Blowup Date

I've been going on a series of blind dates. This one was set up by my friend's co-worker when we all met for a cup of cappuccino in NYC's West Village. "Oh god, I have to set you up with Tom, you two will love each other, he's really cute, really funny, really, really rich, he's a lawyer."
Our first date was fine, he was cuter than I expected, easy conversation, but no real chemistry -- I had this instinct he might be gay but he didn't know it yet. Two weeks later he called me up for a second date, and I thought what the fuck, another free dinner. I can't resist thinking of dates as my secret anthropological dig, recording details for my solo performance work. This time we started off with martinis, and through dinner managed two bottles of white wine. We were loose and drunk and he began to unveil the secrets of his wealth, his nasty father and overbearing, very ill mother. "I love her, but I'll be glad when she's dead." "Have you ever slept with a man, Tom?" I blurt out. "No way, never, I love women." "I've slept with two women," I boldly confess, "didn't everyone in college?" "Not my friends." "Oh, it must be a generational thing," I conclude. "That's cool Ellen, actually kinda sexy." "Have you ever fantasized about having sex with a man?" I push. "Absolutely not, I could never, I'm not attracted to men, I'm totally turned on by women." I drop it, he seems defensive and perhaps I am wrong. We were having a nice time, laughing and comparing resumes, he was very competitive. It seemed everything I had done he had done too but decided on law, "more control." One thing he had never done was write and perform solo shows so he was dying to see my work. "Don't you have any videos?" "I do, but it doesn't make sense on video, you have to see it live so I'd rather not." He starts pleading like a bratty brother, "Oh come on, I just wanna see one of your videos, your apartment is right down the block, just five minutes, come on, I bet you're really funny and really talented." That's all I needed to hear. My shrink says my idea of a great orgasm is to have someone telling me how funny and talented I am. So we go.
"I'm gonna hold the remote control," I say. I surf to a "blind date" scene, in which a blow up sex doll plays the man. The "date" works for the Playboy channel and he's an asshole. In it I say, "So, when you were a child what did you want to be when you grew up?" The doll (me) responds, "I don't know, I don't have very many memories of my childhood." "Oh," I say, "then you must've been molested and you just don't know it yet!" Yuk, yuk, yuk, ha, ha, ha, the audience on screen and the one on my couch are stroking me. Tom proclaims, "You're hysterical, I wanna show this to my friends!" I'm pleased, drunk and begin to bounce around the apartment. "Want some water or something to drink?" "Love some," says the engrossed couch. I'm leaning over, pouring the water, and out of nowhere these arms grab me around the waist, this hot breath is on my neck and this cock starts bouncing on my ass. "Oh god, you are so sexy," he pumps. "Whoa, ha, ha, ha," I giggle, "I hardly know you." But you smell so nice and you're so funny." "I won't be funny in a minute," I giggle. "Sorry, sorry, you're right, you're just so, so hot." "Just sit," I order, "and drink your water, we really have to sober up." I hadn't been this drunk since college and felt like I was dreaming jump cutting from scene to scene.