He’s A Nice Guy (Pt 1)

I was thrilled to have an exploratory interview last week and when I’m not feeling like I will jinx myself, I will write a post about it. It was sort of like talking to adults again for the first time in months! I felt my brain turn on, the adrenal rush my best skills coming out to play.

The interview was early afternoon and I had time to kill between the interview and meeting a friend for dinner. I had been talking to a match for a day or so on Bumble and had mentioned the break. He offered coffee post the interview and I accepted.

Right away there was a good connection. Scott was very responsive in text and conversation flowed easily. I was looking forward to meeting him, and attempting not to focus on his looks. His photos were cute, but not especially my type. I’m trying here.

Meeting him in person was pretty much aligned with what I had thought about the photos, good-looking but just not my type. The bigger disappointment was height as he indicated 6′ and if he was even 5’11” thats being generous. I HATE when guys lie about height. It is such a turn off to me. I was determined not to let the height thing get in the way of getting to know him. But, this shit sticks with you.

We had a nice date and sent a couple hours together before I needed to meet my friend. I thought he was kind, funny, interesting and fun to be with. There was an undercurrent of something I didn’t like and I still haven’t figured out what it was exactly. There were NO obvious red flags which was refreshing. When we left the bar we were at, he walked me to the restaurant to meet my friend. He pulled me in for a nice kiss and we were totally in sync. It didn’t send chills down my spine but it was a good kiss. Ever since Douchebag Jim I realize the importance of a good kiss even more acutely. Jim’s crappy kisses that one date really stuck with me more so than some others. He held my hand on the way to restaurant. I was comfortable.

While I was with my friend he sent a few follow up text to say he was thinking of me and couldn’t wait to see me again. At that moment my friend was telling me how jet-lagged she was and she wanted to cut the evening short. When I told Scott, he asked if I would come to see him (same city, different borough) and my (silly but sassy) answer was “I don’t cross bridges!” He immediately offered to come get me for our second date.

Before he arrived he had done some research on bars in the area and had a fe options. We walked hand and hand to check them out and decided together they didn’t have the right atmosphere for one reason or the other. We landed up finding a New Orleans style bar that was ideal, and it turns out we were out on Fat Tuesday, so the bar had a New Orleans style Second Line band (think mini- marching band!) We settled next to one another into a bench seat facing into the bar. The manager was friendly and kept giving us free Hurricane shots (after 1 I was done and he drank the rest). The music was fabulous and I found myself just sort of falling back into his embrace as we watched them play. We both had massive grins plastered to our faces, between the kisses and the music the night was really nothing short of great fun. It will be a night to remember because of the easy spontaneity.

Of course, now that the night is late and we have been drinking, he is asking me to come back with and I agree. He is very clear there is zero expectation of me, just that he doesn’t want the night to end. As we know, this is the prescribed line at this point in the evening, and I expected it. Unusually, I believed him. There was nothing in his behavior to suggest he would push me.

And he didn’t. Not once. Nothing inappropriate. He made sure I had water on my side of the bed. He wrapped his arms around me gently. Yes, we made out (a lot) and yes we were mostly undressed. He asked if his hands could wander. He asked if I felt comfortable. He didn’t cross any lines I wasn’t allowing him to cross. And then, I wanted sex, so that happened. Again and again until we fell asleep. Sex was good and he knows how to use what he’s got. He is intent on providing pleasure and looking for my cues. We fell asleep entangled and woke up and did it all over again. We were both very comfortable with the other and he was in no rush for me to leave.

The most notable thing to happen during ht evening was a surprise I still haven’t quite processed. As we were fooling around, but before sex, I mentioned my surgeries and scars. Without missing a beat, he lifted my shirt to look at my belly! I was so startled I didn’t know what to think. Before I had a chance to process (anger was the first immediate thought) he said “who cares, you’re gorgeous, your body is gorgeous and everything about you is beautiful.” And, I believe, he meant it because it was so matter-of-fact. But still, I was so caught off guard and just didn’t know what to make of his bold move. We moved into sex after that so I didn’t dwell on it. I didn’t remark on it again until the morning when I said I couldn’t believe he did it. He told me I was nuts to even let it cross my mind and said he wanted to hear the story when I was ready to tell it. The reaction of the men I have had sex with is exactly what Dan told me months ago, no one would care. It’s me, I care, it bothers me. The trick is trying to get over not letting it distract me and Scott removed the distraction immediately.

We walked to coffee together and he saw me to my car. Before I left he was making plans for our next date. He works between two major cities and his home is in the other city, but he stays in one place for a few weeks at a time. I didn’t ask when he would be back again, but I know he is here all the time. He offered to get a hotel close to my home so he could see me the next evening (as his company is paying for a hotel anyway) and I agreed. I suppose that would make it date 3.

The thing is, I don’t know how I feel. I don’t have a good reason not to be into him other than, perhaps, his looks. He isn’t unattractive, he just doesn’t “do it” for me, at least not yet. He’s a nice guy, so whats my issue?

He is interested, I like him, so I agree to the Thursday date. If he could go to the trouble to work from my area and make sure he saw me before he left the city, it was a good sign.

All Kinds of Attraction

*Somehow the original was deleted and I’m too tired to go back and write the entire thing….so this was left in my drafts but I can’t find the original anymore. This date would have been the first in the non-drinker series and happened about a month ago*

So my first “non-drinker” date was John (John3). There are actually a bunch of things about John that would lead me to knock him off my list, but I didn’t in the hopes to expand my dating preferences.

This hasn’t workred before but I am truly attempting to be tmore open minded to what the Universe sends my way.

John is 6’, bald and interesting looking. He wanted to move off the app and into text quickly. Through text I found he had 5 children ages 7-17, is not yet divorced but has been separated for 6 months and living apart, was a naval officer and is a practicing LDS. He’s moved around quite a bit and all his children were born in different states or countries. His wife asked for the divorce but he claims he wanted to work it out and she was unwilling. He lives quite close. He has a very interesting job in cyber security and it seems quite stable and lucrative. There was no crazy reason not to meet though there were a few flags in there I was aware of.

Setting up the date took a few left turns. When we were due to meet he cancelled at the last moment but quickly asked to reschedule. Specifically for a day and time I had already told him I was unavailable. The thought crossed my mind that he wasn’t paying attention. He asked for a coffee date on a Sunday, another day and time I told him I wasn’t available. I was sensing a theme. He seemed eager to meet me.

Turns out, my Sunday plans cancelled and I let him know I could meet. Again, setting the time felt like deja vu because I had already given a window of availability. He suggested lunch and we meet at a local bar/restaurant of my choosing. I knew he was working around his kids and making the time for me, but it didn’t feel right for some reason. I ignored these few things. I ignored them because I wasn’t overly interested in him, more curious.

I arrived first and ordered a glass of wine. When he arrived there I noticed a few things (again, I didn’t place a lot of value on these things individually). He slumped forward onto the bar, arms folded. Poor posture is a real turn off. He grabbed my hand and rubbed it quite quickly. This turned into a hand in my leg. He couldn’t carry the conversation unless I presented the topic. He stared at me (uncomfortably so). And then, I felt it.

Attraction.

