Archive for April, 2013

29
Apr
13

quandary

By risquedivorcee Leave a Comment
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Huh. I was going to write something funny. I was. In fact, I still may. I have a cute, hot, interesting story to share. But I have a quandary that may turn into a rant and I feel like I want to get it out there. Here it is: what was I thinking when I decided to share this blog with actual people that I know? What was my motivation? Pride? Ego? Need for attention? Validation? Ugh.

I mean, yes – I’m proud of the writing I’ve been doing. Hell, I guess I’m pretty proud of the fucking I’ve been doing when you get right down to it. YES it is VALIDATING to be a fat, middle-aged woman who was essentially cast off by my spouse (who could barely manage to fuck me every six weeks or so,) who is now getting lots of action from a variety of lovers. This is rewarding, empowering and exciting. Yep! It’s also new, interesting, often humorous, and fun to write about.

But this blog, while written in part for you, is really for me. It’s a forum for me to share my thoughts, concerns, triumphs, hurts, fears, challenges, insecurities & successes. Part of the reason that I started doing it was that my dating life had started to dominate discussion with my friends and I wanted us to be able to talk about other things from time to time! My friends are awesome, encouraging and very supportive, but by sharing this blog with them I can say “oh, it’s going pretty well – yes, I saw him on Friday – if you want the details read the blog, but yeah, pretty nice.” They have the option of reading the details or not. Some do. Some don’t. Some read very regularly.

One potential lover told me “I really need my own entry in your blog.” That was very sweet. It made me feel good knowing that he was reading and that he cared, but that he didn’t give a shit that I was active with many other people. He still wants me.

I’ve been contemplating that a bit too – am I wanted because I’m fun, interesting, relaxed & sex-positive, or am I wanted because I put out? Both are valid, but the latter isn’t quite as flattering I guess.

Anyway, over the past few days I have had some interactions with several different people that have made me want to write about them in some detail. But I can’t. Because they or people that they know read this blog and would possibly recognize them. I have been very careful and conscious about privacy – my own as well as that of others. I wouldn’t want to ever “out” someone for engaging with me on a personal level – sexually or otherwise. However, I find myself feeling extremely frustrated by the fact that I am unable to write about personal issues that rock my world.

I’ll try to do the funny story later. 😦

29
Apr
13

I tell you that you smell like cheese, you climax in German…

By risquedivorcee 2 Comments
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I almost titled this blog entry “enjoying the perfectly pleasant” but I chose something with a little more “pop” instead. Plus it’s all true. Even my pleasant & comfortable is a little on the weird side. That’s okay, really!

Well, I had a perfectly pleasant date Friday night/Saturday morning. Nothing wrong with being spoiled rotten and seduced by someone who is attentive, sensual, generous, kind and nerdy. A little weird nerdy, but I don’t mind. I am too, I guess. This is Dancing Dr. Who/R40 who could also be “Nerdy Nathan Fillion” I guess. After drinks turned into dinner & a walk on Tuesday, I messaged him about getting together on Thursday or Friday. He responded fairly promptly and suggested that I come over to his place on Friday and he would cook for me. I should mention that he is very, very serious about his cooking. Very serious. Even his profile on OKCupid describes his interest in authentic, regional Italian cooking as well as gelato and ice cream. He’s passionate about researching, shopping for & creating meals as well as wine pairing and vintage craft cocktails. I found this to be both interesting and a bit obsessively intimidating, but I was looking forward to it and selected three different wines to pair with the menu he had planned. Several texts were exchanged about menu, preferences & wine – thus turning my casual evening into a bit of a production, but I was still looking forward to it. I even dressed a little less casually than I had originally planned – I figured if he was going to so much trouble I could as well.

I had the impression that I would be staying over given some of the suggestive, flirty talk that he had initiated, so I packed an overnight bag just in case – including my non-latex condoms, of course. I showed up a bit late (having told him I would be,) due to traffic and a fairly significant plumbing crisis at my house. I was delighted to turn the household emergency over to the landlord to deal with, but I had to shower at a friend’s place and was a bit frazzled by the time I arrived. I was taken aback by the stunning views at his rather impressive, old Victorian. It was very comfortable & I left my bag in the car & parked in the driveway. Having been duly introduced to the housemates, I wandered around the kitchen and the main floor just checking things out. He was prepping in the kitchen and in short order, pulled me in for a hug that turned into a caress & slight, swaying dance – with little butterfly kisses, body rubbing & light, gentle touches of my face, lips, nose & eyes. It was both sweet, intimate and slightly frustrating as we still hadn’t had an actual first kiss, but it was very calming and centering and very comfortable. I said as much to him – saying it was exactly the right thing that I needed at that moment. It was also very sweet that he took a moment just to breathe me in rather than just rushing around & working on dinner. I felt very welcomed and cherished. Pre-dinner fancy cocktails were also very appreciated and welcoming. Dinner was bruchetta, tuna steaks & fresh artichokes all grilled on the mesquite fire & served with an olive-oil & garlic herb sauce that you drizzled over the food. This made for some serious garlic breath, but it was so worth it because the food was amazing.

After dinner & clean-up that I was also barely allowed to help with, we moved to the couch and were discussing what to do next while essentially making out and finally having some real kisses. He made a comment about being tired and having to work the next day and mentioned that he was working near where I live (about 15 minutes away.) As he is another urban hipster that doesn’t drive by choice, I asked how he was getting there and he showed me the bus route he was planning to take. I offered an alternative. Open another bottle of wine, I stay & take you in the morning on my way home. Deal. We also agreed that we were too full to manage the three courses of dessert he had planned and I suggested saving them for breakfast – a notion that really seemed to amuse him.

After some more wine, a little dancing & a lot of kissing, we moved the party upstairs. I think we were both a little drunk and a fair bit exhausted by that time. His quarters were both charming and whimsical while also being slightly inconvenient and…perhaps a bit odd for an adult. It was the old servant’s quarters/attic up the winding back stairs off the kitchen. The only bathroom was also off the kitchen – in the floor below. Inconvenient! The space was put together well, however and the views were stunning. It was also a bit dusty and my allergies would probably have gone completely crazy if we hadn’t had a window open. While we were snuggling and making out I realized that between the warm day, small room, garlic and wood smoke we were a bit smelly. I was again glad that the window was open but I noted that his hair smelled of wood smoke and at some point in my dozy boozy state I told him that he smelled like a smoked gouda. For some reason, this seemed really appropriate with the foodie guy and he seemed to find it amusing and charming. Eventually talk turned to how long he would have been aged and my affinity for hard cheese. Yeah, it was weird but it sorta worked, you know?

