The Magic Blue Sex Couch!

Hey Hey Lovers!

Welcome back! Now after the last anecdote I gifted you with I think it’s best we get straight to what happened next with Callum, shall we? I thought you’d agree, we’re so in sync!

Alrightey, here we go…

After I had attained that all important number, I waited one day, and then I waited two. That’s the rule right? Three days? One day is too keen, two days is too calculated but three hits the spot just right.

So on the third day I sent a cheeky little hello message and to my delight received one back in return! We text flirted for half an hour or so before deciding to meet up for a coffee. I was a little concerned as the only time I could meet up was after work. You see when one works next to three ovens all day ones pits can get a little pongy. But I wouldn’t let that deter me and concocted a well-laid plan involving a change of clothes, three cans of deodorant and a commercial sized sink.

The moment finally came, and as I smoothed my hair down for the last time and unsuccessfully tried to remove the last remnants of butter from my person, I got the feeling that this could be the beginning of something special.

The coffee shop was busy, filled with bohemian types sipping on chai lattes and green teas, weaving dream catchers with their toes. Ok maybe not that intense, but safe to say it wasn’t exactly my type of place, which made me wonder why I had chosen it.

I walked through the throng, inhaling a deep breath of incense as I did, half choking me and yet also strangely soothing me at the same time. I would later find out that that certain type of incense was also the main ingredient of the establishment’s brownies.

Finally I caught sight of him. He hadn’t seen me yet so I took a moment to assess him, soberly this time.

He was still definitely attractive, that was for sure. He had an oval face with very open features, the type of face that struggles to tell a lie. He looked young and for a moment I thought I was in jail-bait territory. Then I remembered he worked at a bar. Breathing a sigh of relief , I continued my perusal and was a little disappointed that his body did not quite live up to my drunken memories. He was what you would call… cuddly I suppose. He certainly wasn’t fat, but he wasn’t going to be running triathlons any time soon either.

As if he heard my judgmental voice through the crowd, his head swiveled in my direction and we locked eyes. I realise that just sounded like a very Exorcist moment, but it was a normal one eighty head swivel, not the whole three sixty, I promise. Still on track to be a good date.

He only glanced at me for a moment though, as there was a stunning blonde waitress with an unfortunate surplus of breast behind me who unsuprisingly drew focus from me in my jeans and slightly butter smeared t-shirt.

Un-deterred, I sauntered over to the table he had commandeered and said hello. I sat down quickly before he could give me the once over as I really didn’t want him to see the cocoa stain on my jeans. Honestly you don’t do washing for just one week and it comes back to bite you.

I must say he didn’t look overly impressed with me. I fidgeted awkwardly as he asked me what I’d like to drink. Normally I’m a coffee with a hazelnut shot gal but I figured I’d try and butch it up a little so I ordered a hot chocolate instead.

Callum rose and went to order, giving me another opportunity to sneakily survey him. Was he as devastatingly gorgeous as I remembered? No, sadly not. But was he cute enough to get to know a little better and go from there? That was a definite yes.

He returned a moment later with our drinks and we dived headfirst into small talk territory. He wasn’t a big talker, but luckily I was a questioning master. I found out that he had quite an odd family situation, with half brothers and sisters all over the joint. He worked two jobs, one at the bar and the other as a clerk at his local service station. He lived alone, a fact I was very impressed with, and could already see us having sex on his kitchen table with no worries about being interrupted.

I nodded along, absorbing everything he said, asking questions where appropriate and staying silent when he was attempting to elaborate. The conversation was flowing well, but that was only because we were talking entirely about him. I kept waiting for him to ask about my family, or my job, or even just mention the sad state of my pants; but he seemed oblivious to all of that and was content to natter on about himself.

I’d just finished my drink when he asked if I wanted to go for a walk. For a moment I was confused as to whether the walk would include him or if he was just politely telling me to leave, but as he was standing when saying it, I went with my gut instinct and assumed he would be accompanying me.

Callum led the way through the masses and again I was assaulted by that thick stench of ‘incense.’ With a sudden pang I was transported back to Rick’s backyard, him smoking a bong with all his mates, laughing idiotically at the dog as it tried to eat its own foot.

I shook my head violently, trying to get his image out of my head. I wouldn’t let him run my love life, he was no longer a part of it and never would be again. I pushed my shoulders back, stuck my chin in the air, and in a sudden act of boldness, grabbed Callum’s hand as he passed through the crowd.

We reached the door together, where he swiftly dropped his hand from my grasp and transferred it to his phone.

I humphed in annoyance but luckily Callum was so caught up in a text message he didn’t notice.

“ So where did you want to walk?” I asked, trying to distract him from his phone fascination. He put it back in his pocket (finally) and just shrugged at me.

I pursed my lips at him, but didn’t say anything, just started walking in the direction of the park down the road. If there was one thing that could break up an awkward date, it was a round on the swings.

As punishment for his phone faux-pau, I made him take the little kids swing, and took much delight in seeing him attempt to squish his ass into the tiny seat.

My joy was short-lived however, as his next comment was not one that I had expected.

“ I think I should tell you something.” He said, swinging lopsidedly next to me, one ass cheek hanging out of the seat.

I gulped down a breath of calming air, trying to give myself time to think of all the horrifying directions this conversation could go in. “I love you?” No, too soon. “I’m gay?” No, he didn’t dress well enough. “I have an abnormally large penis?” No, I’m not that lucky.

