Wednesday, January 26, 2011


Today, after hanging out with two friends, one confessed she had a crush on the other.  So, I was talking with said friend about said crush she has on our mutual (female) friend. (I didn't want there to be any pronoun confusion.)  As we were talking, as I was listening to her angst-ridden voice talk about all the inferences she makes. As she ran through all the ways she could see that our other friend didn't like her. "She definitely doesn't like me. But maybe she does. Do you feel the sexual tension?"  As she ran through all the different looks they had given each other, (all the underlying meanings), I wondered if I had just been in the same room with them?  Had I just been in the same conversation she was in?  It didn't feel awkward to me at all. I didn't feel any sexual tension. Am I just oblivious to the romantic nuances between others? Doubt it. The mind makes things up when we have a crush. We read way too much into things and we lose sight of reality.  Crushes are interesting all around.

Not only do we make things up in our minds, but there has to be a perfect formula of like, and/or oblivion in order for a crush to exist.  If both parties have crushes (and are aware), then it's not a crush for long. In this situation, a crush quickly goes from a crush to something else, like a relationship or bad sex.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

All Of My Boyfriends

There's a new guy.  Not just any guy.  He's not my boyfriend.  But, he is giving off all the early warning signs. We all know that when I started this blog, I was in no place to even entertain the idea of a boyfriend.  I was open, honest and out for nothing more than a good time and new friends.

I have gone on dates with somewhere around 30 men since the beginning of summer and the start of this blog. Some of the  dates have ended in new friendships, some have ended in sex and others have just ended.  I have walked away from dates, never looking back or speaking to the guy again. And, I have walked away from dates to return to the scene of the crime over and over ... Either as friends, lovers, or just daters.

Train Guy was meant to be a one time fling.  But, recently he told me he loved me and we have stopped talking.  I don't believe he ever loved me, nor did I lead him to believe that love was even a possibility. Lewis has become one of my best, most trusted friends.  I thought I loved him for a while, but now, I know I was moving too quickly and I was mistaken.  One thing I know about myself is that I can jump the gun and move too quickly.  The Beautiful One has been purged and resurfaced, but is now gone for good.  Todd only lasted a few dates.  The Player and I recently talked about making babies together. Not in a romantic way.  I was having some I'll never have babies thoughts. And he was just putting my mind at ease.  He's an interesting type of friend. We are not having babies together.  I talked to The Soldier again a few times after our date, but nothing ever came of it.  The Powerful One was scared away by the blog itself.  I wasn't too sad about this. Nothing would have ever come of that.

The Repeat Offender and I talk occasionally and we play with the idea of seeing each other again, but that was just another case of me jumping the gun. We got physical quickly and we created a false intimacy.  There were times when I had no problem drawing the line between sex and love.  Like I have said, I think sex involves some level of emotion regardless of where that emotion lands. Sometimes it falls on the partner you are with currently, sometimes it creates an internal conversation.  I had a one night stand once and the whole time we were together, the man talked about his ex. He even showed me pictures of her and a video of them on vacation. (For better or worse, people find it really easy to talk to me.) The point is, the emotion that our sex stirred in him was emotion for someone else.  Sex can lead you astray if you don't have a clear understanding of what you want.

Then there is Marlon.  He was different.  There was a definite connection. Sex with emotion. I fell for him and I didn't even try to keep it a secret. But, I never thought I would be with him. We had covered that ahead of time. There would be no relationship. It's not what either of us wanted from each other. We still talk and we might see each other again, but we will never be more than what we are right now.  I think he's amazing, but I don't want to BE with him and he doesn't want to BE with me. We are fine with things the way they are.

A few nights before I left Houston this last time, I found myself bored and I scanned my cell phone contacts for someone to preoccupy my time.  There were guys that I knew just wanted sex.  There were guys with which I had past experiences.  A few days before, I had gotten a flat tire and realized that of all the men I was dating/seeing, I had no one I could call for help.  No one that I would call for help if I could. And on this night, I realized that I didn't even have anyone I would call for a good time. I had reached a wall.  Maybe I had used them all up or maybe they had used me.  I have no hard feelings for anyone I have dated in the past months.  But, I don't want to date them.  So, I returned to my online profile for what felt like one last time.  I sent three messages.  One of the guys stood out.  They all messaged back within the hour. Over the next 3 days, I went on 3 dates. But, they were all with the one that stood out.  There was no sex.  There was no kissing.  There was a lot of laughing and since I have come back to New England, there have been endless hours on the phone.  I haven't been out with anyone else, but I'm not going to jump the gun on this one.  I will be away for the next 4 months, so all we have is time.  As always, I'll keep you guys informed.


Saturday, January 22, 2011

Hindsight's 20/20

Over the past three years, a lot has changed.  I've lived a dual life, traveling back and forth between Houston and New England. I've seen the end of a 5 year relationship.  I've mourned that relationship.  I've had one night stands. I've had trysts on trains. I've made resolutions and stuck with them. I've made mistakes and I have atoned, only to turn around and make the same mistakes again.  I've learned lessons and ignored them.  But, I eventually get the hint and I generally end up the better for it all. Recently, a friend asked me "If you could go back, what would you tell 20 year old you?"  The truth is, if I could go back, I probably wouldn't tell her/me anything.

I might hip her up to that warrant in Austin.  The one she didn't know about/remember. The one that got her a lovely two day stay  in a Travis County jail.  That would have been good to know. I might tell her to get her driver's renewed before it expired.  Tell her not to laminate her social security card. Or tell her that when she was 30, her mother would win 5 of the 6 numbers on the lottery, coincidentally enough, the sixth number was 6.  I might tell her she to keep being safe and stop worrying, until at least 30, because she doesn't get pregnant or get any STDs.  Or I might tell her to go to always look both ways when crossing intersections. (She would get hit by a car at 24 and then again at 26. I never claimed she was the sharpest tack in the drawer.)

What I couldn't tell her is not to slap him when she found out he'd been cheating for 3 of their 5 years. I couldn't tell her not to worry so much, that her GPA would be fine. I couldn't tell her not to sit in the front lawn and cry or to try to keep it together when everything was all changed in an instant.  I couldn't tell her that sex isn't love.  I couldn't explain to her that moving in with him to try to make it work was a horrible idea.  I couldn't have told her that even though it never goes away completely, the pain of losing a sibling does diminish over time.  I couldn't tell her that drunk sex is almost always a bad idea.  She/I wouldn't have listened. And even if I did, I wouldn't have really understood.  Because, all of these things are learned in a different way.  In order to get the lessons here, the challenges had to be walked.  Their is emotion that has to be felt and a memory stored deep in the tissues.  I had to feel these lessons. They couldn't merely be retold by a third party.  The rewards and payoffs were to big for that. These lessons had to be earned.

I know this to be true for myself, so I suppose it to be true for others as well. When my best friend, sister or mother does something that I find to be seemingly foolish, I know that it's not.  I know that while it might be a lesson I understand, it is one that she needs to walk through. And the fact of the matter is, I don't understand it. Because she has a history and experiences that are different from the ones I have. Her life is hers to walk through and my life is mine.  Our jobs for each other is to be there to listen, cry, hug and support along the way.  I can offer advice and help them reason, but I can't point out a solid solution or say This is what you should be doing.