Sex was lazy and a little vanilla – which is fine. (I swear, the food reference there was purely unintentional!) He was very enthusiastic and responsive, but let me lead which was somewhat unexpected. I don’t honestly remember what happened that slowed our progress, but somewhere in the middle we got distracted or there was a condom complication and he didn’t finish. I offered to help with that but he seemed fine just to sleep, spoon & cuddle. I slept okay – dozed mostly. Oddly, I kept having dreams about us having sex – that he had slipped in while spooning me (without a condom) or that I had finished him off with my mouth. The vivid dreams mixed with the muzzy reality created a very surreal combination of not being entirely clear on what had actually happened and what hadn’t. I also had to get up to go to the bathroom a couple of times and that was a perilous journey. I would take my phone with me because it had a flashlight app and one time quite late I noticed that I had missed a few texts while I had my ringer off. One was from “Soup Can” R30 asking where I was. Hmmm…booty call. One was from one of the 23-year-olds from last year pinging me for the first time in about eight months.  That was…interesting and unexpected. We messaged a little bit and I said that I was at a sleepover with a friend and just discreetly fucking with my phone. He said something about wishing he was discreetly fucking and also wanting to be naked. Drunk, young…cute as fuck but probably a really, really bad idea. I do like a man who is unfazed when I say I’m in another man’s bed though. I dig that a lot.

Anyway, morning found more snuggling and spooning with Dr. Who and before I knew it he was whipping out cookbooks and talking about breakfast. There was also espresso in bed – that was pretty awesome too but I did have to switch his focus to the fact that he had a woman in his bed who needed a morning wake-up. He didn’t take much convincing – a little re-directing put him on track and it was good if goofy. He requested me on top – okay, fine…but he did this weird little frog-kick with his legs that added some thrust that was very pleasant but looked a bit silly. I was laughing and noted “the little frog kick” and he said yes, he likes to do it “froggy style” which made me snort and also cum in short order. It was rather nice, but after awhile I asked if we could switch positions and he took the top. That was much more immediately satisfying and I could tell he was getting close and he got a bit loud. Okay, that’s fine…he began to sort of shout/moan near the end and then came with a flourish shouting “Wonderbar!”

Um, did you just climax in German? I laughed out loud and said “so, it’s not just Italian then, huh?” I really don’t mind fun and goofy sex. It was companionable and comfortable and pretty good – especially for people that are just learning each other. The German orgasm rather amused me. But hey, let your freak flag fly! I appreciate someone who can go with whatever they feel in the moment.

Breakfast was a beautiful frittata with local pancetta, rosemary stolen from the neighbors herb garden,  local organic eggs and onions. It was amazing. There were muscat grapes & some buckwheat porridge with raisins. Very strong coffee was a nice accompaniment with our meal and then we had the dessert from the night before – his homemade lavender coffee ice cream. It was amazing. My mouth was in love with the contrasting flavors. Eventually my mouth enjoyed a fine tooth-brushing and my body got a shower and we took off towards the burbs. I dropped him at his appointed spot and he needed to run but he kissed me, thanked me for the ride and said that he enjoyed himself. He said I am “one hot tomato” and I said “back atcha, kid” which was a weird response and apparently now it’s 1947, daddio.

R40/Dr. Who identifies as poly – as do I, really – in the sense that I am not looking for exclusive. Thus the fact that we’ve not talked a lot since isn’t too unusual. Yesterday he sent a text with something that he forgot to tell me that morning when he was “distracted” and then today I sent him a page from a recipe book that I thought would amuse him but he didn’t respond. I hope that we can see each other again – I think that we could get along nicely and he would make a nice addition to the regular rotation.

Wonderbar!

 

24
Apr
13

Sometimes it’s just fun to be a whore

By risquedivorcee Leave a Comment
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Oh it is! I love it! Though I guess I’m really just a slut since I don’t get paid!

For whatever weird reason – perhaps because I blogged twice yesterday – I am having a near-record day for blog hits & stats. This actually makes me feel great and I was feeling rather blue, wasn’t I?

Funny enough, I got a text this afternoon from R30 (Soup Can Man) asking how his sex goddess was doing. I had to laugh because I had just made this R40 entry last night and decided that nicknames needed to be added to avoid confusion. R40 is Dancing Doctor Who. We exchanged some texts today too but nothing mushy or flirty. The next two days are supposed to be glorious and I want to ask him to do something but I already feel like I may have overwhelmed him with my personality and nervous monologuing.

No word from P29/Brad Pitt at all – even when I messaged that I hoped he was feeling better. So we’re back to that I guess. Bummer.

Anyway, enough whinging! I acknowledge and validate my feelings, but I also recognize that my social life is much better than most and keeps me engaged, happy & sexually satisfied for the most part. In other words, I have little to complain about overall.

Meanwhile, I am being a total whore right this minute – I’m doing a new blog entry just so you will look at it, read it & push my stats up over the top to a new, record-breaking day.

I love you guys! Be good to each other!

24
Apr
13

but…but…I wore sexy underwear & shaved!

By risquedivorcee 4 Comments
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I think I need a pep-talk. I’ve been giving myself one while singing and hanging out at a favorite bar and I am feeling better, but I am dismayed that I felt so…disappointed and rejected.

I know I’m supposed to be witty & entertaining, but this blog is my journal and an archive of my journey, so you get to hear about my insecurities and disappointments as well. It’s hard not to feel a little bit sad when you’re sitting home alone wearing your sexiest underwear after your “date” went home after about 40 minutes.

I know I’m being irrational. But tonight my logical and my emotional were at odds and that’s when my insecurity crept in & took a firm hold. So, after meeting my first date of the night (more on that in a sec,) I went to a nearby friend’s house to change from my slightly more “dressy” work/first meet clothes into my rockin’ hot dive bar karaoke with a sexy cowboy clothes. We’re talking skinny, ankle-zip distressed jeans, cute shoes & a faux vintage Van Halen 1984 tour t-shirt. And fantastic underwear. Black lace with nude underlay demi cup bra and black lace boy shorts. My ass looked fantastic in the undies and in the jeans. I was feeling good and had turned my nervous energy from earlier into sassy, sexy confidence.

We didn’t have a set meet time, but I had confirmed that we would both be there tonight. I packed an overnight bag because a sexy sleepover was likely given our history and his close proximity to the bar. I was looking forward to his fantastic bed and body – and singing. He’s a great singer & I hadn’t heard him since the night we met two months ago. I was looking forward to showing off and flirting and at some point having him put his hand at the small of my back and ask me back to his place. I really had imagined how it would go and was full of anticipation and excitement.

I got there around 9:40 and I saw him right away when I walked in. I went & exchanged a hug with the sexy bartender (who may or may not read this blog and who is dead sexy,) then, without having seen me, P29 went out the side door to smoke. I ordered a drink and set it down next to his at the bar and went to look through the books to see if my “theme songs” were available. He saw me when he walked in and acknowledged me and returned to his seat. I took my time finishing my task then cooly walked over (I’m being cool, remember?) I said hi & we sort of half-hugged and he said something immediately about not feeling well and not staying. He said his stomach was really upset and blamed Jack-in-the-Box. I willingly admit that he didn’t look great & he visited the bathroom soon after. I stepped outside to smoke, chatted with someone I knew out there and P29 soon followed. He asked me if he could get his jacket (that’s been living in my front closet for 2 months) from me then rather than later so that he didn’t forget. Oooohhhhh…here’s your hat, what’s your hurry? I said “sure, walk with me” and we walked together to my car.

