I enjoy dating. I love spending time with someone one-on-one, drinking wine, flirting, talking deeply. I'm an introvert, so I prefer intimate talk with one person over making conversation with several at a party. (Wisely, I choose platonic friends that are extroverts who force me to expand my horizons socially.)
Still, I thought about cancelling my plans last night to meet a guy from Swinger'sDateClub. I've been working hard, plus I stayed out late the night before, so I worried I didn't have much energy to offer to the experience. But I hate when people flake, so I went.
I contacted this man solely based on a picture of his penis (thick, black, attached to a slender torso and cut abs) and because his profile contained no spelling or grammar errors. Honestly, a part of me hoped I wouldn't like sweet-penis, a.k.a. Shane, in person. Sure, I'd approved of the photo he'd sent of his face, and I 'd enjoyed messaging and our phone chat last week. And sure, I want a lover, but I'd really hoped to manifest a married woman, not a swinging single guy. Except, then, I saw Shane's penis and messaged him. Go figure.
My husband, Arlo, is much more at ease with me dating women. And I do feel safer sleeping with women: less chance of transmitting STD's, zero chance of pregnancy. By the way, the cute skater chick I asked out this week invited her gay-boy bestie to join us on our "date," so looks like I'm friend-zoned, at least for now.
Over two weeks of messaging and texting with Shane, a couple of times I've felt as if he couldn't quite keep me straight in his head--I joked about it whenever he seemed to forget something I'd told him. "What, are you juggling twelve women?" He just "lol"ed and said "not that many." Obviously, I don't expect anyone I sleep with to be monogamous, but I admit, at this time in my life, I'm just turned off by promiscuity. I'm pretty sure Shane, a single 40-something who put a picture of his junk on a swinger's site, has sex fairly casually. Another thing: I hate condoms and I'm not on the pill. I love to ride bareback, trusting my partner won't ejaculate inside me. I do this with Arlo, and I did a few times with Carey. I don't think I should do that with Shane, as amazing as it might feel.
Despite that, I found Shane very interesting, intelligent, and easy on the eyes. He seems willing to put in the time with me to see where it goes. We soul-kissed, nice plump lips, gentle tongue. I definitely want to see him again, and he seemed eager to see me again too, especially when I started talking about what I want in bed. Boy, did he look focused then! He admits he likes to dominate, so he's glad I like to submit, but I warned him I've had trouble with men wanting to go further than I enjoy and I 'm wary of it.
Back at home, Arlo could easily surmise I was going on a date. My details as to my plans were unusually vague, my girly clothes were laid out, plus I didn't ask him if he wanted to come. He handled it great. He wasn't withdrawn or passive-aggressive. He seemed in a good mood, actually. I pray it wasn't fake. I assured him I would be home in a couple of hours, and I was. He's off from work again tonight too so we'll have a date night together.
I haven't had sex with anyone but Arlo for about four months now. The other day he and I were making love, just plain, gentle, vanilla stuff, and he was holding my hand during my orgasm and I realized how nothing measures up to unconditional love. All the good looks and the virility and the kinky props in the world can't make up for real love, tenderness, and hours logged getting to know your lover's body.
Early 40's female, bisexual.
Last edited by LoveBunny; 03-26-2014 at 04:46 PM.