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. ....
Monday, January 10, 2011
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.
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.
Best,
_____________________________________________
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.
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.
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.
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.
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About Me
- Poly Amory
- 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.