I told him that I was really sorry that he was feeling sick and said that those weren’t the kind of moans that I liked to hear from him. He laughed at that, which was good, then said “it is what it is, but it sucks. All I wanted to do was sing.” I flirtatiously quipped “is that all you wanted to do?” To which he responded: “yeah, I have to get up early in the morning…” he was meeting a former military contact who was going to give him a job recommendation or something. I was all enthusiastic & “good for you – that’s great – good luck” and we went back inside. He did his song (swoon, panties dampen, yum…) then came back to me and we chatted some but it was loud and talking wasn’t ideal. He said he should at least stay for my first song, which he did, but he had his (other) jacket on by the time I was finished, gave me a hug and said he would talk to me soon.

Okay, the man is ill. We just had red-hot fantastic sex three days ago. I’m a terrible, greedy, heartless, self-centered bitch, right? Because there was and is a big part of me that felt like it was maybe just a polite blow-off & that he wasn’t sick in the least. UGH. I hate feeling that way! It makes me feel like I’m being needy and clingy and worst of all, suspicious – none of which I am entitled to in the least. But these are feelings after all and I can’t control that.

I also realize that this is someone who is also going through major change and transition in his life and perhaps a bit of depression. He left Afghanistan in January after a lengthy tour – his second, I believe. He’s living off his savings and hasn’t worked since he’s been back. He told me that his sleep schedule is all messed up & I know he’s been looking for work. Or rather, he’s been “being a lazy fucker” as he said, and not actively looking for work. The messiness of his apartment suggests that he’s been staying in a lot and he told me in February that he’s as unfit as he’s ever been & doesn’t like it. Though he seems to have actually put on a bit of weight between February & April. So…even if he was bowing out gracefully, it’s possible that it’s because he was feeling moody & unhappy and it has nothing to do with me.

Yet, I had my expectations (I even shaved my legs & armpits & neatly trimmed my lady business!) I’ve never been good at resetting my expectations. I like things to go the way that I plan them and man, I had some pretty specific and pleasurable plans in my head. Anyway, I was disappointed and then dismayed at the feelings that that prompted. Which sucks.

I will remind myself again that we just had amazing sex on Saturday morning and that he is not someone who does a 10-minute quickie. He’s pretty detail-oriented and last time we must have spent close to three hours enjoying each other. So…if he did have to get up early…okay. Anyway, I like “Young Brad Pitt” and was delighted to have him drift into my life. I hope he doesn’t drift out again and I hope he’s not getting weird. I mean, there’s no polite way that I know of to say “dude, you’ve had your tongue in my ass – don’t go getting weird on me now!”

Meanwhile, my earlier date went pretty well, I do believe. I’m going to start adding a descriptive modifier as well as the initial/age designation for my dates because I think it’s easier to keep track of. So, I’m going to call this one Dancing Doctor Who. Why? Because he is very involved with the blues dancing scene and also a big Dr. Who fan. His designation is R40 – not to be confused with R30 (see why I’m changing this?) No, he doesn’t look like Dr. Who but he’s sort of a little chubby and both handsome and dorky. Also kind of a chestnut ginger – something I didn’t pick up on from his photos. Imagine a slightly pudgier & nerdier Nathan Fillion if you will. We met at this really great speakeasy-type vintage bar in a historic building. Excellent place with fantastic craft cocktails and great ambiance. He was a little bit late due to traffic & let me know 20 minutes ahead of time that his bus was running late. Courteous. Tall. Funny. Nerdy. I do so love the nerdy! We talked very easily for a couple of hours and then he said that he wanted to grab some more substantive food before going to dance and asked me if I would care to join him at a nearby taco truck. Sure, why not? I’m wearing white pants, but I have a couple of changes of clothes in the car. I did mention that I was short on cash, however and assumed that a taco truck might not take a card. We agreed that I would pay for the drinks and he would pay for the tacos. Cool. Good communication. Comfortable. Witty. Much in common. Like-minded.

The “taco truck” was really more of a casual restaurant. Very good. We ate & talked some more and there was some light hand-brushing initiated by him that said “hey, what up, physical contact – I like you!” Okay, that felt pleasant & comfortable as well. I walked him to his dance space and he said it was a shame that I had other plans or he would invite me to stay and dance. Nice. We agreed to see each other again, said we enjoyed it and exchanged a couple of good, solid slightly long hugs and a chaste cheek kiss (he initiated.) Yes. I approve.

The dancing makes me a tad nervous – I don’t have any experience with it but it also looks like fun and God knows I need to exercise more! While we were discussing dance I said that I wasn’t sure if I would be good at following someone’s lead. I admit that as he was describing being the leader being confident, commanding, inventive & communicating moves to their partner and the partner needing to anticipate, meet and respond…I was absolutely thinking about sex.

Good first-meet & my first OkCupid meet-up. Someone I will see again for sure.

I really like the reverse order that I put the description of my two dates in when writing about them. It was actually pretty helpful in making me feel better by reminding me that I have options, flavors, choices, variety and people who find me interesting and attractive.

It’s almost 4:30am. I’m a stupid idiot for being up this late! Goodnight!

 

 

23
Apr
13

I don’t often get nervous

By risquedivorcee 1 Comment
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I really don’t get nervous very often. I’m comfortable and confident as a general rule. I treat people like human beings and never put all my eggs in one basket where dating is concerned. Yet…I am full of spastic, excited energy right now that I have to assume is somewhat related to…nerves??

I’m restless. I feel like squealing or talking someone’s face off. I guess that’s what I am a bit worried about. I’m afraid that I will get to this first meet-up with this new guy & just have severe diarrhea of the mouth. I’ve been known to do that!

I also didn’t eat & lost my wallet earlier – both contributing factors to me being a little off, perhaps. I also have a very busy week including a show that I am performing in this weekend – factors? It’s also a gorgeous, sunny, warm day – yay! Add to that I just booked a great deal on a trip to Vegas for my birthday in June and I am crazy excited! Squee!

Men, boys, interests, opportunities, excitement and a day with two dates with two interesting & sexy men? Yes, please! I confirmed karaoke with P29 tonight & I am really looking forward to that! I expect that I will wind up sleeping over at his place & packed a bag just in case. I’m excited. But I need to play it cool!

My former therapist used to give me exercises to help me sit in the space I was in and feel because after a lifetime of looking after others I had a really hard time being in touch with my feelings. Corny, but true nonetheless. I’m trying to do this today. Do I feel nervous or am I just so excited and happy that I’m having trouble not jumping out of my skin? I think it’s the latter, but I also feel like the end result is the same.

