A run in with a lover

I went out with some of my daughter’s dad’s family for dinner at a bar and pool hall place, and on my way out, ran into Lee. Quick update: He had ended up texting me, and then a few nights later I found a sexy outfit and sent him a photo. After about three weeks of no contact, I’d done a lot of thinking. I came to the conclusion, I am not ready for a relationship. I want sex. I let my friends opinions get to me and make me unhappy.

Anyway. After we left, her aunt offered to keep my baby so I could go back out and I accepted. I didn’t say hi when I went back though, I walked right past him. He came up to me, and invited me to play pool with him and his friends. I didn’t say no, but I didn’t ever go over either. I went out to hang out my daughter’s dad’s family, and I wasn’t going to just ditch them the second I got there.

As the night got later, he disappeared, and I thought he left. I waited about 10 minutes before shooting a text and asking if he left. He said no, and he’s not leaving without me. That was hot. Except then he came over a little later, and goes “you ready?” when I was talking to someone. He wasn’t rude to him, but he definitely wasn’t very friendly. I thought maybe he was jealous…Who knows.

We go to his house, and he jumps in the shower. I climb in bed, and throw my clothes on the floor. He gets in bed, plays a movie. I get up to get a drink, and he sees then I’m naked. He approved. And then the fun happened. He didn’t tie me up, unfortunately, but I did carry bruises on my ass the next day.

And that’s that. I didn’t regret it. Until the other day. I texted maybe three times since (once because it was his birthday), and he responds but he hasn’t texted first. I’m back to no texting him. I am okay with sex. But I’m not okay with being ignored. Like…use me if you will, because I was using you too, but at least send me a damn text so I don’t feel so low.

Ugh. Games. I hate them. I also don’t know how to play them very well.

Needless to say, I got on Fetlife. I am not done exploring, and while I trust him, and wish I could explore with him, I’m not sitting on the sidelines. I went to a social gathering at a bar of other fetlife members. And goodness, it was great. I’ve never been so readily welcomed into a group before. I had been talking to someone from fetlife who walked in with me, but after I got vetted for the play space in my area, I couldn’t find him right away so I went in and a group welcomed me over to join them. It was fun. I hope to go again.

And I definitely want to go to the dungeon.

Third One Night Stand

I’ve actually mentioned it before.

My third one night stand was with the guy who had a fat dick and called me a virgin.

It was March, 2013, only a few long months since John Doe left me (why does everything go back to him? Fuck.). I was at the bar I was going to every weekend- and that makes me realize all three guys I hooked up with were from meeting them at that bar. And to think I still go there… Thankfully, only one randomly still goes.

Anyways. I was sitting at the bar, drinking whatever it was I drank back then, and he kept making eye contact with me. When he left, he slid me his name and number, and I was drunk-ish, and when the bar closed I really didn’t feel like going home. So against my better judgment, I texted him. And went over.

He met me outside, and I must have been drunker than I realized because I legit do not remember where the fuck I went. We go inside, and sit awkwardly on the couch, just kinda talking. And that’s when I knew it was mistake.

I wasn’t drunk enough. At all.

His voice was annoying, he laughed way too much for a guy (I guess that sounds rude, but for real, he laughed at everything! If I said it, he laughed, if he said it, he laughed.). He took off his hat and he was just…ugly.

I went ahead and went with the kissing.

Again, I wasn’t nearly drunk enough.

His kisses were wet, slobbery. He was eating my face.

Somehow I still stayed. I let myself be taken to the bedroom. He pushed me down, and pushed my legs up, and he went down on me. And okay, I won’t lie. He was fucking awesome. The best oral sex I’ve ever had. Granted, my experience with it from John Doe left me feeling pretty amazing too, but I was so damn shy that it left me feeling awkward, too, and I didn’t enjoy it as much as I could have.

And then besides my boyfriend now, I haven’t had much experience with a guy going down on me.

After I got off, he asked if I’d suck his dick. I declined. I felt like maybe I shouldn’t, but on the other hand, I so didn’t want to be pressured either, and do what I didn’t want. Last time I sucked a random guy’s penis, I felt horrible. I felt like such the slut. I made a promise to myself I wouldn’t do that again, and so I refused even when he begged.

I then told him he needed a condom. He all pretended he knew that, and was going to use one. But even as he put it on, he’s complaining about how it doesn’t feel as good, and he won’t get off, blah blah.

Then he went in, and his dick was just so fat. So short. It hurt, and he saw me flinch, so he’s like “omg, you’re a virgin!”

That pissed me off, although I’m not sure why. “No, I’m not.”

That’s when he started laughing, all proud of his fat, stubby penis. “I guess the past guy must have been really small.”

Excuse me? The past “guy”? I had been with more than one (again, not sure why I cared…), and secondly, I had loved John’s penis. It was perfect.

I was done. I got up, and started dressing. He asked if I’d wanna do it again, and I’m just like, yeah…I don’t think so.

