New dawn, new year

And so here we have it; another year spent single went by. So so many dates have come and gone I can’t even keep track. None of them have stuck. Well, for the long run that is. I’ve met a few men that rocked my world for a little while, but nothing lasted. There’s been quite a few fellow bloggers that got engaged or even married, and in real life people are finding their soul mates left and right. Dating has never been easier with apps like Tinder, and yet, after a year of full on dating, I haven’t managed to find someone. As I told someone else earlier this week; I am the only constant. There were men that were into me, I believe that I could have been settled by now and yet, I refuse anything less than a hundred percent. Maybe by the end of this year I’ll look at it differently, maybe I’m looking in the wrong places.

But enough of that; here is the yearly list:

Number of weddings attended: one (my younger brother)

Number of funerals attended: none

Number of babies born: one (I’m an aunt!)

Number of dates I went on: countless

Number of sex partners I had: six

As for the regular updates; I went on a second date with the guy I saw the day before New Year’s Eve. When I texted him to ask if he was interested, he jumped on it and wanted to see me the next day. That wasn’t gonna happen, so we settled on Sunday. After a lot of back and forth, I went to his place. I had proposed drinks, but all of a sudden he wanted a day date, wanted to come to my town but after I told him there’s nothing here on a Sunday, he said he had to be back home by nine anyway, and he just wanted to spend an afternoon cocooning. Alright then. I decided to go to his instead, for some reason I did not want him in my house yet. So off I went through the storm. When I got to his place he greeted me with a kiss, made me tea and made small talk. Like last time, he was very calm and quiet. I was a little disappointed, I’d hoped he’d be a bit more alive. We  hung around on the couch for a bit, made out and he quickly wanted to move things to the bedroom. Literally within twenty minutes of me getting there. While I’m happy to report the sex was a bit better, he still didn’t last very long. We got naked pretty quickly, and before I’d even touched him he provided me with an orgasm with his fingers. I could tell he was ready to go but I wasn’t gonna have another super speedy session. But when I went down on him, I literally bobbed up and down twice, maybe thrice before he told me to stop or he would come. I obliged, stalled him a little longer, but then he made an attempt to go for it without condom. That wasn’t happening. He got the message, found one, and did me in missionary until he came, which didn’t take very long and happened in silence. It wasn’t weird, or particularly bad, but I like my men a bit more active, a little less vanilla and to last a bit longer. I don’t know if he takes a long time getting used to someone, or if this is as good as it gets.

He went to prepare dinner, and I took a long time dressing. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt. Yes I knew what he’d wanted, but it was the first time I didn’t really feel good about it. Was this really what I wanted? When I got myself together he was cooking, and I finished my tea, which was (mind you) still warm. Lukewarm, but still. He didn’t say much. I didn’t say much. It wasn’t terribly awkward, it was more a calm, serene thing and he might be the type that doesn’t mind sharing his personal space. It was like we’d been married for ten years. And so we had dinner, I helped him pick up a lamp for his bedroom, and he wanted to watch a movie, some action flick I wasn’t really interested in, but okay. I wondered if I should leave. I didn’t. I waited until the end. We had a glass of wine, and he still wasn’t very talkative. I’ve never had such a weird date. He’s attractive, has his shit together, I’m sure he’s got plenty stuff to talk about, but whenever we talked, his answers weren’t very elaborate, and not getting anything in return, you kind of give up. I finished my wine and told him I was gonna go. He saw me out with a kiss, and I left pretty abruptly. On my way home I couldn’t help myself but text him I hoped for his travel buddies he was gonna be a bit more talkative, or if he reserved that just for me. He texted back the next day saying sorry, he had been tired, and had had a really good time. Really? doesn’t take a lot more than sex I guess. He’s gone on a skiing trip now, and I hope he gets over that fatigue of him. Weird shit.

On New Year’s eve, I went clubbing with a few girlfriends. Nothing interesting there, but I did receive a few texts from the poker player. During the day where he wanted to say happy new year and we had a little catch up, and then he texted me in the middle of the night, calling me hot stuff and all. Kinda made my night, how pathetic.

Also, Couch guy asked to go on a second date. I told him I’d be busy for a few weeks and would have to let him know. Really don’t know about him, and I’d say I’ve had my fair share of weirdness.

I’ve got a few more dates lined up this week and so help me God I am telling myself sex is not an option. Though, the fact I closed and started the year sex wise with the same guy, should hopefully be a good omen. Or something.

