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.

Oh well

After the aborted mission of last week with the ex, I came home feeling a bit down. The ‘what if I had gone through with it’ kept lurking in the back of my mind. At the same time, I knew I was happier with that feeling than the irreversible regret of doing I wasn’t one hundred percent happy about. We texted back and forth for a bit, and he mentioned he had a girl flying over from Switzerland the weekend, and another from England to come see him the weekend after that. Right. By then I was a little fed up with the whole thing. I asked him if he had given them fair warning he would not engage in oral sex, but that he needed his dick sucked in return. He kind of laughed it off and then threw in that he just didn’t feel that way with me. Say whut? Was there anything I needed to know? No, he just didn’t feel like it. The honest truth, I was upset with his lack of respect and let the whole thing escalate. I told him I felt it was better to cut all ties. He said he didn’t understand where that came from, but oh well. Oh well. If I needed more reassurance, there I had it. I wished him good luck with all his whores, and that was the end of that.

On the upside, the Tinder sex date  kept messaging me. He asked to see me again and then settled on a weekday last week, which he had to cancel because he didn’t feel well. I was bummed. And horny. He immediately wanted to set up a new date, and said he was afraid I found him too much trouble and call the whole thing off. Guess he picked up on the ‘I-ain’t-taking-no-shit’ attitude. And so we rescheduled for last Saturday. As I had to be in his town anyway, he was quick to offer me a place to stay, and even came to pick me up from where I was to go back to his house. While walking (in heels, ugh!) he mentioned that he knows someone at my company, and that he’s told this person that he’s dating me. I wouldn’t call what we’re doing dating, but anyway. He’s got a tiny but super clean apartment, made me a drink, showed me a few videos of the festival he went to, and then jumped on me. Super easy. He’s a great kisser, and loves it too, if only he didn’t nearly rip out my nose ring while going at it, but oh well. We moved into his bedroom, and quickly got naked. His oral skills hadn’t improved greatly, but with a few subtle pointers, I quite enjoyed it. Again, I had to do some work to get him hard, but he got there. He threw me around a bit, I got a few good swats on my ass (yay!) and then he told me to sit on his face while I sucked him. No need to tell me twice. I don’t know what he did, but his fingers and mouth where everywhere. He had remembered my comment about ass play, and when he worked my ass while licking me, I came so hard I lost the plot for a bit. I don’t remember getting such a fantastic orgasm since the Musician. He asked if I was ready to fuck. Hell yeah. He was kind of sweet about it, he seems to want to make sure all the time I am okay with what’s going on. The shitty thing was that he lost his hard on after only a minute or so. I don’t know if it had been taking too long (a good two hours) or if it was the condom, though he didn’t say anything. Eventually he finished himself off. All good, though I always love to actually fuck. We’ll see how he gets on a third time, if there is.

Also, I am meeting the Stud on Saturday. I had told him straight up his message about his butterflies for a forty year old with a kid didn’t hit me as well as I had anticipated, even though I had had my doubts about him for a while. I actually hadn’t contacted him for a good two weeks, thinking that if he wanted to see me, he could make the effort. I told him since that sleepovers were no longer an option, he should come to my town since I was a little tired of the traveling back and forth. So, I’ll see how that goes, the likely scenario is that he’ll kind of forget to talk about what we’re supposed to (even though he even suggested it) and then I am too chicken to bring it up and wait until the last minute. I am kind of determined to not let that happen; he wanted to talk, so let’s talk. I’ve got some preparing to do. Like figuring out what the point is.

Finally, I have a Tinder date set up for Sunday. A normal date. I’ve been talking to this guy for a couple nights in a row, and he sounds pretty awesome. He’s got a man bun, works for a web designing agency, rides a motorcycle and plays the guitar. He seems to have stuff to talk about and doesn’t seem shy about the whole thing. So we’re going for drinks on Sunday afternoon, and dinner if we’re having a good time. I deserve a good date, for crying out loud.

Done Chasing

My Tinder sexdate from last Saturday happened! Up until an hour before, he was still texting me, and I could tell he was anxious. I told him we’d go for a drink, and if either of us didn’t like it, there was still plenty of time for him to get home. I was getting a little irritated myself, but when he got on the train, I went to pick him up. When I arrived at the train station, he was already there, and relieved to see me, as he’d been worried the bag-lady at the door was me. We went to a bar and while I could tell me was a little nervous, it was fine. He was a talker and I think he’s  just naturally a nervous person. He looked like his photos, though he was a little shorter than me and maybe he looked a tad older than his thirty three.

