Um, hi? I just realized that I'd totally put up that post before. Sorry : /
So, I will start with something brand new - S and I are not together any more. To be honest, we got along a little bit too well, got too close, were too familiar with each other - it started to bum me out that he wasn't my boyfriend. So, I told him that unless our relationship was going to progress in to something more, I would have to say good bye. It was sad, so sad for both of us, because we had a (90%) good thing going. Ugh, I was super bummed for like three weeks...and then I decided to hop right back on the saddle...
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Hello Again
Hi Everyone!
Its been a long time - so much has happened in the year since I last posted!!! I am not sure where to start, so I am going to start from the very, very beginning - this is a post I wrote on the first version of this blog that I think many of you didn't see. Much more to come! xo
2011
The road to my sexual awakening was a varied one, starting with a lot of first (and sometimes only) dates. There was Jay, the silver haired adventure tour guide from Napa who called me the day after our first date to "ask me out" again - we met at a clandestine hotel in American Canyon and he encouraged me to sit on his face while he gave me the best head I've ever had in my life.
Then there was Connie. I call him this because, during our first date, when I asked him to tell me five weird or unusual things about himself (I started with my standard icebreaker list : I don't eat bananas, I never graduated from high school, I hate flip flops, etc), he saw fit to start with, "I spent time in prison". (Connie is my nickname for ex-con)
Now, to the average lady, this would been the perfect time to excuse herself to the bathroom and burn rubber out of there. To me, this tall, handsome, boyish yet rugged looking stranger went from a solid 9 to a full on Spinal Tap 11.
We talked for hours in that Berkeley restaurant, he told me about his stints in Corcoran and San Quentin, working on the forestry detail because of good behavior, the great things you can find sorting in the recycling center, the meth addiction and car theft that made him end up in jail. I was spellbound. As we walked around Berkeley after dinner, he asked if he could come home with me. Up until that point, I dialed *67 before every call (so these guys couldn't see my number), met up in hotels because I didn't want them to know where I lived, had phone buddies who I'd call or text at a specific time to let them know I was ok, etc. I was super protective. For some reason, I had the distinct feeling that Connie was a sweet, gentle soul. I said yes, but not before telling him that I would "fucking kill him if he tried any shit with me". He assured me that he wouldn't, and I made him give me a 15 minute head start as I raced home to *prepare* for the second part of my evening. He fucked me as if he'd just gotten out of jail that afternoon - wowee. He had a lot of energy. I could tell that we were doomed when, as we basked in the afterglow, making small talk and listening to music, he begged me to "Change this song. Please, put on anything else!" It was XTC's 1000 Umbrellas, one of my favorites. I knew we were not meant to be.
Cut to Jack, the confirmed bachelor who assured me there was zero possibility of any type of ongoing relationship, that he was only interested in the very occassional hook up. Perfect, right? I went to breakfast with him and his totally cute 4 year old son, went on many dog walks, had many phone conversations - this all took place before we ever had sex. When we finally did get around to doing it, he took off his clothes to reveal Homer Simpson boxer shorts. Again, it's the little things that can kill potential. I knew that I definitely had to end it when he tried to stash three bars of Irish Spring and a toothbrush in my bathroom - "you know, for next time".
When I was 31, I entered in to a long term relationship with a man who thought was The One - he was handsome, kind, smart (a math teacher), plus I felt like I'd hit the sexual lottery. By the fourth month of dating, we were in couples counseling. About a year later he proposed to me, teary eyed and on bended knee, at a winery in Napa Valley - I said yes, because I didn't know how to say no in that situation. My only comfort was that I knew the wedding would never actually happen. I didn't know, however, that when we had sex in our hotel room that night, it would be the last time for two + years...
A sexless relationship is a soul crusher. Add on top of that a partner that blames you, calls you needy and clingy, labels you as having an "anger problem", constantly points the finger of blame at you for everything that is wrong in the relationship and you can see how a girl would emerge a bit twisted.
It took a long time to get on my feet. As I look back on it, I compare my relationship with M to a slingshot - when I was with him, I was pulled way back in the sling. Once we broke up, once I was free - the sling was let go, and I've been on this forward trajectory, arcing and reaching heights, both personally and professionally, that I never could have achieved while with him. Although I that period of my life was one of the darkest, I am grateful for it - it gives me a very clear vision of what I do not want to ever experience again.
