“‘Til it happens to you, you won’t know. It won’t be real. No it won’t be real. Won’t know how it feels”

All around social media these days is “women’s rights” posts, and stories from different women on how their rights have been violated and how we are going back fifty years in this country. I am a total pro-choicer. I also never believed in blaming the victim. I know I’ve put myself into some precarious situations in my time, and I have been lucky so far. But it’s amazing to me how a lot of old school society has the mentality of “if she doesn’t want THAT kind of attention she shouldn’t wear that that” or “she knew she was a slut when she spread her legs.”   I just experienced that mentality. And at the hands of another woman.

I love Annie. She’s a no holds barred kinda gal in her fifties. She gives no nonsense advice and tough love as a former corrections officer and now bartender. We’ve been close.   She also warns me that I shouldn’t say things to “set KJ off” since he’s going through recovery and I should learn to zip it when it comes to talking back to him. I can handle that.  At our bar two weeks ago, she had another friend come out and get me to bring me inside because I was outside alone talking to two male regulars on the patio, whom I’ve known for awhile now. I told her “what? they’re my friends” to which Annie replied “No Ellie. They just want to fuck you. That isn’t going to look good to KJ.” (On a side note, I told my boyfriend about the situation-minus they want to fuck me part- and he just shook his head and said “Babe, I trust you a 100 percent and I know them. It’s okay.”) Annie always tells me “Girl, you got a sexy motherfucker and you need to make sure you do whatever you need to do to keep him, and that includes only talking to females.”

A few days ago, we were in a group after closing time at our bar congregated outside. TY (previous post from long ago–I hooked up with him before KJ and I were official because I was mad at KJ. It was childish and I’m not proud),  decided to hang around with us. I didn’t speak to TY all night, but he decided to hug me and grab my ass in front of Annie and my young, guy friend and manager PJ. I told TY, no, that was unacceptable.  He followed me to my car in the shadows where he pressed me against the back and forced a kiss. I got my head away and yelled “Get the fuck off me!”  TY stuck his hands under my shirt and I managed to squirm away and use the remote to unlock my door. He blocked me from getting in my car and said “you’re not leaving before we have a little fun” , while trying to force his tongue in my mouth and groping me between the legs. I managed to elbow him out the way and get in my car, where he tried again until I was able to finally use my knee and push him out.  I was yelling the whole time.

After this five or six minute ordeal, I was shaken. I pulled up where PJ and Annie were. They didn’t see what happened but PJ made the comment that he was coming over there if I would’ve yelled one more time.  I responded ” You should’ve come over there after I yelled the first time”.  PJ told me that I should know better and I should be leaving before last call with a guy from our group walking me out.   Annie proceeded to lecture me. She said “Ellie, this is what I’ve been trying to tell you. This shit happens when you talk to men. You hugged him so you let him believe that this was okay. You’ve given up to him before so he figured it was okay to just take it because you’re easy. ” I was stunned. How the fuck is almost getting assaulted my fault?  And both of you heard the whole thing and let it go on because maybe I ‘deserved’ it for acting easy?  Annie goes on to say “What if KJ finds out?” I answered “what if he does? I did nothing wrong. I’m not telling him because I don’t want him to go ballistic on TY, not because I’m guilty of anything.” Annie says “Why would you want to put him or us in this situation? Of having to protect you because you didn’t listen and you want to talk to all these men.”   Tears filled my eyes and I walked off.

You see, I was sexually abused by my mom’s boyfriend from the ages of 6-10. Most of my childhood is one big blackout where I’ve repressed most of it. When I finally told my mom at age ten, I told her it had only just happened twice recently to protect her. I’ve never told her the truth through this day.  He got pled down because I didn’t confess the amount of years I endured. And because my hymen was still intact because everywhere he touched me was external and there was never penetration.  And his family was affluent. And no one would listen when I tried to tell them the abuse was mostly because he made me do things to him. My first road head experience was at aged 8 for example.  And no fucking jail time. Community service and required counseling. I just had the same punishment for a goddamn traffic ticket. But that’s as in detail as I’ll get about any of that kind of trauma.

