Episode 15: Fuck Me.

I was at a movie when I missed his text...
The Suit: Wanna do it again?
Me (an hour later): Duh. I thought you'd never ask.

Still haven't heard anything back. At least I know he wants to do it again and I wasn't just crazy.

Sorry for the lack of updates. There's just been a lack of sex.

Episode 14: Forever Whatever

So things with The Suit and that's alright I suppose. Not that there was anything to "work out" - we're both not in the place for a relationship. That simple.

So, if I'm just sleeping with this guy, what's the rules with dating? Do I have to tell fuck buddy that I'm seeing someone? Do I have to see the person I'm seeing that I have a fuck buddy? What are these rules, and do I even have to follow them?

This comes up because I might have a date with someone tonight. I don't know if it's a date (it's probably not) but I've been flirting with this guy for awhile now. I know he used to have a little crush on me, but gave up after he found out (at the time) I had a crush on his good friend. So whatever, maybe those feelings are back... Don't get me wrong, I do like this guy as well... My issue is I don't know if I can get past the "friend" phase. Yeah, that's really the question: If I can get past the "friends" thing and be a little more romantically interested in him. We'll see I guess...

Episode 13: Jackrabbits.

I don't have sex on the first date. It's just not something I do.

However, when I went out with a good friend the other night, I don't think we realized it was a date, and I don't think we realized we were going to have sex.

I met him a few years ago through some projects - we were introduced and realized our business styles were similar. He has a kind of professionalism that I respect and admire. We had fallen out of touch over the past year: we were both in serious relationships (he had moved in with his girlfriend), and we hadn't been working a lot together. I was surprised when he called me in late August. He told me that he had flown to meet his girlfriend's parents with her in Europe, and that after he arrived, she dumped him for another woman. He flew back to the states and called me the next day for guidance. It surprised me: I didn't expect a call from him, nor did I know he respected my opinion that much. I talked him through the immediate pain, and checked in on him the next few days to make sure he was okay.

When I got back here, he called and wanted to get dinner. We desperately needed to catch up.

We met at a really adorable restaurant halfway between our apartments. I was a little dressed up - during the day I decided to go with my "professional" look. When I got out of my cab, he was wearing a suit. God, he looked fucking handsome. Incredibly sexy. (I later learned that these days he always wears a suit, so it wasn't like he was getting dressed up for me or anything.)

We were at the restaurant for hours; we closed the place down. The conversation was effortless - we talked a lot about our recent breakups... we both missed having the presence of another body in our beds; snuggling is a basic human right. Otherwise, we had so much to catch up on and It was so great to hear about how successful he's been lately. It was blinding actually - success is sexy when you've been dating guys who you have to ask to pay for your dinner - he picked up the entire bill (He wouldn't let me look at it, but I'm guessing it was around $100.) I'm not a golddigger or a moneygrubber by any means - It's just really attractive to be taken care of for once.. I've always felt like I had to be the nurturer.

He had told me about his new apartment - the one he had to get as soon as his girlfriend broke up with him - and I volunteered to go see it after dinner - I figured I wouldn't know when I'd see him again or have another chance to travel out to his apartment, so I might as well go with him now and get the grand tour.

It took us a little while to get out there, but his apartment was cool. Empty at the time - he has JUST moved in days before - practically no furniture. We talked about what he was going to buy and where it was going to go. I realized it was starting to get really late and mentioned I might need to leave soon... he suggested I just stay over - we indulge in our aforementioned snuggling desires - I figured it was safe, thinking "It's just snuggling."

So I stole a pair of his sweatpants and jumped into bed. He followed soon after and we were wrapped and intertwined. It was such an embrace that felt so good, so right. I opened my eyes for a split second and saw him staring back at me. He had one of those looks - you know what I'm talking about - and I knew what was up. I had subconsciously tricked myself into this, and now I was going to have to make a call.

"This cannot change things professionally." I said. "I will not have it. I am an adult and this should be dealt with maturely."
He said something about being an adult as well and that he wasn't concerned at all with the situation.

The next thing I knew, clothes were coming off. We were breathing into each other and our bodies just seemed to click. It was marathon sex - hours of it. Probably the most I've ever had in one night. "Was it good" is the question that always comes up - and I can say that some of it was great... felt amazing. Sometimes when we were done with a round, he would just stay inside me... we were connected in those moments and it was so surreal. On the other hand, it got a little jackrabbity at times. Gentlemen, whoever told you that pounding it into me like you were whacking off with your hand was never sexy, never good. Painful, in fact. Not cute. Ow. Still hurts.

But otherwise, it was nice.

