Chapter Twelve #2
Despite the awkward start, the rest of the morning went well, and for the first time I received a few interesting emails from the press requesting more information about Alexander Cambi coming to Scotland.
But I couldn’t get back to them until I’d secured a venue.
I had no new leads, and I still hadn’t heard back from Philip Khan.
It was looking more and more likely that I’d be packing a shitty bowling club in Possil full of my friends and family posing as art collectors.
Before I finished up for lunch and my first date of the day, Zola showed me a picture of Ian.
He looked in his mid-forties, tall with salt-and-pepper hair and a nicely trimmed beard.
He was certainly attractive in his photographs, but I wondered why a successful man in his forties had yet to settle down.
Or maybe this was his second rodeo after a divorce?
Then again, I was about to find out. I wasn’t sure whether it was his suggestion or Zola’s to meet at The Social, but it did seem a little bit of a younger vibe for a well-to-do businessman.
However, I liked it, and with its excellent city centre location and fruity cocktails, I was looking forward to getting the questionnaire filled out and reporting back to the Dicktionary Club.
As I entered the bar, I was approached by a server, who smiled at me.
‘Let me guess, Bella?’ she said, arching a gorgeously sculpted brow.
I had almost forgotten my profile’s fake name till she reminded me, and I nodded back gratefully.
‘There is a man waiting for you in the second booth to the left. Would you like a menu?’
‘No thanks, it’s just a quick drink,’ I replied, walking towards the table.
I suddenly felt nervous. With everything happening in the office, I hadn’t had much time to overthink and feel apprehensive about another date, but now my stomach twisted.
‘Bella!’ Ian said, standing up to greet me. OK, nice, I thought. Ian was dressed in a crew-neck jumper and jeans, looking smart but casual. He did look older but was in good shape, with a perfect smile.
‘Hey, Ian. Nice to meet you,’ I replied, sticking my hand out for a more formal welcome.
‘Please, take a seat. What would you like to drink?’ He had an accent, definitely from the East Coast, Edinburgh most likely.
I suddenly wondered how much Zola had told him about me and if it would be evident that I was repeating myself by asking questions she could’ve already covered through the Tinder messages. Damn , I should’ve at least glanced at them. Rookie error.
‘You look like you need a cocktail.’ He smiled, suavely. ‘Shall I order for you? See how well I know you?’ he added.
I already felt slightly overwhelmed by his over-familiarity. ‘Erm .?.?. No, thank you. A Cosmo would be great, though. I can’t stay long, you see. I have to get back to the office.’
‘Spoilsport.’ He flashed his teeth at me jokingly. Yeah, they were too perfect, I thought, definitely Turkey specials. Then Ian flagged down a waiter. ‘Excuse me, could we order some drinks?’
The waiter took out his pad. ‘Sure, what can I get you?’
‘Cosmopolitan for the lovely lady and a vodka martini for me,’ he replied.
‘Shaken not stirred?’ I joked, and he arched his brow.
‘Precisely!’
‘So,’ I began. ‘Let’s get straight to it, eh? What are you looking for when it comes to dating?’
Ian smiled once again, this time looking taken aback. ‘For a good-looking lady at my side, I guess. To do fun things with, get up to a little mischief along the way, you know how it is.’ He leaned back casually.
God, not another shagaholic!
‘And what about yourself?’
‘I suppose to meet a best friend,’ I replied, knowing that was exactly the kind of sentimental shit most women would say. Well, what Katy would say, anyway.
He darted his head upwards, only just acknowledging my cute statement. I wondered if he was expecting a sexier reply.
‘And would you say you have anything I need to know about?’ I asked him. ‘You know, like, red flags?’
Our drinks arrived, but as the waiter placed them down, Ian whispered, ‘I’ll have another, mate.’
Wow, was I that bad? I thought. It’s early afternoon!
He turned back to me. ‘ Hmmm .?.?. sorry, red flags. Very woke! What age are you again?’ He burst out laughing. ‘I’m sorry, Bella, couldn’t resist.’
I screwed my face into a smile.
‘I suppose some women’s red flags will be others’ green flags,’ Ian admitted, gulping his martini more quickly than was perhaps wise. ‘This feels like a job interview, by the way. You seem different in person.’
I blushed. Yep, because you were chatting with my best friend, Ian.
‘I’m sorry. I just don’t like beating around the bush. We’re both adults,’ I said. ‘And my job is pretty intense; I’m sure yours is too. So, I like to be clear I’m not wasting my time from the beginning, you know?’
‘Yes, of course. I like it. It’s very refreshing for a woman to be so direct,’ he said, and a strange fleeting sense of happiness seemed to radiate from him. ‘Tell me about you, Bella. When was your last date?’
‘ Me .?.?. OK.’ I sipped at my Cosmopolitan, taking a breath. ‘I had a date a few days ago, but it didn’t go to plan.’
‘Ohh.’ Ian leaned forward onto the table, crossing over his arms. ‘Tell me more! What happened?’
I sighed, not knowing how vague to keep it. ‘Well .?.?. The guy was being pretty .?.?. sexual, and it was all too much for me. Especially on a first date.’
Ian sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ He seemed lost in thought for a few seconds. ‘But, what made him overly sexual? If you don’t mind me asking.’
I thought back to my previous date and the continuous comments about my arse and meeting up at his place.
‘I suppose he just hinted about sex a lot and commented on my body too.’ I took another sip of my drink, then continued.
‘I didn’t feel comfortable because I hardly knew him, that sort of thing. ’
‘Yes, that’s understandable, to a certain degree.’ Ian downed the rest of his martini, just as the next one arrived. I had barely touched mine.
‘To a certain degree?’ I questioned his wording.