So me getting blamed for having my ass and vagina and boobs grabbed without my consent brought back the feelings of ten year old me. For some reason it was my fault and I’d asked for it because I gave out free hugs.  And for two days I’ve been holding all these emotions in with no one to express them to.  No one in my new life knows any of this, I left all that back home when I left my home state.  But now it’s all on the surface again.

It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault. I have had to replay that as a mantra to talk to my ten year old self and the me in my 40’s. I left home so I wouldn’t have to face my abuser again. Now, it looks like I’m going to have to avoid my bar.  Why do they fucking win?

“Hate me today. Hate me tomorrow. Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you.”

Lying on my right side, a hand on my boob, beard nuzzling the back of my neck. Then just two days after, the voicemail saying “Ellie, this is fucked up, how you treat me. You’re dead. I”m done. I don’t give a shit”  because I didn’t answer the phone after 18 missed calls. The conflicting emotions of both detachment and being crazy about him.  Yep, KJ is back. He’s been back for about a week but I’ve been processing so much the words wouldn’t come for the blog. I’ve also worked on this post for a week, but the highs and lows have me constantly changing themes, so I’ve decided just to go straight with what’s happening.

Rewind to eight days ago, when I get a number from a phone number that I don’t recognize.  Then a voicemail that I listened to ten times, because I had resigned myself to the fact that he was gone, and it was for the best. “Ellie, it’s KJ. This is my new number. Hit me up. Need to talk to you.”  He sounded well. Told me he’d moved back in with his mom (about forty minutes away from me) temporarily while he straightens up. He got a job at a really nice restaurant. He wants to meet me in two days and is willing to drive my way to talk.

I see him. He tells me he wants an actual date, more than just hanging out at the bar, getting drunk, and fucking.  He sounds better than he has in weeks. We actually begin texting throughout the day and talking on the phone at night. Discuss how things might work since we no longer work or live near each other.  Agree to take turns making the trip.

Friday night comes and we both have to work at our jobs. The plan was for me to come to him (and meet his mom possibly…eeek), and have a drink with his new work friend. I got off later than expected but still made the drive. I talked myself into ending it all the way there. And then of course I saw him,  We had the best time and the best conversation ever. He tells me how he went out a few nights prior and met a 21 year old girl with big boobs who gave him her number, and how he could have fucked her that night, but instead he went outside and called me (he did in fact, call me five times that night while he was out). He told me he realized that she might be a lot younger, and for that-could be technically considered hotter, but she wasn’t me.  She wouldn’t be as good in bed. Or as smart as me. Or as witty. Or as fun. I fall into these words, as the past two years anyone I’ve grown to care about has always passed me up for someone “better”. For once, I have a super hot guy that thinks I’m out of his league.  He again accuses me of being closed off and tells me that’s not fair to him when he’s such an open book.

*Kiss*

“My favorite color is royal blue”

“Blue is my favorite color”

*Kiss*

“My favorite show of all time is Dexter.”

“I threw the remote after watching the last episode I was so invested.”

*Kiss*

“Virgo”

“Pisces”

It was a chick flick kinda scene. Complete with the funniest sex I’ve ever had. (Story for later but it has to do with KJ almost suffocating in an Easter basket.

We talk on the phone Saturday. He’s supposed to come my way on Sunday. I’m working (he knows this) and my phone begins ringing at about 5 PM. After thirteen missed calls, I pick up.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Work”

“Are you sure?”

“uh, yeah. Pretty sure.”

“You’re not at work.  Don’t even fuck with me Ellie”.