Once you go black

I had two dates this week! The first one was with a guy whose hair was even redder than mine. Two pale people sitting in a bar… I met him at a super cute cafe. Lately I haven’t been so excited about dates anymore since I always wind up with guys that are nervous and find myself having to work hard to make them feel at ease. I’m tired of these type of dates. I like my men assertive. It seems like they are equal to fairy dust.

Anyway, the redhead was calm and easy to talk to, though he was nervous. He kept touching his face. We had a coffee with apple pie, switched to wine and got along just fine. His job isn’t super interesting, but he’s spent some time abroad as well. He keeps ordering drinks and while I’m not bored, my mind wanders off to the fact I still have to take a train home and I already know I’m not super interested in seeing him again, so I kinda want to get home. Once we call it a night, he actually pays the whole tab. That hasn’t happened in a while. Only two days later he sends me his phone number through a Tinder message, and I give him mine. He still hasn’t texted, so I’d be happy to accept we were just being polite.

Then I had a Tinder date last night. I was not excited about that one either, and even considered canceling a few hours before. He had come across a little needy, a few lame jokes… the works. But I went through with it. Happy I did! He was already at the bar when I arrived, and was better looking than I had been afraid of. His smile was fantastic, very boyish. We did a small pubcrawl, ran into a few colleagues of mine, which was too quick a meeting to be awkward, and when his last train home time was coming up I suggested he stay with me.

We went back to my place, had another wine for show and quickly moved to the bedroom. After we hurriedly undressed and he shoved his dick in my mouth it became very clear very quickly that the ‘once you go black’ saying was definitely true for this one. The man was huge. I’ve never seen a thicker dick. Foreplay was minimal, which I didn’t mind as his skills needed improving, and at that point I just wanted to get fucked. And did he. He was rough, hair pulling, choking and all. Good stuff. After a thirty minute break, he was ready to go at it again. He was going at it so hard I had to tell him twice I needed a minute. Also, because he took a super long time coming, and eventually didn’t. Guess the break wasn’t long enough.

After a bad night’s sleep, he was clingy which I only like if I’m into someone, we had another quickie. After a shower, I kind of ended it quite abruptly. It was clear we didn’t have much else to talk about. He was being super nice and I could tell he cared, but I am just not a happy chirpy person in the morning. If I like someone I want them to stay but if not, I get super awkward. He was a nice guy, and if he calls I’d go out with him again but if not, I’d be cool with that too.

The night I lost and gained my self-respect

First off; this shit’s embarrassing and I’ll be judged by a couple hundred strangers on the internet I don’t know. But, since my anonymity is still intact, off we go.

There’s an ex I have been in touch with sporadically ever since we broke things off. (You go figure it out). It turned out we happened to be partying in the same city last Friday. By the time we found out, he was already on his way home, and I was pretty much done. We however kept in touch since, and conversations got hotter and heavier. By Monday, things reached a climax.

We were gonna live out this fantasy we (mostly he) had been discussing. I was persuaded to go see him, a good hour and a half away from where I live. What he wanted was this; a whore. He wanted me on my knees, fuck my mouth until I choked, gag me and fuck me in the ass and spank me until I would be begging for mercy. He sent me pictures of what he’d do to me. They were explicit. He wanted me to bring toys. There is a lot in there I can go along with, if not everything. But I was missing two things, respect and empathy.

Sounds contradictory? Maybe. In the final hours leading up to this, he made a few things very clear. If I wanted this, I would come to him. He did not want to leave his house. I told him he would have to come pick me up from the train station, and also that I would need a ride in the morning. Initially, he did not want me to stay. He said there would be enough time to catch my last train home at eleven thirty at night. I refused. It was not until I told him I did not want to be thrown out on the street like a hooker and have to sit on a train for two hours in the middle of the night. Mind you, it was a Monday and I had work the next day. It was not until I pointed out any man with a shred of decency would not let a woman travel on a night train by herself for two hours that he succumbed. The other major roadblock was his unwillingness for cunnilingus. Literally. ‘I am not going to put my mouth on you’. I had actually heard this from him before, so was not majorly surprised. He made it clear I was there for his satisfaction and not mine. I had agreed to this, so I could not blame him. After all he said he was being honest about it. ‘I don’t care if you get off’.

