The Soul Searcher

So I’m out and I’m drinking and dancing and I run into someone I know. She’s there with a few of her friends and she introduces me to them. They seem like nice people. We spend the rest of the night chatting and joking around, and a few of us end up going for some late night food before we all head home. One of her guy friends and I hit it off really fast and have a good banter going. He’s engaged, so I automatically put him in a “safe” zone. Meaning I think I can make all the inappropriate jokes that I normally make and they won’t be misconstrued as hardcore flirting. (Foreshadowing)

We all go to leave and the other two grab a cab and as I’m about to get my own, he offers me a ride. Duh, of course I’ll take a ride. I like free things. On the way to my house, I’m asking him more questions about his life and about his fiancé and the upcoming wedding. He seems a little…reluctant? Disinterested? So I ask him if he wants to get married. He says no. We’re at my house by this time. Obviously I have to delve into this issue and question him further. I don’t remember everything he said, but I do know I told him that he should rethink it all and decide if this is the life he really wants because if it isn’t, he’d better change trajectory now before it’s too late. It would be better to call off the wedding and cause some hurt now than to go through with it just because it’s the next socially acceptable step in life. Otherwise, he’s going to wake up in 5, 10, 20 years and realize all the time he wasted not being happy. Not to mention all the time his wife will have wasted by creating a life with someone who felt obligated to live this life with her. I’m not sure what it was about my drunk, unsolicited advice that turned him on, but the next thing I know, he grabs me and we’re making out in his truck. And then suddenly we’re naked in my bedroom! I guess nothing is free after all.

This guy was ALL about the tongue. I’m pretty sure he was trying to lick and suck his way into my soul. And when he couldn’t find it in my clit, he searched my asshole instead. And let me say, Oh.My.God. I don’t know if he can cook, but man can he toss a salad! It’s a good thing for my roommate that he’s a deep sleeper. And it’s a good thing for me that this guy was a deep licker. For him, maybe not so much. You see, while he was licking me to kingdom cum, all the pleasure…relaxed me. And I farted. In his face. Probably in his mouth. Just a little one. It took me by surprise, and I laaauuuugghhhed. I laughed so hard. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha And what did he do? He giggled and went back to work like a goddamn champion!

Later, he wanted me to ride his face and I wanted to have sex, so we compromised and had sex.  When we finished, I walked him to the door and said goodbye. The next day I realized I walked him to the door naked and that the porch light was on and the blinds were open and it was dark outside. I hope the neighbours were all asleep. Chances are it wouldn’t even be the first time they saw me naked anyways.

And what happened to the soul searcher? I don’t know. He probably got married.

Guinness and The Irishman

This story is from the summer of 2014, and I haven’t written it because I don’t exactly come out smelling like roses. You’ll get that joke at the end😉

You know what I love? Guinness! It’s soo good. It makes me happy. Especially when there’s a shot of spiced rum added into it. But, it is a bit of a heavy beer. And if you’ve ever spent an evening drinking a few pints of this black gold, you know that it can make you pretty bloated. I mean, it’s totally worth it, but it’s still a terrible feeling.

One night, I was at one of the local pubs drinking this delicious drink when a handsome Irishman said hello to me. He was standing with someone else I knew, and introductions were made. He bought me another Guinness or two and I was well on my way to thinking this guy was pretty alright. I had gone to the pub with a friend and the Irishman asked us if we would like to go back to his place (He had a couple roommates he was planning on introducing to my friend). She was not particularly interested. Especially when she found out this guy lived on the outskirts of the city. She was pretty sure he wanted to murder us, whereas I was pretty sure he just wanted to murder my pussy.

I said I would go with him, but we had to drop my friend off first. And get her some Burger King. And we needed beer. So he picked up some more Guinness and we hopped in a cab. Well, ok, so it wasn’t quite that simple. First of all, while he was getting beer, my tummy started rumbling a little bit and I considered going back in to use the ladies room, but the feeling passed. All was good. Or was it? (Foreshadowing) Anyways, the cab. He walked down the street a little bit to catch the first one that came along. It wasn’t long before one turned the corner and he flagged it down. However, there was another group of people also waiting for a cab who thought it was their cab, or should be. Actually, it was just the one woman who was determined that it was her cab. My friend and I backed off immediately with the woman’s two friends and the 4 of us stood and watched the rather tense argument that followed between the Irishman and this woman. It ended with, “Fine! Take the fucking cab!”, and my friend and I got in. Where to next? Burger King of course! I got mozza sticks, and the Irishman ordered us both a bottle of water. Good thinking, sir! He also serenaded us the whole way back to my friend’s apartment.

