Word of the Day: Frisson

I was just thinking today about why I’m so sure this is the man for me. I don’t really believe that there’s only one person for each of us. That’s a very narrow view, especially if you lose your partner or spouse to death. There might be one for some, but I can’t say for sure that’s for me. What I do know is that I am sure this is the man I want to marry, the man I want to have children with, and the man I want to grow old with. I will be a very lucky woman if I get all 3 of those, but I would settle for the last two. Bryce is more that I had hoped for and is giving me an amazing life full of love and the future. Sure, he’s annoying as fuck sometimes. I probably (definitely) am too, but he would never say that. He never says anything bad about me. And when I say I’m annoying, it’s more like I’m a miserable bitch. But I’m also quite logical and reasonable so I know when I’m doing it and try to check myself. He tries to make me happy again.

We’ve had conversations about marriage. I told him early on that although it’s not a deal-breaker for me, I would prefer to get married. In recent years, I’ve been on the fence about marriage. If I met someone who wanted to, definitely. If I met someone who didn’t want to, that was ok too. But then I met Bryce and I know I want to marry him. I have told him that if he doesn’t want to, or doesn’t want to right away, I need to know that so I can stop pinning things on Pinterest, stop following Instagram hashtags about wedding dresses, and generally stop daydreaming about what it would be like and laughing at the images of all my friends ugly-crying. So far he hasn’t said no for sure, but I still don’t have a ring.

One night we were making jokes about when we have kids. He’s been talking about us having kids since before we said I love you. The next day I was talking to a friend about it and how I would like to get married first, before we have kids. Not for any traditional reason. Mine was purely selfish. I wanted more time together without kids, and I wanted to have a wedding that was all about me, one where I didn’t have to worry about who was looking after the kid/s, what they were doing, who was watching them while we honeymooned, etc. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how old the eggs are getting. I am currently 37. I don’t want a quickie wedding, I want to plan one and have all my friends and family there. So by the time we get engaged, plan the wedding, have the wedding, I would be going on 39 before we even think of starting our family. And I’ve never had a pregnancy scare, who knows if I can even have kids, right? So then I’m 38/39 trying to have a baby, and if that doesn’t work, fertility treatments, adoption, etc. Both of which can be time-consuming and expensive.

That night I went home and said, Should we be serious about trying to start a family right now? He said Yep. Twist his rubber arm, right? This was sometime in mid to late March. I went off birth control right away and downloaded an app to track my period and ovulation. I was on a medication for my rheumatoid arthritis that is known to cause birth defects so I made an appointment to speak with my rheumatologist about it. I also made an appointment with my family doctor to get his advice. I had to take a double dose of medication used to treat high cholesterol for a week or so to flush the arthritis drug out of my body. It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t as bad as it is for some people. Once that was done, then I had to get a blood test. The results in this can take some time as the blood has to be sent to the provincial lab to analyze. Once that was finished, my rheumatologist called to give me the go-ahead. In the meantime, I spoke with my family doctor, and he was soo excited at the prospect of me trying to have a baby! He told me to try for 6 months because of my age, and if I wasn’t pregnant by then, to come back and he would refer me to an obgyn to look at our options.

So, my period came in March as expected, and again in April. But it didn’t show up in May. I took a pregnancy test. I took 3 pregnancy tests in the days after my missed period. All negative. My period used to be very irregular when I was younger, and I had just gone off birth control. I wasn’t too worried yet and figured I would give it some time. But then I realized I missed my period in June too. So I took a test. I took 5 tests. They were all positive!!!!! Guys, I’m Pregnant! Holy shit.


