Roadblocks

I have struggled a bit (a lot) trying to find inspiration and motivation to blog again. Have you noticed? I feel like lots happened, and nothing happened at the same time. It’s been five months since my last post, and while I never stopped dating completely, I did take it very easy. It’s been a summer of festivals, parties and there have barely been weekends that were not planned completely full. And, I’ve bought a house in another city! Especially that one feels huge to me. It (I thought) meant having to make a final decision between settling down and continue to travel the world. Only a few weeks ago I realized one does not cancel out the other. So I made a big commitment, but I feel like it will force a much needed change.

The biggest reason I didn’t feel motivated to write was because nothing changed, and I felt like I had not progressed even a little. I am still single, got frustrated, disappointed and even upset all over again. I spent a lot of time thinking about the whole dating thing, all things I’ve written about before here. My Facebook feed is flooded with engagements and marriages this summer. People flutter from one relationship to the next and I’m still where I was five months ago. But¬†sometimes, just sometimes I am quite pleased with that, especially when I remember to have fun with it. But a lot of times I get a little bummed, when I haven’t managed to overplan my weekends and I sit alone on a Friday night. I think we all know how that feels. FOMO, anyone?

Anyway, it’s not like nothing happened at all. There’s a few things worth mentioning just because they’re good stories.

During the heatwave this summer, I set up a date with swimming pool guy. He had a pool in his backyard. I saw possibilities, try and blame me. We went back and forth a bit and settled on a swimming date only a date later. Not in his pool, but we went to a lake close by. He came and picked me up by car which is something I normally wouldn’t do, but I could not muster the thought of riding my bicycle in the heat. We both brought stuff to fill a picknick basket, and off we went. We found a quiet spot, took off our clothes and jumped in. I didn’t really care getting in bikini on a first date. Conversation was easy, yet at times a little awkward. He wasn’t much of a talker. When we finally made out I found out he wasn’t a great kisser, but to be honest, I just wanted to get laid. So we got dressed, he got a good look, and I made him drive back to my house.

We skipped etiquette, stumbled onto my balcony, and got naked pretty quickly. When he asked if I wanted to take my panties off myself or if he could rip them off, I told him to do it. I wasn’t wearing anything special. I was not disappointed, he was very rough about it. It didn’t take him long to figure out what turned me on. He put his hands around my neck, and there wasn’t much I wouldn’t let him do. We took it inside where he went all out. The fact that it was so freakishly hot added to the whole dirtiness of it. We were both drenched in sweat, not in the least place because we took hours. More specifically, he took hours. HOURS. And then he didn’t, and I was over it a little. It was three in the morning, and I had work the next day. He didn’t seem to mind much, we jumped in the shower, and he asked if he could stay.

We had a quiet breakfast in the morning (which I made him, why?!) and then took off. When he texted me later, he said that he thought the sex was amazing, and fantastic and hot and he’d like to see me again for that, but that he didn’t feel a spark. I told him I was fucking tired of people yakking about sparks. That I was sure he had enough ladies in his contact list to fuck, but that I wasn’t going to be one of them. I was tired of being good enough only to fuck, and at that point I didn’t want to be another fuckbuddy.¬†Looking back now I could have kept him on, but I wasn’t in a good place. I didn’t want to do that anymore.

So I’m back again, continuing to be in good spirits I hope! It feels like I’m always talking to someone, one of these days it has to happen right? I am leaving the best story for the next blog. I’ve been super high and super low on that one, but it’s a long story.

He’s back.

The asshole Musician. I received a message from him a few days ago asking if he fucked up asking me for work stuff. Yes, he had. He apologized, we messaged back and forth for a bit while I wondered what he wanted. It did not take long. Things were not going well with his new chick. They had met up in London while he was on tour, and things had been awkward between them. They’ve been having a long distance relationship until now, meeting occasionally, but mostly relying on FaceTime and messaging. And then when they had actual time to spend, things went downhill. I can’t help feeling a little pleased. In your face. It wasn’t me.

Anyway, now that that’s going down, he apparently needs a back up. Enter Ella. Before I knew it I was sucked into a long thread that went further and further, eventually leading to him saying he’d be back in the country today and maybe we should finally turn mutual fantasies into reality. All of me is screaming YES, YES fuck me senseless! I am having so much trouble keeping a clear mind, while I know that it won’t ever happen because if we were to agree on meeting, he would cancel last minute. I would love him to be my birthday gift and think I could handle it too, but it’s all just such a bad idea. Though, I’m getting ahead of myself as usual.