This is easier with friends than it is with lovers, because we look at them as partners and we invest the future in partners.  We see their actions as an indication of what our future will be like. We lose a level of autonomy when we enter into this "partnership."  Lines become blurred and the idea of sitting back and letting them make their mistakes and walk through their lessons becomes a possibility for burden on us.

In past relationships, I felt that pressure.  I've lived with men and worked hard to be in a partnership, but all I could do was think about myself as a member of this "pair."  At nineteen,  it was intense.  I felt like I gave up parts of me to be with someone.  In a small way, I felt that way up until the end of my last relationship.  As I grew older I felt less and less lost in the pairings.  But, I could never really figure out how to be me (100%) while in a relationship.  So, I am walking through the process.  It is a lesson and a characteristic that I hope to one day possess.  I want to be able to love someone and be with someone, but it wasn't something I could rush.  And it wasn't advice I could take. This can't be learned that way.  So, if I could go back and talk to 20 year old me, I would probably just listen to what she had to say.  The advice and lessons from the past me are far greater than ones the present or future me could offer.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

What Was That?

Head should not hurt. It should never hurt. I hear people joke about really bad head and I think, These hefas just want something to complain about. Head can't ever be THAT bad.   I stand corrected and I owe all those hefas a huge apology.  I recently had a run-in with a man that could not give head. It wasn't even that I was just bored or that he couldn't get me off, but he actually hurt me.

He didn't bite me.  It wasn't anything that blatant. (I still don't believe that there are men or women out there that bite the genitals of their partner in hopes to get them off, but I keep hearing about it.)  This pain was sneakier than that. Dude didn't just chomp down on my lady parts.  He was sly with it. He kind of just eased the pain in on me.

There he was, fumbling around with his hands.  I was not even sure what he was doing to my vagina, but I gave him a minute.  Maybe he was going to surprise me with some technique I wasn't ready for.  Maybe he was just going to pull some magic out of his bag for me. So, I waited patiently,  with high hopes. What I got, was not what I had exercised all that patience for. His hands were like puppies fighting over a bone.  I wanted to say Just stop! 

Just as I was ready to put a stop to the whole ordeal, I felt him moving down. Okay. Here we go. Surely his mouth would have better clitoral GPS than his hands had. So, I got a new glimmer of hope. I perked up a bit and got ready for some improvement. It started off odd. He was clumsy. His hands were working down there too, but he wasn't using them to penetrate me. I wasn't really sure what the hands were still doing down there, and I was starting to get a little pissed off. When the mouth goes to the vagina, the fingers should either enter the vagina, or vacate the premises, immediately. They should not continue their battle with the tongue joining in.

So, after about two minutes of this nonsense, I was irritated. Then it happened. It came on slow and fast all at once. It was like he had hooked a vacuum up to my vagina and he was trying to suck my soul through my clitoris. Don't get me wrong, I like a little soft sucking. It's good. It's great.  This was neither soft, good or great. It was awful.

I pulled all of my composure and patience together and I gently pulled his head off of me as my body quickly jerked away. Sweetie, it's just not going to happen.  As awful as it was, I couldn't be mean to the guy giving me "head." That would just make me a huge asshole. But, for a split second, I wanted to punch him in the top of his head just as a defense.

Afterward, my vagina didn't feel quite right for a little while. But it's been a couple of weeks and its better now.  I have had talks with my clitoris and I have promised her that I won't ever let that happen to her again.  She understands, but I will say ... If I was ol' dude, I wouldn't want to run into my vagina in a dark ally. Revenge would be swift and sweet.

Casual Sex

Turns out, I am not a serial dater. I know. Upon realizing, I was just as surprised as you are now.  The fact of the matter is, I chose the name and just ran with it. I mean, it is what I am doing. But, I am really just on a mission to find out all I can about me. Serial dating will not be a permanent lifestyle. It's not who or what I am.  I didn't start dating again to try to reach a certain number.  I didn't start it trying to bed as many men as possible.  I just wanted to get to know myself. I wanted to get to know my likes and dislikes.

Originally, I saw this as a challenge to see what I enjoyed from different partners and to explore my sexuality that way.  I think knowing yourself sexually is important. Knowing your likes and dislikes will help you to know yourself fully. The thing is, getting to know myself sexually didn't come with a laundry list of sex partners. It came with putting real thought into what I was doing and how I felt about it.

Some sex is deeper than other sex, but there is no "casual" sex for me.  Regardless of how I feel about the other person, there is always an emotional process involved. I always feel different after sex with different people. Sometimes, I regret it. Sometimes, I enjoy it, but I don't particularly want to be with that person again. Sometimes, I love it and I want to be with the person again, but I don't get what I want. Some things vary.  But, one thing that remains constant is me.

In the days following sex, I am always in a different place.  I have to reflect.  I have to think and acknowledge how I feel. Sex can't just be empty. It does something to me. Some sexual experiences are more profound than others, but they all have some sort of impact.

If I have sex with someone while I am drunk, I usually regret it. It's just the way it is. It was still totally my decision to do so, but the fact of the matter is, and this is going to be shocking ... I make bad decisions when I am drunk. And I think they are genius. So, I try to do 2 things.  I try to refrain from getting too drunk and I try not to have sex when drunk.  Because, unless I am aware that I want to have sex with a person before I get drunk, it usually winds up being someone with which I would not have otherwise shared the time.

If a sexual experience is really good, I usually have to take a day or two to sort out my real feelings. I have said a thousand times before, I get confused after sex.  If it's really good, I think I am in love. Not really, but if I am not careful, or I don't take some time to simmer down and think it through, my emotions get a little tangled.

So, I think that I have come to realize that every sexual experience with a new partner is different. It's only when you start having steady partners that you get to relax a bit and just go with it. While having multiple partners can be great for sexual exploration and a better understanding of how I personally deal with sex, I think it is important to remember that sex (for me) can never be casual. I don't have to be in love, but it's an important act, nonetheless, and it can have an impact.  For me, it almost always does.

Friday, January 14, 2011

A Response From The Stranger

This morning, I awoke to this in my email. Looks like I might get my fantasy, plus a little more.  This is a direct copy and paste. 

"Wake up, Wake up! How can you sleep at a time like this?" was all I could think as I laid quietly on the right side of the bed.  I love it when the sun rises early, and gets me to wake up just slightly before the surrounding world.  I enjoy waking up, walking to the window, and observing the nothingness that comes with false dawn.  If it was spring, I'd already be standing in the ocean, rocking gently with the waves as I dream of chasing that trophy fish.  But it's not, it's winter.  It's cold outside and fishing is not an option.  A morning walk in the park is not an option.  Hell, standing on the porch and freezing my ass off while I wait for the sun to wake fully? Definitely not an option.  So what do I do? 