Now, onto his house! It was located just barely outside the city, but just far enough that there were no lights anywhere, and there was just a tiny little break in the highway where we could cross over the other side and get to where his house was. When I got out of the cab, I looked at the cab driver, pointed to myself, and said, “Remember this face! If you see me on the news as missing, remember where you left me.”

We go into the house and crack a beer and visit for a bit. He tells me he hasn’t lived there that long, he and his roommates had just moved in. They barely had any furniture. My tummy started to rumble again and I excuse myself to use the bathroom. Remember that bloating feeling you get from Guinness? That was in full force, and farting just wasn’t going to cut it. I’ll spare you the gory details, but trust me, there was a big feeling of relief when I was done. My relief, however, was short-lived. Where’s the toilet paper? Are you fucking kidding me?! I desperately looked around me to assess what I had to work with. Not a square to be found. In fact, there was next to nothing in this bathroom. Well, I guess it’s ‘see ya later panties!’ I mean, it’s sexier if it appears I wasn’t wearing underwear to begin with, right? Right. Thank god they at least had a garbage can in this wasteland. They didn’t even have soap! I had to wash my hand with shampoo and shake them dry. I was past desperation and embarrassment and just getting pissed off at this point! If I weren’t such a goddamn lady, I would have taken an upper decker just to teach them a lesson!

I don’t know how much time passed while I was in the bathroom. It felt like a million hours, but it was probably more like 10 minutes. I could pass it off as “freshening up”. Although I’m not sure that would hold much weight if after what I just did.

The rest of the story isn’t too terribly exciting. He sang to me, played me clips from Rocky (He really, really, really likes that movie), told me he was going to “break me”, asked me to go to Ireland with him, told me about his family and childhood in great detail, and then we had sex and he drove me home in the morning. It was average. He was a good kisser, but nothing very exciting about the sex. He has a girlfriend now, and I sure hope he’s gotten better at foreplay and doesn’t suck on her nipples like he’s trying to remove venom from a snakebite. Also, I had sex with him a second time. On a night that I didn’t drink Guinness. You know, just to be sure.

Advice by Amy: Pretty Unapproachable

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Dear Amy,

Is it possible that being attractive is more of a detriment than an asset?

So not to toot my own horn but I’ve been told that I’m attractive, gorgeous etc. I’m also outgoing, independent and a genuine person that just wants to be happy with a man that treats her well. I don’t even like overly attractive guys, they are too high maintenance! Having that said, I also always have to be the one that makes a move on a guy, or else it just never happens.

I have a friend from high school, we got drunk one night and I told him I used to have a huge crush on him. His response totally blew my mind. He said he also liked me and that he just thought I was “out of his league”. FYI, I lost all interest when he dated my friend back in the day, I don’t like him that way anymore. His response made me think of all the guys I liked, and how I always had to be the one doing the “chasing”, at least until they got the point.. Like “Hey, I like you, I would love to date you and do things to you” you know?!

I get approached by guys, don’t get me wrong, but it’s always the douchebag that really is aiming high if you know what I mean. It’s never the nice guy, or the smart guy, or at least the rich guy. It’s the asshole that tries to get with me. The one that just wants to hook up. Did I mention I’m not the hook up type?

This problem might seem like not a bad problem to have to some people but think about it, if you’re always the one doing the work… If you are deemed unapproachable based on your looks… then where is the fun in that? It doesn’t help that I’m a romantic at heart but I’ve seen it with other girls, they get swept off their feet and here I am, pining over the guys I like.

Signed,
Pretty Unapproachable

Dear Pretty Unapproachable,

When I was going to university and at home for a visit, I ran into one of the guys I graduated with. He told me about this girl in one of his classes, and he called her his “attainable girl”. I don’t know if he had even talked to her at this point, but his labeling of her was based solely on her looks. Pretty, but not too pretty. She was within the imaginary parameters of what he thought a guy like him could have. And he was average. So that’s where he set his sights.

It sounds like the kind of men you like are generally intimidated by you. And that’s it’s not just your looks that do it. In the instance with your friend from high school. You call him a friend, so obviously he knows you as a person and not just some hottie he saw in the hallways every day. So he knows that you’re an independent, outgoing, and genuine person. And that combination with your looks is probably what he thought put you out of his league. Don’t change. I know it’s frustrating to not get the things you want right now, or to have to always be the one to put in so much work for so little reward. But someone who considers you out of their league and makes a move anyways is exactly the kind of person you want to be with. That person has ambition and confidence. However, depending on where you look, you’re not going to find a bunch of men like this. They aren’t exactly a dime a dozen at the clubs on the weekend, you know?

