Posts Tagged ‘BBW

13
Oct
14

Have you ever dreamed of blogging?

By risquedivorcee 2 Comments
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I know. The title makes it sound like an ad in the back of a travel magazine! “Have you ever dreamed of living in Alaska?! There has never been a better time!”  Yeah. Not that. I dreamed about my blog for the first time.

I dreamed about my blog? “Gee, Risqué Rivorcée, you used to write about fun stuff like dating and sex and boys. Now you’re just so lame!”

Hold up, hold up! I dreamed that I was having naked-time with an ex and discovered that he had tattooed my name on his body. I was so shocked and conflicted by this that in my dream I was already imagining and organizing how I would formulate the tale into a blog post. I even had determined how I would change my name in the blog to make the story still work and protect my privacy. My plan was so real that when I woke it actually took me a few minutes to change the “writing plan” that I’d developed in my sleep. At first I was literally going to write the story like it had actually happened – not like a dream. As the haze of subconsciousness faded into consciousness, however, I realized that I always tell you guys the truth. Duh.

The dream was just so real that the plan to blog about it seemed like the truth until I fully woke.

The guy in the dream doesn’t exist. To say that he isn’t my type would be an understatement. He was young (early 20s?) very fit and extremely active. I know that women joke about fantasizing about hot, young hard-bodies but I swear that I don’t. I have actually written a number of posts about my general discomfort concerning men that are “too young” or “too hot” being interested in me. In several cases I have thought “what’s the catch?” It’s an interesting reflection on society, fat-shaming and my own insecurity that I have a general distrust of sexy young men that find me attractive. Admittedly, it’s the “young” part that I struggle with as much as the “hot” part. Generally, I tend to be attracted to men who are closer to my own age and who have a little bit of meat on their bones.

No that I haven’t had some one-time experiences with varying degrees of young, hot & skinny fellas, but for a long-term relationship I have to feel comfortable in sweats, no make-up & no bra, you know? Interestingly, the “dream guy” was an ex that I had lived with. In the dream, he had been traveling around the world having adventures (mountain climbing, hang-gliding, exploring the Outback,) and was back in town.  He had let himself in to my apartment with his key in order to shower/rest and had crawled into my bohemian hippy futon bed with me, naked. He was spooning me and exploring my body a bit when I woke (in the dream) and realized it was him and had a sort of friendly “what the hell are you doing here” exchange. He was clearly someone that I cared for and felt affection for, but who was an ex and it was long over between us. There was no sex, but there was definitely nudity. We seemed to be quite comfortable walking around naked.

Interestingly, not only was I nude in my dream, I was also fat. I mean, I am fat, but the images of myself that my subconscious provides in dreams are often either hazy or of me with a thinner body. In this dream, I was my very full-figured, saggy self with all the lumps, bumps and stretch marks. I was comfortable with it. So was the guy. We had clearly known each others bodies at some time in the past.

In his nudity, I noticed that he had added to a developing tattoo sleeve of colorful countries and continents that he had visited. The various map representations also had different bits of memories, pictures, quotes, images or city names marking his experiences. In the dream, I was shocked to see my name standing out in relief on Australia. He explained that there was a region there that was called the same as my first name and that he spent several weeks there and thought of me often which is why he had “HI VICTORIA” (that’s a place, right? Not my real name – duh,) tattooed across the region in big block letters. He said that every time he heard the name of the region he was in that he thought about me and smiled and would look up at the sky and say hi.

I told him that he was crazy to have put some woman’s name on his body. I teased that he must not have heard the rule that you aren’t ever supposed to get a tattoo of someone’s name and he said “well, I didn’t get your name in a heart or anything stupid, I put your name in here with all my other beautiful memories that I want to celebrate and remember.” In the dream, I was gobsmacked by this revelation and couldn’t wait to blog about this sweet gesture and even sweeter turn of a phrase. It was so real that I had a really hard time coming fully aware of the fact that it was a dream.

Of course, it may have felt particularly real because I really did have a sexy man wrapped around me & holding me during the dream. My guy also shared some pretty deep and heart-squishing words about me last night, so perhaps that’s where the inspiration came from!

24
Oct
13

‘Brad Pitt’ got fat

By risquedivorcee 2 Comments
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I caught you up on the return of Pirate Bear, so it’s only fair to catch you up on the “return” of “Brad Pitt” after I ran into him Tuesday night. Saying that we “dated” would be an overstatement, but we had fun hanging out for awhile and I really liked him, so it was good to see him alive – even if I failed to recognize him at first. He’s packed on about 20 pounds since I last saw him in May, the golden highlights he’d picked up in Afghanistan are gone from his hair – now several inches longer – which puts it well past his shoulders, and instead of a tidy goatee, he’s now wearing a full beard.

When we met in February, he caught my eye because he was my type – cute, scruffy and casually sexy. That first day, he was wearing jeans & a hockey jersey and though we flirted a bit, I figured he was too young and pretty for me. When he gave me his number and expressed clear interest with his subsequent texts, I responded positively and we started a brief affair.

The “Young Brad Pitt” nickname came from conversation with my girlfriends. He was 29 when we hooked up and other than the fact that he has brown eyes, the first time he showed up at my door he looked like a 1994 version of Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall. By the time I last saw him five months ago, he was looking like the scruffier Brad at the end of the movie – which is still pretty yummy. At that time, we were discussing the notion of moving our “relationship” from “occasional FWB/fuck buddy” to “dating” but he was really inconsistent. Sometimes we would text all night. When we were together he was attentive, complimentary, sweet and thoughtful. When we were apart, he sometimes would just drop out of the middle of a conversation and disappear. We had planned our first public outing with friends – a real date – and he essentially stood me up. He later told me that he’d been experiencing really bad panic attacks and PTSD as well as depression. I appreciated what seemed like honesty, but it didn’t change the fact that soon after he went full hermit and disappeared for nearly five months – until a few weeks ago.

The text progression on my phone shows my last text from him on May 11th, followed by a 2am text on October 9th asking how I’ve been and asking if I was at his neighborhood bar. I assumed that this was merely a closing time booty call query and was somewhat bemused. I considered not responding at all, but eventually did the following afternoon, saying that I’d been sleeping like a baby at 2am and that my formerly regular Tuesday hang-out had become pretty busy on those nights and I don’t go as often. He didn’t respond.

