I will write more about this, but let’s just say, I currently have my freedom. To do whatever I want with whomever I want.
Yes, I’m in an open, long-distance relationship with my long-distance boyfriend, Johnny Id. If you don’t know the story, it’s worth reading (in my humble opinion).
Even better for me, I suppose, is we agreed to him being closed and me being open. It’s a long story, but given the alternatives, it was the best decision of a bad lot. I would not have reacted well to anything I considered a restriction on my hard-won freedom.
So…anyone who has read about My Lovers or the Men I’ve Slept with (in three parts!!) might wonder why, since Johnny left a month ago, I haven’t posted anything about any new sexcapades. It’s okay, I get it and am not offended. I have a crazy high sex drive and have exhibited little, if any, restraint when it comes to men and sex.
So – Newsflash – Ann St. Vincent can fuck whomever she likes, whenever she likes.
Let me add to the background that since Johnny left, I’ve heard from two recurring characters (yes, that’s the right word) on this blog. P / Shenanigans, and The Chef (just go to my Lovers page for the stories about them). Also a dude who I’ve never written about, who was someone I met a while ago online and we never met and it just faded away.
They all came back.
Regarding P: I though it weird that I kept seeing those alerts on my POF app on my phone. My profile is hidden and I figured it was those annoying notices about “new matches” which I always ignored. But then one day I got two in a day so opened the app to check it out. He’d been sending me texts in the last place he knew where to reach me. Several over the previous many weeks.
They were actually pretty funny to read; he got all upset that I was ignoring him (which I was, but not knowingly). Ended up saying that he missed me and was sorry he acted so badly and asked for my mobile number. I ignored him and he kept messaging me so I finally responded with something like “Why would I want to talk to you again? Why on earth would I expect to have an outcome any different from the last several times?”. Subsequently, he’s been contrite.
I could certainly go there. He’s a known entity, and actually would be rather a good choice for an open relationship because I think he’s an asshole and there’s no chance in hell of me falling in love with him, getting caught up in relationship bullshit, etcetera. It would just be sex.
On to the chef:
He hadn’t ever really gone away. As I’ve written before, he would send me the occasional text message asking me if I wanted to have sex with him, providing a handy cock shot as a reminder, and asking for a tit pic. He’d been quiet of late, ever since I told him he wouldn’t get a pic of me until after I saw him again. I had no intention of seeing him again but knew it would work.
Until a few weeks ago when he reached out again.
Like P, there’s no chance of anything with this guy. It would only be sex. Definitely no strings. And he was a decent lay and pretty cute.
I found myself, on many occasions, staring at my phone and their invitations and thinking – okay Ann, here’s your chance to get laid! You just gotta respond…say the world…they’re all yours.
You know what I felt?
I’m not interested. I could care less about fucking these guys.
Knock me over with a feather.