Chris rides up to the curb of the restaurant wearing a black leather jacket. He takes his helmet off and shakes out shaggy black hair, revealing a gorgeous face and a mischievous smile which makes me feel excited and like I’m doing something bad the same time. “I’m Chris,” he says. “It’s unusual to see someone so beautiful.”

After we sit down in a booth I say, “So, uh, my friend dared me to ask a date this question. It’s a little weird though.”

“Shoot,” he says. “I like weird.”

“Well, it’s a sexual question, I’m afraid.”

“All the better, my dear.” He leans in closer, his breath mingling with mine and his smile widens.

“Um, how about after the meal?”

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“What kind of meal?” he asks, putting his hand on my bare thigh, touching me for the first time.

I feel exhilarated, surprised, and and embarrassed all at once. I turn bright red. “Uh, the uh, pasta.”

He takes his hand away.

Our entrées arrive and I’m grateful for the distraction and the excuse not to talk.

While we’re eating he keeps giving me these looks like he’d be eating me. I am now officially creeped out and just want this over with so I blurt out, “how big is your penis?”

He immediately responds, “feel free to come over to my place after dinner and find out.” He smiles deviously like he was just waiting to say that.

Even though I feel a little creeped out by this guy, I feel so relieved that I got that over with and can leave now. I’m about to make an excuse to leave when he says, “I’m sorry if anything I said or did tonight make you uncomfortable. We can start over if you’d like. I won’t say anything else sexual for the rest of the night.” “Or at least I’ll try,” he adds.

He manages to not say anything else sexual for the rest of the night, and kisses my hand before we part ways. He gives me his number in case I want another date with him, but I feel hesitant considering that he seems overly sexual in a way that creeps me out a little.