I really hate when people try to set me up with someone they “think” I’ll like. I’ve already told my friends and family please don’t, because usually their pickings are worse than my own. The most recent incident was my Aunt Paula trying to set me up with a contractor doing something at her house. (Here is where I should state Aunt Paula’s taste in men is pretty awful, so I take her words with a grain of salt in that aspect.)
Aunt Paula tells me this guy is close to my age (he’s older), is good at his job (construction type of work), has a great personality, a lot of energy and is good looking. I said okay, send me a photo and his name so I can check him out. Not bad in his photos, but his Facebook page says he’s been in a relationship for the last year and a half. I tell her this, she relays the message, he says no he’s single. I say bullshit… because no one keeps “in a relationship” as their Facebook status when they’re truly single. Still, she insists he doesn’t know what that is about. Oh, but I do, I tell her, because I’ve been through this before with liars. She has a tendency to believe everything a man will tell her instead of looking at plain, hard facts.
Over the next few weeks, Aunt Paula is bugging the shit out of me to please meet this guy, even if we just become friends. “Sorry,” I tell her, “I don’t have time for men in relationships or newly out of them. Plus, he lives over an hour away from me. No time for that.”
About two weeks later I needed to pick up a book Aunt Paula had for me. I stopped by, and coincidentally, Contractor shows up before I could leave. First impression: NO.
Besides the fact that Contractor looked better in his photos than in person, his “energy” was more on the level of someone with ADHD. He actually reminded me a lot of Skinny Leg Guy. He wouldn’t shut the hell up, couldn’t focus on the work he was there to do, his “jokes” were slightly on the offensive side, and he was too touchy-feely for me. He immediately made sexual references to things and implied “we will” have sex. He put his arm around my waist, tried hugging up to me, and basically did everything “wrong” – all the while excusing himself that he’s just a jokester. And the biggest part of this “catch”? I smelled alcohol on him.
Aunt Paula kept insisting that Contractor was a nice guy and seemed like fun. So I had to remind her that she’s been married to the same dud (yes dud, not dude!) for the last 25 years, which I’m sure would make any man seem like a lot of fun.
“Seriously, Aunt Paula,” I told her, “I couldn’t even hang out with this guy as a “friend” for more than a few minutes, because he’s already drained me of my energy and patience. If you like him so much, you date him, but no thank you!”
So far she’s left me alone about him, but I have a feeling I’m going to hear more later.
Writing this blog has been therapeutic. It’s allowing me to remind myself of the mistakes of my past and the patterns that keep emerging. It also reminds me the importance of keeping the balance between my work and personal endeavors, which are often combined.
One of the things that I deal with on a daily basis is men that I personally know asking me tons of personal questions and expecting me to send them photos and/or vids for free, taking both private and work time away from my activities. When I’m in the mood, I might give in, but for them to expect it kind of pisses me off. I am charging strange men for the same thing, so what makes these guys think they’re so special? This is one of the things I am changing about myself… limiting my time with freeloaders that won’t even offer to take me out on a real date. Not only is it another reminder of how selfish people can be, it also turns me off. And working in this field, I need to be turned on as much as possible. 🙂
Since I work from home, my private and work life are also intertwined here. I live in a place about the size of a shoebox, which worked fine when I was working out of the home. But now I’m feeling the squeeze with very little space to conduct shows, store items that are auctioned off, and my “office space” creating a mess in my living room. Between the lighting I use for camming and the desk area full of paperwork, I don’t exactly like inviting people over, because it just seems too crowded and messy now, and I don’t always have time to break down everything and hide it. So I’m considering a move within the next six months to a year, depending on how my financial situation works out with this gig.
And here’s another dilemma: telling people what I actually do for a living. The other job that cut my hours hasn’t needed me at all for the last two months. (This was no surprise, which is why I started working in the adult industry – cannot rely on employers anymore!) I’ve always managed to do multiple jobs anyway, so I come up with things to tell people – photo editing and writing projects (which is all true), and I leave it at that.
My family knows nothing about this, and I don’t feel I need to tell them a thing until I start making a really decent, steady income. A handful of my guy friends know, some of which have been helpful. Other than that, I’ve only been able to tell one of my female friends. I’m pretty sure the rest would feel differently about me and look down upon me for promoting “porn” – which is something most of them have complained about with their husbands. So I can’t exactly say ummm yeah, I’m doing something that you absolutely hate your husband looking at. I do feel that at some point, I’m going to be discovered either by someone that knows and feels the need to out me or perhaps recognizes me. I’m not sure I’m ready for that to happen yet, but when it does, I’m going to use it to my advantage.
I’m a zero bullshit type of person, which is why I’m easy to get along with. I know what I want, say what I want, and most people appreciate that. Too bad I can’t say the same for other people.
After Army Guy’s little hissy fit over not getting his way, I was like WTF… we’d just had a conversation that neither of us wanted a relationship nor had time for one. We’d only been out ONCE on an actual date at that point and seen each other twice. I didn’t know whether he was taking things out on me that was happening at his house, but I certainly didn’t appreciate it, nor did I deserve it. That type of response will cause me to start building a wall and push me away for good. I felt that he was sabotaging what little was left, so he said he wanted to see me in person to talk about it, since texting can cause confusion.
When he arrived at my place, I was pretty tense from it all. We gave each other a long hug, and he apologized. (This is where I’m putting things together.) Remember earlier when I said his response was “she takes things too personal”? Well, now the story is she’s banging someone else at the house, and he felt disrespected. Okay, understandable, so why did it take him coming over to tell me that? I mean, if we’re being honest with each other here, so why not have this disclosure to begin with?
Army Guy is a charmer, and I couldn’t resist kissing him. But that’s really all I was ready to do. Then he started pawing at me and going a lot farther than I was ready for. I had to tell him to slow down a few times. I could tell he just wanted to fuck me and leave again… which is exactly what happened. Then I was pissed at myself for allowing it.
And then a storm hit – both literally and figuratively – and I was out of power for nearly a week. On a Friday he’d asked how I was doing, and he wanted to see me on Saturday. I thought that “maybe” he’d at least offer to bring me a hot meal, but I never heard from him until five days later. By then I was pretty stressed out dealing with my situation (junk food, no ice, cold showers, no sleep, zero power, feeling gross). I’d had way too much time alone in the dark to think about life and how I wanted to live it and what types of people I want in it, so I blew him off, because I was pissed. I was starting to feel like I was almost dealing with another Big Liar.
Army Guy then claimed he’d been trying to call me for 3 days (LIE!!!) so I sent him a screenshot of my phone calls… showing just one call from him the day prior. Of course, he couldn’t argue with that, so he changed the subject. There were just too many red flags now. Between his nondisclosure of things and selfish pursuits, I felt I was being played. (Oh yeah, and did I mention that while he was giving me a massage once, he started telling me about a married woman that wanted to see him again? Not exactly the greatest timing, dear.) I also remembered that he’d contacted me six months prior to this arrangement, prior to his deployment, wanting to meet up. Putting two and two together again, I realized he had been living with this other woman, because he told me they were living together before he deployed – and when he came back, she’d been fucking her ex.
I sent him a text saying this thing between us isn’t going to work. I had no intentions of seeing him again, because I didn’t want to hear anymore bullshit lies, manipulations, and I certainly wasn’t going to allow him to treat me like I had a revolving door. I expected him to either agree or at least ask me why. Instead, he decided to make it ugly and act like a big fucking baby (BFB) not getting his way. Total turnoff!
