Posts Tagged ‘online dating



21
Jul
13

The man that helps me believe in polyamory makes me think about monogamy

I woke up an hour and a half before my alarm today with the intention of blogging. I had coffee. I had some food. I decided that I couldn’t type while eating so I went to Facebook. I played some games. I commented, liked, lurked…played more games. I finally opened this blog window as my alarm was going off. Oh, I know avoidance when I see it. Yes, yes I do. I have been avoiding you.

I find this self-awareness to be interesting despite any real effort on my part to actually change the behavior. I know what I’m avoiding and yet I’m fairly content to allow myself to do so. It’s like leaving dishes in the sink. I know they’re there but I’m a grown-ass adult and I can leave my dishes in the sink if I so choose. Right?! Adult!

Okay, fine, fine! I was on vacation in the boondocks for a week and then came home sick too – so let me add a legitimate excuse to the pile of rationalizations.

I have observed that if I really like a man that I am seeing that it is difficult to blog about him. I find that I am all about bravado, humor and being bawdy and not so great at being soft, squishy & vulnerable. It doesn’t really take a therapist to figure out my defense mechanisms for self-protection. Oh sure, when you start seeing someone that you really like you get swamped with new relationship energy – you start seeing each other a lot and let everything fall to the wayside. Friends, dishes, blogs…  But as that eases a bit, I find myself having even more of a struggle starting to tell the tale. It becomes like catching up on overdue homework – a seemingly insurmountable obstacle! Jeez, I’m still talking about why I haven’t written. Start writing already!!

He’s E38 and I decided to call him Working-class Whimsy because he’s an artist, smart, well-spoken, well-read and has interesting perspective, but he also comes from a very blue-collar background and works a project management job in the construction industry. He could also be “chameleon” because he manages to sort of fit into lots of settings and also pull off several different looks – something that I mentioned to him in my first response on OKCupid. He messaged me saying that he was attracted and that we seemed to have shared interests and that I should respond if I felt the same. I looked at this goofy, funky, artistic, sexy man who described himself as a poly starving artist with a twisted sense of humor and thought “oh yes…”

I think our first phone call was seven hours. I loved his honesty, openness and matter-of-fact frankness. No bullshit. Direct. I even broke one of my cardinal rules and engaged in a bit of phone sex at the end of our marathon chat session. The conversation had turned to sex in an offhand “what do you like” sort of way and it was clear that both of us were going to hang up and go rub one out. I sent a text after our call ended and asked if he wanted me to “talk him off” and called him back. As it turned out, he did most of the talking. Man, he talks very, very well. I told him that I knew we were going to have a lot of fun. And so far we have.

Our schedules didn’t match up until Memorial Day largely because I was seeing the “Teddy Bear Pirate” that weekend and engaging in lots and lots of sex with him. By the the time Whimsy and I got together on Monday I was sore and raw from being worked over all weekend. We were planning to have lunch somewhere near a shopping area a few miles away from my place where he was looking at electronics. I had to use the bathroom so I went into the mega electronics store and texted him that I was there. He found me. (Not in the bathroom! After!) Now, you hear about sparks flying and chemistry and love at first sight, right? Well, I’m too old and jaded for that bullshit, but there was something instantly…comfortable from the start. As we fell into step in the store it felt like we should have already been holding hands. Natural. Relaxed. There was a feeling of “oh, hey – there you are. I know you.” We just sort of clicked.

Being ever the romantic, our next stop was the hardware store next door for wasp spray. Sexy, huh? As I said, there was a general degree of casual comfort from the get-go. When we discussed lunch, we opted for a place in town and I drove us both there in my car. We ate and fell into easy conversation. As the meal neared the end he started asking what I wanted to do next. He noted that the weather was too poor to take a walk and said that we could see a movie – though he acknowledged that wasn’t very social. I thanked him for the movie invitation but declined, saying that I would much rather talk with him more.

We opted to leave the restaurant and figure out what to do next. While crossing the parking lot, he asked me what I wanted to do and I said “what do you want to do?” He then stopped, put his hand on my hip, pulled me to him and planted a very serious kiss on me. Stroking my face, he said “that is what I wanted to do.” A minute later, while getting in the car, he chuckled and said “I wanted to make sure that you knew I was interested.” I laughed and said that since he didn’t check the time and say he needed to get going and kept asking what I wanted to do next that I figured he was interested. I said that I was too and indicated that I would really like to hang out and talk some more. We discussed where to go and I finally said “look, we could go to my place, but if we do we’ll probably wind up in bed – not that that’s a bad thing, but I had company all weekend and am actually really fucked out, so…”

Yeah, classy, right? Or just refreshingly honest? I had had sex something like eleven times and was absolutely aching. I didn’t want our first time to be “oooh, ah…ow” you know? So he said he would be fine with just talking or maybe even watching a movie. We came to my place and talked for about an hour…before we wound up in bed.