I have been in touch with the Stud occasionally as well. I have not seen him after our last date, but he texted me last week to say I was not supposed to look better than the bride after he saw photo’s of my brothers wedding. Way to go on the sweet talking. I have decided to go easy with him. If he wants to see me, he’ll have to put in some effort.

Ending rant.

Be a dick about it

You remember John. The one I shouldn’t have. I never used to see him at work and yet this week, I’ve run into him three times. Hello’s exchanged, no biggie.

Yesterday, I sent out a group email to my relay race team to ask for their leg times as I needed to compile them for a sweepstake. (Anyone wanna take a wild guess at who the slowest runner was?) So the answers start trickling in, as did John’s. He had avoided the ‘reply to all’ and sent me a private one to say that he had delegated the task of keeping his times to someone more responsible, which would be anyone else but him. I though it was as a positive sign, and sent him a ‘responsibility was debatable anyway :)’ email. He replied with a ‘Think the whole team was very irresponsible.’ Full stop. I took it as an asshole way to cut me off and to reprimand me for thinking I could hint at it. Which I wasn’t, by the way.

I took an hour, had a shower, and decided not to be harsh like I intended but send a reply he could take two ways. And lo and behold, he took it well. Maybe I had misinterpreted his previous message. We exchanged a few more about nothings, until 11pm when he said I should stop working as he was going to, and enjoy the last hour of my Tuesday. So I guess we’re on good terms again. Which is good, because we’re all supposed to have drinks sometime soon. Still, I don’t feel so good about the whole thing, I feel like the air is heavy. I’d feel so much better if we just had that drink, got a little drunk, made a stupid joke about it and get it out of the way. How very girlish of me. Or maybe he could just flat out hate me and that’d be clear enough. Hate the hot/cold. Anyway.

Last Saturday, I went out with Selma, who needed to get laid. Her words. She told me it had been two years, and she needed some. I am very much not used to her talking that way, so I was amused, to say the least. We have had conversations about why it seemed easy for me to do whatever I wanted and why I’m not bothered by casual sex, and she’d always said she wished it was the same for her, but she just couldn’t. I guess she got over it. She had spotted a guy she wanted, and then chickened out. And I figured out why she takes two years as well. This woman is difficult! As soon as she’s approached, she shoots them down with sarcasm. Not good. Eventually, I struck up a conversation with the guy at the bar, and at the end of it, he invited himself and his friend over to our table. I gave Selma advance warning, and told her to be nice.

A few more hours pass, and somehow (and this is where it becomes somewhat vague) we decide to go to my house as I live the closest. I am being told, in two separate conversations, that both men are only coming along for me. That’s not good. I’m not even flattered, because the guy Selma’s after turned out be 22, and a whiny little bitch. So I shut him down and focus on his friend. Who’s not incredibly hot, but he’s nice and he has something to say. At my place, a bottle of champagne gets opened and things go downhill from there.

I get summoned into my own bedroom by the friend, and leave Selma and her guy to it in the living room. So the friend is Asian looking, shorter than me and sadly, the small dick prejudice was true for this one. But Oh. My. God. He was incredible at everything else. In one of my posts I’d written that I’ve never been lucky enough to encounter a man good at oral sex. Until now. Seriously, I am still smiling when I think about it. He had too much to drink to get it up, which meant he completely dedicated all his time to me. I am talking hours of oral and hand jobs. I lost count of the amount of orgasms I had. At some point Selma and the other guy left, and I never even noticed. I was dragged all over my own house, and I’m sure I left a trail. Those couple of hours, he was a god. I get weak in the knees just thinking about it now. Lucky me. He woke me up after 1,5 hours of sleep, and this time, got it up. He was still small. And again, lucky me because he was out for anal sex.

Right after he left I got a text from Selma, that she’d finally gotten laid. The whiny guy had taken her home and somehow she’d had the guts to invite him up. Good for her, guess that’s out of her system now. I’d say that was a night well spent! As for my oral god, don’t know his name, didn’t get his number, he disappeared into the early morning, and I am completely cool with that.

When I chickened out.

Having sex at work is something I wouldn’t normally do. Louis would. He has told me he actually has had sex in a bathroom three times. During work hours. That’s right.

So when he had told me that coming to my house was not an option anymore, he opened up the possibility of having sex at work. I didn’t really respond to it; couldn’t really see myself scraping together the courage to actually do something like that.

