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.

Mediocrity

I had been meaning to write a final post before the year ended, but the truth is I spent the last two weeks either drunk or hungover. I don’t work between Christmas and New Year’s, so naturally it was spent socializing. I’m paying the price for it today! Sick and back to work tomorrow. Anyway. I normally write one post per date, but wanting to wrap it up I will include all three I had over the last fourteen days.

The first date I had was with a guy from Tinder (of course). We met for drinks and got along fairly well, and while he ticked all my physical appearance boxes, hipster beard, undercut, tall, I hated his smile. That sounds terrible, but when he smiled, he looked like a six year old boy. He was much more attractive when he put his serious face on. He’d been married at the age of twenty five and divorced by twenty eight, and has a history of depression. All things I could live with, though the depression part would worry me. It was getting pretty late, and he said I could sleep on his couch if need be. The prospect of sex still sounded pretty good to me, so I agreed. When we got to his place, I was thoroughly impressed. He lived right downtown but away from the noise, and had a very stylish masculine apartment. Very industrial, but with a few cool touches like a rope swing in the living room. Impeccable taste. And then he said ‘I will go get a pillow and covers for you.’ I stood there, utterly flabbergasted. What guy lets a women he brings home sleep on the couch?! When he got back into the room, he looked at me and kind of seemed at loss for what to do or say. But by that point, I was angry and done. I have an excellent, expensive bed at home and somehow I got suck on this guy’s couch. I told him to go to sleep, got out my phone and ignored him. He left. I typed out the story to my friend so she’d have something fun to read when she’d wake up, and I settled on the couch. Then ten minutes later, he comes back into the room, scurries around, grabs my coat and goes to the balcony to smoke. I pretended to be asleep. He’d missed his window of opportunity. Before I fell asleep, I decided to sneak out in the morning. When I woke up at nine, he was still sound asleep in the bedroom. But when I picked up my phone, I saw he had sent me a message saying he’d had a good time half an hour after we’d gone to sleep. I mean. for fuck’s sake. He’s sleeping ten meters away in the other room and he sent me a fucking text?? So I snuck out. Hours later he messaged me he hadn’t noticed my leaving. I pretty rudely replied that that had been my intent, and that no one had ever made me sleep on the couch, ever. He confessed he never meant for me to accept the couch, but he was too drunk to turn that situation around. A man that is not assertive enough to get a woman to sleep in the same bed with him is a no go for me.

Date number two was with a musician, one that actually looked like my musician ex as well. He came to my town for drinks and when I saw him, I thought he was alright, but another one of those too sweet. The night was alright, he ended up missing his train so came home with me. We were both ridiculously drunk. As in when we got home, we had to sit on the floor and try to drink water. We tried to have sex. As in, he tried, but had had too much to drink to get it up. He did a stellar job in sixty-nine so I’ll forgive him for it, but the next morning I wanted him to leave. He told me what a great time he’d had about four times. Don’t like that. I’m not here to validate you. Also, once is enough. It creeps me out. Thankfully he left at nine, texted me again to say the same thing and did it again on Tinder(!) the next day. I let him down gently a few days later.

Date number three was on the day before New Year’s eve. It was a spontaneous one, I was being challenged on my being impulsive, so I had to prove it. I went to his city for drinks, and when I walked in I was relieved that this one was finally attractive to me. He seemed to be a bit awkward in the beginning, but he had a good smile and was eloquent. We went on to the next bar, and I found out he lives in one of the fanciest areas, has paid off his apartment in full, has quit his job and money wise, is able to sit on his ass for the next year. He’s thirty two. I was impressed. As the night went on, I caught him on a few yawns. After about an hour of that, I told him I was gonna go home. Either he was tired or bored. He was tired, but promised to switch to water because he didn’t want me to go. So we had a few more drinks, and eventually went home. We hadn’t even made out. His apartment was huge. And fancy. He gave me champagne. Eventually we made out on the couch and took it to the bedroom. We fooled around for a bit and before I knew it, he’d put on a condom. Not even sure if he was fully hard but before I knew it, it was over. I think it lasted shorter than ten minutes. He took care of me afterwards, but I was a little surprised, though I hid it. I hope the alcohol was to blame, and I also thought I smelled a hint of weed on his beard. We fell asleep, or he did, and I found out he’s the cuddling kind. Yay. The next morning I made the mistake of going to the bathroom and when I came back, he was dressing. No morning sex. Crap. It was a little awkward, so I didn’t stay for breakfast, though we’ve been texting a bit, so he might be a little interested. I might go and find out this week.

So that’s how I wrapped up the year. I’d say having sex on the last day of it would be a good omen for this year, but at the same time I am done with mediocre dates and worse, mediocre sex.

And then let’s not forget about my poker player. He’s still on my mind. A lot. We texted a bit two weeks ago, I asked him how his move was going, he replied with a photo essay including a photo of his dad. I should probably, at some point, tell him he’s on my mind. Just casual like that. I’d like him to come back, I want to see him again. I want to know if he thinks of me.

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

 

He wore flared curduroys

This post took a bit longer than planned as my hard drive crashed last week. Thank God some Geniuses were able to fix it and restore all my data at that! I wonder if they saw my bookmarked dating accounts…

Anyway, I went on an OKC date last Sunday. I think my statistics were up again and I was due for boredom. When he walked up I thought he was alright, but he was a case of ‘buthisface’. While I could get over flared corduroys (though, seriously?) I cannot get over jacked up hands. Yuck. He was nice to talk to, but not interesting. Add the previous, and it was an unsuccessful date. I have not heard back from him either, which probably means he’s thinking something along the same lines.