The following day I awoke to text messages starting at 7 a.m. He was going ballistic: “thanks for breaking up with me by text like a 16 y/o.” Umm, okay. Then more insults saying I was a shitty lay anyway, blamed me for us not getting together, sarcastically said good luck with the panty business (although when he was getting his way he was FULLY supportive! 😉 ), called me inconsiderate for not telling him in person, blah blah blah. I honestly didn’t think it mattered how I told him, since this wasn’t a relationship to break up anything except a convenient lay for him.
I was in no mood to argue with someone that was acting like a BFB. In fact, while he was bombarding my phone with these shitty messages, I was reading them out loud to the Norwegian guy I’d hooked up with the night before. After the shitty lay comment, the Norwegian told me to tell him that I’m a great lay. So I did, then I blocked Army Guy for good.
I’m sure he’s still reading my blogs hoping for his claim to fame that he fucked a hot MILF/cougar and still probably jerks off thinking about it. Oh yeah, and he’s still following me on Instagram. 😉
On the date with Army Guy, I informed him of my blog and camming, which are completely divergent from my former career. He seemed really cool with it, supportive, perhaps wanted to participate. (Later on, he did participate in cam chat, making lots of viewers jealous. It was a huge turn-on!)
Anyway… back to the date. I was hot, horny, and ready to fuck. We eventually made our way back to my house, starting on the couch with a nightcap and a really heavy make-out session that didn’t take long to move onto the bed.
Army Guy went down on me, and I realized he’d had some practice since I’d seen him last. He was definitely better than before, although still needed some fine tuning, because he seemed a little too aggressive/excited. His fingers were a little rough, and I had to keep reminding him to slow down. Also, at times something about the angle of his tongue literally rubbed me the wrong way. (I’m sure that women reading this can somehow relate.) But I did manage to teach him how to make me cum. And oh my god… he had two fingers inside of me thumping while he was eating my pussy like he hadn’t eaten dinner earlier. I came hard, but I was ready to fuck, because his cock turned me on.
Army Guy had the perfect fucking cock. His dick was probably a good six inches AND thick. I really, really liked sucking him off. I got so horny doing it that I would almost cum, but we both wanted to fuck – and fuck HARD. My perfect position with him was straddling him while I rode him on top, my clit rubbing all over his shaft, then leaning down toward him and shoving my tits in his mouth and rubbing my clit on the area above his dick, his dick shoved all the way inside of me. Apparently, we both liked it a little rough in that department. (To be honest, just writing this is making me wet as hell!) I have some pretty good Kegel skills, so just by doing certain positions and tightening, we managed to both cum at the same time. He started sending me text messages saying how great the sex was and how he jerked off thinking about it, how horny he was and how he couldn’t wait to fuck me again. (Remember those words.)
I saw Army Guy two more times after that night. I honestly believe he didn’t just come to “see me”, because he wasn’t around for long: we had sex, and he’d leave. The first time, I just figured it was timing. I had already told him I didn’t want a “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” situation, and we both agreed we didn’t want an actual relationship. He expressed that he wanted to take me out on his bike and do actual dates. (I honestly don’t expect anyone in his 20s to want a relationship at all, much less with a woman probably closer to his mother’s age.) However, I do expect to be respected and not lied to. After all, I’m offering him my company and time, and allowing him in my home. (Plus, it wasn’t like he was the only guy trying to hang out with me, so I did have some other choices if I felt the need. I didn’t.)
Then things just got weird. Weird as in – for whatever reason (intuition), I felt the need to ask if he lived alone. (I don’t know why I never asked, but I did ask why he’d moved 45 minutes away from the last place he lived – and his answer was it was a better quality place. Okay, whatever, sounded plausible I guess.) He informed me that he did have a roommate. Again, I “felt” the need to ask if this was a girlfriend. His answer: “No, but she’s someone I used to sleep with.”
Okay, now things were starting to get into perspective. The more questions I asked at different times, the more I started noticing different answers or avoidance. Total bullshit. With the newfound information that Army Guy was still living with his ex, I started putting up my guard. I was tired of being the rebound girl and told him so. He stated that he and his ex had been over for a few months, but he was just trying to find another place to live. Okay, I’ve been through that myself, so I get it.
Then something happened with a text “miscommunication” that I’m unsure was an actual miscommunication at all. Apparently, he was angry at his live-in ex over something, and the answer he’d given me was “she takes things too personal.” Okay, no further details. Told him I was doing some blog writing, he says he’s excited about reading it until he asked me if it was about him. No, however, the beginning almost sounds like him (Tattooed Cub), but the physical description is different.
Unexpectedly, Army Guy gets pissy, and text messages go from zero to nearly psycho in two seconds saying, “Yeah I’m fat, he’s not? Terrific”. I’m like WTF… I never said anything to imply that. All I said was Tattooed Cub is heavily tatted, shorter in height, and bearded.
So he sends: “My night just did a fucking nose dive so I’m gonna go before I lose it,” and his messages didn’t get much better than that.
I had no idea what he was talking about. I said what do you mean? What happened? I thought something happened at his house. So how is this my fault?
His response: “Comes a time when it would be nice to see you write about the guy you are actually with and not all the ex hookups. Just food for thought.”
Really? Suddenly, I got the feeling that he was only in this for his own personal selfish gratification. Being in this career field, I can’t have anyone acting jealous (prior to this he claimed he doesn’t get jealous – another lie) and ruining my chi. It just can’t happen. Besides, I thought, I have been single 15 of my adult years, so he can back the fuck off and wait his turn for me blogging about him. I hope he’s reading this now.
A few years ago I met a really cute blue-eyed (yes another with blue eyes!) guy at a beer joint near my house. He seemed well spoken, intelligent, and mature for his ripe young age of 25. He’d served in the army, had just gone through a divorce, and was going to college. He told me about his time in the war in Afghanistan and had PTSD as a result of it.
We saw each other maybe a handful of times, always having sex, of course. It was okay, but once it got a little scary, because he thought that I liked to be choked while having sex (I don’t). At some point he had this really deranged look in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure if he was having a flashback or what the hell was going on. So I stayed away from him… for a while.
He contacted me a few months later and ended up staying the night after telling me he had tried working things out with an ex, which is why I hadn’t heard from him. (Go figure.) He had school the next day, I had work, but I couldn’t wait to get him out of my house. When I woke up with him there, I’d wished I had never allowed him over. I had started remembering that he was quick-tempered, and knowing he might have been mentally unstable, I knew I didn’t want to see him again. As I watched him leave, I told myself never again, and thought for a minute he looked sad and pathetic like Shrek trodding down my driveway.
I didn’t hear from him again for over a year, saying he was going to be deploying again soon, but at the time I was going on a date with someone else and not interested in Army Guy. Six months later, I get a text from him saying he’s back in town. I should have gone with my last memory of him leaving my driveway that one memorable morning, but gave him the benefit of the doubt, especially when he told me he was in a different state of mind than when I’d seen him last.
He asked me out on an actual date, so I said sure, why not? Army Guy picked me up on his motorcycle, and we had a really amazing time. I’d forgotten what it was like to be on an actual date with real, stimulating conversation. Plus, his eyes were mesmerizing, and I was really attracted to him much more so than I was the first time I met him. His kisses made me wet, and I knew we’d be fucking by the end of the night.