I’m a dork. I’m a spaz. I’m not chill.

22
Apr
13

Embracing the Unexpected (firmly, with my thighs…)

By risquedivorcee 7 Comments
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Hoo boy! Apologies, friends & followers – I am so behind on blogging! I promise it’s because I’ve been dutifully collecting more material to write about! This weekend was a very unexpectedly good one too! I have enough words & ideas floating in my head for several blog entries. If only I could do a data dump via memory stick rather than my fingers I’d be better able to keep up!

Friday night found me home after work with no plans to speak of.  My intent was to avoid the pissing rain by staying in and catching up on some laundry, house cleaning & movies. It was cold enough that I was considering building a fire and about to thaw some soup out for dinner. Then, at 6:51pm, I was offered an opportunity to go see Prince perform at the Showbox theater at the Market – a very intimate (1100 capacity) venue and a very coveted ticket. The four shows he was doing there had been sold-out for months! The catch was? It was general admission and the doors were supposed to have been at 6:30 but were pushed to 7:00. I live about 15 minutes away and was well on my way to slack and sloth – with no makeup, a t-shirt, jeans & a hoodie. Well, I jumped on it hard! Within 8 minutes I had applied some eyeshadow, put on a “boobie shirt” and some cute boots with a little heel, ran a brush through my hair & was driving. I zoomed into Seattle with moderate traffic for a Friday evening, found excellent (if expensive) parking in a lot a block from the venue, grabbed a junky umbrella out of my car (because it was pouring,) and RAN! I was relieved to see that the line for the show still stretched around the corner, but was motivated to hurry because it was starting to move. I called my friend while I ran and she said that they were just under the marquee and about to be let in.

“Is that you with the pink umbrella?”

“YEP!”

ZOOM! I met them at the door, grabbed my ticket, threw the umbrella in the trash can and strode in to the theater for one of the most exciting, loud, energetic, interactive and ROCKING shows that I’ve been to! The Purple One was charming & engaging, full of humor and wit, dead sexy and had a fantastic, all-female band that rocked. Tight guitar licks swelled and it felt like a house-party jam at times. He did a nice mix of new stuff and yet gave a nod to his hits by opening with “Let’s go Crazy” and closing with “Purple Rain” after a subtle reference to the tragedy in Boston and our need to heal & feel good. Perfect.

My friends refused to take any money for the ticket which I later realized had a face value of $275 and was scalping for $500 easily. Jeez! What an unexpected treat! They said I could babysit for them sometime. DEAL!

When the show ended around 10:45 I was completely amped up and also famished, but my friends were anxious to get home to relieve their sitter, so we parted ways and I found myself full of energy, hungry and…in Seattle by myself with no plans. I realized that a (just friends) friend of mine was hosting karaoke at a bar I like about seven minutes away and decided to go there for some food, singing & company. Excellent choice!

My friend was delightedly surprised to see me. I had sent him a hasty text earlier about Prince and he was suitably jealous and also wanted all the details. My food was excellent and satisfying and the crowd was extremely receptive and enthusiastic for karaoke. There were also a lot of good singers and a fairly short rotation, but the energy of the crowd made me feel like a goddess every time I had a mic in hand. I was still flying high (and also slightly deaf) but planned to leave before the adrenaline waned and fatigue hit. Around 12:30 when I made noises about shoving off my friend protested and insisted that I stay. Then I sang some more, people asked to sing with me and the rotation of singers got shorter…okay, twist my arm!

Around 1:30 my friend’s boss who owns the karaoke business showed up to collect him and the equipment. He is also someone that I consider a friend and we were sitting and chatting when my phone chimed to indicate that I had a text. Thinking it could only be my ex hubby texting me at 1:45 in the morning, I was very pleasantly surprised to see that it was my long-lost “1994 Brad Pitt” whom I hadn’t seen since February but had periodically exchanged some wicked-hot texts with! Normally, I am the one who initiates contact with him, so this was unexpected to begin with, but what he said was that he would be at the club we met at on Tuesday – an invitation to get together again. Also unexpected! Tuesdays at that bar are karaoke nights as well and that’s how we met. The host on Tuesdays is “the boss” that I was sitting with right that minute, so I sent a response saying just that:

“Funny, I’m sitting here talking with XXX right now. He says the theme for Tuesday is ‘work’.”

An immediate response followed wondering where I was, I told him and about my most excellent night & he responded with stuff like “gotcha beautiful” which made my heart and crotch leap because I really enjoy this guy a lot but had basically written him off because he’s so inconsistent. Sometimes he goes out and is an attention whore, sometimes he holes up like a hermit, sometimes he’s chatty & even dirty, sometimes he’s non-responsive or monosyllabic. Also, he’s very young and beautiful, so there’s a little bit of an insecurity issue. Ugh…well, not exactly. I feel perfectly sexy and comfortable with him for the most part, but the reality is that he is smoking hot and must have lots of other opportunities. Realistically, I don’t expect to hear from him often, but am glad when I do. Does that make sense? I’m not putting myself down, I’m trying to express the reality. I do the same thing myself – I have men that interest me more than others for various reasons. But I had sent this guy a really direct & raunchy text last week saying how I wanted to get “growlfucked” and to ride his beard and he had just responded by saying that he was sick and not expressing any particular degree of enthusiasm for the idea in different circumstances. Anyway, unexpected…

Given this background, I decided to be slightly less direct, but I messaged that I was still “totally amped” and he offered that I should come to his place, saying he would be more than happy to have me sit on his face if I wanted. Oh yessssss…..

So this guy’s official designation using my system of initial & age would be P29. However, when talking to my friends & they say “now which one is he?” I say “Young Brad Pitt” or “Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall” because, yeah…it sort of works. He’s heart-poundingly yummy and I’m sort of stunned that I’ve had sex with him three times and slept overnight with him twice. The fact that we’ve talked a lot, watched a movie while snuggling and that he took my hand while walking me from my car to his door the other night? *sigh*

We met on Valentine’s Day of all things stupid and possibly ironic. I had thrown together an impromptu “anti-Valentine’s Day” outing for myself and four other single friends to go to this dive bar that I enjoy. It was karaoke night, lady’s night and they were doing some Valentine’s-themed pub games that were fun. I brought a huge box of gourmet chocolate that my client had given me and shared it around the bar. It wasn’t very busy, but the fairly light crowd was really engaging and lively. P29 caught my eye for a couple of reasons – one, because he was alone and clearly there for the singing. This is something that I do fairly often, so I guess I just sort of noted the kindred spirit. Two, he is sort of my “type” – longish hair, beard. But he was wearing a sort of loose jersey & baggy jeans that night and didn’t look insanely hot. We spoke a couple of times – once out on the patio while smoking. He was a little stand-offish and slightly dark. We joked about Valentine’s Day and he said something about not being good with women and I said “I somehow doubt that you have a problem in that area” – something that just came out of my mouth because he was dead pretty, you know? Scruffy, but lovely. I swear I wasn’t really flirting with any intent at that point. Just being conversational, really.

