I need fresh meat

Lately, my evening masturbation fantasies have been devoid of specific male protagonists. Apart from the already frustrating fact that I am not getting any real-life action, I also have no current man to lust after. Since I don’t like to waste my thoughts on has-beens or unobtainables, pretty much everyone from the past months is out. My two regulars from my pre-surgery days are now in relationships, the one guy from my beard-lovers dating website I hadn’t yet met has moved to another country, Mr Brazil and I have a lack of chemistry (Chemistry 101), and Mr Mexico clearly isn’t up to the job (The end of the non-affair). As far as building up a network to satisfy my needs is concerned, I’m back to square one and on the prowl again. Very frustrating, when all your usual roads to sex are dead ends all of a sudden…

Oh, just relax

To be honest, I had absolutely NO idea what I wanted to come out of my telling a certain colleague of mine that I like him (Rien ne va plus). Since I’m in an open relationship, I am free to fuck other people, but liking someone is taking it to a whole other level. Had he reciprocated my feelings, I would have been faced with the difficult decision of whether to quit my current relationship and pursue something new, and I’m 99% sure that I would not have done that.

So why did I even tell him, you ask? Well, I’ve been wondering that myself. A main factor was definitely that I had been thinking about the what-ifs for far too long and that not knowing was weighing heavily upon my mind. In short, I just wanted to have clarity and lay this thing to rest, one way or another. I’m a pretty laid-back person when it comes to interpersonal entanglements. If I’m interested in someone, I just tell them – plain and simple. Life is too short to hold back, and I have never let fear of rejection keep me from being upfront. And believe me, I have been rejected many, many times over the years! But seriously, what’s the worst thing that could happen? If they don’t feel the same way, they will, most likely, still be flattered and politely decline. We’re way past that age where something like that will then be the talk of the town for months on end.

Granted, when it’s a friend or colleague who’s involved, it’s a little trickier. Still, I see no reason why two adults can’t quickly settle and leave this behind them. I mean, come on – people overcome the death of loved ones, grave illnesses, war, life tragedies, and they’re not supposed to be able to bounce back from something small like that? I’ve been on both sides of both the friend and the colleague situation before, and I can tell you that the key is to actually shelve it yourself. The minute you find out he is not interested, he has to be demoted from “wanted” and you have to treat him like a “plain old” friend or colleague. It will all go tits up if you start walking on eggshells around him, constantly watching what you say (and how you say it). If you act normal, he will gladly jump on your bandwagon – if he’s not already on it. After all, he’s the one being lusted after, which is always nice – no matter what the circumstances.

Rien ne va plus

I did it. I told a certain colleague of mine that I like him. Since it was via text message, I now have to play the waiting game…

I don’t know what prompted me to finally lay my cards on the table like that. Not only is he taken, I also very recently committed a huge faux pas with this man (Shut up!), pretty much ensuring that he is now properly scared off. If he ever liked me to begin with, that is. With him, all I can do is assume. He has given off a certain vibe (If only…) , but then again I might have been reading it all wrong. Still, now it’s done and dusted – no turning back!

It all happened in the spur of the moment after I had left work today. I used the oh-so-clever and not-at-all-obvious pretence of asking his advice on a matter, namely whether I should tell someone something that had been on my mind for a while, but which might forever change the relationship; and whether, if it were him, he’d want to know and have all the information. He said that he would want to know – and, if he were me, he would also tell this certain someone, as it would otherwise eat him up inside. Since I completely agreed with him on this, I took his advice.

It might not have been the ideal moment, but then there never would have been anyway. Obviously, there was no way in hell I could have (or would have) told him to his face. First of all, we have never ever been in a situation where it was just him and me, away from the office. Secondly, it is a lot to take in at once, and I did not want him to feel like he now had to come up with something to say right away. Unfortunately, this now leaves me in a state of trying to fight off the urge to run through all the possible scenarios in my head until he does answer. And the mind is a terrible opponent to have…

Shut up!

Even though I haven’t written much about it lately, I still like this certain colleague of mine (If only…). For obvious reasons (him being in a relationship, us working together and me not wanting to risk complicating a good working relationship) I have not (yet) told him how I feel. And I’m afraid that I might have just blown it altogether.