Last November, I responded to an ad on Craigslist of a guy (I'll call him George) who was looking for a fuck buddy - he described himself as tatooed, alternative, a working class full time dad who was looking for a no strings attached bang on a regular basis. As we first began to communicate, I found that we hit it off - we actually worked at the same school, but at different times (small world, huh?), had similar interests - it was a good start. We met first near the Sutro Baths (which, incidentally, was the first time I'd seen them despite having lived here for 21 years), then we met for dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant in Oakland. The day before we met up, he'd jokingly asked me in an email if he should bring a change of clothes with him for work the next day after our date. I said no - that he could come over and fuck me, but he couldn't spend the night because I wasn't a whore. It was at that moment I knew that the A that had been lost was now found. I got my mojo back.
George was the perfect segue for me - he was attentive and appreciative and made me feel sexy, he made me feel like having sex, he helped me remember how much I like sex and how seductive and sultry I can be. That I am not needy or clingy, but in fact independent and self assured. Confident, even. He and I were regular fuck buddies until January 24, 2011, when I went on that fateful first date with S. Having learned my lesson from the past, I recognized knew that George was not *exactly* what I wanted, he was more of a means to an end. My intuition told me to break it off with him, and see where things would go with S. As it so often is, my intuition was right.
Its been a long time - so much has happened in the year since I last posted!!! I am not sure where to start, so I am going to start from the very, very beginning - this is a post I wrote on the first version of this blog that I think many of you didn't see. Much more to come! xo
2011
The road to my sexual awakening was a varied one, starting with a lot of first (and sometimes only) dates. There was Jay, the silver haired adventure tour guide from Napa who called me the day after our first date to "ask me out" again - we met at a clandestine hotel in American Canyon and he encouraged me to sit on his face while he gave me the best head I've ever had in my life.
Then there was Connie. I call him this because, during our first date, when I asked him to tell me five weird or unusual things about himself (I started with my standard icebreaker list : I don't eat bananas, I never graduated from high school, I hate flip flops, etc), he saw fit to start with, "I spent time in prison". (Connie is my nickname for ex-con)
Now, to the average lady, this would been the perfect time to excuse herself to the bathroom and burn rubber out of there. To me, this tall, handsome, boyish yet rugged looking stranger went from a solid 9 to a full on Spinal Tap 11.
We talked for hours in that Berkeley restaurant, he told me about his stints in Corcoran and San Quentin, working on the forestry detail because of good behavior, the great things you can find sorting in the recycling center, the meth addiction and car theft that made him end up in jail. I was spellbound. As we walked around Berkeley after dinner, he asked if he could come home with me. Up until that point, I dialed *67 before every call (so these guys couldn't see my number), met up in hotels because I didn't want them to know where I lived, had phone buddies who I'd call or text at a specific time to let them know I was ok, etc. I was super protective. For some reason, I had the distinct feeling that Connie was a sweet, gentle soul. I said yes, but not before telling him that I would "fucking kill him if he tried any shit with me". He assured me that he wouldn't, and I made him give me a 15 minute head start as I raced home to *prepare* for the second part of my evening. He fucked me as if he'd just gotten out of jail that afternoon - wowee. He had a lot of energy. I could tell that we were doomed when, as we basked in the afterglow, making small talk and listening to music, he begged me to "Change this song. Please, put on anything else!" It was XTC's 1000 Umbrellas, one of my favorites. I knew we were not meant to be.
Cut to Jack, the confirmed bachelor who assured me there was zero possibility of any type of ongoing relationship, that he was only interested in the very occassional hook up. Perfect, right? I went to breakfast with him and his totally cute 4 year old son, went on many dog walks, had many phone conversations - this all took place before we ever had sex. When we finally did get around to doing it, he took off his clothes to reveal Homer Simpson boxer shorts. Again, it's the little things that can kill potential. I knew that I definitely had to end it when he tried to stash three bars of Irish Spring and a toothbrush in my bathroom - "you know, for next time".
When I was 31, I entered in to a long term relationship with a man who thought was The One - he was handsome, kind, smart (a math teacher), plus I felt like I'd hit the sexual lottery. By the fourth month of dating, we were in couples counseling. About a year later he proposed to me, teary eyed and on bended knee, at a winery in Napa Valley - I said yes, because I didn't know how to say no in that situation. My only comfort was that I knew the wedding would never actually happen. I didn't know, however, that when we had sex in our hotel room that night, it would be the last time for two + years...
