Cub – goodbye

I wandered off mentally and had decided to leave him alone when he sent a timely message asking when we’d catch up again. I was in a detached frame of mind at the time and tried to scare him off by threatening to spank his arse. He responded by asking me to bring my bondage gear.

We made a date but I cancelled and said I wouldn’t be in touch again as I needed a bit more on the contact side. Some days I wish I was more easy-going and opportunistic but I’m just not and I’m tired of being made to feel like I ought to be. I spoke to The Drummer about this and he said men (generally) would prefer to line up a meeting, get their rocks off, leave and stay clear until the next urge strikes, but I’m a bit more work than that.

I have suspended my dating account for the time being to take a break. I’m in e-mail contact with a couple of remaining prospects but one is driving me nuts by referring to me as ‘honey’ and ‘babe’ – why use pet names for someone you haven’t even met? Then again, the poor man is probably just trying to be friendly and I’m in a defensive and ferocious state of mind. The other appears more balanced but he might be lost in the fall-out of this mood I’m in.

Postscript: I was meeting the second man tonight but two hours prior to the appointed time he sent a postponement message. Car troubles. The Drummer asked me if he didn’t have any better excuses lined up. I was almost tempted to respond and wish him well with his better offer, but I just said, “No worries.” Next.

About the young single chap from the last post — 2 of 2

We didn’t talk much as we watched the film, but laughed at the same punchlines and felt comfortable in the silence.

As his hand started running absently along my thigh, though, thoughts simmered that I’d be up for seconds if he was. A few innocent-but-not-really brushstrokes of my fingers along his inner thigh brought his cock to full attention and I was impressed with the fast response; why didn’t I make the move earlier rather than submit myself to so many smutty gags on the screen?

We made preparations again and he entered me while he was on top. After feeling him labouring, I felt guilty in my passivity and suggested it was my turn to jump on board. He agreed quickly and we skipped to his bedroom to take up where we left off. His mattress was as spongy as the lounge and I understood why he was panting and sweating despite his fitness; too much energy was being absorbed by the base and not enough was being rebounded into upwards projection. I grabbed his shoulder with one hand and the wall with the other and tried to break the laws of absorbing mattress physics, however, the effort turned me into a sweating mess as well. I’ve never had sex on a waterbed, but this experience can’t have been too far from it.

He rolled around, took ownership of the top again and hammered away until his energy was depleted. We sat, looked at each other and didn’t know what to say — we were too breathless to talk, anyway. I was happy enough as far as pleasure received and I found the breath to ask if he’d like to wank and come in my mouth. He paused a moment – I don’t know if from surprise or having to think if he’d rather go to bed and sleep than bother – and eventually he said yes. He got on his knees and I rubbed his perineum area as he rapidly yanked the uppermost part of his cock and spurted a fresh quantity of semen in my mouth. We flopped back on the enemy mattress with a shared sense of relief.

The hour was getting later than I’d planned staying and I waited a polite amount of time before saying that I should go. He walked me to the loungeroom to recover my clothes from around the floor and escorted me to my car on the street. A quiet and affectionate kiss goodbye, a couple of text messages the next day and then an obvious silence hit the airwaves. It seems he thought he wanted something more than he really wanted it, but there was no real harm done. I was glad to have met someone new for the first time in more than a year and review how I let this one slip through my guard: hope, optimism, lust, all of the above – I’ll return to playing with my own generation and avoid the young pups.

Postscript: about five days later he sent a message saying he’d been busy with friends and work and he asked how I’d been. I reacted in the only way I knew how and contacted MB for his counsel — he messes with women’s heads regularly and his advice was to ignore Cub until he returns with another message. I won’t do that as I wouldn’t want that done to me, but I’ll wait a couple more days before responding. I was on the dating site tonight clearing messages and he’d viewed my profile so at least he’s thinking.

About the young single chap from the last post — 1 of 2

I may have had sex with him — well, twice in the interests of being accurate — so I guess he needs a pseudonym. I shall refer to him as Cub.

He wrote an introductory message explaining he had read my profile and why he was interested despite being outside my age boundaries (mine is set to 10 years each side and he’s under the minimum — I feel ancient). I ended up thanking him for reading for a few minutes before making an approach and opening my photo gallery. He replied in the positive and seemed surprised that not everyone reads and takes notice of the words in profiles.

It was at that stage my cynical side kicked in and thought perhaps he was mirroring what I wanted to hear (I knew that old neuro-linguistic programming stuff would come in handy one day, although wrongly for the purposes of paranoia and antsiness). Commonse sense prevailed and I thought to myself, hang on, he’s not shown a single hint of being anything but genuine — don’t be so uptight, and give him a chance.