Slight, not glaring. I was attracted to him physically. Once I recognized the feeling I started looking for signs. What was it? His eyes, lips, mouth, nose, voice? What? Unidentifiable. Smallish hands made me think small cock. Not the best dressed. Still leaned over the bar. Hasn’t asked me to eat lunch yet. Hasn’t asked me one relevant question. But, it was there. Animal attraction.

So here’s something I’ve learned about myself. My sexuality comes off like a fucking homing beacon. I don’t know why or how but it happens almost every single time. And once my brain senses the chemical attraction I must be like a skunk that sprays its scent and it’s unmistakable. This is awesome when I’m super attracted to someone. Not so awesome when they are less appealing because it reels them in faster than I’m ready. I can tell the difference between someone who is truly interested in me AND sexually attracted to me now and John was giving off sex only vibes despite his few words to the contrary.

Two things happens that could have led to different paths.

The first was when I asked about the breakdown of his marriage. He really played this off as a sexless marriage. He made some speech about sexless being that they only had sex a couple times a month! Wow. He doesn’t even know the meaning of sexless marriage. When I asked him if he ever cheated because of a “sexless marriage” his answer was vague at best. He had a 2 year “emotional affair,” according to him. As it turns out that affair “crossed the line” multiple times – but to limit wasn’t really anymore than an emotional affair. He found may ways to explain off what he had done. He also didn’t seem to want to end his marriage while she did and he blamed that other inability to work through their issues in therapy.

Gee, I wonder why? You think she saw a cheater when he didn’t even admit to cheating? He reminded me of my x in that respect. I was disgusted by this, but not enough to end the date.

The second thing was he wanted to talk about sex and his prowess. This is a sure-fire way to know a man is only interested in sex, they literally can’t help themselves. I also know, as it seems to have been proven, most men who need to talk about it are actually not the best in bed. It’s more bravado and self-affirmation than skill. To have fun with this, I made a point of telling him that men who spoke abut this only wanted one thing, and it put them into a pretty crass class unto themselves. He acted all surpised and put off and made an attempt to not speak about it. But, he couldn’t’ help himself (as a side note, later when we were texting, he suggested multiple times I wanted to “see it” and I had to continue to decline photos).

The long and short of it is, he left and we made plans for a second date. I did not have a good vibe about him but was really curious to see what had so attracted me to him when he really wasn’t even my physical type.

We text for the next several days between dates. He was traveling and insisted he wanted to meet me on his way home. I gave him multiple opportunities to cancel due to travel, but he continually declined. Ultimately, his flight was so delayed that I ended up at the bar we selected as it was closing. I made suggestions for alternatives and he was weirdly stubborn about trying anything outside of a small radius of his apartment. We finally landed on something. But, by the time we did I was angry with him for being so difficult and making me wait due to poor communication (I understand travel causes delays, but he wasn’t clear on his status).

I arrived to the bar first again, and when he did arrive, bag in hand, he immediately kissed me hard. He couldn’t contain the lust in his eyes, body movements etc. He wanted me to pretty much guzzle down my drink and get out of there. I should have left but I was still curious but what sex with him was going to be like since I was so attracted, and that attraction was strangely and stubbornly hanging on. I don’t know why – I didn’t really like him as a person by this point.

In the end, I ended up in his bed. He was pretty lousy. He also had no cock to write home about for all his talk of 9 inches (and, no lie, he quoted his size). I’m such a size queen thats probably what got me into his bed! He asked me how many times I came and I was pretty quick to say “none because you didn’t really spend any time trying.” He then said he was just so tired. But, the fact he even thought I came was fascinating.

Talk about a delusional man. It was evident in the way he spoke about his marriage, his sexual prowess and the fact he actually thought he was a decent guy.

He fell sound asleep after sex and I waited until his breathing steadied before I dressed and slipped out. He text about 30 minutes later that he couldn’t wait to see me again.

Delusional.

I text back the next day to let him know that was never happening again! Nicely, of course. No one likes to be on the driving end of a crap message.

Was it another wasted date or wasted sex? Maybe. I didn’t enjoy myself and its the second time I had sex where, once I started, I was sorry I let it get so far.

(The Douchebag date happened AFTER this date, so I know I have shown slight progress in not having sex I don’t want. I am clearly still pretty screwed up with allowing myself into these situations to begin with)

Douchebag Jim

I’m giving away the ending with the title.  Oh well.

I think I could write a series on this one event, honestly  This one threw me for a loop.  But, I also still haven’t learned to write in an edited fashion and tend to write out every detail, so I’m going to try something different with this post.

This is a GREAT reminder that I should ALWAYS trust my instincts.  I could have done worse, BUT, I still didn’t listen to the little voice inside that told me he wasn’t for me. Before I was sick, I didn’t see so many of the red flags that I pick up so quickly now.  Now, I see them and tell myself “maybe I should give this person a chance.”

Wrong.

I’m doing that because I’m lonely and it leads to nothing.  I am trying to fight this deep seated loneliness (of course compounded by the fact I have no job and that makes me feel worthless) and I do better some days than others.  I am losing my tolerance for these complete assholes lately, and there are so very many of them in the dating world.  Which is also why I think I’ve given the sort-of-too-boring (for me) men a chance more recently – though that hasn’t worked well for me either.

I met Jim (Jim2) just about a week ago on Bumble.  We matched, we text on the app a bit and exchanged numbers.  We spoke quickly on the phone to arrange an unusually fast date.  He lives in the city but was coming to a town close to me for a business meeting and would I consider meeting him for a very quick lunch?  I agreed and found a place for us to eat and would need to drop him at his appointment post lunch.

Jim checked all the boxes, on paper, all but one  – he wasn’t specifically appealing to me because he was a redhead, but I wasn’t going to eliminate him because of it.  When I met him, I was attracted and that was all that mattered.  He was 6’1″, lawyer turned investment banker, 57 years old, moved to the city 6 months ago, 2 older boys in college, ex wife of 10 years lives in another state, charming, very educated, gregarious and ambitious.  Not exactly funny, but we did laugh together.  This was off to a very good start.

Now here’s where I am going to try something different with my writing so I’m not literally mapping out every minute of my dates.  Bear with me if the style is awkward, I’m trying….

Our lunch went well and we hit it off.  He asked me for the next date before he left which was so refreshing. He kept in touch by text, but nothing over the top.  I ignored the little cues I was picking up in favor of the fact he wanted to meet again quickly and I enjoyed my time with him.

So, what were those cues:

  • The kiss was off.  Not bad, just slightly off.
  • He spoke immediately how he wanted a travel companion for upcoming travel.
  • He referenced often how compatible we were too quickly.
  • He mentioned I had great, sexy legs when I was wearing an outfit that you actually could never tell what my legs looked like (with sneakers no less!)

The next day, during text, he told me he had to go to Denver for business and wanted to convince me to come for 2 days to go skiing.  I didn’t jump at the chance, but I did ask my entire tribe of family and friends and everyone thought I should go, assuming our next date went well.  However, I had a lot of scheduling conflicts I would have to move around (an unusually busy week for me) and I didn’t have any ski clothes that would fit, so I had to ask a lot of people to see who might have something I could borrow. We spoke about it on the phone a bit more and my mind began its machinations to move mountains to join him for a coupe days skiing, assuming our second date went well.  The bottom line, if I were to agree to go it wouldn’t be super easy to get it all together, but I could do it.  Skiing was super appealing to me.