Okay, look…the sex? It was nothing short of spectacular. Goddamn! I feel like I’m constantly saying that I’m having the best sex of my life but that’s only because it’s true! I mean, there have certainly been some duds during the past few months but mostly it’s been GREAT! Well, here I go – once again crowing a new “best ever” man. Oh, I can’t base it solely on our first several times (that all happened that first day/night/next morning – yow!) because we’ve probably had sex fifty more times since then and it continues to be exceptional.

I’m simply enjoying someone who is a very excellent match for me, sexually. He’s great at sensing and responding – sometimes being achingly slow and sensual, sometimes being rough & commanding, sometimes letting me take charge, sometimes overwhelming my senses with an orgasmic onslaught. He loves to eat ass and pussy and is truly gifted in the art forms. He goes crazy when his ass is rimmed – something I’d never done before but find to be unobjectionable and very rewarding when he goes completely wild in response. Also, he has an absolutely perfect cock. Just right. Bonus!

E38/Whimsy is poly and has two other girlfriends. Our attitude & philosophy in this area is very similar and we’ve talked openly about it quite a bit. He’s great at communicating and scheduling and I’ve felt absolutely cherished, satisfied and appreciated these past couple of months. He helps me believe that polyamory can work between smart, caring, honest, mature, responsible adults. Right now it’s really, really working for us. And yet, all this ooey, gooey squishy, lovey new relationship energy has me occasionally thinking “hmmm…what would it be like if we were exclusive?” That’s a lifetime of monogamy training talking combined with a man that I am incredibly compatible with and very smitten by. It’s also a whole other topic worth exploring…maybe next time!

xo

RD

18
Jun
13

Getting dumped by someone I wasn’t even attracted to in the first place

Okay, kiddies – I’m going to try to get you up to date on recent events and may as well start with this one.

We’ll call him the little pirate bear & identify him as M41. Little Pirate Bear messaged me on OKC in a pretty bold and flirtatious fashion near the end of April. For those keeping score, I was still messing around with my young, hot booty call boys at that time and wasn’t that excited about this guy. He indicated that he’d just come out of a long-term relationship and didn’t know what he was looking for but needed to start looking. Okay, there’s a warning bell sounding in there because I can be kind of a handful, but he said that he loved kickin’ curves and loving a woman’s body, so he brought enough flirtatious zest to the table to get my attention. Subsequent conversations seemed to indicate that we had quite a lot in common as far as our personal relationship history was concerned and I felt like he was at the exact place that I was about 10 months ago – dipping my toe into dating for the first time in 20+ years, uncertain about what was available or what I wanted, lacking confidence, terrified but also excited to be taking those first steps in a new direction.

For as bawdy, ribald & raunchy as I can most certainly be, I’m also a real human being with the ability to be kind, empathetic, a good listener, a good friend, encouraging and nurturing. I felt like I could be supportive and encouraging to this guy and help set him on his feet for the dating scene – even if we didn’t hit it off romantically. It is notable to mention that our match score was around 90% – so he was similar to me politically, socially, sexually, ethically & concerning lifestyle. He was also poly-friendly. I was cautiously optimistic in meeting him. I figured that he wasn’t ready for me, but that I could probably be an encouraging friend and maybe more. I agreed to meet him for a drink.

He arrived early, I arrived late (due to traffic – a fact I communicated to him en-route) and when I spied him in the bar my internal response was a decisive “ugh”. I wasn’t attracted. He was a bit overdressed for a casual meeting – wearing a sports coat & slacks. He was short, stout & very grim looking overall. Still, I attributed a lot of that to nerves and newness. I soon came to realize that I was the first date that he’d had since his marriage. Which meant that I was the first woman besides his wife that he’d gone out with in something like 22 years. I cut the guy some slack and pointedly ignored his profuse sweating and frowning intensity. I bought him a beer.

