“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…..

 

“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,.

 

 

 

 

“Sweet, sweet heart of mine I’m gonna break again a million times. Is this true or gone. Have you turned to stone?”

Do you ever want to do holiday analogies? Like Santa Claus is to the Grinch as Cupid is to ___________.  Like the guy who would go around and steal all the jewelry out of boxes before a guy presents it at an overpriced cheesy dinner. Okay, I’m bitter. Had a date last night right in the area where CS and I hung out. The bar was actually at the restaurant directly behind where we had our first date. Then on the way home I had to pass the Mexican restaurant we would go to, and the hotel we fucked in, and the tavern where he asked me to be his girl.  That tavern is what this week’s blog post is on. Or rather the guy who runs the tavern.

DR and I were a Tinder match a few months ago.  He and I had a lot in common, being that we were both in the restaurant business. I failed, however, at finding out exactly which restaurant.  We had a decent date, went back to his place, listened to music, where I introduced him to my favorite non-mainstream band, Whiskey Myers.  I was super attracted to him. Until we had sex. Great kisser. Great dick. Selfish in bed.  We parted ways.

Fast forward about three or so weeks. My buddy and I went to the bar across the street from our restaurant, and there he is, sitting at the bar with his can of PBR.  We strike up a conversation, do shots of Jack Daniels ,which results in me blowing him in the parking lot after a hot make-out session.  We saw him again the week after, where he acted as if I didn’t exist. Didn’t say hello or even look my way.  Saw him again the week after, and he came over  to start talking to me, but was a total dick. Such a dick that my buddy was determined to let the air out of his tires.

Less than two weeks later I was at the tavern mentioned above. I was happy. Sitting across from the guy that was proving (I was wrong but didn’t know that at the time) to me that what DR said to me while he was being a dick was completely untrue. See DR told me that  I was the girl guys fuck but never care to date.  But at that tavern booth I was someone’s girl, and when my favorite band, Whiskey Myers, came on in the mix with all the popular music, I took it as a good sign.  Until I saw the manager going around to every table in our section but ours.  Even CS made the comment that it must be because we looked so cozy. But I knew better. It was DR.  My mistake was that I never told CS, and towards the end of our relationship, when we went there again at his suggestion, I felt like it was too late to bring it up.  I did mention to him that night that I knew the manager from my bar.

Two nights ago my co-workers and I went out to this bar and got a little trashed.  My friend turns to me and says “Look at this sexy motherfucker walking in. He’s exactly your type.”  I turned around and saw DR walking in and giving me that crooked smile. I told my girlfriend “He’s exactly my type. He’s hot and a douchebag with a beard. I’ve already had him.”  He began talking to me and bought me a beer and a shot. I thanked him, and walked back over to my friends. He came right over to my section with my friends and hung out with me the rest of the night.  He mentioned that he’d forgotten that how before we hooked up, he actually enjoyed hanging out with me and talking to me.  We caught up on things for about two hours. I asked him why he said what he did, he told me he was just making a reference to Tinder chicks in general. He told me that he’d seen me both times in his restaurant with CS, but he didn’t want to make things awkward.  He also told me that he knew we’d break up soon due to the change in our demeanors from the first time he saw us there to the last.

End of the night, he pays and asks should we leave together. I told him it was late. We ended up getting in my car, where he kissed me and asked “what now?”  When I asked what he meant, he said “well, you didn’t want to go home with me so I figured it’d be a blow job in the car.” Ahhhh….. there’s the douchebag back again.  I told him that I wasn’t giving out free blow jobs without getting anything in return. I rode him until I came twice (good thing I know what I”m doing on top because he’s still selfish),. He asked would he see me again next week. I left it at maybe.

I went home and sobbed. And messaged my guy friend (interesting fact, he’s the guy I matched with working on his Ph.D that I’d already met at my usual bar in my prior blog post. We’ve become bffs.), who told me to not cry about it, look at it like I used him. I felt so empty. Before I had sex that meant something, I was good at just using sex as a fun activity. Now I can’t.   I got off with DR, and it was intense, but at the end of the day, it comes down to I fucked a guy who told basically told me prior that I was only good for one thing.  Is the whole double standard thing still in play? Or is the best way to get  over someone not really to get under (or on top) of someone else?

I wanna be the Valentine’s Day Grinch. He had a heart ten times too small. I want one that turns to stone.

