And might still be new

I hadn’t heard back from the Country Boy for a week and was wondering what had happened this time. He’s not vicious of character enough to build up for two months and then disappear after one encounter so I considered a change of heart or being taken by aliens — the usual wanderings of a confused mind.

Just as I was clearing the emotional decks and thinking about my next move, a message arrived from his work phone saying his personal phone couldn’t be resurrected after breaking and he hadn’t heard from me. I don’t think I’ve been this happy about a mis-communication for a long time.

We’re trying to line up a day to see each other this week and build on our last meeting. A bed behind a locked door would be ideal but I’ll be more than pleased with a car in a quiet car park.

On to what’s happening with the blog, I’ll keep it open as I enjoy the thinking and writing but it will continue to be a quiet place. The days of having quality and quantity in this part of my life seem to be over so I’ll focus on the quality when I’m fortunate enough to enjoy it.

Everything old is new again

After he finished with a last driving stab he said, “I wanted to last longer but nothing was going to stop that.”

I said I didn’t mind because the intensity with which he was shoving his cock into me was becoming almost too much to tolerate. While I craved as much as I could handle because it had been so long, the reality was that I hadn’t adapted to his size and needed a break from the sensory overload. His orgasm was the easiest way of ending my internal argument about whether to continue or take a breather.

I came to my senses and looked at the mess below me: one shoe on and one discarded so I could get my pants off; pants half-way down one leg and the hem of the other leg held in my hand, half my underwear on and other half lost in my pant leg; glasses over there somewhere and possibly a red indentation on my forehead from being bent over a stepladder and using the top rung to steady myself. Some scenarios make perfect sense at the time (“Hey, of course you can bend me over this stepladder but let me just push it against the desk so it doesn’t shoot into the wall”) but look a trifle confusing on inspection afterwards.

We tidied ourselves and talked about everything but us before he said he should go home. While a little earlier I thought I was being dealt almost too much, I was ready for round two but the new and lower maintenance me put a smile on my face and said it was great to catch up again.

So, yeah, the Country Boy seems to be back. I don’t have a conclusion to write because I don’t know what happens from here. We had exchanged text messages for a few weeks and were warming to the idea of seeing each other again (he was keen from the outset but I was slower and more wary), but yesterday he invited me to visit his office as he was working on the public holiday. I was free and couldn’t think of a reason to say no, so I said yes.

Goings-on

I’ve been living my sexual life quietly in the period I’ve been absent from the blog – if memory (depressingly) serves me correctly, I haven’t had sex this year.

The Drummer’s libido has been increasing and he’s discussed that he’s here and available when I’m ready again. While we aren’t physical with each other at the moment, we’re close in other ways and I’m confident we’ll sort out an accommodating medium in our sex drives and interests at some stage. It’s hard to admit defeat at times that we just aren’t a match sexually, much as we try until he’s anxious about me not enjoying myself, and I feel guilty that I reach the point of discomfort and sometimes pain before stopping things if his orgasm is elusive. The oddity of our situation is that we’re struggling to find others to misbehave with when we could be having sex with each other, however, the lure of new experiences and desire to experiment with others can never be underestimated. And he’s just not into being cuffed and spanked and those little urges pop into my mind on a regular basis :-).

I met someone and here is my confession that I have turned away an attractive, bisexual man in an open relationship. Maybe I should be spanking some sanity into myself. He lives near the city and beyond my geographical boundaries but we got on well and met within a week of first making contact. He is the stereotypical tall, skinny, spectacle-wearing computer programmer type who doesn’t go for whatever demographic I fit in (rapidly-ageing, slightly alternative crazy cat lady) but we liked each other and spent an afternoon having lunch and wandering the local beach. We both had attacks of shyness at the end but kissed goodbye a few times before parting and promising to catch up in the near future.

Fast-forward six weeks and we still haven’t caught up. He had plans, he got sick, I got my period, he — I don’t know as I can’t remember, I think he left my last invitation unanswered for a couple of days so I made other plans. I ended up saying it was easier to give up before we start and he sounded disappointed but accepting. I’m not one for back-tracking and I’m also not one for being able to keep irregular liaisons going so I’m going to reluctantly leave him be.

I met someone else the other night who was a leftover from my last campaign. I sent him away for crimes against grammar* and for telling tales that he’s had fewer than a handful of sexual partners (he’s in his early thirties and I was in the jaded final days of being online so everything I read seemed to be gold-coated bullshit).