Later, having heard his amazing voice, I asked him if he wanted to sing a duet with me. He declined, saying that he was feeling a little bit selfish and solitary. Later, he approached me and apologized saying that he had recently returned from a long tour in Afghanistan and that he was struggling with re-entry a bit and feeling somewhat overwhelmed. We chatted a bit about that and then he added that part of why he didn’t want to sing together was that he was feeling like he was “off” that night and not sounding good. Whereupon I had to tell him that he was an idiot. 🙂 Later, perhaps after a few drinks, he asked me what I was thinking of singing and I suggested “Don’t go Breakin’ My Heart” by Elton John & Kiki Dee. He agreed to sing with me and it was pretty darn good and also fun. Later as all my friends but one left and the singing rotation got shorter, we cheered each other and chatted a bit more. At one point, he turned to me and said “So, XXX, what kind of work do you do?” and I had my first little tingle of recognition that he might just be chatting me up. Hmmmm…

At closing time, about five of us were mingling outside chatting and making goodbye sounds. P29 had told me about another karaoke venue that he frequented and on a whim, I gave him my personal card & said he should let me know if he wanted to sing together again or whatever. About that time, the karaoke host that I knew casually a bit but not well, indicated that he had missed the last bus and asked if anyone could take him to a different bus stop. My remaining friend volunteered me and when I heard where he lived, I offered to drive him home.*

*I feel the need to insert a safety note here – this is someone whose employer I know and I knew by first & last name. He’s also gay and I felt completely at ease driving him home.

Anyway, I am so glad that I drove the karaoke host home because it was the catalyst that launched our friendship and I enjoy him tremendously (he’s the host that I mentioned meeting up with after Prince as well.) We’re close enough friends now that I’ve been to his birthday party, we’ve had a road trip and he’s met my kids. So yes, super happy to see him home safely, but it cut off any potential continued conversation with P29 and I really didn’t expect to hear from him again. Once again however, I need to embrace the unexpected, because just as I was leaving THE VOICE’s place, I got a text saying “I didn’t think it was fair that I had your number and you didn’t have mine, so this is me.” We then proceeded to message for another hour or so – nothing big, just two people chatting at 4am.

The next day I think we exchanged a few messages – that was a Friday. On Saturday we somehow managed to text all day long while I was cleaning house and attending to errands. Nothing really flirty or anything – just friendly & conversational – much about movies, TV, singing. I was watching Breaking Bad on Netflix for the first time and we spent a lot of time on that subject. Later, he went out to sing and I was a little bummed that he didn’t invite me to join since I had let him know that I didn’t have plans. Oddly, however, he continued to text me while he was at the bar & throughout the evening. Finally, around midnight, he sent an adorable text that said: “So since I have some alcohol in me now and less fear, were you hitting on me the other night because that’s the vibe I was getting but my people skills are off since getting back.” My response went like this: “Generally speaking, yes. But I legitimately wouldn’t mind singing, chatting, etc. either.” (SEND) “But yeah, I gave you my number because you seemed interesting, sexy and what the fuck? I’m a single, grown-ass adult. :)” (SEND) “But I am also gifted with a very pragmatic sense of reality in that I am aware that I am a certain age and a certain flavor.” (SEND) He indicated an interest in the hanging out and said he wasn’t looking for anything remotely serious but was disappointed when I gave THE VOICE a ride home because he wanted to talk a little more and at least make out with me. The he followed that with “And I could care less about age and usually prefer a woman with some meat on her bones.”  I told him that I was pleasantly surprised to have heard from him and that I’m usually not so forward with morose men in bars. More conversation about expectations followed and he mentioned getting together to sing or for movies the following day (which we had discussed previously.) Finally, I just went for it and asked what he was doing right that minute. It was 12:45 by that time, but we’d been essentially flirting all day and he seemed to have tapped into his direct & flirty zone, so I went with it. I said that he should come over then and stay for movies the next day. He agreed.

This is my favorite part in what’s essentially a three-parter of an entry & becoming very long, I realize. He offered to bring food, mixers – very polite. I gave him my address & he headed over. I heard him pull up earlier than I expected & went to answer the door. OH MAN!  I mean, my God, this guy was cute with his scruffy hair & beard in the bar, with the hockey jersey or whatever. But what showed up at my door? I pretty much needed to mop my floor because I think I squirted right then & there. Wavy light brown hair with blonde highlights pulled back into a neat ponytail. Gorgeous distressed leather jacket over a dark dress shirt & black tee. Jeans that hugged all the right spots and beautiful, broken-in, leather cowboy boots (but not the gross kind that are too decorative.) He was seriously beautiful and I was going to make the sex with him. OH> MY> GOD!

So yeah, that we did and it was also unexpectedly amazingly excellent. I mean, I figured it would be good and nice and pleasant and maybe even fun. I didn’t expect someone that young to take command like he did, to be as oral as he was or to be so complimentary or responsive. He was very generous and kept saying my name and telling me how beautiful I was or how much he loved this or that. I was surprised to find that when it was my turn to give him some oral – after enjoying some beard-soakingly-good cunnilingus and analingus – that he wasn’t actually hard. Of course I knew that he’d been drinking a bit, but still, it was unexpected. Turns out, he just needs a rough touch. He likes it very physical and he growls in appreciation when you hit it right, which apparently I did. He’s a grower not a shower and I was quite happy that his little mushroom sprouted into a fine specimen of manhood to match the rest of him. We had some really exceptional sex that was downright fantastic for first-time stuff and here’s young Brad Pitt under me apologizing because he came too quick and it had really been awhile. Dudes, he did not come too quickly and he was a genius with mouth, tongue, fingers and beard. Crikey. So delicious was he that I had to have him again around 8am and then then I asked him to settle a bar bet by telling me how old he was. By this time I already figured he was a little bit older than I had originally thought, but yeah, he’s 29. I still qualify as a cougar I guess. 🙂 Later, he slept until nearly 1 – while I occasionally watched him because his serene face was simply beautiful to look at. When he woke we actually watched the movie that had more or less been sex pretense – that was nice. We cuddled and kissed a bit more too – again, not typical morning-after behavior, right? But that was the last time I saw him for two months. Yes, there were messages – some very raunchy and sexy, but we didn’t re-connect until Friday.