The other night a small group of us went for drinks after work, and we also talked about more personal things this time, including views on relationships and preferences when it comes to sex. I could tell that he was slightly uncomfortable with the subject matter, as I think that he is not that upfront about these things in general, let alone in front of people who are not close friends. However, the real problem is one that I have come across before: men sometimes freak out when I am open about what I like in bed and I completely scare them off (Kiss with a fist). While the rest of the guys were pretty much on the same page as me, he seemed put off. I am not even sure whether it’s because this is just not his cup of tea in general, or whether it was just too much information too soon.

Obviously, since I am not really sure whether I should tell him how I feel at all, I am engaging with him as if he were just a regular colleague and friend. But therein lies my problem. As a friend, I’d want him to know all about me and I would not have to worry about him getting the wrong impression; as someone I like and possible want to get to know better and date, I would not reveal as much this early on. Especially since it is not a must-have – just something I occasionally like to indulge in.

I’m afraid that this particular train has left the station and I’m not on it…

Put your money where your mouth is

What’s in a fantasy? When we imagine the craziest sex of our lives, do we intend to live it out, or are we just indulging in make-believe? If we had the chance to then actually put it into action, would we go through with it?

Most of what I dream about would make for pretty good porn clips: elements of BDSM, orgies, testing ones boundaries, exploring new sensations, experimenting with brute force. However, as always, I am bound by health and safety issues (Safe my ass). Technically, I would need an exclusive partner in crime to be able to safely indulge in all that I fantasize about. For me, that almost makes it impossible, as these are not the kinds of things I usually do in a relationship. Don’t get me wrong – the initial honeymoon period, in which you just have crazy sex all the time, is usually good; but it wears off after a while. What’s more, I tend to not want to hurt those that I love and care about, which is exactly what I want to do in bed. An eternal quandary, it seems.

So for me, it is not so much about not daring to live it out – it’s more an organisational problem. Completely unsexy and unbelievably frustrating, I know. Even more frustrating is having found someone who dreams about the same things and then not being able to make it happen courtesy of such irreconcilable differences.

The end of the non-affair

Despite a firm mutual resolution to cease and desist (Practice makes perfect), Mr. Mexico and I did not manage to keep our thoughts, comments, sexual innuendos and endless foreplay off each other. Hands we did keep off each other – but only barely.

In the days after our honourable attempt, we more and more slid back into our old ways, culminating in a joint masturbation and cum session via phone. Apparently, so he said, it was the timing and place – not the fact that he had not wanted to – which had led to the abrupt ending of our one-and-only physical interlude (No more). So the consensus was to schedule something as soon as possible and make up for it all.

The talk (and proposed details) became dirtier and dirtier, and I ultimately brought up the subject of safe sex again. Yes, I know it is a mood killer, but to me it is a must-have. I do all I can to stay safe and expect the same from my partners (Safe my ass). And even though we only intended to have sex with a condom, we very much intended to have oral sex, which just can’t be done with a condom – sorry, but no fun! Now, for those who don’t know or forgot, Mr. Mexico is married, which he immediately used as a sort of seal of approval, thinking it automatically rendered him safe for all eternity.

I hate when something like this happens – when people I like and lust after say something this stupid, it just leaves you at a loss what to say next. The following conversation – trying to explain to him that a) you can have/catch a disease even if nobody  cheats, b) he could not be 100% sure whether his wife was not up to something similar, c) even if flattering, to think that he had never before played around was very unlikely and d) we both had an obligation to our other partners to stay (and keep them) safe – was short and frustrating. He finally said that he would only get tested in an actual relationship in which they were planning on not using protection, and that the topic was off the table for him now.

For a moment, I even considered wrecking my brains over why he would say this in the first place (as it is quite an insult if taken at face value) and also why he would say this and not tell me the real reason (as it just doesn’t make any sense); but then I left it. It would have only resulted in me feeling even worse than I already felt at this moment, and it surely would have interfered with us being friends. So that’s that for Mr. Mexico, unfortunately. Refusing to get tested is a deal-breaker for me. I am too old to make such a rookie mistake.

If you died tomorrow…

… what would you do? Me, I would most certainly spend the bulk of the time with my loved ones – family, close friends, all those whom I want to tell that I love them one last time. But I would also fuck those on my fuck-it list (Fuck it), if at all possible.

