Naked ironing man

This one is going to be hard to write.  This guy gets the blue ribbon for sex – probably the best yet (Ariel is a close second).  I really liked him.  He liked me too but it was not meant to be.  I’ve learned something from this – as I try to with all the experiences I’ve had.  Namely, that you can have a good physical and mental connection but if they aren’t ready for a relationship, ready to let you in to their life, there is nothing you can do about it.  Timing is everything.

I met him in early Nov when he reached out to me online.  He was one of the bumper crop.  I was debating getting off the naughty section of the dating site but I met him there.  His first note to me was intelligent and a bit saucy but respectful.  Well punctuated.  Which many of you will know is rare indeed.  Over a few days we exchanged long emails, establishing that we were both on that part of that site because we wanted someone who was sexually open and adventurous, but not because we wanted just sex.

During this exchange he made a joke about doing chores naked, like ironing.  I shared the photos I had on the site (the ones people can’t see without your permission). He said he was surprised by the nudity (and before you get all judgemental, know that it was partial nudity and all above the waist).   We moved to email.  I shared that I didn’t  believe that he hadn’t seen that before, since his profile said he’d been on the site since 2007.  He said I was the first person he’d met on this section.  I told him I was about to leave it.

This guy sent me the best photos ever.  The first one was him naked from the waist up, doing dishes.  Couple weeks later it was him with an iron in strategic places…this time he was totally naked.  The set I got just before we said goodbye were from below, him completely nude, no props, in the morning sun with some lovely morning wood 😉

Anyway. I digress.  We had a great couple dates.  He was intelligent and soft-spoken and very calm.  He was considerate and gentlemanly.  I remember the first date after we left the restaurant and were walking to my place and he put his hand in the small of my back.  It was such a small gesture but felt so nice.

The passion we had was fierce.  I don’t think I have the words to describe it.  With each interaction, it got hotter.  He was so sensual it was incredible.  We were very well matched in stamina and interests.  He told me once that he wasn’t used to having to plan a date where he knew there were still hours after dinner – that we didn’t have sex like “normal people” (duration, before your kink alarm goes off).  He was tall and athletic and we just fit.

So, what was the problem? Despite being only 15 minutes from each other, he could never make time.  Some nights we planned to see each other, he would get stuck at work (yes, actually at work…he wasn’t a player).  between times we would see each other, he would rarely communicate with me.  I would text him and it would be hours before I’d hear back.  Bottom line was, he liked his space and alone time and wasn’t so keen on letting me in.

This continued through January.  We would see each other maybe once a week if I was lucky, usually it was once every two weeks.  No phone calls between and a handful of messages each day, if that.  When we went out or came over the dates were great – they would last 12-18 hours and it was bliss.  But I found myself being so frustrated between those times.  Wondering if he really like me because surely you contact someone when you like them.  I thought perhaps he had someone else on the go (he didn’t).  It was driving me crazy.  The final straw was a party I was having with about 20 friends, at my place.  He had agreed to come.  He bailed last-minute saying he’d had a horrible day at work and wasn’t up to it.  I texted him saying it was causing me more pain than pleasure and the early times of a relationship are supposed to be fun – when you can’t wait to see each other and want to talk all the time.  Not ditch someone for laundry or because you’ve had a bad day.

He broke up with me by email.  We were supposed to meet and he said he just couldn’t keep hurting me.  He thought he was ready but he wasn’t.  Said the constant feeling of letting me down sucked.

Of course I gave him shit for doing this in an email.  He said it was hard enough to do, let alone in person.  It took us a couple of days to stop texting,  during which time he said he hasn’t ever experienced the kind of passion we had together.   But we agreed there was no way we could have just a physical relationship.

It’s times like these when it’s great to have girlfriends who support you.  A good friend, who knew I had also met a crazy alpha male Russian (who will definitely be written about), said that naked ironing man was a pussy and that Sochi (the nickname we gave the Russian) had the balls he had lost. That made me feel better, at least for a moment.

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0 thoughts on “Naked ironing man

  1. article is quite interesting and hopefully true happiness rays began to warm the hearts of us all, when we can share it with sincerity. Greetings from Gede Prama 🙂

  2. Pingback: Damaged Sochi Sex | ann st vincent

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