Blind Expectations
I was a little apprehensive about this bar. Five months earlier I had my encounter with a woman here who thought having a knock-down, drag-out fight with her mother on the phone was the perfect way to begin a first date.
The other minor wrinkle with this evening was my bracing for the most dreaded of dating scenarios – the blind date. All kinds of horrific scenarios were going through my mind – everything from zero chemistry/awkward silence to her mickying my drink and waking up in an ice-filled shady motel bathroom without my kidneys.
The trick with blind dates is if your friend, coworker or family member is setting it up, it means they think they’re doing one of you a favor because they’re tired of seeing you single – and you wonder if you’re the one they think is in need of that favor. The one advantage to online dating is you can vet potential dates for yourself before deciding to commit an evening to being-on-your-best-behavior with someone new. A blind date means anything is possible…for better or for worse.

I try not to be a defeatist with dating, but while I hope for the best, I try to steel myself for the worst, as well.
So, there I was, sitting at the bar, nursing a straight bourbon and checking my cell phone periodically to make sure I wasn’t missing any I-need-to-cancel-at-the-last-minute text messages. I did get a text from my friend who set up this blind date, asking if we met up yet. The date was running a little late, and I hadn’t heard any more from her in the past ten minutes. I wasn’t in any huge hurry and experience has taught me to be a little flexible with the anything-can-happen environment of the DC area. It was early Spring, so I was challenging myself with trying to be interested in the obscure sports ESPN coverage of the bar’s TV. Finally, my cell phone buzzed – she was here.
My friend Jo (not her real name) had given me a fairly average description of my date. Apparently, she didn’t have any distinguishing tattoos, scars or unique features to boast (or warn) about. I had no idea what to expect except that one of her earlier texts said she was wearing jeans and a white top. Trying to balance myself between the fight or flight mode anxiety and warm thrill of meeting someone knew, I caught myself tapping my phone on the bar and little too loudly. Out of the corner of my I saw the door open.
Sandy (not her real name) was the very definition of the girl-next-door beautiful. She was somewhere in her late thirties or on the verge of pushing forty in all the right ways (and making her a somewhat older than me), blonde without the garish highlights so many in suburbia love, and a figure that said she had a kid (I already knew this), but worked hard to keep her figure. Her jeans clung to just the right curves along her hips and thighs, and her white wrap-around top showed off nicely shaped breasts with just a hint of cleavage to get a stir in my crotch. The look on her face was a blend of its-been-a-long-fucking-week and it-feels-good-to-be-out. I straightened up, smoothed out my clothes and put on my best smile. As she made eye contact, I braced myself for whatever her reaction might be – while I think I’m somewhere above average on the cute scale, I never conceited myself with being God’s gift to women, either. Nevertheless, Sandy’s expression was one of pleasant surprise and I took that as a good sign.
“I’m so sorry,” Sandy said as she sat down next to me, “My ex was late showing up to pick up our daughter.”
“No problem,” I said, “Looks like you need a drink – what’s your poison?”
Sandy looked at the bartender without missing a beat, “Gin and tonic.”
Once we both had drinks in hand, Sandy seemed to settle down a bit.
“Do you have any kids?” she asked.
“None that I’m aware of.”
She let out a genuine laugh. “They’re wonderful, but a whole other level when you’re divorced.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I’ve never been married.”
Sandy took a swig of her drink, “Don’t! I was married for ten years and you wouldn’t believe the stuff married people put themselves through.”
I shook my head. “It was that bad?”
Sandy smiled, “There were some great moments – his support while I finished school, being there when I was pregnant and taking care of a baby, but we’re very different people.”
I finished the last of my drink and signaled for another. “Different directions?”
“In more than one way.” Her back stiffened a little and her smile became nervous. “But the divorce was two years ago – life goes on.”
I sensed a tended subject there, and decided to let that go without follow up.
“So,” I asked, “Have you been dating much?”
Sandy relaxed, the change of subject was a good choice. “Not really. I went back to grad school, so I work during the day and study at night and on weekends. Can’t seem to carve out time for romance while chasing a six year old, too.”
“I can imagine.”
Sandy finished her gin and tonic as the bartender slid another in front of her without needing to ask for it. “Seriously, I almost had to cancel on tonight – I have a project due tomorrow afternoon.”