Interestingly, I had received a report from a girlfriend that he had been there a few weeks prior on a Tuesday night when I was off at a different place with my boyfriend. At the time I wondered if “Brad Pitt” had been looking for me. I also joked with her: “Did he get fat?! Tell me he got fat!” Well, he did. To the extent that this week, when I was out on the patio at said bar, talking to my same friend and she stopped, stared behind me and said “I thought that was D” I said “no, that’s T’s friend, B.” The person walking in the door looked familiar, but I didn’t recognize him as the guy that I’d been fucking for three months this past spring.

He was decked out like the Kevin Smith character, Silent Bob – complete with trench coat, beard, long hair and backwards Mooby hat from Dogma. I heard a couple of guys shout “hey, Silent Bob! What’s up!” A few minutes later, my friend had gone home and he walked out onto the patio, greeted some people, looked straight at me and said “hey, how you doing?” Even then, I still thought he was the other guy…for a minute. That’s how different he looked! I even went back into the bar for a second drink without speaking further to him – but as I passed and heard his voice I felt like an idiot! I came back out a few minutes later and sought him out – I mean, I didn’t want it to seem like I was pretending to ignore him or playing games. He said “hey, you never texted me back the other day!” I said that I had, then showed him my phone with the text. He then apologized, saying that his phone had been acting weird and texts were really slow – he said he hadn’t sent the text at 2am, but that he had sent a bunch of texts to his “karaoke buddies” earlier in the evening to see if anyone was going out.

We chatted for quite awhile and he acknowledged that his PTSD and panic attacks had been really bad and he was trying to force himself to go out. Several times he mentioned trying to be healthier, wanting to lose 30 pounds and how he’d been riding his bike and working out. Okay, duly noted. We talked about his 30th birthday last month, how that really sucked for him and we casually chatted about movies, music and such neutral topics. When he asked what I’ve been up to I talked about work, my summer and the fact that I’m seeing someone pretty seriously – but that it’s a poly relationship. We briefly talked about that and it was interesting to gauge his reaction. Part of me wanted to know if he would still be interested in seeing me if I was seeing someone else. The fact that he made some noises about getting together again and that we exchanged some more texts yesterday seems to indicate a strong…maybe…

The rest of the maybe is with me. I’m so over the moon with my current guy that I’m struggling with the notion of being poly at all. I haven’t been dating for awhile and I took my OKCupid profile down – at least for now. I haven’t really been sexually aroused by another man since Whimsy & I got serious. I did make out with a new guy but then I called it off before it went further. It hadn’t felt hot or sexy – it felt awkward.

“Silent Brad” could be a different matter. I like him, we’re very compatible in bed, he has his own place and he’s not looking for a relationship. I know he can curl my toes and I’m attracted to him – because let’s face it, Kevin Smith is pretty hot too, right?

There’s a big part of me that just wants to be monogamous with Whimsy to see if we could be successful at that. I think we could be, but there’s another part of me that rebels at the thought of being one of his “harem” and waiting to see if he’s willing to take a risk with me. We’re really good where we are, but it feels somewhat weird that he is seeing other people while I am not. I’m not sure that this inequity is reason enough for me to date, but it’s something that feels out of alignment.

Meanwhile, my options are open as long as my relationship is.

05
Apr
13

set the way, way, way back machine…

By risquedivorcee 2 Comments
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Hiya kids – your naughty Auntie was working on a second post last night, but got an unexpected call from R30 who was feeling like he was ready to come off from injured reserve. He may be feeling differently this morning though! Lord knows I may never walk again and I just slept for almost 9 hours straight. I also cut my “no intercourse for a week” restriction short by about 12 hours, but I was finally feeling up to it and it had been 10 days since I’d had any and almost a month since I’d had R30 & his fantastic combination of tongue, adoration, stamina and cock. Four times almost killed me, but the man showed up with flowers and non-latex condoms, so you have to love that. Also, he still says thank you. 🙂 Now, back to my flashback Friday post…

I want to share something rather sweet that happened last week, but in order to give you the big picture I have to tell you something that will be a little bit bitchy. Furthermore, the person that I am writing about is a follower. Yep. That’s a new one for me too. I hope that if and when he reads this he will take it with the sense of humor with which it was intended.

So…let’s go waaaaayyyy back…to 1986. There was this bad boy…and I liked him a lot. But I was still kind of a good girl. It was the age-old tale of me trying to tame the bad-boy and not understanding why he didn’t love me enough to mold to my shitty, naive, young idea of what a perfect boyfriend would be. We kissed, we “went together”, we talked on the phone, we hung out but…that’s all. And he broke up with me right before junior prom. To his credit, he was very sweet about it and I had seen it coming for a long time. He was decent enough to suggest that we could still go to prom together since we had planned to, so we did, as friends. I don’t remember very much of the prom itself, but lots of photos show that we looked hot and I remember having fun and going to at least two after-parties that I was happy to be part of. I believe that wine coolers came into play at the second party and knowing us at the time, pot probably did too. He was a lovely escort and a gentleman, but  around five am he took me home and fucked me on the floor in my living room. He has the distinction of being the second person I ever had sex with and the first person to ever come on my stomach. But he was 16 and it can’t have been more than 5 strokes and it certainly wasn’t two minutes.

So it doesn’t count.

Because, based on this experience – which, until recently, I counted as my worst, sexually – I came up with a rule: “If it’s less than two minutes you don’t have to count it.” Over the years, this has been amended to “unless you get pregnant.” Seriously, this is something that I have shared with my niece and many girlfriends forever. “He was miserable in the sack.” “Oh? Well, you know the rule – if it lasts less than 2 minutes you don’t have to count it!” 🙂

Let’s be fair – the guy was 16 and I was smokin’ hot. At least he managed to get it in unlike B36, and managed to have the control to pull out – which was pretty responsible. Leastwise it was more responsible than I was at the time – I wasn’t using any form of birth control and was both clueless and very lucky! (Also, not nearly as slutty as I am now!) Also, I must add a side note of second-hand credit to the guy – a few years later one of my friends apparently had a brief affair with him when he was in his 20’s and counts it as the best sex she’s ever had. I know we have all improved since we were fumbling, clueless kids. God knows I didn’t have any idea how to suck a dick until years after my junior prom. Still, for me, it was the typical tale of the prom date who pulls out and leaves and pretty much never speaks to you again. Oh, there was awkward chatting at that one reunion 20 years later, but seriously, we didn’t talk again until Facebook.