I read an interview today about Jennifer Lopez’s autobiography titled True Love, in which she talks about her failed relationships and marriages. Her disappointment came from giving too much of herself, giving into her partner’s wants and needs, instead of going for what she wanted and needed. I find myself falling into that situation time and time again.
This vicious cycle of giving instead of listening to my own needs probably stems from the way I grew up. I watched mothers around me give to men for years, even at times putting them before their children, because they feel their value somehow lies with making the man happy instead of themselves. Putting everyone first and neglecting my own needs was something I became conditioned to do, and it’s a really tough cycle to break if you’ve been doing it your entire life.
Looking back at past relationships, even if I didn’t want to have sex, I would do it anyway just to make the man happy. This type of behavior always causes resentment and misery, and it often results in the lack of sexual desire. Believe it or not, for a long time I didn’t want sex. In fact, I avoided it, because I viewed it as a boring chore rather than something pleasurable. It was because I kept giving into my partner’s needs and wants (not just sexually) rather than taking care of my own.
Even now, I find myself (and my friends remind me) that I give too much of myself too quickly, and I’m too trusting at first. I guess I just tend to like people more than they deserve. So after spending nearly a week without power from the storm, I have a different perspective of things… I’m putting me first, and anyone that can’t handle it can hit the road.
Tattooed Cub was the first (and only) cub of my time to seriously hang out with me. We never went on any actual “dates”, and I always hosted, but it was nice to have someone to have a meal with, watch a movie with, or (of course) make out with. We lasted off and on for a few months, but he seemed really unreliable, which ruined it. He worked a lot, which was great, but every time he’d make plans, he’d either have to cancel, or he’d be so late I was ready to go to sleep. A few times his excuse was that he’d fallen asleep. I began to wonder if it was more than just work keeping him busy. It got to the point that I had to tell him I was no longer going to make plans with him if he was going to stand me up. That was pretty much the end of that.
Every few months, Tattooed Cub sends me a text asking how I am and telling me how much I turn him on. But… BUT!!! I noticed he was obviously dating someone, then blowing me off, then coming back to me. That doesn’t exactly work for me. He has a girlfriend now, and although I’d love to hang out with him, I’m not going to be “that woman” shagging taken men on the side. But I still do get wet thinking about the fun we had while it lasted. 😉
In times of a crisis, you quickly learn who truly cares about you – who sticks around to hear you out, to give you a hand, to sit with you while you weather a storm, and to help you take care of the aftermath. These are times when, if the person you’ve been having sex with isn’t around for you, you begin to reconsider the arrangement. Because: if you’re giving a part of yourself to someone and not even getting so much as an offer to cuddle or hug during difficult times, you feel undervalued. And that’s not a very good feeling – and certainly not worth the exchange of a good orgasm.
Is there such a thing as a tattoo fetish? Because tattooed men really fucking turn me on. Big time!
A few years ago when I was newly single, I got onto Tinder and started swiping mostly to the left. One of the few right swipes included a cutie that was heavily tattooed, had a motorcycle (woo hoo!), and seemed like he had his shit together for his age. He was 26, a war veteran, and had just gone through a divorce. He also had one of those long beards that I wasn’t too fond of at the time, but I quickly got over that.
We communicated for a bit and decided to meet. When Tattooed Cub showed up, I wasn’t expecting him to be just about the same height as me, but I blew that off, because he had sweet blue eyes, and he was in pretty good shape. And those tattoos were making me wet!
We had a few drinks and ended up on my infamous make-out cougar couch, kissing passionately. I think he was a bit nervous, so I took the lead with my cat-like reflexes, pawing at his chest and pulling off his shirt. Da-damn! More tats! I was about to cum in my silky black thong just looking at them. I knew I loved tatted men, but I hadn’t realized how much tattoos turned me on like this. I wanted to maul him.
Wearing a skirt, I straddled him on the couch and grinded my hips against him. He unbuttoned my shirt and started feeling my tits, taking off my bra, sucking on my nipples. I pressed them into his face, his beard softly tickling me. I continued grinding on him harder, feeling his hard dick throbbing in his jeans.
We were getting sweaty, and the small couch wasn’t going to work for what was about to come (no pun intended), so I decided it was time to relocate into my air-conditioned bedroom. Tattooed Cub lifted my skirt and pulled off my thong. His soft beard tickled as he kissed up my legs and between my thighs, which actually felt nice. His tongue made its way to my wet pussy, circling around my clit, teasing me and sucking me. I was so turned on by him and his tattoos… I just wanted him inside of me.
Reaching down, I unzipped his jeans and pulled out his dick. It was a nice average length and girth, so I knew it could pleasure me without hurting me. I stuck his dick in my mouth and deep-throated for a few minutes. Knowing he was about to cum, I stopped and got on top of him like I was a cougar attacking her prey. I held his hands down and fucked him fast and hard. It only took a few minutes before we both came at the same time. All the while, I was staring at his tattoos, because they made me cum harder.
Tattooed Cub and I lay in my bed for a while sweaty and satisfied. I knew he wanted to leave, which was fine with me, because we both had to be up early the following day. It wouldn’t be our last time together… and I decided it was time for me to get more of my own tattoos.
Last night I posted about being a rebound girl with Big Liar. I wanted to continue this story and be done with it in two posts, because I have much sexier things to blog about. (I just want to keep you all hanging. 😉 )
Big Liar eventually apologized for hurting me, which was a huge surprise, because he’s not one for admitting wrongdoing. I think he did it for his own selfish reasons, because he needed me to do things for him since no one else was around. Yes, I was a sucker. But at the same time, I needed the work he was providing me, because my regular job hours had been cut so drastically that I was in survival mode. It was either that or have no money for groceries. Shitty choices.
At some point, Big Liar and I went on a completely miserable camping trip. Why I agreed to this, I don’t know. Perhaps because we were on normal speaking terms again, I hadn’t met anyone else at that point, and I hadn’t been camping since college. It sounded like fun – plus, he was supposed to be “experienced” and told me about all of the fun stuff we’d do. (I’ll remind you here that he had no driver’s license, so I had to drive his truck.)
Thankfully, I know enough about surviving in the woods to take necessities that he didn’t – like plenty of water and food and eating utensils and baby wipes and blankets. He had two tents, one of which didn’t stand up, a couple of blowup mattresses that didn’t hold air very well, hunting rifles, a knife, and a dead flashlight.
Big Liar’s idea of camping was making a fire in 85-degree weather and sitting around drinking, beginning at 8 a.m. I told him that’s not camping – that’s what homeless people do. And then I laughed hysterically, because instinctively, by then I knew I was fucked.
Big Liar literally drank all day while I found things to do around the campsite, like cook and clean, take a walk, look at the lake and read a book. I was really bored and disappointed, because I felt like I was by myself. In fact, I thought to myself, I could have had a better time by myself and have been way better prepared had I known this would happen. He was so wasted by dinner he threatened me when I tried to make him stop drinking “my” beer (I had 4 for the entire trip, he had beer, Jack, and Fireball). I was scared for a minute, because it was then that I realized here I was alone with this ass (absolutely no one was left on the camping grounds), he had weapons, he was wasted, and since he’d never shown any signs of violence prior, I’m not exactly sure what he’s capable of… but I knew that I was stronger, have better balance and sober, and if I really had to, I’d kick the shit out of him and throw his ass in the fire. Fifteen seconds after he threatened me he remembered nothing about it. I knew I had to leave, if not for my safety, then for my sanity.
