Posts Tagged ‘Blogging

13
Oct
14

Have you ever dreamed of blogging?

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!

07
Oct
14

Stealing a moment

I have a lot to catch up on – not the least of which is writing in my blog. I was inspired to try to write a brief post (instead of my normal War & Peace type offering,) when I visited my “Blogs I Follow” page and caught up with all the lovely bloggers that I read regularly. While I was enjoying their posts and admiring their discipline in writing for more often than I, I realized that something seemed familiar about one post I was reading. I felt like I had read it before. The story was brief, shocking, funny and memorable. Which is why, because it felt like a re-run, I figured it must have been something that was re-blogged or forwarded from another website. I scrolled to the bottom of the entry to see where the original piece had been featured only to find a brief bio of the “author” – the same young woman whose name was prominently featured on the top of the page as blog owner. Huh. I peered at her photo for a second thinking that she actually looked to be a bit too young to have been a teen during the time she claimed that this story of her youthful escapade took place. Scrolling further, I glanced at the reader comments under her article and bio. Every single one of the comments mentioned that the article was plagiarized. People called her out for copying the work from a national magazine and for not giving credit.

What the hell?

I’ll be the first to admit that there is a fine art to storytelling and comedy that allows for taking someone else’s joke, experience or story and making it your own or spinning it in a way that makes it more interesting or funny. I don’t mind that sort of thing done for comedic intent. Stating something deadpan and saying “I swear to God, totally true” is not okay unless you crack up and let the person off the hook after the punchline, in my opinion.

People on Twitter are always flapping about “stolen tweets” as if the goal wasn’t to “re-tweet” those 140 characters into anonymous oblivion. Stealing a blog and calling it your own? That makes about as much sense as writing a fake entry in your journal. What’s the point?

As usual, I feel the need to answer myself.

It’s the same wacky “pride” that makes someone give a shit about the number of stars and re-tweets they get on Twitter or “likes” on Facebook. Some people live by the number of followers that they have and monitor their stats religiously.

Obviously this is not me. I have so many partly-finished drafts and unfinished bits that my blog dashboard (and actual desktop) is littered with messy little pieces of myself. Just like a real diary.

The idea of stealing someone else’s words and posting them here as my own? A repugnant thought and gross violation – for both of us.

16
Jul
14

Do you ever wonder if they are all the same people?

During the past several months I haven’t been doing much blogging. It’s funny, really. Life is generally good and I’ve been busy with work, my boyfriend, travel, games, reading, hobbies and housework. Blogging is like a live, interactive journal for me – a place to really work on my thoughts and feelings. Because I’m writing for an audience, however, I find myself needing to be a bit more disciplined than I would be in a regular diary. I feel like I need to be a bit structured and to come to some sort of conclusion or denouement in order to wrap things up nicely. Which means I don’t blog as often as I ought.

For awhile, I was following a “power blogger” who wrote several blog entries each day. Many of them were quite short or reposts of news or other items that interested him. His discipline was in posting every day and, seemingly, every thought. I tend to be more studied and I also try to keep on a theme – dating, sex and general survival after a divorce. Granted, the dating stuff was most entertaining and took the forefront, but I suppose I could share a bit more about the ex, the kids, money, insurance…the struggles…but I find that to be pretty boring, mostly. I suppose I should consider sharing a bit more of that side though.

Meanwhile, while not writing as much, I have been reading a whole lot more blogs. As I consider my current relationship, I have been considering dating again and how that might work. I’m intrigued by other poly people and swingers. How do they make it work? And do they, actually? Do they manage to find balance, contentment, love, trust, family? Is it all just temporary, fleeting moments of excitement and newness until someone else becomes the new, interesting person? Are they admirable in their ability to be self-reliant or are they sad in their constant state of flux and turnover? Are people in dedicated families (quads, triads, etc) too busy with household management and great sex to blog? I wonder.

As I was reading these numerous different stories I became intrigued by a sort of odd fantasy that perhaps they were all just sort of the same people. I know that some poly communities are quite small – even with my own very limited experience I have found that there are several people that I know of who are “mutual friends” with other friends of mine. I’ve had an incredible number of people who know other people in common. I’ve also come to know some of my current love’s past lovers socially and one gal he’s been dating lately is quite intent on meeting me. All of this supports this weird fancy that I created imagining that I was reading about the same people from different first-person perspectives.

Imagine – “Artsy Chick” goes on a trip with “The Woodsman” and is gone for a week. Meanwhile, “Suburban Poly Mom” is writing about how “Nature Boy” isn’t going to be around for awhile because he’s vacationing with “Sophisticated Sara” so she’s spending more of her time with “The Stud” who is also seeing “Hippie Chick” (aka: “Festival Freak” aka: “Tye-dye Tina” aka: “Patchouli Princess” – depending who is blogging about her!) Hippie Chick calls him “Mr. Big” and he’s also seeing “The Librarian” who is also seeing “Artsy Chick” – are you feeling me?

Maybe it’s the fact that I like to read lots of fiction and look for overlaps and common threads to solve mysteries and move a story forward, but I found that reading about ten different poly/dating blogs caused me to start fusing people into each other’s stories. Maybe “The Woodsman” is also “The Lumberjack” who hasn’t been returning texts from Portland Poly Blogger but while she can’t figure out why he didn’t respond to her impromptu dinner invite the other night, only you and I know it’s because he’s out in the woods camping with “Artsy Chick” and won’t be back until tomorrow.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re all just living in the same soap opera.

22
Oct
13

Once I had a blog

Jesus. I used to have a blog.