Whether it was the alcohol or me, our talk flowed and we really seemed at ease with one another conversationally. He was smart, funny, self-deprecating, forthright, complimentary and comfortable. We talked for a long time on many subjects – including exes, marriage, kids, dating, poly, group sex, open relationships and such “dangerous” topics for a first date. It did feel more like a first date than a first meet-up too. There was a bit more expectation and pressure that was present than just a standard quick drink. We parted ways about three hours after we met – with a chaste hug and plans to see the new Star Trek film when it came out in two weeks.

I half expected that we would part with a kiss or that during our walk to my car he would take my hand. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t because he was nervous or because we didn’t click, but I did get a pretty strong “friend zone” vibe from the little bear. However, if you have read my recent thoughts about ego and evolution, you will understand when I say that I tried to set aside the fact that I wasn’t super attracted to this guy but I did actually like him a lot as a person. I was sincerely trying to look at the big picture with people – and to date people that shared common interests and experiences – whether they were super sexy or not!

Our second date went similarly to the first. He was less nervous, I let him see my true inner nerd at the Star Trek flick and one time he touched my ankle in a flirtatious way. Other than that, nothing pertaining to touch or flirting happened. We did extend our time together by hitting a bar for happy hour after the movie, but I was still getting the comfy friend vibe and that was okay since I didn’t feel any particular chemistry on my end. I was considering him as an interesting and fun person though.

Our texts and occasional phone calls between meetings were another story. His messages, attentiveness & flirtation outside of our 1:1 interactions were much more forward, flirty & occasionally naughty. Sometimes we would even talk about sexual preferences and he would occasionally make a quip about how I would taste or something like that. Finally, I shot the elephant in the room by telling him that I was intrigued by the fact that his messages were a lot more flirtatious than he was in person. I essentially asked him if he was more comfortable dealing in text or if he was just messing around or what.

His response was basically that he felt like we were sort of “drinking buddies” and that he didn’t really “feel anything beyond that” with me but…well, I am a beautiful, sexy woman and interesting, we have fun together & a lot in common…we’ll see. I told him that I was glad he said that because I felt similarly. I found him very comfortable, fun and great to talk to, but that I wasn’t sure whether we were going to be romantic with each other. I also said that I didn’t think he was quite ready for me & that I was a lot to handle straight out of the gate. He seemed to take that as a personal challenge.

We made plans to get together on the Saturday of Memorial weekend. I had plans to play games with friends on Sunday and was meeting a new guy that I was very interested in on Monday. I told little bear that I would cook and he offered to help or bring wine, etc. We talked about mixers, drinks, etc and finally came a text from him that said “should I pack a bag?” He followed immediately by saying that this would determine what and how much he would drink. I said “yes, absolutely! You are welcome to be comfortable, stay & be at ease. My guest bed is made up and since we are grown-ass adults, we can see how it goes and decide where you should sleep.”

I was quite pleased with that message and had generally decided that I liked him enough that if we got comfortable and chemistry kicked in, I would sleep with him. I mean, it had been several weeks for me, quite awhile for him and the flirting & dirty talk had kicked in with some humor – I knew that we would both enjoy it. However, I had the notion that it would probably be a bit awkward for him and probably consist of a few fumbling attempts followed by maybe two minutes of thrusting and that’s it.

I also have to admit that I had adopted a somewhat cavalier attitude of “benevolence” where the little bear was concerned. Like I was doing him a favor by throwing him a little action. Not so much a pity fuck, but maybe close to that. More like proving to myself that my ego didn’t need to have a 29-year-old Brad Pitt and this guy needed to get laid, so why not?

He showed up with flowers & I opened the door wearing a dress that essentially said “this is yours if you want it.”

He did.

We had drinks, ate dinner, flirted more, he did the dishes, we were comfortable with each other, watched some TV, snuggled, held hands, kissed a bit…and eventually went to bed.

OMIGOD. He was amazing in the sack. I mean, crazy amazing. He ate pussy and ass like it was Gordon Ramsay’s signature Beef Wellington and he hadn’t had a decent meal in years. His hands and mouth knew exactly how to bring me to more orgasms than I could count. His penis was fairly small and his testicles were bigger than anything I’d seen outside of a 4-H fair, but that was secondary to some amazing, amazing oral and digital action that he simply liquefied me with. We managed to have intercourse despite the fact that his dick had a case of nerves. He could get it up & keep it up, but he couldn’t cum. Therefore, I let him lead and set the pace. That pace was to clean wear me out. Okay, maybe not so clean. There was plenty of dirty.