 

“I could have another you in a minute. Matter of fact, he’ll be here in a minute, baby, You must not know about me, you must not know about me. I can have another you by tomorrow. So don’t you ever for a second get to thinking you’re irreplaceable”

When I was twenty-one I had my appendix out. My surgeon was not that great and he left me a few abdominal scars. Every once in awhile, these scars will still be uncomfortable.  Not painful, just annoying. I think that’s the way it is with broken hearts. In the beginning, as soon as your heart starts to heal, you feel the pain like it is ripping apart. With time, you no longer feel like you’re going to split right open and cry,  but something will happen and you feel the tug at the scar once again.

CS gave me my closure call a little over a week ago. We had a civil conversation, decided to remain in contact and see what happens, i.e. if we could develop a friendship.  He apologized, which I appreciated.  He also said he didn’t think we’d ever see each other again.  Our main communication since we’ve broken up had been through Snapchat. I blocked him a few days ago because every time I see his name, it hits me in the gut that I was again passed over for someone else.

The same day I blocked him, I decided to dive head first back into dating again.  (It’s been harder for me to find a date this time than it was previously. My heart was not in it. Fear of rejection).  My first date was a guy named RS. We chatted all day and discovered he worked right down the road from my restaurant. He came in at the end of my shift. Now, this is how I know I wasn’t ready to do this. I’m a very girly-girl. I love makeup, hair, clothes, and shoes. I met this guy in my t-shirt and jeans and those god awful non-slip shoes.  He was pretty. All my co-workers could not stop staring at him.  But I’m not attracted to “pretty boys”.  We had a few drinks. Made out in the car for a few minutes. He texted me when he got home, I never texted back. (Is this considered ghosting? After one date?) My work friends were in shock. But again, I’m a firm believer in chemistry.

I did something I never do. I matched with a guy who I could barely see on a pic, but loved his profile.  We chatted for a bit on a messenger app. He told me that he was from the next state over but here about once a month working on his Ph.D. He then told me he was married but was just looking for friends to hang out with, nothing sexual necessarily, just friends. I told him I’d have to think on that one. He then continued to hound me to the point where I had to block him on the dating app and the messenger site. Fast forward two days later to Friday. I am at my usual bar. A guy comes over and starts talking to me. A really, really cute guy who’s just my type.  We talk and I introduce myself , to which he replies we’ve met once a month since October and I’ve introduced myself to him every time.  Now, I’m a bit of a drinker but I think I’d remember meeting someone four times.   TM proceeds to tell me how he comes to this bar once a month. When he’s in town. From the next state over where he lives.  Because he’s working on his Ph.D.   Fuck.  This can’t be a coincidence.  So I unblock the dude on the messenger app and send a message and looked across the bar, and saw him check his phone immediately after I sent the message.  I went back up to him and said “soooo…..”, to which he responded “I’ve got a date coming here. Please don’t tell her I’m married.”  Uh, that’s on you homeboy. Come to find out, he met Tandy in October, so it’s possible I could have met him then. I don’t think he was stalking me to my bar. I do, however, believe that he knew it was me when we matched.  He actually had a bit to drink and turned out to be a dick, who tried to convince me to do a threesome with his date. To which I declined.

And last night. The story of how my being spontaneous turned out to be reckless. And I was actually scared.  I matched with YR Saturday morning. We had no conversation all day beyond agreeing to meet for a drink. I’ve never met someone without any getting to know them at all. But fun is what I needed. To be wild.  We met at the usual bar. He is 6’6 and damn good looking. I kept getting a feeling that he was a shady character. He’d spent the last three months on vacation in a foreign country, and did not work.  And drove a brand new luxury car. But I was determined to be wild.  He’d had a little bit to drink when I got there, and told me he had very low tolerance for alcohol.  We did a couple of Cafe Patron shots mixed with Baileys (great shot, it’s called a Baby Guinness).  When I was on my second drink, he pulled me near him and said “Let’s get out of here and go fuck”, to which I agreed, on the contingency we use a condom.  We ended up parking in front of his house and hooking up in the back of my car with third row seating folded down. (I don’t know why I’ve never done this, it’s actually as much room as a bed.)  If I thought NFL player skull fucked me, it was nothing compared to YR.  CS once told me he’d had girls “tap out” before because he’s so big.  I am grateful for him right now giving me that idea, because I had to tap out. Close to ten inches down my throat and he refused to let me breathe.  And it still didn’t work.  He finally yanked me up by my hair, and asked “are you ready to fuck me now slut?”  He grabbed the condom and pulled me on top. After riding him for a few minutes, he turned me around to fuck me from behind. It lasted all of about three minutes.  I had a surprise after when I stood up to put my pants on. He’d pulled the condom off, and came inside me. Without my permission.  FUUUCCCKKK….. STD testing here I come next week.  He then proceeded to almost throw up in my car.   He got out the car, and told me he wanted to see me again the next day. I told him I just wanted to go home.  This dude could be the poster child for the guy you’re warned against on online dating. (He also called me twice this morning. I blocked).