I hang up. My heart drops. He sounded so out of it. I receive a voicemail that says “I can’t believe you are fucking doing this to me, knowing what I’m going through. You’re dead to me. I’m done. I don’t even give a shit anymore.”  The funny thing is, I didn’t even react. I was expecting it.  He calls back at around 10:30 sober, didn’t even remember leaving the voicemail. As all addicts are, he was extremely remorseful.

Monday night, he surprised me by showing up at our usual bar before I got off work.  We had no drama. He was himself. It was the first time we really acted like a couple. He played pool, I hung out with my friends. We’d pass each other and give each other a kiss on the lips and an “I love you”.  These young girls were talking to him, so he’d put his arm around me and give me a kiss on the forehead for reassurance that he’s not interested in them.  He makes the comment that he can look at my boobs all he wants because they’re now his.  We kiss a lot. He tells me he wants to chill now with our life. He wants to cuddle on the couch and watch Dexter and eat pizza, just be a couple. (I never agreed that we are a couple but everyone else calls us that so I guess I’m going with the flow.)

Last night, he sends me a text that literally says “Ksssneds%%” . Sinking feeling is back. I say huh? He says “where are you?” I say “home”.  He responds “good, I like to hear that.” He follows up ten minutes later with another “where are you?”, in which I say “wtf? see above. I’m home.”.  He calls, and I ignore. I get another scary, slurry voicemail “Baby, call me. Please. Thank you.” I ignore it and text him that we’d talk the next day, That we need to talk.

The highs and lows are a new level of chaos. What’s screwed up is that I was upset that he didn’t keep calling over and over, because at least I know he’s safe when he does that, as annoying as it it.  Everyone knows that he’s dragging me down too. I’m mentally exhausted from the worrying and actually physically exhausted from the constant sex. Who knew I’d ever say that? I know I’ll be ready to reach the point soon where I’ll be ready to give up on him. I just feel I’m the only one left in his corner. But at what do we stop sacrificing  ourselves by being a good human being and helping someone toxic? I can’t go through what I did by losing my best friend, someone I love to addiction again. If I would have tried harder, it could have been different. So how can I give up on KJ?

 

“You’re never gonna grow up. You’re never gonna be a man. Peter Pan.”

This day is full of surprises. First of all, big shout out to CS.  Who would’ve thought that after all that,  he would be the guy friend I vent to about KJ? Second, I discovered that I’ve been in denial.  I’ve been able to talk to CS without any of the hurt surfacing. That is one of the things that proves to me what I’ve been pushing away. I’ve got feelings for KJ.  Just in time to get over him. Because he’s toxic for me. And a leopard doesn’t change his spots.  And a tiger can’t change his stripes. And Walruses still have big dicks. (Nothing to do with KJ, just a fun and random fact.)

I completely acted like I was in high school yesterday. I saw KJ flirting with a co-worker (that he claimed he fucked to another co-worker but I think that’s talking shit, she wouldn’t give him the time of day for that tho), and I lost my shit.  He also couldn’t remember that he fucked me on Monday, which a guy friend told me I need to get over, that when you’re having sex with someone almost every damn day, the days run together.  I shut him out all night at work. (CS used to tell me that shutting down was my biggest problem. Ironically, it didn’t hit me until we broke up and I’m with someone else that I realized he’s right).

KJ came in to our bar a little late and I decided to be friendly but he looked at me and said “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit Ellie.”  I bought him a beer (a good one, we ain’t talking PBR tallboys), and he complained that it was the wrong size. I bought him a shot and told him to chill and have a good time.  He told me he didn’t want to deal with me. So I did the immature thing and sought attention elsewhere.

TY is someone I’ve met a few times at our afterwork bar. Stanford graduate. Tall, smart, handsome, funny, successful. I was talking to him before KJ got there. But when KJ ignored me, I did the immature thing and went into full flirt mode.  KJ, already angry, slammed down his beer and left.  I had a pseudo hookup with TY out of anger.