‘Well, I suppose it’s good to know how sexual someone is at the initial stages, isn’t it?’
I didn’t know what to respond. I tilted my head slightly, waiting on an explanation.
‘Everyone has different sexual expectations, Bella. People are into various things nowadays. They have different views or preferences, fantasies or arousals. It makes sense to know what each person is into from the get-go, yes? Well, I think so anyway. As you said before, you like to be direct and speaking about these things ensures you aren’t wasting any time. ’
‘I guess romance isn’t dead, eh?’ I lifted my drink, trying to comprehend his point. But surely dating isn’t all about sex?
Ian laughed. ‘Do you disagree? I wouldn’t normally talk so openly about this on the first date, by the way.’
I nodded, still trying to understand if I was the one who’d instigated this entire topic of sex. Or if we were merely participating in a healthy debate.
‘OK, Bella, here it is. I personally have an extremely high sex drive, and when I say high, I mean off the freaking charts.’ He sat back proudly, took another hefty sip of his martini. ‘For instance, on a normal day, I ejaculate around seven times.’
Suddenly, my Cosmo went down the wrong way, and I began coughing uncontrollably, the alcohol burning my nostrils and throat.
But Ian continued, unfazed. ‘I just couldn’t settle down with someone who was, you know, vanilla in the bedroom. I need a partner to satisfy my sex drive. I’d expect a fulfilling relationship to be sex on tap, if that makes sense.’
And I’d expect your partner to need a new fanny by the second week of knowing you, Ian , I thought. I was still flabbergasted. Completely speechless, bar the odd cough which was luckily subsiding. God, I hadn’t had sex in three years, and this cunt came seven times a day.
Eventually, I managed to speak. ‘Wow.’
He smirked, looking pleased with himself as if he had impressed me with his ejaculation prowess.
‘Can I ask why you .?.?. do it so often?’ To be honest, I was wondering if that amount of chugging would be classed as an addiction.
Ian’s eyes darted briefly to the ceiling as he pondered the question. ‘I like to think that it’s ultimately the key to success! Have you heard of post-nut clarity?’
‘Huh?’
‘Post-nut clarity! If you have a problem you can’t solve, I can promise you, it will be a much easier fix after an orgasm.
’ He raised his brows suggestively and I wondered if a cum alarm clock was about to go off to indicate it was time for him to excuse himself for a wank break. ‘What do you like in the sack, Bella?’
‘I’m sorry?’ I replied, snapping out of my astonishment.
‘You heard.’ Ian winked. ‘Be open with me. Come on, miss, straight to the point! What turns you on in the bedroom? What’s your kink, your favourite position, what does it for you?’
I was suddenly very aware I was sitting in The Social in the middle of the afternoon getting grilled about my sex life by a complete stranger.
‘I er .?.?. I don’t know,’ I stuttered, feeling my neck turn red and blotchy with nerves.
‘C’mon, everyone knows what position hits the spot.’ Ian’s hips gyrated, causing the table to tilt off balance, and I steadied my glass from toppling at his alarmingly vigorous hip thrust. I started to wonder how many martinis he’d downed before the date.
‘I honestly don’t know. I’ve never thought about it,’ I replied, not even remembering the last time my spot was hit.
‘Me, for instance. I’m into,’ he came closer and whispered, ‘Shibari ropes.’ There was a glint in his eyes, like he was excited to be speaking so openly about his kink in public in the middle of the day.
‘Do you know what that is?’ He swigged his drink confidently, looking at me like I was a young virgin and he was the Jedi of the Kama Sutra.
‘Well, no. Not particularly. But I could make a pretty good guess from the rope part,’ I said, unimpressed.
‘I was introduced to the practice when I was around your age in fact, and I’ve never looked back. You should look it up; it’s a lot of fun.’ He raised an eyebrow suggestively.
Aye, I bet it is for you , ya twisted cunt.
‘Well, I honestly don’t think I’d be into that, Ian. And frankly, this conversation is all a bit much for me. I don’t like speaking about things like this on a first date.’
Ian raised one shoulder casually, then signalled to the waiter for another drink.
‘Another one?’ I laughed, making sure he knew I was judging him at this point.
‘I need it, trust me.’ A droning sigh filled the space between us. ‘You know, I had high hopes for you, Bella. But you’re pretty uptight, aren’t you? Come on, babe, loosen up.’ Ian shimmied his shoulders as if he was doing the twist at the table.
My jaw dropped. Was this man serious?! ‘Uptight?’ I repeated.
‘Look, I hope I don’t come across as rude but .?.?.’
You hope! God, my blood was boiling. Aye, if I wanted to spend my afternoon listening to an arsehole, I’d have just farted. I had to get away from this man and his kinky fucking ropes .
‘No, not rude, Ian,’ I interrupted, ‘but this chat simply proves we want different things.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll say! We certainly do.’ He giggled, clearly more than tipsy. ‘Another drink, though? One for the road?’
‘You know, Ian, I’d better not.’ I held his gaze now. ‘I don’t want to take up too much of your day. After all, I know you’ve got those seven wanks to get ticked off,’ I replied sternly, opening my purse and placing a tenner on the table. ‘That’s for my Cosmo.’ I stood up out of the booth.
To my surprise, Ian laughed not unpleasantly, semi-agreeing with me. ‘Great to meet you, Bella. And hey, good luck finding someone a little less adventurous. I truly believe there is someone out there for all of us – we just have to find them!’
I attempted a smile, struggling to hide how insulted I was at his condescending tone.
At least I knew from one quick date the real reason this forty-something man had never settled: because the only fanny that could take the amount of pounding that he expected in a fulfilling relationship was a blow-up doll.
‘See you, Ian,’ I said.
And I left The Social, strolling back to the office with my Google search now full of Shibari.