I’ve spent a busy week gettin’ busy. Yup, more sluttiness below. Hold on to your hats, folks.
On Tuesday, the Irish guy came to visit me for the first time in months. I’ve had mixed feelings about him but I suppose ultimately I give into the fact that we have good sexual chemistry. I’m not entirely convinced he’s in an open marriage, but I’m not entirely convinced that he’s not either. Anyway, when he showed up at my place I was in a sexy, red lingerie number and we started making out immediately. For me this is really just a sex thing so I don’t feel the need to waste time hanging out - let’s just get right to it! We fooled around a bit and then I decided to get my strap on since he’d been begging me to use a strap on with him. He lubed up his butthole and lay back on the bed. Now I don’t have a lot of strap on sex, so I’m not overly confident in my abilities, but I think he liked it. Oh yeah, he liked it. He’s very into talking dirty, and he likes to ask things like, “Is that the tightest ass you’ve ever had?” I’ve only done one guy with a strap on before (but have used a dildo in a man’s ass and used a butt plug with my strap on harness) so my anal-strap on experience is limited. (I haven’t even fucked women with a strap on much.) But I think I managed okay. *grin* He didn’t come from it but he got very worked up.
It’s been a few days so the details are fuzzy, I remember more clearly what I got up to last night but that’s a different entry. Stay tuned.
We fucked at one point, and then he played with me with my favorite dildo. I didn’t squirt just then, but a little while later he was trying to finish himself off and he asked me to play with the dildo in front of him and so I did. I fucked myself good and squirted a whole puddle on the bed. Needless to say, he got off watching this.
We hung out talking for a little while, but I’m so not into things with him emotionally I kept wondering when he was going to leave because I was hungry and while I could have gotten him to pay for lunch I didn’t feel like having lunch with him! After he left I took myself out to lunch and enjoyed the time with the latest Harry Potter book. I can be such a man sometimes - lol - “Ok, we’ve fucked, see ya later!”
Addendum: I forgot to mention how he’s kinda rough with me, and I like that. He bit me various times and it wasn’t until the next morning that I noticed a nice bruise above one of my breasts. It’s been a while since I’ve had a hickey!
The past two days I’ve mostly felt sane although tonight I’m feeling a bit depressed and agitated. I see my psychiatrist early tomorrow morning. While feeling normal for the past day, I’ve wondered if maybe I had made a big deal out of nothing. But in fact I hadn’t made a big deal out of it, I just mentioned this insanity to my therapist and she got very worried. It’s in my nature to feel bad about people worrying about me. After all, I’m not used to my own mother worrying much about me, so I’m used to just flying below the radar and suffering alone. I did tell Davey about all this the other night and he’s been expressing concern. And while it’s comforting to know that someone cares (and my therapist and shrink both called when it seemed like I hadn’t gotten back to the shrink, but in fact I had spoken to his receptionist about making an appointment) I hate people worrying about me. I think it might stem from some feeling of not being worth worrying about. Or some self-conscious response to feeling like a bug under a microscope. Yeah I think self-consciousness is the reason. I expect that people are now watching me, waiting for signs of craziness. And I’m afraid I might show them. I guess that deep down I don’t hate people worrying about me, I just hate the feeling of self-consciousness that goes along with it.
I’m tired of feeling like a broken human being. I’ve felt like this for so long. And just when I feel like I’ve gained some normalcy the depression comes back and I’m back where I started.
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I’ve been contemplating why I slept with the Irishman this week. After all, I don’t feel like I’m getting much out of it since all he ever talks about is sex and that’s clearly all he’s after. But I realized that I get a sense of power over having a man want me as much as he wanted me on Monday. There’s some level of control being this object of desire and this sense of worth that comes from it. It’s fucked up for sure, but I felt powerful after fucking him. I felt like his orgasm was in my hands, had I not decided to play along he would have gone unsatisfied. And I like that feeling of power.
I’d much rather be friends with someone I fuck, but for now I think I’m going this route with the Irishman because it feels good to be sexual for a change and to make a decision about my sexuality (when it feels like the assault made my decisions for me for the past two years). I don’t feel entirely good about it, but I suppose I am getting something out of it - a sense of power, however fleeting.
In stark contrast to the post before this, I had a good time today with the Irishman. I was very nervous as I feel like I still don’t know him as well as I’d like to, but typical me I gave in to my sexual urges anyway. The situation with him is clearly just sexual but I don’t know that I mind that. I wish he was in better shape than he is but he’s damn good with his fingers. He’s very passionate and I like that. While he wasn’t the best I’ve had, he was enjoyable. I’m happy to be slutting it up again. *grin* (I also got down with Davey this weekend a couple of hot, hot times. And what’s good is that I feel like my old, wanton self - I keep gradually getting more and more back to feeling like ‘me’ again.)
I did have a “mortifying moment” today though. I had an upset stomach this morning (nerves) and while I thought I took care of everything I discovered ’skid marks’ on the bedsheets after he fingered me. Yikes. EMBARASSING! Horrifying. I didn’t want to point out that I squirted because the skid marks were right there along with the puddle. Gross! I felt freaked out but if he noticed (I’ll bet he did) he didn’t say. Argh! How awful for the first time you’re with someone to be a time when something gross and embarassing happens. And then a little later, because my muscles bear down when I come, I think a wee bit was er, coming out my butt. Eww! He stopped fingering me kinda abruptly and things seemed a little out of sorts down there when I used the bathroom shortly after. I just wanted to fall through the floor! Still, he didn’t say anything and didn’t seem weirded out by me, so either it wasn’t as monumental as I think it was or even if it was he wasn’t freaked out by it. *sigh* This is real life folks. It’s not as smooth and mess-free as the porn flicks would have you think. Gah! I’m still horrified by this. So this afternoon was a strange combination of hot and horrifying. lol I’d prefer if it was just hot.
