Dates, dates, dates

I went on two dates this weekend. On Friday morning, I had a coffee date with the redheaded yogi from OKC. We met at the local coffee joint (he had biked half an hour through the rain) and it was all very civilized. A little skinny for my taste, but he had his stuff together, was easy to talk to and not nervous at all. And, he was very efficient. After two hours, on the dot, he put and end to it. He might be a serial dater and working a strategy! He offered to keep me company if my NY’s eve plans still fell through and followed up with a text this morning. I told him I straightened it out (really don’t want to go there just yet) but took him up on his offer for a second date. I’m not really into him, but I keep telling myself off not to write them off so quickly anymore.

Date number two was last night with the Tinder guy. We met at the train station, and made our way into town for drinks. Physically, I was not attracted to him. He had a good face, but he was small, and a little boyish. But, we had a good time, he was easy to talk to and had so much in common it was a little eery. On top of that, he’s a survival expert, very outdoorsy and does stuff like IronMan. He held open doors for me and brought me back to the train. I really wanted to like him…

Then! The POF guy. On Friday night, I was supposed to meet him, but when he told me he was hoping he’d recognize me and I told him he would because my picture was recent, he confessed his wasn’t. Major red flag. I told him I’d appreciate it if he would send me a recent photo as this did not make me feel comfortable. He said I shouldn’t judge by one photo, and that it was too late now because time and place had been set. Oh hell no. Staying home sounded like a better option. I told him just that, after which he finally emailed me a photo. Exactly what I expected. It wasn’t awful, but he didn’t look anything like the one online. So I cut him off with a short message that I didn’t appreciate being mislead and that for me, it’s a flag for more issues. He sent me four (!) emails to say how disappointed he was with me and what not. Glad I dodged that one.

Finally, the Ginger got in touch with me, to inform me he wasn’t excited about spending NY’s eve together. Mind you, I had never confirmed we would. But, he added, he didn’t say it to be mean. I told him the way he said it was indeed mean, but that I had gotten used to that with him quite quickly. I told him again to delete my photos, how to use the pills I’d sent him a while ago and best of luck with everything. He said he wasn’t trying to be mean, he just wanted to be honest with me but he sometimes had troubles voicing his feelings. They were not black or white when it came to me, and they were ever changing. Could he still let me know how the pills worked out? And he did like chatting to me. Clearly this man is scared to let go of something. I’m not gonna be kept on the back-burner, thanks a lot. Make up your damn mind and until then, leave me alone because I can’t be hung up on you. And please stop ending your messages with X-es.

So, NY’s eve. Just when I had decided that maybe I should stay home, give myself a break and reflect for a bit, my friend Anna convinced me to come to her neighborhood party. She is even nice enough to drive me home afterwards. Home alone or champagne amongst people? People it is.

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Back on the horse

Despite all the changes of heart I’ve had and the back and forth in between my feelings about the situation with the Ginger; I haven’t texted him. Yay. He sure has texted me though. I have replied sporadically, but what it comes down to is I feel like he is confused, and with this holiday month, he’s not so happy about being alone. He hasn’t heard anything from him friends (wonder why if he’s treated them the same way), and he realizes the toll his lifestyle has taken on his social life. So he’d rather settle for the moment as to not be alone and then come January, someone’s gonna get hurt again. When he found out I have no plans for NY’s eve, (curses for all my friends having babies) he was quick to suggest we could celebrate and get drunk together. I ain’t gonna be your backup plan, my friend.

So I have thrown myself back into the dating game. When stuff like this happens my mind always goes into overdrive and I get nervous about being 30 and alone. (how sad). Tomorrow, I have a coffee date with a guy that practices yoga as much as I do. And, oh cruel twist of fate, is a redhead as well. We talked for a bit on OKC, and I know little about him except that he’s a physiotherapist. We’ll see how that goes.

Then on Saturday, I’m going for a drink with a guy off Tinder. My first Tinder date! He’s quite attractive, I dare say out of my league, but he seems a little too eager to meet. He texts a little too much and he even kind of invited me over for NY’s. Mind you, we haven’t even met yet. Hopefully it’s harmless, but I foresee a man with issues.

Finally I’m setting up a date with a guy from POF that I know absolutely nothing about. Keeps it interesting!

On being a jerk

After feeling apprehensive about Sebastien and his tendency to talk about sexual preferences through text messaging, I had not been in touch with him all week, and neither had he. Until today.

He sent me a message asking to talk on Skype, and as I wasn’t doing anything, I logged on. The conversation quickly shifted to sex and plans for the night. As neither of us had any, it’s decided that he comes over. Again he kind of wants me to do a list of things, and I’m feeling ballsy and call him out on it. I tell him he expects a whole lot from me when it’s supposed to be playful and fun for both us us, and that he’s making me feel uncomfortable by doing so. He goes back and forth a bit and says that that’s not what he’s going for, but that I shouldn’t be shy and let him know what I want from him. Missing the point buddy. I told him straight up that it’s not going to happen this way and if that’s all he wants, good luck finding someone else no strings attached. We all know how easy that is for men. He either gets nervous or genuinely gets it, and profusely apologizes. Fair enough, I’m all for second chances.