Even with Facebook, we didn’t really catch up or have an actual conversation until last week when I messaged him about an ignorant anti-gay marriage post that someone had put on his wall. As it happened, he was online and a chat ensued. Credit to us being confident, comfortable grown-ass adults instead of insecure, clueless teens – it was really pleasant and fun. We discussed social issues and our shared feelings about equality and LGBT rights, we talked about kids – he said I was too cute to have adult children. Nice. We talked about marriage – challenges, successes and my somewhat recent single status. I shared how terrified I had been to split from my ex – who I love dearly & who will always be a part of my life and family – but how much better we are apart. I shared how scared I was to start dating again after 25 years as a BBW and how I was shocked to find that I was not only successful, that I was popular. To which he responded: “Of course you are popular. Good looking, intelligent, articulate the whole package.”

Holy shit. I’m a middle-aged woman who doesn’t need a man to validate me, but can I just say? My 42-year-old self and my 16-year-old self shared a little fist bump in that moment. Funny thing, the human psyche. I can barely remember dating this guy, but I clearly remember feeling “not good enough” when he dropped me and man, those insecurities hang on! I felt lighter after that – like I’d released some ages-old hurt that I had been hanging on to for 26 years. Is that weird? I dunno. Maybe it was just some sort of closure that we’d never had. Huh. It was certainly nice engaging in a funny conversation and remember this person that I once knew and liked. So much so, that I shared this blog with him and received a nice message about how much he enjoys it.

So here ya go, hun. You’ve been featured. I hope I’m not over-estimating your good humor. <—- That’s the friendly, real me line. The naughty Risqué Divorcée line goes like this: “so, do you cheat on your wife as much as you did on me back in the day?” 😉

04
Apr
13

one month – reflections & my first black guy…

By risquedivorcee 2 Comments
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Hey, thanks for reading, for following, for sharing. I really hope that you enjoy my stories. Sometimes it feels like I am just masturbating words here, but I do enjoy it. (The writing, that is. Oh, okay – I enjoy masturbating too, but let’s stay on topic!!) I decided to get on Twitter to cross-promote my blog and I don’t think I gained any blog followers as a result, but I found Twitter to be a really cool and interesting place. It’s sort of like your favorite bar where you most raunchy and funny friends hang out all the time and blow each other shit & say all sort of crude stuff. I love it! I feel like I fit right in but it’s also a bit cliquey and I find myself feeling somewhat dismayed when people don’t like what I tweet. I hate looking to others for validation – even though I do work hard to make people laugh – even in real life. I don’t have to prove anything to anyone here though, really. Yes, I write for humor and with an audience in mind, but this is my place. Of course, feel free to follow me on Twitter @risquedivorcee if you feel so inclined. I’ve been there about two weeks and have been blogging here for exactly one month today. Happy one month anniversary!

In honor of the occasion, I will share the story of my first black guy. The guy? Meh. The sex? Oh maaaaannnnn! Now, don’t get me wrong – I’ve seen and had some lovely big, white cocks too and I’m no “sizeist” – I’ll entertain a smaller cock. Easier to deep-throat, don’t give you a cramp in the jaw, might consider for ass play…but I do enjoy a nice, big cock. This one was probably the longest I’ve ever dealt with and had a decent amount of girth as well. Too bad it was attached to an ass.

N43 was someone that I chatted with for a pretty long time before meeting. We probably messaged on and off for three weeks before we finally managed to meet for a drink. We chatted about work-related stuff, kids, life – it wasn’t very sexual, but it was flirty. I was still in my “need dick” phase after having been disappointed by the teddy bear who didn’t quite make it in. I had other interests that were also engaging, but I was sort of excited by the prospect of getting my first taste of black cock.

Eventually we met at a pub – it was a bit too loud to talk and he was dressed a little too “casually” for a first meeting I thought. He seemed to not have made very much of an effort to pull himself together for me. We had some drinks and talked and he had a really annoying habit of saying “hah?” when he couldn’t hear me or didn’t understand me…which was often. He was cute enough, smelled good, had a great smile and lovely dimples, but mostly the conversation was dead in the water and I was not into it. When we went out to the parking lot, he got a little more physical with me – putting his hands on my hips, flirting. Eventually, the discussion turned to “so, what should we do now?” and “when do you have to work tomorrow?” Those are both cues for “want to fuck?” So I followed him home. (Yes, I let my friend know where I was going!) On the way, we stopped at a gas station because he needed to get something. I assumed that it was condoms. He came out with a bag in hand and we proceeded to his place.

At his apartment, he got the bag out and come to find out, it was a 40 oz. beer he had bought – for himself. He offered me no refreshment. He turned on the TV. We sat on the couch. I think Full House was on. What the hell? I don’t want to watch TV. I want you to seduce me and touch me and I want to ride your cock. It was so peculiar. I wonder if he thought he had to “ease” me into sex? If so, maybe he might have considered offering me a drink too, huh?

So strange was the scene that I finally asked if we could turn the TV off and maybe put on some music instead. He did so and also dimmed the lights because I didn’t really need all his neighbors seeing us on the couch – he had the shades open too. Oh, also – on the couch. I was never invited to a bedroom. Hmmmm. He was very laid back as things got going – he put his arm around me and we kissed a little bit. That was lovely – he had a great mouth which sadly did nothing more than kiss me above the waist, but the sex turned out to be really good. Also, he had a great body. Lithe and sinewy without being too bony or skinny. Yum. Oddly, we had barely been making out for a few minutes when I realized that he had his dick out of his pants. I mean, he hasn’t even made it to second base and he’s rounding home in his hand? Really? Weird.

I was anxious to get hold of his member, but I also wanted to make sure that I got to fuck it and not just suck it! So I basically whispered exactly that to him. His response? “Hah?” Ugh! I finally stopped being cute & cuddly, lifted my head off from him and said “I would like to suck your cock, but I want to make sure that I still get to fuck you.” BOOM! Read between the lines! Sheesh. Turns out, it wasn’t a problem. He had a good 10″ or so when fully erect. Not a ton of girth, but decent. With a slight curve toward his belly. Very, very nice. I gave him a little oral attention, but I was mostly interested in having him inside me, so I got out a condom because, no surprise, he hadn’t produced any when he went and got a towel to put on the sofa. We got the condom on his lovely, lovely dick and he soon slid into me from behind. Thank you, lord. So very nice. Exactly, exactly what I needed. And it was given to me three times! Three times! Very unexpected from a 43-year-old man. I would think that we were done and then he would just start right back up again. The second time the condom broke which really sucked. I think it simply couldn’t handle the mass plus fluid. Damn. Such a nice one.

