Sexcapades: Compatible signs don’t mean shit

During my hoe era, I invited a guy over to my place I met on Tinder. He was much taller than expected, and when he gave me an awkward hug, it was like hugging a tree. In my room, he pulled two room temperature beers out of his pockets and offered me one. I declined, and he drank both himself within the next twenty minutes. 

The conversation otherwise was going okay until he asked if I believed in astrology. I said, "nah, not really,” and then immediately noticed that his forearm was covered in astrology and zodiac tattoos. His face changed, and my voice dropped in my throat. I felt rude (because clearly this had some serious importance to him), so I managed to quickly add on, "but I think it's kinda cool though... I know my sign." 

Sooo awkward. We managed to turn the conversation back around, and he expressed relief that I thought it was cool before saying a whole monologue about astrology and the stars. But honestly, I thought sex was off the table due to all the previous awkwardness and how late it was getting.  

But then as we were watching a movie on my laptop in bed together, he started feeling me up. Unfortunately, the sex was no less awkward than our previous interactions. He was too large to fit inside me without pain (like the size of a drink bottle! which in its own way was amazing). His back also got so incredibly sweaty. It was like a lake sitting on top of him. When I put my hands on his back, there was a splash. 

At the very least, I got off, although he didn't. He spent the night for some reason, as I didn't know how to ask him to leave, and I felt bad that I wasn't up to making him cum -- I think I would've choked just having that in my mouth.  

He left in the morning, and I found that instead of throwing the condom in the bin, he just threw it on MY FLOOR. 

He wanted to see me again, saying, "We could keep exploring each other's bodies". Ugh. I turned him down and never saw him again.