In the heat of it, I accepted all of it. I knew he was a jerk, so I wasn’t very surprised. But as I had taken my shower and was on my bicycle to the train station, my heart started to sink a little. Did I really want this? Yes, I was horny for it, very much so, but he had demonstrated very little understanding for what I was about to do. While I waited for the first train, I contemplated turning around and going home. I could just not make up my mind. I wanted it. But did I want it for the right reasons? I was making a huge trip, really put myself out there, and for what? The train came, and I got on. I was torn and told myself there was still time to go back.

During that twenty minute ride, I waited for a sign. I was going to be fucked in every way imaginable, and would not be able to walk the next day. I would have a sleepless night, and would have to get up very early at that to make it to work in time. I was going to cancel on my yoga buddy. For a fuck. I got to the station, and needed to wait for another fifteen minutes for my connection. I texted him. ‘I am halfway and breaking out in cold sweats. Say something please.’ I needed him to say something nice, to reassure me it would be alright.

He did neither. He wanted to know what was wrong. I told him I couldn’t decide if I was doing the right thing. He sent me another explicit photo and proceeded to tell me I’d come halfway, what was the problem? Didn’t I want this? Hadn’t we talked about this? I told him the train had arrived and I had two minutes to get on. He said he wasn’t going to talk me into anything. If I wanted to come, I should, but he was cooking now.

The train left. I texted him. ‘I can’t do it.’ We went back and forth a bit. He wanted to know what the real issue was. I sent him a long text. I was afraid I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror the next morning. I was going to be a slut, and I didn’t know if I’d be okay with thattomorrow. That because I was making so much effort to get to him it was too easy for him and too cheap for me. He was putting in zero. I couldn’t justify it in my head. I was doing everything and he was doing nothing. That made a full whore circle in my head. I would have done it to myself.

He said he understood, yes he knew he sounded rude and selfish, but that it was part of the fantasy, he had thought we were on the same page.  I had thought so too, but all these second thoughts made me realize I was better than that. He would use me and spit me out like he had done a year ago. It didn’t matter to him who fulfilled his fantasies, as long as he had a warm, hot body. It didn’t matter to him how I felt about it, as long as he could do whatever he wanted. There was zero empathy and respect for me.

Another train passed by. I turned around and went home.

*tbc

 

All the sex

I fell off the blogging train! It’s taken me forever to write, and I wish I could say I have had a million dates or found Mr. Right in the meantime, but none of that unfortunately. I have been busy, July has seen a heatwave, an airplane fell out of the sky, my sister has moved to another country, and I’ve got a work trip to China coming up. (yay)

Let’s start at the beginning. The Stud. Yup, still in the picture. I even saw him two weekends in a row. Last month, he asked if I wanted to come to a festival in his town. It’s a traveling festival of small theaters that promote their new season by putting on thirty minute shows for cheap. So there’s a bunch of theater tents, food and wine out in the open. It’s awesome. And because he had worked on two of those festivals in other cities (because he works for a theater) he got us free entrance, food and shows. Sweet deal. So I went to see him on a hot Friday afternoon, wearing a hippie dress, determined to make up for the non sex last time. So we wandered around and saw a few shows. He asked me what I thought of two, which put me on the spot a little bit since he knows theater and I don’t, but I think I managed. When we went to get dinner the conversation drifted to dating once again and he mentioned how he still didn’t understand how he managed to ‘get’ me. I decided to bite the bullet and tell him a little bit about how hard it is for me to talk about feelings, and how I take things as disinterest when I don’t feel someone is engaged. I told him how I hadn’t felt like our first date and that I had been pleasantly surprised afterwards, which made him a bit shy. By the end of the night, we’d drank three bottles of wine between us, but were not feeling buzzed. We went to see another show, and called it a night at around one in the morning.Back at his house, we had another glass of wine but both of us had trouble getting it down, and we were pretty tired. So, off to bed. We get right to it, and I have to say, while the sex itself is good, it’s kind of the same every time. He fingers me or eats me out, I do the same for him, he gets on top, and then we switch until he comes. Perfectly fine, but I feel like it should be more adventurous, especially considering his background. Then, when he rolls off the condom, he asks if it’s possible I’m bleeding. No. Fuck. We examine ourselves and the condom, and see nothing, but the inside of the condom is a little pink. When I clean myself up in the bathroom, I see that it was definitely me. Crap.

