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…

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.

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.

No more

Mr. Mexico has been occupying a lot of my time in the past weeks (“Almost” doesn’t count), and we’ve slowly moved from being flirty to being very flirty to sending each other porn clips and discussing how we’d like to do it. All this talk and no action has not only left me wanting him even more, it has also become a major distraction and annoyance.

I have had this sort of thing before, with a guy who has been the subject of many of my blog entries: Mr. Unobtainable. We would pretty much have full-blown sex via messenger or other devices, but we’d never do it, because – obviously – he was taken. Bullshit, I say – as constantly talking to another woman about how you’d like to do her and indulging in text sex already qualifies as cheating to me. Men, however, have different views and rules when it comes to this, and they are also cowards. If they are torn about cheating, they themselves won’t start anything. You, as the “other” woman, have to take that first step, and then you are forever the bad one who tempted the poor guy and threw yourself at him.

The other night, after a brief drinking session with a few colleagues (during which we – again – were incredibly flirty), Mr. Mexico drove me home, and the drive was pretty much spent with both of us admitting that this was torture and that we’d very much like to fuck each other. Contrary to popular belief, it was him who started things by putting his hand on my leg, between my legs; and my hand on his cock. When we arrived at my house and he had parked the car, we just stared at each other, ready to pounce, for about ten minutes, and he kept sighing and saying “don’t look at me like that”. So yes, I’ll admit, I finally leant over and kissed him and then blew him for a bit. If that makes me a bad person, so be it. I just could not take it any longer, and I was sick of the hypocritical view that he had not already cheated, just because our lips had never touched.

It was a short pleasure, and I ended it quickly, since we were out in the street and there were people close by. Since he said no to coming back upstairs with me, I got out of the car, went home and finished the job on my own – as so many times before. Incredibly anti-climax and frustrating. But no more – we can’t go on like this, it’s just too damn distracting and unsatisfying. So I will just leave all the flirting and suggestive comments, and I will most certainly leave all the porn talk; instead we will just be work colleagues and friends. I’m pretty sad about this, as we have unbelievable chemistry and sexual tension, and we would definitely get on like a house on fire in bed. However, there is no point when he is that torn and obviously does not want or dare to take that final step. I will be here if he ever changes his mind, but I can’t do this any longer.

“Almost” doesn’t count

Judging by the sheer amount of time I spend thinking about him and the whole scenario, the lusted-after work colleague (It’s a 50/50 chance) deserves to move into the “current men” category. Since we haven’t actually done it (yet), though, this will have to wait.To make up for it, he will get his Mister-moniker and henceforth be known as Mr. Mexico (as he’s as close, looks-wise, as I’ll ever get to my preferred type, crudely and politically incorrectly summed up as chunky Latinos fresh out of jail).

Yesterday would have been a perfect opportunity to finally field test it, but I opted out at the last moment. Not because I didn’t want to – God knows that the combination of badly wanting it in general and having someone who is actually my type usually leads to instant, at-a-touch orgasm. As an added bonus (or should I say cruelty factor?) I found out that he is pretty much on the same page as me as far as sexual antics are concerned (Kiss with a fist). Yes, we have been discussing all these things via messenger at work, so we’ve pretty much already done it anyway.

So why not take that final step? I don’t know. We were out with a few people last night, and it should have really ended up with him back at mine, in my bed, in me. I left the party earlier than him and told him to come over later, if he wanted to. But when he then called me, I took a rain check. It’s true, it was late (3am) and I was unbelievably tired; but that wasn’t the whole story. I also haven’t been able to find out what his arrangement at home is. He seems to me like a guy who wants an escape, but might regret it afterwards, in which case I’d be the royally fucked one (Here we go again). And I definitely don’t want the hassle of being “the other woman”. I don’t mind if people are taken, if it’s an open arrangement or if they don’t care about cheating and won’t feel remorse. But they need to be damn sure, and he doesn’t seem to be.

Damn!

I kinda like someone. I really didn’t see this one coming, as I am neither in the position nor in the mood to like someone. But then things rarely go as plan or expected.

It’s someone I see at work almost every day, and, at first glance, he really wasn’t my type. However, now that I’ve gotten to know him a bit, I can’t help but like him. Obviously, he’s taken (as all men I’m interested in seem to be); but even if he weren’t, I wouldn’t say or do anything about it. It’s difficult enough when it comes to lusting after and fucking people.