The second date was easy too coordinate and came together well.  He chose a wine bar conveniently to where I was in the city (thoughtful on both counts) and had already chosen the second bar we could try.

When he walked in, there was no tingle.  For whatever the reason, I wasn’t excited to be with him.  It wasn’t intentional, but it was an internal let-down for me.  In any case, the night was young and we got to chatting.

Things that went right:

  • We both liked wine and he was happy to choose the wine and made a great selection
  • He is easy to talk to  and seemingly transparent
  • He spoke often about his family and friends
  • He spoke highly of his children and didn’t speak negatively about his x
  • He was full of compliments for me
  • He was publicly affectionate

Things that caused pause and then full-out raised the red flags:

  • He was overtly publicly affectionate, all he wanted to do was kiss.  The kissing went from pretty good to ok, to not good at all by end of evening.
  • He talked so much about his life he neglected to ask about mine
  • He was planning all our future trips together
  • He began talking about sex, despite the fact I prefaced (after his first comment) it wasn’t something I wanted to talk about.
  • He “just had” to tell me how big he was.
  • He kept saying “when you meet so and so”

So, I have to evaluate….if I liked him more would the red flags have been ignored?  I have ignored them in the past for sure.  I would have jumped at the inference in his words – talking about the future together.  But not this time.  Something was off from the first date and it just went more off in the second.

BUT I STAYED.  This is where I question myself.  I can’t seem to just walk away and end a date.  Perhaps in the back of my mind I was thinking that if I was going to spend two days with him skiing that I really needed to be sure, really sure.  At least, thats what I’m telling myself in hindsight.

As we wrapped up our time in the second bar, he explained to me that he had gotten a hotel room because his son and friends had camped out in his 1 bedroom apartment.  This was just weird.  I knew this meant he expected me to stay with him and he had made a predetermination that that it would happen before we even went on  the date.  It bothered me yet I did nothing about it.  We went back, had some street pizza and then I ultimately caved to going to his room.  I knew I had drank too much and didn’t want to pay for the uber.  I convinced myself that he would hold true to his words and not try to convince me to have sex with him.  I made myself quite clear with words, but the action of going to his room is all he understood, right?

The night did not go well and my behavior wasn’t so great.  We crawled into bed and I left on my top and panties and he left on his trunks.  We cuddled and he kept trying and trying to move it forward despite the many times I removed his hands.  Eventually, we fell asleep and then, at some point,  he forcibly woke me mid-night to try again.  This angered me because I wasn’t sound asleep but made zero indication that I was willing to wake up.  I had to physically roll away at this point.  Morning came and we once again cuddled , but then he took my hand to his cock to “show me” what I did to him.  I pulled away and got out of bed.  Time to go.  I had had enough.

Before I got dressed, though, I made an apology.  I had gotten my period and was entirely uncomfortable being in bed with him (partially true – though the greater truth was that he made me uncomfortable).  I also had horrid night sweats and leg cramps that evening.  I was just terribly uncomfortable all around and I did push him away multiple times, and not gently.  I apologized because it wasn’t nice and would leave anyone wondering what they did wrong.   I believe I expected him to then fess up to being overly aggressive with the sex but he didn’t.  He just said he was glad I stayed because I had too much to drink the night before and that I should have shared the details with him earlier.

He came to get coffee with me and get me on my way.  I asked him if he wanted to look at flights while we were getting coffee and got brushed off -I knew in that moment he was done with me, despite what I thought or felt.  Asking bar the flights was intentional, I had started to sense the change from the moment I pulled my hand off his cock.  However, he text me later than day to say he had a good evening and hoped to see me again which caught me off guard.

I waffled.

How much of the evening went sideways because of how I felt, and how much went sideways because he was really a douchebag?

Well, the answer became clear by the next morning.

I replied to his text within the hour and never went back to check until the next day when I realized I never heard from him again.  The text wasn’t in imessage blue but was green.  I  knew I had been blocked.  So I sent it again and it went to green immediately.  I called his number for verification and it went straight to voicemail.  He had sent a text to ask to see me again and then promptly blocked me!

Here’s the thing – it was all so wrong and I had the gut feeling the entire evening.  I was proud I finally didn’t have sex when I didn’t want to and I felt better about myself the next morning.  I should have been more honest and told him immediately that it wasn’t working for me, but I waffled.  I waffled because I am so fucking lonely and its distorting my ability to make better choices.

The night we spent in bed was horrible.  Worse than the night I spent with my sympathy sex guy Chris  .  At least Chris didn’t push me the way Jim had.  During the evening with John, I really got to a point where I didn’t want to be touched or kissed by him at all – YET, I questioned MY OWN BEHAVIOR the next day.

I was pretty angry to realized he was such a douchebag to block me without having the courage just to say “no thanks.”  I don’t understand a 57 year old man being such a complete coward.   Of course, it made me feel like shit and begin questioning myself all over again.  In hindsight, despite his words to the contrary, he was only out for the sex.

Me being me, I sent a burner text the next day telling him what a coward he was.  No point in doing so, but it made me feel better to have the last word.  It was a polite text, mostly.  Then I blocked and deleted his number – not that I would expect a reply – but to be sure I never had any need to communicate with him again.

There was just so much nuance to this date that I didn’t capture in an effort to make the post shorter, but thats mostly it.

What have I learned?

Trust my judgment, I am not usually wrong.  Stop feeling guilty for no reason and stop being coerced because I’m lonely.

 

 

 

2018-2019 Dating Year in Review

Time flies when you’re having fun!  Or not.  I don’t know how much fun I actually had as compared to my earlier dating experiences.  Sure, there were some, but these past 18 months were absolutely more about self-actualization as it relates to dating.  How dull for my readers.  Where – oh – where did all the ridiculousness of M go?

Meh, I aged out.  Need to be less ridiculous and more mature in the hopes of actually finding a partner worthy of the woman I know I can be.

Still, boring.

A slow start did eventually pick up and I’ve absolutely arrived at a point of control.

It took almost 9 full months from when I started in late 2018 to find my mojo and begin to truly understand how casual sex, dating and relationships work for normal humans.

Not sure I’m normal, or ever will be, but there sure was a lot of progress this year!

First 10 Men in review from November 18 –  April 19:

1. Rob (6’4″)– November/December

2. Brian– January

3. Joe– January

4. Jack– January

5. Matthew– January/February

6. Anthony– February

7. Greg– February

8. Jack2– February

9.Craig– March

10. Duke– April

Not much wasted time or effort in there, but at least one crazy!  I learned a few lessons along the way.

The next batch finally broke through a dry year without sex, and really had me focusing on what was going to feel good to me:

11. August– April/May

12.  Ed – May

13. Tom – June

14. Dick Adjuster (Rob2) – July

Then, suddenly, not only had the dry spell been broken, but my libido came back along with a healthy dose of common sense on how to begin to manage my anxious attachment:

15. John – July

16. Mike – August

17. Tom – August

18. Charles – August

19. Rob(repeat) – September

20. Dan (repeat) – September

21. Marshall– September/October

22. Jim– October

23. John2 – October

24. Jon– October

25. Dan2 – October/November/December

26. Chris – November

27. Tom2 – December (never even wrote about this date!)

And so ended my year.