Finally, there’s LM.  He comes off so non-douche bag. He’s also on the rebound. We’ve chatted for three days trying to get our schedules together. We’ve talked about everything under the sun. Sent pics of our kids to each other. It really scares me to see myself opening up again so fast. I’ve blocked my potential emotions out but who knows when we finally meet this week? He can definitely sense that I’m starting to back off from him. Spacing out our texts more and more. Am I ready?  I guess it’s just a leap of faith.

It’s been a fun week. Or at least an interesting one.

“We’re like fire and gasoline…I’m no good for you, you’re no good for me…”

 

Unless you’ve ever experienced the kind of chemistry CS and I  had, it’s hard to describe. We were never able to keep our hands off each other, even in public. Our first date, we ended up in the same booth at a restaurant, with his hand down my pants, and he almost gave me my first public orgasm. On our third date, CS and I both took a Friday off. We went to a local brewery and spent about eight hours drinking beer.   At the end of the night, we were approached by the owner who told us “If you don’t tone it down, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You guys are being lewd.”   This week, I had a couple come into the bar/restaurant where I work. This couple sat at the bar for six hours and told me that this was in the middle of where they lived, and they could not visit each others houses.  Exact same situation. By the end of the night, she was straddling him on the bar chair.  Since there were no kids near, I smiled and told the manager to just let it go.  Because I get it. And my body is craving that chemistry. And witnessing that situation, made the hurt come back just a little. I didn’t cry. But I did proceed to go out and do fireball shots with my new bar peeps to numb the ache of the scar that’s just beginning to heal.

When fire and gasoline meet, the chemistry of both components skip the spark stage all together and move straight toward an explosion. It’s hot, it’s dangerous, and it burns out quickly.  And then what’s left is embers that still smolder. CS was the gasoline, I was the fire.  He burned through me and moved on.  But I’d still give anything to feel him inside me one last time. (break up sex anyone?).  I don’t even like him as a person anymore.  But I’m craving that pure, physical chemistry.

My advice to the couple at the bar would be to slow it down.  Spend a day with no alcohol and just having fun with each other.  Don’t do anything  but kiss.  Because when you ignite too fast, you burn the entire house down.

 

“was gettin’ some head head Gettin’, gettin’ some head I was wit the kinda girl that make ya toes pop Super head what’s good? Super head what’s good? Super head”

The first fight is almost as important as the first kiss.  Where the first kiss sets the tone on if there will be a future relationship, the first fight will either send you down the yellow brick road for swiping (because along the online dating track you for sure will end up seeing munchkins, a cowardly lion, a tin man with no heart, and plenty of scarecrows with no brain) or make you stronger (but if I’m making Wizard of Oz references, wasn’t it SHOES that got Dorothy what she wanted? Glinda the Good Witch didn’t wave a wand to get a man to appear.) CS and I had our first major fight that dragged on for three days.  The fight began because of something he said after the first time I gave him a good finisher.   He’s one of the smartest guys I’ve ever met, so him to say something like he did without thinking made me wonder: do we, as women, have superpowers that turn a man’s brain to mush as soon as we drain them? Turns out, we kinda do.

I found an article regarding how a man’s brain changes after orgasm. A group of scientists scanned men’s brains both before and during orgasm and found that his cerebral cortex (the actual thinking area above their shoulders) shuts down during and about fifteen minutes after orgasm due to chemical release (Daily mail reporter, 2012). Which also makes me wonder could this be a reasoning behind the expression of fucking someones brains out. Also in today’s biology research, I learned that when men are dehydrated, their jizz is thicker.  Meaning, we give ourselves huge pats on the back thinking “Wow, I could really teach a class in this shit. I’m going to enter the porno Olympics and win a gold in blow jobs!”, but it has nothing at all to do with our performance.

So I guess we should cut them some slack. I guess that blood truly does rush to the dick….

 

 

Daily Mail Reporter. 2012. Too Tired For Pillow Talk: The Reason Men Don’t Talk After Sex. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2177158/Sorry-darling-I-just-help-How-scientists-real-reason-men-fall-asleep-sex.html