After the sex, I was cleaning up and getting dressed as it was after 3am and I was about to do my very first walk of shame. 🙂 He then went into the kitchen and started cooking bratwurst. While still naked. He was a sight to behold walking around the kitchen with his beautiful ass and huge cock – even when flaccid. He explained that he was really hungry because he had skipped dinner to meet me. Well jeez, we met at a restaurant, guy. It was just a little strange still, but we did seem to be communicating better once we had fucked the sexual tension out of the room. Eventually, he walked me to the door (he had put on athletic pants, but that’s all) and kissed the back of my neck (swoon!) asking when he could see me again. I felt butterflies in my tummy and twat and said we would talk soon.

We arranged to have him come over on Sunday to watch football and that I would cook. It was pretty loose in that I told him to come over for the afternoon games, but I did cook and sent him directions and…he didn’t show or respond to texts. Hi, I’m offering you a day of food, football & sex and you don’t show? What man does that? Honestly, I think one with a girlfriend. I finally heard from him around 8pm. He texted apologies and said he had gone to church in the morning and wound up hanging out with his family. Okay, fine. I understand that stuff happens, but you do have a mobile cellular device, right? I said as much and he said I was right, he apologized and asked if I could forgive him. Okay, you get one mulligan because the sex was really fucking excellent. Come over tomorrow for Monday Night Football & leftovers. He even called me to re-send directions and we talked on the phone. Though I did question why he had deleted my text with my address and directions. What was up with that?  I told him that I was going to the store to get some drinks and asked if there was anything that he wanted. He purred “not yet.” Damn.

I reheated all the food and laid it out. I had the game recording on my DVR and I waited…and waited…

Finally I sent a text asking if he was lost, saying I was hungry and that it had to be nearly halftime. He responded with “oh, are you waiting on me, hun?” Yes. As discussed. Jeez. He told me not to wait and that he was finishing some stuff up at his place – which is like 35 minutes away anyway. I was livid. I said I was starting the game and eating. The next day, when he sent me a text, I said that I didn’t want to see him anymore because he was disrespectful of my time. He said he didn’t come because I seemed “cranky” – which I was after he’d stood me up the second time! Jeez! I told him to lose my number. Instead, he sent me “Happy Friday!” texts and “how are you” messages about three times a week for about six weeks. Often at 6-9am. Very passive-aggressive. I had at least learned not to respond – eventually they stopped. His POF account disappeared around the time that he stood me up the second time too. I have always imagined that he had a wife or girlfriend who found out about his extracurriculars and who made it difficult to get out to meet.

A few weeks ago, I noticed that he was on POF again with a new & different profile. I rolled my eyes a little bit and moved on. A couple of days later I got a message from him saying: “Hey you, how are you doing?”

Dangit – I’m doing a lot better than I was 7 months ago. If I didn’t think that there was something really sketchy and dishonest about you I would probably be good with giving you another tumble. Really. I’m not the kind of gal that you need to lie to. I can deal with wives, girlfriends, other women, other interests and responsibilities, etc. I don’t need the bullshit. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I would do a much better job of managing this guy now than I didn’t do back then! Hmmm, I guess it’s an option to keep open!

I will try to “double up” and post again tonight, my loves!

25
Mar
13

miss me?

By risquedivorcee 1 Comment
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I know I’m remiss in blogging. I warned you that you would be cast aside on the weekends like children required to have a visit with their non-custodial parent. “GO SEE DADDY! Mommy needs to have some GROWNUP TIME!”

My weekend was jam-packed from the time I got out of work until about 12:30 this morning. In fact, it was busy beginning on Thursday! Thursday I was supposed to meet a new guy (R41) for coffee. I was rushing around trying to pull myself together for a good first impression and received a message from him saying that he had just awakened and could we move coffee. I immediately responded and asked “move it to later or another day?” Now, this message was sent 13 minutes before we were supposed to meet and he took another 20 minutes to respond to my question, so I was rather pissed. However, since, he’s a fireman and eventually apologized profusely, I agreed to meet him again after giving him a little bit of shit. I suggested that perhaps he might consider leading with the apology and responding promptly next time, but warned there would be no next time because I only offer one mulligan. We exchanged numbers and agreed to same time & place on Friday. I was running late on Friday, but also had a little “red flag” going off that he was going to stand me up again. I don’t know why. I hadn’t heard from him with an “on my way – looking forward to seeing you” text or anything either. I was just feeling that I was wasting eyeliner as I was getting ready, you know? I sent a text as I was leaving that said I was running about 5 minutes late. By the time I parked, it was 6 minutes after the appointed meeting time and I had not heard from him at all, nor was he in the coffee shop. There was one similarly built fella getting coffee that I knew wasn’t him, but I wished was. I briefly considered going up to him and saying “Hi, are you R?” just to see what would happen. 🙂 After 11 minutes had passed from our appointed meeting time, I sent another text saying “you = not not here & not responding. Am I reading it wrong?” A couple of minutes later he responded with “Who’s this??” and I said “Really? Okay, leaving.”

I had already left the coffee shop and it was 20 minutes after our meeting was supposed to happen when I received this flurry of texts:

Oh shit….I’m sorry!

 

I didn’t save your #

 

I got hung up at work on an emergency

 

I could almost be understanding about the work emergency. Almost. If not for the fact that it happened the day before, he didn’t communicate well either time and oh yeah, who the hell doesn’t save the phone number/contact of someone that they are interested in? People who are too busy to date or lying about their single status. Either way? Just go ahead and lose my number again, okay?

Friday lunch with an ex lover & good friend was nice – and I was looking all cute after being stood up earlier, so that doesn’t hurt! I outed this blog to him with mixed feelings, but he seemed pretty engrossed in the front page at least. While at lunch, I got a text from the guy that I was going out with on Friday night. This was a planned sleepover with the “not-so-hot-in-the-sack” guy. He’s Indian and I was having Indian for lunch, so I told him that I also planned to have Indian later. I realize that I have not ever “identified” him in previous posts, but he’s K36 and when I told him we could be fuck buddies he said “rather friends with benefits because friends do things together.” That was rather nice and sweet. Then the sex was meh, but I was giving him another shot. Also, while in bed last time he said that he didn’t want to be my boyfriend, he just wanted me one or two nights a week. Uh, honey – that’s called a boyfriend! Especially if you text me the other 5 or 6 days a week! Lord, I may need to manage this one.

Friday night, I was already tired and offered K36 the option of going out as planned or staying in and ordering a pizza. We agreed not to set a “fuck buddy precedent” and drove into Chinatown for dinner. It was pleasant and he’s really good at heating me up with a slight touch, kiss or sweet comment. As I said a few entries ago, I gave this guy a 9 in foreplay and a 3 in fucking. This time, it was probably an 8 and a 4 – which means he’s still a six. Again, he gets me soaking, dripping, puddle on the bed wet but can’t manage to actually sock it to me. He’s tentative like he’s trying not to cum every time. We managed three times in about 20 hours – the third being a BJ wherein I realized that this guy comes about 1/4 teaspoon. It’s like nothing. Very weird.

