Vegas, baby!

I’ve been to Vegas three times.

For all three trips I was with ex-boyfriends.

The first time, ex-bf #1 and I were all hot and heavy and made love all weekend long.

There was a SMALL snafu with that electrical cock ring, but overall the weekend was marked with nothing but pleasure – for food, cocktails, and each other.

The second time we went he and I were weeks away from breaking up and I’m pretty sure I saw it in the stars when I woke up in the middle of the night and found him sitting in a chair, watching me sleep.

It was a much more somber trip to Vegas, that time.

My third trip to Vegas was during a road trip to Arizona.

It was fucking hot and I spent the majority of my time trying to find another couple to have fun with.

We wound up taking in the Titanic display.

It was definitely not a sexy weekend.

Lately, I’ve been thinking I want to go to Vegas again.

Just for a weekend getaway.

Check out The Strip and catch some entertainment.

Day drink.

Watch a show with naked performers.

You know, do all the things that Vegas is famous for.

I’ve never been to Vegas as a “single” woman.

I’ve always been coupled up for my trips.

And seeing as how I think Vegas is more fun when you go with friends, I would want to take my sister, Barbara, Yvonne, Marina, and Michelle with me.

Just me and a pile of sexy women having fun in Vegas.

Or The Swede.

Vegas would definitely be fun with The Swede.

It’s not rocket science

Let’s be candid.  I write a lot about sex.  And men.  And condoms.  And boudoir photos.

Judging from the topics I choose to write about, everyone thinks I get IT all the time.

Well the truth is I’m not.  All of my horizontal plans fall through.  Just yesterday I was supposed to go over Jeep’s house for a little mattress dancing.  But he had to stay and work late.  Plans cancelled.

I’m saying this so you’ll know why I’m such a wanna-be-nympho.  It’s because I’M NOT GETTING ANY.

Sure, I go on a lot of dates and I meet a lot of men, but seldom does my attraction for him and his attraction for me line up.  It’s like NASA’s Mariner space rocket – it looks good but 5 minutes after takeoff, it explodes.  Mission failure.

My girlfriend Michelle and I talked about why I put up with dating lousy guys.  She thinks my ex-boyfriend Dave was so horrible he lowered the bar for everyone.  I think I’m very clear on what I’m  looking for and I’m okay putting up with with a little entertainment while I wait for him to show up.

So for now, the blog posts and the inappropriate men stay.

I’ll keep blogging about sex even though I’m not getting any.   And I’ll blog about it once I start getting some.  And you’ll all be happy for me because it’ll probably mean I’m in love.

And I’m a kiss and tell kinda girl.

REALLY BAD DECISIONS

IMG_9409I have a friend.

We’ll call her Natalie.

Natalie and I grew up together and as we transitioned through puberty into adulthood, I noticed something.

I seemed to make very bad decisions where men were concerned whereas Natalie made REALLY GOOD DECISIONS where men were concerned.

She chose to be with men who were very solid, reliable, and kind.

She NEVER screwed up.

I chose disasters.

I once had a boyfriend who dated another woman while we were dating.  And don’t get me started on the HOLY SPECTACULAR MESS that was Dave.  I exited that relationship saying, “I now know what it’s like to love someone and get nothing in return” to which Natalie replied, “But why would you WANT to?”

The Israeli busted a nut in my face and caused temporary damage to my eyesight right before he ghosted me.  And Scott used to send me pictures of him peeing along with comments that my butt was too big and didn’t “hang” right.

My butt is PERFECT, btw.  Just saying.

I lost my virginity to a guy who literally couldn’t get away fast enough.  And in college, my FWB would drop me at the mere suggestion that another woman was interested in him.  That’s how high I rated with him.

So as you can see, I have issues selecting good men to date.

My friends and family all know this about me and try to guide me into making better decisions.  Between my friend Barbara, my sister Lisa, and my cousin Jennifer, I am GETTING SCHOOLED in proper dating requirements.

But you see the men I date.

Not a keeper among them.