I turn and climb back into bed, why not try to get some rest.  I rest my head on the pillow as I try to convince my body to relax, I even repeat it aloud, "sleep, sleep, sleep."  It doesn't help and now my mind is as alert as my body.  I look around the room and there's not much there.  The lamp on the desk, the latest book I've been reading, the bowls of dog food and water, the clothes on the floor that I stripped myself of before climbing into bed the first time - in reality, it's just a towel, but it's a big towel so it looks like clothes, it's early still - and then there'

The debate begins.  Should I wake you? How will you respond? How'd this go for me last time? What are your plans for the day? Will you get back to sleep? Am I worth waking you before you need to be awake? I sit quietly in thought and let my mind race, accompanied by a long, deep sigh, and it hit's me, "you can't win if you don't play"...I'm on to phase 2, the how...

I haven't done this in a while so I'm short of ideas.  Who doesn't like the back of their neck kissed? Or the area behind your ear lobe where your ear touches your neck? Or a gentle bite on their collar bone? That's too easy tho, I know I'll wake you with one of them, but I don't want to.  I need to get creative, something new, something that will wake you but not too much.  You're stretched out beautifully, beneath a blanket, legs bent up as though you were posing for Playboy, arms wrapped around your smaller pillow because I'm just too big and you enjoy being wrapped tight in my arms each night.  I remove the blanket from your body and rest it towards the end of the bed.  I lay next to you.  The room is cold but you can sense my warmth as you slowly move towards me, pressing your chest against my back and tucking your ass into my crotch.  A cute, gentle squiggle and your back to sleep, this time with my breaths rushing down your neck, laying on one of my arms.  I lift you up as I reach for the sheet, it's now cold and it bothers you just enough to make you moan quietly in disapproval, but you press against me again, this time even harder and I wrap both arms around you and give you a squeeze.

Your back to the window, I run my hand down your left thigh, and cup your left breast with my other. I pull you closer and take a deep breath of you, your hair and skin smells amazing and arouses me even further, now that dick that's been resting between your thighs is growing, slowly splitting your thighs and moving naturally up towards your pussy.  I want you to be wet, and I'm not using anything artificial.  I want you moaning, and dripping before I slide my hard dick in your tight wet pussy.  I continue to run my hands along your thighs and squeezing your breasts, tickling your nipples, and running my hands down your stomach, avoiding your pussy at all costs.  Your eyes are still closed and your mouth is still quiet, nothing from the back of your throat has cum out yet. I grow more excited.  You know I'm here, yet you're not responding.  I move back and forward just a bit, to rub my dick on the insides of both of your thighs and already, your butter soft skin has convinced the my dick to release just a tiny drop of precum.  I feel it as I continue to move back and forth, the amount increasing dramatically.  If I keep going, I won't need sex because the cum will be all over your thighs, but that's not what I want, is it?

You stir. You're awake.  You haven't turned, you haven't made a noise, but you're awake.  Now the real fun can begin.  You switch the position of your legs.  Your once straight right leg is now bending upward, and our bent left thigh is not straightening.  I know you feel me and I know you feel the clue I've left on your thighs.  I know you feel my hand on your breast and I go crazy when you take your left foot and slide it behind you, up against my leg and down to my ankle.  Your pretty feet push me over the edge, I have to know how long you've been awake, I have to be inside of you, I have to, have to, have reach down between your thighs and run your nails across my head gently, it almost spits as you continue to brush your nails back and forth. You rub my fluids back on me, a wonderful lubrication and you place all five fingernails at the base of the head, moving up slowly to the tip and back down the shaft.  My body tenses as I pull you even closer.......

I open my eyes, it's still dark out...what happened to my sunrise? What happened to my blanket? Where did you go? I reach down and my body remembers you being here, the precum is still oozing.  The sheets don't show you've slept here, I don't think you left in the night.  Then I release the pillow.  I roll over onto my back, I trace the hair on my chest and stomach down to my dick.  One slow, long, firm stroke and i want more, but why waste it? I'll see you shortly, just say the word......

I hope you enjoy your day :) And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll even hear from you.

The Stranger

Thursday, January 13, 2011


Sex is something that used to happen in person.  A man and a woman, a woman and a woman, a man and a man or a group of folks used to have to be face to face or face to ??? in order to have sex. Then, technology started to see advances. It started quickly.  I am sure of it. Only days after the first cave drawing, some guy was asking his gal to hold still so he could etch her form into the wall of their one-bedroom cave.  That way he could look at her and rub one out while she was out with her girls cleaning fish or an elk or something.  (I don't know this to be fact, but I am almost willing to bet an ovary on it.)

Since the beginning of literature, there have been forms of erotica.  We might read it today and think "What tha?"  But, at the time, it was provocative and steamy. And, since the beginning of the photograph, people have been taking pics of genitalia. Google it and get ready to see the fullest bushes you have ever seen. It's great for "us," because it's a look at the history of erotica and porn. It was great for "them," because it was something to look at while they spanked it.

Soon, there would be moving pictures and not long after, there was silent pornography. Since, we have seen pornographic magazines, mass-print erotica and millions of millions of pornographic "films." And that was just up to the early 90's.

The past 15 years have brought about a plethora of new ways to see and experience sex without being in the presence of another person.  A combination of the internet and cell phones have brought us endless ways of sharing ourselves with others. Now, we can log on and watch strangers have sex or masturbate.  For the right price, we can even direct the porn we are watching, typing instructions from the comfort of our own beds and watching the story unfold somewhere on the other end.  I can snap a picture of my breasts and have it on the internet in 2 minutes. I can snap a picture of my vagina and have it sent to a man in one minute.

And, I have. I am guilty of sexting. I have sent nude photos and videos of myself out to men.  I don't know many women and men that don't do it. (Though I know there are women and men that would NEVER. There is no need to send an email or write a comment. I know you nonsexters are out there.)  I keep my face out of the pics for the most part, but I have tattoos and birthmarks that clearly show it's me. For a select few special men, I have sent a full nude with face included. But, for the most part, I leave men to play the role of a mental Frankenstein, working to piece it all together.

I am both a photographer and a writer, so my sexting doesn't end with the sending of nude pictures and videos via text and email.  I have shared stories of fantasies with the readers of this blog and I have traded erotica with men via email. The exchange of words is a huge turn on to me. I don't do it often.  I have had the rare experience of sending some pretty intense messages via Twitter DM. (This only happened once and it was a big surprise.) And, I have had one man write an erotic response to a post I wrote about him. I actually got that email tonight and it was a great surprise. I am sort of feeling this guy something extra.

In the end, sending naked pictures and videos of myself around to multiple men is probably not the smartest thing I have ever done.  I have a phone full of my naked body and the bodies of numerous men.  (I actually just went through and deleted all of them accept the ones of the email author mentioned above. Like I said, he's the current crush.)  So, maybe it's a bad idea.  But, just like I own my actions and my words, I also own my likeness and the idea to send it out to men (and more recently allow it to be published in a magazine) is my decision to make. I would hate to see myself on, but I can't control that, at this point.  It would feel like a violation if someone posted or made public the nudes of me, but it happens.  People have wound up nude on the internet in more deceptive ways.