I perked up at that, “Are you sure about tonight?”
Sandy nodded, “It’s a group thing, so I can’t do any of my part until tomorrow morning.”
“So what convinced you to come out tonight?”
“Jo made a pretty good sales pitch about you. Cute, smart, nice…” Sandy blushed a little, “…a little bit younger than me.”
I smiled at that. “Was it really that?”
Sandy’s blush escalated to red. “I may have told Jo that I’ve been noticing men a few years behind me…” she took another sip of her drink, “…or more than a few years.”
“I see,” I said, “Why the sudden interest in men of a certain age?”
“I like their energy and personalities. My marriage got stale a few years in and my ex and I never completely…connected on a physical level.”
I took a sip of my drink, carefully debating my next question. “Then, you’ve met a few already?”
Sandy smiled wider, took a long drag on her drink. “You’re the first – in person, anyway. I toyed with the dating sites, but didn’t like the attitudes or the immaturity. When I mentioned I wanted to meet someone younger, they thought I just wanted to get laid.”
“Boys will be boys.” I reached for my drink.
“Yeah,” Sandy said, “But truth is, they’re not entirely wrong.”
I almost choked on my drink.
Sandy leaned an elbow on the bar and her head against her hand, “Did Jo say anything about this to you?”
I shook my head, “Jo just said that you seemed to have the same sense of humor and thought we’d pair up nicely. She didn’t say anything else…though now I’m wondering what she meant by that.” I paused for a moment, eyed Sandy carefully. “She said something else about me, didn’t she?”
A warm, gin and tonic-influenced smile grew across her face.
“Okay,” I said smiling, “What was it?”
“She said you were cute, and a great kisser.”
Now I blushed.
“Were you going to tell me you dated Jo?”
I shrugged. “We dated so briefly, I didn’t think it’d be a big deal – I’m surprised she brought it up.”
Sandy was still all smile, “She didn’t really. I got the impression from her description that she knew a little more about you than just as a friend, so I plied her a little.”
I laughed, “Well fuck it, I know girls talk. I’m surprised you still agreed to meet me.”
Sandy started on her next drink. “She didn’t have anything bad to say there. Why didn’t you two go out more?”
“Different directions. She wants to keep traveling the world, seeing everything she can. I want kids someday.”
Sandy nodded. “Yup, that sounds like her. So, you’d date an older woman?”
I nodded, “You’re not THAT much older than me!”
Sandy leaned against her hand a little more, “That’s encouraging to hear.”
I regarded Sandy for a moment. Her body language was more relaxed, so I was starting to think her comment was a hint, but I wasn’t completely sure. Between the alcohol and conversation, I was a little turned on and interested, but knew better than to be direct at this stage.
She looked at her phone.
“Getting late for you?” I asked.
“Sort of,” she replied. “I have to be up tomorrow to work, but I’m not ready to call it a night yet. I could use some fresh air.”
I settled the tab and we stepped outside. There was a little chill in the air so we both put on our jackets. We walked a little to stretch our legs, chatting about past dates and dating disasters. We were finishing our second lap around the strip mall when Sandy leaned in against me and threw my arm around her for warmth.
She was smiling, a lot.
Sandy perked up for a moment. “Is that music?”
I tried listening for a moment. “Yeah, there’s a club just up the street. I think we’re hearing that.”
Sandy seem to hop at the idea, “Let’s go check it out!”
I may have been generous when I called the Iris Lounge a club. It was more of a bar with a decent sized billiards room and a large main area for local bands to perform. This particular night, they had a DJ spinning Kanye West with a crowd of everything from twentysomethings to senior citizens. It was a good night – there was a big crowd, people seemed happy and the music had everyone on the dance floor. I looked at Sandy who was definitely feeling the vibe, even if my introverted self cringed on the inside from the loud music and crowded room.
Sandy grabbed me by the arm and we walked over to the bar. I was distracted seeing two very tall men dressed and made up like the albino twins from The Matrix movies. Suddenly, Sandy spun me around and presented four shot glasses in front of us. We both grabbed one, clinked them and drank – she had a taste for tequila…good tequila.
