We arrived at my place, got inside, I took off my coat, and Gregory was on me instantly. Gone were the perfect kisses I liked. They were replaced by full tongue-down-my-throat action. I don’t know I can call them kisses, I don’t know what the hell they are. I usually end up not knowing exactly what to do.
Those kisses are gross, guys. I feel skewered and unable to react. There’s a difference between a momentary thrust of a tongue down a throat… but keep it there? A whole lot of NOPE.
He didn’t want wine, he only wanted me. We stood in the same place for a while – his hands all over me, his tongue down my throat – until we agreed to go upstairs. Once again, we didn’t spend any time on my couch.
I don’t have a sex bucket list. I actually find the notion to be limiting rather than freeing.
I suppose I’ve actually already done a hell of a lot, so there’s that. I was 18 when I had my first MFM threesome.
But, I can only add things I am aware of (and I’m constantly learning of new sexual things out there). If I don’t check something off a list, not only does it run counter to my nature, it makes me feel like I’ve failed.
Also, because I’m driven to cross things off my lists and I hate to fail, it could drive me to do something just because it’s on my list, rather than because the situation and person is right.
Bottom line is, for me, it engenders the wrong behavior and has the chance to limit and hurt.
I’m weird that way I guess.
That’s not to suggest there aren’t things I want to try. They are in my head, not written down, and I wait for the magic trifecta of right time, place, and person (or persons!).
Mr Fox and I had three dates in three days. We had not had sex although he’d given me an orgasm.
I completely forgot something important in my last post. When I asked him to come upstairs to my bedroom, I paused and realized I might have to explain my bruises. So I pulled away from our kissing, looked him in the eyes and said:
“If you come upstairs with me, you may see my ass. Which means I need to tell you about something you are going to see. I am very bruised.
I’ve been exploring my sexuality and one thing I was curious about was my submission, in particular being “beaten” as it’s unfortunately called. So this past Friday night I met a Dom at this sex club and he had me on a St. Andrew’s Cross – do you know what that is? – and I was naked in front of an audience and he beat me. And I liked it.”
I paused and looked at him, questioning. He paused then said: “that is so fucking hot.”Continue reading →
When I wrote my last post, the one about Shenanigans, I was sitting at my kitchen island, crying, having a personal pity party. I had come home from time with a work colleague who is turning into a friend. She had taken me out for dinner and we’d had cocktails, shared a bottle of wine, and ate what she called “obviously we aren’t trying to pick up” food because it was deep fried and plenteous. It had been a fun night.
I was fine when I was out, surrounded by people. But home alone in a quiet house, the noise in my head telling me how much I missed Tony was impossible to block out.
I didn’t need any more alcohol. It was too early for me to go to bed. I was filling my time writing my post and discussing Tony and Mr. Tinder via text. I hadn’t heard from Tinder since I sent a thank you note after our date the night before. He had asked me what I was doing this night and said he would come over after our respective engagements, to f*ck me. Continue reading →
I didn’t see Tony on Friday night as we had originally planned. His work went later than expected (he had given me advance warning of this) and didn’t finish until well after midnight.
My son was with my parents, away for the weekend. I was to join them on Saturday.
I chose to use my alone time to tackle some crap in the house, and to just be…alone. It hasn’t happened much lately, and sometimes I just need my space. While I appreciated the time alone, I’m frustrated with my every-two-week dating pattern with Tony. We are supposed to have a “real” date this Friday. And he might do a late night visit tomorrow night. I really really hope so. Continue reading →
I didn’t talk to him at all on Saturday night (the day after our night together). I knew I needed to tell him it wasn’t going to work, but I just wasn’t up to it. I texted him a nice goodnight text and didn’t hear anything back.
The next morning I got the following text: “Babe you got me sick 🙁 totally have a very sore throat and been coughing all night”. I did feel bad, although I felt like I had duly warned him.
He called and we spoke ever so briefly – I was with my son and couldn’t stay on the phone. Later in the afternoon, I took a deep breath and gave him a call. We made small talk for a while and then I said what I needed to say:
I decided I was going to fuck the dog trainer. The dude was good with his hands and I figured the rest would follow. I wanted to see what the sex was like with him since I had some reservations about his Dominance and whether he would be able to respect me in the bedroom.
He was relatively fine with my not showing up at my front door as requested. I explained to him my butt plug has a recently-discovered-by-me design flaw which is the handy loop at the bottom is squishy and if I sit on it, it goes in too. (Yes, this means I had to fish a butt plug out of my ass. Thank god for the loop. I didn’t really want to do that again.)
I showed him the butt plug and he laughed and said – what the hell, it’s the same size as my finger. He was right.
I had a fun couple of hours with the Dog Trainer but when he left I felt a bit unsettled. Worse was realizing I was still not well at all, and even expending energy having orgasms took a lot out of me.
The next morning I woke up feeling terrible. Another day home from work, and I napped most of the morning. His first morning text message was:
“I’m so horny right now I just want to hold you down and fuck your two beautiful holes till I fill them with cum.”
Here’s the thing. Sometimes that’s super hot. Other times, if I’m sick and coughing and annoyed, it’s a bit different. No wonder men find women confusing. At least for me, it’s contextual…although I try to be consistent. Continue reading →
Wednesday night I met the Dog Trainer with the suspiciously small asset. Despite having walking pneumonia I thought I would be up to a short visit one night after my son went to sleep. Turns out I was a bit ambitious and it was actually more than I could handle. Live and learn (side note: I find myself saying that a lot lately).
Normally I wouldn’t meet a guy for the first time at my place, but given how much we had spoken and the various ways I triangulated his real identity, I wasn’t all that concerned.
He’s a BIG guy. Tall (6’2″) and bulky (250 lbs)… a bit of a stomach but gee, who am I to complain. He is just large. Literally, his hands are the largest I’ve ever seen on a man. If I can manage it I will take a pic comparing our hands just so you can see. The moment I saw his hands I thought “oh, maybe his cock isn’t that small after all”. Continue reading →