In hindsight, the only actual regret I have is Mike.  I do still think about him.  He hit all the buttons.  I recently saw him again on Tinder, but if he’s available he’s not interested in me since he never reached out again – he’s one of those I wish would come back.  BUT, I also know its probably no good for me should he come back because I already like him too much and he didn’t maintain any consistency.   I still can’t help but think what did I do wrong here?

What do I see when I look at this recap post?  Almost 30 dates and nothing is the first thing that comes to mind.  Too many wasted dates is the second thing that comes to mind.

But, when I allow the negative self-talk to quiet, I see lessons and growth.  A whole lot of growth.  Maybe its the growth I need to find my Mr. Right.  Maybe I haven’t been as ready as I think I am.  I still struggle to refine/reduce my requirements and I still tend to be very attracted to the same “formula” in a man.  What if that doesn’t change?

I suppose I will be waiting a very, very long time.

Getaway

I haven’t been writing because the truth is there’s just nothing going on. And when I mean going on – not that I don’t keep busy – but my brain feels empty. I feel a bit like I’m disappearing if that can be a thing.

I’m still feeling sorry for myself for all the same reasons prior to the holiday. I ended up so very sick before Christmas that I almost cancelled. The apathy was so strong and layering in a nasty sinus infection made me just lose interest. I was surprised at myself, but that’s where I landed. The apathy created a hole I couldn’t fill. I was feeling like no one really cared what I did or how the holidays went. It didn’t feel important. When I’m not feeling loved I just want to disappear into myself and be left alone – which simply makes it worse, I know that, but that’s what happens.

I ultimately had to convince myself that I would regret not doing all the normal Christmasy things so I found the energy to be present and do the things. I feel sad that the woman who took such joy in these things wasn’t around. A little death, if you will, for the old me. I was there but not in spirit. I’m don’t even think anyone noticed and just assumed I was sick.

Without a doubt I know I need attention. I’m not getting it. Not from my kids. Not from my friends. No partner. No job. A total lack of attention coming my way. It just compounds how crappy I feel. I stay as connected as possible to my Peloton groups because I do get a certain amount of attention there. I’m developing new relationships that start virtually but which I can continue IRL. It doesn’t replace my true long term friendships but it does create a sense of belonging for me. There’s a part of me that is saying “this is a false sense of belonging, you can’t belong to society virtually”. There’s another part of me that says “who the fuck cares, it makes you feel good where you have nothing and no one else”. I don’t know which side of my brain is even right at the point so I do what feels good. It’s a bit like blogging I suppose. Here’s my life in writing and some people interact with me creating connection.

Anyway, not even the reason I started this post. I think you will be proud of me regarding dating. I know I have finally gained a little control over myself. Maybe without all the stressors and pressures of real life I can more clearly see the shit my subconscious has done to me with dating and I’m able to put Trixie on complete lockdown. Not having a feeling of desperation is a relief frankly.

I shut down the dating apps right after Halloween and maybe before Thanksgiving. Somewhere in that period after the last date I had sympathy sex. It wasn’t easy because I needed my ego to be stroked over the holidays and wasn’t able to have that from a partner, even if they were temporary or incompatible partners. In any case, I succeeded in staying off until last week.

I had met Dan around Halloween and we’ve been on a few dates. He doesn’t live here so I’m at his mercy for travel. We already agreed there was nothing more or less to our interactions than enjoying one another. His lack of communication still aggravates me but I generally get over it as quickly as it comes. He shows zero interest until he can meet me and then makes plans. When I’m with him he’s totally focused. We have a fun time. The sex is really good. His cock is literally perfection. There is no depth to our connection.

I caved against my better judgement and asked him what he was doing for NYE hoping he would ask me to join him so I didn’t have to be alone. He originally thought it was a good idea and then decided he would be home (or rather available) with his (older) children. However, he did tell me he was traveling just after the new year and asked me to join him on a short vacation before his work event. I agreed.

So here I sit in the sun by the pool after a weekend of sex with him. He is here for a week and I chose to arrive early Saturday and leave Tuesday. That seemed like enough time to spend with a stranger I wasn’t interested in cultivating a further relationship with.

It’s definitely not easy for me to interact at arms length. I want the romance and silly engagement a love interest brings. But I KNOW that’s not what this is or what it ever will be so I keep reminding myself not to attempt to solicit it from him. I am certainly operating in a strange space. There’s no hand holding, cuddling and giggling. There’s a little of it, of course, but it’s not the constant engagement you get when someone really likes you. There’s a huge part of me that keeps thinking “why don’t you like me MORE?!” That’s the part that wants to see what I can do to engage him more. My common sense has prevailed and I haven’t done any needy moves at all. Not once. That’s why I think you would be proud of me. No tricks. No ulterior motives. I give back what I’m getting. We engage nicely, we laugh together, have really good conversation and we like to drink together. It leaves me wanting more but I think what stops me is I simply know I don’t want more from HIM. It’s a little hard at moments to not be sad I can’t have a normal dating relationship, then I remind myself that he likes me enough to have invited me to spend time in a beautiful resort, all paid for by him, and there’s nothing wrong with where I am right now. This is ok. My person will come.

I can be mostly at ease with him and just talk about whatever I want. I don’t have to worry about how I’m perceived in terms of keeping the relationship. In that respect it’s a bit easier because I’m not always thinking around the corner. I’m just enjoying the time. On the other hand, I can’t be the person I am in relationship that I really like – I like that girl who fawns over her partner and has love in her eyes. I like that connection, the attention and appreciation. I can’t even leave my eyes open during sex, looking into his eyes is just weird. Feels wrong. So I keep them shut, which also feels wrong but it’s the only way I can immerse myself into the feeling of simple sex and eliminate the “need” for heart felt connection. And the sex is really, really good so I am enjoying it immensely.

The whole thing is weird. Not as in wrong, just a new, strange experience. I feel like there “should be” more and I feel like I want more, but my brain is actively overriding my emotion and shutting that shit down to keep it where it should be. It’s an extended booty call.

Learning how to accept comments for face value and not look for more isn’t easy for me. Accepting there is nothing more coming is a new feeling and not a comfortable place for me. However, just like exercise, I now understand I’m going to grow because of the discomfort and that it’s ok to live in an uncomfortable space for a while.

We get on well. He’s really, really good in bed and has the most amazing body for a 52 year old man. He’s not bothered by my scars or loose skin and has clearly told me they don’t matter to him at all. He’s super smart so I enjoy our conversation. I’m not particularly attracted to him so there’s this part of me that wonders how I am managing that disconnect so subconsciously.

So here I am, sitting in the sun even though it’s a little chilly, writing this post and drinking my coffee. About to get motivated to get a workout in at some point today. Not thinking much which seems to be the only way I get through these days of late. Like I said, I feel like I’m slowly just disappearing.

Frame of Mind

It’s been a minute since I’ve written.

To be honest, I don’t have much going on.

Not much is going on. My sister got married and I’m glad the wedding is over and the relationship tips back to normal. I realized I didn’t feel very good through most of this prep. In some ways, I feel like an imitation sister. I’ve been adopted my whole life and never really felt quite like I did during the wedding. I felt like a throw-away, someone she had there because she had to, not because she really wanted to. I felt the strength of her connections with her friends and felt like an outsider. It’s not me she relies upon or me she calls for advice. I’m not even sure how to cultivate a better relationship with her exactly. I don’t get the sense it’s something she really wants – or wants more of. I’m unsure what I want from relationship with her. I suppose it’s just one more person I don’t feel important to and this seems to be a theme in my life.