Well, Saturday morning, I guess. By the time I got to his place it was around 2:30am. I asked if I could bring anything and he said “just you” and he directed me to a lot where I could park overnight and until 5pm the next day. Oh, okay. I guess I’m staying over, huh? YAY! I was having trouble finding the lot he’d directed me to, so I pulled over & sent him a text. The knock on my passenger-side window caused me to let loose a Jamie Lee Curtis-like scream and a string of swear words and there he was, chuckling and telling me that I need to relax. But how can I relax when you look delicious in that cowboy hat and…oh yum. He hopped in and directed me to park then insisted on paying the fee because I was his guest. Nice. Walking to his place he took my hand. Also nice. Hi, how have you been? 🙂

Continuing our “unexpected” theme I have to kick myself in the ass for my preconceived ideas. I expected his place to be a tiny little walk-up apartment. Not so. Brand new building, beautifully decorated, him on the 5th floor. Granted, his place was a complete mess, but it was beautiful and the best part was his gorgeous king-sized Tempurpedic mattress and leather headboard. He said that after years of sleeping in crappy quarters that he splurged on the bed and that it was amazing. It was. He was.

I was sore from standing during Prince and he helped me take my boots off and massaged my feet. Then he guided me down on the bed, climbed on me and started massaging my back and shoulders. Of course, the least I could do was insist on getting naked so that he could do a more thorough job – which he did. Soon we were both naked and making out like crazy. I was reminded how much this man loves to eat pussy in very short order. Seriously, it was all about me and he ate like a starving man. No polite clit-licking this – we’re talking noisy, sloppy, full-face slurping interspersed with comments about how delicious I was. After I soaked his beard a few times I had to take an opportunity to taste myself on him and clean up his face. I am in fact pretty delicious – especially on his lips. When I took a turn giving him some oral attention – remembering that he likes a rough touch – he insisted that I should sit on his face while sucking his cock because he wanted more of me. God. Damn.

After a long time in this configuration, he let me know when it was time for one of my condoms and I put it on him with my mouth while he moaned. I let him choose the position and he opted for me on top. We did that for a good long while with lots of feedback from him again but in my enthusiasm, he fell out at one point and we had a little trouble getting him re-situated so he flipped me over and started going to work on my pussy & ass with his mouth & fingers again. I think I finally just died and went to heaven because eventually I came in a torrent and laid back and said “shattered” which made him laugh and say that he was glad I enjoyed it.

Now, with older men, I’ve witnessed a fair bit of embarrassment if not frustration if they are unable to perform. Not so with P29. He calmly and with good humor said that his dick was being stubborn, cited the many drinks that he had had earlier and seemed nonplussed by it. I stroked his body & played with his nipples while he sucked air in his teeth and then said that I was more than happy to try to offer further “encouragement” if that’s what he wanted, but that I didn’t want to pressure him if he didn’t think he was up to the task. He said he liked what I was doing and didn’t feel pressured and would let me know if he couldn’t. So…I set to work with my mouth in a way that he immediately responded to very favorably.

One more unexpected moment – if, at my age and level of experience someone does something unique that I’ve never had anyone do before? That’s very surprising. This guy? Full of surprises. Simply being as genuinely oral as he is is a surprising and unusual treat. The ass-play is also a bit of a unique treat – particularly because I enjoy a little bit of play but am not really a fan of a full-on butt reaming. This guy is really great at giving direction – both verbally and non-verbally. I’m usually a little bit dominant, particularly with someone new and this was only our second time being together so it was fascinating that he was able to lead and direct me so well. The “oh, hey – that’s different” moment came when I was sucking him off and he once again asked me to get into a 69 position with me on top. Seriously – he didn’t just want me to blow him, he wanted me to sit on his face while doing so. I was doing some of my best work and would sometimes ease up on the full business in order to concentrate on the tip. If I did this for very long he would wrap his leg around my head and gently push my head back down his length to take him deep. He did this twice and I thought it was both athletic and also clever – he never had to use his hands that were so busy elsewhere.

Eventually, I managed to even distract him from that task which he was enjoying so much. When he came it was loud and very long with full body spasm and ongoing shudders and many a “holy shit” “oh fuck” and such uttered. I responded with his line that I was glad that he enjoyed it.

He was quite clear about having me stay over, but didn’t seem interested in fooling around in the morning but he did insist on walking me to my car like the gentleman I am discovering him to be. We’re supposed to be meeting tomorrow night but it’s very loose & casual. That’s what I struggle with where this one is concerned. I don’t want to make a big deal of things, but I would like to be able to plan and enjoy time together. I guess I fear that I am just a drunk booty call – which I’m not completely opposed to considering how good the sex is. However, I like him as a person as well and wouldn’t mind having that comfort level to say “hey, do you want to do XYZ?” without feeling like maybe I was imposing. Frankly, the fact that I feel that way pisses me off for a couple of reasons. One, he’s never been anything but nice, kind, generous, complimentary, gentlemanly and honest with me. I like that, but I have also had him be non-responsive to texts or respond minimally. It’s frustrating. I feel like this may be one reason that I am more suited to a polyamorous model for relationships. I love it when I can say “yeah, I had a date Friday” to someone that I am involved with and have it not be a weird thing. It’s very liberating. (It’s also a future blog topic!)

Which leads me to tomorrow – when I’m meeting someone new for happy hour at 5pm and hopefully still meeting up with P29 around 9pm. In any case I will bring an overnight bag and my handy-dandy non-latex condoms just in case. And maybe I’ll take a vitamin too – 29-year-olds are exhausting! 😉

17
Apr
13

Not waiting for the phone to ring, but will still answer…

By risquedivorcee 1 Comment
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I’m not sure that I’m feeling witty. I’m feeling tired & hungry, this is sure. But I wanted to post something because I know that I won’t have a chance to do so tomorrow unless I get up at an ungodly early hour. Little chance of that since it’s already past 3am.

Unexpectedly, plans developed late this afternoon to spend some time with C43 this evening. He’s the guy I could be crazy about if not for the fact that he feels “no sparks” and this has put us in a friend zone. Still, we have so much in common and I enjoy talking with him so much that I am willing to have a sexless friendship with him. I’m a human being after all – I have friends! Though I acknowledge being a sex-loving slutty human being who is hugely attracted to this man. What’s weird is that we have settled into a very comfortable friendship but…there’s still some lingering “maybe” residue that sometimes causes tension.

I mean, this is someone that I met through a dating site, fucked once and then…he got sick, I was out of town for two weeks…by the time we saw each other again things had sadly cooled. But I like him as a person a lot and figured we could be friends. I feel comfortable discussing almost everything with him and love hearing how his brain processes, argues & articulates points. We share a wicked sense of humor too. I value the person that he is and am willing to take what he offers in terms of a friendship.

Please note that I said that I can talk about “almost” anything with him. What we don’t talk about is other people that we date or fuck. In fact, if I had to wager, I would bet that he hasn’t been with anyone since he was with me in late November. I could be wrong, but that’s the vibe I get. Whereas…well, if you’ve been reading you know I’ve been keeping busy. Which is a good thing, I think. I’m delighted that my new & improved self isn’t sitting around pining for this guy who is so worthy of it in many ways yet so frustrating in others.