The weekend after, when he comes back from a kid’s birthday party at his friends, he asks if I feel like coming over and watch a movie. The weather is shit, and couch potatoe-ing together sounds pretty good. I pick out a movie which turns out the be boring, and we both have troubles making it to the end, so instead we just make out. When we get into bed, he quickly puts me where he wants me and goes down on me like he hasn’t before. It’s awesome, and he’s so into it, I come fairly quickly. It’s made him super hard as well, and I happily suck him off. I guess I’m one of those few that actually likes giving head, especially when my efforts are being appreciated. When he tells me to stop so he can put on a condom, I ignore him, and just keep going. I don’t want to be dealing with blood this time around. He warns me he’s coming, but I still don’t stop and take it all in. He’s pleasantly surprised with my change of plans, and I just smile. The next morning is lazy, but when he comes out of the bathroom with a hard on, I practically jump on him. I’m not satisfied yet, and want a proper fuck. He gets the message, starts licking me quite roughly and isn’t afraid to use his teeth. And then before he can get back into his own routine, I maneuver myself on all fours in front of him, and he gets the message. He went to town. It was awesome.

And then last week, he texts me saying that he has a cheeky question. How would my company feel about sponsoring his sports team on their way to a world cup in twenty fifteen? I was so disappointed he asked that. I hate feeling like people use me for that kind of stuff. And it’s worse when friends ask. I have given him stuff before, but from my wanting to. I guess now he felt like it was worth a shot. To me, it meant he hadn’t listened to me at all when I had told him all that during dinner. I took a day, and then turned the situation around. I’d put him to work and let him work out a business case. I won’t do anything with it. But in return I can now ask him for stuff. Like the use of his city apartment when he’s not there and I want to go partying.

Then yesterday, I had a date. It’s through a new website that’s a little pretentious. You have to get invited, and then get accepted by people that judge your photos. But I made it. I got to talk with a cute guy, and chatted with him two nights straight. We then switched to text messaging, and on Thursday he asked if I wanted to go for drinks. I did. I was quite excited to meet him, conversation was super easy, we have a colleague in common, and he seemed to be super relaxed. He did admit he was a bit shy, which made me a little anxious of having to lead the date (hate that) but he wasn’t at all. As soon as we met we hit it off, and pretty much talked until I had to get back on the train. He took me to two real nice places, and then dropped me off at the train station. This morning he texted me his ice bucket challenge. I would definitely go on a second date with him, though I didn’t think there were any sparks or anything.

And tonight I am supposed to have a Tinder sexdate. Yay! He should be here in a couple hours, though I half expect him to cancel still, or to not go through with it on the spot. He has a big mouth, but he comes off a bit immature and needy. He fires random questions at me (are you spiritual?) and admits he’s a little nervous, though he’d been bragging about going home with every single date he’s been on. And he was a pain in trying to set this up. He wanted me to come to his place, which is fine, but then went into a lengthy discussion about where we should go because he doesn’t live downtown. Maybe we could meet at the train station so that we could see if it was gonna work. Hell no. I am not coming to be looked at and then then turned down within 5 minutes and then having to go back. I told him he was a pain, and I think he realized he might not get laid this weekend, because now he’s coming to my town. We’ll have a drink and see how it goes. I am giving him the benefit of the doubt because he’s so hot, and I hope my gut feeling is wrong on this one!

Unexpected Fun

Leading up to my supposed date with the Stud last night, he had been a little standoffish when trying to nail down a time. On Friday, I asked him what the plan would be. He said it was up to me. I asked if he still wanted to come to my town. He said it didn’t matter to him. I asked if he wanted to do dinner, drinks, or both. He said he was a little tight in finances. I told him not to worry, and he said ‘okido.’ No one ever says that word. Something felt off, and I was getting a little anxious. Then last night by seven, I had still not heard from him. I was frustrated, and even more when he said he wouldn’t get here before nine when I texted him. I felt like I was being squeezed in.

I ended up having to rush getting dressed and all, but was pretty happy with the result. I went to pick him up from the train station, and he was perfectly happy and good looking as usual. We quickly made our way to a bar and talked as if we hadn’t seen each other in years. My strategy for the night was to not remind him of any trains going home. I was just going to let time pass, not say anything and if he’d missed his train, oh how unfortunate. He told me he had come from his family who had grilled him when he’d told them he was coming here. What’s there? Well, Ella. Who’s Ella? Are you staying the night? I guess I am taking it as a positive thing his family knows about me now, though I don’t know what he’s told them.