We talked a lot – his ex had basically started to consider sex to be a bad thing once they had kids. He had been made to feel ashamed of his sexuality and treated like a deviant and a predator. I like to think that I helped him get past that a little bit. We talked about poly and about what that meant to us. He said that he was just happy to be with me. He made us breakfast. It was very comfortable and companionable. I had plans to go play games with my friends that (now Sunday) evening and was putting together a dish to pass when I suddenly asked him if he would like to join me. I’d invited very few of my lovers to come hang out with my friends, but in the moment I was really, sincerely feeling it. I had been surprised by this man and also more than a little charmed. Also, he was meeting another lady for lunch on Monday and I lived much closer to where they were meeting than he did. It made sense to have him stay another night. He agreed and came to my friends’ house with me.

We had a perfectly great time playing cards and games and talking with my friends. He was charming, funny and personable and fit in quite well. Later that night we had a lot more excellent sex and it was really intimate and intense. I started to think that I could really enjoy keeping this one around. In my mind, I was thinking that I could have two regular lovers who were dirty, nerdy & fun. I was imagining living a “normal” polyamorous lifestyle with two men that I could see socially and also have great sex with. Of course, I wasn’t meeting the other guy until that Monday either, but I knew based on our extensive conversations that we were going to totally hit it off. I wondered if my blog would suffer due to the boring old two-man show that I imagined.

The following week was peppered with lots of texts and a few phone calls. We made plans to see Man of Steel when it came out and arranged to get together the following weekend as well. I really liked the little Pirate Bear and we had an affinity that made him really easy to talk to. I knew that he was trying to get together with a third gal sometime and that he’d talked to her a few times. I was delighted that we could be open and comfortable talking about that too.

The next weekend he came over again. I told him about meeting the other guy and that it had gone very well. (In another blog entry I will tell you just how well it went!) He told me he didn’t think that things were going to progress with his first lady but that he had plans to see the other gal on Thursday. We were very physical and I found myself really drawn to him – stopping to touch him or kiss him while he was cooking dinner, etc. During dinner, however, he asked what happens if he develops feelings for someone. I said “that’s great” and said that the whole idea of poly was that you could love and care about multiple people. He then said that he was very interested in the other gal but that she was not poly-friendly. He said that he had been up-front with her about our “preexisting plans”  and told her about our date, but he was concerned about what would happen if they hit it off. He threw in a “not that I don’t have feelings for you, but…”

I had a sudden, sinking feeling that he was setting up a scenario where he would ride off into the sunset with this new gal and throw me over. I was a little stunned because here we were enjoying good sex, good food, fun conversation and companionship and he was basically worried about what would happen if he fell for the new gal. I suggested that he could just simply tell her that he wasn’t ready to settle down into a serious relationship and that he was just dating right now. He seemed somewhat unsatisfied with that notion. We had a great day and night together and he finally achieved orgasm with me – twice, in fact. When he left he wished me well on my upcoming trip & we talked about having another movie date when I got back.

Again, we exchanged texts during the week, but not with the same degree of frequency. Okay, I understood that he was managing three different women at that point and that he was somewhat new to dealing with that. I was also enjoying the company and attention of the other new guy in my life and fine with that. On Friday, I was planning to see the new guy again and getting ready to head out of town on Saturday. Little Bear sent me a chatty text Friday afternoon before I headed to work. At some point I asked him how his date went on Thursday. Several minutes passed before he responded. His response took five texts.

He explained that it went so well on Thursday that he needed to cancel our date to see Man of Steel. He appreciated the time we spent together but he told me from the start that he thought we were just drinking buddies and he didn’t feel the same spark for me that he did with this new woman. He had wanted to do this in person after my trip, but he couldn’t begin a new relationship with this woman with this “unknown element” still out there. He apologized, saying that he thought that I was expressing some feelings towards him that he could not return. Then he said “you can hate me & drink & complain about me, but I can’t screw this up. Sorry again.”

Ugh. I just got dumped by a guy I didn’t even want to have a second date with. Seriously?

Regardless, I was a very, very good sport.

I responded by saying that I had warned him that he wasn’t ready for me and kindly said that I wasn’t expecting him at all. I called him “a pleasant surprise” and said how much I enjoyed our time together. I said that I thought his mind had no problem with poly but that his heart might have objections. I told him that he was good, honorable, kind & passionate and that he should remember that and value it. I told him to lighten up – we’d had fun and there was no regret and certainly no hate!