As far as the men who do approach you goes: Confident men will approach any woman they are attracted to, regardless of how hot the rest of us think she is or isn’t. Not because they think every woman is a sure thing for them, but because they know it’s a definite no if they don’t at least take the shot. Confident men get nervous and intimidated too, but they say hi to you anyways and hope you smile and say hi back. Arrogant men will disregard any woman who doesn’t meet their physical standards and expect those they “choose” will fall at their feet. And most of their attraction to you will be based on other people’s perception of how “hot” their arm candy is.

Unfortunately, I don’t have an easy answer for you. If the type of man you’re looking for is the one who needs a little encouragement, you’re going to have to give it to him. The average nice guy probably isn’t going to come up and say hi if you haven’t at least already made eye contact and given him a smile. Or said hi first. When I take my dog to the dog park, he ignores a lot of the other dogs. But when he meets one he likes, he’s like, “hey, did you see me? No?”, then jumps up and humps it until it turns around and chases him in circles and he runs around, tongue hanging out, so happy. Ok, so not the perfect analogy, but you get what I mean! You may have to be the one to break the ice most of the time, but that doesn’t mean you have to settle for a guy who expects you to take the lead all the time. You can either keep on keeping on the way you have been, or you can make some adjustments to your dating life to try and encourage someone to pursue you. Try online dating with private pictures. You’ll have to sift through some profiles and put some time into conversations, but you could meet someone great. Plus, with online dating, it’s a lot less intimidating for men to pursue a beautiful woman. Ask friends to set you up. Smile at the cute guy at the coffee shop. Go for lunch at the cafeteria at the same time as that cute, nerdy guy in your office. Sit next to the sexy, smart guy in your Wednesday class and ask him how his assignment is coming along. Put the vibes out and see what comes back.

Romance doesn’t always come to us the way we expect. You may not meet a guy who is going to sweep you off your feet with a great line or a huge romantic gesture in order to get your attention. But maybe you’ll meet a guy who feels lucky that a woman like yourself was interested in a guy like him and he’ll take time every day that you’re together showing you how much he values you and appreciates that moment you first said hi.

(Also, you said this in your letter: “I don’t even like overly attractive guys, they are too high maintenance!” What makes you think that men think any differently when they look at you? Hi pot, this is kettle. Stereotypically speaking, they’re probably thinking that not only are you out of their league, but that even if you were interested in them, you’re probably high maintenance.)

Amy

Numbers

numbers
How often do you get asked about your “number”? You know, the number of penises or vaginas that have met with your corresponding parts. I have found myself being asked this question a few times over the years, and as recently as the last couple of weeks. I tried to figure it out a year or so ago. I made a list which had entries like: Mike, Jon, Keith, guy I met at the pump that night, guy who was on acid while I was on E at Sasquatch, etc. After I wrote down what I thought was all of them, I counted them up and was at a number that I thought was rather reasonable given my age and dating lifestyle. I was a virgin until I was 22. No, 23. Wait. 22. Anyways. I waited. Not for anything specific. I wasn’t waiting for “the one”. I was just waiting. I like to do things in my own time and that was the time for me. His name was Mike and he slept on a futon. It wasn’t good, and it wasn’t a big deal. It just…was. I didn’t even tell any of my friends about it at the time because that was how boring and matter-of-fact it was. Well, that’s done. *brushes off hands*

So, back to the numbers. I was at a number that some of you would probably consider high, but I’ve been having sex for 12 years with no long-term relationship in there. And I like to drink, and I like to have sex. It’s a winning combination. So I thought it was rather reasonable. But then I started remembering more. I’d be driving in my car and another one would pop into my head. And then another. And another. Months down the road, I was still remembering men I’d forgotten. (Sorry fellas! Be more memorable next time!) So I decided to stop keeping track.

I started talking to this guy on Tinder. It started out well enough. We exchanged phone numbers and started texting. He’s younger than me, 27, and he lives a couple of hours away. He wanted to play 20 questions and asked if there was anything off limits. I told him he could ask me anything he wanted and if I felt like it was too far, I just wouldn’t answer it. The first half of the questions were basics…favourite food, where we want to travel, etc. And then of course there was the measurements question. What is it with you men and your need to know exactly how big a woman’s breasts are? Aren’t you supposed to be visual creatures? I have pictures on my profile. But that’s not good enough. And the reason is always the same…”I’m a numbers guy.” Whatever. If I’m in a good mood, I’ll tell you. Especially since I know you don’t really understand how bra sizing works and the relation between cup and band size, and anything over a 36C is going to blow your mind.

So then the questions lead into more sex talk, favourite position, weirdest place you’ve done it, and then anal. That’s where I stopped him. Not because I’m uncomfortable talking about it, but because sex is one of those topics that I don’t think should go too far when you’ve only just started to get to know each other. A good number of men will push these limits. He was fine with stopping though, and went back to regular questions.