I’ve regressed from partying like a college girl to playing high school games.  KJ brings out the worst in me.  He never grew up. I can see my mistakes,  I own my mistakes, and I know that this person I”m becoming isn’t me. I have to start working on myself.  And that means letting KJ go.  If only I didn’t have to see him at work. As CS told me, I knew better than to shit where I eat. (Hey, that’s kinda literal since I work in the restaurant biz.)

“Hurt so good. C’mon baby, make it hurt so good. Sometimes love don’t feel like it should, you make it hurt so good.”

Dammit…. men have it so fucking easy. Met KJ for a quick drink after work (which of course turned into a quickie. More on that in a few), and two hours later, I was crying as I was peeing.  And then I went into a rage because I swore I had something that Ajax wouldn’t take off.

It’s a urinary tract infection (thank god), and one that comes from the term “honeymoon cystitis”, and it’s from having lots and lots of sex with a new partner.  I’m going to rename mine “thot-itis”, since I can’t really consider KJ a “partner”.  KJ is also the first guy I’ve been having sex with that I haven’t used condoms with in over a year, hence my paranoia.   Looking back, we both probably should have done the STI testing BEFORE agreeing to become monogamous sex buddies.  (He offhandedly mentioned last night that he wants me to know that he’s not a cheater. See why I’m so darn confused?) It’s never too late though so I’ve got an appointment just to ease my mind at the end of the week.

There’s a reason for my paranoia. Since I started the online dating thing, I get checked regularly.  I’ve never even had HPV (which is like the common cold of STDs, errybody gets it at least once almost). I hooked up with a guy, NK, a couple of times last year without using a condom.  It just sorted faded out. Then a few months later, we reconnected on Bumble. He did the niceties first, the hellos and how ya doins, before sending me a picture.  It was a picture of a cream that I discovered upon googling, was meant for genital warts. After sending me the pic, he immediately unmatched me. I wasn’t sure if he was accusing me of giving him the virus or telling me he had it. Either way I was freaked out. I ended up testing clean.  Ironically, he contacted me asking to get together about three weeks ago, which I ignored.

So here I sit in pain from having too much sex. Who woulda thunk? Hopefully the antibiotics kick in soon, or I’ve got a feeling with KJ that my ass and mouth are gonna be really sore…..

 

“We’re on the right side of rock bottom Into you, I just keep crawling You’re the best kind of bad something ‘Cause we keep on coming back for more”

Undeclared. We state this major in college when we don’t know what we want to be when we grow up. I think by a third date or hookup we should have a checklist that pretty much answers “what are we doing?” that we hand to our partner.  KJ and I decided that we are just considered “untitled”.

Untitled can be confusing. It’s that place where you’re not committed, yet you are a little bit more than just fuck buddies.  KJ and I have this: We’ve both agreed not to fuck other people (but seriously, his dick is inside me so much at this point, we don’t have energy or time to find someone else to fuck).  We will not say that we are together, because we are both flirts (actually do it in front of each other just to piss the other one off all the time. Healthy huh?). We talk about not future.  We hang out five nights out of seven (not just sex, like we eat or play pool or have drinks).  He’s always the first to say he’s sorry. At work, I get quick hugs from behind and forehead kisses.

Yet, he’s got too many demons he’s fighting for me to fall for him. As a mutual friend said, “Ellie, I think you’re good for him but I also think he’s terrible for you.”  When I have to step back and remind myself of this, he accuses me of being defensive and weird and distant.  See, my best friend died of drug use two years ago. Mentally, I examined on how I felt about KJ and wondered if I’m trying to save him because I couldn’t save her. But as my niece says “You can’t go around playing Captain Save a Ho'”

There’s no way I should be trying to fix him.  The addictions are always going to come in front of me.   But I’ve felt so broken after CS and online dating, that I like being the strong one. And the fact that each time I think I’ve had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life happens, we top it.