We once again touched the subject of dating when he said that after his weekend of sailing two weeks ago, he had visited the one other girl he was still in touch with besides me.  She lives on the other side of the country and since he had to be there, he took the opportunity to go see her, and also mentioned he spent the night. My mind raced a little at this point. The odds of course say that he slept with her. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Well, I did. Why her, and not me? I had looked her up before. He’d mentioned her name a few times, and she’s on his Facebook list. She is the polar opposite of me. Black hair, tan skin, perfect make-up, and curvy. I didn’t ask him what he wanted from her or me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

By the time he pulled out his phone to look at the time, it was one o’clock, and quite a few more drinks later. He said he didn’t know if he was going to get home. I told him to stay with me, to which I got a yay. Must have been his plan already. We had a last drink, and headed home. He was a little more touchy-feely than I know him to be (or maybe, once again I am reading too much into this) but since he had mentioned his other friend and I was all too aware of his resistance to casual sex and commitment, did not think anything of it. Just in case I got the signals wrong, I didn’t want to embarrass myself or him either.

Back at mine we have a last drink before we head to the bedroom. He used my toothbrush, saying his mouth has been at weirder places on me with a grin, and we unceremoniously get changed for bed. He had mentioned his sore back a few times, and I’d seen him wiggle around during the night. I offer to massage and try to loosen him up a bit, and he happily accepts. I stop before he falls asleep, and lie back down.We talk for a bit, with him stroking my arm, and then he mentions that it’s  been a while since we’ve shared a bed. Yes, two and a half months to be exact. At this point, call me oblivious, I am still think we’re being perfectly platonic. He doesn’t want me like that after all. While I had hoped he’d come back home with me, I had not thought sex was in the cards, I would have been perfectly satisfied to have just spent more time with him. But when I switch off the bedside light, he doesn’t hesitate.

We make out for a long time while our hands just roam around as if it were all new. Because of his back I end up doing most of the heavy lifting, but he manages to make me come twice with his fingers. I suck him until he’s hard, scramble around for a condom and get to work. We closed my windows because of the neighbors and my squeaky bed, and it’s warm in the room. We’re both sweating, and the sheets are clammy. I love it. Means the sex is dirty. He doesn’t come though, and even after we switch around, he admits that it’s not happening. Oh well. Beers, pressure, busy day, who knows. He wraps his arms and legs around me, and we both fall asleep pretty quickly. It’s four thirty.

I wake up a few times, gently shove him once to make him stop snoring, and we both lazily whisper good mornings by nine o’clock. We drift in and out of sleep for the next hour, and I wake up again when his fingers draw up and down my back. After a while, he moves on top of me, and we lazily make out. I love being squished. Eventually he sucks and bites his way down, and spends a glorious amount of time eating me out. After I come he doesn’t stop, and my legs are shaky when a second orgasm hits. We switch, and I do the same for him. He plays with my hair while he moans and groans, and I can’t help but smile a little. It turns me on. He doesn’t warn me when he comes, but I can feel it, and take it all. I find out he doesn’t care about tasting himself, and we happily kiss and hug while coming down from the high. We get up at around eleven thirty, take turns in the shower, and have breakfast. It’s comfortable. I take him to the train station to go home an hour later, and we say our goodbyes.

That was definitely more than I bargained for, in the best way possible. As corny as it sounds, it was perfect. Everything worked, and it was one of those nights where there’s just a connection and you want human contact. When he’s gone, I go through my usual hour or two of feeling conflicted and sad, and call my friend.

We did not talk about the current situation. I do not think this night changed anything for him. It was a natural progression and we both wanted it. It just worked out that way. I don’t know if he likes me that way. Yes, he likes me as a person and thinks I’m hot, but I don’t think he has changed his mind about his situation. It confuses me at some point. He tells me one thing but his actions say another. If casual sex makes him unhappy, as he has mentioned, then why did he do this? Where does this other woman stand? I think one of the reasons he has stayed in touch with me (apart from regular liking me) is the fact I have not been nagging him about the whole thing.

I’m not sure if we should even talk about last night. I shouldn’t even been thinking about it so much, because I should be clear on the situation. But well, I’m a girl. Though I do think, should this happen again, maybe it is time for the both of us to re-evaluate. I will see him again, he’s said so, so we’ll have to see how that goes. I know I cannot do this forever. I can do the casual sex thing if I am not into someone, but I am into him, and he must know that somewhere inside.