I also felt sort of like telling K36 to get out. I mean, is it rude to say “hey, thanks for the mediocre sex – now could you leave so I can either fuck myself with a dildo or call another guy over to finish me off?” I guess it is, yeah. But I feel like this guy is sort of like a fluffer – he’s great at getting me ready to go, but he’s not good at the main feature. Again, he gets tons of credit for his improved finger and tongue work and a solid A for effort!

Saturday I went out with some friends to dinner and a gay variety show. It was a blast. Seriously! Such a friendly crowd too – lots of love going around! After, I went with a different friend to a hip gay bar that was far too hip for me. Seriously. It was the first time in my life that I actually waited in line to get into a cool club just for the club – not for a concert or something. Then, just like in the movies, the doorman held his hand up at me and said “I’m stopping the line here.” I kid you not. Suddenly I’m the old, fat, straight, uncool kid. Thank God for fucking awesome, beautiful, popular, gay friends who can turn around and say “she’s with me” and suddenly I’m in! Of course it’s still way too fucking cool for me, but it was fun anyway & we wound up hanging out with some friendly and funny people. They had some fish-bowls full of condoms and I was dying to grab some, but decided to play it cool instead. Man, I really need to restock my supply!

Sunday I performed in a show then took my kids and ex out for birthday dinner for my son. I was getting texts from both R30 and K36 but had to tell them to cool it because I was hanging out with my kids. R30 was all about how beautiful I am and how he wants to be inside me. Oh man, I needed that after K36 left the other day! Late in the evening, when I was alone, we engaged in traditional phone sex – the kind where to talk voice rather than just exchanging pics and text. Of course, he still sent pics (hello, soup can dick) and also asked for them (no!) We made tentative plans for this evening which is cool.

Lately my “fuck buddies” or my “active roster” as I like to call them, have been closer to one-night stands than part of a regular rotation. I am glad to have at least two that will come back for more every couple of weeks. I’m still holding out hope for a couple of others too and have heard from both R41 and P29 this week, incidentally.

That’s all I have for now. If my tentative date for this evening falls through I will try to get back here and tell you a story or two, but I would much rather be making some new stories for you tonight. I’m really looking forward to that!

 

 

19
Mar
13

online dating pet peeve

By risquedivorcee 3 Comments
Categories: Uncategorized
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I was reading the profile of a bigger guy today. Some might call him fat. He certainly had a belly and an extra chin, but I like a teddy bear type generally. Then I read the part where he says what he’s looking for in a woman and he says “I am looking for a girl who is skinny and in shape. Just being honest with myself and with you about what I like.” So two things: don’t say you’re looking for a girl, creeper. And while I’m rolling in that particular part of this rant, don’t set your age guidelines from 18-37 if you are 45. Unless you’re Hugh freaking Heffner and are going to set someone up at “the mansion” then you need to get real, old man! 

But seriously, you hypocritical fat tub of goo: you are looking for someone “who will accept me for who I am” when who you are eats too many nachos and triple cheeseburgers and has the stones to say that curvy women need not apply? Piss up a rope.

Lastly, I am the queen of honest. I’ll give it to you as straight as anyone and even try to be kind about it, but I find that saying “I’m just being honest” is a lame way of expressing prejudice.

I prefer an independently wealthy, emotionally balanced underwear model who likes to eat pussy and has a thick, 10″ cock. Just being honest.

19
Mar
13

first meets and first meats

By risquedivorcee 1 Comment
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Man, chatting with three different men at the same time on POF does not help get a new blog post out! Facebook has also been hopping and drawing my attention away from my task at hand. Sometimes I feel so popular, other times so very solitary. I think this new world of social media contributes to that – we are always connected to others and yet can be very alone at the same time.

I added a static front page to my blog with my little “who is” bio. Tell me if it sucks. I just couldn’t figure out how to display my little cartoon image as a header without changing my theme. I swear I could get lost in trying to figure out the mechanics of page layout, but again, that takes me away from what I’m supposed to be doing here – writing!

This week has brought lots of texting, messaging & chatting with various men but not much 1:1 in-person interaction. I have a coffee date set for Thursday and a dinner, movie, sleepover date set for Friday though. Different fellas, naturally. My new “booty call” fuck buddy from the casino who wanted to be my regular sex slave? He put his hip out playing basketball on Sunday and is in agonizing pain. I’m thinking he’s going to be on injured reserve for awhile. How depressing! I like to have an active roster if I can. 😉 I told him that I was sorry that I broke him.

While I have a bit of a break from new adventures, I thought I would take the opportunity to get back to the progression of the online dating thing. After setting up my safety rules and evaluating my intent, I went back to chatting with and trying to meet folks. At first I was open to pretty much anyone that lived locally and asked. I quickly learned to be more selective and frankly, to be somewhat harsh. Online dating is very different than dating organically in the real world! The expectations are multiplied and inhibitions reduced!

I certainly talked to some scary, amusing, horrifying, interesting and colorful characters. More on that in another blog, for sure! Terrible pick-up lines and POF horror stories abound! But the first few meet-ups were pretty pathetic too. I blame myself to some extent. Being willing to give anyone a shot, staying too long, talking too long, seeming interested when you’re really not – these were my sins in the early days. I had to learn to say no and to get out before the guy starts picking out our wedding colors. God, do I sound like a man or what? But that’s sort of the problem. So many men see me as a nice, comfortable, middle-aged lady who probably makes a good pot-roast and would let them touch my boobies every so often.  While this may certainly be true, I also felt like there was a certain element of “oh, a fat girl won’t mind if I am a complete loser who makes no effort whatsoever.” There seemed to be guys that didn’t care whether we had anything in common or not, but who were just happy if I was willing to settle for them because they were willing to settle for me.

That sounds harsh, I guess, but since I was new to the scene, I didn’t realize that I didn’t have to settle at all – that I would eventually be inundated with offers from all sorts of men and that I would be able to be selective about who I wanted to spend my time with. Also, I hadn’t had sex in months and I will admit, I wasn’t feeling very picky. My mistake!

My first meet-ups were with C37, C41, H46, B36 & later N42.

