Dutch Cuddles

I’ve got this amazing business idea.

It will cater to guys looking to propose to their girlfriends. It’ll give them the certainty they need to propose. How? By testing their girls.

That’s not as academic as it sounds. What we do is simple: I use every trick in every unwritten book to try and steal “his” girl. If she stays with him, he’ll know she’s good to marry.

The German thinks it’s a brilliant idea. Then again, she wants to stop studying towards being a teacher and become a pornstar, so she might be a little biased toward sexier job descriptions.

I, on the other hand, am just amazed it works.

Because there is no reason in the world why any girl would want to leave her stable, steady, employed, loyal partner for me.

And yet, they do. Every girl I’ve slept with in the last 5 years was in a relationship when we started fucking. Granted, there weren’t many – a hugely enjoyable total of four – and one of those was in a healthy open relationship. But it intrigues me as to why you’d leave what apparently you’d always wanted for me.

Of course, I haven’t “won” every girl. Memories of Sunglass Girl still make me blush. Then there was the Swede…god that was embarrassing. Curiously, those were both single.

There was also the Canadian. I have never been more instantaneously attracted to someone. I have never put more effort into a short encounter. It was the first time I actively followed every pick-up-artist technique. But she was heading back to Canada. In under 12 hours. To a boy with waiting arms.

She didn’t come home with me.

Pretty much, I have no problem with destroying relationships. That whole “sorry, I have a boyfriend” doesn’t sound like an excuse to me: It’s like saying “sorry, I’m wearing socks.” I can’t even find it in me to consider it unethical or wrong. I’m told that it’s wrong, and I’ve had a friend tell me very seriously that if I ever stole a girl from him, he’d be incredibly upset at me. Which confuses the hell out of me.

I just don’t get it. It’s like women are objects, to be stuck up on a wall and admired and woe betide anyone who removes them. It’s like women aren’t allowed to choose.

So, imagine my confusion when I fall in love with Dutchy (and her small bum) and then freak out at any sign she might return the feelings because I don’t want to ruin her relationship.

Weirdest series of thoughts in my head. “Oh, she might have feelings for me. That’s hot. But then she’ll have to choose between me and Hulk. He’s boring. But he’s been so good for her. And she’s so happy with him. Why would I want to ruin it? Wait, why do I care?”

I like that, though I know I have little to offer, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d be chosen over him. My arrogance is appalling.

Regardless, it’s the first time I know I’d back off to save another’s relationship.

Of course, there’s no need to back off: I channelled my usual honesty (with perhaps a hint of German influence) and asked if the feelings were returned.

And holy fuck does that chick have issues. I don’t know which of us was angrier with the other. But through a lengthy tirade of tears (mine), mutual misunderstanding (hers only actually, I’m amazing) and exasperation (ours), she eventually realised that I was not trying to fuck or date her and I realised that her feelings for me are not even slightly near mine for her.

Which is good. Cause now I still get Dutchy-cuddles.

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