We had a few drinks, and when they cranked up the music, he wanted to leave. He paid (!) for the drinks, and off we went to my place. Had another drink, and thankfully he didn’t wait too long before making his move. After making out for a while he said he was glad I was a good kisser. Great. Off to the bedroom. We quickly undressed  each other, and after he pushed me down on the bed, he immediately went down on me. I remember the times when you wouldn’t do oral on one night stands, but I ain’t complaining. Unfortunately he didn’t excel, and so when I got bored I flipped him on his back, and it was then I realized he still had his briefs on. Even more, when I took them off, he wasn’t hard. Oh boy. My efforts by hand only got him half hard and he then told me to not worry, sometimes it took a while. Okay. I switched it to a sixty nine, and while he licked me, he put a finger up my ass. I came right then and there. I love ass play and loved that he’d picked up on it somehow. In the meantime, he had gotten very hard, and I could taste the pre-cum. Time to stop. I got him a condom, and he fucked me in missionary.

He fell asleep quite quickly afterwards, and even though he’d told me he was a spooner, I don’t think he touched me all night. In the morning, after a bad night’s sleep for me, I wanted him to go. He wasn’t into morning sex, which is fine, but then I want you out the door by nine. He did not. He took forever getting up, wanted to talk about the sex, and finally got up at ten thirty for a shower after I’d told him to a few times. He was gone by eleven. All in all, definitely a good experience, no different than picking someone up at a bar, and I’d do it again. He texted me that night he’d had a good time and good sex, so I guess it worked for him too.

Then, the guy I had a date with on Friday night has been in touch as well. I say in touch, but really it’s been me. I am the one to initiate messaging, and even though he responds super quickly and enthusiastically at that, I don’t think I’ll message him again. If he wants to see me again he’ll have to make some effort, and if not, that’s fine. I’m not gonna chase after him.

The Stud texted me last night to ask how my weekend was. I told him I’d had a date and a sleepover, which is his euphemism for sex. If he tells me about his little adventures, why wouldn’t I? And then I didn’t hear from him for a day. When I texted him this evening to ask what was up with that, he sent me a bunch of messages about himself. Not one question about my being sick (which he knew) and what not. And then he said he would be a little busy for the next couple weeks when I asked about meeting up. Call me suspicious, but in my mind, that’s an excuse for ‘I don’t really want to.’ And then he told me he had finished the business case for the sponsoring thing, and just needed to translate it. Well well. I feel like I am being used. So the plan is to wait for the case, respond to it professionally but inconclusive, and then wait for him to come up with a meet-up plan that is worthy of my looking at his business case. And if he doesn’t in the very near future he will get a piece of my mind.

I hate being used, and I have a sneaking suspicion he is in it for just that. Have the fucking guts to say it then.

I am very close to being done with him if won’t make some serious effort soon, and I am done chasing all these men. I’m over it. I’m tired. I deserve better.

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.

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!

The Ginger

I went on an OKCupid date last night. I hadn’t been talking to him for too long, but knew that he is a professional musician, able to live off of his passion by touring with bands across the US and Europe. He’s now back in Europe and taking it easy for the next few months. We had quite few similar things in our profiles, and he had good photos.

And so last night we met up in a city  halfway for both of us as we live an hour and a half away from each other. We went for drinks and while getting there he mentions how he is disappointed that my hair is not as red as his (he’s a proper redhead), but that the rest of me is alright, and he liked my shoes. Ah fair enough, dry sense of humor = good. So we get to the bar, sit down, and talk for hours straight. We talk about all the things you’re not supposed to talk about on a first date, religion, politics, past relationships. He’s very clear about being uncompromising. He doesn’t do labels, doesn’t do ultimatums. You’re in it or not. He does what he does and he will chose work or music over other things. Walk into it with your eyes wide open and don’t complain afterwards. I like his honesty, I do well on clarity. He’s not shy about saying he is having a good time, likes what he sees, and me? I smile and appreciate the no-nonsense.

The first time we check our clocks to make sure no one misses a train home it’s close to midnight, which means we’d been talking for four hours straight. And he has missed his train.  He shrugs, kisses me and asks if he can go home with me. I say yes, and stress out about the state of my apartment. This was the least I was expecting for tonight, and in a way, I had been relieved that this would not be an option as we live far away. But well, it’s happening and I feel okay about it. So we hop on the train, and on my bike to my apartment and get home before 1.

Naturally things progress, and we end up having sex, which was perfectly good, and non awkward. Afterwards, we have a shower together and try to get some sleep as I had work in the morning. He’s a spooner, mentions that I have a banging body (yay) and we fall asleep.