The DJ switched over to techno and house music, so all I could hear was throbbed electro bass and people screaming at each other in a white noise haze. We finished our shots and got on the dance floor. I’m not much of a dancer, so I did my best to try and keep up a “white man’s hop” with Sandy who was somewhat better at moving her hips. She wasn’t shy about pressing them up against me either. She felt wonderful, warm and whatever perfume she wore was sweet enough to entice and light enough not to overwhelm. Between the music and the drinks, I was feeling a good buzz, and her smile told me she was feeling the same way. The pulsing music slowed a bit, and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
“So,” she yelled next to my ear, “Is it okay if I try something?”
“What’s that?”
Without missing a beat, Sandy drew me closer and kissed me. It was a deep, hungry, primal kiss. The kind that says she wants something bad and isn’t afraid to tell you. She had a strong tongue that didn’t just roll around mine, she explored me with it. Her whole body leaned into mine, her tits pleasantly pushed against my chest. While I first instinct was to pull away a little so she didn’t notice, but she didn’t seem to mind my very hard cock pressing against her through our jeans. In fact, she seemed to press her hips even more against me. We stood there kissing hard, my arms holding her tighter. We stood there long enough for other dancers on the floor to whoop it up or make a passing comment about us. Eventually, Sandy pulled back, still smiling.
She leaned her head back laughing. “Thank fucking God!”
I was a little confused.
Then she leaned forward and made eye contact. “Jo didn’t lie! You’re a great kisser!”
“Thanks!” I yelled back.
“God, what you could do with that for me! Grrr!”
“What?”
“I wish I didn’t have to fucking work tomorrow!”
I think I knew what she meant. We spent the next hour talking a little, kissing a little. As it got closer to last call, we made our way outside and back to where we started the evening. And then over to her car.
“How are you feeling? Do you live far from here?” I asked.
“Not really.” Sandy said, looking more tired than buzzed. “I’ll be okay, what about you?”
I was still feeling the shots a bit, but had a short ride home. “I’m good, I’m good.”
I leaned in and we kissed again. Another deep, down-to-the-depths-of-your-soul reaching kiss that felt as good as the first one.
We parted lips but her eyes were still closed. “Please, tell me you don’t have any plans tomorrow night.”
“I don’t.”
“Good,” she replied, “Because we are definitely going out again.”
The Day After and Round Two
I awoke to a sunny, beautiful Saturday morning.
I slept well, but felt the lingering echo of the shots in the back of my head. I cursed myself a little for not drinking more water last night, but tried to make up for it that morning as I half-heartedly cleaned up the place and went over my errands for the day.
Of course, when I checked my cell phone, it was lit up with multiple text messages from Jo and one or two others who knew I was on a blind date – all asking how it went. I replied with a “I think it went well, we’ll see” replies and opted to not get into how well it seemed to have gone for real.
By lunchtime, I was gearing up for getting groceries and a Target run, but was wondering why I had heard from so many, but not Sandy. I figured she was busy with her schoolwork, but I would’ve felt a little stronger about what to do with my evening if I at least knew she was serious about a second date. I took my time with errands to keep my mind occupied. A few friends texted me asking about going out tonight, but I was being noncommittal just in case.
Finally, as I walked in the door with hands full of grocery store plastic bags, my phone buzzed – Sandy was asking if I was still up for that night. A few text messages later, we negotiated a plan mostly involving meeting at my place and going out. Looking around, I decided I needed to do a bit more cleaning up than I already did and dedicated myself to making the place presentable.
Feeling confident that Sandy’s only take away if she sees the inside of my place is that it was an incredibly clean but still dedicated bachelor pad, I spent the afternoon reading and dealing with some straggler work emails. Soon enough, it was coming up on showtime and I got cleaned up.
Sandy arrived right on time and texted me from downstairs. I went down to meet her and make sure she had my visitor parking pass in her car. She looked even more amazing. She had made herself up even more than the previous night, and took advantage of the day’s warmer weather to show off her wildly enticing curves in a form fitting summer dress that was the perfect hue of pastel yellow. We hugged and though I was aiming for a kiss, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek instead. Not really sure what to make of that, I pushed ahead with taking a walk down the street where a bunch of local restaurants were situated around a nearby lake and had good outdoor seating for the early evening.