I’ve lived in my fair share of cities, countries and continents over the years, and the one thing that always happens is that you never take in the local scenery and sight-seeing while you live there. Then, as soon as you’ve decided to move, you frantically try to make up for lost time in a week or two, completely missing the point and beauty of what has been lying in front of you for so long.

This is not a plea to spend your last day on earth fucking (although I highly recommend making it at least part of your day, if you can). This is more a heart-felt piece of advice: don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today. And, more importantly, you more often regret the things you didn’t do rather than the ones you did do.

 

 

Yes, but no thank you (but maybe)

I do get it: Having random (or not so random) people to flirt with does spice up otherwise slightly dull days or periods of time. And yes, it can also give your self-esteem or ego a boost when you need it. I, myself, am guilty of having a few designated people in my life with whom I can shamelessly flirt, risk-free, as there is no way that anything will ever happen (for lack of real chemistry, unavailability of one or both parties, geographical distance, etc.).

Keeping people on a low-flame or even back burner is a form of insurance for ourselves. Should we need (to use) them, they are there, with little additional or continuous effort required. While it is not the most noble of traits, it is absolutely fine, as long as both parties are on the same page and one is not getting hurt. I am employing this scheme with a few of my exes, where things already – inevitable – are a bit flirty. I also like to use it with people who live so far away that, because nothing substantial can/will ever happen due to the distance, you can actually indulge in a bit of make-believe, such as “missing” someone you don’t actually miss or don’t know well enough to be able to say that. This, I think, is also harmless – provided you don’t get dragged in emotionally and start believing it.

It’s different when you actually want something to happen with the person involved. Then hopes come into play, and hopes can be dashed. Such games should be reserved for superficial, playful interactions. This is why it’s important to put the cards on the table upfront. If neither party wants it to go anywhere, all is fair. If these are interested parties, it’s important to know whether something could happen. In this case it can be pretty enticing to drag it out. But beware of endless foreplay – it often leads to heightened expectations that might then not be met.

 

My tits are off the menu

Since the surgery I have tried to come to terms with different levels of pain, what I now physically can and can’t do, and how I look (The body issue – part two). I have never been a huge fan of neither my body nor my shape, but I appreciate that my body has been successfully getting me through life so far, and I am grateful for it. In that sense, it’s more like a vehicle to me – used, dented, leaking oil, but reliable and defiant.

This morning, however, I again realised (I had been denying it so far) that – as far as sex is concerned – I will, from now on and possibly forever, have to take my tits out of the equation. For one thing, I still have no feeling in some parts of that area, and the parts that are “awake” again are so sensitive that any touch results in massive amounts of pain. And not the good kind, I might add. The other issue is self-consciousness: they used to look much better, and I just hate how they look now. Upper body weight-loss, the strain of surgery and the massive scar have done their parts to make me feel unattractive and unsexy – at least in that area.

I will miss it, for sure. Thankfully, the film industry (in an effort to avoid R-ratings) has prepared everyone for what I will now have to do: keep my bra on during sex. As odd as I have always found that, watching it on TV.

Practice makes perfect

For many reasons – including my own emotional well-being, as the unfulfilled tension was nearly killing me – Mr. Mexico and I agreed to stop all explicit ongoings and just be co-workers and friends (No more). Easier said than done, though.

We have, in fact, stopped talking about anything to do with tension between us, us possibly having sex, etc. And I must admit that removing this factor has instantly made things a bit easier as far as concentrating on work is concerned. Another factor, however, is the fact that we just have strong chemistry and that I hence simply want to fuck him pretty much whenever I look at him. I am perfectly capable of just ignoring this urge to a certain extent, but I can’t stop it.

A new source of added annoyance is my apparent inability to immediately read and categorize his words, actions and looks now. While before I could just file every innuendo under the “teasing/flirting/wanting” label, I now have to stop and think whether it was even meant as an innuendo and then choose my responses wisely (or not so wisely, if I get it wrong). This can cause misunderstanding mishaps and make an otherwise easygoing situation unnecessarily complicated – definitely not something I strive for.

I think it is like any relationship that changes its status: all involved parties have to get used to the new status and the correlating rules – something that takes practice.