So half hour beforehand, I hop in the shower, do my thing, and look for something to wear that’s good enough but does not match all of his requirements. (He must learn). But before putting on my clothes, I check my phone. Gut feeling. I have one message that reads: ‘Can we do it tomorrow? I’m feeling lazy.’ Oh Hell No. If it were possible to have steam coming out of my ears… I send him a message saying that I am going to be lazy tomorrow so no, that will not work. Are you fucking kidding me? He then comes on Skype to say he is not in the mood. I tell him I am not in the mood tomorrow, and that maybe we should forget about the whole thing because he always seems to be lazy or tired. He disagrees, and I tell him that expecting a bunch of things from me and then canceling half hour before is seriously uncool. He agrees on that, and then that’s the end of our conversation.

There we go. He’s a jerk. Turning down casual sex because you’re ‘lazy’ is first of all the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard, and second of all, if you’re not into me after all, man the fuck up and say it. I’m still upset; excuse me while I go have a glass of wine!

When in doubt…

Yesterday, I woke up to the following text; ‘I dreamed about a threesome tonight.’ Signed, Sebastien. Good morning to you to. Mind if I have breakfast first? When I didn’t reply, he sent another one. ‘Are you into that?’.

This got me thinking. Maybe this whole friends with benefits / fuckbuddy thing is not for me. He might be the odd one out, but he has a few too many requirements than I prefer. Before our first date, he’d been very vocal about what he wanted me to wear. Stockings, lace and heels, to be exact. Even if I owned a pair of granny panties I wouldn’t have dared wearing those, but he seemed all too worried. Dude, you’re getting laid. Forward to his wanting nude pictures, video chat, asking about anal and now ever so ‘subtly’ bringing up threesomes, and I am uncomfortable.

I’m far from green, but the awkwardness lies in the feeling that’s creeping up on me. As nice as Sebastien is face to face, these things won’t come up but on text. His persistence irritates me. I have met him only a few things and he’s managed to make me feel cheap already. I know that’s (probably) not his intention and it’s my tremendous skill to over analyze everything, but one way or the other, I don’t want to be treated as a slut to obey his every wish. Oh and I know, I might be overreacting.

I love sex, and I was quite pleased to have someone on the regular, but if this is how it goes, I might have to let it go. I thought this was going to work out as I have no romantic feelings for him and we click sexually, but I guess it’s harder than I thought. Silly me for thinking it would be an easy hookup and have fun with it without too much hassle!

But then again, if I wanted to be reminded of an actual jackass, remember Sean? Saturday night at 9pm, he sent me 5(!) texts in a row asking if I wanted to jump on a train and come see him. Sure, as if I didn’t have a life of my own, let alone jump on a train late at night for a bad fuck. But to tease him a little bit, I suggested that it wasn’t very gentleman like for him to make me travel late, but that he was more than welcome to jump on the train himself. Needless to say, I am still waiting for an answer.

The Big No

Last night, Sebastien, the French guy came over again. It had taken a while after our first ‘date’, he’d  been working late nights and I had caught the flu. Add to that a few last minute cancellations on the days we did try, and it’s two weeks later.

In those two weeks however, we’ve been in touch quite a bit. Now I’m not much for sexting or Skyping and stuff, but he sure is. What would start off as innocent ‘what time do you get off work?’ texts quickly evolved into ‘I’m into anal these days, how do you feel about that?’ Uh… well now. One; I have only met you once. Two; I might be, but would never tell you just yet. Three; what is the deal with anal these days? I seem to be missing a trend here. Anyway, one night on Skype chat he states the obvious; he’s horny, how about I send him some pictures? That was also the night I was sick, which I had told him. I tell him no. There is no way in hell I am photographing myself buck naked to send to a guy. The internet is a dangerous place. He seemed to accept it, but only minutes later asked for it again. Dude, read my words. I am sick. Are you seriously expecting me to strip down, put on sexy stuff and start clicking away? I don’t think so. Do I want to go on video chat then? Hell. No. Oy… The real thing is so much better.

So finally, last night was the night. I finally felt better (he was terrified of catching anything as he can’t afford to be sick work wise) and he didn’t have to work too late. He came with wine and his good looking self. During the day I hadn’t really been into it, but as he had been talking about what he wanted to do to me, I was reminded when I saw him. We barely finished one glass of wine before he started taking off my clothes. He was eager, and before I knew it, I was fully naked on my couch. I have met few men who knew what they were doing with their tongue down there, and he wasn’t one of them. Shame, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. The one thing I love is that he’s an ass man. I love a bit of attention down there, and he definitely wasn’t shy about it. He puts my leg behind my head and fucks me, and I finally get him off by hand as he wants to come on my breasts.