C37 was cute enough in his pictures – somewhat sporty and a little bit of a bigger body type. I enjoyed talking to him on the phone, but he was a little bit um, “urban” I guess. I mean, one of those white boys who says “sup” and wears backwards caps, I guess? He would text from work and that was nice. We had a good dialogue and a little flirtation, but he was always talking about his medical stuff – headaches, blood pressure, blood sugar level, going to the doctor – and then he would mention that he was having another red bull and going out for a smoke. So maybe not the sharpest tool in the box, but I was looking for a tool in my box, so…I met him. In person he was much bigger than photos led me to believe. This is not a deal-breaker for me, but he was a bit pear-shaped and short. He also seemed to chain-smoke and talked with a perpetually “stuffy nose” sound that was a bit annoying. Turns out that was due to a major car accident he was in that contributes to the headaches as well. I wasn’t very attracted, but we shared a hug and made plans to get together again for dinner and football. I like to think that the person that I have evolved into since last summer would probably not have even given this guy my number, let alone set up a future meeting. C37 canceled our first planned evening due to some drama involving some female friend and her son that were in an abusive situation. Okay, that’s something that I can respect that also maybe puts up some red flags. Our second attempt was going to be dinner at his place and watching football afterwards.  What happened to my safety rules? Well, I had his name, address, phone number, place of employment, we’d met and I wanted to have sex and figured he would do! However, as I was on my way to his place and stuck in traffic, I called him to let him know that I would be later than expected. He then proceeded to do this moaning little bit about how if I would rather just cancel it was fine. He understood if I didn’t want to come over. I told him that wasn’t the situation, but his constant whining was beginning to get on my nerves, so I took the given opportunity to cancel and went with my gut – which said enough was enough with this guy! We chatted a few more times out of politeness in communicating the disinterest, but that was it for him.

C41 was probably my first “immediate friend zone” guy. He was short and trim and not at all my typical body type, but he was smart and very goofy. I like that a lot. We’d messaged a few times and one Friday when we were both online he asked what I was up to and I said I was thinking of hitting the casino or finding some karaoke. He said he was heading out to do karaoke and a quick meet-up happened. It was too loud to talk too much, but it was great karaoke and I credit him for introducing me to the place! We had fun but I think we defined “no chemistry” – which is actually okay too. I want to meet friends as well. I was more than a little bit put off by the fact that he had two very young children and had only been separated for two weeks! Yikes! Still, I heard from him again recently and we exchanged a few messages. I could see us being friends, but I don’t think either of us was particularly entranced by the other. Though I got my first “cougar” text on my drive home from meeting this guy. Most interesting story – for another blog entry!

H46 – I don’t even remember his real name. That’s horrible! I even checked my contacts. I can still see his profile on POF, but I can’t remember the name of my first coffee meet! Ugh! This one was my fault. I really led him on and I feel bad. This guy showed up for coffee and filled the doorway – he was a mountain of a man – height and weight both. While very nice and very attracted to me – as he stated quite clearly – I wasn’t very attracted and our coffee talk revealed that he was very conservative among other things that didn’t click with me. A few Obama jokes and I was just about done, but we were both talkers and our coffee wound up being almost three hours long. I take responsibility for that. I gave him the impression that it was going well when in fact, I had just given us enough time to discover what didn’t work. Also, I kept thinking that he reminded me of someone and I couldn’t put my finger on who. Finally I did. My deceased father-in-law. Ugh. No. If there was any hope of anything happening with him (which there wasn’t) that had just put the nail in the coffin. He asked me to go for a walk or to dinner to turn our meeting into a date but I declined. Later I sent him an email saying what a pleasure it was to have met him and I hoped that we could be friends, but that his resemblance to my FIL was disconcerting and I couldn’t imagine a romance resulting. I also made some rather nice statements about him reminding me that my son got his beautiful eyes from my FIL and such. I was very complimentary and nice but he was quite pissed and told me it was “my loss” and we most certainly did not become friends after that.

B36 was a big, goofy teddy bear of a guy with piercing blue eyes and a winning smile. We messaged for a few days before exchanging numbers and then texted often. He would send me messages saying “hey beautiful” and we made plans to meet for coffee or a drink after he got off from work on Memorial Day. However, as it happened, his relief at work called in and quit and he was stuck providing security at a local office complex. He had been up for a long time, had been working for 12 hours and was enjoying the holiday pay and overtime but was dismayed at not getting to see me. He kept me posted on updates from his dispatcher, but it looked like it wasn’t going to happen. He kept us both entertained by sending funny little pictures and videos of himself at work. He joked about me bringing him some coffee. One of the photos he sent clearly showed the logo of the place he was providing security for so I looked it up and went to go get him some coffee. I figure he’s security, right? I messaged him right before I got there and he was thrilled. We met in the parking lot for coffee. He was a big guy, but he wore it well by being both broad and tall. I thought he was pretty sexy and the feeling seemed mutual. Before long we were exchanging kisses. Soon, we were making out. He also loved to put his hands on my neck and shoulders – which makes me crazy. And licking. He was a licker – tonguing my neck and ear like a starving man. I could only imagine the other things that tongue could do. Man, it had been SO LONG since I had had sex and even longer since I had been that turned on! He was still working though, and still waiting to hear about someone coming to relieve him. Finally, the call came that someone would be there in about 30 minutes. We discussed whether to try to meet another time or what. I knew he was exhausted but he didn’t care – he still wanted to spend time with me. I invited him to come to my place. I was ready for some SEX! 

Eventually, he followed me back to my place. I did manage to get his full name and let my friend know that I was bringing him home before doing so – safety first! This was the first guy that I had brought home to my new place. He grew up in my neighborhood and knew it well. I was looking forward to that tongue in action but besides some making out, there wasn’t a further demonstration. He was tired and I was absolutely understanding. He wasn’t tremendously endowed either – a slight disappointment, but I was still looking forward to having it in me! Yay! We got the condom applied and lined up the shot and he was having trouble getting in. I opted for rear-entry due to our size and to get maximum use out of his finger-sized member. On the third failed attempt at entry he said “sorry” and then lay back on the bed. Ugh! Frustrating! I figured I would have to take charge of the situation…until I realized what he was apologizing for. He’d cum without ever making it inside of me. Oh MAN! Goddammit! I was so annoyed! But I managed to keep it mostly to myself while being very understanding about the fact that it had “been a long time” and that he was really tired from working so long. Okay, go to sleep and let’s try in the morning, yeah? No. Instead he talked my face off about conservative politics, his female roommate, his cat, more conservative politics, how he was a pro-Life Republican and I was an idiot. Hey bub, if you are suddenly so full of energy, how about putting that tongue to better use than talking bullshit? Jeez what a disappointment! We tried to get together again. He would text me with “hey sexy” and “hey beautiful” and we would make tentative plans that he never seemed to follow through on. He didn’t have enough money to put gas in his stupid monster truck, they cut his hours, or worst, “sounds good – I’ll let you know” followed by…nothing. Seriously. The guy’s last words to me were “okay, beautiful.” After that? I didn’t bother.