But if we’re “just friends” why don’t I feel comfortable talking about dating with him? He’s a writer and I would love to share this blog with him, actually. I think he would enjoy it quite a bit. Except for the fact that…well, not only does it mention him and my feelings about him, but it has some pretty detailed accounts of my exploits with other men as well. For some reason, despite being firmly in “the friend zone” I feel like we kind of still have one foot in the date zone. Let me reiterate, I’m not sitting around waiting for him to clue in and change his mind about us, but…maybe I am??

Points to ponder.

Meanwhile, I completely forgot about the fact that I signed up for OKCupid earlier today before I went to work. I found two messages there for me – neither of interest. Why the heck were there only two?!?!? I poked around there for a bit just now. Interesting. I’m intrigued by the number of marrieds & poly-folk there. It seems to be a much more intelligent and honest bunch than I have found thus far on Plenty of Fish. I will have to spend some more time there soon.

16
Apr
13

The Hair Down There

By risquedivorcee 2 Comments
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When I was a child I was obsessed with the notion of growing up and “getting hairy” – so much so that my mom, thinking it cute, even mentioned it in my baby book. As an adolescent, with Judy Bloom as my spirit guide, I couldn’t wait for my body to change – to grow boobs, to get hairy and to shed my uterine lining each month to prove that I was finally a real woman.

Now that I’m in my early 40s, I have more unwanted hair and bigger boobs than any one person should have.  I no longer have a uterus and though I’m certainly still a real woman, I find myself once again perplexed by what I can only call a “trend” in today’s sexual & grooming scene – the naked vagina.  Yes, the pube-less pubis has been “trending” for at least a decade, but it now seems to be expected rather than a “sometimes treat.”

Having come of age in the 80’s – I was pretty accustomed to big hair and this was not limited to heads and MTV videos. Remember Madonna & Vanessa Williams? Big ol’ bushes. This used to be considered sexy.

http://www.egotastic.com/photos/madonna-nude-photo-up-for-auction/early-madonna-nude-pictures-from-1979-9/

These days it seems that having hair down there is almost deemed gross or shameful. I am shocked by the number of men who actually ask me if I’m shaved before we even meet. Some seem downright obsessive about a trimmed quim.

Interestingly, the younger crowd seems even more likely to consider this the norm. About 1/4 of the men that I have slept with since I’ve been single have also been hairless. My observation is that it is a far more common practice for younger men to do.

I admit that the first time I reached down and found a shorn & stubbly scrotum during a sex act I had to stifle a giggle. That tends to be my “signature move” when dealing with something new or unexpected. I remember thinking “huh – shaved pubes, hello” and carrying on. I do think it tends to be a generational expectation. My niece assures me that shaving your vag is simply expected amongst 20-somethings, much like shaving your legs before sex. It’s just regular, required grooming. The first shaved guy I encountered was 28, the next 29.

Now, I’ve also dealt with some serious man-bush that could have used a little weed whacking, actually. For some reason this seems to be completely fine for men. I have had guys warn me or apologize because they are “pretty hairy” but they usually are referring to their back & body hair, not their pubes, specifically. Yet having a naked clam seems to be an almost an expectation. Which I guess is what bugs me. I am happy to keep things short & sweet down there, but I don’t like to shave because it makes me break out. A vaginal rash is not attractive, I assure you. I mean, maybe I’ll do a reverse landing strip from time to time but again, this is a special treat for both of us, not an everyday thing. I hate feeling obligated to shave like I’m some sort of wooly mammoth that is long since extinct.

Don’t get me started on waxing or God forbid, the popular new “vagazzle” craze. I mean do we really need to have Lee press-on twat decor? Waxing has become so popular that the salons are popping up all over the place like little nail shops. Do people really go in every couple of weeks for a wax and a little bedazzling of their woo-woo? Come on, all I want is a fill!

I guess my bottom (heh) line is this: lay off the expectation. If you are lucky enough to get there, you should be delighted just to enjoy the poon – with or without the pubes.

As someone recently tweeted: “If you can’t handle me hairy, you don’t deserve me shaved.” I guess that sums up my general position in about 530 fewer characters than this blog entry!

12
Apr
13

dick pics – I don’t get it!

By risquedivorcee Leave a Comment
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Exhibitionists have been around since long before the cell phone and webcam. Even before trench-coats became the accepted symbol of a dirty guy who wanted to show you his winkie, men liked to…show you!

I mean, boners are kind of nifty, right? Just imagine if you could go into the $1 section at Target and buy a neat little toy the size of an egg-full of silly putty. After you play with that squishy little blob for awhile, it suddenly increases in size & girth until it grows to resemble a decent-size flashlight, a Monster energy drink or, if you’re lucky – a can of Pringles!  Wow! Cool toy!  Then it will even squirt stuff! Woot! Everyone would love it! Continuing the metaphor, soon everyone would have this nifty doo-dad and, as happens,  the novelty would wear off. You’d still love to play with it, but everyone’s seen it – nobody is impressed when you say “hey! Check this out! Look what I can do!”

This is pretty much how I feel about dick pics. I mean, we’ve all seen the trick already, guys! I’m not saying that you are not all uniquely special, skilled & talented, but that’s not what a photo of your meat stick shows me. You aren’t showing me your wit, kindness, humor, intelligence, stamina, social consciousness, skills at cunnilingus…you’re showing me your cock. It may truly be inspirational, but it’s really not that different from the hundreds that I have seen before. (That’s counting porn too – I’m not that big of a slut!)

Women aren’t nearly as visually stimulated as men either. But men don’t seem to care. I think that they are actually visually stimulated by themselves and their nifty “boy toy” and they love to show it off! My filthy Twitter pal, @The_Marcness recently tweeted: “Beating off to a video of you rubbing one out is like some sort of weird, perverted inception” – speaking on behalf of many men who, in my experience, like to watch themselves.

Technology has made it possible and even easy for us to share photos with each other effortlessly. Exhibitionists and voyeurs alike have found a socially acceptable outlet for watching and showing their naughty bits.  Still, there remain those “raincoat flashers” out there who just seem to get off on the thrill of the shock. It is as if they enjoy seeing what kind of reaction they can generate by sending out unsolicited dick pics and videos.

I don’t understand this. Particularly in some of the cases that I have personally experienced. We message each other through a dating site, get to know each other a little bit as human beings. Maybe we flirt or are suggestive with one another, okay. We get comfortable enough to exchange phone numbers and plan to meet up. You don’t know me yet, but if we meet and there’s chemistry, odds are that I will have sex with you. Real sex. With tongues, mouths, hands, fingers, boobs…an actual vagina. So why sour your chances by prematurely whipping out the peen?

To be clear: I’m not talking about when texting turns dirty and turns to sexting. I’m not talking about when we’re seeing each other and you send me a “thinking of you” photo. That’s different. I’m talking about the guy that wakes me up at 7am with a picture of him stroking it. Or who sends a MMS message to me and 10 others on Easter Sunday when I’m at dinner with my family.