A sexless relationship is a soul crusher. Add on top of that a partner that blames you, calls you needy and clingy, labels you as having an "anger problem", constantly points the finger of blame at you for everything that is wrong in the relationship and you can see how a girl would emerge a bit twisted.
It took a long time to get on my feet. As I look back on it, I compare my relationship with M to a slingshot - when I was with him, I was pulled way back in the sling. Once we broke up, once I was free - the sling was let go, and I've been on this forward trajectory, arcing and reaching heights, both personally and professionally, that I never could have achieved while with him. Although I that period of my life was one of the darkest, I am grateful for it - it gives me a very clear vision of what I do not want to ever experience again.
Last November, I responded to an ad on Craigslist of a guy (I'll call him George) who was looking for a fuck buddy - he described himself as tatooed, alternative, a working class full time dad who was looking for a no strings attached bang on a regular basis. As we first began to communicate, I found that we hit it off - we actually worked at the same school, but at different times (small world, huh?), had similar interests - it was a good start. We met first near the Sutro Baths (which, incidentally, was the first time I'd seen them despite having lived here for 21 years), then we met for dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant in Oakland. The day before we met up, he'd jokingly asked me in an email if he should bring a change of clothes with him for work the next day after our date. I said no - that he could come over and fuck me, but he couldn't spend the night because I wasn't a whore. It was at that moment I knew that the A that had been lost was now found. I got my mojo back.
George was the perfect segue for me - he was attentive and appreciative and made me feel sexy, he made me feel like having sex, he helped me remember how much I like sex and how seductive and sultry I can be. That I am not needy or clingy, but in fact independent and self assured. Confident, even. He and I were regular fuck buddies until January 24, 2011, when I went on that fateful first date with S. Having learned my lesson from the past, I recognized knew that George was not *exactly* what I wanted, he was more of a means to an end. My intuition told me to break it off with him, and see where things would go with S. As it so often is, my intuition was right.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Taking It All Off
When I returned from my two week trip to England last year, I wanted to do something special for my Thursday date with S. I'd bought some really fantastic lingerie in London, which I knew would be a hit, but I wanted to do something unexpected, something that would totally take S by surprise. So, I decided to get a Brazilian.
OK, I know Brazilians are old news - so old, in fact, that my friend John recently told me that bush is back in vogue. Sigh. I can't keep up with all the trends. I passed on the Brazilian bandwagon all these years because I like a little hair down there, and my past partners have never complained about my Kid n' Play. But, I knew early on that S liked it hairless - he asked me, on our 5th or 6th date, if he could shave me. I thought it was such an exciting request - oddly intimate to let someone I barely knew get all up in my business, yes, but sexy all the same. It was less a criticism of my grooming habits than an exciting new form of foreplay - S made that clear. It did turn out to be fantastic - I had to let go of my fears and insecurities and really appreciate how much I was being appreciated. He did an excellent, thorough job, and commented on how smooth it was as he fucked me afterwards.
I returned from England on a Tuesday, and my date was two days later, so I didn't have a lot of time to find an aesthetician. I wanted someone good, but of course, the good ones are booked up weeks in advance. I searched Yelp and totally lucked out with Simply Gorgeous Day Spa in Oakland. They have a four star rating, and they also have an online appointment scheduling system - so I was able to choose my aesthetician, treatment, and appointment time all online. That was especially helpful since I decided to get waxed at about 7a.m. - I was able to book an appointment at 10am later that same day.
My aesthetician, Christina, was great - she was gentle, fast, and thorough. For those of you who have not yet experienced the magic that is a completely hairless vagina - do it! At least once. It is truly a fantastic feeling, and they even wax your butt if you'd like. I never realized how hairy my butt was until it was completely bare. It is an amazing feeling. And, it had the effect I wanted - S was totally blown away by my surprise.
OK, I know Brazilians are old news - so old, in fact, that my friend John recently told me that bush is back in vogue. Sigh. I can't keep up with all the trends. I passed on the Brazilian bandwagon all these years because I like a little hair down there, and my past partners have never complained about my Kid n' Play. But, I knew early on that S liked it hairless - he asked me, on our 5th or 6th date, if he could shave me. I thought it was such an exciting request - oddly intimate to let someone I barely knew get all up in my business, yes, but sexy all the same. It was less a criticism of my grooming habits than an exciting new form of foreplay - S made that clear. It did turn out to be fantastic - I had to let go of my fears and insecurities and really appreciate how much I was being appreciated. He did an excellent, thorough job, and commented on how smooth it was as he fucked me afterwards.