Seriously though, both B36 & N42 (whom we will talk about later,) were invited over to my place for food that I bought and cooked, football and sex. Both stood me up. What kind of man turns down food, football & sex? I tell you, it’s the kind I don’t want to mess with anymore! Buh-bye! NEXT!

 

17
Mar
13

credit where credit is due

By risquedivorcee Leave a Comment
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I realize my last several posts have been a bit negative. The evolution of this blog has taught me that this is a great outlet when I’m feeling disciplined to write and share, and also when I’m feeling frustrated, lonely, snarky or am simply enjoying some solo time. However, when things are nice, fun, interesting, delicious, hot and I’m spending a lot of time in bed? Well, the best I can do is a quick tweet. (#risquedivorcee) When I’m getting goodly fucked, I’m not blogging. Subsequently, you guys are missing the good stuff and getting only the complaints. I think you should dump me. I’m a selfish whore.

No, baby, baby – I promise I’ll change! I’ll be good! You’ll like it from now on, I promise! I’ll do all those things you like!

Credit where credit is due – with R30 on Monday night…well, Tuesday morning. This was the guy that picked me up and pushed it pretty hard at the casino around 12:30am. I was seriously grubby and he was enraptured and kept calling me beautiful. His pitch was so strangely desperate – like he was overwhelmed by me and couldn’t possibly let me go without convincing me to date him, fuck him or let him give me a massage – that I actually wondered at its legitimacy. I was sort of waiting for his friends to show up and laugh or something sinister like that. But we exchanged numbers as well as kisses, despite his rather odd “used car salesman” pitches and his slightly effeminate manner. If I had to label, I would say that this guy was a pure cougar fan. Turns out, as indicated above, he’s 30.

Eventually, his buddies texted that they were leaving and he left me. A few minutes later, he came back, saying that they weren’t leaving yet and that he just wanted to spend a few more moments with me. We’d more or less made a date for the following night and it was quite late – like around 2am. He left again and I got up, stretched and moved to another machine at the casino. I was about ready to leave, but was on a winning streak and just enjoying playing a bit on their money. Then I got a text from him.

His friends and some girls are going to smoke out and drink at some lake that’s not too far from where I live. Would I like to come and hang out with him? Well, first, going to strange, secluded places with a bunch of men in the middle of the night is just an invitation for gang rape. Plus it’s late, it’s pissing rain and it’s cold. Why would I go to a lake – even if I was looking cute and more awake? I politely decline, saying that I am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. He persists – can I just meet him at Shari’s for pancakes? He wants to spend more time with me. Well, that’s sweet and far less dangerous, but I’m not hungry and it’s nearing 3am now. Plus, how would that work? The logistics are confusing as he and his pals all rode together. Turns out he’s at home and has his own car now. Can we meet someplace and just talk?

Fuck it. He’s turned me on, he’s promised me a massage and it’s been almost two weeks since I had sex. I tell him to meet me at my place and I start driving. He’s driving right behind me, so I only have about 10 minutes to set the scene, have a little whore bath, put my hair in a ponytail, brush my teeth & put on sexy underwear and a robe. He’s at my door in no time. It’s almost 4am. I let him in and we kiss.

It took me awhile to realize that this guy is actually probably a bit of a sub. That could be what was up with the vibe I was picking up from him. But I’ve decided that since he offered the massage and since he has good hands, that I will enjoy the slow, languid, sexy massage that I hope to get. And he wants to do it – he wants to serve me and be my slave. We start making out and I lead him to the bedroom that is bathed in dim light and has a towel and massage oil close at hand – along with condoms, naturally.

R30 is very sweet and almost gentlemanly in the moves that he makes. He asks my permission to untie my robe. I let him. He practically faints at the sight of my body in the hot undies. He gasps, he pants, he tells me that I have a beautiful body. He asks if he can touch me. He asks if it’s okay, if it feels good. I say yes because it does. We kiss more, I let him rub me, he asks if he can touch my breasts. Oh god, you had better! But don’t hurt my pretty bra! He’s rubbing, kissing, sucking, licking, blowing (he’s got some lick then blow cold air on thing that he does – doesn’t really do it for me, but I get what you’re trying to do I guess.) He tells me to lie down. I’m just in my boy-short panties. He gasps at my ass and asks if he can touch it. He gets out the oil and rubs me in a very sensual massage. Before turning attention to my ass and other areas, he decides that my feet are cute and that he needs to rub my toes. He asks if that’s okay. Yes. Oh, wow – he’s going to suck them too. That’s only the second time that’s ever happened in my life. My brain thinks that the whole toe-sucking practice is gross but my twat thinks it’s really fucking hot and responds with a rushing river of wet.

Speaking of my pink parts, he finally got there – again, after asking permission – and when I was on display for him, breathlessly offered: “my God, that’s so beautiful.” You have to love such adoration and appreciation! All this was such a delight, but what he did with his tongue, hands & fingers was nothing short of amazing. I’ve had a few men who loved to eat pussy and get all up in there, but this guy took the cake. I think I still have bruises on my pelvis from his face crushing into my lady business. Eventually, after I had come a fair few times, we eventually relieved him of his pants and I found that he was endowed like a soup can. Oh yeah, I can work with that. Seriously, the girth was about that of a can of Campbell’s chunky style and the length possibly a bit more. Oh lucky, lucky me.

As part of the sales pitch that my new friend had offered earlier – he asked me “how long I could go” mentioning that he was a marathoner and could go back-to-back multiple times. Given that we started at 4am and he still had to go pick up his friends after their party, I didn’t expect a full demonstration, particularly because he mentioned that he probably only had an hour or so. He had also warned that it had been awhile for him so the first time would probably be quick but the second would be better. I fully expected him to “get a text” after the first quickie and run, but after all the fine, fine attention I had already received I wasn’t about to complain.

As it turned out, the first time was fantastic. The only problem was that he was slamming into me so violently that he would occasionally pop out because of his somewhat short length. I think we tried every possible position. After he came he was right back at me – keeping me warmed up for the next round that happened pretty quickly – especially after I gave him what he later referred to as “the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my life.” I also demonstrated my trick of applying a condom with my mouth. He was shocked, amazed, stunned and curious. I just explained that it’s a great way to keep a guy from losing wood while putting the condom on. So impressed was he that he asked me to do it again when we went in for round three. By that time both of us were flagging as it was after 6:30am and we had just had a mini-marathon of sex for almost three hours straight without stopping.