Some days later, I found out he was married for a couple of years, they split a couple of years ago, and he hasn’t had sex since they split. First I asked him why they divorced and he said it was because she thought it was ok to sleep with other men. I told him I was sorry that happened to him and asked if she gave him a reason for why she cheated. His response was, “I dunno. Cause she’s a whore?” I guess he’s still a little bitter about it. And then I asked him why he hasn’t had sex in so long. He hasn’t met anyone special and he’s never had a one-night stand. He asked if I’ve ever had one. Uhh….yes. Have I had a lot of them? …..uhh…. I told him I’ve had a couple. Ok, you can all stop laughing now. Next, he asked how many people I’ve slept with. I laughed and said that was none of his business, and asked if a big number would bother him. He said it depends how big the number is. I asked why it would bother him. He said he didn’t know, and that maybe it wouldn’t. I said it wouldn’t matter to me, 1 or 100, I don’t care. To which he replied that he’s only had sex with 3 women, so…

When he didn’t text me the next day, I thought I had scared him off, but he messaged the day after that and regularly for the next few days after. Unfortunately, he’s terribly boring over text and can’t seem to carry on a conversation beyond the few topics we’d already discussed. Meh. I already had the feeling that this guy has some stuff to work through. And like so many other men on Tinder and Pof, he wanted to talk about sex and push the boundaries of what is acceptable conversation, but if I have a colourful, bountiful past, that could be a problem? Come on! I haven’t been guarding my sexuality all this time just waiting for you to come along like some kind of goddamn Christopher Columbus!

I feel like numbers aren’t something that we (especially women) should have to hide, and yet, we all know that if you’ve surpassed single digits in the number of partners you’ve had, you’re going to either lie about the number, or just not admit to a number at all. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, whether it’s 1 or 5 or 35, or 100, or if you’re not even on the board yet. Shout it loud and proud, if you want! But be prepared for the judgement. I would never want anyone who would judge me on it anyways, but I also don’t want to deal with having it thrown in my face like it’s a bad thing. And so my number will remain a mystery. I’m going to keep living like an Agatha Christie novel and loving who I want to love with my honey pot, and you should too.

Advice by Amy: Impatient

Dear Amy,
I started doing the online dating thing a few months ago and recently “met” a really great guy. After a few conversations, we exchanged phone numbers. We’ve been texting and it’s been going really good. We have great conversations, but just over text. We haven’t talked on the phone. He has told me several times that he is interested in finding a relationship. We talk about how our days were, and we tell each other our hopes and plans for the future. We’ve even done a bit of sexting and exchanged some sexy (but not naked) pictures. Except, we haven’t met yet. Every time we make plans, he backs out at the last minute. It’s been about a month since we started texting and I’m starting to wonder if he’s actually serious about wanting a relationship. And honestly, I now kinda feel a little embarrassed about the pictures I sent him. I really like him, but how can I tell if he’s serious?

Signed,

Impatient

 

Dear Impatient,

Isn’t waiting for a date the worst?! I have been in this same situation and I know exactly how frustrating it can be. It’s surprising and weird when you feel a connection with someone you’ve never met, but not unusual.

I think you already know the answer to your question. If he keeps backing out, and has let a month go by without meeting you, his interest is low. He may even believe that he wants a relationship, but something is holding him back, and it’s not up to you to try and fix him, or convince him. Whether it’s intentional or not, he’s leading you on. He can make all the excuses he wants, and you’ve probably accepted his excuses and made some of your own based on things he’s told you about himself. But these are just that: excuses. Even if you did meet now, what about his behaviour makes you think that you would be a priority in this man’s life?

If you’re still texting this man, you need to stop. Right now. You need to be free to focus on finding a man who wants a relationship and will put in the effort to have one with you. Now, you will likely have that little glimmer of hope in the back of your mind at this point that saying this to him will kick his ass into gear. It won’t. And his response to you will be extremely unsatisfying. He will likely give you a one word answer, or he won’t say anything at all. Both will drive you crazy and you’ll want to send him more messages. Do not do this. This is the perfect time to decide what you want and don’t want, and what you are willing to put up with in your dating life. Have a cry, let it go, and delete his number.

Online dating can be a little bit like dating on a reality TV show like The Bachelor. It’s dating in a fantasy world called Your Head. If you’ve met online dates in the past, you already know that your attraction to someone can change in an instant when you spend some one on one time with them. Take this experience and make it a personal rule to not go longer than 1-2 weeks without meeting someone you’ve met online. This should also apply to anyone you meet at the grocery store or the bar or wherever. If a date hasn’t happened within that time, move on. 2 weeks MAXIMUM. Anything beyond that and you’re allowing yourself to get invested in an illusion.