Eventually, he passed out around 7 p.m. and snored like a wild hog. The fire went out, hardly any firewood was left, and the flashlight was dead. I was using my phone’s flashlight to get around. This is when I took this perfect opportunity to look at Big Liar’s phone. I wouldn’t normally have looked at anyone’s phone, but I felt something was up, and he’d already lied to me more than once. Besides, he’d left me by myself with nothing else to do in the dark. What was a girl to do all alone?
Oh. My. God. I was being so played! Big Liar had been sexting several other women, getting blowjobs from his 66-year-old divorce attorney’s secretary (in return for reduced fees!), begging other women for nude photos and trying to take other ones out to dinner (even though he couldn’t drive). I had been the sucker driving his ass all over town to his court appointments and whatever else he needed, cooking for him and whatever else he had me doing to help him out. Then I saw “babysitter porn” (the legal kind, but nevertheless) and I about lost it, because of the age of his kids. It was sickening. My head was spinning and aching.
I was shaking as I was reading through it all… and Big Liar snored loudly throughout the night. I packed my shit, took his keys, and drove away, leaving him there… I got to the gate and it was locked for the night, and I didn’t have the code on the lock to leave. All I wanted to do was go home, but I was stuck. I had to go back, attempted to stay in his truck and charge my phone because I was using it as a flashlight and it had died – and then the fucking truck battery died! I truly felt like I was in my own horror movie. It was pitch black, the fire was mostly out, and I couldn’t even see where to squat to take a piss.
Everything in my life became crystal clear to me at that point. It was like a reawakening, an epiphany… I didn’t sleep the entire night but pretended to, got up shortly after daybreak and said, “Let’s go, I have to go into work today,” and began throwing everything into the bed of the truck. Big Liar refused to pack, refused to leave, had already started drinking at 7 a.m., somehow had jumped the truck battery, and had hidden the truck key. I found an area in the park that had an outlet to charge my phone, called my boss to pick me up, which was embarrassing, but she understood. All I wanted to do was go home.
That evening, Big Liar “yelled” at me by text that I left him there and no one was around to drive him. Boo-hoo! He claimed he had to drive himself back all alone without a license and could have been pulled over. Again, boo-hoo! I’d wished he’d gotten pulled over, because he was drunker than shit driving down a main highway on an already drunken driving suspended license, so he’d have deserved it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt anyone else. After that, I ignored him.
Two months later, I found out Big Liar been trying to work things out with his ex-wife (by then they were divorced) around the holidays. He came by my house after the holidays to “say hi” one night when he was wasted, and when I asked him about them getting back together he said it wasn’t working out. We’d both been drinking, we made out, because I was just stupid and weak… No sex, because he can’t get it up.
A week later, I got an email from his ex-wife that she wanted to talk, because “we may be dealing with the same habitual liar” and that she had given him the benefit of the doubt and they were trying to work things out. I apologized and told her everything I knew, and Big Liar blamed me for everything, claiming I made up lies about all of the other women (even though I had physical evidence), that somehow I had hacked into his phone and made it look like he sent those messages to other women and that I was obsessed with him. Mmm-kay.
When Big Liar unexpectedly stopped by my house drunk a few weeks ago (while I was broadcasting on MFC no less!), I refused to open the door and immediately told his ex, because she and I still talk. Unfortunately, he still lives down the street… and got his license back the other day. I highly suspect another driving under the influence arrest will happen in the near future.
I want no part of his loser ass whatsoever. The end.
For whatever reason, I tend to attract guys that are newly single or somewhat undecided about their single status. It didn’t matter much when I first became single, but it’s been a good three years now, so obviously I’m in a different frame of mind. Now whenever I meet someone I make it a point to ask when their last relationship was… and then I move on, because 99% of the time, it’s within the past few months.
Last year I dated someone off and on for several months that I’d gone to high school with but had never known. I say off and on, because neither of us wanted a relationship, he had nothing to offer me as a man, and he consistently pissed me off. I started out doing work for him as a barter, but was never paid in full. He basically worked very little, drank a lot, had no driver’s license, and 4 kids that I later learned hated him. Yes, he was a loser, but I can also be an idiot.
The whole thing was more of a convenience, since he lived down the street (literally down the street – I can see his driveway from mine). I also did some manual labor work for him for which he ended up paying me well (he’s lazy, so I could do twice the amount of work as he), and I was also his driver (he paid me) since he couldn’t drive. So that part seemed like a win/win for us both.
We did have a lot of fun together, however, at first. We went boating a lot, which is one of my favorite things to do… and had a lot of great oral sex. He is probably one of the best at oral that I’ve ever been with. There were times that he’d make me cum four or five times in one session. Oral and kissing were the only things he was good at, because he either always had whiskey dick or came in 30 seconds… and I really needed penetration. While I enjoy oral and kissing, I need a good hard fucking often.
I eventually realized he was probably the biggest liar I’d ever met (so I will refer to him as “Big Liar” from now on). Even though we weren’t in a “relationship” it seemed we had a mutual understanding to not sleep around with other people while we were together. Honesty was not his policy whatsoever; he was sneaky, and the more I learned, the more I began to distance myself. One evening I was bitching to my bartender friend about him. Another woman was sitting next to me and started asking details…
Does he live here and do this for a living? Yes and yes. His name is Big Liar? Yes.
She looked at me and was really nice about it and said that she was also going through a divorce and had briefly started seeing him. I thought how and when, because I live down the street and would have noticed another vehicle. When she told me the dates, that’s when I figured out it was when I was out of town visiting my family. She showed me text messages he’d sent her in those recent weeks while he was still with me – he was trying to hook up, but she was no longer interested. I was fuming, but not at her. I thanked her for telling me everything, and we’ve been friends ever since. (Of course, that really bit him in the ass! 😀 )
I ended up leaving and driving straight to his house to tell him what a piece of shit liar he was. He acted like he didn’t care one single ounce about my feelings. I left angry and in tears, hurt and confused.
But the shitty part was – I was still doing work for him and needed the money badly, so I had to continue dealing with him.
Someone I have always longed for, someone forbidden… and you finally came to me with wet lips on mine, hand in my hair, hand down my spine, hand slowly sliding to my ass…
Turning me over and gliding your lips up and down my spine, kissing my tattoos like no one else has done before, causing chills of ecstasy… My nipples harden, you reach your head around and grab one of them in your mouth… I feel your soft hair against the back of my arm… My back arches, pressing myself against your hardening cock.
You flip me back around, kissing my nipples, working your way down my belly… Your tongue on my clit, circling and whirring me into a bliss. I ache for you to be inside of me. I want to moan in my normal tone, but not so that anyone but us can hear.
I am amazed that this is happening. So wrong, yet feels so right.
Once I realized I was being played, I was not a happy camper. Bawh-ston was avoiding me for what? It didn’t make sense to me, because I know I hadn’t done anything wrong. When someone spends nearly every night with you and suddenly stops without any explanation, it just makes you go hmmmm… Not to mention, it was a blow to my self-esteem after a difficult divorce, because at this point my ex was in a new full-blown relationship.
The following week was St. Patrick’s Day, and I knew that Bawh-ston would be enjoying the festivities instead of paying me back the money he owed. He didn’t even invite me, but instead met his friend out (Samira saw him). I wanted to show up at the bar and give him a piece of my mind, but I was coming down with the flu and felt like complete shit.