When you lust after someone (like I do with another colleague of mine – yes, I’m a busy girl when it comes to pleasures of the mind), your thoughts are carnal and dirty. You imagine him getting hard and you getting wet. You imagine the first time you suck his cock and what it would taste like. You imagine the moment when his cock first enters your pussy.  Every once in a while, when thoughts are just too damn distracting, you may even retreat to the bathroom at work to provide some fast and much-needed instant relief. When worse comes to worse, you can always find someone else to fuck and indulge in make-believe.

Liking someone, however, is a totally different ball game. When you like someone, then you get a weak feeling in your tummy when that person smiles at you. Then all you can think about is that moment when he comes closer and finally kisses you for the very first time. Sadly, there is no fast and instant relief for that predicament. As so very often, I am figuratively fucked, rather than literally.

It’s a 50/50 chance

I have REALLY been trying NOT to think about a certain colleague at work, who really keeps my mind busy and my pulse racing (Here we go again). However, he is not making things easy for me, and I am pretty sure it’s on purpose.

He takes every chance he can get to throw in a double entendre and is always super-flirty with me. Which I love – I won’t deny it. And I do reciprocate it – I also won’t deny. I have been trying to divert attention away from my real feelings by asking him to fix me up with single friends of his, who – more or less – look like him. And I don’t think he is THAT thick. Still, if there ever was a case of me needing to test the waters with him and be totally blunt, there isn’t anymore after tonight.

Tonight, as he was driving me home from a quick drinking session at a colleague’s house, I may have put myself all out there and confessed. Namely, that, basically, every time I see him I have trouble not to jump him right then and there – even if it is at the office. Not only does he have the looks I go for, he also has this unbelievably filthy laugh, which just makes my hair stand on end with excitement. I just love it to bits…

What he now does with this information is up to him. I have no idea what kind of deal he has cut with his wife. Whether it’s an open relationship or some other arrangement. As always, I will keep you posted. But let me just spare you some possible disappointment on my behalf: men are usually a lot of talk and no action or substance. So I’m not expecting anything – as always.

I’m a hypocrite

I love giving head. It is virtually impossible for me to be next to a good-looking cock and not eventually suck it. While that is not a problem in itself, the implications that go along with it sure as hell can be. I’m usually pretty smart and safe when it comes to sex (“Safe my ass”), but every once in a while I, too, have a weak moment. They’re never very dangerous as such, but they do put me in a position where I have to admit that I am a hypocrite.

Last night was one of those moments. Mr. Viking was over (“Bedtime stories”), and we had agreed that he get tested first before we’d engage in any kind of oral fun time. Normally it would not have been a problem for me to hold off. However, he had asked before about what I like and had clearly been taking notes, managing to push quite a few of my buttons as a result. I was so turned on that, at the end of my hand job, I finally gave in and sucked him off as he was cumming.

Not too proud of myself, but – as you all know – it is damn hard to take one’s own advice sometimes. Still, with something like this I should really know better…

Fuck it

I don’t have a bucket list, I have a fuckit list. Yes, yes, that’s not very lady-like, but then again, I never said that I was a lady…

I won’t lie – I have slept with my fair share of men. Granted, me and my friends never actually talk about numbers, so I don’t actually know how my number compares to theirs or general statistics, but I’ve been around the block. And why shouldn’t I have been?! I’d rather regret having done something (or someone) than the other way around. There are still a lot of known-to-me men out there I’d love to fuck. And sometimes it happens that one of these men becomes unavailable for carnal lust before I’ve had a chance to get to him (for various reasons: him getting serious/engaged/married, him being an ass and me stopping contact, him turning out to be a liar, etc. etc. etc.). That is extremely frustrating. Unfortunately, those are the men I tend to think about the most.

Like now, thinking about Mr. Volatile (Mr. Volatile – part 1 and part 2), who – I’m positive – would have been a great fuck, and whom I had planned on meeting for the first time just about now. That is, before he turned out to be a bit of a maniac and I returned my plane ticket. Sigh… Still, plenty more fish in the sea, plenty more guys on my fuckit list who are NOT unavailable, so plenty for a single girl to do!