We got 4 hours of sleep (normal for him apparently?) and I woke up the next morning completely disoriented and somewhat mindfucked. Manic, to be more precise. We had sex again, got in the shower, and went about our work.

It took me awhile to come to a few realizations about the situation: first, when we got in the shower, it wasn't sexual at all. It was a shower. He just happened to be standing next to me. Second, all day I was a completely manic mess, trying to figure out if I actually ha feelings for this person, or if I was just jaded by money, sex, and success.

I still don't know how I feel about it. I have feelings for him, sure, I just don't know what they are yet.

Episode 12: Unlucky

I don't think things are working out with The Self Depricator. We're good friends, still, but he's emotionally unstable to the point where I fear I am far too invested in our friendship, and he is basically relying on me for emotional support. That's scary to me. I don't think I've ever been in a friendship where someone else is relying on me for emotional support. I'm more than willing to do this for him, because I genuinely care about him, but I question his dedication to me.

I'm back in my usual place of residence trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I'm young... so young... and I have plenty of time to figure these things out.

I am realizing, however, that I am unintentionally abusing my friends who are in serious relationships. When I run into them, one of the questions to escape my lips is (before "how is your relationship"?) "Does your boyfriend have any amazing single male friends?"

I'm beginning to sound desperate. Pathetically so. I feel like I'm hunting. I've been back for about 24 hours and I'm hunting. My weaknesses are getting the best of me, and my vibrator is no longer giving me the companionship I need. The Self Depricator satisfies me conversationally, my vibrator is a bit of a sexual release, but I feel like I need to be fucked and then spooned; my vibrator and a telephone can't do that.

Have I mentioned I'm completely over phone sex? I've been in a few long distance relationships where phone sex was brought into play - even webcam shit went down - but I feel as if even calling up a booty call or two for a little phoneplay is not gonna get the job done anymore. Anonymous sex scares me (sorry craigslist) so I'm not sure what I'm going to do anymore. Geez.

Where is the untapped reserves of attractive, single, mature, young men? Can we drill for that in Alaska? I'll put in a call to Sarah Palin. God. Her political career is really going to be over when McCain loses the election.

But back to sex, and all of it that I'm not having... Things need to change or I'm going to start fucking my friends again, or even worse, I'll try women again and make a whole new world of hell for myself.

Episode 11:

In reflection of what happened in Chapter 10, I don't really regret it. I suppose that was a long time coming and it was bound to happen. It was just unfortunate that it sucked so bad, because it makes me never want to drive 6 hours for a booty call again. Lame.

I am beginning to question the direction of my life and if I am heading in a safe direction. As I'm gearing up to go back "home" (where I have an apartment by myself that currently possesses most of my personal belongings,) I feel a surge of inappropriate and immature behavior coming on. I see a fall full of drunken hookups and late nights dancing in clubs with men I've never met before. I see myself shopping for "club clothes" - I HATE THAT - and getting all hung up in "how do I look." I fear the fall because i know things are going to change with the leaves and I'm not really ready for change yet. I am not really mentally prepared for the repercussions of my future actions. eg: moral destruction and lack of self-respect.

But for some reason I have hope. I have hope that my future promiscuity and experimentation in the single life will be fun. I don't really want to beat myself up over these things anymore, and hopefully I can just let go and have fun for once. My happiness is now my priority, and I intend to keep it that way.

Episode 10: Poor Choices

I made some really terrible decisions recently. I am not proud of them. In fact, they go against most of the things I stand for, and I regret letting things get out of hand. Let’s break it down so I get embarrassed and never do it again:

First: Getting drunk. Usually I don’t have a problem getting drunk. I did have a problem with getting THAT drunk. The hangover made it almost not worth it. Whiskey is not my friend, nor will it ever be. That night may have changed my mind about drinking heavily… the thing is I don’t remember drinking that much. I had maybe 6-8 shots over the course of several hours (all in mixed drinks, never straight) and somehow, I ended up making the choices I said I wasn’t going to. Brilliant.

Second: Sex. Don’t get me wrong, sex is great. But this sex was licentious. I was completely disregarding my values and ideals regarding sex for the primal urges. This sex was not by any means amazing. This sex was dim witted (on my part, obviously licentious.) Almost annoying. Whiskey dick had struck him and I was forced into a position (not literally, well I guess literally) where I was forced to do most of the work, if you get my drift. He kept asking me to go down on him (in hopes of getting it up) and whenever I would, we’d have about 30 seconds of intercourse before he was soft again. Annoying.

