Shoot the Moon.

I'm in a fog today and it has nothing to do with the wine last night. I took Tenant out last night and I think I may have been a little over confident in Standard Date No. 2. I have a sunken feeling in my chest. Pressure like I am waiting for bad news. There is also a tinge of regret, or remorse.

The evening started off well enough. We went out on the bike and cruised around the city. After an hour the weather turned and it started to sprinkle so we headed back to my place and cooked dinner. Tenant helped with the cooking, we drank some wine, conversation was good. Everything seemed to be going fine. It stopped raining so we ate outside and moved on to a second bottle of wine. After dinner we cleaned up and Tenant said she had her bathing suit, so we changed and went into the hot tub.

Tenant looked fantastic. Her body was even better than I had imagined. It helped that she had a great bikini. It was one of those skimpy little ones that has a very narrow "V" in the back and only covers about a third of each cheek. She's a solid 7 maybe even an 8.

We swirled around in the tub for about thirty minutes then started kissing. After a while I took her top off and flung it over my shoulder, but on its way over the side of the tub it caught a wine glass which fell to the ground and shattered into a million pieces.

This is pretty much the point at which the evening took a turn.

We were making out and Tenant kind of sat back and put both her hands underwater near her hips. I thought she was taking off her bikini bottom. After a second she scooted back over to me and we continued kissing. I reached down and put my hands on her hips and felt that her bottoms were still on. I was confused since I thought she had already taken them off. I didn't know if she had second thoughts, or trouble getting them off in the water, or what, so I hooked my index fingers around them and gave a little exploratory tug down. Tenant stopped kissing me and leaned back, a clear sign that she was not interested in taking those off, which was fine.

I thought it was best to relax for a bit and sat back in a seat. We were talking then Tenant bum-rushed me. She swam across the tub, mounted me, grabbed my head and bit my lip. We started going at it again and she was being much more aggressive. We tumbled around and eventually I propped her up on the side of the tub and kissed her chest. I slowly made my way down her stomach, then kissed her on the inside of her thighs. She spread her legs and I pulled her suit to the side and went down on her. A couple of minutes later she stopped me and slid back into the tub. She wanted to slow down again.

After we stopped Tenant said she had to go to the bathroom. We had been in the tub for around an hour and my fingers were pruning up nicely, so I said "Have you had enough of the tub, should we go in?" She said "Sure", so I got out and handed her a towel. Tenant went to the bathroom and I closed up the tub. The AC was on inside so it was kind of cold. When Tenant came out of the bathroom I said "Are you cold, want to jump in the shower?" She said no and toweled herself off. And just like that the night was over. She changed back into her jeans, I walked her out to her car, kissed her good night, then flopped onto the couch with a beer.

I can't shake the feeling that I came on a little strong last night and hope I didn't make Tenant feel uncomfortable. The whole night was too scripted and she picked up on that. I think I was also pretty cocky. If you asked me yesterday what I thought my chances were of getting lucky I would have said 99%. The other 1% was simply modesty.

It's now 11:20 and I haven't heard from Tenant since she left last night. I would feel much better if I got some sort of text, whether it be a "thank you" or "had a good time last night", anything would do at this point. I feel like I fucked up, like I tried to shoot the moon too early.