So, I am sure if I should (for some unlikely reason) find fame in the future or if I should attempt to run for office, the pics of me in the bathtub will surface.  There might even be a video or two.  I will deal with that day if it comes.  But, for now, I will continue sending out pictures and getting pictures in return from the men I miss or am curious about.  I have done very few things that I regret.  All of the things that I have regretted ended in me hurting another person. Never, have I regretted something in my life because it embarrassed me.  Embarrassment happens.  The main thing I think about is "could these pictures ever hurt anyone?" The odds of that are very slim.  So, for now, I am going to adjust the lighting, get a good angle and press Send.


Hey folks. I need your help. I can only go on so many dates.  In the interim, I want to hear your stories of dating, love, relationships and life. Send stories to

*That's Poly(dot)Amory double zero at Gmail(dot)com. 


Everything has a time and place.  But, sex has many times and many places.  At least, that's how it works in my life.  There are times when you lay down in a bed with a person and you take your time. This is like a meal.  It's plentiful, there is a generous quantity.  You enjoy every aspect of it.  Then there are snacks.  These, you fit in when and where you can. I am a huge fan of the meal and the snack. As far as snacking goes, I have had sex in a:

  • stairwell at work
  • restaurant where I worked
  • car
  • dark room
  • restroom at a sushi restaurant 
  • restroom at a club
  • restroom at a bar
  • construction site
  • flat bed trailer 
  • tent
  • porch
  • a hot tub (highly overrated)
  • shower (the better water choice)
In order to get one in, I have snuck off during such events as:
  • dinner with friends
  • lunch hours
  • office meetings
  • vacations
  • business luncheons
  • class
  • parties
  • and many many more
I am not alone in this.  People like to have sex. They don't necessarily want to do it between the hours of 5:15pm and 7:15am (though these are great times too.) So, that is why God created the "Noon'er."  Lunch hour sex is great.  But, if I was going to rate my sexual experiences, I would have to create categories, because I have yet to have a quickie that could compete with an all-nighter. That's just me.  It's exciting. It's different. But, against a full length session, it can't compare. In my personal opinion, nothing can compare to a long night with a lover. 

But, quickies aren't like that. They are like your favorite snack. You wouldn't stop eating peanut butter, just because you liked steak and potatoes more.  You just eat them at different times. They serve different purposes. Some people say I don't like quickies and to me, that is like saying I don't snack. I believe both statements are true for the person saying them, they are just foreign to me. 

Sometimes I snack just because it's what I want. I don't want a whole meal. Sometimes, I settle for a snack when I would prefer to devour a 3 course meal, because snacking is the only option. I remember one snack in particular.  I drove all the way across town, in the middle of the day to have sex with a guy that presumably didn't work a traditional 9 - 5 job. We had to make it a midday rendezvous because neither of us had our own place. I was living in New England (and just visiting Texas) and he was only 21 and still lived with his parents. (Let us not even address that part of it.  That's another post altogether.)  So, our only options were to get a hotel, get an hourly or for me to go to his parent's house in the middle of the day and have a quick go at it.  So, we chose the latter. We went for the snack, because it was really all that afforded us. 

There were other options, but I don't really think either of us wanted a whole night together. So, for whatever reasons, we just went for the snack. And it was good.  It was fine. It was not really anything to write home about. I would say that for his age, he was a fantastic lover. And, for any age, he had a huge dick.  Ole' dude was in good shape. He will make some woman very happy one day.  But, for me, he was just a snack.  

*Good thing neither of us worked, or else I wouldn't have been able to have sex with him at his parents' house while they were at work.  Sometimes life is funny like that. 

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Confessions Of A Video Victim

I have recently been listening to excerpts from Karrine Steffans' Confessions of a Video Vixen. My sister is listening to the book on tape, so when we are in the car together, I get to catch some of the tragedies and misdoings that have made up the mistreated Karrine's life thus far. As I listen to her little voice, I can't help but feel ... what's the word ... annoyed. Very very annoyed.

I am not, by any means, under the impression that Superhead is not smart.  She is very smart.  I have no doubt that she would never care about the things that I (or anyone else) have to say about her. I am pretty sure that she doesn't care about what many people say. She has a lot figured out. In her book, she tells ALL. I am not one to speak ill of a tell-all. I share way more than people think should be shared. I get it. And I get judged for things that I never even anticipated getting judged for. People will always find something to judge others on. That is just part of life.

So, I am not judging her.  I have neither the room, nor the want to to pass judgment on anyone for their choices.  I suppose my only complaint is that they are her choices and she tends to shrug them off as mere consequences of life.  She doesn't really own any of her decisions.  Life can take you into a lot of things, but I don't believe it can drag you kicking and screaming the whole way. I think we do a lot of the walking to get to most of the places we wind up.

I think it is important that we own our decisions.  Bad stuff does happen to people.  I don't think we have to take responsibility for all the bad shit that happens. It's true that some people are dealt really shitty hands and life is really really shitty to some people. But, there are certain times when each of us are faced with decisions and we make up our minds to act in one way or another. When you are on that stage and men are slipping dollars into your draws, no matter what circumstances led you to this place in life, it's your decision to step off that stage and go in the back to suck dick instead of making that stage money.

She admittedly decided to stay with Cool G Rap, because she wanted his money. She wanted to live in his home and she said in the book that his house was not as nice as what she had become accustomed to, but it would do. So, she could have just said I was with him for the money, instead of saying in a little voice that she called his mother "Mom," knowing damn well that she called his mother "Mom" for the same reason she called him "Daddy." She did it for the money. She didn't do it because she felt a familial bond.

She did everything she did for money and when she was done using everyone for their money, she wrote a tell-all sob story.  She didn't write it to shed light on domestic violence. She had never had interest in telling helpful stories to uplift women. And that is fine.  If you are going to tell everyone's name and spread other people's business, then do it and make that money, but don't pepper it with sob stories to try to sugar coat it. In my opinion, life is what it is. Parts of life are very very sad, but those sad parts don't allow for you to make decisions, call them mistakes and sell others out in the process. So, why try to rationalize it that way?

Like I said, I don't judge her for stripping.  I don't judge her for selling sex.  I don't even judge her for writing a tell-all book. (I could not imagine telling the names of the men I sleep with or putting them out there like that. Sharing my business is hard enough, but to put others' business out there must be a difficult decision.)

I do, however, think it makes women look really bad when one takes the role of the opportunist for an entire lifetime and then justifies it by wearing the cloak of the victim. She was used and she used.  I don't think the men that paid her for sex are saints or necessarily worth defending.  That was an agreement they made. They put themselves out there.  But, she wanted more than a roof over her head.  She wanted a certain lifestyle and she used sex and notoriety to get it.  I am not mad at her for that. People were willing to sleep with her for large amounts of money.  But, at some point, she wasn't the poor 17 year old trying to make money to eat.  She was working her way to A top.  It wasn't necessarily THE top, but it was something.   That was her path and her decision.  But, the least she could do is own her shit and say "Look at how brilliant I was in my fuckery."  Instead of saying "Look at how mistreated I was by everyone. I had to do the things I did, because I am just a woman and what else would a silly feeble-minded woman do?" Her's was not a story of survival.  It was a story of fame.