Then I am in touch with a Tinder guy that texts at nine thirty PM that he’s free tonight. Dude. I am easy sometimes but not when I don’t know who the fuck you are. When I told him I wasn’t that easy he told me he was joking and subsequently blocked me. How funny.

Also last week, I landed in a heated argument with the Musician. As I mentioned, we’d been texting and he’d been playing his usual ‘I might come over’ game. This time he took it as far as am I on the pill? So when I took him up on it a few days ago, I heard the expected excuses, but did not let him get away with it. I phoned him up and straight up told him that he’s an asshole, he has issues, doesn’t know what the hell he wants and is taking advantage of the situation. He was upset. In fact he doesn’t know what he wants, he is always on the lookout for something better to come along. I told him he doesn’t give a shit who he texts, he just texts me because I reply. He hasn’t got the slightest clue or interest in how I am. He denied, but apologized for a bunch of stuff in the end. He very kindly texted me for my birthday the next day, so I guess he isn’t the sort to hold grudges.

Pfew, anyway, I am seeing the Stud tomorrow. I managed to get him a sample of something he wanted  and need to drop it off. I am being way too nice by not only giving it to him, but also dropping it at his house while he is too busy to go for drinks. I know that he genuinely is, so don’t hold it against him. It kind of leaves him in debt I suppose, but I just want to do something nice for him, hopefully it’ll be good karma, because I want to get laid. I am seeing him at nine thirty, which is way late. I am not expecting to be out the door within fifteen minutes  with a ‘yo, thanks!’, but since we’ve established he’s allergic to commitment at the moment, I doubt he’ll be in for sex. Ugh. Why am I doing it? Nice, be nice…

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.

Tinder… the sequel

I am ecstatic to report my dry spell has been broken. And here’s the story how.

As you might remember, I went on a date with a guy I met on Tinder last Tuesday. Yeah, the bisexual. I was still as excited about it as I was earlier in the week, and when he suggested dinner, I was pleasantly surprised. I haven’t been on a dinner date in a while, usually it’s just drinks. He had asked if I had any day plans, but I’d told him yes as that would have been an exceptionally long date considering this was the one where I’d probably stay over. So we agreed on meeting at 7 at a cool burger and wine bar.

I probably was a little nervous as I always wonder if they’re going to be as attractive as I remember, but as soon as I walked in and saw him waiting at the bar, I was at ease. He was exactly the same. Seriously hot. We had to wait for our table and had no issues talking, like last time. I warned him that I had gotten two wisdom teeth removed surgically earlier in the week, so I had an excuse if I wasn’t holding my liquor very well, and also for chewing on the one side mostly. Charming, no? Well, he sympathized.

Eventually we got to our table, and sat there for nearly three hours while we ate, talked, I made a mess of myself, he admitted hamburgers was probably not the best idea for a date and we drank. When the bill came, he straight up said he’d loved to pay, but wasn’t able to financially, and hoped I didn’t mind splitting. Fair enough, I can appreciate that. Off we went to a bar for another drink, but I was starting to wonder if I had been misreading things. As lovely as his company was, he wasn’t flirty, or touchy-feely at all. Not one bit.

We had one drink at the bar, where he ran into some colleagues, and eventually suggested we go back to his place for a last one. Seeing as it was past midnight, and I did have work the next morning, I readily agreed. He lives in a small apartment, right in the middle of the city, could not get any better location wise, and I figured that’d come in handy in the morning when I’d have to run for my train home. He had a beer and I switched to water, being a little nervous my stitches would dissolve with all the alcohol or something. We sat and chatted and I was really starting to second guess myself. This could become awkward real quick. He would inch closer every now and then, but not enough to convince me to go for it.

At 1:30 in the morning I told him it was time to go to sleep. I was confused at this point. If anything were to happen my night was going to be short and shorter, but he was impossible to read. So instead of making out and falling onto the bed, we just stripped down and got in. It took him another half hour or so, but finally, I think he had scraped together enough courage to give it a try. He was way too hot to be that hesitant.

I gotta say, it was worth the wait; the sex was hot! If I had any worries he wouldn’t know what to do with a woman, they vanished quickly. He’s a biter (love it!) completely went to town on me, and enjoyed it, too. As did I. Not only was he hot with his clothes on, when the clothes came off he still was. And, it had been a while since someone has been able to make me come with just their fingers. He took care of me, and I returned the favor, but wanted a dick inside me, so rode him there. Glad I did, because I have never seen a guy fill up a condom as much as he did.

By the time we went to sleep, it was well past three. He got a firm hold of me, and started snoring away. Every now and then I had to give him a push to make him stop so I could fall asleep, and I think I probably got about 2,5 hours before my alarm went off. It didn’t wake him up, so I slid out of the bed, and quickly dressed. By the time I was done, he was still sleeping. I stressed for a few minutes. I absolutely hate it when they don’t wake up (or worse, pretend not to) and you don’t know what to do. Eventually I figured that since this was a second date, I’d wake him. He, of course, was totally fine, and I left.

It was weird to me that someone so attractive was apparently not confident enough to take the lead and secondly; that a guy like that was into me. I guess we both had our insecurities. But today we’ve been exchanging texts and expressed that we’ve had a good time and would like to see each other again, so hopefully soon!