Now I have…

  • A Facebook addiction. Hey, I’m level 31 on Game of Thrones & always in the top two on Bejeweled Blitz! 😉
  • Football season. It happens every fall – the NFL takes over my life.
  • A messy house, unfolded laundry & a constantly neglected “to do” list.
  • Friends that need me. These amazing people were there for me when my marriage was falling apart, my life was in the toilet and I was terrified. I worked hard at making sure that they were not neglected while I was in the intense early stages of this new relationship. Now, as I’ve settled into a more domestic stage of what has become a passionate love affair, I continue to work at maintaining, nurturing & protecting friendships. I’ve made the mistake of being too insular in the past and have blown off friends, family and other interests because I was focusing on my new love and ignoring everything else. I’m trying to be balanced and not lose the rest of the life that I value so much just because I’m in love with a man that I’m kinda giddy crazy about.

And oh yeah, I have…

A relationship. I mean, it’ really great. Really. But it’s moved fast and in unexpected directions. It’s tough to maintain what has primarily been a dating blog when I’m really only seeing one man right now. But there are still interesting stories that haven’t been told – bits & pieces that I have been experiencing and saving but not sharing because most nights I spend time continuing the discovery of this amazing man. And having mind-blowing sex. God DAMN the sex is great. I thank all the powers that be for a smart, funny, generous, big-cocked man with a decent sex drive who is really into ME! Thank you! Thank you! I like to think that karma brought him to me because I deserve it! Lord knows that I do!

Gushing aside, nothing is perfect. I have my frustrations, insecurities and areas for growth that I need to work on. This blog has been a great tool for working out my stuff and I’ve been neglecting it – which is just dumb. Writing for the blog is much like writing for a personal diary, but since there actually is an audience (however small you may be,) I find that I really make an effort to condense my thoughts and find a denouement or at least some sort of summary/life lesson to wrap things up. Even a bit of humor can really tie the room together and give me perspective. Having not written here in over a month, I find that without a sounding board, I get a little too introspective and tend to over-think things. This is my first new primary relationship in…26 years. I’m trying to learn from past mistakes and am forging a new path into this love. I’m discovering myself as much as I am my man.

Also, I am rather fond of my Risqué Divorcée persona. That bitch is fun, frisky & fearless! I need to tap into that bold, confident part of myself more often!

30
Aug
13

My Risqué Divorcée tattoo is happening!

I’m scheduled to get the Risqué Divorcée caricature of myself tattooed onto myself tomorrow afternoon. I’m a bit nervous. I LOVE IT but it’s also something that identifies my blog – which I’ve worked to keep separate & private from my real life. I’m lucky to be dating someone right now who is cool enough that I shared my blog with him. However, this isn’t for friends & family, really, so I will tell them (if they see it) that it’s a “chubby pinup of myself” and hope that they don’t stumble onto the blog. Whatever. It’s for ME!!

13
Jun
13

Catching up…requires more time!

Sorry, kids. The RD has been offline for awhile. I spent about three weeks steeped in what poly-folk call new relationship energy, followed by a vacation and now a little post-vacation recovery period of sloth & laziness. I have some catching up to do! In fact, I think I’m going to have to start keeping outlines again because boy do I have some stories to tell! I even have two or three new men who haven’t yet had a blog mention! I’ll try to stay in tonight and write a bit. Barring that, tomorrow morning should bear blog fruit! 

XOXOXO

RD

29
Apr
13

quandary

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. 😦

04
Apr
13

one month – reflections & my first black guy…

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!

28
Mar
13

dilemma

Briefly – before I head out for my “weekend pre-funk” – or as some call it, Thursday night…

I wanted to share a bit of a dilemma that I’ve been having in keeping up with the blog & my life. I have to go out and do stuff in order to have stuff to write about. (Even though I currently have a backlog of topics, I admit.) Still, I have to communicate with the fellows too and that does get distracting and time-consuming at times. Especially when the payoff is a blowoff. How did Fonzie keep all of his women engaged? I need to have a text rotation.

The other big distraction right now is Twitter. I started doing it about two weeks ago as a means of promoting the blog and cross-posting to a new audience. Then I fell in love. Seriously, that place is like my favorite bar filled with my loudest, raunchiest friends – the ones who don’t gasp and shout “over the line!” when I say something outrageous or offensive. The ones that give me a star! Also, I can manage Twitter (she lied) on my phone in small drabs throughout the day.

The dilemma, then, is that I forget what I’ve said, what I’ve written, what I’ve promised to tell about. I can’t remember if that was something I told a friend on the phone, tweeted, blogged or thought about blogging. Dudes, I’m kinda old and often drunk. Plus I’ve had most of my brains fucked out…

Here’s the thing: I need to get disciplined and organized! I have outlines and topic headings that I am trying to work through, but life keeps happening every day and I need to keep track of that too. Basically, I need to catch up on some old “homework” and then keep you up to date on current stuff. So…less Facebook and more blogging!

Admittedly, I have been very engrossed in the Supreme Court hearings this week and have read and commented on most of the arguments. Equality is something that I support fully and am pretty loud and active about.

Here’s to being loud and active, ya’ll!

19
Mar
13

first meets and first meats

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!

 




Categories

Quickies with the Risqué Divorcée!

  • Facebook "It looks like you're at Burger King. Check in to share with your friends." Me: shut the fuck up, Facebook! 3 years ago
  • RT @amyisprettycool: Ok, who wrote the Melissa McCarthy as Sean Spicer #SNL sketch because they just made America great again 3 years ago
  • RT @LuvPug: My husband thinks it's so cute when I speak to him with terms of endearment like 'honey' or 'cockblocker' 3 years ago
  • RT @SondraDeeMe: I've always had a soft spot in my heart for female T-Rex because the tampon insertion must've been really difficult. 3 years ago
  • RT @joss: To everyone who keeps saying "Go back to making jokes/films/etc", WHAT DO YOU THINK WE WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING 3 years ago