Ollie made me light up like Blackpool illuminations.
I was 21, at university, and hadn’t had the best history with guys. I’d been out on dates but never really found that chemistry where I wanted to take it further.
Ollie was different. He was on the same course as me reading politics and I had flirted with him for weeks. We had gone for drinks together in groups but we always found ourselves sitting near each other and bursting into laughter.
My heart skipped a beat when he pulled me to one side after a night out and asked if I fancied going for a drink together.
‘What now?’, I replied.
‘No, I want to do this properly’, he laughed back.
I floated and smiled all the way home in my boozy haze.
A few nights later it was time for our date – I had tried every outfit I owned on to see what looked right, even though I saw him most days in lectures. I think I settled on some horrendous electric blue boots and what I thought was a very cool, edgy dress with a bold red face painted on it. If only my outfit was the worst bit of the date.
We met at the student union and it couldn’t have gone better. We were laughing together and bonding over snake bites and politics.
We didn’t want the night to end so wound up at Fruity, Friday’s cheesy dance night at the union.
We kept away from everyone else and just spent time together having our first kiss on the dance floor. I remember having butterflies and feeling like I might burst with happiness.
We left together and walked home holding hands and got some chips on the way. It felt natural to go back to his house – I had known him for ages. Oh how I wish I had waited.
We had a drink with his housemates who all wanted to peer at me before we went into his room with red, freshly laundered, bedsheets. He actually knew how to work a washing machine! Another tick in my mind. This was going so well.
There I was, still attached to his penis, feeling very vulnerable and absolutely mortified
Then the unthinkable happened – I still cringe and turn crimson when I think about it.
I’m just going to come out with it: We had started being very intimate when his penis got stuck in my dental brace.
My stupid glistening brand new braces my parents had bought me for my 21st birthday. He let out a blood curdling scream and his housemate raced in to see what had happened.
There I was, still attached to his penis, feeling very vulnerable and absolutely mortified.
His housemate phoned a friend doing medicine to ask what he should do – it was even worse listening to them on the phone discussing it.
Though it was better than the option I had thought of, which was to phone my mum who was a nurse.
I was petrified I had broken it for life – I wanted the ground to actually swallow me up. Instead his housemate, as gently as he could, detached his penis from my brace. The shame. It felt like there was blood spurting out everywhere all over the red sheets.
I remember offering to go to A&E with him and he looked at me in horror. Instead Ollie went with his housemate. I probably should have left then but in my drunken state I fell asleep and had to sneak out the next morning before they were back.
When I woke up after making it back into my own bed, the post-alcohol guilt started to come through. The flashbacks of what had happened.
I looked down to see the time and realised I had left my beloved Storm watch behind. It was so special to me – I had saved up for it when I was young and it meant enough to me that I couldn’t just dismiss its loss as collateral damage from the night before.
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I had to work up the courage to call him to see how he was and to ask if I could pick up my watch. It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t answer. So I tried a text. My housemates were in fits of hysterics.
I was met with a chorus of ‘there is no way he is going to meet you to give you the watch back’.
Well he did. I remember driving there with my stomach in knots. He was outside his place and handed it back to me.
I asked if he fancied doing something again. He looked at me like I was a mass murderer and said no.
After that, we never spoke again. I would see him around university and felt shame in the pit of my stomach every time I did.
I couldn’t stop myself, but I would also get the giggles – which really didn’t help mend our relationship.
So, How Did It Go?
So, How Did It Go? is a weekly Metro.co.uk series that will make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as people share their worst and best date stories.
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