For example, who knew that  a three minute orgasm would be possible? I think I literally blacked out with his head between my legs last night, which happened with the car door open because we couldn’t wait to walk the five steps to his front door.  As KJ said last night, I don’t think either of us have ever experienced such chemistry with someone else. The thing is, he says I’m a distraction everywhere: during shifts we work together, when he’s playing pool and he can still see me from across the bar.

What do you do when you are truly undeclared?  When you have 9 and a Half Weeks type of sex and a Jerry Springer kind of (non) love and a When Harry Met Sally kind of friendship?

“I need your body in ways that you don’t understand. Because I’m losing my patience. We’ve been going over and over again.”

I’m still fucking KJ. Like really fucking KJ. Like almost every day.  As in, we see each other on my lunch break from my regular job and have sex, and sometimes again that same night after I’m off from the other job.  It’s messy (the situation not the sex) and exhilarating and of course, toxic.

With CS, it was a different type of chemistry. We had extreme chemistry but there was also a mental connection. With KJ, it’s just pure animal attraction.  He’s hot and charming and just watching him interact with customers is enough for me to know that I’m going to have to have him that night.   I can’t even say KJ and I are friends with benefits or fuck buddies. Our relationship, or rather lack of one, is comprised of fucking and fighting. CS used to tell me that I’m emotionally distant.  KJ says the same, as he’s an open book but he does not know a lot about me yet.

We spent our first night together last weekend. I took him to my other regular Friday night bar (which I swore I’d never take another guy, but since we’re not together I assumed it was okay).  TM was there from out of town and I told him to come on as I wanted to see him.  I talked to him and KJ made the scene of “you’re not my girl, you’re not my property, go for it if you want.”  The night wore on and KJ got more and more jealous. We got into it of course. Then went to the parking lot and had amazing make up sex.  We decided to spend the night together and he whispered in my ear “I think I’m ready” as we were falling asleep. I didn’t respond and he made the comment that there was his answer on how I felt.

After my no answer, he was standoffish the next day and night. Made snide comments. Yet we still had sex. It was the same on Sunday. After so much togetherness, I was grateful for a break on Monday, but it gave me too much time to think.  Tuesday came and we went to our after work bar at 5. We had a LOT of liquor. By 10 PM, we were screaming at each other across the patio. I was crying. I called him an egotistical asshole. He told me to stop acting like a crazy bitch. Which in turn, caused me to act like a crazy bitch and my coworker had to carry me outside.  KJ told me all I was to him was an easy fuck.   I told him at least I was good for other things too.  By 1 AM, we were holding hands and he was telling me to chill, he loved me.  I’ve never had a screaming altercation in a bar before. I was so embarrassed that I never wanted to return.

Last night, I brought my boys to my restaurant.  This was the second time he’d met them but it warmed my heart after coming back from the bathroom and see him sitting in the booth with them showing them magic tricks.  He nuzzles me with his beard as I’m leaving, and tells me to meet him at 6PM tonight. I’m nervous to see if he remembers or shows. This is the first time we’ve ever made plans without it being spontaneous…….

This is an extreme roller coaster ride.  Dangerous, and damn it’s fun.  Except this ride comes with no seatbelts. And no rules.

 

 

 

“The only time I’ll ever call you mine. I only love it when you touch me, not feel me. When I’m fucked up that’s the real me”

Warning: Extremely graphic post. If you get offended easily stop reading right the fuck now.

I’m on my back in the back floor of my car. (Who knew that when you lay down third row seating, you get the size of a queen size bed?) I know I’m going to regret the guy the next morning licking me from ass (who knew that would be so enjoyable?) to clit.  I’m having the fourth squirting orgasm of the night from the alcoholic, cocaine addicted fuck buddy who hurt me and made me cry just hours earlier. Here’s the story of KJ, who I’m seeing again in less than an hour.