But today, when I texted him I had a meeting in his building, he, as I expected, immediately suggested we get it on. I told him probably not, but I’ll go check out your secret bathroom and let you know. The thought of it made me nervous, and I was barely able to suppress that during the meeting even though I knew there was no way I would go through with that.

I did go downstairs, to the garage entry where he said was a bathroom. It was right at the entrance and while not the main entrance, it got plenty of traffic. We would be able to sneak in and out unseen, but the thought of hearing the door open and close all the time and the potential of someone having to use the bathroom while we would be in it put me off. Yes, it’s exciting, but I do care too much about my job to get caught. Thursday afternoon at 4 did not seem like a good time for that.

He asked me what I thought and if he should come down. I told him it made me nervous, that there was a lot of traffic. And that I wasn’t carrying a condom. That was okay, we could do a lot of other stuff? I wanted to, but I didn’t. And so I chickened out. He was cool about it, understanding it was a work environment. We could save it for when we would both be happening to be working late. That sounds a lot better. To be honest, I am not even disappointed with myself for not going through. Feels quite good actually!

I am off the the US on Saturday, wish me luck on the Abercrombie hunks!

Outcomes

So it seemed Louis was in doubt about last week’s encounters. I had decided to leave him alone. I didn’t want to give him any leads that I would be into him for more than occasional sex. He continued to text me though, and I responded cautiously, I still had no idea what he wanted.

And then last week, when he found out I had been in his building at work, he was completely on again. He mentioned how thinking about having sex with me at work was a turn on for him, as opposed to what we had been doing. Excuse me? He reveals that coming over to mine in the morning seemed too planned and awkward to him. I point out that there’s not really another way to do this but to plan to which he agrees but then says that it went a little too easily and that scares him. Ah.

While I can understand it (sure, having to plan it this way is a little forced) but if he wants to cheat, I don’t really know what he was expecting. But I leave it, I’m not a bitch. He keeps hinting at having sex again, so I am not sure how exactly he wants to ‘plan’ it. Seriously, I am not even the one with a relationship yet I am having to do a little too much work for this than I’d like. Anyway, he has been away on a long weekend trip with his family, so I haven’t heard anything, and as usual, I will leave it up to him.

Also, next weekend I’ll be going on a semi business trip to the US for a week. Semi because I’ll be running a half marathon on behalf of my employer (with about 200 colleagues) and I’ve taken a few extra days to meet friends that happen to live in the same city and get some shopping done. I haven’t been in the US in 10 years, and I can’t wait! And secretly I am hoping to meet a hot Abercrombie stud!

He’s A Cheater

I’d prefer not to think about what that makes me. Anyway, the French colleague I had been exchanging rather revealing texts with, decided it was worth the risk. He wanted to come over. My hinting at ‘what does your girlfriend think of all your texting?’ was met with a ‘I’m at football training and she goes to bed before 10pm.’ Alright then. So the date was set for last Monday. He’d stop by before going to work. I’m not a huge fan of morning sex, especially when I don’t really know what time he’ll come and I have to be at work before 9, but hey. I’m willing to give it a try for good sex. And let’s face it; it had been a while.

He showed up at 7:50, which left me enough time for a shower. Instead of ringing my incredibly loud doorbell and waking up the neighbors, he knocked. Bonus points. I had been nervous about it being awkward; would he still be attractive, or had I fantasized about it too much? Awkwardness went out the window quickly as he was exactly as I remembered, and he didn’t waste any time.

I wish I could say it was amazing. It was okay, but he didn’t live up to the standard he’d set for himself. He’d told me he was a good kisser. He wasn’t. When he first kissed me I immediately worried; we all know what they say about bad kissers. He adjusted quickly though and got on with it. I’d say we were pretty efficient. Little bit of oral, and finishing off in doggy. He took a quick shower, and left. I did the same afterwards, and felt a little unsatisfied. Literally. I could tell he was used to doing the same thing over and over. There was potential, sure, but I needed to figure out whether I was disappointed or not.

Subsequently, I never contacted him. All the contact was initiated by him. Not in the least because I wasn’t going to be the one that made his girlfriend say ‘who the hell are you texting all the time?’. That day, he checked in to see if I was okay, and if I had any regrets. I wondered. No, I didn’t have any regrets, but when he asked if I enjoyed myself, I didn’t quite know how to answer. I think I had, but at the same time… should I tell him he didn’t need to be so gentle? Or that he talked too much? Or that I didn’t come? I did none of that. Shame on me.