Yeah, that guy – again! Or rather, still. This guy that I haven’t met has awakened me three times during my vacation this week by sending me nude pics of himself. This is the guy that texted at 6:21am and when I asked for no texts before 9am or after 12am got offended and said I should find someone else. Okay, fine, bye. But wait – he keeps sending me nude pics and video! All but one have been before 9am, of course – including a cock pic that woke me today. So far I have simply ignored him. I find this usually works best. Though I was sorely tempted to text back “oh, wow – it must be cold there” when his hand-held wiener pic arrived on my phone this morning. However, I have learned not to feed the trolls.

I know, I should start shutting my ringer off, but a lifetime of being the responsible friend/mom/aunt that you can call 24/7 if you need me makes me hesitant to do that. Plus I always forget to turn it off or turn it back on. Plus – would the alarm on my phone still work? Points to ponder if I don’t want to be pondering penis points in the wee-wee hours of the morning! Meanwhile, I will learn how to block numbers on my cell, but that only works if they continue to contact you from the same number. Some of these guys are crafty. I have had at least four men disable their POF accounts and then message me anew from a different account.

I haven’t even covered the men who seem to prefer having an online spank-buddy to video chat with rather than meet in person. I guess virtual sex is the safest sex possible, but I don’t understand that either!

And I think “just your tits…” has replaced the lie that used to be “just the tip!”

Okay, I’m tweeting that!

11
Apr
13

mr. right…now…

By risquedivorcee 1 Comment
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I don’t know where to go from here. I just wrote a rather serious bit about religion and LGBTQ and hate to continue in a melancholy direction. I feel like the next chronological place to go is with the guy that I mentioned as my “fuck buddy” in a recent blog. The one that said I think like a man when it comes to relationships. I’m afraid that one might wind up being somewhat serious as well.

As a writer I have always been the type to “mentally outline” before I put pen to paper (yes, I am that old!) When I was being taught how to write a research paper in school I was always rather affronted that we had to turn in rough drafts, outlines, note cards, etc. Now that most of us write on computers and can cut & paste and edit on the fly, these steps in “writing properly” seem even more nonsensical to me. With blogging, I find that I come up with topics that I want to cover and do just a topic list and then spend some time organizing my thoughts internally – mentally. Which is what I’ve been doing today on the subject of “that guy” – and it’s managed to make me somewhat sad.

I talked about the power of “closure” in relationships last week (read the comments after the “way back machine” blog – how awesome is that?)  It can really feel good when you are able to have an exchange that helps you achieve some sort of peace and prospective. This is especially true at the end of relationships – particularly meaningful ones. I didn’t really have that with this guy and it’s…dissatisfying.

I don’t think that I feel hurt, exactly. I think that we had run our course and that our end was imminent, but it could have gone differently.

And guess what? I’m telling it backwards. Let’s start at the beginning. (Bet you wish I used those stupid outlines right about now, aren’t you?)

Last summer was tough. Ending a marriage and redefining a 25-year relationship was intense. Add kids, money and a house full of stuff that we had to divvy up? The entire summer was stressful, painful and despite our best efforts, often filled with fights, drama and heartache. I’m proud of how we have come through it and have found a friendship on the other side, but late July/early August was the worst of it.

I want to give you the context surrounding me meeting S46. I had had sex one time in the past nine months. If you have read more than two of my blog entries you know that was a major problem for me! I had just decided it was time to start dating, had put my profile up on POF and had met or talked to a few men, but not many. I had received my first “cougar” offer from the 23-year-old tatted guy but mostly I was…learning to be alone. I was consciously doing things that I wanted to do for me and forcing myself to get out of the house from time to time.

One evening I went to the casino. It was a pretty busy night and there were lots of social players there. Also, I was winning. I had been playing a Three Kings slot then moved to another machine, hit something big and went to cash out and “fold some bills” as I like to call it. That’s when I put some money back in my wallet after winning a bit and then go back and play some more. When I came back, this guy that had been playing a few machines down from me was at the machine that I had left and I took the slot next to him. Then he started a winning streak and hit a big bonus. At some point – we started teasing each other a little bit about the fact that he had taken over “my machine” and we continued chatting for the next several hours. We move around to different machines together – making sure that there are two free together so we can keep talking.

Then conversation turned to Vegas – I had a trip coming up in a few months, he was thinking of going…are we flirting now…hmmm…I start looking at him as a man rather than just a guy I’m chatting with. He’s geeky in an “old guy” sort of way not a hipster kind. He’s wearing business clothes – charcoal dress pants, button down shirt. He’s bald with a little mustache. Not really my type, but I’m enjoying our interaction and I’m starting to pick up a little…chemistry…? In talking about where to stay in Vegas he says he stays at a friend’s condo. Then he pointedly says “if it’s not obvious why I stay at my friend’s place it’s because I’m married.” He then goes on to tell me that he asked his wife for a divorce and she suggested they should just have an open marriage so that’s what they have now. Okay, but he seems pretty bitter or at least droll about it.

Chat continues, I reveal that I am recently separated, he asks if I’m getting out much & I tell him about the “cougar encounter” with the 23-year-old earlier in the week. He says “yeah, well, I can beat that – my 52-year-old wife is out fucking her 30-year-old boyfriend.” Without missing a beat, I say “good for her. At least she didn’t have him move in with you.” This got his full attention and we talked about the pros, cons & stupidities of open marriage & poly relationships.

I’m not going to go too far into that as far as my personal history is concerned, but it is something that my ex & I tried to do during the last several years of our marriage. I think that the model of multiple relationships can really work and is something that I am basically living right now, but we did it wrong. It’s impossible to support secondary relationships when your primary is disintegrating and untended. Anyway, S46 led me to believe that he was in an open, poly marriage.

As winnings were dwindling and the evening wore on, he finally stood up and asked if I liked sushi. I answered that I did and he did a little head gesture towards the new, fancy sushi joint at the casino and indicated that I should join him. I was like “um, are you asking if I would like to have sushi right now with you? Use your words.” This pretty much set forth our communication style for the next 4 months or so.

We had a very nice dinner with good conversation. I decided that he was sort of cute after all – taller than I’d realized, nice build under the business attire, dimples, good smile, nice eyes. And hey, I was on my first date in months, right? During dinner we exchanged numbers and talked about getting together again – maybe as casino buddies.

At that point I wasn’t sure if this was a lonely married guy who was looking for someone to hang out with or what exactly, but it didn’t matter too much to me. I was happy to make new friends, but I really didn’t expect to hear from him again.

We parted ways with a handshake of all things. I really pegged him as a married guy who was uncomfortable with how far he had taken his flirtation with me. Again, I didn’t expect to hear from him again and I didn’t hear from him for a full month after that first day.

I feel like this should be the end of this blog entry. It’s already pretty long and It’s not my favorite in terms of humor or thrill factor, honestly.

I promise this one gets better…for awhile…

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