KJ and I met about a month ago.  He works for the same chain as I and was helping out at our restaurant. He’s also been friends for twenty-five years with one of my coworkers/best friends  Belle.  Belle knew we’d hit it off immediately. She was right. I finally met the male version of myself. Unfortunately, it’s another situation that the chemistry is so there that other people are feeling it around us.  Also unfortunately, we are two trains that are going to collide if it doesn’t end now.

KJ is a lot of fun. But he becomes Emo KJ when we drink. And I don’t know how to deal with an emotional man.  After going out a couple of times with the group, and an uncomfortable karaoke duet, along with hot make-out sessions, we finally went out alone.  It was a normal, not overly drunk night. Our first time was amazing.  KJ admitted that I was the best he’d had in 15 years. He also told me he loved me as I was riding him.  He took an Uber home and I picked him up for the 9 AM meeting the next morning.  We had a great time in the car. He told me he was so proud of the way we fucked he told the Uber driver, who thought it was such a great story, he refused a tip.

Fast forward to last night. KJ, Belle, and I met at our usual bar around 5:30 PM. I told Belle about what happened with KJ, and she was thrilled.  Everything was great until she jokingly called him my man. Now, I admit I was in a funk last night. Had a lot on my mind, nothing to do with KJ. But drunk KJ is cocky and paranoid.   We were playing pool with two young guys. When all of a sudden, KJ turns to one of them and says “Excuse Ellie, she’s being weird. She’s got feelings for me.” The guy says “I think she’s fine.” KJ replies” Let me tell you a story. This girl has the best pussy I’ve ever had in my life. She can squirt and suck my dick like no other.” Uh–I”m standing right here listening to locker room talk about me.  KJ also says “But she’s emotional, and I have no feelings for her whatsoever.”  To which the guy replies “Yes, you do, or you wouldn’t be trying to get a reaction out of her so bad.”  KJ and I end up in a screaming match that Belle gets in the middle of, where he accuses me of being emotionally tied to my ex and because of that I”m ruining his night. He eventually kisses my ass to apologize. I told him that I’ve had many hookups prior, but no one had ever made me feel like a whore like he had that night.

Everything was ok for a bit. And then here comes DR (see last blog post). DR and I start talking a bit while KJ is playing pool.  (KJ knows I hooked up with DR that last time, he was there that night).  I wasn’t even flirting.  But after trying to talk to KJ, who’s being a dick to everyone at that point, we started fighting again.  He accused me of acting like I”m in high school. I called him a druggie who couldn’t get his shit together. (This is all going on in front of our coworkers, to the point that Belle screamed at us to leave because we won’t knock our shit off).

We get in the car, I tell him nothing will ever happen between us again, that we aren’t even friends at this point. I said “I literally hate you right now”. To which he answers “Hate me, but I seriously love you”  That’s how I got to the beginning of the story.  And to the first guy that I’ve felt made love (not fucked) to me in years. It was sensual. Every time he’d move inside me, I’d moan and he’d shush me with a kiss or tell me to just concentrate on how it feels and listen to the music at the same time.  We came at the same time. It was beautiful.  He made the comment it was so good because the fight was so bad.

We pulled back around to the front of the bar, where we noticed all our coworkers standing out front. The guys high fived him. We all laughed about it, until he confirmed he’s actually 15 trapped in a thirty something year olds body.   A car was making noise in the parking lot. KJ looked at our coworkers and said “Ellie definitely doesn’t need WD40. She’s way lubricated.”

Is a frat boy mindset worth the great sex? I am seriously sick of swiping and he’s way convenient, Or am I just sabotaging myself yet again?

UPDATE: Saw him this morning and we had a sober conversation. He apologized, which I don’t take seriously because if we keep doing this, it will happen again.  I explained to him that I don’t need everyone we work with knowing that I’m a squirter and I like anal. He explained that he’s way damaged but wants to remain fuck buddies. I need to be able to separate the emotional sex we have from actual emotions. So the song I picked fits perfectly. I’m not going to overthink and see what happens,.