Instead, I called and told him how I felt about the way he was treating me. He said I didn’t need an invitation, to meet him at the bar. I reminded him that he hadn’t spoken to me all week and that he still owed me money. He said he didn’t have the money this week (but he could still afford to drink at the bar). I could hear loudness in the background and him having a good time for himself. I was furious and hung up. I was so furious I called him right back and told him that I was going out with my friends and maybe I’ll meet a real man. He didn’t know I was sick, so he must have believed me, because he said go right ahead. I couldn’t believe he acted like he didn’t care. So while he was out drinking green beer, I was downing Nyquil, feeling miserable in many ways.
Less than three months later, Bawh-ston is “in a relationship” according to Facebook. I thought it was a joke, because he had just turned 44 years old, and this girl was only like 22 – the same age as his daughter for which he was still paying back child support! Nope, not a joke, because I’d learned they moved in together. So I called him up again asking for the money he owed me. His response?
“You want me to pay you for a date we went on together?” And he laughed about it. Talk about the wrong thing for him to do to someone he jilted and ripped off! I told him that he was a “looo-sah” of a man that had to have women pay for him.
To get him back, I waited about a month or so and had a friend send him random nude photos from her Tracfone saying she wanted to see him again. He actually fell for it for a little while until she sent some that didn’t have matching tattoos. (He still doesn’t know who was behind it. 😉 )
I learned earlier this year that Bawh-ston and the girl had a baby. Better her than me! Finally… the END of Bawh-ston!
Bawh-ston and I ended up dating for less than three months. During those months, he was spending the night at my place probably five times a week. He had been living with a roommate and when the lease was up he moved in with his cousin, supposedly looking for his own place.
I cooked dinner for us (I paid for groceries) most nights, sometimes breakfast on the weekends. And I’m not talking hamburger helper here. If you’ve seen me on cam in the kitchen, I cook up some pretty good stuff that’s not cheap. Once a week he would get takeout, usually Chinese or sushi. He took me on an actual date once during the entire time we dated to a sushi place and then his favorite bar (where we were introduced). He was the first guy I went out with in public since my separation/divorce, which had been about a year prior, so that was big for me. I managed to get him to help me do some things around the house, like mow the lawn (once) and “fix” things my slumlord didn’t do. One of the last things I got him to do was help me move into my new place.
Around the end of month two, Bawh-ston and I went to a concert. Since the tickets had to be purchased together online and I was the only one with a credit card, he said he’d pay me back in cash, buy dinner that evening and drive. Tickets were $160 each. He gave me $100 and promised to give me the rest next payday. I ended up making us steak dinner, driving, paying for parking, and buying my own $10 beer. He acted like a fucking douche the entire night, walking ahead of me and ignoring me and being pissy. I suppose it was because he had spent all of his money on beer and pot instead of being a man and doing what he promised. Either way, the entire thing really pissed me off, because not only did he screw me on promises, he was treating me like shit on top of it – and I knew I didn’t deserve that.
At the time, I had just started a new job and barely scraping by, so now this started to become an issue. I was newly divorced and in a lot of debt from that, moving, and being unemployed for 5 months. I definitely could not afford to foot the bill on a grown ass man!
Shortly after the concert incident, I texted Bawh-ston on a Saturday during a huge event in the city suggesting that instead of spending money (that I didn’t have), we could buy some beer and sit by the river. It was a beautiful day. He said he was having lunch at the bar. I knew that meant – “lunch” was going to end up being the rest of the day at the bar. He stopped answering my text messages altogether, so I was fuming, and I began to wonder if he’d met someone else. Samira saw him at the bar dancing around like a moron, so she recorded it and posted it to Facebook. He was by himself in a mostly empty bar.
Apparently, he was pissed at me for posting on Facebook earlier that week that I’d rather be on the back of a Harley than working that day. He took offense to that, because he doesn’t own a Harley, but instead of being a man about it, he chose to ignore me. Here we go, I thought, another fucking insecure asshole I’m dealing with here.
Since Bawh-ston had drank too much, I drove to my place, leaving his vehicle behind. There was no denying our mutual chemistry. We’d barely made it through the door without ripping each other’s clothes off, leaving a trail of jeans, shirts, boots, and lingerie. He had the softest lips and knew how to use them. (A great kisser always turns me on!) Had I known this before, I wouldn’t have waited so long to seduce him.
He was uncut, which was much more pleasurable for me, and his dick must have measured at least seven inches. I think we surprised each other at how much we really enjoyed one another. I mean, I knew the sex was going to be good, but I wasn’t expecting it to be that good. We spent hours in the bedroom before passing out – hours of fucking, sucking, and licking like porn stars.
Both of us had to be at work the next morning, so between a late night of drinking and amazing sex, we were both pretty exhausted. After dropping him off at his truck at the bar, I wasn’t expecting to hear back from him soon, if at all, figuring he was a player and a hookup. But I was wrong. He texted me that afternoon saying he’d had a good time and wanted to see me the following evening after work. Since this was about a week before the Christmas holiday and my first year living alone, I welcomed the company. We’d also had a cold winter, so having someone over that could help keep me warm was a plus.
We ended up enjoying each other’s company so much that we started seeing each other every day. For anyone that knows me, this is something really big for me. I’m the type of person that likes my space, and most guys annoy me if they hang around for too long or too often. We learned that we’d had a lot in common. I felt like he was the guy that I always wanted when I was in my 20s, but one of us would have broken the other’s heart. Unexpectedly, I didn’t spend Christmas alone. Bawh-ston ended up meeting some of my family (also really big for me), and they also liked him – even my gay cousin thought he was hot ;). But I had already told them I didn’t think this was going to be a permanent thing.
Although I really liked Bawh-ston, there were too many things that were deal breakers. One was the fact that he was 43 years old and didn’t have any motivation to better himself in the workplace. I later found out he didn’t even own a credit card, which would explain a lot. He had never been married, was still paying child support on his adult daughter, and he also had a roommate. He had zero motivation to do much of anything on his own unless I suggested it and showed him around. He had been living in my area for two years and hadn’t been anywhere except a few bars!
And then of course, the drinking. I hadn’t realized how bad the drinking was until he spent the night on a Friday and woke up on Saturday to pop a beer at 10 a.m., even before breakfast was served. I pretty much knew right then that this was going to be a huge issue for me, because my last relationship also had a drinking issue, and I wasn’t about to deal with it again. But like so many of us do, I continued with this relationship while it lasted. Again, I was vulnerable, probably somewhat lonely, and at the time he was a comfort pillow.
I should have gone with my first impression, but the combination of vulnerability and chemistry got in the way.
Bawh-ston was introduced to me by mutual bartender friends a couple of months prior to my final dissolution of marriage. My first impression? He was really good looking, around my age, and in pretty good shape. He had an attractive personality – he was humorous, friendly and easy to talk to, and seemed easy to get along with. But another first impression? He looks like an alcoholic, I thought.
Bawh-ston left with his friends, then maybe three weeks later we ran into each other at the same place while I was out with one of my fun cougar friends, Samira (who happens to fit the meaning of her name perfectly). Bawh-ston and I flirted heavily – so heavily to the point that I had my hand on his thigh and could feel his cock down his leg. Oh. My. God. Totally unexpected that he would have such a large cock. No wonder I was so attracted to this guy.