I returned from England on a Tuesday, and my date was two days later, so I didn't have a lot of time to find an aesthetician. I wanted someone good, but of course, the good ones are booked up weeks in advance. I searched Yelp and totally lucked out with Simply Gorgeous Day Spa in Oakland. They have a four star rating, and they also have an online appointment scheduling system - so I was able to choose my aesthetician, treatment, and appointment time all online. That was especially helpful since I decided to get waxed at about 7a.m. - I was able to book an appointment at 10am later that same day.
My aesthetician, Christina, was great - she was gentle, fast, and thorough. For those of you who have not yet experienced the magic that is a completely hairless vagina - do it! At least once. It is truly a fantastic feeling, and they even wax your butt if you'd like. I never realized how hairy my butt was until it was completely bare. It is an amazing feeling. And, it had the effect I wanted - S was totally blown away by my surprise.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
One More For Valentine's Day
Valentine's Day is usually quite sickening to me, but now that I am in to lingerie, it is my Christmas! Such an incredible variety of super cute pieces for sale now!! (and on sale tomorrow ; )
I bought this at Lane Bryant the other day:
How hot are these crotchless panties?
I bought this at Lane Bryant the other day:
How hot are these crotchless panties?
My friend told me about this
I also LOVE this one
Great coverage, fantastic old-style garter clips, and super duper comfortable. Love.
Coming Out Of The Closet
S and I are swingers.
It started as pillow talk. We'd just finished another incredible fucking session and S started fantasizing about scenarios. "I'd love to fuck you while you licked another woman's pussy". Being the good sport that I am, I jumped right in. "You know, its funny you should mention that. I saw a woman in a store the other day who was a peach. I'd love to go down on her"...
That conversation led to S saying he had a "surprise" for me one night. I am usually not a big fan of surprises, I like to plan and have backup for the first plan and then have arrangements in case plans one and two fall through. But, I trust S, and I found it exciting that we were doing something fun and clandestine. I didn't ask questions, and simply played along, the whole time wondering where we could be going, who we were going to see? Why he asked me to specifically wear that low cut black dress that shows off my boobs so prominently? We drove to a hotel in Vallejo, and when we didn't check in at the front desk I was a bit confused. As we walked up to a nondescript door on the the second floor, I started to freak out. "What's the surprise? Where are you taking me?!!!" S said, "Behind that door there are 10 couples fucking. Its a swing party."
Its funny how things happen so quickly. I went from super scared to calmly curious in about .5 seconds. I knew that S would never put me, or himself, in a dangerous situation, and I had an idea that he'd been a part of the swing scene in past years, so he knew what he was getting us in to. I put on my brave sexy girl face and we went inside...
The hostess greeted us warmly, took our coats, and her husband took S aside to take his payment. I've come to learn that there are different gradations of swing functions - this was couples only, and cost $75 to participate. There are other swing parties where single men are allowed, and the cost of those varies - it is free for single women to attend (because so few ever do), up to $75 for couples and up to $100 or more for single guys to come. No pun intended. We also went to one of these functions and it was a disaster, but I'll talk about that in another post...
We get the tour of the place because we were newbies. The swing suite consisted of three rooms - the main room, where they had non alcoholic drinks and refreshments (cupcakes, finger sandwiches, macaroni salad - quite a spread), and there were people in various states of undress on the couches, chatting and laughing while country music videos played on the big screen tv. The room to the right was where all the action was happening - about 8 people inside, all getting down, not even noticing we'd walked in to the room. There were condoms and lube on the nightstand, toothbrushes and toothpaste in the bathrooms.
The room on the left just had one couple in it, but was also fully stocked with all the accoutrements of the other room. The hostess told us to have fun and left us to explore. S led me back to the room where all the action was happening, so we could watch and scope out the scene. He stood behind me and ran his hand up the back of my dress, pulling my panties down while I fumbled with his zipper to better give him a handjob. It was hot. He asked if I saw anyone I liked, and I said no, but after a while an older guy caught my eye. I was too shy to act. A few guys approached me, all of which I said no to - the cardinal rule of the swing set is no means no. Men (and women) are always supposed to ask before touching or joining a scene, and even maybe means no. Only yes means yes. S and I eventually came up with code names for a few of my potential suitors: Geico was the guy with the goatee and the British accent; Mullet (for obvious reasons), and Friendly, who was the older guy who'd originally caught my eye. He'd started chatting with S, and it turned out he was one of the organizers of this party, which had been going on for quite a few years.