Pretty awesome of me, right? Guess what his response was? NOTHING! Seriously? You met a gal yesterday and today you’re going steady & can’t even talk to me over text? Jeez! A total dump and run!

Three hours later, my phone rang at a point in my workday when I couldn’t answer it. It was the Little Pirate Bear & the voicemail that he left made it sound like he had either pocket dialed me or just hung up without intending to leave a message. I tried calling him back a few minutes later and he didn’t answer. I sent a text asking if he’d meant to call. He eventually sent a text saying it was a total pocket dial and telling me to have fun on my trip and “Thx 4 all your understanding.” Well damn, you’re welcome. I said sure and thanked him for saying that, acknowledging that I was a tad butthurt that he hadn’t responded at all. I said “Best to you” and let it go.

I was a bit annoyed at the abrupt end to our whirlwind romance, but I guess I had seen the writing on the wall. I am happy to report that two days later he sent me a very nice text wishing me a happy birthday and inquiring about how I was doing in Vegas. I kept my response very brief and didn’t engage after he responded. No need to make it more awkward.

Funny enough, I had a new message on OkCupid this past Thursday and noticed that little bear’s photo was no longer next to his messages in my inbox. Lo & behold – after knowing his gal for exactly one week, he had pulled his dating profile. Wow. I predict that this “poly-friendly” guy will be married again within the year.

I told you he wasn’t ready for me!

–RD

13
Jun
13

Mysogyny, misandry, feminism and dating – points to ponder

Interesting op-ed about the Seattle dating scene: http://seattletimes.com/html/opinion/2021142903_daniellecampoamoropedxml.html

Very interesting response to this particular op-ed: http://mikejackwrites.wordpress.com/2013/06/13/the-seattle-dating-scene-why-men-wont-ask-women-out/

More terrific insight on the subject: http://jezebel.com/5992479/if-i-admit-that-hating-men-is-a-thing-will-you-stop-turning-it-into-a-self+fulfilling-prophecy

One of the arguments made herein is essentially that some Seattle men, being so progressive, don’t wish to offend or scare women by approaching them and asking them on a date. Personally, I appreciate a man who embraces a feminist perspective and has empathy for women who may have been abused, victimized, raped, ogled or otherwise marginalized. However, I think that a man (or any romantic partner, for that matter,) who is overly sensitive in trying to “protect” a woman from his advances is underestimating a woman’s ability to make her own choices and use her own voice. Making that decision for her is akin to saying “I know what’s best for you” and deciding without her consent.

Just ask.

Trust her to be healthy enough to respond appropriately. If she’s not? Run like hell, my friend.

30
May
13

Blame it on my ego…and my vagina…

I’ve been remiss. I’ve been avoiding you. I’ve had some shit to work out.

Yes, I’ve also been busy generating new blog material and have taken two new lovers since my last post.

But this time it’s different. Perhaps it sounds the same, but I assure you, it’s not.

In the week before Mother’s Day I had two different men sort of…blow me off. In both cases we had plans that were canceled and communicated poorly. Mother’s Day is always a bit sad for me anyway and the combination of two cancellations plus the holiday put me into a bit of a funk. The men in question are also my two youngest lovers – Brad Pitt (P29) and Soup Can Man (R30) – and I felt like that was perhaps part of the equation that allowed for my time to be so casually disregarded. Both of these guys were men that I met “organically” – that is, in my daily life, not through an online dating site. I think that also contributed to the casual “fuck buddy” attitude that had been fun, but was getting old. Particularly since both guys had asked me out socially as well but then bailed or not followed through. Our 3am activities were exciting and most excellent, but I was feeling a little empty and unfulfilled on the social front. My twitter pal, @Dirty_Bizness said it well recently “Fucking is great but I want some intimacy!” Spot on.

Furthermore, I felt like my ego & my vagina were sabotaging my ability to see what my heart and mind wanted. No, really. Initially, all this wacky dating stuff stemmed from my desire to get laid. Yes, I needed to get out there & meet new people, but mostly I just needed to see what was out there for me and find out what dating was like for the first time in 25 years. So not only was I aching to get boned, but I had no idea if anyone would want me or what kind of people were out there for my choosing. Heck, I didn’t even know that I would have a choice! So when the offers started coming in I accepted them – nearly all of them. I felt that it was only right to give everyone a fair shot. Oh I’ve had fun. Don’t get me wrong! I needed to have that experience. It was exactly what I needed when I needed it. But somewhere in there my fear, insecurity, ego or just the regular dose of very excellent sex distracted me from moving toward what I really want and from being a little more selective. I mean, having a gorgeous 29-year-old telling you how he wants to eat your pussy & ass? Total turn-on, total ego boost and I let it go to my head. I allowed him to let me be a casual booty call because I felt great when we were together and I didn’t want anything serious either, but I let myself be treated like an option and not tended like a person.