Unable to find Samira, I assumed she had to be to work early and left. For whatever reason (probably too much to drink), I thought Bawh-ston had left with another woman out the back door. I’ll still never really know to this day if that was the case or not, because later he denied it, saying he went outside to smoke weed. Apparently, he had come back inside the bar and saw that I’d left. I was probably pissed about the “other woman” that may or may not have existed, and so walked all the way home (probably two miles).
It turned out Samira had not left, but maybe was in the bathroom too long. I was drunk and stupid walking around a CVS asking something that I can’t remember, but probably something to do with Halloween makeup. My cell phone pics the following day chronicled my trip home past the tire shop and other random construction on the walkway. Thank goodness for cell phone cameras on drunk nights, right? I guess I was in CVS amusing myself by pressing the buttons on all of the mechanical Halloween props and filming them. Then for whatever reason, I’d decided that the tire shop was super interesting, because I took several (blurry) shots of it. Then there were pictures of orange flags in the ground for some construction job going on just before I got to my house. I don’t remember walking in the door.
Fast forward about two months later, days before the final decree, I ran into Bawh-ston again. This time was even better. We’d hashed out the last time we’d seen each other and the details of me leaving. We learned that we only lived about 1/4 of a mile away from each other. Super heavy flirtation began. And then we both decided that we wanted to fuck each other… right now.
Had a girl’s night out with too many drinks, met a 30-year-old Argentinian that I immediately knew I wanted. In other words, I wasn’t leaving without him. He had thick, short dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. Perfect teeth, sexy body… the type of guy I’d never have met in my 20s.
Now let me tell you what I don’t do – public display of affection. Locals know everyone, and I don’t like people knowing my business. But for some reason, I was so entranced with this hottie, I forgot my own rule and ended up making out with him in front of everyone before leaving in a cab and heading to my house. (I ended up paying for the cab.)
It didn’t take long before walking through the door to start back where we’d left off in the club. We basically tore each other’s clothes off and went at it. I had a brand new batch of condoms and we put one to use. The sex was totally hot. He liked me on top of him, which I prefer anyway, and we just pounded each other until we both came… and that didn’t take long for either of us. Then he said he had to pick his kids up clear across town in a few hours and needed to get his car. I ended up falling asleep, and when I woke up he was gone. We never exchanged numbers.
About three or four days later, something wasn’t right “down there”. I wasn’t worried about having any diseases, so I figured it’s probably just a regular women’s issue. Two more days later, and I wasn’t feeling so well. I brush it off to thinking I’m coming down with something or it’s hormonal. Then I started having dreams (two to be exact) about being pregnant. But I knew that was impossible. Finally, the issue came to a head.
Apparently, Mr. Argentina failed to inform me that the condom had slipped off during sex and was still inside of me. I couldn’t feel it way up there; I thought he’d flushed it. In the meantime, I had been playing with my toys and probably shoving it back up inside without even realizing it. I was just thankful I didn’t end up in the emergency room over it from toxic shock or something.
Once I discovered what had happened, I thought how in the fuck could a grown ass man not tell me the condom had fallen off? Embarrassment? Stupidity? Did he even know how to use one properly (given that he had been married for a while). I didn’t even have his phone number to remind him about what he did. I was pretty disgusted by the whole way it happened. It had never happened before, and it hasn’t happened since.
Once I dropped Skinny Leg Guy off at the skanky trailer park, I wasn’t sure I’d hear from him again. And I didn’t care. I hadn’t noticed until after he was gone that he’d used FOUR glasses plus a shot glass while he stayed for less than 12 hours. Then I noticed he’d left dust or dirt or something on my bed and on my floor. So between that and him leaving up my toilet seat, drinking vodka at 10 a.m…. I knew I was never inviting him over again. Fucking slob.
I went to my appointment, and while I was sitting there, my phone started blowing up with texts from him. This was on a Thursday afternoon. The messages were friendly, but bothersome, because I was trying to relax and get my monthly manicure and pedicure. Can’t exactly type when your hands are being occupied. By 6 o’clock that evening, he was trying to worm his way to come back to my house. I told him I had work to do and “maybe tomorrow” just to shut him up.
The texts continued. He was drinking with his cousin or uncle or someone and apparently was bored and sending stupid random shit. Again, I told him, “I haven’t been able to get any work done, because I keep getting text messages”. Now I was really annoyed. I texted him back at some point letting him know what a freaking mess he left at my place.
The following day, he texted me in the evening, and I told him I was busy working. I guess I answered him at some point at a very late hour, not realizing how late, because I’d been up working all night. I guess he got the message on Saturday morning, because his messages started up at 8 a.m., and before noon, he was “heading out to drink” with his cousin again. Lots of red flags here on the drinking.
He wanted to know when I was free again, I told him I had plans with my girlfriends and I was about to leave town in a couple of days. His messages continued throughout the day, I made more excuses, because I didn’t want him showing up at my house unexpectedly. At that point, I just had to ignore him.
The last time he messaged me was at 4 a.m. And then I didn’t hear from him for a month. An entire month! And then I get this message… at wee morning hours again.
When it comes to dating, it seems to be one extreme or the other – either I never hear from them or they’re clingers that won’t go away.
The most recent clinger I met while playing a game one evening. I know I’d seen him around but had never had a conversation with him until that night. He was 35, had just moved from New York to take care of his sick mother (which meant he lived with her). That should have been Red Flag #1. Totally not my type at all (do I even have a type?), but for whatever reason, I felt like making out with him by the end of the night.
We went back to my place and talked for a while. It was then that I noticed he had one skinny leg. I can’t remember what had happened to him exactly, but he had almost lost his leg at some point. I pretended not to notice. We made out all night. No sex, which was fine with me, because he also had a skinny dick. He was a really great kisser and really good at eating out and spanking me. We played with my toys and had a pretty good time. He was the type that I know is a bad boy, but not too bad.
It’s always the next morning when things come into focus. I hated the way Skinny Leg Guy dressed, like he was ghetto or something with the saggy shorts and tilted hat. Much too old to be acting that way. And it turned out he was a chain smoker – so bad that he’d stop in the middle of making out to smoke a fucking cigarette. I don’t like anyone at my house to be going in and out, because I live next door to my landlords, and I try to keep my business under wraps. I told him he’s not wearing his shorts and hat all ghetto if he steps outside my house. My rules. Haha!
I realized I had to drop him off somewhere, because Skinny Leg Guy had no transportation with him. (Come to find out, he doesn’t have ANY transportation!) So he hung around my place until like 2 in the afternoon when I said I had to be somewhere. In the meantime, he was driving me nuts going in and out of the house to smoke. I had a bottle of vodka on top of the refrigerator and he decided to take a shot or two. Mind you, this is at like 10 o’clock in the morning. Red flag! While he was outside smoking yet again, I took the opportunity to use the bathroom (he’d left the toilet seat up). He wasn’t out long, then came in and walked right through the bathroom while I was sitting on the toilet! I was like WTF! No respect for my privacy is not going to cut it with me, and I couldn’t wait to get him out! But before we left, I had to remind him to throw away his nasty ass cigarette butts he’d left on my porch. UGH.
Finally, I had to leave to go to my appointment. He had me drop him off at his cousin’s house, because it was closer than his mom’s. The place I took him to was a complete dumpy ass trailer park that was one of those really shady places with probably has at least one meth lab per block. He swore he didn’t live there, that his cousin did, so he must have been embarrassed by what a shithole it was. I dipped out of there as fast as I could, praying no one I know saw me, because anyone that knows me knows I wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like that.