As things turn out he works for my old employer but he started there after I finished. The Drummer isn’t keen on him for this reason as there’s a culture of immaturity clouding many who work there, but I’d already organised a night to meet for a drink and, ultimately, as long as I keep myself safe and let him know what I’m doing, any fall-out from those I choose to meet is mine to manage.

I drove to the hotel in a mild tizz, walked a lap of the bars and restaurant at an artificially calm pace and couldn’t find anyone who looked like his photos. I phoned him and I could hear from the echoing background noise that he was somewhere in the venue. He said he’d wait for me at the front of the main entrance so we didn’t miss each other.

I was in the hallway of the main entrance and saw through the clear glass a security guard and a man around Cub’s height smoking a cigarette. Shit, I didn’t check if he smoked — I still have flashbacks of the stale smell on Army Dude’s clothes and the sourness of his semen. Oh well, this man may not like my chubby backside, so shut up, go forth and meet him.

I strode out the doors, turned left to face my date and looked up into his eyes with a coy and hopeful smile on my face. And I then realised it wasn’t him. He was good looking though, but I had to end the now-awkward eye contact and hit the street at a trot before he asked why I was staring at him.

After another lap of the bars I returned to the rear of the building in case Cub was referring to the main entrance from the car park. My heart was thumping with nerves by this time and I decided to call again and ask him to find me; I’m competent at many things but locating people doesn’t seem to be one of them. As I raised my phone to make the call, a man matching his 5 foot 10-ish height, short brown hair and engaging smile emerged from around a corner. Bingo.

We said hello and the look in his eyes didn’t say he wanted to run for the hills so I suggested we grab a drink and sit somewhere. The bar we were in was noisy, the next one was playing the worst of 80s pop (and I am the unashamed queen of 80s pop) and I indicated a small lounge with a two-seater couch and some chairs. I thought the easiest way to check out his interest was to sit on the couch and see where he placed himself. He sat next to me and leaned towards me to talk, and I suspected all was going to be good. That wasn’t a bad move on my behalf; I’ll have to remember it for future reference as it’s much easier than meeting boys in parks and having to ask if they’re interested … 🙂

We talked about general things and I was thankful we’d worked at the same place to help keep the conversation going. About half-way through our drinks and during a small break in conversation he asked if I wanted to get out of there. I blushed, nodded and said yes, and then hoped he meant *with him* rather than just getting out of there (I really should be better at this interaction thing by now).

We worked out that I’d follow him to his house, which was only 10 minutes away. After I parked he escorted me in the front door and I had another moment of dorkishness regarding what to do next. Sit with him and talk because I have good manners and the rest will come at the right time, pounce on him because that’s what dirty old women online are supposed to do, or stand around in the loungeroom looking awkward and not in control. I chose the latter option.

He brought me a glass of water and I moved to the couch. He put on a trashy film in the Porkies genre as background noise, which was a clever choice because we opted to focus on each other rather than the screen. He kissed nicely and smelled clean and fresh with a subtle masculine undertone that awakened my senses. And after this current period without sexual activity, my dormant libido kicked in and said not to worry if he fucks like a faulty power drill, just get it out of your system, girl.

He had my clothes off before I could remove his shirt but he graciously allowed me to strip him to bare skin. Fair, hairless and a perfectly horizontal cock staring me in the face. I felt old and flawed in front of his unscarred youth but the state of his cock said he was happy enough.

We explored each other with our hands for a long while and he asked me to wait while he grabbed a condom. He reads profiles and practices safe sex — impressive. After suiting up, he pushed me back on the couch and slid into me with a long and slow stroke and my world stopped as I felt him fill me. Pure, simple bliss. We shifted to find the most comfortable position on the soft and unsupportive cushions and he loomed over me as I nestled my neck in his shoulder. The horizontally straight cock I saw earlier rubbed my G-spot and delivered me a row of small and welcome orgasms.

He stopped about a minute later and I asked if he was okay. He said he’d come and he asked into my level of satisfaction. My unbreakable grin was enough. He didn’t make any change in movement or noise as he came and if we see each other again I’ll need to get used to someone who’s relatively quiet during climax like me.

We laid about naked on the lounge and returned to watching the last half of the awful film. He sat upright while I laid on my side and rested my head in the crease between his belly and thigh – my mouth and right hand weren’t far from his hibernating cock but I behaved myself while we regained our energy.