He kept returning, like a cute puppy that keeps jumping up your leg for attention when you’re telling it go away but really smiling on the inside. While his written expression hasn’t improved, I ended up agreeing to meet him as I picked up a few hints of guilelessness and honesty that piqued my curiosity. He’s lovely, he’s more articulate in person than anticipated, he’s as honest and unsullied as he said and, oh, he’s just re-uniting with his girlfriend but doesn’t think it will work out so he is in a fragile emotional state and not sure what he wants.

I don’t think he’s acting out of malice in meeting women (his on-again girlfriend didn’t receive the marriage proposal she set a deadline on, and publicly and promptly took up with his mate for six months) but I don’t think he’s going to be stable enough to corrupt, as much as I’d like to. He’s never had sex in a car and I doubt he’s ever had a tongue in his arse – is there anyone more qualified than me to give him some new experiences? I think not. And what if he’s never been spanked? However, if I can get myself back on topic, I believe he should sort out his personal situation before seeking new adventures and not the other way around.

We parted amiably and he has since thanked me for the chat. Appreciation isn’t an orgasm but it felt good in its own way.

* I rest my case:

Finding someone new 5

(The temporary) campaign closure

I’ve suspended my account to take a break while I’m still comparatively sane and enthusiastic. Here’s a state of the nation:

Five

The chap in the ‘chair didn’t get back to me. The ‘last date online’ feature on the website is vague and it seems he hadn’t been on since the day before I sent my last message. I was sorry to kill off my account before making proper contact but it was more than a fortnight ago.

Seven

He’s back in town and we have exchanged a few e-mails. We agreed to catch up but this week he’s been available on my usual gym nights and I just don’t have capacity at the moment to be flexible with my diary (I don’t mean that in a wanky way but my job might be ending soon in a nasty surprise kind of way and my spare time is spent either freaking out and not sleeping or laying awake at all hours creating a back-up plan and not sleeping).

He is away again at the end of this month so I’ll need to make an effort before he leaves as another delay isn’t fair on either of us.

Postscript: He was unavailable the last weekend before he was away again (and the days prior and afterwards) because he was going camping. He said he wasn’t usually this busy but his actions are speaking louder than words. Enough is enough.

Eleven (hey, all prime numbers)

We met for a drink and there were no issues with initial attraction or the goodbye kiss. The videos kept coming afterwards, though, and the last one was a masturbatory extravaganza made in four parts. I’m pleased that someone is making an effort for me, however, I’m tired of seeing his semen spurting over a shower screen, handheld mirror (do not try this at home, gents), hand, belly, bathtub, wooden frame and wherever else he’s filmed (I’m not exaggerating).

I think this has fizzled to nothing but I’m not fussed either way.

Postscript: I noticed the new videos were sent with me as a bcc (the older videos and general e-mails were sent to me in the ‘to’ address line) so I gather I’m part of a mailing list. And he asked if I’d be interested in a threesome with another woman he knows. I don’t know the general etiquette in this situation, but I found it offputting to be discussing a threesome when the twosome between us hasn’t eventuated. My discomfort is difficult to explain in this situation but I trusted my gut feel and let him go.

The Drummer laughed when he caught up reading the blog and saw that I had started a numbering system.

I replied that they’ll be given names at the stage when nudity is guaranteed or has occurred. I’m out of names much like the world wide web is running out of IP addresses and I need to preserve them.

Apart from this activity, Steele, Army Dude and NZ have been in touch, you know, just seeing how I am and, oh yes, if I’m free to catch up. I wish I enjoyed infrequent encounters with people I don’t see often as I could keep busy a night every week or two instead of complaining I can’t find anyone regularly.

Finding someone new 4

Nine

I can’t remember the words in his profile but they were interesting enough for me to add him quickly. We chatted and he was frank about the end of an emotionally draining relationship and looking for someone older to experiment with “because now I can.” He unlocked his photos to unveil a gob-smackingly attractive man. He asked what I was looking for in detail, re-framed my words to ensure he understood (good looking and mentally sharp) and then said it would be too much for him at this time.

Oh.

I experienced a sensation of still wanting what was going to be bad for me but I forced myself to wish him well and say goodbye. In thinking more clearly today, one of the last things I need is someone still coming out of a bad time and adjusting to a new life – I have enough experience trying to make myself feel good with someone to dull the pain of another to know it usually ends badly. He was also a good league above me looks-wise so the insecure part of me was glad that I wasn’t going to face the stress of meeting him.

Ten

I can’t remember the words in his profile either but there are signs I didn’t read them. He jumped quickly (as in not exchanging first names or any other generalities) to the times I was free and if a 5am meet-up would work.