I was asked to do a podcast, two actually. One was about life struggles and how individuals overcome them and the other is about strong, accomplished women. I finished the first one and found the process super interesting. In the first pass, I understood the interviewer wanted to focus on the Mexico story and travel weight-loss surgery. I was able to tell the sorry quite easily with no emotion and plenty of humor. In the actual interview, there was a significant change to my story because all my emotions were stirred up (made for a very good interview). The emotions caught me by surprise. I have pretty much buried Mexico and what happened to me. The horror of that experience is not something I want to revisit. I acknowledge I carry a great deal of shame for choosing weight loss surgery, wanting to die and subsequently what happened to me post surgery. In particular, I purposely try not to dig too deeply because of the one fact that continues to haunt me: no one came for me. Even when I begged, no one cared enough to come for me. I was dying at one point, I was terrified, and those closest to me couldn’t come.

Logically, I understand why. Emotionally, I can’t address it because I don’t see any other choice but to forgive them and accept what’s happened. They made a choice the same way I made a choice. I don’t think they didn’t come to penalize me, I just think they had other priorities. I don’t even know what I would have done had the tables been turned. Which leads me to a feeling I’ve buried most of my life and pushes me to the outskirts of my depression – I am not anyone’s priority.

We spoke about this in the interview and I definitely had a hard time working through this part of the story. In the end, we edited it out because I don’t want to upset the people who were there for me. And they WERE there. Just, perhaps, not physically. I am worried if I were to ever express the truth of how I felt that I would be considered ungrateful. After all, Mexico was my bad choice and I should live with its consequences.

Since the interview I’ve been struggling with these thoughts because, like I mentioned, I’ve buried them pretty deeply and they simply only cause emotional distress for me. I also don’t see a way to resolve these feelings other than learning to accept what’s passed and move on.

But then there are days, and unfortunately there are many of them recently, where the thought of not being anyone’s priority eats me alive.

My long time closest friend, the Spanish speaker who translated Spanish for me while I was in Mexico, changed all my bandages when I was home, my maid of honor and godmother to my son, is always too busy for me. I never see her or speak to her and I’ve grown tired of constantly asking to see her. She finds time for what’s important to her and I’m not it. Now, if I really needed “help” she would be the first one here. That’s because she finds her own value in helping others. It’s great to have a friend like that, but I love her dearly and would like to connect with her more frequently than once a month. Mind you, I’m not working and I’m very flexible so it’s twice as upsetting when I have the time to spend with her and she basically can’t find the time for me.

My closest cousin, the one who was very busy working to get me out of Mexico and who probably invested the most time in figuring shit out while I was there, comes from a massive tight knit family. Her family will include me in many functions and I love to participate. I’m so happy when I’m with them and I always enjoy myself but I go through some sort of let down once I leave them. I find myself wishing that was my primary family. Once again I feel like I’m on the outskirts looking in.

My kids have really been much better than last year and I am VERY thankful for this change. I try not to push them too far forward too fast because, again, I don’t want to appear ungrateful for the strides they have made. Logically I know kids are kids and boys are boys, but I often feel that I hold no importance. I know this isn’t true and this is just my neediness. I want more demonstrative love and this is just not their way. They really have been good kids lately and I am trying not to put them down in any way because of my own neediness.

I still don’t have a job and there has been NOTHING to be found. I am so over my head in debt for the first time in my life that I am beginning to feel panic rising at the back of my throat. I keep telling myself I just need to get through the end of this year and things will change. I will find a job and be able to pay down my debt. It’s the first time EVER that I am truly scared about the debt I’ve created. People keep asking “what will you do?” And this is becoming frustrating. I don’t know. I don’t know what I will do. Am I wasting time not “doing something else?” I don’t even know what that can be. If I have to become a realtor I would rather die. I am good at my job and want to stay in my industry and would even consider relocation. There are just no jobs out there. Not even consulting ones. I am officially out of money by Feb 1st and have to take from long term savings to survive. This is creating an angst in me that I’ve never experienced. All of this makes me feel like I’m not worthy of being hired. I’m too old. I’m too expensive. (Even though I would take half my last salary). I’m over-qualified. I’m so disappointed in myself that it’s becoming very hard to remain positive.

Then there’s the dating, or better yet, the lack of it. Before I shut down the apps I knew I had hit a low point with my last sex date with Chris. I knew I had to stop what I was as doing because it wasn’t how I wanted to feel. There were two men, both from out of town, that I felt would make good on/off dates when they were here because I could keep them (or keep myself is a better way to say that) at arms length and not invest in the emotional chase. Sex with Dan is pretty good and we have a blast when I see him, but his communication is so horribly inconsistent I still end up aggravated. The other guy, Tom (don’t even think I wrote about him) started off well, we had two fabulous dates, and then his communication and attention plummeted. This is so fucking frustrating to me and puts me right back into the thought pattern of “why can’t I be anyone’s fucking priority?” Not even a small priority. I don’t even think priority is the space I’m looking for as much as just being someone they think about and WANT to reach out to sometimes.

I’ve gained some weight – which isn’t a bad thing but it’s fucking with my head. I had dropped so low, most would say too low for me, that I needed to regain some weight. But I haven’t stopped gaining because I haven’t curbed my eating. Even with all my cardio I’m not losing because I’m eating all the time. I don’t eat much at once but I eat all day. As you can imagine, this screws with my head after weight loss surgery. There was the sick part of me that liked being so thin. That liked seeing that low number on the scale. My goal was always 150 but I loved seeing 130. Sitting around 140-145 isn’t unhealthy but I don’t like it. I want to stay sub 140. That space felt good in my head for the first time in my life. I’m so sick of struggling with the numbers on the scale that I just want them to stay put. Weight loss surgery doesn’t cut out the demons. They are all still there and the effort it takes to quiet them is immense. The only time they recede is under that 140 mark. It doesn’t seem to matter that I’m actually in the best physical shape of my life, my arms look beautiful, my legs feel amazing and I love being stronger than ever and rarely out of breath anymore. The numbers on the scale fuck with my head worse than ever. Especially since I saw what I needed to see for the first time in 20+ years. That number on scale “helps” me forgive myself for the damage done to my body and how badly my stomach looks with its wounds and loose, hanging flesh.

Speaking of wounds, here was a little bright spot. When having sex with Dan, he gently kissed my wound. I knew it was intentional. He also made sure to tell me post sex that he loved my body and the wounds don’t bother him at all, he doesn’t even see them. I appreciated that immensely. I believe him also. It doesn’t change how I think about my tummy, but it does help to calm me down a bit, as long as I can get my weight back down.

So that gets to me to my current frame of mind: not good. Not good at all.

Not working, not dating, not having enough good, consistent sex, not having any money are all very bad places for me to be. My ability to not be depressed is quickly eroding.

