Leprechaun vs. Ginger

***GUEST POST***

Bringing you an important post by Lady Kay, which prompted this Dater to ponder 1) where the line between ginger and leprechaun lies, precisely, and 2) when does it become a good idea to forget all yer mama told ya and tell a guy to just get the eff out.

This is about the time I fucked a Leprechaun.

I have to preface this story by saying that I missed being slutty when I was young. I was more of a prude. I had a longish-term relationship followed by marriage, followed by a very long-term relationship. So my number is still really low at my ripe old age of... oh, never mind.

I met him online. We emailed a few times and then talked on the phone one night. It was late, I invited him over. In his profile picture he looked like a leprechaun, albeit a 6' leprechaun. I hoped he would look less leprechauny in person. He didn't. Damn.

We talked for a while, I drank some. Drank some more. He was nice enough and I was drunk enough so I asked him to stay. Things started. He started moaning. Ew. He asked to turn the light on so he could see, not me, but his dick. Maybe leprechaun dicks disappear in the dark? I don't know. He moaned some more. Too much. I did not come. And I couldn't sleep.

In the morning he asked if I was wet. Wtf? I just woke up!! He asked if I like "morning lovin' ". Um, not when you put it like that. And generally not with strangers. When he was done he asked if I came. No. No, I didn't. He muttered "sorry" and went to the bathroom. Wow. Thanks.

He stayed too long. He's very much into astrology and talked about charts and suns and moons. I was hungover and just wanted to go back to sleep and recover and forget the whole experience. I needed to forget that I fucked a leprechaun. A ginger. My mother would roll over in her grave, only she's not dead. So she'd puke if I ever told her. Which I never, ever would.

I think being slutty is best left to the young. The young and stupid.
It was a valiant effort, anyway.