“Tomorrow morning or early mornings in general?” I asked cautiously.

“Tomorrow’s good, where?” he replied.

How do I get myself into these situations?

Eleven

This man’s profile read well (and I seem to have a thing for tradesmen/managers who can still do fancy things with their hands) and we chatted with a view towards meeting. He wouldn’t have a new mobile phone for a week but suggested we meet in the meantime.

I wasn’t keen on meeting someone I couldn’t contact if one of us was running late or plans had changed. I am old enough to remember that people met successfully without mobile phones, however, I’m also young enough to know that people who meet from internet contact often say yes and then disappear at the last moment because technology makes cancelling so easy.

Regardless, I started pushing back when he didn’t understand that I wasn’t meeting anyone I couldn’t contact. I reached the stage of stubbornness where I didn’t give a shit if I was being reasonable or not, and he eventually backed off after I assured him that I was happy to wait.

Fast forward a week and this one was messing with my head. He sent a text message saying it was his user name, let’s say Metro Tradie, and not including his real name – annoying because I don’t think he used his name during our chats and it’s late for me to ask politely. He apologised for the phone situation as he had only just started a new job – impressed because he made the effort to contact me on his second day. He gave me times he could chat online at night so we’d be sure to catch each other – more impressed. He started e-mailing photos and videos – delighted. He started sending five a day – concerned about what I was potentially getting into.

We have organised to meet for a drink on the weekend so I’ll see if the pros continue to outweigh the cons.

Twelve

Added contact, chatted a few times, flirted, he asked for my number and said he’d call during the week at lunchtime.

Fast forward a week again and nothing. My spidey senses prickled when he didn’t offer his number in return so I didn’t invest much time wondering if he’d call. But the next week I logged in to delete him from my contact list and he was online and merrily saying hello to me. I didn’t know how to say, “Can you please stop typing as I need to delete you,” so I begged my leave and returned later in the day to delete him.

I now know why so many people are cowards when it comes to ending interactions as it was easy. I felt grotty and dishonest for a few days afterwards —  like a kid throwing a water balloon at someone and hiding behind a tree — but I got the job done.

Finding someone new 3

I have more rules to add to my filtering criteria:

  • Anyone holding a fish in a photo is out (I have no issue with people catching sea creatures as a hobby, however, displaying dead sea creatures in profile photos must have phallic associations as it’s oddly common)
  • Profile pictures with other (probably unaware) people in them are annoying but I give up when I can’t guess which partying dude in a group owns the profile. However, I have to admit this is a refreshing change from the paid site where there was little photo censorship: I once counted seven sets of bare limbs and genitals in an image and had no idea where to start looking for the profile owner!
  • My new bugbear is, “I don’t know what to write so feel free to ask me any questions.” Yes, I have one. When are you going to sweat over a few words about yourself like the rest of us?
  • Reading ‘I like to have a laugh’ or ‘I don’t take life too serious/seriously’ in profile text causes me to read carefully for other crimes against clichés rather than content. Here’s a profile that popped up earlier — so many crimes in so few meaningless words.

Nothing wrong doesn’t mean everything is right

Seven and I met for a drink and he was unaware he faced some invisible barriers: I was still caught in an evolving and unsolved work problem while wondering what on earth to write in response to the Country Boy’s messages.

When I’d shifted my mental baggage aside to focus on Seven, I found a lot in his favour. He’s in his mid-forties, attractive enough, appears in control of his life, lives locally, is free to meet when I usually am, can hold a conversation and seems genuine in looking for someone to see occasionally.

So, why was I glad he was taking off on holiday the next day so I’d have time to think about seeing him again? I thought I was distracted by the other events of the day so I ended our meeting positively and said we’d catch up on his return.

After a few days I think the real reason for my reluctance is that something is missing. I let my mind wander to find the reason — the grain-of-sand-in-the-eye niggle that I was looking for — and I just couldn’t find it.

Later, I was engaging in more benign and unrelated activities (eating an icecream, perhaps) and the answer came: I didn’t experience much lust when in front of him. I am casting my mind back to see if there’s been a man I’ve found attractive enough and given a chance for lust and desire to grow, but I can’t think of anyone except SL (which didn’t end well). Another part of me says this side of my life is grounded in pleasure and lust is an essential component that shouldn’t require self bargaining.

I don’t know if I’m thinking fairly or being too fussy on this occasion.

When the shit goes down ya better be ready

There is no secret that I feel a tiny bit anxious and perhaps even a tad stressed when looking for a new lover.