I am doing what I can. I actively look for jobs and network. I continue to exercise – although I should be stepping up my game considering I’m unemployed. I bought a studio 10 pack so that I get myself into the Peloton studio and interact in person. I continue to support others in my accountability groups though recently I feel like I am being false. It’s an effort to Log into social media to be positive and emote positivity and gratefulness when I don’t feel it. I do logically understand I have much to be grateful for but I am horrible at making this a practice I believe in. It’s also why I push myself into my accountability groups the same way I pushed myself to get dressed In Workout clothes at the beginning – I will fake it til I make it. This is taking way longer than the 100 days I committed to making fitness a priority. Wayyyy longer.

This time of year warms me and depresses me all at once. I want a boyfriend. I want my person. I want the person who is going to make me a priority. I haven’t had that since pre marriage, since a childhood boyfriend. When I think about it I only feel more damaged and broken. There too many things keeping me down, and too many things making me feel like I’m not important to anyone. I know all about self love and it’s not working for me. Sure, I haves plenty of moments where I am doing a decent job taking care of myself and my family, but I don’t feel any reward in it. It’s. A horrible place to be as I think about this being the 5th Christmas and New Years that I will once again be alone.

When I Don’t Care Enough – Part 2

So, back to how I present on a date….I matched with a nice man and we text back and forth.  Turns out he doesn’t live here and comes for business at least once a month for a week.  He would be leaving in 2 days.  That left only one available night to meet if we wanted to see if we were a match.

The night I had scheduled for my Peloton classes. I am proud to say the thought NEVER crossed my mind to cancel my classes for the date. Two years ago, I would have turned my world upside down for a date. No more. They happen when they happen now.

I’m not for or against a long-distance relationship.  Its not my first choice, but I haven’t eliminated the options.  If the man was that good of a match, I could consider it – I am not tied to my location beyond the next 2 years when my youngest will graduate HS.  Even if there wasn’t a man involved, I do not see staying where I am forever. In any case, my thought process is so different now because I can meet a man for a date to have a nice date, have sex, and go home just as easily as I can potentially meet the man of my dreams. Now that I understand I need to just take each date one moment at a time, it’s much easier for me to disconnect my desire to have a partner from the desire just to go out and have a good time.

So, Dan2 and I matched and had been texting on the app.  We agreed to meet after my last class as he was in the city at a client dinner.  However, post my 2nd class, his diner ended early and he was getting tired.  Just before my 3rd class, he text that he didn’t think he could hold out til 10:30pm.  I sent a last text that said “I’m shutting down my phone as I enter class, I hope you change your mind, but I won’t see it until class is over.”

My 3rd class was with a new instructor who engaged with me quite a bit – she told me after class that the previous instructor text her and told her I was coming and I was cool.  🙂  Feels good to be a little on the inside so I soaked this up a bit before I remembered to check my phone for Dan2’s message.

He would wait for me.

Uh oh – I better get moving!

I was in full 80s Madonna costume – I had enough hairspray in my hair to ignite a Chernobyl size explosion.  It was crunchy and scary – how I did that in the 80s is beyond me.  Light a match and I would go straight up in flames!  I had on a lot of black eyeliner and a lot of heavy waterproof makeup (it had to make it through a shit ton of sweaty workouts!)  I had to shower without washing my face (I wasn’t going to potentially smell!) and leave my hair the way it was.  I only had leggings and a Peloton sweatshirt to wear with my trainers.  This is what I mean about not caring how I presented myself.

Basically, I take the chance he rejects me because of my appearance OR I have an opportunity to meet a man that I could enjoy the night with. I chose to believe we could have a good time.

Maybe I thought he wouldn’t meet me?  I certainly hadn’t given it thought before I left my home or I would have packed a change of clothes at least.

I was on such a high that I didn’t care what he thought.  He seemed to begrudgingly agree to one drink before he headed out to sleep before early morning meetings.

Ok, then, that’s good enough.

The confidence I felt from the evening exercise classes was making me feel like Wonder Woman. I could tell I would impress with my personality when I met Dan. I could feel the energy zipping through me and I aware of the feedback I get when I behave this way. It’s so interesting to me that I have this ability but can’t seem to call it up on command when I need it. It would be a super useful tool to have and would help immensely with all my body image issues.

I think you can guess, the night didn’t end with one drink.  I’ve gotten to the point where I know almost immediately when a date is going to go all night, or end quickly, but, actually, I didn’t get my spider-sense upon meeting him.  He was super tall, lean and “sort-of” handsome (honestly, I still can’t determine if I think he is or not).

Regardless of any of that – he was interesting  Really interesting.  The conversations just flowed and flowed and flowed and before we knew it we had each put a bottle of wine behind us as well as several appetizers and it was 1am. I truly enjoyed our dialogue and it was less traditional than many first dates – we just explored a lot of cool topics and he is super smart.

Here’s the surprising part, for me at least….not one kiss or touch the entire almost 4 hours together.  Not even an inkling of sexual chemistry. But there was an absolute connection. The energy had worked in my favor.

Very strange for me, indeed.

We went back to his hotel and the first kiss commenced.  I have no feeling about it one way or the other, it was a good kiss.  When he asked me up, I agreed, but still not feeling the typical craziness (or even drunkness) I generally have at this point.

Of course we had sex.  I didn’t come up to his room expecting any different.  But, the sex was different, for me at least.  I didn’t go out of my way to please him, or even explore him.  Just before undressing I stated simply that I had quite a bit of surgery and had a lot of scars on my belly that made me uncomfortable.  I then proceeded to strip down and out of my clothes entirely- a complete FIRST!  Go me!

Somewhere, deep deep deep in my head, I put the statement out to the universe and chose to let go. If I didn’t stay in my head full of worry about my appearance I would never enjoy the sex. I love sex. So I let go. When I took my top off and threw it to the floor, my inhibition went with it. He would have full view of the wounds and all the loose flesh.

He didn’t hesitate. Or I didn’t notice. Either way, forward we went.

His body was amazing for a man his age. Every ripple and muscle was accentuated. I have never been with a man as rock solid as this and now I understood the appeal. It was a beautiful thing to behold and enjoy. He made me cum very easily, and twice, which is also unusual for me. When he came up to have sex with me, and started to penetrate, I realized I had zero idea what his cock was like.

Holy fuck.

He was huge. My eyes rolled back into my head with pleasure. He was long and thick and knew exactly how to wield his instrument. I could tell he was holding back so not to cause any pain for me. He was big and we couldn’t go full throttle because of it but whatever we did was pretty fucking awesome.

Sex was fabulous and he asked me to stay the night but I just didn’t want to. I lie in his arms for some time before he walked me down to get my car.

The next day he called from the airport telling me he had tried to move his flight out to the next day but had been unable to do so. He also looked at his calendar and proposed several dates he could see me – not in my city, but where he could bring me to the city he was working in. He had clearly put some thought into how he could see me every other week. My old reaction to this would have been major excitement. Unwarranted excitement. This time I took it with a groan of salt and just discussed, rationally, what might work in the coming weeks.

He ended up suggestion to come back to my city in 2 weeks if he could.

As it turned out, he couldn’t make it back to me and his communication skills are sorely lacking. We had spoken about his style / my style before he left and agreed it could be a bigger block than anything else. He is single minded and focused on what’s he focused on when he’s focused on it. I usually hear something from him each day or two, but a text conversation generally ends abruptly with no follow up. We have nice phone conversations at random. Bottom line, he is unable to form any relationships based on his style and he admits to it. He can’t balance his life.

