Dating girls with foot fetish
I’d sensibly lined my stomach with brown rice pasta before coming out, but he was starving, and ordered three dishes.He insisted I shared everything – an offer I can never refuse.We made our way to The Wayland – an excellent, atmospheric East Village bar.We bagged perfect seats at the open windows, overlooking the warm and breezy street.The more he drank, the more he leaned into my space.
He says: "Oh super cute, great toe nail choice, I'd suck those things right now." Thankfully for their fellow diners, it doesn't look like they get down and dirty with her digits in the middle of the restaurant.
At one point I was looking away and he sneakily lent forward to kiss the top of my arm. He reminded me of my childhood boxer dog, who had to have constant physical contact with you (which meant she often sat on your foot).
By now he was obviously tipsy, and compliments were coming thicker and faster. It was an authenticity issue; how could somebody possibly know that these things were true about me from one date? The joke he made about how many kids we were going to have didn’t help the situation.
At roughly 20 second intervals he would brush my forearm.
Once you register something like that, it’s hard to un-notice it.