Date #3

On Wednesday night, a couple days after my second date with the bisexual man (who I will now call Stud as it sounds much better) he sent me a text late at night asking if he could call me. Sure, I replied, wondering what he could possibly want to talk about. He calls, and says he wants to hear a familiar voice. He is at his father’s house, trying to clean it out. His dad has Alzheimers, and he took the ungrateful job of sorting through his things to see what’s staying and what’s going. He feels alone and a bit sad, understandable. We talk for a while until he feels better, he goes to take a bath, I go back to bed. I did wonder if he had no one else to talk to, seeing as we’d only been on two dates, but at the same time I consider it a good sign.

We exchange only a few texts during the week (he’s not much of a texter) and when on Saturday evening I ask him if he’s gone home or still at his dad’s house, he says he’s still there, and I am more than welcome to come. He throws in a bath, and a ride to my workshop in his city in the morning. Even though it’s an hour away, I accept after making sure he’s not joking. He warns me it’ll be like camping, but hey, nothing I don’t know. So I jump on a train, tell him I’ll be there at 9, and he comes to pick me up from the train station.

At his dad’s house, he gives me a tour and I start to understand what he’s doing. There’s boxes and boxes of stuff everywhere. Countless binders with paperwork. I wonder if it’s uncomfortable that I’m at his father’s house, but he’s not, so I let it go. He gets drinks, we talk as usual, and somehow ending up playing monopoly on the floor in between the boxes. He’s very touchy-feely this time. I make an idiot of myself by constantly forgetting the rules, and hope he doesn’t think I’m stupid. We play for about an hour, and then call it quits to take a bath. He very cutely pours quarter of a bottle of oil in, lights candles, and we jump in. Neither of us have a bath at home, so we take full advantage and hang out until the water gets cold.

Thank God there’s a bed, and we quickly put a sheet on it, and zip two sleeping bags together. Unlike last time, we get right down to business, though we take it a lot slower. The bath made us lazy! We make out for a while, until I climb on top of him. I suck on his balls and dick and listen to him moan. And then he pulls me up by my hair, kisses me hard, and holds me down. Yay. He bites his way down, and I enjoy looking at him in between my legs, and his shoulders working. He spends good time eating me out, but does it very slowly. I give into it and after a while come quietly, very civilized, yet he knows. I take his dick in my hands, and work it until I decide it’s time to fuck. I sit myself down on him, and manage to find a perfect angle. We go at it fast and hard, I make myself come another time, and he quickly comes with his signature three hard thrusts and moans. There’s just something I love about watching and hearing men come, and he’s very satisfactory.

After a quick clean up, we get back into bed. I tell him he’s hot, and find out he’s bad at taking compliments. We have another lazy make out session, and then decide to go to sleep. The alarm will go off in a few hours, he has to go rowing, and I have 3 hours of yoga to do the next day. I’m happy he doesn’t snore as bad as last time, and manage to actually get a good night sleep.

When we wake up, I’m ready to go at it again, but we don’t have any more condoms, and he’s worried of being late. So he gets up to do some last cleaning and get his stuff together, and I take a shower. It’s a quiet morning, but not of the awkward kind. After an hour we close the door and drive back to his city. We get there a lot faster than planned. He parks the car, and we load up his bike with our bags. He rides home with me on the back, and even have time for a cup of coffee at his place. Since he has to be in the boat at 11:30 and my workshop doesn’t start until one, he tells me to stay behind if I want. I can hang out and just close the door behind me? Awesome. I even feel a little flattered. He leaves after a kiss, and I look around. Where to snoop first? No, joking. I didn’t. I did open up his medicine cabinet to see what was there (nothing interesting) went to see what was on the floor beside his bed (a book and condoms) and had a good look at his bookcase. We actually read a lot of the same stuff. His passport was also sitting there, and I did look at that. I found out that when the passport was issued, 3 years ago, he was still married. I already knew that. He’s been married to a man for 6 years, and they were together for 13 years. Intimidating. They split up 2 years ago, very amicably, and their divorce isn’t even final yet. Neither of them want to screw the other over, and apparently, that takes time. Oh well. It’s not a shock, and I’m not bothered. I sit around for a while, have another drink, and then leave for class. I send him a text to say thanks for using his apartment.