I’m glad I realized this and it doesn’t phase me. When I hear from him, I hear from him. When I don’t, well that’s fine too. We had a fun night, good sex, some amazing orgasms and I’m sure we will remain friendly for when he returns to my city. I don’t think he’s the right match for me in any case because of his typical communication style – it would drive me mad if the person I was seeing had freestyle communication skills.

Next.

The First Surprise

Ever since A week ago Sunday I’ve been pretty mellow. Whatever was eating at me, which probably included some PMS, has passed. I am overall less anxious.

I am bummed about Mike. Yep, I still think about it. Is it obsessing? I dunno. Maybe. I am starting to believe it’s just the way I process stuff. Maybe I can’t change that, maybe I can. I still really don’t know. I only know I can control the behavior. I made a last attempt, despite my better senses, and invited him to a party this Saturday. He replied immediately, said he was interested, and then said he had to see what his kiddo was doing. It took him 4/5 days to get back and decline. I suppose at least he’s polite? Ugh.

I also suppose that’s the equivalent of sticking a needle in my eye for a man I’ve only gone out with twice. I shouldn’t have done it. He’s past his expiration and I need to stop.

But it does eat at me. I just wish I knew why with these guys. What is it that I can’t seem to make it past the start? I don’t think it’s sex, I just don’t agree that’s the deal breaker for seeing someone or not again. I believe he met someone else around the same time as me and she’s a better choice for him. Or whatever. Who cares. I need to stop thinking about it.

Tom continues to check in mostly daily. A good morning almost every single morning and then a random evening check in. I will reply like I reply to any friend. But the minute I sense he wants to get sexy I just stop. Sure, I would love to go out with him and give him a sexual spin per se, but I’m not interested in the phone sex with him. He can’t seem to find time to see me and I never ask. If he says something like “I wish I could kiss you right now” I usually say “me too!” And it drops.

At one point over the past weekend, when I was drinking, he sent a text to ask if I was having fun. I replied that I was drunk by that point. He replied with “nice” and then sent a video of his daughter taking a riding lesson. I was seriously like WTF? I write back “Very nice. But if I’m telling you I’m drunk, the last thing on my mind is watching a video of your daughter.” I truly didn’t think he would write again after that little dig. But he did and laughed it off.

That’s the end of the better selection of men the last month. I am bored, frustrated and tired of looking for Mr. Right.

I was scrolling again but matches are non-existent these days. I was surprised to see my first match, an oldie but goodie: Rob.

I reached out to say hello and ask how his kids were. He replied and said “we should get a drink!” So I called his bluff and said “let’s go as friends!” He agreed. A few days later I asked when he wanted to get the drink? I was surprised he made a plan!

We met a week ago Thursday at a local bar and had a fun time. Since I didn’t have any investment in him this time around, I was able to keep the conversation humming along. If I had still felt like he had potential, I may have been frustrated he didn’t ask a lot of questions. He remembered more than I thought. When we left we have an amazing makeout session in the Parking lot. I could feel how excited he was. He felt different than last year, much more confident.

We parted amicably and I sent a follow up text later: how about we are FWB, it could be fun. He replied with an absolute yessssss and 10 exclamation points. Said a few more positive things out thinking it could be a great things and I said goodnight. He said he will ask me out again. That was a week ago. It hasn’t crossed my mind. But it was a nice surprise.

I think I can do it now, FWB. But only with certain men that have no long term potential for me.

I’m still frustrated about Mike and bummed no one can just be honest about what happens.

I know all of this sounds like I’m only focused on dating but it’s not even close. It’s just that I need to write about dating as it’s the most frustrating thing that I can’t handle alone.

The Second Surprise

Doesn’t matter to me that I haven’t heard from Rob. If he were to reach out I would see him again. If not, no harm or foul, it was a fun date and a great kiss.

He wasn’t the only x to resurface. This one may make older readers more nervous, but wayyyyyy back in 2014 the first man I blogged about was named R. His actual name is Dan since I’ve given up on code names I can never recall. 😂

Dan text me for my birthday, which was an absolute surprise, and asked me for drinks. I did the same thing I did with Rob, I called his bluff.

I wrote to him early this week to say I was available Thursday or Friday and I was genuinely surprised he made plans with me! He’s so flakey. I haven’t seen him in at least 2 years. But we have text and he knows I’ve been sick. And, again to my surprise, he was concerned about me – I had just found forgotten he kept in touch when I was sick – until his text came up again and I scrolled back.

I may find an old post and give you at least one of the crazy R stories because I would say he absolutely had the first exposure to Trixie. I don’t even know why he still stays in touch with me. But he does. And I’ve always liked him. I’m just OVER him now. He’s as toxic as Trixie. But he’s fun, oh so fun.

So Dan comes over on Friday afternoon to my home. The day is beautiful and we sit on the back deck. I’m an amazing hostess so I have beer for him and a great cheese plate ready to go. We enjoyed several hours together, and, unlike typical Dan, he was pretty forthcoming with his life. He’s in the midst of a horrifying and ugly divorce ( a lot of that is of his own creation) and he’s still sleeping around with women he doesn’t want to be attached to.

Dan was the first to show me how much fun a date should be. We would laugh for hours. And then fuck for just as long. We had so much fun. He became so inconsistent and I went into full Trixie anxiety mode. He admitted to me this week that he just isn’t a good communicator. He doesn’t care enough. I believe him. I also think when he finds someone he really likes, he will be able to invest. Dan is on his second divorce and has 4 kids, his plate is full and he needs to figure out his life. He doesn’t have anyone he shares with, and he needs it. But until he realizes it, he will stay stuck in the same patterns. I was glad to hear he’s back in therapy.

When he was ready to go, I walked him to his car. We had a nice big hug and I could see lust in his eyes. But Dan loves to BE chased, and (thanks to him) I realize I’m the one who wants to be chawed, not to do the chasing. I do know how he loves it though, so it felt a little like a power imbalance when I knowingly turned away. I really didn’t care. I met him as a friend and I was happy he was there, I didn’t care if there was any more than that.

Cue my surprise. He turned to leave, as did I, and before I knew it…he was pulling me back to him. Our kids was nothing short of fabulous. When I’m excited I have a kiss and sound that brings lost men to their knees, guaranteed. It’s never failed. It didn’t fail with Dan either. He pulled back and couldn’t speak. As he pressed against for more, his cock was so swollen it had to be uncomfortable. I just enjoyed the moment. He’s like the OG. I was enjoying every moment.

He asked why I didn’t do this in the backyard earlier. (I know him well enough now, I don’t have a serious consideration for that question). I replied with “yea, I can’t believe I didn’t because we could be fucking by now” and that put him over the edge. He could barely leave me (he really had to get his young child).

We both left with smiles on our faces. No promises of more. No discussion of anything. I’ve learned over a period of 5 years, Dan will come back when Dan is ready. It took me some time t accept it for what it is, but it’s all good. I like Dan. As a person and sexually.

The result of my ambivalence (I think that’s the best word for it) was Dan texting me multiple times over the weekend – telling me how badly he wanted me. Of course it didn’t start that way, the first text may have been something like ” you missed your chance” to which I would have said ” what a shame since I’m so horny. Will have to find a substitute for the evening”. 😂.