Between the warm weather and Sandy’s dress, I felt like our little stroll was something out of a sappy romcom movie from the sixties. We settled at one of the restaurants (a personal favorite of mine because of their French/Asian fusion menu), snacking on some of the appetizers. This time, Sandy was sipping on some kind of lemon martini and I was enjoying Captain Morgan and coke. Unlike the previous night, the conversation was more relaxed and organic. She asked about my past as a bachelor (some of which I think Jo had already spilled the beans on, and I’m sure Sandy was looking for confirmation about), and she was a bit more open about her long and winding road. On her third martini, she seemed to get a bit more honest.
“I don’t know what I was thinking when I got married.” She said, nursing her drink.
“What do you mean?”
Sandy shook her head. “My ex and I – we were great as friends. We enjoyed watching football, going on bike rides. It’s when we started dating…things always seemed…off.”
There was a pause between us – I wasn’t sure what she meant and she didn’t volunteer much.
“Can you unpack that a little?”
Sandy took a deep breath.
“Or…we can talk about something else.”
Sandy took another drink. “No, it’s okay. I haven’t confided about this with many, but you seem like a good listener, so I kind of trust you.”
I ordered another round as Sandy downed the last dregs in her glass.
“Have you – have you ever been with someone and afterwards thought ‘was that it?’”
“Admittedly, yes.” I replied.
Sandy looked almost relieved. “That defined everything about our romantic connection.”
“Then why did you marry?”
Sandy shook her head. “We got along so well on every other level, I thought things would…I don’t know, get better?”
I nodded. “I get it. That sounds like a relationship I was in.”
“Really? What was that like?”
Without missing a beat, “She was the first person I ever asked to stop giving me blowjobs.”
Sandy nearly spat out her freshly-served drink. “Holy shit!”
“You get the idea.”
“Uh huh,” she nodded. “God, to feel that good again…” She quickly finished off her drink and looked up at the now twilight sky, then back at me with eyes that had something in mind behind them. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure.” Even though I was only half way done with my drink.
The walk back to my place felt a bit more rushed than earlier. It was still warm out so I had a feeling Sandy wasn’t trying to get in from the cold and her look from the restaurant told me that I was smart to clean up my place. She practically bounced up the stairs to my apartment and seemed to vibrate as I unlocked the door. I began with a five-minute tour of the place, showing her a few curious things and explained some of the art on the walls from my time as an art major in college. When I got to the bathroom she immediately ran in.
Suddenly, I wondered if my anticipation was a bad call on misreading her need to tinkle really bad.
She emerged from the bathroom and I finished by showing her the bedroom, complete with a made bed.
“I like your place,” she said.
“Thanks,” I replied and started to turn out the doorway and back to the living room, “Do you want something to dr – “
I felt her warm, soft, strong hand take a hold of mine and tug on my arm just enough to get me to turn back to her while not yanking it out its socket. She leaned into me and as we came together she drove her tongue into my mouth just like twenty four hours before. I didn’t even have time to curl my arms around her, we just stood there kissing deeply, holding hands. I put my hand on her hip and noticed no impression of panties or thong. My cock immediately went to full hard on in the blink of an eye. She leaned back a little in the direction of the bed and I gently pressed on her to keep moving that way in return. Our lips parted as the back of her thighs touched the bed.
She bit her lower lip and looked me in the eye, her cheeks pleasantly blushed. “Goddamn, I’ve been thinking about that tongue all day.”
We kissed again – hungry and powerful. I felt Sandy’s hands undoing my jeans as my hands traced up her back and back zipping off her dress. My jeans had no sooner hit the ground when one hand slid around my cock and stroked it lovingly. Her grip was strong, intense but not rough or overwrought. I began nuzzling her neck as her zipper reached the top of her ass, causing her dress to gently slide off. I became aware that her dress was the only thing she put on. She stroked my cock, even seeming to enjoy the precum already presenting itself without any hesitation. Her dress fell to the ground as I pulled off my shirt.
She was so well built. A fit body with just enough fat to make me want her more. Her breasts were the perfect roundness and nipples standing at full attention. Her legs perfectly framed wide hips with just the merest patch of well-tended hair between them. I had no sooner began kissing one breast and holding the other as she fell back onto the bed and spread her legs.
“Don’t worry about my tits,” she said with urgency, “Please get down there.”