As for sending sexy pictures, just be mindful of what you send, and never feel that you HAVE to send pictures to keep a man’s interest. Pictures should be on your terms only. And only send pictures that you feel comfortable posing for, make you feel sexy, and wouldn’t die if someone else saw them. It sounds like the pictures you sent were tasteful, so don’t be embarrassed. You can ask him to delete them, and hope that he does. And if he doesn’t, well, then he’s the one holding onto the fantasy.

New Advice Section

I have an opinion on almost everything. And if you have a problem you’re not sure how to handle, I’d love to offer my opinion to you. Problem with your significant other? Not sure how to proceed with the guy from Pof who won’t ask you out? Having trouble having an orgasm? Is your friend marrying the wrong person and you don’t know how to talk to him/her about it? Do you have a strange rash in a delicate spot? It can be anything, not necessary sex or dating related. Send me your situations and questions @ campbellamy@live.ca and I will feature them on my blog. You can remain anonymous.

Reruns

For the past few months, I have been getting requests for the pleasure of my company from several men from my past. If I were a hooker, I’d have a decent sized group of regulars. These are a few of the more interesting ones. The 20 year old kid messaged me this summer, asking me for a favour. You’re probably thinking you know exactly what kind of “favour” he’d be looking for, but you’re wrong. Sort of. He asked me if I knew of anyone I could set him up with.

“Amy I have a question”
“Hey kid, what is it?” (I don’t actually call him kid, but I won’t use his name.)
“Do u know any older women who would be interested in me? I have been trying so hard, but can’t find an older woman who likes. They think cuz of my age I’m automatically immature.”
“Interesting in you in what way? Are you wanting to date someone or just fool around? And how old are you looking for? My age or 40’s or…?”
“Just fool around. Anyone over 28.”
“Hmm I’m not sure. Most of my girlfriends are looking for relationships.”
“I’m open for a relationship, I just don’t see an older woman wanting to date a 21 year old.”
“I’ll keep an eye open for you.”
“Because ur no longer interested in me, correct?”

And there it is! He needed to check and see if there’s still a chance. I told him that I’m not interested in fooling around anymore, even though he’s cute and a good lay. What I didn’t tell him was that even if I had any friends who were interested in meeting a guy that young, I’m not sure any of them would be into the same things he is, sexually speaking. I mean, this is the same kid who wanted me to pee on him every single time we talked. He also wanted to throat fuck me until I puked and put a dildo up his ass. By all means, if you are a female over the age of 28 and into some kinky shit (which may include actual shit), let me know and I’ll hook you up.

Then there’s the Farmer. Every few months I get a message from him. Sometimes it’s to ask how I’m doing and what’s new. And sometimes it’s to ask me if I want to have a threesome. If I’m not into having another girl there, he has a buddy. The one who saw me naked when I spent the night in their hotel room. Or we have a conversation like this:

“Find a girlfriend yet? Lol”
“lol Not looking for one.”
“You should! You would like it!”
“No.”
“lol Why not?”
“Not interested”
“Have you tried it?”
“No, and I’m not going to.”
“lol Well that’s no fun!”
“Men are pretty fun. You should try them.”
“No, I’m good.”
Man, I bet his ex-wife is really beating herself up about letting this one get away.

Speaking of married men. Remember this guy? I haven’t seen or spoken to him for over 3 years, until he sent me a message on Pof about a month ago. He didn’t have a picture up, but after reading his profile, I was pretty sure I knew who it was. Our exchange went something like:

“Hi, I don’t know if you remember me, but we met awhile ago, and I was wondering if you’d like to meet again.”
“Hmm, you’ll have to tell me a bit about yourself first to see if I remember you.”
“I’m from Saskatoon, we met up a couple of times and had some fun.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.” hahaha
“I guess I’m not that memorable.”
“Were you married?” (His profile now says separated.)
“Yes.”
“Ok, I remember you.”
“Great! So would you want to meet up again? I would love to see you, I had a great time the last time.”
“No thanks. I’m not looking for anything casual.”
“Oh, ok. Well, if you change your mind…”
“Good luck.”

A week later, he messaged me again, and once again asked if I’d like to have some “fun” with him. I don’t know about you, but nowhere in my idea of fun is there included a dirty eyebrow wiggle that happens while a man is thrusting his dick inside me. Just imagine it for a moment. A guy looking down at you, obviously pretty please with himself, and wiggles his eyebrow at you. Like he’s giving you just what you want. It’s the sexual equivalent to the wink and a gun. Not sexy.

Ugh, why does my vagina have to be so magical?