He came round again on Thursday. I had decided to give him a second chance to see if I was right about his potential. Also, he continued to text me, which I thought was nice. He showed up at the same time, and seemed a bit more relaxed. Again he wasted no time, quickly stripped me out of my clothes and went down on me. And, I have to say, he was the first in a while spending a good amount of time eating me out. With success. Generally, the sex was a lot better, and I felt a whole better when he left, and I think he did too.

But then I didn’t hear anything all day. So I text him in the evening, asking how he is. He replies, and asks if I had a good time. I did, had he enjoyed himself? And then something like this happens. Let’s call him Louis.

Louis: Don’t get me wrong, but as a good guy it’s not always easy to find the right balance.

Me: (Balance is gone as soon as you cheat, but I don’t say that) Feeling guilty?

L: Not guilty, I did what I wanted to do, but the question is more how long I can continue if you see the difference.

Me: I’m not sure I get it, sorry.

L: No problem, even for me it’s hard to follow because I have various feelings going through my head.

And there is a short conversation of me telling him he doesn’t owe me anything and that he can just let me know what he wants to do. Which he says he’ll do when the 10.000 voices in his head calm down. Though, he has been texting me all weekend. For one; I don’t think he is a good guy, and I would have understood if he felt guilty. I was even surprised when he said he didn’t. I have no clue what he is on about. I can’t deal with indecisiveness, in whatever situation. I would completely understand if he wanted to quit, and I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it either.

I don’t understand how he would put a family on the line for booty, and how he can be so reckless, even. His girlfriend works for the same company. I have never seen her, but the risks that he is taking blow my mind. I could have known her, and be setting him up. I’m sure that hasn’t even crossed his mind. I’d never do such a thing, I care too much about my own reputation, but still. And if this continues, I am determined to get into his mind and find out about the psyche of a cheater. And what the above conversation means.

The Sex Vibe

I may have just found it again. After the months of absolutely nothing whatsoever, everything seems to be wide open again. To be honest, I haven’t really been making a proper effort at anything lately. My new job is completely consuming me, I have been on a few business trips too many, and if I was home, I wanted to spend time with friends and family. The thought it actively seeking it out hardly ever occurred.

But you know, some situations I can’t seem to avoid. So a couple weeks ago, I had to travel for work with one of my new teams. I didn’t know anyone, no one knew me, it was at a sunny beach, and somehow the men had singled me out. In the office, with my old teams, I am known as the queen of inappropriate with a select group of awesomely cool co-workers. We have fun, banter, sexual references left and right, you get it. Nothing ever happens, but at some point, it had been decided I was one of them. And I love them for it. Anyway, back to the beach. Maybe I have a vibe about me, but whatever it was, these guys had decided I would be able to keep up with them, they cornered me, we drank, we had fun, and I was happy things were working out.

I split off in conversation with one of them, who also happens to be French, though he could not be further from Sebastien. We got into a messy conversation, decided we were comfortable, and somehow the topic drifted to sex. By two in the morning, I knew a whole lot more about him than you’re supposed to get to know your colleagues within the first day. The good thing here was that we were sharing rooms. Eventually we went back, nothing had happened.

The next morning, he asked my number ‘to keep each other company’ in the long, boring meeting that was ahead of us. We texted all through the day, picking up where we left the day before, and even though we had an exciting conversation, I did remember the night before he had sad he was in a seven year relationship with a child. He didn’t seem too bothered with it, and I was curious to see how far he would and when he would bring it up again. We traveled home after the meetings, and texted until early hours in the morning. He flat out said I was lucky to be sharing my room, or I would have been in trouble. Admitted shamelessly staring at my behind during out workout, and suggested next time we do naked yoga. (Who wouldn’t want to hear that)

The next morning, I woke up to a text from him, and throughout the workday, we exchanged messages yet again. I made sure to get some dirt should it ever come down to it (you gotta have a back up plan being a girl), but all in all, it was pretty exciting. We sort of have see-through doors in our bathrooms at work, but somehow he had managed. Interesting. By this point I had established he is a cheater. Fabulous, yet again there’s someone that proves me right.

He is making plans to come over and put some action into out words. While I am curious to see how he’ll hold up, at the same time I wonder if I should not feel a bit more empathetic to his relationship. He is attractive but not someone I would fall in love with, and yes, I would be excited to have a new ‘sex friend’, as he calls it. (I swear I am not as trashy as I come off here)

If he doesn’t care, should I? Am I responsible for something here? But before all that, let’s see if he comes through…