What I didn’t expect him to say was “ You looked better at the club.”


“Excuse me?” I asked, praying I’d misheard him.

“Yeah you know you had your hair down, and it was dark and you were wearing that short skirt and all. You just looked better. Thought you might want to know.”

A long list of expletives ran their way through my head, but the only thing managed to make it out of my mouth was a soft “Oh. Right then.”

Callum nodded and kept on swinging in his tiny seat. A part of me wanted him to slip and have the chain smash into his balls but I tried to quell that feeling. Maybe he had a reason for being an asshole. Maybe he’d had a bad day or something? I was certainly having one, that’s for sure.

We swung in awkward silence for a few moments longer before he finally broke it with “You know I have an awesome couch at my apartment.”

I did a double take, getting my hair caught in the stupid chain as I did. When I’d finally (and not a little painfully) untangled myself, I goggled at him, dumbfounded.

“Your couch?” I asked

“Yeah,” he said, warming to his topic “It’s a blue futon and it’s so comfy. You lie down on that thing and you’re asleep in minutes. It’s so fantastic.”

Great, I was competing with a couch for a boys affection.

“That’s… Brilliant. I guess” I had no idea where to go from here. He had just said I didn’t look as pretty as he thought, and then he had followed that up with couch trivia? What the hell was happening? Just as I was pondering how to destroy his beloved couch Callum awkwardly vaulted out of his swing and held his hand out to me.

“Want to go for another walk?” he asked

No, not really, I thought. I want to go home and call every one of my mates and get their advice while I stuff my face with Tim Tams.

I couldn’t hurt his feelings though, that would just be mean. So I taped a smile onto my face and said “Sure.”

We walked for about twenty minutes, talking about nothing in particular. Finally I decided enough was enough and told him I had to pick up a ‘friend’ from the airport.

He nodded and I thought that was that. We would part ways and I would never ever visit his particular nightclub again.

That was until we got to my car and he suddenly said “Hey, do you want to come and see my couch?”

My head was screaming Noooooo! Don’t do it you fool! But my cat-like senses that were always full of curiosity won over and I found myself nodding.

“Where’s your car?” I asked, thinking he could lead the way.

“I left it at home and took the train.”

Hmm, so he may just be wanting a lift home then. Sneaky bastard.

Still, I had made the commitment and now I was super involved couch-wise. After all this talking I really wanted to see my competition.

We drove in relative silence, Callum breaking it occasionally with conversational tid-bits like “Turn left here” and “It’s right at the traffic lights.”


Finally we arrived at his house, a block of apartments not too far from where we had had coffee. Callum instructed me where to park and we headed inside.

The flat was nothing special, just your usual two bedroom one bathroom. He led me out onto the balcony to see the city skyline and the sunset.

Obviously he was doing this to get a kiss in, I thought smugly. What else could he be taking me out there for?

Yeah, turns out it was just for the view.

Strangely enough, when we went back into the apartment I was slightly disappointed. But why? This guy clearly wasn’t for me. He had insulted me, shown more interest in inanimate objects and bummed a lift home, so why was I wanting a snog?

Again it was partly curiosity. If Mr Bartender here thought he was such hot stuff, he must have a good technique to back himself up.

I looked over at him just as he seated himself on his beloved couch and patted the seat next to him.

I walked over, feeling tense. I sank down onto the couch close to him. Quite close. Not just friends close. Maybe friends with benefits close but not platonic friends. Although in most cases of platonic friends one is secretly in love with the other, so I suppose you could say I was playing the secretive friend in my closeness of sitting. Ok lets just say I sat super close.

Sweet lord! My god it was comfy! All my tension melted away as the delicately stitched cushions enveloped my shoulders, back and butt cheeks. I leant my head back and sighed happily, as if making the decision to come back and see this goddess of couches was the one thing my life had been leading towards all this time.

“Like it?” Callum asked

“It’s awesome!” I cried and to my surprise he leant over and gave me a hug. I jumped a little and he pulled back, but I recovered from my shock and leant into him.

It was great, two people celebrating the pure genius of one couch.

Again, this would have been the perfect time for a cheeky kiss, but it wasn’t to be. After I had waited what seemed like an age and waited to see if he would make a move, I pulled back and said my goodbyes.

Callum offered to walk me out to my car and I accepted. We reached the car, and I stood leaning against the door, bracing for the goodbye kiss…. Nothing! What on Earth was he playing at? Was he trying to tell me that he had literally brought me back to his apartment just to see his couch?!

Apparently so.

After giving me a measly little arm squeeze, he turned on his heel and trotted back down the driveway, leaving me to sit in my car feeling utterly perplexed.

Why didn’t he kiss me? Why did he even bother bringing me to his house if he wasn’t keen? And most importantly, where the hell could I buy one of those couches?

I know what you’re thinking here Lovers, “Get rid of him! Steal his couch and never see the loser again!” Which is exactly what I should of done, but because I drove a very small car that barely fit a bar fridge let alone a couch and because I was so curious and desperate to get over my ex boyfriend, I persevered.

So what happened next? It’s beautiful in both its juiciness and cringe-worthy aspects, I promise!



Pick up line of the week: You can’t be my first, but you can be my next.


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