And now there’s Houdini. I was sure I wrote about him previously, but I couldn’t find the post, so maybe I just thought about writing about him. We met on Pof and went on a date a couple of years ago. It was a great date! Seriously, I think we spent 6-7 hours together. We met at a pub in Cathedral for a couple of drinks and a bit to eat. Coincidentally, he took a “cab” to the pub because he didn’t want to drive after having some drinks and who was his cab driver? This guy! When he came into meet me, he was telling me about this guy who drove him and he just calls him whenever he needs a ride and this guy shows up and takes however much he wants to pay. I had used this guy years before that and turned out to be the same guy. And then of course there was that time more recently that I re-met this guy and, well, we know how that turned out. Anyways, back to our date. We got along very well, we found a lot to talk about. He’s handsome in a Sons of Anarchy kind of way, works in construction. I believe he had his own company at the time, had lived a crazy life. The kind of life where you’re not sure how someone turned out as well as they did. He left home/was kicked out when he was 14 or so. I don’t think he ever finished school, he just started working and travelling across Canada, picking up jobs as he went. So after the first pub, we went to another. It was pretty dead so we just had a drink or two and talked some more and then decided since neither of us wanted the night to end yet, we would go back to his place to watch a movie. I had just moved and didn’t even have furniture at my new place yet, so it had to be his house. I can’t even remember what movie we settled on, but I know it was bad. It had a lot of gratuitous female nudity and some animals that killed everyone after genetic mutation or something. A story as old as time. We did make out a bit, but I wouldn’t go any further with him. I called a cab to go home and he said he was hungry again and wanted to grab some food, so did I mind if he shared a ride with me part of the way. No problem. So here’s where it gets weird. We were in the north end, I live close to downtown. He gave me some money for the cab, and when we got to the lights on McCarthy and 9th, he said this is close enough for him, jumped out of the cab, and ran over to the Normanview Mall.

I literally never heard from him again. After I didn’t hear from him the next day, I texted him. No response. Maybe he didn’t get it. So I messaged him on Pof. No response, and a couple of days after that, his profile was gone. Uh, ok? That was weird.

Then a few weeks ago, I get a message from him on Pof. He’s back in Regina. He said hi and said he didn’t know if I remembered him, but we went out awhile ago and he’d love to go out with me again. I said that I did remember him, and that I remembered him disappearing and never hearing from him again. He apologized for that, said something about getting a last minute job up north that he left for right away, blah blah blah. I guess he must have forgot his phone when he left? But hey, I’m all about second chances, so I kept chatting with him. He apologized again and asked if I would like to go out with him. I said I was open to that and then gave him my number to contact me sometime. Three weeks went by. Three fucking weeks! And nothing. I mean, I shouldn’t be that surprised. It took this guy 2 years after our first date to ask for a second, so I guess waiting a few weeks for a text should be no big deal, right? I didn’t contact him again, but then just last night, he messaged me again.

“Just wanted to say hi, hope you’re doing well. I like the new pics, beautiful as always, Happy Halloween.”
“Hi, thanks.”
“I work a lot, but I’d like to see you sometime if you like.”
“I sent you my number, but you never used it…”
“No excuses there. I took too long and Pof deleted it. So if you’d like, here’s my number.”

I did end up texting him and we chatted for awhile. He wants to go out sometime this week. I’m considering it. Cause I’m all about third chances. Maybe I’ll make a date and then just…disappear.

UPDATE: We had plans to go out. I didn’t hear from him the day before our date was scheduled. I didn’t hear from him on the day our date was scheduled. I texted him the day before, but there was no response. The day AFTER our date was supposed to be, I received a text from him. He apologized for not being available and said he worked 18 hours that day. But that he’d still like to get together sometime soon. I said maybe if I had time on the weekend. I haven’t heard from him since, and I don’t care.

Sex With Friends

I don’t have sex with my friends. Friends of friends, yes. Friends of friends of friends, yes. Friends of strangers, yes. Strangers, yes. Guys who wear multiple pairs of pants, yes. But never my friends. Except that one time. And then almost this time that I’m about to tell you about.

We aren’t super close friends, but we chat (flirt) once in awhile, and recently he’s been really, really flirty. One night recently, we went for supper and had a pretty good time. The conversation flowed easily, there were a lot of jokes, and we discussed a lot of topics. One of them was music. He is a fan of bands from the 90’s and 2000’s, including Seven Mary Three (this is important for later). We were out late, and had a little too much to drink. I should mention that I’ve been chatting with another guy that I’ve been feeling pretty into, but he lives out of town and we haven’t gotten to see each other much. But even so, my attention has been focused in that direction. Due to this, I had decided before I even went out that if he made a move, I was going to turn him down. But, the whiskey had other ideas. So when he asked me if I wanted to go back to his place, I said yes. I mean, he’s pretty hot and he makes me laugh. What’s a girl to do? I’m not made of stone!