I was learning the difference between “fuck buddy” and “friend with benefits” and I was missing the friendship.

Then there were a few guys who were more like friends…and the sex was meh. Okay. I liked the companionship. I found myself saying “I like the nerdy and the dirty – I just wish they came in the same package!” I still wasn’t looking for only one person to meet that requirement, but I would have really enjoyed three or four guys who liked to talk, game, laugh, be social and fuck like demons. My theory was that I would just hold on to the growlfuckers (even if I wouldn’t ever consider having them meet my friends) and then keep the ones that I liked to talk to and hang out with around too. They could get invited to game night with my friends. Nothing wrong with friends, right? And sex sometimes improved with guidance and comfort with each other.

Recently, my perspective has changed again. On the advice of a friend, I made an OkCupid account & I really like it there even though I’m not as inundated as I am on other dating sites.  I got rid of Zoosk and Plenty of Fish. I started looking specifically for poly-friendly people. People that are fine if I say “no, Friday doesn’t work, I have a date and will probably sleep over there. How about Sunday?” People who have the emotional bandwidth to understand that they don’t want just one person, but they want love, intimacy and friendship with their lovers. Poly folk also tend to be good communicators and often have higher than average sex drives and/or are a little more kinky. I’m not into BDSM, swap parties & such, but I do like some stuff that’s beyond the old in-out. I like lovers who are enthusiastic and, well, passionate about sex. I’ve been finding them.

My recent epiphany was basically that I had been learning what I could have and now I have decided to be more selective and only accepting what I really want. I don’t have to accept every invitation. I can be kind, honest & polite, but I don’t have to say yes to someone when I know it’s a bad match. Guess what? I can get laid anytime. I want some fucking intimacy. Guess what else? I’m happy, healthy, self-aware, comfortable & confident enough to have it now. I’m ready. Guess what else? I’ve been finding those nerdy/dirty/funny/smart combo guys lately. I’m seeing three of them right now. 

So it seems the same, but there’s a change that’s happened for me and it makes me feel great. I’ll do a better job of keeping you up to date. I know I should have talked/written through it, but I wasn’t ready.

Nine days to my birthday in Vegas! Coming up next? I’ll tell you about my last trip to Vegas! 🙂

14
May
13

The Rest of the Story…

This is the continuation of the story about “Suave” (S42) and what happened after I accepted his indecent proposal.

I had indicated that I was getting a pretty strong sense of “too good to be true” from this guy, right? He had displayed some hesitations and reservations that I had simply chocked up to our newness with each other, our “arrangement” and his particular interest. But we I wasn’t imagining the part where we really got along. Or that he enjoyed our interlude, for that matter. He messaged me afterwards thanking me and saying that he couldn’t wait until “next time”. In turn, I messaged him thanks as well and said that while I was all for his plan to spoil me and make me more selfish that I would also be willing to have finished him by other means. Immediately, I received a text on my phone saying:

What other means? Just curious.

Well, I think about 2.5 more minutes in my mouth would have done the trick and that’s where I was headed with it, initially.

Would have been quite content to fuck you too.

Or, I suspect…given your enthusiasm for curves…that you might have liked to come on my tits.

Or, you know…I’m open to suggestion. 😉 

Oh wow. Yes. All of the above. Ha

Damn

Damn what? Damn it’s too bad you didn’t take a different option or damn those are good suggestions?

Or damn something altogether different?

Damn…that’s hot. Tonight was exactly what I wanted

Good. I liked it. It’s good for me to practice selfish therapy.

Yup. Anytime

Reeeeee-ally? Because I could *so* see you being part of my regular playlist! 😀

Ha. Cool

I mention needing to get something to eat and I go have dinner. An hour later he messages me again:

You’re very good at that, btw

At what? 😉

Giving head

Good. Glad you approve.

Ha. Of course. 🙂

And may I say? Back atcha!