And Natalie?

Well, she went and married my brother of all things.

What did I say?

EXCELLENT taste in men!

 

 

I met someone

That’s right, I met someone and I’m a little bit emotional over it.

We talk for hours on the phone.  He’s funny.  And witty.  And thoughtful.

And I haven’t met him in person yet.

But in a way, he’s everything I think I want – tall, handsome, thoughtful, generous, kind, smart, good with kids, funny, etc.

It remains to be see how he treats the waitstaff.  I have a firm “be kind to the waiter/waitress” rule.

We’re going out on February 14th for our fist date.

Yes indeed.  Our first date will be on Valentine’s Day.

I have no idea where we are going or what we are doing, but I hope it’s fabulous.

He already knows some of my secrets –  like my love of nude beaches, my wild child past – and he still is interested in me.

So far, so good.

He’s trying to introduce a little spontaneity into his life and what better way than with me… Ms. Spur-of-the-moment-brilliant-ideas?!

Maybe he’s not as wild as my “usual” type but that could be a very good thing for me.  I need a rock to anchor me.  To balance out my tendency to go floating off into the atmosphere.

But the absolute best part of this is that he’s a lumberjack.  That’s right, he’ 6’4″ tall and has a beard.

Oh baby!

How I Came to OM

You learn things from everyone you date. The things you learn linger long after the relationship ends. And even though you may resent the individual, when their passion becomes your passion, you are forever resigned to acknowledging their role in it for a lifetime to come.

Such it was with Jay and cocktails/spirits.

So it is with Dave and OMing.

I first heard about OMing from my ex-boyfriend Dave, a professor with 4 advanced college degrees, Dave was brilliant. Handsome. And experimental. He was testing his boundaries and discovering new interests. Let me tell you that OMing was one of his tamer interests.

One day he told me about Orgasmic Meditation.

“So there’s this finger and this clit…” He tried to demonstrate to me how my perception of sensation was dulled.

I laughed. Called him crazy. But okay, I’ll try most anything.

So we OMed.

It was awkward. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing. Supposed to be feeling. Was this realty going to last 15 minutes? What if I climaxed? What if I didn’t?

When it was all over I thought it was just another crazy activity that he tried. I called it diddling his life away.

But something stuck with me – the feeling of connection. Something I was sorely in need of.

And so it only took me 5 years (and 2 failed relationships) to screw up the courage to take my OM Basics course.

And the rest is history.

Hairpulling

hairpulling1I am a big fan of hair pulling. Like A BIG FAN.

The irony is that I didn’t discover how much I like hair pulling until I was 35 and my ex-bf Dave pinned me up against a door, melted into me, grabbed a fistful of hair, and gently pulled.

I remember I’d just challenged his manhood. I can be mouthy like that sometimes.

He proved himself more than capable of handling me with that one move.

I went wild.

It was only the third time that I experienced that in-the-moment rush of hormones with something new.

The other two? Toe sucking and handcuffs. You’ve heard about the toe sucking here. I’ll write about the handcuffs later.

So you can imagine my surprise when Joe, my date from last Saturday, pulled my hair and figured out one of my weaknesses so quickly.

There we were, standing on the freeway overpass when he reached up, buried his hand in my hair, and yanked.

Oh. My. God.

I went wild again.

He did it occasionally from time to time for the rest of the evening. And every time, I felt a rush of hormones run through my body. To all the tingly places.

“Do you like it rough?” he asked.

I didn’t answer. It’s impossible to say yes or no when the answer is I like it all, not just rough. Also sweet. And funny. And experimental. I like the buffet.

“Sure you do,” he replied. “I can tell.”

As much as I love him acting like my top, I can’t help but wonder how appropriate he is for me.

The question bothered me. As if he wanted to figure me out, label me, and apply some formulaic love making routine on me based on his assessment/my response to him. It’s not that simple. It never is.