We get to his place and crack a couple of beer. I have just a couple sips out of mine before he kisses me. Oh, that’s where this is going? (I said innocently) And before I knew it, we were making out on his bed. He kissed me gently and slowly ran his hands over my body. I pulled away and told him that there was someone else I was interested in, and I shouldn’t be doing this, and should go home. He told me I shouldn’t do anything that felt wrong. So I pulled him towards me and kissed him long and deep, because being bad feels so much better than being good. He told me I could spend the night if I wanted to, and that we could just sleep. I went to the bathroom to think about it. When I came out, he was under the covers. I asked him how naked he was under there, and he told me he still had his underwear on. I said ok then, pulled my dress up over my head, handed him a straw, and let him drink it in.

I crawled into bed with him, kissed him, said good night, and rolled over. He spooned up behind me and kissed my shoulder while his fingers trailed over the curves of my body, barely touching me, grazing over the peaks and valleys, sending shivers to all the right spots. I turned towards him and met his lips with mine. He put his hand in my hair and pulled my head back. I moaned and he kissed his way down my neck and up again, licking and nibbling on my ear. I could feel how hard his dick was. I begrudgingly told him to stop.

We went back to cuddling and talking. It got real comfortable, real fast. This back and forth went on for a couple of hours. We’d talk and laugh and cuddle, and then we’d make out, going a little bit farther each time. And then he said, maybe I should put on a condom, you know, just in case. I laaauuughed! And said no. We finally called it a draw and went to sleep.

The next morning, he had to get up early for work, so he showered and got ready and then realized he still had a half hour before he even had to leave. Remember how I said I wasn’t going to hook up with this man? Well, there I was, naked except for a piece of lace covering my kitty, lying in his bed looking up at him, saying, “Well, what are you going to do with all that spare time?” He jumped back into bed pretty quickly and kissed me. Close-mouthed because it’s the morning and we’re not animals. Then he got back out of bed. “These jeans are too tight,” he says. Smooooth. And since his jeans were coming off, well, his sweater might as well come off too! He crawled up between my legs and asked if we could have sex. I told him if he couldn’t get me to agree the night before when I was drunk, the chances of me saying yes while I was hungover were not good. He told me he was going to make me wet and leave then. I suppose that seems only fair. Plus, I could just go home and pull out my vibrator after he did all the legwork😉

Now he figures he had better get dressed and be on his way. He tells me I can stay as long as I want and sleep. So I don’t move too fast. He grabs his phone and heads to the bathroom. The bathroom is located right by the bedroom, and the entire time we were together, he was a gentleman and always turned the faucet on so I wouldn’t have to listen to him pee. This time was no exception. Except that it was the exception. I hear the faucet turn on, and then I hear, “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry. Amy, I’m so sorry,” followed by the sounds of….his ass exploding. Followed by….Seven Mary Three. Followed by more ass exploding, and his desperate apologies. “I’m sorry Amy, I’m so fucking classy. Jesus.” I am DYING laughing at this point! When he finally emerges from the bathroom, he apologizes again and tears are streaming down my face at how funny this morning turned out to be.

“Why did you start playing Seven Mary Three?! That didn’t help at all!”

“I just wanted something else to help cover up the sound and that was the first song that played on my phone. I’m so embarrassed, I thought I could make it to work, and then it hit! Oh god, now every time you hear that song, you’re going to think of this moment!”

Oh man, we laughed. So. Hard. I probably won’t be able to resist him again.

The City Worker

I’ll call him “Ron”.

I met Ron through Tinder. We had a decent conversation and I gave him my number. We texted for a few days and everything was cool. He’s 41 and works for the city. We had some decent conversations, but of course he would eventually lead it towards sex. I don’t mind talking about sex, but there’s limits. He told me a lot of things he likes, and that he’s pretty kinky. I told him that I didn’t want to keep talking about sex or things that I like and don’t like because then if we end up sleeping together, there’s weird expectations and limited surprises. Plus, I just didn’t want to only talk about sex and told him he could get to know me. He agreed, and we had some more good conversations. Then Thursday came along, and I went out. He told me ahead of time that if I needed a ride, I could call him. We hadn’t met in person yet, so I said I didn’t think that was a good idea and I didn’t want to wake him up since he starts work at 6. He said he didn’t mind. What I really meant was that I would be drunk and prone to bad decisions. He didn’t mind that either.

Well, at the end of the night, after finding and wearing a random hat and dancing on some sort of table at Q nightclub, Drunk Amy remembered that there was someone who would drive us home and we didn’t need to pay for a cab. Obviously my friend thought this was a great idea, especially since I never introduce her to anyone that I’m interested in, or sleeping with. To be fair, I don’t usually introduce any of my friends to anyone. And for good reason, as you’ll find out. So I call Ron, and he says yep, he’ll come get us.

Ron shows up and we get into his truck and head to the north end to drop my friend off. The entire way there, she makes jokes about me, asks him inappropriate questions, and shares waayyyy too much about my life. The next day she tells me she now understands why I never introduce her to anyone that I’m interested in.