One of my friends asked me at some point why I liked/loved him. He is sweet, kind, thoughtful, responsible, funny, hard-working, loves animals, easy-going, family-oriented, and the list goes on. He is a man who struggles with romance and with saying the “right” things. But when I told him that I need to hear him give me compliments and that he has to say “I love you” first sometimes, he started doing it. He was folding laundry while I was having a shower and brought me a fresh, warm towel. When he found out that I like the little crispie cheezies, he stood in the chip aisle in the grocery store examining the bags and bought the ones with the most small cheezies. He asked what my favourite food was and at the time I said I really liked steak so he bought a giant slab of beef from Costco and cut up a million steaks. If we are having a meal and there are crispy bits on anything on his plate, he’ll share them with me. If my dog has an upset stomach while no one is home, he will clean it up. My car was making a noise so he came into the city right after work and spent the entire evening running around the city for parts and fixing it. He will make time to do anything I want, and encourages me to spend time with my friends and even invite them to his house. Well, OUR house now.

Partway into November, he asked me to move in with him. It went something like this:

B: So, what would you think about moving to Chamberlain?

A: *Short silence* Do you think we’re ready for that?

B: Well, I want you to know that I am, so whenever you feel ready….

A: Ok, I’m ready.

I gave notice on my apartment right away and gradually started moving my things out to Chamberlain. My dog Walter started living out there fulltime while I was still in the city for the rest of November and part of December. Up until this point, Bryce had been talking about turning one of the rooms in the basement into a spare bedroom that we could use in the summer when it was hot. To save on the air conditioning. But once I agreed to move in, he suggested he clean it out and turn it into an art room for me so I could have somewhere to paint. *swoon* I was all moved in by the time Christmas came and no longer driving my car. Once I started moving my things, he gave me his truck to drive and he drove his old backup. It was to save me paying for fuel and be safer in the winter. However, he didn’t get the winter tires on in time and while I was going to work one morning over Christmas, the truck slid on the ice and smashed into a sign. I was ok, but there was some damage to the truck. The winter tires were put on right after this. And although he says he was getting tired of having to always have a truck in the shop for repairs every month or two, it’s a little coincidental that he finally got tired of this after I moved in and had an accident. And at the end of January had bought a new truck and gave it to me to drive while he still drove the old one. What a sweetheart.

The Man From Chamberlain Gets a Name (Part 4)

Whoa, it has been such a long time! I’ve been busy living my life and keeping a lot of it to myself, my family, and close friends. Since I met the man from Chamberlain, I’ve felt the desire to keep him private. It just felt too special to share every moment along the way. But now I am ready to share with my dear, neglected readers. When I returned from Cuba, our relationship continued to grow. The Man from Chamberlain is named Bryce and I am in love with him. It was near the end of May last year when I asked him if we should be exclusive. He had been so all along. Me, not as much lol But he allowed me to make that move because he is sensitive to big changes in my life. Once this was established, I invited him to a birthday party to meet some of my friends. He fit in very well. He had worked a 12 hour day, then drove an hour to get to the party, stayed a few hours, drove an hour home, and was up at 5am to work another 12 hour day because he wanted to meet the people in my life. When he was ready to go, I walked him to his truck and asked if he wanted a blowjob. His face lit up and he said “Yeah!” I said, “Ok, let’s go. But I have a party to get back to, so don’t be a hero about it.”

A day or so later he asked me to go with him to the farm and meet his parents. They are so lovely and were pretty excited to meet me. We went shooting and razring in the bush, typical redneck things haha Unfortunately, shortly after this, a close family friend passed away. Bryce was very supportive and came along to attend the funeral (and meet my parents). He was more nervous to meet mine than I was meeting his. But there was nothing to worry about, my parents immediately loved him. A couple of weeks later, we attended my youngest cousin’s high school graduation. Most of my mom’s large extended family was there. Bryce comes from a small family, and besides his parents and brother, they don’t really get together that often. This was a very new, very loud, experience for him. All my aunties hugged him, maybe even snuck a kiss 😉 Bryce had to work of course, but he was able to leave work early and meet us at the house for supper. We had been celebrating all day and I was rather tipsy when he arrived. And this thought had been creeping into my head for the past couple of weeks and I had to keep reminding myself not to say anything while I was drunk. And then I got drunk. So when we went to bed, I kept telling myself ‘don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it’. But I couldn’t help myself and said “I love you”. He replied back, “I love you too.” I asked him how long he’s felt that way and he says, “Awhile, but the man can’t say it first.” *eyeroll*

