The Time I Dated a Portuguese Man o’ War

I should have stomped his ass.
I should have stomped his ass.

Another really stupid mistake on my part. Right after I graduated college I had found a decent job in a professional office. Every week, however, people were getting fired little by little. None of us ever knew how long we had, and on top of that, the owner was kind of a creep. In the meantime, I had been applying for jobs that were in my actual career field, some of which were out of the area I was living at the time.

Over a holiday weekend visit with my family, I ran into Portuguese Man o’ War that I’d met before but didn’t remember much about the interaction. For whatever reason, we hit it off this time. (I think I was still hurting after my college boyfriend breakup, so I wasn’t seeing things clearly.) Sex wasn’t even good; he had a small dick and had bad breath from being diabetic, and he wasn’t even good looking, so I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. At the time, I thought he was just this really sweet guy. After only two months of seeing each other on weekends, I was offered a job in across the state where he lived, and we decided to get a place together.

About three weeks into our living arrangement, I knew I’d made a mistake. He turned out to be clingy and crazy. My job required me to bring my work home, even though it was unpaid. He didn’t like that. I said too bad, this is my career, and this is how it works in this field if I want to succeed. He also didn’t like the fact that this job was taking attention away from him – yes, that’s how needy he was. We were fighting like crazy, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of the situation safely, because when I told him I needed space, it angered him.

I’d kept a diary where I’d written my feelings about things over the years and had a suspicion that he’d been reading it. My suspicion was confirmed when I purposely wrote something about his small dick. That’s when things got really scary. He cornered me and wouldn’t allow me out of our bedroom. He was trying to get me to hit him so he could call the police on me, but I knew better. He did unacceptable things to torture my kid, and that’s when I knew I had to take legal action against him. I was issued a temporary restraining order against him, but officers allowed him inside the house to get his things without me being there. He destroyed my computer that I used for work, put itching powder (made with fiberglass) in my bras, rubbed deodorant all over the toilet seat, took all of my hygeine products, and said some pretty awful things to the officers about me. I’m sure it was obvious to them that he was a shitty person.

Not coincidentally, over a period of three weeks, I had three flat tires. We had to go to court over who was going to get to keep the apartment and to continue with the injunction. He claimed that I used him for money, that he’d paid for everything and I paid for nothing, which was a complete lie. I was fully prepared and presented copies of checks, receipts, etc., as my contribution to the household. Being that I’d moved a distance to live there and didn’t want to move my child again, he had clearly lied through his teeth, and apparently had a scarred history with women (I also learned that his ex wife had also had an injunction against him), I was granted a permanent injunction against him and was able to stay at my place.

But Portuguese Man o’ War didn’t stop there. He reported me to child services with claims that I did drugs in front of my kid all day long. I invited the caseworker into my home and explained the situation, and it was clear who was a liar. Besides the fact that my new job would have detected drug use, my kid didn’t even know what a drug was.

Thankfully, I never saw him again. Right after him is when I started dating cops.

Amusing Text Messages to a Cougar MILF

Amusing myself with unmatched panties.
Amusing myself with unmatched panties.

I have to turn my ringer off at night, because sometimes I get these random messages at times when no one should be contacting me unless it’s an emergency.

This one, for example, came from a guy from out of town that I met about four years ago right after my breakup. It was probably the worst sex of my life. He was 33 and had no idea what he was doing in bed. I never saw him again, although he did text me once in a while. But this was the last text I ever received, and we hadn’t communicated in some time, so this was clearly out of nowhere. I think he got the hint.


This comes from a friend that I have hooked up with once or twice. He has some pretty interesting stories and fantasies that we discuss. He may or may not be reading my blog material… 😉 But he sends the same messages asking the same damn questions, and I don’t have time to text all day long, because that’s how it ends up when I do answer him.

New material, please.
New material, please.

I like to f*ck with wrong numbers. This one amused the hell out of me but apparently not them. I was hoping to keep the conversation going. 😉

Maybe Lexi isn’t sexy.

The 50-Something Frat Boy

Not a frat boy fan.
Not a frat boy fan.

(** First, I’d like to thank my followers for your support and interest in my writing. I feel like I’m finally able to sit down and say a little bit. Still no answers about my friend’s death, but time is helping things move along.)

Now, I’m going to tell you about another oddball I dated earlier this year.

As I’ve said before, many people have suggested that I date older men. Besides the “arrangement” site, I did meet someone about six months ago that piqued my interest for a short time. Over a three-week period, we hung out multiple times and went on one actual date. He was about 10+ years older than me, in decent shape, easy to talk to, seemed to have his shit together.

But in the bedroom, he was clueless and selfish. He was okay making out, but in the end, I did most of the work, there wasn’t much foreplay, he satisfied himself and was done. I made the excuse that perhaps he was tired, but it happened three times. The very last time it happened, I literally got up, got dressed, and went home. He asked me if everything was okay. I said yep, I just need to feed my cats (because even they gave me more attention than he did!).

A few weeks later, I was out and about and had learned that he’d just gotten out of an engagement about three months prior. Well, I was not aware of this, because I was pretty sure he’d told me he hadn’t been in a relationship in two years. So again, I was the rebound girl. I was pretty pissed when I learned that, so I sent him a text asking him to confirm this information. He said it was true. I was like WTF… how does that equal two years? Next thing I know, he walks into the place where I’m sitting, strolls up and sits right next to me, carries on loudly like a frat boy, and says nothing to me. I paid my tab, walked out, and sent him a text telling him he’s an asshole.

I never heard back from him again, nor did I run into him (thankfully) until recently. He paid the bartender to buy me a drink on him as an apology for being an ass. A week or so later, I ran into him again and thanked him. We chatted for a few minutes, mostly about work. I only told him that I write sex blogs for content, never of course mentioning this site or what I actually do on cam.

Suddenly, he became interested in me all over again, bought me another drink (I guess he thinks that’s his ticket in), and he’s been texting and calling me wanting to hang out. I’ve barely replied. Today I noticed he left me a voicemail the other day asking why I hadn’t called him back after I was done blogging one evening, because he’s really interested in reading it. He sounded like a total perv dweeb. I never responded.

Will I ever respond? Doubtful. Will I ever tell him about this site? Never!