After we drop her off, we head back downtown to my house. When we get there, he parks and comments on how he has a very nice down-blouse view. I may have had a slightly tasteless amount of buttons undone on my shirt. He leans over and kisses me. He’s a very good kisser. I kiss him back, hard. And then pull away and say, Thanks for the ride! And hop out of the truck. Goddamn prick tease.

He texts me the next day to tell me how much he enjoyed making out with me, and wants to see me again. But my schedule doesn’t work for the next few days for going out, so I say we’ll have to plan for the next week. Well, the next evening I have free happens to be Thursday again. And I’m going out. Again, he tells me to call him if I need a ride. Obviously I call him. Drunk Amy already made a hypocrite out of Sober Amy, so why the hell wouldn’t I? And once again, he drives all the way to the north end to drop my friend off, and then back downtown to drop me off. This time, I have my hand on his thigh when we make out in his truck. And by thigh, I mean upper thigh. And by upper thigh, I mean his dick. He seemed to like that. I’m sure he would have liked it even more if I hadn’t gotten out and gone inside my house alone again.

We keep trying to make plans, but again, my schedule is not always conducive to making dates. I make some time for him before one of my night shifts and stop by his house on my way to work. Well, his apartment. It’s weird how a simple thing like taking your shirt off leads to having a dick in your mouth, but who am I to stop the natural progression of things? He already had a cock ring over his dick and balls. And what he really wanted to do was jerk off while looking at me, so that was easy enough, plus I like watching guys jerk off. I told him he could cum on me if he wanted, and that then he should lick it off after. He didn’t like that idea. And he calls himself kinky! I laughed, I thought it was a great idea! He came on himself.

So then I left because I didn’t have time to hang around and do anything that would get me off. But I was relatively turned on by the experience. Not enough to see him again though. After hanging out with him soberly, I wasn’t that interested. Plus, he was 41 and still renting. The older I get, the more I realize the things that are really important in a man: Real Estate and RRSP’s.

We didn’t talk much after that. He texted a couple of times and I didn’t respond. And then a couple weeks after that, he found me on Pof AND Tinder again and messaged me on both. He told me he lost his phone or some bullshit like that and to text him and left his number. I didn’t text.

#next

Don’t Play it Again, Sam

It’s been a month since I ended things with Sam. He was alright. On paper, he had a lot of qualities that I look for. But in reality, he wasn’t for me. On our first date, he paid. Points for that. But then he didn’t tip our waitress! I peeked at our bill and it was around $39. He handed her $40 and told her to keep the change. I saw the look on her face. The look that said she wished she had spit in our food.

The more I talked to him, the more bored I got. There wasn’t anything that excited me about this guy. I got to the point very quickly where I didn’t even notice when we went a couple of days without texting. And then when I did realize it, I didn’t bother sending him a message. I just didn’t care if we spoke or not. I was even past the point of seeing if there was anything physical between us that would spark some feelings in me. But then I got drunk.

I was out at O’Hanlon’s, a local pub, on a Thursday evening, and I needed a ride home. So obviously I called Sam. I told him to take me to his house, but insisted we drive through the park first where I made him pull over several times to make out. When we finally got to his house, he was pretty worked up and it didn’t’ take long for us to get naked. The sex was…ok. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t good, it was just…ok. It did not make me want to do it again and again. 2 minutes after he came (I didn’t), I said, “Ok, take me home now please.” He looked at me and asked if I wanted to spend the night or at least stay and cuddle for a bit. Nope, home please.

He drove me home and I get inside and get ready for bed and he texts me. He texts me kissy faces and hearts. Fuck. I’m kind of an asshole.

We text off and on for a couple of days, my responses to him are short. I try to figure out the best way to tell him I’m not interested. I felt that since I’d already done a bang and bail, maybe I should wait a few days before telling him I didn’t want to see him anymore. You know, not destroy his ego. So I waited. And then a few days passed where I didn’t hear from him. Whew! I was in the clear! Yeah right. On the Monday of the August long weekend, he messaged me to see how my weekend had gone. I answered and responded with the same question. He told me it was good, but would have been so much better if he’d been able to see me because he missed me. Goddamn it. I was really going to have to have “the talk.”

It’s not you, it’s me, blah blah blah. What I actually said was “That’s sweet, but I have just not been feeling a real spark between us. I like you, but not in a romantic way and I don’t want you to waste your time on me.” His response was, “Oh k well good enough. Its cool, you straighten things out with the other party.” Other party? Wtf does that mean? Does he think I was seeing someone else? Obviously that’s the only reason I couldn’t be interested, right? I guess I didn’t need to be worried about his ego! *eyeroll*