Now, because we were all staying at my aunt’s house, every available bed was taken. They had set us up in the basement next to a bedroom wall and had made some curtain walls for us. Well, partial walls. The one side was only about half covered. Luckily, I’m sure everyone else had gone to bed already, so no one would come strolling by. However, the “bed” they had us on was a rather uncomfortable futon. An uncomfortable, squeaky futon. An uncomfortable, squeaky futon that moved and got louder with motion. So, of course we had sex on it. Twice.

A couple of weeks later, my uncle texted me and invited us out to their cabin for a fish fry. He and Bryce really hit it off and I’m pretty sure my family likes him better than me now. Oh well, at least I still get invited too haha

Cuba Conundrum

So when I went to Cuba, I went with a girlfriend and her friend, plus her son and some of his friends. It was a great, super fun group of people. But, I had a lot weighing on my mind at the time so I was not the usual vacation Amy. The girls I was with, however, stepped off the plane and fired up their dick radar like their lives depended on it! If I’d been in a different state of mind, Cuba would have really been in trouble 😉

I mean, obviously I still made some boyfriends, duh. There was one bartender who was about 50 and was in love with me. He was so sweet. He would hook us up with beer even after the bar was closed and flat out deny anyone else who came along looking for some. He also liked to try to grab my ass every time he was within reaching distance. Maybe that wasn’t so sweet, but I didn’t mind.

We ended up at some clubs in town one night and I wasn’t really feeling it so I left and walked back to the hotel. A cab pulls up and asks if I need a ride. I say no thank you because I’m literally just across the street from our resort. The driver says ok, watches me cross the street and then pulls a u-turn to follow me. I don’t think he spoke much English, but I was also drunk so I probably had trouble understanding English anyways lol He was handsome and sweet talking me and I leaned into his car and kissed him. He tried to convince me to get in and go for a drive. I said no, he got out and slid his hands over my hips. He was really hot. I told him I was going to bed and he asked when he could see me again. I said something like, How about tomorrow night? Midnight. I had to say it a few times a few different ways because of the language barrier. He agreed and kissed me goodbye. I did not go to meet him the next night and he’s probably still pining after me to this day 😉

Now, why didn’t I go to meet him or hookup with anyone else? (There was also a cute 20 year old saying very inappropriate, dirty things about what he was going to do to me haha) I didn’t feel guilty, I wasn’t in a relationship. But I did feel like I was starting to really like this man from Chamberlain and there would need to be something really special to attract me enough to fuck anyone besides him at this point. I was in trouble.

The Man From Chamberlain, Part 3

On to date number 4! He invited me over for supper for our next date. I arrived about 630/7 in the evening. He works until 6 and it’s about an hour from my apartment in Regina to his house in Chamberlain. It was pretty easy to find. If you’ve ever driven past Chamberlain, you know how small it is, and you also know about the Twisted Sister’s.  Everyone knows where Twisted Sister’s is! They are a little roadside ice cream/burger shop, and the man from Chamberlain lives within spitting distance. (And in two years of living there, had never been there for ice cream! I know, crazy.)

He told me he’s not a very good cook, but he put together a pretty decent stirfry for us. I think we maybe watched a movie after supper, I don’t really remember. It was either a movie or some educational TV shows. He really enjoys Discovery, History, National Geographic, PBS…he likes comedies too, but when it comes to tv shows, he is most often watching something educational. I guess we probably won’t be watching any Real Housewives together.

I don’t know what his thought process was exactly, but he was obviously thinking/hoping that I was going to stay over. Especially since I didn’t start stretching and giving him the “time to hit the ol dusty trail” line. He looked at me and asked if I was ready for bed. Uh yeah, I was ready like 10 days before yesterday!