S and I had a great time that night - it was super sexy, and really strengthened our relationship in some ways. I also learned that I am not the irrationally jealous person that I always thought I was - with S, there really is no reason to be. Even though there were many sexy people in that room, showing interest in both of us, we still found each other to be the hottest of them all.
It started as pillow talk. We'd just finished another incredible fucking session and S started fantasizing about scenarios. "I'd love to fuck you while you licked another woman's pussy". Being the good sport that I am, I jumped right in. "You know, its funny you should mention that. I saw a woman in a store the other day who was a peach. I'd love to go down on her"...
That conversation led to S saying he had a "surprise" for me one night. I am usually not a big fan of surprises, I like to plan and have backup for the first plan and then have arrangements in case plans one and two fall through. But, I trust S, and I found it exciting that we were doing something fun and clandestine. I didn't ask questions, and simply played along, the whole time wondering where we could be going, who we were going to see? Why he asked me to specifically wear that low cut black dress that shows off my boobs so prominently? We drove to a hotel in Vallejo, and when we didn't check in at the front desk I was a bit confused. As we walked up to a nondescript door on the the second floor, I started to freak out. "What's the surprise? Where are you taking me?!!!" S said, "Behind that door there are 10 couples fucking. Its a swing party."
Its funny how things happen so quickly. I went from super scared to calmly curious in about .5 seconds. I knew that S would never put me, or himself, in a dangerous situation, and I had an idea that he'd been a part of the swing scene in past years, so he knew what he was getting us in to. I put on my brave sexy girl face and we went inside...
The hostess greeted us warmly, took our coats, and her husband took S aside to take his payment. I've come to learn that there are different gradations of swing functions - this was couples only, and cost $75 to participate. There are other swing parties where single men are allowed, and the cost of those varies - it is free for single women to attend (because so few ever do), up to $75 for couples and up to $100 or more for single guys to come. No pun intended. We also went to one of these functions and it was a disaster, but I'll talk about that in another post...
We get the tour of the place because we were newbies. The swing suite consisted of three rooms - the main room, where they had non alcoholic drinks and refreshments (cupcakes, finger sandwiches, macaroni salad - quite a spread), and there were people in various states of undress on the couches, chatting and laughing while country music videos played on the big screen tv. The room to the right was where all the action was happening - about 8 people inside, all getting down, not even noticing we'd walked in to the room. There were condoms and lube on the nightstand, toothbrushes and toothpaste in the bathrooms.
The room on the left just had one couple in it, but was also fully stocked with all the accoutrements of the other room. The hostess told us to have fun and left us to explore. S led me back to the room where all the action was happening, so we could watch and scope out the scene. He stood behind me and ran his hand up the back of my dress, pulling my panties down while I fumbled with his zipper to better give him a handjob. It was hot. He asked if I saw anyone I liked, and I said no, but after a while an older guy caught my eye. I was too shy to act. A few guys approached me, all of which I said no to - the cardinal rule of the swing set is no means no. Men (and women) are always supposed to ask before touching or joining a scene, and even maybe means no. Only yes means yes. S and I eventually came up with code names for a few of my potential suitors: Geico was the guy with the goatee and the British accent; Mullet (for obvious reasons), and Friendly, who was the older guy who'd originally caught my eye. He'd started chatting with S, and it turned out he was one of the organizers of this party, which had been going on for quite a few years.
S and I had a great time that night - it was super sexy, and really strengthened our relationship in some ways. I also learned that I am not the irrationally jealous person that I always thought I was - with S, there really is no reason to be. Even though there were many sexy people in that room, showing interest in both of us, we still found each other to be the hottest of them all.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
50 First Dates
The road to my sexual awakening was a varied one, starting with a lot of first (and sometimes only) dates. There was Jay, the silver haired adventure tour guide from Napa who called me the day after our first date to "ask me out" again - we met at a clandestine hotel in American Canyon and he encouraged me to sit on his face while he gave me the best head I've ever had in my life.
Then there was Connie. During our first date, I asked him to tell me five weird or unusual things about himself. I started with my standard icebreaker list : I don't eat bananas, I never graduated from high school, I hate flip flops, etc. He saw fit to start with, "I spent time in prison". Connie is my nickname for ex-convict.
