So I met Joe

Joe is handsome and funny.

Not exactly the tallest guy I’ve ever met, but still can hold his own in a showdown with me in 4” heels.

Joe is a diver and it excites him that I am a Rescue Diver.

Of course, he doesn’t know I haven’t dove in years because of that panic attack I had underwater caused by blood pressure changes in a too tight wetsuit hood.

Joe called me up and we chatted for a little while.

He is keen to go out and I was kind of excited too.

He’s got daughters after all and Lord knows I want to wind up with a man with daughters.

All on account of I have none of my own.

In so many ways, Joe seemed PERFECT for me.

Daughters. Adventurous spirit. World traveler. Funny.

So I showed his profile to Barbara, just to see if he could get the BARBARA STAMP OF APPROVAL.

Barbara is probably the toughest of all my friends to approve the men I date.

She’s not called The Hammer for nothing.

LOL

And that’s when it happened.

I glanced at his profile and saw “Separated” as his marital status.

As in STILL FUCKING MARRIED!

Jesus F. Christ!

Nevermind.

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

 

One great date

After speed dating Wednesday and an awful date with Mike the attorney who likes to double book his dates, on Friday I was ready to throw in the towel and call it quits to my dating life.  But I’d already made a date with Joe, and I felt like I had to keep my promise to him.  I swore one more bad date and I’d take myself off the market for a while.

But my date with Joe was in a word, superb.

I know I called him the 33 year old bearded tattooed hipster.  In reality he was just a really nice 33 year old bearded man.  No tattoos.  He hates needles.

We had a great time at the Jack Rose.  Conversation flowed freely.  Both his parents are deaf so he “speaks” American Sign Language.  He was impressed I could “speak” some too.

We talked about everything from our children to our teenage hijinks.  We had such a good time three hours passed in the blink of an eye.

We decided to go for a walk in downtown Los Gatos.  I took him to my favorite freeway overpass and we had our first kiss with the cars flying by beneath us.

The overpass shuddered beneath our feet.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

“Mmmmm,” I agreed, drunk on kisses.

“The ground shook beneath us when we kissed,” he replied.

Aw. So romantic.

We walked back to my car.  He tucked my arm in his arm as we strolled.  He admitted he didn’t want the date to end.

“Can I come over?  We can skinny dip.  I promise nothing will happen,” he said.

But the problem was I DID want something to happen.  And I can’t be trusted to behave in the face of temptation.  Especially when naked in a pool with a naked man.

I declined.  We kissed for ages.  He got to second base.  But in the end, I did go home alone.

But not for long?

Strange night

754157219_45774b89c9_zOkay.

Calm yourself.

I (accidentally) got kissed by someone at the party last night. He said he wanted to see what my lips felt like.

Oh.

Then at 5 AM, I was awakened by someone else (uninvited) climbing into the spare bed I was sleeping in.

“Wanna spoon?” he asked.

“Oh, good grief!” I exclaimed, climbed out of bed, and drove home.

The post about unavailable men

imageUnavailable men. We like to think we fall prey to them but the reality is we can spot them a mile away. So if we know what we’re getting into, why do we do it?

My first experience with unattainable men began in high school. I had a huge crush on Joe, the drummer. Tall, dark, Italian, with biceps that made my heart pound, Joe was the perfect man for me, or so I thought.

On our first, and only date, Joe leaned out his truck window to give me a kiss.

“Good night Lisa, I mean Melissa, I mean Michelle.”

Strike one. Strike two. Strike three. I’m out.

We never saw each other after that.

Fast forward 20 years and I’d met Drew. Tall (like 6’10” tall), gorgeous, and brilliant, I fell head over heels. Until I discovered he was dating couples along with me.

Enter Steve, quite possibly the brightest and biggest man I ever dated. His 56″ chest would stop my heart. Sadly, Steve lived 100 miles away in Modesto so the relationship never got off the ground.

Finally, there’s Matthew.  I met him at a winery in 2009. I locked eyes with him across the room and had an instant crush. He was like the sun and I was in his gravitational pull… along with every other woman in the room.

So why are women lured in by unattainable men? I think it’s because there’s a special spark that draws us in.  We have an organic desire to lather, rinse, and repeat.

So even though these are short-lived enjoyments, they are worth every minute we spend on them.

Unattainable men are like a drug…. they may eventually bring you down, but in the meantime they can get you so high.