He’s a great kisser, I really enjoy his lips on mine. As far as the sex goes, I don’t have a super exciting story for you. He had gone a looooot longer without sex than I had. It was nice. That probably doesn’t sound like a good word to use when describing sex, but it was. It was nice. And spending the night together was nice too. He’s a cuddler, and I didn’t mind that about him at all. In the morning, his alarm went off around 5 and I got up at the same time. He said I could stay and sleep, but I had to get home to Walter, so I left at the same time.

Over the next few weeks, we managed to see each other once or twice a week. I liked him, but it felt like things were moving slower than they would have if we had regular schedules and lived in the same place. We texted every day though. And actually, the slow moving was fine by me. I’m kind of a slow mover when it comes to romantic relationships and I only do things when I’m ready to.

And then at the end of March, I went to Cuba for a week…

The Man From Chamberlain, Part 2

Ok you vultures, here’s part deux!

Our second date quickly followed the first. No real surprise since before we’d even gone on our first date and I told him about my upcoming trip to Cuba, he said maybe we could take a trip together sometime. I laughed and told him let’s wait and see how our first date goes before we run away together. Every time I saw him, he talked about things we could do in the future. I didn’t really think too hard about it, but definitely noticed how he brought it up with ease.

So for date number 2, we went to the movies. It’s worth mentioning that he paid for date one, and date 2 (you know how I like that). I don’t really like going to the movies, but when it’s a quiet night, I can get down with that. The theatre was pretty empty, but there was a woman who had brought her grandchildren and they were giving her just enough sass for us to be laughing at them. We went to see Jumanji 2 (Better than I expected and we laughed a lot). Oh, and it was in one of the theatres with the big chairs and foot rests, so I enjoyed that as well. I took my boots off and curled right up in that chair! After the movie we stopped at a pub near my place for a late supper where we flirted and got to know each other some more. He’s a small town, redneck, rig-pig, with a really big “old man” streak. And nothing about him was putting me off. Highly unusual. When he pulled up to my apartment, I thanked him for a great evening and asked if we can kiss good night this time. Obviously he said yes, and it was good. And then I went inside. Alone.

If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile, you know that waiting for sex isn’t exactly a strong suit of mine. I’m all about the casual. Except when I like/kinda like someone. Then I wait. It’s not even a conscious decision, it’s just a natural reaction. But my patience only goes so far.

For our third date, I invited him over for supper at my apartment. My plan was to give him ample opportunities to make a move. I was ready to give myself to him, mind AND body. Just kidding! I’m not that corny. I wanted to get fucked. But I also didn’t want to make the first move, so I left it up to him. There was just one medium-sized, black and white, furry cockblock  that I had to worry about. My dog, Walter. He immediately loooooved the man from Chamberlain and was all up on him. He was making way more moves than I was! Thankfully he’s a dog lover and has one of his own, so having Walter all over him did not faze him in the least. So, we had supper, watched a movie, cuddled the dog, and then he kissed me and went home. Without putting his P anywhere near my V. But, after getting to know him over the week and a half or so before this, it was not the surprising. He doesn’t have a lot of game, he’s a gentleman, and sex isn’t his main agenda. Add that to pros like, he’s younger than me, financially responsible, and owns real estate. My 36 year old self was getting turned on just thinking about all that stability. All I needed now was a glimpse at his retirement plan….

My Adoption Part 3

Since my last post about my adoption, I haven’t really done much. I did a bunch of online searching for a few days and then sort of stopped because I didn’t feel ready to pursue it more than I had at that time. I found some good leads on my birth mother and felt confident that when I was ready, I would be able to reach out and connect.

Her name isn’t a very common one, which is good. That makes it a bit easier to narrow down the search results. Unfortunately, I could not find her on any social media sites. But, after some googling, I found an obituary of her mother where she and all her siblings and their children were listed. And some of them are on facebook. And I did find a woman matching her name on LinkdIn living in BC. From what my adoption records indicated, my birth mother was taking some sort of cooking course at the time of her pregnancy with me, and this woman is linked to a restaurant and catering business. Sounds promising. But that’s about where I left it.