With all judgment aside, Karrine Steffans annoys me. She doesn't own her story.  She tells it, but she tells it as a passive innocent bystander.  As women, as people, that's not what we are in life.  We are active participants in our lives.  I always just thought ... "Well, she gave good head and dudes liked it and she gave em up in a book. No harm, no foul," until I heard her tell her story in that book. She's a bold woman with a big, grandiose story. But, she tells it in a small voice and, quite frankly, I don't think bold women should speak in small voices.

Monday, January 10, 2011

The Stranger - Part 2 (Graphic)

I began to slide down onto him and he stopped me at chest level and slid his fingers into me one more time. He took them out and I slid down and onto his dick. He pushed himself into me slowly and slid his fingers into my mouth. My mouth immediately began sucking again and I imagined that he was in my mouth again briefly, then he was all the way inside me.  I lifted off and pushed back onto him until he was deep inside. I did this a few times, with my whole body writhing against his and I could feel my own wetness on his chest and then on mine.

He slid his fingers out of my mouth and they lightly wrapped around my throat. He pushed me up and his hand slid down to my breast. His other hand joined and he held me up tall on him. I knew what was coming, so I tensed around him and braced. He pushed hard into me and I tried to fall back onto his chest. But, he caught my weight and pushed me back up straight. He was so deep it hurt, but I never thought of asking him to stop. He felt too good inside me. As he held me tall on him, he pushed himself into me and I lifted off of him. As he watched my body bouncing on top of his, I felt myself clenching around him and as I grew tighter, I came. My body hardened and tensed and he let me fall. My hands grasped his chest and I pushed back onto him as hard as I could. I could feel him filling me up and then, before he could come, I lifted off of him. I wanted more. 

I crawled up to the head of the bed and stayed on all fours.  He grabbed my hips and ass and with a firm force, he was back inside me. My face was in the bed and my hands were grasping at the headboard. As he thrust in and out of me rhythmically, I pressed my ass onto him and let my hips open up. As he pulled out, I tightened my muscles around him and squeezed my hips together. I could feel him with every muscle inside me. He was deeper than he had been when I was riding him and I was massaging his dick as he slid in and out of me.  He would let the head come all the way out, then push it deep into me. My body slithered and writhed to the rhythm he had created. He pulled out and licked me again, then he continued fucking me.  He was harder than I have ever felt and I was wetter. He felt so good inside me, I started aching and then without warning, I came again. I flung my head back and he wrapped his hand around my throat and made me come harder. He was so deep and holding me so tight that when he let go, I collapsed onto the bed.

He pulled me onto my back and leaned over and kissed me. Then, as if he could read my mind, he lifted to my mouth and let me taste us.  Then, he pulled out and was back inside me again. As soon as he was inside me, my energy came back. I lifted my pelvis to his and he grasped my thighs. He bent over me and licked and sucked my breasts and I raised and lowered my hips.  I couldn't get the depth I wanted, so I pushed onto him hard and he sat up straight and I felt him harden inside me. He grasped my hips and ass and I felt him get even harder and then explode inside me.  I sat up quickly and put my mouth on him as he finished. And before I could stop him, his mouth was on me and I was working toward climax again. 

What? This is my fantasy. There will be no ending. Carry on.  

The Stranger (Graphic ... No Seriously. It's Graphic)

I am staying in tonight, talking to The Stranger and writing.  He asked after browsing the blog if I really write about sex.   I said, "Of course I do."  But, once I backtracked through the 150+ posts, I was only able to pull 4 that had over a paragraph of sex. I write about everything else. I write about all the emotion around sex.  I write about the thought processes that go into sex, but I rarely just write about the details of the sex. So, tonight, as I lay here longing, I am going to write this post for The Stranger. This isn't a recollection of some lustful night. It's not a recalling of trysts past, but an idea. It's a want. The part of "him" will be played by The Stranger and I'll take the lead.   This, folks, is my fantasy. 

We had been talking for just over a week, but we hadn't met. We agreed to meet. He was going to come up to my place. I spent the day of the date doing the things I do when I have a date coming.  I took a long bath. I will skip the rest of the details. Planning a date on a day when I woke aroused was probably a bad idea.

As I was laying in the bath, my mind trailed off to conversations we had.  I thought of the pictures he had sent me.  He had that perfect V right at his waistline. His chest and stomach were so inviting, but I was thinking about the V and wondering what was right below his waistline. My hand had been washing my breasts, but now it was massaging and my other hand had slipped below the water and into me. My fingers alternated between entering me and massaging my G spot and massaging my clit. My left hand squeezed my nipple hard as water dripped off my fingers. I rubbed my clit and imagined him as I slipped two fingers into myself. I reached inside and rubbed the ridgy area in the roof of my vagina.

There was a buzz and I snapped back to reality. It was a text.  He was 10 minutes away. I pulled the plug, threw my robe over my wet body and ran to my room. I dried quickly and threw on the little black dress I had spent a better part of the day picking out. I was rushed for time, but that's not why I didn't put on panties. He texted. He was downstairs.

When I saw him he was everything I had hoped.  I showed him up to my room. We were going to hang out and get to know each other over a bottle of wine.  We did that for a bit.  We sat on my bed and talked and listened to music. We got very comfortable, very quickly. Our legs had become intertwined as we lay talking and at some point, he had moved closer.  Our hands traced each others as we talked and then, at just the right moment, our lips met. It was intense. It was one of those kisses that is bound to end with sex. It was slow and deep. But, we didn't kiss for that long. We would come back to that.

He had made his way onto me and he was holding me down. All of his force was softened by his tongue tracing its way down my body. I grew warm and wet as his mouth made it's way to me. He didn't immediately put his mouth on me. For what felt like a lifetime, he lightly licked and kissed my stomach and legs while his hand teased me with gentle, light touches.  My desire grew so much that I was wetter than I have ever been. Even though his hand wasn't inside me, his fingers were getting wet as they grazed over me.

It started with a light kiss. Then in the next breath, his warm tongue was on my clit. He started by slowly licking me, but quickly picked up the pace. He slid his tongue into me and then licked all the way up to my clit. I was so wet and as he sucked my clit, he drank me in.  His hands were grasping and rubbing my breasts. He had stopped at my breasts on his way down and my nipples were still wet, cold and hard from his saliva. As his tongue slowly massaged my clit in circular waves, his fingers tightened and loosened around my nipples. He slid one hand down and put two fingers deep inside me as he firmly and quickly licked my clit.

I needed to feel him like he was feeling me, so I nudged him off of me, told him to lay down and climbed on top of him, facing his feet. I took my seat on his face and took him into into my mouth. He kept driving his fingers deep into me and now he was sucking my clit. I could feel my nipples lightly grazing his stomach as I slid my lips over his head and down his shaft. I licked my way back to the head and then I closed my lips around it and started swallowing until his dick was pressing the back of my throat. I swallowed and sucked and my entire mouth massaged him as I took him all the way into my mouth and down my throat. I let out a small moan and as it grew, I could feel the vibrations in the hand I had firmly placed on his pelvis. The moans grew deeper and I lost all track of the things his mouth and my mouth were doing. As his dick slid in and out of my mouth it dripped with saliva.  I could only imagine that his mouth was a wet as his dick. The feeling of his head sliding across my tongue just forced more of a sucking motion and before I knew it, the sensation was bringing me to climax. He hardened in my mouth and I could tell we were both about to come. So, I lifted off of him and turned to face him. ....