Good. Thank you

Oh no, thank YOU

You were sooo wet

Heh. Yeah, that happens when I am suitably persuaded. 🙂

And so we messaged for the next few weeks. Yes, about my needing to learn to spoil myself & be selfish (as well as his interest in doing the spoiling,) and about work, friends, life, TV, gambling, games. He asked me about what kind of wine I like and what kind of coffee is my favorite. We talked about the sorts of “bachelor dinners” that we make for ourselves. I send him some pictures of Star Wars lithographs that I saw, he tells me how he recently got naked at the gym & realized that he was wearing Star Wars boxers. We talk about getting together again, but he reveals that he’s been kinda sick, but he keeps messaging, so it’s not a “we fucked and now I’m going to tell you I’m sick to blow you off” kind of deal. We messaged for about a week. He apologized for not being able to follow up. Messages are steady every day or two until the 12th day after we’d hooked up. I sent a brief text asking if he’s still alive. He replied “Yes, barely.” I rambled on a bit about the flu going around and how I’m going to hear a friend’s Jazz combo. He doesn’t reply. But it was Friday night and I figured he was probably otherwise engaged. Given the number of texts that we’d been exchanging and the regularity of them, I wasn’t concerned about getting dumped and I was certain that he liked me. I also wasn’t concerned about the notion that he was seeing other people. I certainly was and we’d been pretty clear about that. In fact, I was seeing quite a few people. Which makes the rest of the story even funnier.

Four days had passed since I last heard from him. This was a bit unusual, but I just assumed that he’d had a busy weekend, like me. Late Monday night found me messaging with a new romantic interest. We had just made the leap from messaging to exchanging phone numbers and he wanted to talk on the phone. About a minute into my first phone call with a delightful & interesting new guy, I got a text message from an unknown number in an unfamiliar area code. The message said “U don’t know me. But I found out about u the hard way –sent from Textfree.” Bummer. Crappy spam at 12:45am. I ignored it. Fifteen minutes later, my phone blew up with texts. Seven in a row.

In summary, the woman who messaged me explained that she had been dating a man for over a year that I met online. They had been intimate and he told her that they were monogamous. She loves him, he confessed & is going to therapy. She’s known him since 7th grade. This is devastating. He says he’s done. When was the last time he contacted me? She’s not interested in revenge or drama. He’s deeply depressed & she’s worried about him. Some of the things he told her about our encounters (note the plural,) “ysh! I’m not going to go there!” She wants me to answer yes or no & when. (Um, what?)

Meanwhile, I should remind you that I was on the phone with the new guy. Obviously our call was being disrupted by these multiple texts from this randomly ranting lady. Being the honest person that I am and not wanting to be rude to the new guy, I told him what was going on. He was amused and generally nonplussed, which was good. We talked about stalkers and weirdos that we had encountered during our online dating and I admitted that this was a first for me.

Back to the “no revenge, no drama” lady that’s been texting me. I finally responded.

Ok. Not sure if I believe you aren’t after drama when you send me 7 anonymous texts at 1am, but you have my attention. Who are you talking about?

This is followed up with 24 additional texts – and I only responded once saying that I didn’t get the photo that she claimed to have sent. I had to laugh when she told me the first name of the man she was talking about because I happened to have been involved with four men with that name during the previous three months. I was able to safely eliminate two of them from possibility. She confirmed which of the other two I suspected she meant by mentioning his being a Star Wars fanatic. Yep, I know that guy, but still I say nothing as she spews. Generally, the messages were about holding him accountable & his deception. She loves him, she forgives him, she wants him to get help. She appealed to my sympathy and changed tactics a little bit, and mentioning that she was a mom who had been going through cancer the past three years. She said that she was concerned for her safety and wanted to know if we had had unprotected sex. I guess she was expecting to make me mad or jealous when she told me how the other women had been so nice and cooperative. She told me he’d been sleeping with men. I guess I was supposed to be shocked and also feel betrayed and to suddenly become her compatriot in fury. Me? I was mostly just laughing and trying to talk to the new guy on the phone.  I still hadn’t responded and she started getting a bit nasty – making snide remarks about how SHE wasn’t the one with anything to HIDE. (Oh yes – she’d started using all caps.) Then, responding to my earlier message that she was texting anonymously, she messaged me her full name and phone number. Well heck, that’s interesting, right? She accused me of texting him instead of messaging her back. THEN she got personal – sending me a screen shot of one of the many private conversations that “Suave” and I had shared. Particularly the one where he had said that he liked that I sort of looked like a wholesome soccer mom and he loved the idea of driving me wild with passion. I had debunked that by sharing some very private information and she happened to have captured a good chunk of it in the pic she sent me. Then she said “well, good luck with the soccer mom thing then.” I was getting pissed. Then she said how unpleasant it was to see my naked pictures. Well, I knew for a damn fact that the only way there would be any naked pictures of me was if he took some without my knowledge. I didn’t think this was likely, but I realized that it was possible.