I was doing something benign and unrelated the other night – probably brushing my teeth – and the thought occurred that I was looking forward to meeting someone. The thought wasn’t bound with conditions or doubts; it was just a clean and clear flash of hope with a trail of warming optimism. I must have been brushing my teeth as I then remembered looking in the mirror to make sure I was still myself.

Of course, things changed the next day.

In less than 10 minutes I decided to meet Seven, I sent The Drummer a message to let him know I was organising a drink for that night and, oh, the Country Boy sent a message or five. He leaves me be for several weeks when I want to know what happened and then lucks on the precise time I organise to meet someone else. I have upgraded the firmware on my phone and text messages now scroll line-by-line at the top without opening them; the downside of this nifty feature was that I could see an essay of the last few weeks’ happenings unfolding, together with a never-ending editorial about how I had failed him.  Each line brought me closer to tears but I quickly confirmed drinks with Seven before I could change my mind and throw the damn phone in the bin.

I read the Country Boy’s messages properly: his horror year continued with a family emergency on Christmas Eve and it was the first Christmas Day without the family member who passed away recently. Once presents were opened and lunch was cleared, he appeared to have drunk himself into trying not to care any more.

He was upset with me for breaking my agreement to take it easy on each other and he said any meaning behind his absences was in my head only. He concluded by saying if I meet another man interested in a threesome, he’d like to participate (I don’t know where that came from).

I replied later that night to address some of his points and I also said it was too early for me to consider his request to stay in in contact. He came across as immature and still feeling sorry for himself at times and I need to maintain distance until we are more resilient. I would never tell him what to do but I think he needs to look for and meet other women when he’s ready, not for me to rub in how fantastic and suitable I am by comparison (although I have to admit that would be my ideal outcome), but maybe there is someone else who is content with what he can give.

To return to the initial point of this post, I met Seven for a drink that night and will write about that next time.

Finding someone new 2

Five

Only weeks ago The Drummer and I debated about a television documentary featuring a prostitute who provided services for disabled clients. His view was that she was undertaking a valuable service for members of the community who might face difficulties meeting others; mine was that she was selling a service like any other sex worker and by lauding her are we showing how patronising we can be towards disabled people? Thinking about this in detail raises many other views and biases: the truth probably lies elsewhere as neither of us has experience being or living with a physically disabled person.

I was given the opportunity to eat my words or live by my conviction when I read the profile of a man in a wheelchair. On the positive side, he’s local, of a similar age, I find him attractive from his photos and his profile reads as someone who has a positive attitude and knows what he’s about. On the cautious side, my mind wandered to how the logistics might work if we ended up meeting and liking each other. He has lived a full and active life but his profile didn’t go into detail about being able to drive, his living situation or the sexual side – nothing he should feel compelled to tell the world in a profile, of course, but I’m curious as there are unusual considerations and I don’t enter into anything lightly.

He accepted my contact request and sent a message saying he was looking forward to talking more. I responded and we’ve exchanged a few more brief messages but haven’t been online at the same time. I have sent him a note asking if organising a time would be easier, but he hasn’t been online for a week.

Six

A contact request was waiting for me from someone who sounded familiar. Very tall, thin, divorced, located in a suburb where I’d met someone before, oh, hang on … I scrolled to the photos at the bottom and it was indeed SL, who I met last year and never returned my last message after we had sex. In a fit of indignation I blocked his little white arse off the face of the earth, but I then settled and thought I should have added the request so I could send some blunt feedback. I wonder if he had forgotten me that quickly or, whatever, I need to let it go.

Seven

He sent a contact request when I was online and we chatted for a while. I haven’t felt this comfortable chatting to anyone else and we had the right balance of fielding background questions and engaging in playful conversation. He sent a follow-up text message after I gave him his phone number and things were proceeding smoothly, however, there are just little hints of inconsistency that don’t mean much individually but could add up to him being too smooth an operator. Another part of me would prefer not to get involved again with someone attached, which might be making me look for fault with him.

I don’t know. He’s going on holidays at the end of the week so I might have a couple of weeks to form a definite opinion.

Eight

He met the usual wish list and had ‘separated’ checked as his relationship status. I added him and he wrote a note thanking me because it was hard to meet women who wanted to spend time with a married man. Heh? I re-read his profile and the text implied strongly that he was not in a relationship. I knew he had lied about his status, but I sent an innocently worded message asking if he was separated and had so recently re-united that perhaps he hadn’t updated his profile, or maybe he was lying to me and not given me the choice to make a decision based on reality? I hope I don’t receive a response.

It’s less about his relationship status and more about taking away my ability to make a decision with accurate information.