accommodating people hidden disabilities - Dating girls with foot fetish

I noticed that for the one drink I’d had, he’d rapidly knocked back three.

He assured me he could hold his liquor, and that he didn’t get hangovers.

There’s only so many times in a night you can be told how beautiful, amazing, funny, nice-smelling, and sweet you are. The night climaxed when he told me how much he enjoyed giving foot massages.

dating girls with foot fetish-32

We sat at the bar, on corner seats, and ordered strong cocktails.

His background was fascinating: his family were Russian immigrants, he grew up in a rough part of New York, and was so studious that he was accepted into college a few years early.

The food was 10/10: a hot, pulled chicken sandwich with pickle, brimming with sweet, smoky and sour flavors; rosemary roasted fingerling potatoes that were crisp on the outside and silky on the inside, and lightly fried, chili and coriander cauliflower florets with a cooling herbed-yogurt. We devoured the plates with great pleasure; he was clearly a fellow foodie.

Two drinks later for him and one for me, I became aware of the extent to which he was touching me.

We were both East Villagers, and he suggested the bar.

I wore white distressed jeans, a white, sleeveless top (unbuttoned just the right amount), and my favorite Madewell, black leather, lace-up sandals. He was definitely not as lean as he looked in his profile pictures, but I liked his build.

She said: "Well you smell really nice, I keep getting a waft, what do you wear?

Erm I think it's a bit weird and I'm not sure I'd feel massively comfortable if it was a slight thing for feet then I might be able to deal with it but if that was one of his main things I'd just be creeped out.

We made our way to The Wayland – an excellent, atmospheric East Village bar.

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