Hair pulling does not a lover make, although it’s certainly a nice start.

hairpulling5 hairpulling4
hairpulling3 hairpulling2

 

It’s not rocket science

Let’s be candid.  I write a lot about sex.  And men.  And condoms.  And boudoir photos.

Judging from the topics I choose to write about, everyone thinks I get IT all the time.

Well the truth is I’m not.  All of my horizontal plans fall through.  Just yesterday I was supposed to go over Jeep’s house for a little mattress dancing.  But he had to stay and work late.  Plans cancelled.

I’m saying this so you’ll know why I’m such a wanna-be-nympho.  It’s because I’M NOT GETTING ANY.

Sure, I go on a lot of dates and I meet a lot of men, but seldom does my attraction for him and his attraction for me line up.  It’s like NASA’s Mariner space rocket – it looks good but 5 minutes after takeoff, it explodes.  Mission failure.

My girlfriend Michelle and I talked about why I put up with dating lousy guys.  She thinks my ex-boyfriend Dave was so horrible he lowered the bar for everyone.  I think I’m very clear on what I’m  looking for and I’m okay putting up with with a little entertainment while I wait for him to show up.

Might as well be entertained until he shows up 🙂

So for now, the blog posts and the inappropriate men stay.

I’ll keep blogging about sex even though I’m not getting any.   And I’ll blog about it once I start getting some.  And you’ll all be happy for me because it’ll probably mean I’m in love.

And I’m a kiss and tell kinda girl.

I actually made out with a man and then…

You will not believe what I just did.

I was sitting in Dave’s BMW in my driveway. I was impressed by his car. It’s lovely and wonderful and sexy. I’m also impressed by Dave. He is sexy and smart and funny.

So we have a great night watching the sun set over the Los Gatos Mountains at the Testarossa Winery. Then we had a wonderful dinner at a local Thai restaurant. And we laugh as we realize he’s the introvert and I’m the extrovert (shocking, I know). And he laughs at all my jokes and witty comments. And I’m amazed at the fact that even though I’m not being overtly sexual, he still seems to like me.

And isn’t that AMAZING?!

Only I blew it.

Actually, I BLEW IT!

It was terrible.

We kissed for 10 minutes before we said goodnight. I got out of his car and walked to my front door. And as he was driving away I said, “Goodnight DAN!”

Oh eff!

What did I just say?

“Goodnight Dave,” I corrected. But it was too late.

How late?

We’ll find out but I’m thinking I won’t hear from him again.

And I would deserve it.

EFFING DAN!!!!

 

UPDATE: I texted Dave and asked him to forgive me.

“Sorry I called you Dan. I hope you forgive me. XO”

“I forgive you. You can make it up to me next time. Thank you for a wonderful night. I had fun.”

Oh excellent.

“If I can lure you over to my house, I have a bottle of Bowmore that will be waiting for you to enjoy,” he texted.

“You don’t need Bowmore to lure me over,” I replied.

“Good then. I can’t wait to see you here. Have a good night.”

Ta da! And Michelle skates free of her mixup and wins the DO-OVER!

Flirting with danger

photo(23)Well, of course I haven’t taken my own advice. Because I am helpless to resist temptation.

Him: I think we should wait a month before getting involved. Get to know each other.

Me: Good luck with that! Make sure you don’t stand too close to me or all your good intentions will go out the window.

Him: I’m open to negotiations.

Me: I’m waiting with baited breath….

Him: You breathe out. I’ll breathe you in.

I don’t even know what that means but it did all sorts of things to my insides. I immediately suspected that a line had been used on me. I hated myself for reacting to it.

Me: Have you said that before? Because it’s good.

Him: Nope. Never, actually. It’s fresh, for you.

And although I am enjoying the flirting and the things happening to my insides, I suspect that just like the others who came before him, I am completely and totally unavailable in any meaningful way.

And for the first time in 6 months, ever since my ex walked into our friends’ pyrate party with his new GF draped all over him and clad in vinyl Oakland hooker boots DELIBERATELY trying to make me feel bad, I think I know why.

I am still hurt.

Dating Michelle = Exercise in Futility