For months, he’d keep texting me, asking me to hook up. I told him I had a boyfriend (I met him a month later). He still asked. He’d see me at bars, and just fucking stare.

Finally, he’s stopped. And I haven’t seen him in awhile. But damn.

One Night Stand

I still feel (slightly) ashamed.

Not really because I had a one night stand, but because of my reason why. Due to my upbringing, I feel like I should be ashamed of my one night stand, but I’m not. Maybe because I’ve accepted the fact that a broken heart and alcohol equals bad decisions.

It had been about three months since the last actual conversation (albeit through texting) with John Doe, and I was trying to finally accept the facts: he was totally done with me; he had a new girlfriend- someone so important and special and better than me that he quit cheating and even made it Facebook official. I felt like shit. I felt used. I hated myself.

I turned to bars and alcohol. I needed to be reassured I was still desire-worthy. I never meant to hook up with anyone.

And then, I met him. Not my one night stand guy, but someone else. He was casually seeing this girl, so we never did anything more than drunken flirt. He reminded me so much of John Doe. But no matter how hard I tried, he just didn’t want me either.

He knew a guy, who I had known of since I was about twelve. Sure, he was plenty attractive, but a major douche bag. And abusive. He almost beat a guy to death (no, it wasn’t self defense- the guy had already been knocked unconscious and still he beat him), and got off scot-free. His ex girlfriend had been hospitalized and they broke up right after. It was rumored he beat her.

Anyhow. I, being me and always looking for the good in people, figured he was older and not abusive anymore. So I go home with him- let’s call him DB (Douchebag) and his John Doe look like alike and their friends.

He gets pissed. I try and calm him down. Finally he leaves, and I go home with him. And we really did start out watching a movie. Then I don’t know what happens, just that we’re having sex and it felt great.

His body, his kisses, the way he fucked me- it all reminded me of John Doe. And in the dark, I could fantasize that it was him.

I told my best friend that later. She lectured. I defended.

I mean, if I was dating him because of the similarities, yeah, that’d be wrong. But how was I to know that having sex with him would remind me of John Doe?

And it was just sex. I meant nothing to him, he meant nothing to me. So we hooked up twice more, and then we were done. Yes, the second two times it was just because of who he reminded me of during sex. But he never knew, and I was just a sex toy anyway. We both used each other and got what we wanted. The end.

I don’t exactly encourage somebody to go fuck someone who reminds them of an ex, because it didn’t help me get over him any faster. It only made me want him back more.

And that’s why I sorta regret my first one night stand. Otherwise, every girl has at least one, right?

My Second One Night Stand

Unfortunately, I’ve had three.

Or two and a half if you’d like. But for now, let’s just discuss the second one.

His name- well, we’ll just him Geoff (because it’s close to Get Off). We met at the bar. I was drinking too much, just having a good time. And trying to forget shit. Honestly, I don’t even remember how I ended up going home with him.

Next thing I know, I’m walking outside the bar with him, then I’m walking into a house…suddenly, he’s carrying me to the couch, my legs wrapped around his waist, and then I’m sitting in his lap. Being kissed frantically. I’d say passionately, but it was definitely more frantic than passionate.

My shirt was off…I don’t remember what happened next, just that he mentioned a condom, then got up. I laid down, ready to pass out, thinking “why the fuck does he need a condom?” Because apparently, even in my drunken stupor, I was still naïve enough to think sex wasn’t going to happen.

He puts it on, and pushes my legs apart and up. I don’t recall his size, bit it hurt when he entered me. I whimpered a little, so he stopped and asks for a blow job.

I’ve always been told if a girl sucks a random guy’s dick, she’s a slut. But c’mon, this was my second one-night stand, wasn’t I already a slut? I felt like one. I went from innocent virgin, to heartbroken and shattered. And once you have sex with someone you fell in love with, having sex with someone else is like a fight to tell yourself you didn’t really love them.

Or it could be that I was dealing with issues of being “raped”, and promiscuity is a way a lot of people to deal with it. I was told I needed therapy or something, by a doctor but I told her I was fine.

Anyway. Whatever the reason and whatever it makes me, I agreed to suck his dick. Not even five minutes into it, I was literally passing out and all I could think about was how I so did NOT want to be sucking this guy’s penis, and that I just wanted to sleep because I was so fucking tired.

So I looked up at him, and asked, “Can I please just go to sleep now?”

And I don’t remember anything else. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in bed, feeling like shit, and needing to vomit. I rushed to the bathroom.

I get back in bed, he wakes up, and fucks me. Just as I began to even get into it, he cums. I think he pulled out, I don’t know. I was still half drunk.

Needless to say, I was pissed. Like, really dude? You just shove your penis into me before getting me anywhere near the mood, then get off in five fucking minutes?

We never talked again.

I officially felt like a whore. An unpaid whore.