I’ve had a few texts from him since – one with a dick pic – and there was some talk about getting together today. I haven’t heard from him yet, but maybe I ought to take a nap just in case! 😉

17
Mar
13

telling a guy to fuck off…before 8 am!

By risquedivorcee Leave a Comment
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Arg. I think this might be my third cranky-ish blog entry in a row, but I know that some of you love me for my snark & bitchiness, right? Right? Say it! Say my name!

Last night I cooked up a bunch of corned beef and all the fixings and brought it over to my friends’ house. After we feasted, seven of us went out to a local Irish pub and started our St. Patrick’s Day revelry. Great band, great friends, excellent beers – a night of friends rather than men. In fact, one of my male friends asked if I didn’t have a date offer on a Friday night and I said no, I did – I just wanted to hang out with my pals! A most excellent, raucous time was had by all & we left around 12:30, grabbed some drive-in burgers & shakes & went back to my friends’ house & crashed pretty hard.

Side note, C43 finally “showed up” again yesterday via text and we actually had a playful, fun bantering, flirty text exchange from about 7pm, throughout the evening until around 1:30am. A rare treat for me. I love his brain and wish he wasn’t so confusing & weird, but he is.

The end of the night found me comfortably ensconced in my friends’ lovely guest room. They provided every comfort for my drunk ass! Then at 7:41am on a SATURDAY I received a text that woke me from my blissful slumber. I had a feeling that I knew who it was, but I couldn’t find my phone and nearly tore the bed apart – anxious to KILL the offender. Finally, I found it and yes, it was exactly who I thought – THOR! Asshole!

Now, I was going to write about this guy later and ask if it is possible to date someone who goes by a very stupid moniker. Who the hell calls themselves THOR, after all? He’s a POF contact – 33, tattooed & pierced, bigger guy, my type and seemed quite interested in me – and wanted to meet right away. He’s the one I call “T33” and I tried to meet last weekend but he was “busy” when it came down to it. Meanwhile, he would text me “hey mama” “hey sexy” all week and twice sent me dick pictures. Okay, so the guy has a cock like a can of Pringles. This is potentially worth putting up with some annoying habits, but he was starting to grate on my nerves. Call me old fashioned, but I guess I’d like to meet a guy before seeing his junk. Though again, nice junk. But I was getting a vibe from him that he mostly just wanted to exchange pictures and that’s all. Not my thing.

Back to the dumb name. I was trying to figure out how to reference it in the blog. I mean, seriously? How can I talk to him without sniggering? How could I refer to him to my friends with a straight face and how could I blog about his goofy name without using it? I considered calling him ZEUS or HULK or something in the blog, but now that he’s been an asshole and I’ve cut him loose, I feel fine using his “real” fake name. I mean, I’m sure it’s not the name that his mama gave him. And speaking of his mama, I’m NOT HER and him calling me “mama” was getting on my nerves as well. A fact that I had no problem sharing with him, but that he seemed to have a problem understanding. Not a big listener, this guy. Must be all his brains are in that big cock.

THOR (yes, it must be in all caps,) was also very slow to understand that our schedules are very different. We essentially work opposite hours. After an early morning text during the week I asked him not to message me before 9am. His response was to tell me how fucked up my schedule is. He’d been mildly to moderately irritating and was simmering way on the back burner because of his presumptions (that we would meet and fuck) and his inability to listen (friends before FWB, for instance.) So, 7:41am on Saturday comes a text from him saying “hey mommy” MOTHER. FUCKER. (Or not, in my case!) I finally found my phone so that I could send my livid reply:

What the fuck, man? 7:41 on a Saturday morning with that mommy shit?

Sorry, up and horny

Yeah? Fuck off! I asked you not to text me before 9. I asked you not to do the mommy shit. I think you’re not big on listening or respecting. And you woke my ass up!

Ha ha whatever bye

Yeah, whatever. BYE! What is it with guys who think that just because they are up and horny that you should be as well? This is a guy that I would have met and if we had hit it off, we could have had some nice, regular, no-strings sex. I was pretty clear about that too. But you blow it by being a pushy, immature asshole? Well, at least I found out before I wasted any condoms on him. Sheesh. Someone that self-involved and clueless is likely to be shit in the sack anyway. Not that I couldn’t get myself off on that big meat stick…but this is part of my evolution in dating: fucking vs. FWB. I have come to the amazing discovery that I can get laid pretty much whenever I want to. The thing is? I would also like to have some men that I can talk to, hang out with, see a movie, game or concert with and possibly, hang out with my friends on occasion without feeling ashamed to bring some fuck stick around. This is much more in keeping with the direction that I have taken in the dating world recently. The problem seems to be that the ones that are best in bed are not the most attractive to me as people and vice-versa. This is not always the case, but it’s sadly true quite frequently. Which is why I keep looking!

15
Mar
13

why are the good guys worst in bed?

By risquedivorcee 7 Comments
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God.

I just spent the night with a very nice, fairly attractive, appreciative, complimentary man that I have a lot in common with. He loves to make out, snuggle, stroke, touch and manages to find the clit too. I feel like high school though. Lots of working me up, getting me hot and ready and…not bringing the goods! Yes, we had intercourse, but there were only about two satisfying strokes – the rest were shallow and slow – because he was trying not to cum. Okay, I understand this, but fellas, let me say this: when I’m that worked up and ready I would rather have 1 minute of nice, hard & deep pounding that 5 minutes of tentative & shallow strokes. Though five minutes may be a generous estimate on my part. To his credit, he did say that he didn’t want to give a bad first impression, so he went down on me for a good while. But it was again very tender and torturous. I finally had to ask him if he would finger me while tonguing me. Cripes! I wanted to call in a backup dick but felt it might be offensive to break out a big dildo and fuck myself with it at this point in the “relationship”. But I wanted to!!

I even managed to sleep well with this guy – a rarity! I awoke to him pulling me into his arms in a spoon position, kissing the back of my neck, rubbing me. Wet as hell, I settle myself so his dick is against the crook of my ass and give a little wriggle and moan. This usually does the trick for initiating morning sex. No dice. He went so far as to unwrap a condom and I went so far as to give him some oral stimulation, but he just never managed to get full wood. Finally I gave up.

Argh – there’s potential here, but I am afraid that I just set myself up for FWB with guy who is really into me and wants to be a regular but who doesn’t deliver in the fashion to which I have become accustomed. Just one of many reasons that I refuse to have an exclusive deal with anyone!

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