Meanwhile, trying to talk to my new friend while 31 texts chimed their arrival was getting to be silly. I apologized, asked if he was going to be up for awhile and said “I’m bout to go END a bitch.” I confirmed that it was okay to call him later and he said that I had better call him & tell him what happened!

So I called up Ms. Angel Rodriguez* (*you know by now that I don’t use real names, right?) She answered and knew my real first name. I barely got a word in before she launched into her life story. It seemed like she was riding on a huge adrenaline dump because I think that she talked for about 10 minutes solid without stopping. I asked if they lived together. She said no, she’s been living with her parents because one has cancer & the other has kidney disease. She’s been going through cancer treatment too. I stop her. I tell her that if she and other members of her household are immuno-suppressed or have low white count that she needs to be really careful and to protect herself. I mention “Suave” having told me that he was sick. She admits that she thinks she gave him the flu. (Hey – he was telling me the truth about that – cool.) After she admits that they aren’t exclusive, she says that they have been having unprotected sex for about 15 months. I suggest that she’s smart enough to know that she shouldn’t be bare-backing with someone that she knows is not being faithful to her. Particularly if she is at-risk. She agrees. As a courtesy, I tell her that we have not had unprotected sex but that we have “fooled around” and that I’ve never been to his place (which is where the naked photos that she found were set.) When she asks when the last time he contacted me was I say “recently, but not the past few days.” Apparently the shit hit the fan with her two days prior to her messaging me. That explains the “dead air” from Suave.

Ultimately, I tell her that she needs to take care of her own shit and that Suave was never dishonest with me. He told me that he had other lovers. Her relationship with him really isn’t my business and I don’t need to be further involved with any ongoing drama. She apologizes for imposing on me, thanks me for the talk. Tells me that I will find someone because I’m such a great person! She calls me “hun” and “sweetie” and tells me to take care of myself.

I was ready to go hardcore on this chick 10 minutes earlier and by the time we’re done I feel like she’s about to invite me for coffee. In fact, she messages me the next afternoon thanking me again and telling me that I need to kiss a few frogs but she knows I will find my prince! Aaaawwwww….okay, fuck off now. 🙂 She thanks me for my compassion and tells me that I saved her sanity. Yeah, well, glad I could help I guess. So weird, right?!?

Meanwhile, I have been considering whether or not to contact Suave and let him know about this. It certainly sounds like he knows, but I’m a bit pissed that he’s allowed my private information to be compromised and used in this fashion. On the other hand, as I said, he didn’t lie to me and gave me exactly what he said he would – lots of orgasms and lots of spoiling. No harm, no foul. Finally, I come up with the perfect way to both fuck with him and check his honesty & humor at the same time. I send him the following message:

So, Angel seems really nice. Suppose she’d be down for a three-way? 😉  Man, that was sure interesting…

His response was immediate and I can almost hear him sputtering through the text:

Who? No. Please. I’m sorry but I have to stop emailing with you. Ugh. I’m sorry.

I like how he tried to deny it for about a half a second and then just gave up. I also like that he said “I’m sorry” often. I opted to let him off the hook. Seriously? If this gorgeous, generous, attentive man is a sex addict whose kink is pleasuring “soccer moms” and “women with curves” who the hell am I to make him feel bad about that? He deserves a fucking trophy! I respond:

It’s all good. Apology accepted. It was a little weird at 1:00 am but you were honest with me and I personally bear no responsibility for your relationship with her. That’s on you, man. Take care, be well & best wishes. 🙂

I regret that I didn’t say something relating to Star Wars. Just to remind him what he’d be missing, right? 😉

He agreed, thanked me, apologized again & that was three months ago and the last time I heard from either “Suave” or his “Angel” and my new guy was highly amused – particularly about the follow-up text that I sent! 😉

29
Apr
13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonderbar!

 

24
Apr
13

but…but…I wore sexy underwear & shaved!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 




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