Now, to the average lady, this would have been the perfect time to excuse herself to the bathroom and burn rubber out of there. To me, this tall, handsome, boyish yet rugged looking stranger went from a solid 9 to a full on Spinal Tap 11.
We talked for hours in that Berkeley restaurant, he told me about his stints in Corcoran and San Quentin, working on the forestry detail because of good behavior, the great things you can find sorting in the recycling center, the meth addiction and car theft that made him end up in jail. I was spellbound. As we walked around Berkeley after dinner, he asked if he could come home with me. Up until that point, I dialed *67 before every call (so these guys couldn't see my number), met up in hotels because I didn't want them to know where I lived, had phone buddies who I'd call or text at a specific time to let them know I was ok, etc. I was super protective. For some reason, my intuition told me that Connie was a sweet, gentle soul, that he would be ok. I said yes, but not before telling him that I would "fucking kill him if he tried any shit with me". He assured me that he wouldn't, and I made him give me a 15 minute head start as I raced home to *prepare* for the second part of my evening. He fucked me as if he'd just gotten out of jail that afternoon - wowee. He had a lot of energy. I could tell that we were doomed when, as we basked in the afterglow, making small talk and listening to music, he begged me to "Change this song. Please, put on anything else!" It was XTC's 1000 Umbrellas, one of my favorites. I knew we were not meant to be.
Cut to Jack, the confirmed bachelor who assured me there was zero possibility of any type of ongoing relationship, that he was only interested in the very occassional hook up. Perfect, right? I went to breakfast with him and his totally cute 4 year old son, went on many dog walks, had many phone conversations - this all took place before we ever had sex. When we finally did get around to doing it, he took off his clothes to reveal Homer Simpson boxer shorts. Again, it's the little things that can kill potential. I knew that I definitely had to end it when he tried to stash three bars of Irish Spring and a toothbrush in my bathroom - "you know, for next time".
When I was 31, I entered in to a long term relationship with a man who I thought was The One - he was handsome, kind, smart (a math teacher), plus I felt like I'd hit the sexual lottery. By the fourth month of dating, we were in couples counseling. About a year later he proposed to me, teary eyed and on bended knee, at a winery in Napa Valley - I said yes, because I didn't know how to say no in that situation. My only comfort was that I knew the wedding would never actually happen. I didn't know, however, that when we had sex in our hotel room that night, it would be the last time for two + years...
A sexless relationship is a soul crusher. Add on top of that a partner that blames you, calls you needy and clingy, labels you as having an "anger problem", constantly points the finger at you for everything that is wrong in the relationship and you can see how a girl would emerge a bit twisted.
It took a long time to get on my feet. As I look back on it, I compare my relationship with M to a slingshot - when I was with him, I was pulled way back in the sling. Once we broke up, once I was free - the sling was let go, and I've been on this forward trajectory, arcing and reaching heights, both personally and professionally, that I never could have achieved while with him. Although I label that period of my life as one of the darkest, I am grateful for it - it gives me a very clear vision of what I do not want to ever experience again.
Last November, I responded to an ad on Craigslist of a guy (I'll call him George) who was looking for a fuck buddy - he described himself as tatooed, alternative, a working class full time dad who was looking for a no strings attached bang on a regular basis. As we first began to communicate, I found that we hit it off - we actually worked at the same school, but at different times (small world, huh?), had similar interests - it was a good start. We met first near the Sutro Baths (which, incidentally, was the first time I'd seen them despite having lived here for 21 years), then we met for dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant in Oakland. The day before we met up, he'd jokingly asked me in an email if he should bring a change of clothes with him for work the next day. I said no - that he could come over and fuck me, but he couldn't spend the night because I wasn't a whore. It was at that moment I knew that the A that had been lost was now found. I got my mojo back.
George was the perfect segue for me - he was attentive and appreciative and made me feel sexy, he made me feel like having sex, he helped me remember how much I like sex and how seductive and sultry I can be. That I am not needy or clingy, but, in fact, independent and self assured. Confident, even. He and I were regular fuck buddies until January 24, 2011, when I went on that fateful first date with S. Having learned my lesson from the past, I recognized that George was not *exactly* what I wanted, he was more of a means to an end. My intuition told me to break it off with him, and see where things would go with S. As it so often is, my intuition was right.
Next: Coming Out Of The Closet
Then there was Connie. During our first date, I asked him to tell me five weird or unusual things about himself. I started with my standard icebreaker list : I don't eat bananas, I never graduated from high school, I hate flip flops, etc. He saw fit to start with, "I spent time in prison". Connie is my nickname for ex-convict.