In the last few weeks, I decided to look into it some more and actually sent this woman a message, as well as a message to one of her sisters. I did not indicate in either message who I was, just that I was looking for a woman with this name. I told the sister I was an old friend. Neither have responded. So now I’m considering my next move.

And while I’ve been considering what I want to do next, I received a call from the post adoption registry with news of my birth father. Well, not exactly news. We haven’t found him yet. But the woman who was searching for me called me to fill me in on what she had found so far. She is a lovely woman and wanted to speak with me on the phone as a personal touch instead of just firing me off a generalized letter. She did some digging into the name that was listed on my birth record by my birth mother. She didn’t find anyone matching exactly the name given with the spelling, but did find some others with a slightly different spelling of the last name. The first man she contacted spoke to her on the phone and was very nice about it, wasn’t defensive about anything, just told her he wasn’t the one. He had been married since 1976 (5 years before I was born) and had never stepped out of his marriage and did not recognize the name of my birth mother. Completely believable given that the information my birth mother had provided was that my birth father was about 25 when they met. He said he had a nephew with a similar name, but he would have been too young. There was another man she found who lived in New York, but none of his information matched. Another she found had died before I was conceived. Every path she went down hit a dead end. After a search has been conducted and no matches found, or the birth parent is found to be deceased, the name can be released. So yesterday I received a letter in the mail giving me his name. The first place I looked was Facebook, and a man in Saskatchewan with a slightly different spelling than the one listed was the first to pop up. I don’t think he’s the same one that was already reached out to, so I might send him a message. I studied his pictures to see if I recognize any of myself in him, but nothing obvious stands out.

So, at this moment, I’m deciding what my next moves are going to be on both birth parents. I feel a lot of anxiety over this. Both about finding them, and about not finding them. If I never connect with either of them, that would be easiest. Because if I do, there are so many possible outcomes, both good and bad. I prefer optimism, so I’m going to keep searching and roll the dice with their reactions.

The Man From Chamberlain, Part 1

So I’ve been trying this new dating app called Bumble. It’s like Tinder, except when you match with someone, only the woman can message first and she only has 24 hours to do so and then the man has another 24 hours to respond. If the message is not sent or responded to, the match expires. My initial foray into Bumbling was pretty similar to every other dating app and didn’t seem that promising for finding anything or anyone special. Until I matched with the man from Chamberlain. He seemed pretty nice and normal and didn’t say anything gross or inappropriate to me, so I gave him my number. Our initial conversation happened on a weekend while I was on a little road trip with a friend to a small town to visit some other friends. Chamberlain seemed even better after my friend drunkenly swiped right and matched with all the local Tinder users. On my Tinder. One of them (an unattractive man in his 50s) even tracked me down on facebook after I didn’t respond to his messages and tried to engage me there. I engaged in blocking him.

Anyways, Chamberlain and I set up a date for the next night. But, after you throw up in a sink and then have to pull over on the side of the highway to puke up honeydew and water because your body is still mad at you for filling it with vodka, tequila, and special candies, plans change. I chose to lay perfectly still for hours and hours instead of going on a date. It was the right choice. But the night after, that night was a go.

He took me to Red Lobster because he was watching tv and it was lobster days or something. It had been awhile since I’d gone on a proper date, so it was pretty nice to have someone come and pick me up and take me out for supper. We had pretty good conversation, he made me laugh and asked me lots of questions. His truck doesn’t have command start and takes a long time to warm up. It was February and pretty cold outside. It wasn’t exactly environmentally friendly, but he left it running the entire time we were inside so that I wouldn’t be cold when we left. He drove me home and was already talking about things we could do on our next date and future dates. I think my responses were something like, mmhmm, yeah sure, sounds good. There was no kiss on the first date, but there was something about him, and so I did agree to see him again.