But it didn’t end there with Skinny Leg Guy. Part 2 tomorrow…
I only saw Psycho Marine a few more times over a few weeks, mostly because of my busy work schedule and our living distance. He became extremely demanding and pissy when I wasn’t able to accommodate him by hanging out every time he’d asked or able to answer his texts immediately (red flag #4). I was seeing these signs but ignoring them, because I knew I wasn’t going to have an actual relationship with him outside of our sexual escapades. But his demands began to wear on me and eventually caused me to distance myself, and I began to find him unattractive.
I like all sorts of sexual positions, but I really enjoy being on top due to the ability to control the depth of the penis, clitoral stimulation, and motion of the ocean. Every time we switched positions and I got on top, Psycho Marine lost his hard on. Combined with his dysfunction, he’d said some things that made me realize he had huge mommy issues. One thing in particular was when he called his own mother a cunt. Red flag #5. He had nothing nice to say about her.
Psycho Marine thought it was a good idea to introduce me to his kid on the second date (red flag #6). Waaayyyyy too early for that! I thought it was terrible parenting.
Over a course of only three weeks and maybe a handful of times hanging out, Psycho Marine became psycho. He didn’t seem to care one bit when I wasn’t feeling well, didn’t even thank me for bringing him homemade soup when he was sick (red flag #7). Psycho Marine rarely smiled and always complained about and blamed everyone else for his failures in life (red flag #8). He didn’t keep jobs for long, and of course that was always someone else’s fault.
Again with his demands and his inability to understand that I was technically not yet a single woman, he needed much more attention than I was able to grant him. His text messages resorted to very childish behavior when I was too exhausted after work to make the 30 min drive to his house, responding with things like “whatever” and other selfish behaviors like deleting me as a Facebook friend when he wouldn’t get his way (red flag #9).
Red flag #10 took some time to realize, because we’d only seen each other a few times. I noticed that we only communicated thru Facebook messenger; I didn’t even have his phone number. I started to take notice that Psycho Marine never seemed to have time for me on weekends, which I considered odd. One of the last times I visited his house was when he confessed he was hanging out with one of his ex-lovers “just as friends” by taking her to a basketball game… on a weekend. I called bullshit on the “just as friends” part.
The very last straw was when Psycho Marine and I were texting and he was demanding a nudie pic. I told him to send one to me first. He wouldn’t. I suggested seeing each other that evening. He made the excuse he was driving to visit his male friend in another city two hours away. I knew it was a bold faced lie, because it was 10 o’clock or so in the evening and what man is going to drive two hours at that time of night to see another man? It was bullshit. I had suspected he’d been seeing someone else behind my back. It was my last message to him, but I basically told him to fuck off, then I blocked HIM before he could do it to me.
Just as I’d suspected, he’d been on Plenty of Fish searching for his next victim. I decided to make up a fake profile just to fuck with him. After the first message, he demanded that I meet with him (he had no idea it was me) and made some other unreasonable demands before I got bored with fucking around and deleted my fake profile.
A few months later, I spied on his Facebook page to see he’d found himself a new relationship. I felt bad for the new woman, because I cannot imagine the crap he put her through. A few more months later, they got married (his third) and only a few months after that a new baby arrived. All I can say is: better her than me!
After a breakup, there’s a lot of sexual tension built up – especially when you end up with someone that has a high sex drive. Shortly after my separation, I created a Facebook profile and began adding people that I hadn’t seen in years. One in particular was a guy that I hadn’t seen since my early 20s, because he’d gone into the Marines and we’d lost touch. He was eager to meet up again, but it was too soon for me emotionally to want to meet up with anyone. Besides, I was still technically married and living under the same roof as my ex. Too many complications for me to indulge in something new, but he was very persistent and didn’t seem to respect my need for space at that time in my life (red flag #1).
I blew him off until a few months later when I saw an article I thought he’d enjoy and messaged it to him. He’d deleted me as his Facebook friend! (Red flag #2.) He thanked me for the article and began asking me out again. I was hesitant, but for whatever reason, there was something about him that I was attracted to. I think there was sexual chemistry even over the internet. By that point, I was ready to “meet for a drink” at a local pub. He looked great (we’re the same age) and the chemistry in person was definitely there.
We decided to go back to his place. When he opened the door, I was taken aback by the odor of stinky dog. He had two dogs he kept caged up (red flag #3) and apparently didn’t spend much time training them. Still, the sexual chemistry was so intense, and that was my reason for being there.
After only a few drinks, he grabbed me and kissed me very passionately. I could feel myself melt and my panties getting soaked. We moved from his patio to inside his house, basically ripping each other’s clothes off and strewing them about the floor. It had been about 20 years, but I remembered now why was attracted to him – he had a huge cock and knew how to use it. We ended up in his guest bedroom fucking so hard the king-sized mattress ended up halfway off the bed, my head almost hitting the floor as he pounded me. He kept mentioning how wet I was and realized the mattress was soaked. I don’t think I’d ever been that wet during a sexual encounter in my entire life.
Mind you, I hadn’t had very much sex during my relationship and had only hooked up a couple of times since separating (nothing too memorable at that point, which is why I’m calling him my first fuck). It was the BEST sex I’d had in years. Even thinking about it now gets me hot and bothered.
But there were other things about this Marine that had red flags written all over. I ended up nicknaming him Psycho Marine to my friends. I will write more about him later…
Ever since I started camming, I noticed many of the same questions frequently being asked. I figured it’s time to put some of these questions to rest, because I tend to get bored repeating myself. So here’s a little more about me:
What size are you?
Does size matter? 😉 5’4”, about 115 pounds. Size 5 in shorts/pants/dresses and panties… or small/medium depending on the make. Size 8 shoe. 32DDD or 34DD bra.
How old are you?
Let’s just leave it at this – I’m over 30. Around 40-ish.
What are your favorite things to wear?
I would say #1 would be my birthday suit. 😉 I like really soft clothing, anything silky or soft cotton against my body. When I go out, I like wearing sexy dresses and high heels.
Do you like younger men?
Of course! I don’t call myself a cougar for nothing. Most of the men I date are 5-15 years younger.
Physically, I really like nice eyes and smiles. Nice butts – because I like to have something to grab onto while I’m fucking. Cleanliness – clean fingernails is a must, because if you’re planning to put your fingers somewhere, you’re damn right they’re going to be spotless. Chemistry has a lot to do with being turned on, so that’s an obvious one. Scent is VERY important to me, so good oral hygiene is a must. Some colognes turn me into a wild beast while others make me want to vomit. In the bedroom, someone that knows what they are doing, allows me to be aggressive and returns the favor.
Mentally, I find that someone that can hold a conversation, is well-spoken, thoughtful, empathetic, well-mannered, confident, has many interests, and can stimulate my mind is a huge turn-on. Intelligent, but not boring. Down-to-earth, trustworthy, respectful, humorous, communicative.
What are your turn-offs?
Arrogance. Jealousy. Insecurity. Rudeness. Bigotry. Racism. Selfishness. Bad breath or body odor. Anyone trying to dominate me or tell me how I should feel or act. Fakes. Big babies. Anyone that doesn’t appreciate me or my need for space. Neediness.
Like a lot of women, I like it on top. It’s easier for us to control the depth of the penetration and the motion of the ocean. 😉
Do you like anal?