Sunday, January 9, 2011

I Own This - It Was My Decision

Today, as I drove to have mexican food and dranks with my sister, we listened to a bit of

Saturday, January 8, 2011

The Rest Of Life

I know the blog is about dating, but dating is, actually, a small part of my life.  Sure, it's fun.  It's entertaining and it's valuable to my growth as a person.  But, while all this dating and self exploration is happening, so is life. I am in Houston right now and while I am always happy to get back to the land of men, this is also the land of family.  My visits home are the time when I get to chill with the people that made me.  I generally reserve dating for the evening.  I go on the occasional lunch date, but those are usually pretty short. Sometimes, I meet men for work dates.  We will take photos, or meet at the library to work in each others' presence. But again, this is usually over by sunset.

During the day and on select evenings, I am with friends or family.  Most of my days are spent either on my best friend's couch, soaking in all of her that I can, or at my parents' house spending time with my siblings and my folks. My family has experienced a lot of shifts lately, some for the worse and some for the better, if not best.  Recently, we have experienced losses and we have experienced enormous gains.

I am fortunate enough to have two real best friends.  I have the one that I chose and chose me after a long period of vetting. And I have the one that God gave me.  My sister and I are very close.  I can tell her everything.  She knows more than you guys do.  And that says a lot.  We can spend endless amounts of time together and not pass judgment on each other.  We have both experienced life and made mistakes and we are different and alike at the same time. We can share stories and failures and just give a shrug, because it's the way things go.  We understand each other to the point of knowing that we don't have to understand everything about each other.  We just accept it and move on to the next joke.  My sister taught me how to be funny and open and how to let life slide off my back instead of hauling it around forever. 

My sister, my brother and I are the youngest three children.  My sister has her children, and my brother works a lot, so when I am in town, I try to help my parents out as much as I can.  So, I spend a fair share of time working with my dad.  I do yard work for my parents.  I do the tough maneuvering required to fix the family vehicles. (My dad can always find something wrong with a car. There is always work to be done.)  I help install washers and dryers.  Essentially, when I am in town, I am the family handywoman.  These tasks serve as a way for me to pick my fathers brain.  Two summers ago, I started chronicling my mother and father's stories.  My parents married when my father was 30, already had 3 kids and an ex wife and my mother was freshly 20.  Hearing their individual takes on a life "together" for the past 40 years has taught me more about my views on relationships than anything else ever could.

Seeing the ways my siblings handle their relationships has also taught me a lot.  I am the youngest and all of my siblings are married with children.  So, I have gotten to call on their wisdom and witness their difficulties. Even though they have all been married and had kids, they have all taken different paths in life.  My older brothers got married and had kids really young.  They were actually already married and fathers by the time I was born.  One divorced and the other lost his wife to kidney failure when I was 22.  My oldest sister died last year, leaving behind an ex husband, a husband and 3 daughters.

My parents had the three youngest of us together.  My brother married young and my sister got married when she was 32 and has two new babies.  I don't know what did it, but they both have pretty solid relationships.  My sister has a good situation worked out.  It's exactly what she wants.  It's great for her.  And she is good at it. My brother and his wife have had their ups and downs, as they have been married for around 12 years.  My brother's wife is a bit older and already had a daughter and now they have a son together.

I took a bit of a different path.  In May, I will be the first person in my family to graduate from college.  They all have families.  They have children and partners. They've spanned happiness to anguish, with dips and raises along the way.  They have life and love, and I have them.  I have also experienced many emotions.  I have, in the past year, experienced the loss of a sister and witnessed the birth of the baby of another sister. In life, I have experienced the loneliness of not having a partner.  I have experienced the sadness of losing partners.  I have seen my sisters and brothers hold their children and kiss their spouses. I watched my brother-in-law grieve the death of my sister and saw how love can lift you up and tear you apart. But, through it all, I have never been alone.

Life is rich and it is beautiful.  Sometimes, I get wrapped up in thinking of how things should be, wondering if I am getting it right, and I forget to see how things are.  Things are wonderful.  I just wanted to remind myself, so I thought I would share with you guys, too. Thanks for listening.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Head From A Jerk

I got this letter from a male reader earlier today.

Dear Poly,

In my younger years, I must admit, I fornicated with a few females I didn't too much like, get along with or find attractive. Not that I dog out women or just go around sleeping with ugly/mean girls, but it happens. Sometimes it was easier to get rid of a girl with a horrible sexual experience. Amongst the few that I didn't particularly care for I used novice moves such as letting one perform fellatio and exploding in her mouth a minute into it and not fucking her after she drove all the to Dallas from Corsicana to see me. My antics grew more bolder and ruthless over time from falling asleep in their mouths to holding their heads down as they take the "aftermath". Some of these antics didn't play out quite the way I wanted them to. From me receiving long letters about driving home from Dallas with the taste of cum in her mouth to some enjoying it and wanting to do it again.



I know what you are thinking.  So, before you are quick to judge this guy, here's my take on the subject.

It happens.  I have never claimed to be a queen of morality.  So, occasionally, I engage in sexual acts with people that I am less than fond of.  I always used to think that a good personality could trump anything.  In my early twenties, I used to get situated on my high horse and tell my friends that I would much rather have a nice guy than a good looking one. It's true to a certain degree. I mean I don't want to marry or have a relationship with a jerk just because his appearance makes me weak in the knees. But, I also can't marry a guy that I have nothing for physically, just because he is nice to me. Ideally, we would all want a perfect combination when it comes to picking a long-term mate.  But for those one-timers or strictly physical encounters, I will go with looks over personality any day.

When it all boils down to it, I could date an ugly guy if he has a high level of confidence and a good sense of style.  I can date a guy that has a less than attractive face if his body is great and he is funny.  Funny trumps a lot, but the fact of the matter is, if I am going to lay down (or bend over) and have truly gratifying sex with a man, he has to turn me on. I don't think one should ever have to purchase lubricant unless they are past menopause or about to engage in the fine art of Buttafuoco (which is not Italian for butt-fucking, but it should be.) If I'm attracted to a guy, I can produce my own.

There isn't a set of guidelines that make a guy attractive.  Things that I think I would never like can turn me on if a guy is awesome in other ways.  Normally, I like guys that are really tall.  I like them to be over six feet tall.  But recently, I met a guy that is considerably shorter than I am.  But, his personality, his face and his body are very attractive.  So, "short" has taken on a whole new identity for me.  I am now counting the days until I get the opportunity to bed him.  I have recently discovered that it only takes one guy with an amazing personality to shift what I would normally consider my "type." Don't get me wrong.  This guy is hot on all levels, he's just a little shorter than the guys I am used to dating.  He's also about 8 years younger, but it's not like I am going to marry him.  I am just going to have sex with him.  Which brings me to my point ...