After class, late in the afternoon I have a text from him asking how it was, and we go back and forth for a bit. He says he’s gonna go our for a walk since the sun is out. I say I am going for a green shot with two classmates and will wave if I see him walk down the street. I don’t think much of it, but sure enough, half an hour later, there he is. In jeans, shirt and sunglasses. Looking very hot. We spot each other at the same time and I am immediately a little on edge. I’m still sweaty, I’m pretty sure my make up is smudged, and my  hair is in a frizzy ponytail. We say hello with a kiss, he says hi to my two friends, tries my green shot, talks some more, and then leaves with another kiss to go get ice cream. My two male friends stare me down. Who was he? I tell them we’ve been on a few dates and that’s it. They agree that he is smoking.

On the train home, he texts, so hopefully that means he’s not put off by my not so charming post-yoga look. I feel really comfortable around him, but yet I am unsure of what to do all the time. I have the feeling he’s not necessarily looking for something serious. Which is fine, but I need to tell myself to not expect anything or be too forward about meeting up. I also think he is not into me romantically, but does not like being alone at this point in his life and is comfortable with me. We get along really well, are both super comfortable, and the sex is good. I also know that he is insecure, and might struggle with the same thoughts I struggle with.

Tricky thing is that I go on holiday for almost a month in two weeks, and I am nervous he will meet someone else. I’m pretty sure he still goes on dates, which I am fine with, but I don’t want him to meet anyone he’ll be more into that me. Fair chance though, 3,5 weeks is a long time, he won’t wait for me, so hopefully he’ll still be there when I come back. So I have two weeks before I leave, of which 3 trips to Germany, and my period is due on my last weekend home next weekend. Awesome. I gotta figure that one out.

The big third

So remember when the Ginger cancelled our third date right before he went on tour? Well, last Sunday he came home. We had a date set for Monday. But before that, on Sunday, I had a little bit of a freak out.

When he was on the train going home from the airport, we were texting back and forth, and he mentioned how he just wanted to relax on his couch with a movie. And then somehow the conversation progressed into having me come over for a blowjob, because what’s better than a movie and a BJ? Stupidly enough, I played along for a bit, but the more and more he kept going, the more I felt backed up into a corner. Yes, I wanted to see him, but I was fully aware that I would give off a signal of being easy and available as a friend with benefits if I were to go. Normally, I would have taken the easy option, avoid talking about it, and just do it. In this case I could do just that, I could not reply to his messages anymore, which would be weird, or I could tell him how I felt, which I never do. I opted for the last option after having a mild panic attack. I didn’t want to come across as needy, but I liked him too much to ruin everything by going there. I told him exactly how I felt; backed up into a corner. He immediately picked up the phone and said that was the last thing he wanted. It started as a joke, and I would stay home and we’d see each other tomorrow and have a fun date. Pfew. I figured if he ended up canceling the next day after all; he’d be a jackass and I’d know what he was after.

He didn’t cancel. He ended up having to cover for a friend for a teaching job, and so he came to my place late in the afternoon. We were supposed to go out and do something as both previous dates, we basically ended up at home. But it turned out he was too tired from traveling and all. We went for about an hour because he wanted to see my town, and then went back home. We talked for a bit, watched some TV and then jumped each other. I have to say I did most of the work. He definitely wanted that blowjob. He’s quite responsive and appreciative, and I enjoyed it alright. He made me stop before he came, took me to the bedroom, and flipped me on all fours.

Afterwards we showered, talked about random stuff, I cooked dinner, he helped out, and it was perfectly comfortable. We watched a movie and went to bed. In the dark, we talked for a long time while he held me. Or rather; he talked and I listened. Eventually, we fell asleep. In the morning we had breakfast and he left just before noon to do his laundry before flying out the next day again.

After he left, I felt a bit sad and didn’t quite know what to do with myself. That feeling subsided, and the next day my insecurities came back in full force.

We were supposed to go out but had yet another house date. I feel like we should be doing exciting stuff to get to know each other. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions. He listens when I talk, but he doesn’t enquire much. I didn’t come. He texted to say he had a good time but appears to be a whole lot slower replying than before. It was too comfortable, easily perceived as boring. I don’t fit in his arms. We didn’t talk about anything important. At all.

So, all in all, I feel like I’m in the dark. Will I see him when he gets back? I hope so and I will definitely ask him to. But I wish I’d have felt more confident after date #3, and I don’t.