We sit around and talk for a bit afterwards, have another glass of wine, and I’m thinking I wouldn’t mind if he went home. I’m hungry, and want to sit around for a bit before going to sleep because I have an early morning. So when he asks if I would scream at him if he took off, I shake my head. But then he sees my Buddha Air picture and enthusiastically starts telling me about airplanes. Half an hour later he’s gone, and I clean the room up a bit.

He’s a nice guy, though I think he’s one of those that would bore me to death over dinner, even though we have stuff to talk about. He texts when he says he will, hasn’t shown up empty handed, and he’s honest. Even calling him a friend with benefits would be too much, as we just have a mutual agreement to fuck when convenient.

I feel like this post is a bit all over the place this time, which is my state of mind today! It’ll be better next time, promised.

Oh La La…

Le French…! All of a sudden things progressed very quickly with the French guy who had canceled on me last weekend, and I found myself having a drink with him in the cold sunshine on Monday. After having the friend with benefits conversation I had told him that we would need to meet for drinks first, to see if there was at least some mutual attraction and general getting along there. He agreed, and we had a very impromptu before-dinner drink. So we sat, comfortably chatted for an hour, and parted ways. I found him very attractive, well dressed, jaw line length floppy hair, and the French accent in place. I wasn’t sure he felt the same about me. Let’s face it, he’s way out of my league.

When I got home I got a text; he had enjoyed meeting me and regretted not meeting earlier. I felt the same way, and naturally the conversation progressed into himself inviting him to my place. He stays at a B&B while looking for an apartment and is not allowed any guests, and I had told him before meeting I would not invite strangers to my house. Long story short, he came carrying a bottle of wine, we had a few glasses, and just as I was wondering if he was chickening out, he wanted to know what I was wearing underneath my skirt. Well, glad you asked!

I dragged him to the bedroom and he jumped on me, appreciating what I had on before taking it off, which is a big plus in my book! He was playful and it was hot. He had no problems getting and keeping it up (pfew) and made good efforts to pace himself. While I was reminded that my bed is embarrassingly noisy (hello, neighbor!) he literally fucked me, no inhibitions, and it’s been a while I’d been that worked up. In a good way. Relief feels so good.

Afterwards, he lingered for a bit, had a shower, “washed his little friend” (cue French accent) and we had a drink. He eventually left, texted me 10 minutes later he got home, thought it had been very hot, and loved the way I looked. You gotta love a guy for noticing.

The next day he texted me if I was alright, and stated he’d like to do it again, he’d enjoyed himself a whole lot. Well, me too, me too… Seems like he is a nice guy, so stay tuned for round number two!

In Limbo

Something is off this week. After feeling like I was being punked last week, people are canceling on me left, right and center. Not only that, but I’ve been on the receiving end of some offensive messages online as well. Not everyone takes rejection well I suppose, even though I’ve been pretty nice about it this week!

So after the French guy who ‘forgot’ our date last week, I gave another French guy a chance on POF. (how many French fo they have around there?) We talked for a bit and decided to meet up on Friday for a drink. Having learnt my lesson, I texted him 2 hours before if he was still going to make it. Three hours later, I received an answer saying he was really tired and needed to relax from his work week. Having anticipated this, not having received a reply before the actual meet up time, I had made other plans, but I was not amused. You’re not the only one with a job my friend. At least have the decency to cancel ahead of time. He texted me the next day asking if I was upset, apologizing profusely. I was not upset, I hadn’t really waited around for him, but still. Could he have another chance today? Fine. He told me to meet him at the train station at 6 and we’d go for a drink. Again, I texted him beforehand. This time I got an immediate reply. He was still in Amsterdam, but he would let me know when he’d be back and we could go then? Are you fucking kidding me? I told him I had gone to do something else. He wasn’t being very respectful of my time.

Maybe the real reason I  have him a second shot was because he had been so honest about what he was looking for. He had asked if I would still want to meet up if I knew he was looking for fun more than anything else. On my question on whether he was looking for a friend with benefits, he was honest. Now I can appreciate honesty, and I can work with it. Besides, it would be kinda nice to have one on my beck and call. Shame it’s not working out!

Meanwhile, Sean continues to text me. Last week, during dinner with Anna, we had decided he could be my friend with benefits. I have no feelings for him, though he amused me, and if he could continue to deliver like he finally had last time, it could be super convenient. At least I wouldn’t have to go out and actively look. But as I replied to his messages, there was radio silence on his end. Oh well. I can see he’s still super active on OKC (he’s even messaged Adya, who’s on there as well) so there you go. He may have found another victim. I have disabled my OKC profile for a while as the ridiculous messages kept pouring in, and I’m tired of being called a bitch if I don’t reply.

The only guy I’m talking to now on POF is a 36 year old Dutch guy, he’s black and he’s huge. He seems to be genuinely interested, so with this one I’ll probably take it a bit easy!