I don't have to like a guy to engage in sexual activities with him, like ... say ... get head from him.  I am generally a little more apprehensive when it comes to having sex with guys I don't like or respect, but head is head. If a guy is a jerk or says things that make me think he is less-than-intelligent, I don't want to be with him.  But a sub-par intellect will never disqualify a man from bringing me to orgasm with his mouth.  Honestly, it won't even stop me from having sex with him.  I will have sex with a man I don't respect.

I recently met up with a guy I used to work/sleep with.  I had been out with a friend and I was not feeling the idea of sleeping alone.  He texted and the opportunity presented itself.  I had never liked him.  He was 6'5" and worked out a lot and I was very turned on by him as long as he wasn't talking.  There was even an occasion where I had to ask him not to talk to me during sex.  I didn't want to be mean and say what I was thinking. Your personality ... The things you are saying are making me hate your beautiful dick. And that is tragic. So, instead, I just told him that I don't like talking during sex. That was a lie, but it was a lie for the sake of saving a good sexual experience. I think this should get a pass.  So, he texted and we met up.  He was more arrogant than I remembered.  He was actually a jerk.  So, I let him kiss me for a minute, then I gently guided his face to the place it belonged.  I know. I know.  That sounds mean.  But, the fact of the matter is, women have been getting the gentle nudge for a very long time.  Sometimes, it's not so gentle.  He was the one that was a jerk.  So, I got mine.

As he was doing his work, I tried not to think too much.  But, the thought kept popping up.  I really, really despise this guy.  He wasn't just dumb.  He was that awful combination of dumb and arrogant. And here I was further propelling his dumb arrogance.  I was giving him sex and validating his masculinity.  But the whole time, I disliked him.  I mean I didn't hate him. He had even been a shoulder for me to cry on in the past.  He and I shared the same political views.  He wasn't a racist or a misogynist.  He was just dumb and a bit full of himself.  But he felt really, really great, so who am I to say he can't pleasure me.  So, he was just going to go on thinking he was the shit, because he just made another woman come.  Yep. He sure was. Because, as much as I disliked dudes like him, it's not my job to socialize him.  So, I came.  Then, we had sex and I came again.

As I tried to fall asleep, he tried to start a conversation. He wants a girlfriend and wonders why he can't find one.  At first, I thought maybe I would just listen.  Then I thought, "no." I sat up and I told him ... "Maybe it's because you aren't really that nice to women." He was quite surprised. So I explained to him that he was kind of rude.  He seemed open to hearing about it.  Then he asked the golden question. "If you think I am rude to you, why do you have sex with me?" "Because I think you are gorgeous and you get me off."  He seemed to understand and so we laid back down and he rubbed my head until I fell asleep.

So, I had sex with a guy I didn't particularly like.  But, I will not have sex with a man I am not physically attracted to.  Sex is a very physical act and I like to feel warmth in my stomach and lower when a man is touching me. He can be the nicest guy in the world, but if we are not sexually compatible, or if I am not attracted to him, I will be as dry as the Sahara.  There is nothing doing.  Of course, sex is better with someone that I am attracted to in every way. It's best when it's with someone I love.  But, there are different levels of sex.  SOme sex is about making love and some sex is about getting off.  So, when push comes to shove, and I just want to have a quick roll in the hay, I'll take looks over a good personality any day.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Working Backward - Part 3 (The Sex)

Instead of driving home, we both drove to a hotel.  We had decided to spend some time together. Naked.

He picked up the bar tab and I was going to pay for the room.  I had cash and he couldn't put a hotel room on his card. Considering it was an hourly, it was remarkably cheaper than hotels I was used to. I got three hours and went in.  It wasn't too bad.  It was just like any other cheap, seedy hotel. Pretty sure it was as good a place as any to practice adultery.

He got there about 5 minutes after me.  As soon as he walked in, he hugged me.  Then we kissed. It was passionate beyond what I had been used to lately.  Things had been intimate and great with Marlon, but this was different. This was a mix of intimacy, passion and longing.  I had missed him for years.  We had once been lovers and in my younger days, he was the best lover I had known. Things have changed now and I know my body, so I have had more fulfilling experiences since.  But, the first time I knew him, he was the best thing I knew. So, it was passionate.

We kissed for a long while.  I got up from the bed and stood up.  He stood with me and as he pulled my dress over my head, he pulled me close and whispered, "Don't ever leave me again."  I knew I would, but I as I turned my head, his lips drew an imaginary line from my ear to my mouth and we kissed again.  I answered him with my body, but the answer I gave was a lie.

His hands traced my body and made their way up my back.  My bra was off when we laid back down onto the bed.  His lips made their way down my body as his fingers hooked my panties and pulled them off.  It was too late to turn back, but the thought of turning back hadn't crossed my mind.  7 years of wanting had propelled me back into his world.  It had coaxed me into his arms and now, it had gently laid me on the bed and it was propelling me toward orgasm.  My body was there, but my head couldn't quiet down.

His mouth was warm and familiar, but there was an apprehension that I can't identify.  I knew I wasn't going to get there, so I pulled his face up to mine and kissed him.  He stood for a second and I laid there unsure of what I was thinking, unsure of what I wanted, but I didn't move.  He laid down next to me and kissed my neck.  I turned to face away from him and as he entered me, the words escaped my lips. I miss you.  

As he slid in and out of me, he pulled my face toward his.  Turn over.  He didn't ask.  I turned toward him and he got on top of me.  We went through every emotion we had once known and had missed for the past 7 years.  He made love to me, while I laid on my back.  We turned me over and kissed my body.  He bent me over and took out his frustration.  I pressed back into him and remembered why I had left him.  I remembered the way I felt when I decided that he wasn't worth the things he made me feel.

Our trip down memory lane ended just the way our relationship had.  On our last encounter, I had given him head and then asked him to leave.  We ended our trip, that night, with head.  Everything about the way I make love had changed.  I could hear it in his voice.  It was the excitement of someone new and the comfort of an old flame.  As he came, his fingers interlocked mine and he said the words I had longed to hear years before.  He said, "I love you." It didn't feel the way it would have years before.  I had wanted him to love me so much back then, but now, it was just comforting.  My heart didn't sing. The skies didn't open up, but a part of me felt peace.  And, a part of me hoped he was lying.  I wanted to have sex with him and I wanted for him to comfort me for totally selfish reasons.  But I didn't want him to love me now.

We dressed and cracked jokes.  He said he always felt like I was rushing him up after sex.  The banter was familiar.  It was nice.  After we finished dressing, he walked over to me and touched my face.  He kissed me and told me he wanted to see me again.  In a moment of total understanding, he saw the apprehension on my face and he said "I know where my responsibility lies.  I am not going to do anything to hurt my family."  I believe him, but I feel like seeing him again would tempt the fates.

