Engendered Intercourse

Story Sent in by Lillian:

At our first date dinner, Paul was very excited to tell me something. "I had a vision," he began, "Of us."

"A vision?" I asked, hoping for a punchline.

He said, "Yep. This morning, after I woke up and shaved, I pulled on my pants and it suddenly hit me. It involved dinner, then a bedroom."

I choked on my ziti and said, "A bedroom?"

He replied, "Oh, you thought I meant bedroom sex? Ha! No, I pictured the two of us painting a bedroom."

"Okay..."

He cleared his throat. "And then, you know, having sex."

I sighed. Another online dud. He was quick to catch my disappointment and jumped right in with, "Oh, you though I meant intercourse sex? No, no. I meant discourse sex, as in a discourse, a talk, about gender. As in, we paint the bedroom, then talk about gender... issues."

"All right, Paul. I don't–"

"Then you suck me off."

I stood up. He laughed and said, "You don't get it! I said that if you suck, then me go off! You know, if you suck then I'll go, you know, somewhere else!"

I left him there, with the food and with the check. I had hardly eaten, in all honesty, but I wasn't going to sit there and be disrespected by some bonehead with no common sense or decency.