Now, to the average lady, this would have been the perfect time to excuse herself to the bathroom and burn rubber out of there. To me, this tall, handsome, boyish yet rugged looking stranger went from a solid 9 to a full on Spinal Tap 11.
We talked for hours in that Berkeley restaurant, he told me about his stints in Corcoran and San Quentin, working on the forestry detail because of good behavior, the great things you can find sorting in the recycling center, the meth addiction and car theft that made him end up in jail. I was spellbound. As we walked around Berkeley after dinner, he asked if he could come home with me. Up until that point, I dialed *67 before every call (so these guys couldn't see my number), met up in hotels because I didn't want them to know where I lived, had phone buddies who I'd call or text at a specific time to let them know I was ok, etc. I was super protective. For some reason, my intuition told me that Connie was a sweet, gentle soul, that he would be ok. I said yes, but not before telling him that I would "fucking kill him if he tried any shit with me". He assured me that he wouldn't, and I made him give me a 15 minute head start as I raced home to *prepare* for the second part of my evening. He fucked me as if he'd just gotten out of jail that afternoon - wowee. He had a lot of energy. I could tell that we were doomed when, as we basked in the afterglow, making small talk and listening to music, he begged me to "Change this song. Please, put on anything else!" It was XTC's 1000 Umbrellas, one of my favorites. I knew we were not meant to be.
Cut to Jack, the confirmed bachelor who assured me there was zero possibility of any type of ongoing relationship, that he was only interested in the very occassional hook up. Perfect, right? I went to breakfast with him and his totally cute 4 year old son, went on many dog walks, had many phone conversations - this all took place before we ever had sex. When we finally did get around to doing it, he took off his clothes to reveal Homer Simpson boxer shorts. Again, it's the little things that can kill potential. I knew that I definitely had to end it when he tried to stash three bars of Irish Spring and a toothbrush in my bathroom - "you know, for next time".
When I was 31, I entered in to a long term relationship with a man who I thought was The One - he was handsome, kind, smart (a math teacher), plus I felt like I'd hit the sexual lottery. By the fourth month of dating, we were in couples counseling. About a year later he proposed to me, teary eyed and on bended knee, at a winery in Napa Valley - I said yes, because I didn't know how to say no in that situation. My only comfort was that I knew the wedding would never actually happen. I didn't know, however, that when we had sex in our hotel room that night, it would be the last time for two + years...
A sexless relationship is a soul crusher. Add on top of that a partner that blames you, calls you needy and clingy, labels you as having an "anger problem", constantly points the finger at you for everything that is wrong in the relationship and you can see how a girl would emerge a bit twisted.
It took a long time to get on my feet. As I look back on it, I compare my relationship with M to a slingshot - when I was with him, I was pulled way back in the sling. Once we broke up, once I was free - the sling was let go, and I've been on this forward trajectory, arcing and reaching heights, both personally and professionally, that I never could have achieved while with him. Although I label that period of my life as one of the darkest, I am grateful for it - it gives me a very clear vision of what I do not want to ever experience again.
Last November, I responded to an ad on Craigslist of a guy (I'll call him George) who was looking for a fuck buddy - he described himself as tatooed, alternative, a working class full time dad who was looking for a no strings attached bang on a regular basis. As we first began to communicate, I found that we hit it off - we actually worked at the same school, but at different times (small world, huh?), had similar interests - it was a good start. We met first near the Sutro Baths (which, incidentally, was the first time I'd seen them despite having lived here for 21 years), then we met for dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant in Oakland. The day before we met up, he'd jokingly asked me in an email if he should bring a change of clothes with him for work the next day. I said no - that he could come over and fuck me, but he couldn't spend the night because I wasn't a whore. It was at that moment I knew that the A that had been lost was now found. I got my mojo back.
George was the perfect segue for me - he was attentive and appreciative and made me feel sexy, he made me feel like having sex, he helped me remember how much I like sex and how seductive and sultry I can be. That I am not needy or clingy, but, in fact, independent and self assured. Confident, even. He and I were regular fuck buddies until January 24, 2011, when I went on that fateful first date with S. Having learned my lesson from the past, I recognized that George was not *exactly* what I wanted, he was more of a means to an end. My intuition told me to break it off with him, and see where things would go with S. As it so often is, my intuition was right.