Her pussy was wet. Funning my fingers over it, I was certain that she had probable been moistening since we sat down for drinks. I wasted no time and dove in, lapping my tongue all over the outside, exploring every fold, curve and lip. She tasted amazing. Her hair brushed against my nose with the perfect blend of irritation and arousal and her hands grabbed onto my hair with need. She gasped in hard as the tip of my tongue glided inside of her, and she moaned when I curled it around. I tried moving my hands up to feel her tits, but she pushed them away – her pussy was the only thing she wanted me to take care of. I took my time, endlessly licking and lapping at her ever-wetting mound, her hand drenched in her juices and my mouth. I concentrated on her clit, doing every shape and combination I could think of while I slid two fingers inside and curled them across her G spot.
She squirmed and yelled out loud.
I pulled away to catch my breath, still rubbing my fingers in and across her pussy. Sandy laid there, heavy breathing, arms limp on the bed. As I stood up she reached out and took my hand, pulling me onto the bed next to her. We kissed as she wrapped her hand around my cock and urged my hips closer to her. I hesitate a little.
“It’s okay,” she said between breaths, “I can’t have any more kids and I’m clean.”
Normally, I’d go straight to my night stand and pull out a condom anyway, but the moment got me and I went for it.
I rolled on top as she spread her legs open more. My cock felt amazing sliding around her wet mound, and more so as I rubbed the shaft against her pussy – which seemed to get even more wet compared to before.
“Goddamn it,” she moaned, “Please get in me!”
And I slid inside her. Mer pussy felt warm and soft against my harder than Hell cock. I took my time pushing it in, trying to get her anticipation up while enjoying the moment for myself. Her hands limply held my hips, her eyes stayed closed. I don’t know what got into me, but I quickly pulled out and rammed myself back in, and the yell erupting out of her was worth it. I fortified my position so I was less on the edge of the mattress and began pumping in and out of her. A slow, steady pace as I felt her warming up, then getting faster as I felt myself getting more turned on and into the moment. Sandy thrusted her hips back at me for pounding harder and deeper. She was gripping me harder with her hands as I kept fuckling her. I would slow down once or twice to pace myself and could feel her quivering inside, and she yelled nice and loud when things sped up. I had no doubt she was cumming hard now.
Eventually and I needed to slow down for a break. I was a little worried about cumming too soon, but the alcohol was keeping things in check and I was hard as ever throughout. Even when I briefly pulled out of her for a short break.
I curled up behind her, my hands roaming all over her breasts, stomach, hips and thighs. My hard, hot, wet cock laid perfectly against her ass. She turned her head to kiss me again and smiled without opening her eyes.
“I can still taste myself on you.”
I took my cock and entered her from behind, doggie style as we still laid on the bed. This time, there were no tricks or playfulness, just straight on fucking. I took turns bracing against her – either holding and caressing her tits or grabbing her tits. The satisfying sound of me slapping into her made me even harder, as well as her shouts as she came. Sandy rolled back over on her back and practically yanked my cock off while planting it inside of her. Her pussy was on fire and my cock so hard I it almost hurt. I pounded into her, pushing her legs up to get deeper. Soon enough I felt the wave begin and locked myself against her as my cock exploded, cumming harder than ever before. Wave after wave of cum pumped out of me inside her as she held tight with her legs wrapped around me. What I’m sure was no long felt like an eternity and almost hated it when we both relaxed and I finally laid down next to her.
“That,” Sandy said, breathing hard with a fine mist of sweat all over her, “Was good!”
“Thanks.”
“I – I mean it. I forgot how much I loved feeling that!”
I looked at her. I started to think it wasn’t a line.
“Really?”
She nodded, smiling. “Between my divorce, raising a kid and work, I haven’t gotten laid in two years.”
“I guess you needed that.”
“OH MY GOD, you have no idea! And fuck if I’ve never felt a man cum in my like that before.”
We stayed on the bed a while, holding each other, kissing and feeling one another. Sandy eventually got up and dressed, explaining that she would stay but wanted to get up tomorrow to get her house in order before her ex showed up in the afternoon with her son. I felt a slight pang of concern as being the one left alone after fucking, but didn’t want to push the issue. I dressed and walked Sandy out to her car to take the edge off the walk of shame. We kissed once more and she drove home.
Silence is Not Golden
Sandy and I traded texts for a few days until I noticed a drop off in her attention. At first, I assumed that she juggled a lot with work, school and her son. I don’t consider myself particularly needy or thirsty, so I left her a “how are you?” text and left it to her to get back to me whenever she could.