The Ontario Hammer

This is a story I never got around to telling you from sometime last year. It was the same time as this guy. The same week actually. I had matched with this cutie on Tinder and we went back and forth casually and then one day he was gone. Whatever, it happens. But a few days later, I received a facebook messenger request from an unfamiliar name. I take a look and it’s Tinder boy. “So you stalked me all the way to fb, hey?” “haha Yep”.

This is an instance where stalking/tracking someone down on social media is acceptable. Because we had several conversations and I had expressed interest and hadn’t unmatched him, I didn’t find it out of line for him to find me there. He told me he had recently broken up with his girlfriend and her friends had told her about his profile and drama ensued. So he deleted it altogether. Has someone ever tracked you down on social media after you rejected them on another platform? Last month one of my friend’s was drunk swiping my Tinder so I ended up with some…let’s call them interesting…matches. One older man messaged me. I think I responded with a drunk hello and that was it. He continued to message me the next day, even with no other responses. And the day after. When I still didn’t respond, he decided to track me down on FB and send me some messages there. Even after I didn’t accept his message request, the messages just kept coming. I ended up blocking him.

So back to my original story. He was young, 24 or 25, a PLT, and worked on a contract crew doing work for the company I work for. Obviously the first thing to come to my mind was that we should have a pole climbing competition 😉 We chatted on messenger a few times, and each time he tried to charm his way over to my apartment. The only reason I didn’t give in right away was my schedule. I wasn’t really playing hard to get.

The night that I did let him come over, I realized as he was on his way that I hadn’t even properly creeped his FB profile! Fucking amateur hour over here! We had two mutual friends. Another PLT and one of my girlfriends. Obviously I messaged her to find out how she knew him exactly. It turns out she met him a few years ago on a night that we were out together. It’s possible I even met him that night. I know my friends pretty well, and I would have been surprised if she hadn’t slept with him. You can go ahead and assume I wasn’t surprised after talking to her. It didn’t bother me #eskimosisters. Plus, he was already on his way. What was I supposed to do? NOT have sex?

This guy was fun to fuck. He was way into giving and receiving ALL the rim jobs. At first he asked me to put a finger in, but I have long gel nails, and, well, it wouldn’t be a good situation for anyone to have those poking around. And they’re already such a bitch to clean underneath without worrying about doing it after my finger has been in someone’s asshole. Maybe I’ll do it sometime though, just in the hopes that I’ll lose a nail…

As I said, he was also generous with his own mouth and I enjoyed his thoroughness. And once we started fucking…holy jesus. Kid could hammer! If I’d been up against the wall, I would have been through the wall. I think he moved back to Ontario shortly after we hooked up for a job offer. I hope he’s putting that hammer to good use and rupturing all the eastern cervixes.

The Meathead

Hello and Happy New Year!

The last 6 months or so of 2017 were a little slow for me, sexually speaking. I just wasn’t speaking to or meeting anyone that I wanted to connect with on any level. I had deleted all my dating apps and most of the “black book” numbers in my phone. I’ll write more on what was going on in my life during the last half of the year later. And no, I didn’t spend it masturbating. Well, not ALL of it anyways.

Towards the end of the year, I joined Pof, Bumble, and Tinder. I decided it was time to start exploring again, and right before the new year, there were a couple of men who peaked my interest. I have met one so far and he is the subject of this post. The Meathead.

He messaged me on Pof asking if I was looking for discreet fun. For anyone who doesn’t know, “discreet fun” is code for married. Of course I played dumb though and asked why it would need to be discreet. He was up front about it and told me about his relationship and how it’s missing something. I’ll give you a second to try and guess what that was.

Men in relationships aren’t something I look for, but as far as casual sex goes, it’s relatively simple (And it had been about 6 months since I’d had sex). You know it’s not going anywhere which makes it easy to keep things casual and just enjoy the sex. Hopefully. He obviously did not have a picture on his profile so I gave him my number to send me one and told him I couldn’t really say if I was interested or not when I didn’t even know if I found him attractive. He sent one and he’s definitely not someone I would normally go for. Total meathead, all neck, all shoulders, basically a bull in man form, and all his pictures were gym selfies. But he was cute in a steroid-y kind of way.