My region has just had record rainfall. House upon house on my block is flooded. Roads are closed. It’s been an adventure getting anywhere today (and wouldn’t you know I had the appointment to get the stitches out of my gums all the way across the county). I spent the morning getting to my periodontist’s office and back again. I’m really glad that I live on the second floor of a house, and not in a basement apartment! It’s supposed to rain a bit more for the next few days. I just want it to stop! All this makes me kinda glad I’m not currently a homeowner. I don’t need the headache of a flooded basement.
I chatted online with the Irishman for a bit yesterday afternoon. I’m not feeling quite so negative about him now. Not that we talked about anything deep or meaningful, I just have less reservations than before. I worry that I can’t tell any more what’s my instinct telling me to be careful, and what’s paranoia and mistrust from having been assaulted. And I have been a bit paranoid about things. (Thinking that hey, maybe this guy is friends with the one who assaulted me and this is some big plot to harm me again. I mean, what are the odds of that!?) While I was overdue to be a little less trusting, now I feel like I can’t trust anyone new. I’m a mess in some ways. Much better in other ways but I still have a way to go.
Damn it, I was right. The Irish guy is married. My librarian senses were tinging and I just knew it somehow. He claims he’s in an open relationship - I don’t know if I can trust that but I figure that he’s the one doing the cheating, not me, if he is cheating, so I’m not going to worry about it. (And I’m archiving his email that says he’s in an open relationship should the question ever come up.)
I fooled around with a married guy off and on back in my 20’s and unfortunately it ended with this wife calling me at work to confront me about it. I lucked out that it was a day when much of the office was away at an off site meeting. But I was pretty shaken. Yes, I had known the guy was married. Not initially - initially he claimed he was separated and had this fantastical story about his wife leaving him. I found out on the phone that day with his wife that that separation had never occured.
I really hope the Irish guy isn’t lying. Although one does have to wonder why it took a few weeks, and me asking specifically, to find out he’s married. *sigh* I had a dream the other night with the Irish guy I had dated before where I went to meet up with him somewhere during the summer and was waiting and waiting, getting bitten by mosquitoes, when he finally calls to say that he can’t make it, and over the course of the call it comes out that he really only wants me for sex.
Telling, eh? Or possibly just old anxieties coming to the fore. After all, in real life that guy cheated on me and then dumped me when I was understanding about the cheating. Fucker.
That same night I had that hot dream with the Latina, so I can only hope that pans out like my dream!
My plot thickens.
I’ve calmed down from the other day. It’s just that encountering asshole’s name unexpectedly had triggered feelings from the assault all over again and made me super-anxious. Thankfully I’m moving past that. Thankfully I’m medicated!
I spent time at the NY Comic Con today - great way to spend a workday! Got lots of free stuff. I tried to get the Irishman to come visit me tonight but he can’t get away. Drat. I want to shag him! (I have put forth the question, “Are you truly single?” in an email to him as I remembered a date I had about a year and a half ago with a guy I met on a poly site who it turned out was married and hadn’t convinced his wife of polyamory yet. I figure even though his profile says he’s single, it never hurts to ask. I have no interest in helping someone cheat. I really hope he is single though. *crosses fingers*)
Davey’s going to a concert tonight so I have the place to myself. But never fear, getting back into my slut ways, I thought to call my friend Saajan who I haven’t shagged in nearly two years now. It’s way overdue I tell you. Plus he has a new place I haven’t visited yet and I owe him a visit. I really hope we shag. *grin* Davey’s said he’s happy to outsource some sex to an Indian. 
Yes, I’m getting back to my slutty ways. A little tentatively at times, and definitely with more of an eye towards safety than before, but the old me is coming back. I’ve been insanely horny lately. Almost like the last two years when I didn’t feel all that horny has been stored up and is all coming out now. Davey’s a little scared. *grin* Next thing you know he’ll be calling my friends with benefits to set up playdates for me. Hee hee.
I had a cool dream with the Latina in it last night, we were making out on a sofa at what was supposed to be her place. Hot! Funny thing is, as it was a dream, she didn’t look a thing like herself. Pity. She was still cute though.
TGIF!
I had lunch with the Irish guy again, where else, in an Irish pub in the city. We both indulged in fish and chips and a couple of pints of beer and a considerable amount of flirting. I’ve decided he’s definitely shaggable. He has the right balance of being a nice guy and a pervert. I like nice guy perverts. They’re the best kind of perverts. And the best kind of nice guys.
Physically I haven’t gotten past a couple of pecks on the lips, one at the end of the first date and one at the end of this one, but I’m keen to move it to the next level. I’ve sent him a message suggesting that we get together somewhere private next time. “*nudge nudge wink wink* Say no more!” (The Monty Python fans will get the reference.)
So the current tally - one nice guy pervert Irishman who I intend to shag, a cute Latina who I finally heard back from and still sounds promising and last night I had a really pleasant date with a nice guy who’s in an open marriage, who I hope to see again and get to know better.
I’m wildly horny this afternoon. I can’t wait until Davey gets home from work. (In fact, I started without him!) I feel like the “old me” today. Confident, secure, safe and very, very sexy. It’s a good feeling. I hope it continues.
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