But I don’t think you understand how annoying it actually was. The most annoying part of this entire ordeal is that I had hooked up with this guy once before, drunker, in fact (we’re talking black out) and had the same issue: severe drunk dick. It was a similarly upsetting experience and I did not have sex with him (partially cause I didn’t want to, partially because I was “saving myself for someone special,” which he teased me about the other night, but honestly didn’t bother me.) I guess I kind of made it a personal mission at one point to a) meet up with this guy again, drunk and b) have awesome sex with him – because obviously the chemistry was there and needed to be ignited.

Back to the most annoying sex of my entire life, I decide it’s far to degrading to tease him about not being able to get hard (he’s being hard enough on himself as it is) telling me how much he wants to fuck me and yadda yadda yadda. I go “great. Get a condom.”

And here’s what takes us to the biggest failure of the evening: Sex without a condom.

Ugh. I regret it. I regret it so hard I wish I could beat myself up more for it, but the hangover enough taught me a lesson. Well sort of. An STD would really teach me a lesson, but fuck that. No thanks. I asked for one, it was finally materialized (hah. He had to go downstairs and ask his roommate for one. Cute.) and promptly ignored. Erections were so inconsistent that getting the condom on would have been a buzz-kill and a half. Miserable. Ugh. It was terrible. And that’s when I think the drunk girl in me, gave up, and just went with it. He kept asking if I was on birth control, I kept not answering, and we kept having sex… until he finally came and we collapsed on the bed.

I fell asleep in his arms. That was the best thing about the night: the spooning was orgasmic. There’s something incredible about a man who makes you feel tiny wrapped in his arms.

I guess when I woke up the next morning with the worst hangover of my entire life, I figured out it wasn’t worth the trouble. I felt guilty, like I’d betrayed someone… not just myself. I think it’s because I have sincere feelings for the Self Depricator that I’m not exactly comfortable with. I’m afraid to tell him, and I think it’s because I care what he thinks.

Oh. And my period just started? What a day.

Episode 9: Stay or Leave

I'm not quite sure what I wanted to write about today, but I'm going to just put my thoughts out there...

This guy (aka The Self-Deprecator) is killing me. I have fallen for it really bad. Our daily conversations have moved from just online to the phone, which to one degree scares me, because I feel as if I'm expecting him to call now. Everyday. On the other hand, its comforting. It's like having the emotional support I've been looking for in a relationship, but not having to deal with the messy stuff.

Actually, we've been playing games, and I don't think either one of us will admit it.

One of the games is the "I'm so glad you're my friend and I can talk to you about who I'm hooking up with" game. The SD apparently got more game than I expected him (bravo, sir) and has thrown a few stories I wasn't expecting. Then again, I think my past adventures also kind of catch him off guard: at times I sound like a bit of a whore, in reality of a comparison to my peers, I'm a pretty prude chick. Oh well. This game is pretty much him being like "I think I have a crush on this girl..." and the next day I'll throw in "I'm going out of town next weekend and I think it's a booty call." I think I'm a little more of an open book when it comes to my sexual past (go figure) but I'm unsure if he's just afraid of sharing anything like that, or if he's sparing me the gory details.

Another game we play is the "I hate my life game" where we both get into some funk about how horrible our lives currently on. You always want what you can't have, he tells me. But I honestly don't feel like I want anything else, I just don't like what I'm doing, and that's clear. I am constantly questioning my future path, and he's giving me his opinion, a direct response, which I so fucking appreciate, because people with fippy-floppy answers piss me off. Grr. He's comforting, yet just pushy enough that it will either push me further into my stubbornness, or make me see something I hadn't before.

Our final game is the "I miss..." game. This is usually when I say "I miss New York" and he goes "It misses you" or something to that extent. This translated into English means "I miss you." "I miss you too." It's odd, knowing that I could be on his mind right now. I try not to lie to myself, and I point out it is very well possible he is NOT thinking of me. This is true. But he is on my mind a lot, and for the amount of talking we do every day, I don't know how I couldn't be.

I simply adore his presence in my life and wish that fate would let it be something else. But I firmly believe that I'm here for a reason (even if it's a masochistic enforced reason) and that my mission, should I choose to accept it (already have), I have to complete what I came here to do in hopes of bettering my life in the long run.

My dilemma really lies in if I want this job I've been offered or not. On one hand, I know its the best opportunity for me, but i hate it here. I have never been happy in this city. I don't think I ever will be. My other option is to go back to New York, but I question at this point whether I'm doing it for me, or if I'm doing it for my friends. I miss them a lot, and I question my motivation for either one of my choices. I am going to have to stick to the hand I've dealt myself, and somehow float through time for awhile. I won't know I've made the wrong choice until after it's done, and it's a risk I have to take.

I have to stop now. I'm expecting a phone call...