I’ve gotten more one line text from him than I expected. I don’t always reply. He’s thinking of me. It may last another day or two or maybe longer. But there is no promise of anything with Dan just like there isn’t with Rob.

I don’t care. He always comes back, as a friend…which is much more valuable to me. If we fuck along the way, great. If not, fine.

Oh, one more interesting point. I’m not so sure what to do about this. Dan asked about my wounds and how I was doing. We talked openly about my fear over showing a man. I showed him the lingerie photo and he thought it was fine for maybe one time, but said he would question what’s up after more than once. Then he said “just show me and I will be honest”. I thought about it, for a long minute. The girth, which I shared with him as well, is that I’m scared to hear him (or anyone) say “yea, that’s tough looking”. Once in a while, the softer side of Dan shows itself and he told me stories about dating two women who had reconstructive breast surgery and how he felt about it. He was honest and open. Was it strange? Yup. Didn’t it stop him? Nope. Did he go back for more? Yes. Because it didn’t really matter to him. Thats exactly the answer I want to hear, but Dan also liked me and fucked me when I was heavy, yes open minded about sizes and shapes with women. He’s not hugely discriminatory as long as he’s attracted. I thought about showing him but I chickened out.

When we were parting, and before the kiss, he ran his hands up my dress before I could stop him, and stopped on my belly and felt the wound. He didn’t say a word and I didn’t ask.

Part of me wishes I could trust Dan enough to be honest, but I know Dan and he’s more screwed up than me. I don’t invest any trust in Dan any longer. I can tell when he’s sincere for the most part, but I’m not sure I could tell regarding sex.

Anyway, the afternoon was fun and I just thought it very funny that he’s the one with me on his mind instead of the other way round. Clearly (over a period of 5 years!) I’ve been able to put him into a safe place I can control. There’s no attachment any longer and I’m happy when he comes as much as when he goes.

The Picnic Table (reissue)

This post is from Summer 2014. It’s still one of my favorite experiences.  I’m going to let you guess why I’m reposting it so many years later.

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Close to my home there is a beautiful reservation. Acres of acres of park and forest. And, of course, trails and picnic tables.

One night, after a heady couple of hours laughing, talking and groping at a bar (we should have just gotten a room, we were trying to limit it to “just” drinks for some reason) we figured we needed someplace a bit more private than the bar, car or train station so we headed to the nearest part of the reservation.

We were really like teenagers, unable to keep our hands off of one another. Sometimes it’s no wonder that I fell in love …. he was constantly enamored by anything I said or did. Was always giving me the most lovely compliments and was able to make me belly laugh like no other. Conversation never ebbed and flowed smoothly at all times. He was already able to order food I liked. And he fed it to me! He paid attention to everything. We were like lovers quickly.

At the bar he called his closest friend to introduce us and talk about a potential weekend away which would include me. I can’t recall how many times at the bar he would just stand up to come around my side of the table to whisper something lovely into my ears and neck, and then kiss me passionately. His hand never stopped holding mine. His eyes never left my gaze. He had a certain “little boy, bashful look” he got when I stared at him for too long. He would always say he was afraid there was something I didn’t like. That was never an issue, I liked to stare at him because I liked everything about the way he looked. He had the most beautiful blue eyes and a killer smile. His voice is smoky sexy and makes me wet just to think of it.

When we finally dragged ourselves away from the bar and made it to the reservation it was pitch dark. There was only a quarter moon in the sky and although there were many beautiful stars, the night was not brightly lit. The park was deserted. Due to the lack of light we chose not to enter the woods and instead stayed in the picnic area.

The area has about a dozen picnic tables for large groups and it’s perched just outside of a steep descent into the forest under a canopy of large and old pine trees. The stillness is beautiful.

As he sat on the bench I stood in front of him as he kissed my stomach and breasts through my dress. Small nips made my skin more sensitive. My dress was made of stretchy material that he was easily able to pull down to expose my already hardened nipples. His tongue, gently at first, began a swirling motion that caused my back to arch and I grabbed the back of his head to push his face in further, forcing him to suck harder. I am so responsive to his touch that I feel myself begin to drip with pleasure immediately. He continues caresses and then alternated between flicks and deep sucks on both breasts, making me wild.

As he pulls away, I sit astride his lap and feel him hard, stiff and especially aroused beneath the thin material of my dress. We are making out like mad and dry humping when I feel my dress rise high above my hips as his hands search for my sex. “Get up on the table, I want to taste that pussy. It’s always so delicious.” As he lifts me up in one motion and puts me down on the table (no small feat but he is so strong) he is also pushing my legs wide apart. He has two, maybe three fingers inside me now. I am begging for his mouth.

To be honest, I wasn’t quite over my monthly. I did tell him this in the
car and he said he could care less. I was not only worried about what he thought but how I would feel during this time of the month. I was so sexually charged by him at this point I had almost entirely forgotten to be worried about it.

He sits on the picnic bench and attends to me like a starving man at a feast. First slowly, savoring my juices, then more quickly lapping at me hungrily. I cum in his mouth almost immediately when he pushes his fingers deep into me, hitting the spot that makes me weak. But then his other hand travels around my hip to find my ass. Fingers slid into my back-end as well and everything begins to throb as my second orgasm pulses through me. I want him in me now but he refuses to release me. “This is my pleasure” he tells me, “to make you cum over and over.”

My legs wrap up and around his neck and shoulders. My hands are grasping the sides of the table.

I lost count in the delirium that followed. I don’t think I’ve cum more than twice in a row by another’s hand (or mouth and hands as was the case). I know my moans became louder and louder to a near scream of pleasure. It was at this point he stopped, abruptly, and said “there is someone walking out of the woods, it looks like a jogger!”

Later he said there was no doubt that the jogger, and probably the next town, would have clearly heard my orgasms. It became a running joke.

I know we went up to that park around 10pm and by the time we left it was around 1am. Hours and hours of pleasure just for me, with no regard for his own. He was thrilled to be so generous, claiming he loved to give over and over until I was weak. And I was weak, I couldn’t barely walk back to the car.

Not that I didn’t try getting him to fuck me in between various positions. Fucking over the side of the picnic table in the complete dark is seared into my memory. I love the outdoors and this would be the first of many visits to the picnic table.

When we got back into the car and kissed, my smell and taste was all over him. I don’t think there was a part of him that wasn’t wet with me at some point of the evening. Hours under the canopy of trees and stars, breathing in fresh air was spectacular.

As he pulled his car behind mine to drop me off we had a hard time separating for the evening until his phone began to ring off the hook again. Twice out til 2 am in the space of 2 weeks wasn’t a good sign for his home life.

That and the fact R sort of looked like (these are his words) he killed a small animal and ate a jelly donut. Again, it didn’t seem to bother him so why should I let it bother me? I have always felt “dirty” during my time of the month as my x was never interested and was a bit grossed out even at the height of our relationship…R made it feel so natural and womanly, made me feel like it was just a normal part of life.

One of the smallest and sexiest things R did that night was send me a photo a few minutes after we parted of my rings on his still cum stained fingers. I had left them on the seat of his car and had forgotten about them.

We had made our mark on the picnic table and planned to be back, soon.