Over a week later, there was nothing.
I even crossed paths with Jo and she didn’t have any real insight, just a “beats me what’s going on” reaction to match mine.
As the next weekend loomed on the horizon, I decided to not get hung up on Sandy’s radio silence and make my own plans. A number of friends were either out of town or on dates, so I went for a night out on my own. I went over to one of the nearby trendy town centers and camped out at one of the chain restaurant’s bar for a burger and a beer or two. The weather was nice so the bar was open to the outside and the crowd was getting thick early on. I was halfway through my burger and at the bottom of my first beer when my phone buzzed.
Sandy texted me asking “What’s up?”
I told her I was out and not doing much else of anything. It’s when she said “I know, you look lonely at the bar” that I wondered what was going on. I looked around and then realized that she was sitting at a table behind me. She wore a lowcut top that had the full attention of the guys at the next table and a pair of jeans that looked great on her. The look on my face must have said it all.
“I’m sorry,” She said. “I got really busy.”
“C’mon, that’s a guy’s line.”
Sandy rolled her eyes. “I was a little freaked. I’ve been avoiding dating and got spooked by how I felt. The connection we had at your place was amazing. Maybe too much.”
“You couldn’t have said something? Anything?”
She shook her head. “I know, I know. I didn’t think you’d mind that much, I mean, you don’t look like you’re ready for anything serious either.”
Fair enough.
“Okay,” I said. “So, what now? Wait, how the Hell are you here? I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”
Sandy smile, “I like it here, too. I sometimes come here on my own, and I thought it was funny to spot you at the bar like that.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t bolt when you noticed.”
“Almost did,” Sandy said.
I noticed that her glass was nearly empty next to her.
“Maybe…maybe I can make it up to you?”
Without wasting too much on the details, we worked out going back to my place again.
I had no sooner shut the door than Sandy was on her knees unzipping my pants. Without hesitation, she pulled my pants and briefs down and took my cock in her mouth. She took turns between taking it in and out, sucking hard on it, and licking it from base to tip. Her style was direct and intense, and did wonders for turning me on. I leaned down and felt her tits as she worked on me, until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
I urged her up and we left a trail of clothes behind us as we ran to the bedroom. She leapt onto the bed and I wasted no time getting my cock into her and pounding as hard as I could. She let her arms and legs go where ever they wanted as I thrust myself in and out of her, sometimes feeling her up, other times grabbing her legs or hips. After a while we switched and she rode on top, letting me feel, knead and rub her tits. Other times she was on her back and rubbing her clit as I fucked her. We were hungry lovers and couldn’t get enough of being inside one another.
Eventually, she tapped on me for a break. I laid next to her, holding her in my arms as she closed her eyes and let her breathing slow. I relaxed and tried centering myself until I realized that her breathing had slowed to the point that she was asleep. I let her rest, trying to gather my own mixed thoughts about our encounters. I was amazed that my cock remained hard the whole time.
After a little while, I decided to see how horny Sandy was.
As she lightly slept, I slid my hand between her legs and gently massaged her clit. She slowly gyrated her hips and began moaning in her sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes, smiled and pulled me on top.
I began slow trying not to overwhelm her as she got to her senses, but a tug on my hips told me everything and I quickly picked up the pace. Soon I was pounding into her harder than before, causing her tits to bounce with every thrust until I came hard again, firing inside her as intense as the last time. I stayed on top of her, waiting forever for my cock to finally ease off as the look of awe on her face remained. She smiled as I finished and pulled out, a small dab of cum spilling onto her still perfectly trimmed hair that she rubbed with the tips of her fingers.
“Y’know, I’m not sure my tubes being tied is enough to stop you cumming like that.”
“Glad you like it,” I said smiling back.
We held each other for a while, not saying much. We kissed, played a bit more, but eventually she got dressed and left again. Even that night, I had the sinking feeling to not get too attached to this.
Almost on cue, a few days later she texted me. She loved our dates, but didn’t want to read more into than either of us were comfortable with. I admit, I wanted things to keep going with her given the chemistry, but got that she wasn’t on board with that. I tried suggesting a “friends with benefits” arrangement, but she still declined. Even Jo didn’t have a good explanation for her friend’s behavior. I still miss the sexual connection to Sandy, and hope that she still thinks about it from time to time.