In the morning, he still looks the same (you never really know, do you) and we just lay and talk for a bit. By the time I should actually have gotten up we engage in a little bit of morning sex, but neither of us come and we call it a day. Still it’s not awkward, which makes me a little uncomfortable, because usually by this time I can’t wait to get rid of them. We shower, I get ready for work and he lounges around for a bit. When we leave the house, he fixes my bike for me (the tire had gone flat from the night before) and we set off to the train station for him, work for me. I sit on the back and love getting a ride to work. Doesn’t happen often! When we get to the station we say goodbye with a quick kiss and he says he’ll be in touch.

I continue onwards to work where I only arrive 10 minutes late, and have to explain to the girls why I am late and if that has anything to do with last night. We laugh and they ask what I’ll do next. I will do what always do; wait. I wait to see if they change their mind, if they were just being polite and I wait until I am 100% sure they are actually into me before I invest time and emotions.

I don’t have to wait long; I get a message before lunch that he’s home and has had a good date. We text back and forth for a bit, and both say that we’re tired and would like to meet again. No dates are set, but I feel good about it. Until, later in the day, I remember one thing he had said last night. “If I really like someone, I have no immediate need for sex”…

Ouch.

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.

Regrets

You might remember I talked about a trip to the US I was taking for work last week. Well, that has come and gone, and I’m back, and not completely unscathed, if you will! Let me start at the beginning.

You may even remember that I went for a running event. I went to participate in what could possibly be the biggest relay race in the world (yup, google that and you’ll know where I’ve been) that spans just about 200  miles. About 50 teams from offices around the world in my company participate, and we went with about 200 people from my office. We were made up of teams of 12, and in my team, we all happened to kind of know each other. Technicalities.

So I arrived a few days early, did the tourist thing, and then as of last Wednesday, we were in full fledged pre-race programs. We visited our head offices, trained some more, did some teambuilding and had lots or carb and protein filled dinners. (Read burgers and beer.) On one of those nights, I happened to be the last woman standing at our fancy hotel bar, together with, let’s call him John. John is the last man standing and I am not surprised. He’s British and knows where to put it. John is in my team and I had never really talked to him, because he always seemed like kind of a dick. Anyway, we finish our last drink, and decided to hit a famous strip club in town. Colleagues had told me to go there, and he was up for it. Though once we hit the elevator, he made his move and pushed the button for his floor. We got off, ran into his roommate in the hallway, and before I knew it, he was told to ‘go hang out’ for a while.

John latched the door, and he is not as drunk as I thought he was, as he has no problems getting it up. So we get to business. I have to ask him twice for a condom, and twice he bluntly tells me ‘it’s not happening’. In my inebriated mind (or that’s what I tell myself, I wasn’t that drunk) I am thinking ‘a little longer, I’ll stop on time’. He is a fantastic kisser, though that is hardly good enough reason. Somehow I snap out of it though, and leave him. Just in time, as his roommate has had enough and wants to get back into the room.

Back in mine, I take a shower, get into bed and hate myself for what has just happened. I can’t believe I’ve gone that far, with another colleague yet again and this time someone else knows. I manage to fall asleep, but wake up feeling exactly the same the next day. I’m disgusted with myself and don’t know what to do. We have another day of teambuilding and during the actual race, we’ll be together in a van for 30 hours. I don’t see him at breakfast, which is good, but once we get on the bus to go to the office, he’s there. He mouths a ‘okay?’ and I nod. During the day I stay away from him a little, but he doesn’t make special efforts to do the same. Eventually we go through a little small talk to test the waters, and it’s not too awkward.

The next day, the race starts, and I decided to be as good as this thing as I normally am. And so we’re stuck in the van with our other 4 teammates, joke around, do our runs, and I am the navigator for a while when he drives in the middle of the night. All goes well and there is no awkwardness. At occasional times we are alone when he walks me to my starting point or when others are sleeping, and it’s all good. Sometimes I feel he is about to take a breath and address the situation, but he never does and neither do I. I feel that there are things unsaid, and I have to bite my own tongue. I am not that girl. He’s nice to me, sticks up for me when the vicious gay guy in our van bitches at me, and apologizes when the team is not there for when I finish the race in the last leg. I can’t help but think he does this out of guilt, after all he hated my guts and he must be nervous about opening my mouth.

We’re on the same flight back, as well as his roommate. We all have breakfast at the airport, have a horrible flight with puking, screaming kids and then say our goodbyes at our home airport. He and I are the last ones to wait for our trains, and as I only have 2 minutes before mine leaves, we have a quick hug and don’t say much. And today, not exactly looking my best, I run into him at the office. Awesome.

So all in all, I have myself to blame for this. I don’t feel any less awful about it than I did last week. When will I learn? I keep saying I deserve better, but maybe I don’t. I am going to let this go completely, but feel unhappy about the whole thing. Ugh. Feel free to comment with your advice or judgements!