When I asked what exactly was missing from his sex life, he said passion. The more we talked, the more I became convinced what he meant by “passion” was actually intimacy. He wasn’t looking for a bunch of partners, he just wanted one that he could have a physical relationship with. He told me how he loved to kiss and go down. He loved to please. Several times he told me how he loves eating pussy and how much I was going to like it and I’d never want him to leave and I’d want him to be mine. Ok, great. Sounds like it could be fun as long as he doesn’t show up and try to make love to me. Buuut…I had a small fear that’s exactly what he was going to do.

I set up a dickpointment for one morning this past week and he came over before work. He was better looking in person, he had a purty mouth. Now, body hair doesn’t bother me too much, I enjoy a little hair on my men. But this was not a little hair. His winter coat had come in nicely and was actually more of a snowsuit. Sort of how I imagine a bear’s coat comes in just before winter hibernation. But, he was in my apartment now so might as well see what he’s got for skills.

Let’s start with the kissing. It was nice, but…short? For a man who claimed he wanted passion, all of his kisses were soft and kind of delicate and only for a couple of seconds. I soon realized this was because he is a hardcore mouth breather and if his mouth was on mine for too long, he probably would have just passed out. And then I’d be laying there with a winterized bear on top of me.

He skipped over most of my body, including my breasts. Weird, because I have a pretty sweet rack. But, just a quick hello and it was down to the honey pot. I’m going to guess my high moisture levels had more to do with the recent drought and less to do with his skills. Men, read this carefully. Do not claim to love eating pussy and then spend 3 minutes or less doing it before asking if she’s going to cum. If she hasn’t verbally told you it’s happening or she has stopped moved and appeared to have passed out from pleasure, keep going. (He did this a couple of times, so he WAS trying.) But if this isn’t you, you haven’t been there long enough.

On to the fucking. It was ok. Except remember the mouth breathing? Imagine a bear on top of you, tryng to gaze into your eyes, and breathing onto your face as if it had just run an Olympic sprint. His breath is how hurricanes start. The silver lining was that his breath did not stink. Small win. The arthritis was in my knees so we stuck with him on top, which was fine once I got him to move around a little more so it wasn’t just boring old missionary with a couple sweet little kisses.  Like most people, I turn the temperature down when I go to bed, maybe even lower than most and keep it pretty cool. Even so, the meathead’s sweater was keeping him pretty warm. And because he didn’t want to cum until he absolutely had to, he kept moving. Which made him sweaty. Which meant I had a hot breath hurricane complete with his head sweat dripping all over me. And every time I touched him, I was touching sweaty fur. I wouldn’t have minded so much if I wasn’t started to find him less attractive. He kept asking questions too. Stupid questions like, So are you going to let me come over again? Am I supposed to say no while he’s inside me? I told him to shut up and stop talking instead. It was around this time I told him to stop and lay down so I could go down on him. When he rolled off me, my body was glistening with his sweat. He had a decent dick though.

There’s not much more after that. It was getting time for him to get to work so we had more sex. He laid beside me in the bed for a bit and chatted about our previous conversations and how he thinks I misunderstood something. He had kept asking the same question in the same way and I had finally been like, dude, yes you can come over, I’ve already said that, stop asking. I’ll let you know if something changes. He wanted to clarify that and I said I didn’t care and we didn’t need to talk about it. He said ok and then got up and headed to work. I wanted to go back to sleep, but was left with the decision, Do I lay in the wet spot or the sweat spot? I chose to change my sheets.

I don’t think I’m going to be what he’s looking for and he’s definitely not what I’m looking for. He did text me later that day, but my responses were pretty brief and I thankfully haven’t heard from him since.