I’ve never tried it, but I’m pretty certain a dick isn’t going to fit in there without doing some damage. A fingertip is good in the heat of the moment. Other than that, it’s not my thing.
Do you have another job?
Yes. It’s a high security job, so I can’t give out anymore info. So I will just leave it at that.
Are you single? Do you have kids?
Yes, I’m single and loving it. Yes, I have kids, but I’m not going to discuss that here.
Do you work out?
I hate gyms and group settings, so I work out at home doing yoga or dancing. I’m also very involved in outdoor activities, such as biking.
Where do you live?
For obvious reasons, I’m not going to announce that. But I will just say I live in the United States.
I’d had something of his that belonged to my College Boyfriend as a child, and I’d kept it the entire time. Cleaning out some things, I decided to look him up, and eventually, I found him on Facebook. It was interesting to catch up, and I was surprised at the fact that he was married and how many kids he had, considering he was such a free-spirited, anti-kid type of guy when I dated him.
College BF and I communicated via Facebook and eventually through Kik. He was coming to my area and wanted to meet up. I knew he was married, but I didn’t think twice that anything would happen between us. I was beyond that and honestly was looking at him like an old friend. Besides, he’d changed physically, and I was no longer attracted to him; my tastes have changed. I invited him to my place, we had some drinks and caught up from the last 15 years of our lives.
When we dated, he was not a very sexual person compared to me. Our sex life was vanilla in comparison to what I’m used to having now. I was always the one to make the first move, even from the very first time we hooked up in college. I had no intention of making any moves with him during this visit, and he didn’t try anything either, although I would never have expected him to.
When he left, he sent me a text asking if I had expected to take things further with him. I told him that I had not. I was a bit put off by him asking me, because I felt zero chemistry with him during our visit, even after having had several drinks. And it surprised me that he “might” be a cheater. Boy, am I glad we didn’t end up together! Eventually, I deleted my Kik account, and we stopped communicating via Facebook. It’s been about two years since then, and I haven’t heard from him again.
I believe he was seeking an affair, but I am not about that. I do not want to be the “other woman”. After having guiltily done that once, I would never do it again. More to come about that later…
After I’d stopped seeing Blue Eyes, I was out dancing with my friends one night and bumped into a really cute dark haired, tanned and toned-bodied guy with beautiful blue-green eyes that appeared to be in his late 20s or so. It turned out he was going to school with the intentions of becoming a doctor, which was a plus, because I am highly attracted to intelligent men. We exchanged numbers and began a texting relationship for a few weeks. As it turns out, he was only 23. Yikes! He stated he had no problem with older women.
I wasn’t a big texter at the time, so it was a little annoying for me to have an entire conversation that didn’t consist of actually speaking. We sent some photos back and forth to each other (innocent) at first and then came the dick pics. It was difficult to tell by the angles if it was an accurate depiction of his manhood. I’m a very detail-oriented person, so I notice EVERYTHING, and I could tell he was a nail biter. Yuck.
Med Student begged me to come to his place a few times, but I was hesitant. Finally, we agreed to meet somewhere and hang out for a little bit before I gave in. He was renting a really nice house in an area I couldn’t have afforded on my own. He had a roommate that was sleeping when we arrived, which I was glad, because I hate those awkward situations when it’s only a hookup. His bedroom was a frigging mess with clothing strewn all over the place, bed unmade, poor lighting, bare walls. I had to remind myself of his age, because when I was his age, guys then lived in about the same circumstances.
We’d both been drinking, which took the edge off, but in no time we started kissing, and I was impressed. I absolutely LOVE kissing, and I find it a HUGE turn-on. His lips were nicely shaped, soft, and inviting, so it didn’t take long for us both to get hot and horny. He just about tore my dress off to get to me. I was surprised not only at how well-endowed he was but at his bedroom moves. I went down on him, sucking the head of his dick like a Tootsie Pop, teasing him just enough to make him want to enter me. I was soaking wet and ready to roll. He thrust himself inside of me, fitting perfectly, sliding in and out, my clit rubbing against his shaft just right. We flipped over, me sitting up and riding him, scooting back and forth for more clitoral stimulation. I could tell he was probably close to coming, as was I, so I stuck my tits in his face, brought my legs together and squeezed my pelvic muscles tighter. I always like to kiss while I’m fucking, because it makes me cum harder and faster, so I grabbed his bottom lip with my teeth and locked lips. Within seconds, we both came at the same time. (I always think that’s hot!)
I spent the night, and in the morning we had a quickie before he had to drop me back to my car. It wasn’t the last time I’d be seeing Med Student. 😉
These are two questions I am asked quite frequently, so here it is…
I will begin with the latter, because it’s such a fun and hot-ass story to recall. A few years ago while I was going thru my breakup b.s., I was going out a lot. (Basically, sowing my wild oats, so to speak.) Once I realized that younger men were attracted to me, all I wanted were younger men and had no interest in any my own age at the time. Of course, going out frequently means you’re going to run into a lot of 20-somethings, since that’s usually what is single and also sowing their wild oats.
Anyway, some of my other single girlfriends were also going through the same ordeal as me, so we decided to take a trip to Florida to get the hell away from our problems for a week. One night we decided to watch a band, and even though I “thought” I had gotten over band guys while in my 20s, this one was amazingly talented, cute, and happened to flirt with me. Guitar Guy and I talked a few times, were both fully attracted to each other and learned we were both Leo’s (and we knew what that meant). He had blue eyes and an amazingly hard physique that I wasn’t used to having in front of me. So we decided to take a ride in his SUV once his band packed up for the night, and before we even left the parking space, we couldn’t stop making out in the front seat. It was getting late, and the area was well lit with cops circling everywhere, and we knew we had to leave. However, we couldn’t go back to either of our places, because we both were staying a distance and had early morning plans. Instead, we parked on a dirt road near some houses by the beach. Neither of us knew where we were.
It started out in the front seat with some hot-ass passionate kisses… the type that makes you want to keep going, keep tasting them and feeling their soul and becoming one…. Guitar Guy had shoulder-length hair that made me hotter when I ran my hands through and pulling it, pulling him closer to me, biting his lip and tasting the salt on his neck. I wanted him inside me now. (His dick was much bigger than I’d suspected, so it was no disappointment at all; in fact, quite a nice hard surprise. 😉 )
Guitar Guy suggested moving to the backseat, which had more space but papers and crap all over the back. Neither of us cared at that point anyway. But the pause made us both started asking each other questions in no particular order…. Are you safe? Yes. Do you have a condom? No, do you? No. (More conversation about that went by.) By then we were both naked and still all over each other and didn’t want to stop. Can you get pregnant? No. How old are you? 21. Ohmygod, he’s a baby! How old are you? Old enough to… nevermind!
But that didn’t stop us at all, because I was straddled on top of him, windows up, motor off as to not attract any passersby or cops. The windows were steamed up so much we couldn’t see out of them. It was a HOT summer night on top of it. I rode him up and down, both of us sweating so much we were sliding all over each other. I came so hard my entire body was pulsating. He started to cum, pulled out, and we both were drenched in all of our bodily fluids, even in our hair. It was one of the most amazing, memorable sexual experiences I’ve had in my life. I would totally do it again, of course!
As of the first question, the only answer I will give about my age is this – I am over 30 and 40-ish. No need to give away all my secrets, right?