Next: Coming Out Of The Closet
Sunday, November 13, 2011
It's A Cinch
I have a complicated relationship with my body. Some days I know I have it going on - I love my cleavage, I put on my lowest cut, most fitted dress, I accentuate my hourglass figure and strut around with my head held high. Other days, I wear my loosest gym clothes and beat myself up for not sticking with the (fill in the blank) diet I started last year/last month/yesterday.
I still like to feel sexy, and I really, really like to dress up for S (and myself). I love wearing thigh highs, but I only had two pathetic, boring little black lace garter belts to hold them up with. Not only were they boring, but they didn't give me the *coverage* I needed in order to let myself go and feel really sexy. No matter how great I feel about myself, I really hate my lower stomach, and I will go to great lengths to camouflage it.
I decided to visit a local lingerie shop called Foxy Lady to find a new garter. I knew about it from years back - my friends who were strippers would get their costumes there, and I knew it was a trans-friendly store, so they would likely stock *non traditional* sizes. The ladies there were really helpful, but I like to browse on my own. I looked and looked and then I found the item that would change my life forever - The Rago Waist Cincher!
It has a totally retro-50s feel, and is insanely sexy while giving me the coverage I need. I loved the black one so much that I also ordered it in black and pink:
I wore the black one for S and as he fucked me from behind one night he said, "Your waist is so tiny...and your ass is so big! This is wonderful". Ahhh, memories. That was a really great night. And a great boost for my body image-esteem. I'd never heard "your ass is so big" used in such a positive context before.
It occurred to me that evening that if I could achieve such accentuating with a relatively flexible garment, imagine the curves I'd get with a proper corset? I searched online, and although there are lots of options out there, I had a few requirements: I wanted it fast, so I needed a ready-to-wear piece; I wanted it to really pull my waist in, so I didn't want a flimsy one and lastly; I needed it to be under $100. Seems impossible, right? Its totally not - introducing Orchard Corset! They sell fantastic, authentic, well made corsets for a song. My first was this emerald green number:
I still like to feel sexy, and I really, really like to dress up for S (and myself). I love wearing thigh highs, but I only had two pathetic, boring little black lace garter belts to hold them up with. Not only were they boring, but they didn't give me the *coverage* I needed in order to let myself go and feel really sexy. No matter how great I feel about myself, I really hate my lower stomach, and I will go to great lengths to camouflage it.
I decided to visit a local lingerie shop called Foxy Lady to find a new garter. I knew about it from years back - my friends who were strippers would get their costumes there, and I knew it was a trans-friendly store, so they would likely stock *non traditional* sizes. The ladies there were really helpful, but I like to browse on my own. I looked and looked and then I found the item that would change my life forever - The Rago Waist Cincher!
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| OMG - this entire look is hot! Available at Hips and Curves. |
It has a totally retro-50s feel, and is insanely sexy while giving me the coverage I need. I loved the black one so much that I also ordered it in black and pink:
I wore the black one for S and as he fucked me from behind one night he said, "Your waist is so tiny...and your ass is so big! This is wonderful". Ahhh, memories. That was a really great night. And a great boost for my body image-esteem. I'd never heard "your ass is so big" used in such a positive context before.
It occurred to me that evening that if I could achieve such accentuating with a relatively flexible garment, imagine the curves I'd get with a proper corset? I searched online, and although there are lots of options out there, I had a few requirements: I wanted it fast, so I needed a ready-to-wear piece; I wanted it to really pull my waist in, so I didn't want a flimsy one and lastly; I needed it to be under $100. Seems impossible, right? Its totally not - introducing Orchard Corset! They sell fantastic, authentic, well made corsets for a song. My first was this emerald green number:
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| $79 at Orchard Corset |
The fun part about ordering corsets (for me) is that you order the size you want to be, not the size you actually are. The idea is to cinch in really tight, so you measure the narrowest part of your waist in inches, and that's what you order. So, I take an 18/20 in a dress, but I am a 36 in corset size.
I never thought I'd be able to wear a corset, but I proved myself wrong. I love the exaggerated curves I can achieve with a corset, and although it takes some getting used to (until its broken in, it kinda feels like you're walking around in a body cast), the effects are well worth the effort. The nice thing about this corset in particular is that you can order metal garters to go with it, and its a 'longline' style. Which means extra stomach coverage ; ) I thought S was going to lose it when I unveiled this ensemble. This is one of the outfits he talked about for days afterwards. I recommend it!!
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