It's his relationship. And if it's not me, it's going to be someone else.  I will not make this decision based on him or his marriage.  I will make it based on what I want for me.  I am already dealing with the idea of being the "Sex Blog Lady."  I am okay with not being anyone's girlfriend, but I am having issues with feeling like I am not special to anyone.  Now, I have to be even more careful that my want to be special to someone other than me doesn't lead me to being "The Other Woman."  He has his wife to think of and I have to think of me.  We both have a lot to lose if things go badly.  I have said many times, there are a lot of single men out there.  I have to be careful that in my search for home and in my search for familiarity, I don't take liberties that aren't mine to take.  I do miss him and I might even love him, but I love me more.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Working Backward - Part 2

My early 20s were a time when I made a combination of good and bad decisions.  As much as I had hoped that the decisions and consequences would leave me armed with a wisdom to avoid making the same mistakes again in my 30s, it appears that I will continue to make mistakes for a long time to come.  It didn't take sleeping with a married man to bring this realization.  I knew I was going to make mistakes.  I just never figured this would be one of them.  This exact scenario is one that I had so fully grown out of and grown from.  Or, so I thought.

But there I was, sitting next to him, hiding.  This is one of the things that I had enjoyed most about it the first time around.  He and I had to sneak everywhere.  My friends couldn't know.  His friends couldn't know.  Things had to be kept under wraps due to his friendship with my boss and because of his marriage, of course.  That require he and I be the only people that knew about our tryst.  It truly was a tryst.  Like I said, we had sex a handful of times.  Maybe 5, including the time I gave him head at my old job. But, our 'relationship' spanned more than a year.

So, I returned to the scene of the crime.  We agreed to meet at a bar.  He wasn't there when I got there, so I went to the restroom, checked my face, ordered a drink and nervously waited.  I felt like I had in my early 20s.  It was a familiar feeling that I had missed.  I was excited.  It's been somewhere between 5 and 6 years since I last saw him.  And we hadn't met like this in around 7 years.  My memory and my math might be a little shaky on this one.  But I remember the important parts.

He was a lover that I fell for.  It wasn't casual.  It was never just a fuck.  He was someone that I spent hours  with in a day.  As we were sitting at the bar I asked him if he had taught me to play chess.  While playing a game of chess on a date some time last week, I had thought about him and tried to recall if he taught me.  He said "No. We actually learned together."  It was true.  Now I remember it well.  We did learn together.

I learned a lot of things around that time.  Things were still fresh.  I hadn't had a long relationship.  My heart had never been broken.  I had only just discovered love at all. It was so fresh and new, I had thought for a brief period that I was in love with The Married Man, but I am pretty sure I wasn't.  At any rate, I am not in love with him now.  But, I do miss him.

This is what I do.  I move away.  I move on and then I romanticize the past.  I don't do it as much any more.  I just had the realization today that I miss my ex for who he was.  But until now, I had painted him as a villain.  It is what I had to do to get through.  But, The Married Man had never had to take the role of the villain.  So, as we sat at the bar joking and remembering, I fell back into it.

I miss home.  I miss my family and my old neighborhood.  I miss my friends and the shops I used to frequent.  I miss my routine and I miss my life here.  For one night, he became a way to get a sliver of it back.  I come back to my old neighborhood every time I am in town.  I still get my eyebrows done in my old neighborhood from the same woman that has done them for the past 10 years.  I still stop off at my favorite coffee places and I still still buy the occasional pack of smokes from my old corner store.  But, when I come in, they all say "Oh, You're visiting?"  I am.  I am visiting.  I am a guest in the place that used to be home.

But, with him, we were both guests.  Neither of us were home.  We were never home for each other.  We were when and where we could meet up, whenever we could get it in.  We were both guests in each other's worlds for as long as I could remember.  This night was no different.  We drank each other in and had a good time.  It was exactly the same as it had been, with a little less sneaking.  The fact that we hadn't slept together in years left less tension and less cause for restraint.  Then, I finished my last drink, said goodbye.  Some mutual friends had come in, as it was a neighborhood spot.  So, I said goodbye to them and I walked to my car.  I got in and I drove, but I didn't drive home.  Neither did he.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Working Backward

In 2010, I made leaps and bounds.  My road to self discovery was rocky, but it was steady and I stuck with it.  I was strong.  That having been said, I came to a fork in the road last night.  And, I took the wrong turn.  I sat at the crossroads, making my decision.  Then, I entered into my mistake with full knowledge of what I was doing.  Road number one was calm, quiet and serene.  It involved a book and a 10pm bedtime.  A glass of water and a simple dinner.  Road number one was a path that led to a slow but sure future involving good decisions.  Road number two offered something different altogether.  It offered a trip down memory lane.  It smelled nice and it looked great.  It offered a revisionist history of the way things were.  So, I made the wrong decision and as much as I want to say I would change it if I could, I probably wouldn't.  It's a mistake I have been making for years...

You guys all know my stance on dating/sleeping with men that are married or have girlfriends.  I just don't do it.  It's normally not worth the time, effort or energy that goes into it.  There is no judgment in it.  I am no one to judge.  But, I also didn't come to this decision lightly.  I have a history with a married man and after that experience, I decided that I wouldn't test the stars anymore.  I had a nice experience with him and we had a clean break.  So, I decided that after that, I would leave the guilt and sneaking around to the married folks and I would enjoy single life with all of the freedoms it affords.

My situation with The Married Man started around 7 or 8 years ago and ended only two short years after it began.  Like I said, it was a smooth trip and a smooth break.  He was a friend of my boss (at the time) and we kept it all very hush hush.  It was a really murky situation.  It could have been complicated and dramatic, but neither of us were looking for anything dramatic.  We both just wanted to spend time together.  It wasn't innocent, but it wasn't horrible either.  It was what it was.  And after a little over a year of spending hours and hours talking and playing chess and only a handful of sexual encounters, I ended it clean.  He says I cut him off.  I did. I met my ex and I wanted to "try monogamy."  This is exactly what I told him.  And so, I deleted his number and turned down all advances from that day forward.

Just as I don't remember exactly how it started with us, I don't remember exactly how it ended. I know that one day, as I was getting ready for a date, he came over.  We had one last go at it.  I gave him head, then I felt like I was going back and forth, so I asked him to go.  He wanted to make love, but I had made up my mind.  So, I politely asked him to leave. *He tells it differently, but I assure you, I was polite.  And that was it.  It was over.  I had thought about him many times.  I scanned Facebook for him, looked for him when I saw mutual friends, but I never asked about him.  Other than the frequent trip down memory lane, he was completely out of my life.

Until ... yesterday.

5 years from the last time I saw him, I got a text from a number I didn't recognize.  It was him.  He said a mutual friend had texted him my number.  He asked if I felt like getting out and seeing each other.  I thought about it for about an hour.  Then, I threw all caution to the wind and I agreed to meet him for a drink.

About Me

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I am the product-child of the Women's Lib movement. I have a grade A education, a promising career and no immediate goal for children or a spouse. I will be 30 this year and I have spent many years in monogamous relationships. In and out of 1 to 2 year relationships, I always dated with the goal of meeting someone special. Most of the time I didn't date. Most of the time I found myself falling into relationship after relationship. These relationships were doomed to fail. They were all built on expectations that were, for me, unattainable. I love meeting new people. I find sex enjoyable and empowering and I am not happy when I am monogamous. So, after my last break-up, after taking some time to grieve, I decided to cut my societal puppet strings and get back in the game. I set out on a mission to spend the Summer of 2010 dating as many men as possible. My only initial criteria was attraction. My only limitation was - no love and no structured relationships. This is my date by date tale of what life can be like outside of the goals of relationships and love.