29 June 2017
Last night was my third date with Chris*. He delights me in a million ways. Intelligent and witty, funny and gentlemanly, dirty and considerate. But there’s something off. Something he’s not telling me. He tried to explain that it’s because he had some recent bad dating experiences where the women turned up unannounced at his workplace and his children’s school. I understand to an extent but there’s something not quite right. There’s nothing that if he asked I wouldn’t tell him. He won’t even tell me his surname, giving me only “Smith”.
It’s such a small, insignificant thing but it speaks volumes for how he sees me and it bugs me like a mosquito near your ear at night. Without it, I can’t google him, ensure he’s not an axe-murderer or see his professional history. How to explain that it’s just my way of wanting to know him better.
He told me late in the night, after we had spent hours fucking in the bath, the shower, on the bed, that there was something he wanted to tell me. But not yet. A lump crept into my throat, that uneasiness of something not being right, and it hasn’t really left.
He’s asked me to do things with other people, have a dirty weekend with a woman from Brisbane I’ve never met. He told me that he wanted to take me to a glory hole and watch me suck other men. I let him fuck my arse. That alone is a huge step for me and not one I’ve allowed many men to do. In fact, I’ve never let anyone do that to me in such a short time of meeting them.
I feel like I’ve opened up with Chris almost from the get go, told him things few others know. To discover that after three dates and hundreds and hundreds of messages that I can’t even know his last name is like withholding water from my hungover self. I can’t decide whether I’m being silly and over-reacting, reading more into it than there is, or whether there is something more sinister at play.
The focus of so many conversations is on sex. The push from him for us to bring in another woman, another man, both, glory holes … he’s not pressuring me as such but I do feel a certain impetus to “prove” myself by doing these things. But I don’t want it to be like that.
I love the idea of being with Chris with another woman, a couple. All the things we’ve talked about sound fun and exciting and hugely erotic for me. But I also thought it would come a ways down the track, after we had built a level of trust between us. It’s too early for me to bring in another woman and feel completely at ease that Chris is actually interested in me. I think it’s a reasonable insecurity. I’ve had threesomes and swung with partners and it doesn’t bother me because the relationship has had time to build to that point. In this case, I don’t feel we’re there yet but this constant pressure to bring in new people is disconcerting. It makes me feel needy and a bit hopeless and out of control.
I know he hates clingy, he’s told me enough stories of past dates for me to understand that he doesn’t want that and nor do I enjoy being that type of girl. But I fear that he is inadvertently playing on my insecurities, particularly as these requests are almost always made via message where I can’t determine nuance or tone.
This isn’t me. I’m not a jealous person. I’m not a clingy or needy person. In recent months, it’s been me pushing men away, not wanting more, not wanting anything from them but fun and sex.
Now I have the fun and sex and more and yet … something is off. And I know it’s because I’ve given more of myself to him than he has given to me. I don’t mean “feelings” – it’s too early for that. I’ve given him trust and it hasn’t been reciprocated and I don’t know what to do with these thoughts.
The sex last night was incredible, lasting through hours of teasing and foreplay. He understands how to make my clit hum and sing, coming again and again in a plethora ways. But this uneasiness is a big threat. I can almost feel my feelings for Chris tucking themselves away in a corner, shaking their head wildly, saying “uh uh, not me, not this time”.
I’ve let few men into my head since my separation. But the risk of remaining aloof and distant means I’m automatically reconciled to the “not relationship material” category. And I’m not sure I want that anymore.
It hurts to admit to myself that Chris might have done the same. He wants sex and fun and that’s all. I did ask him last night and he said it was untrue but when it’s consistently backed up with requests to fuck this or suck that, my mind does wonder.
I don’t like this version of me.
It’s easy to fall into a state of uneasiness when you are essentially being treated as a whore. Now that may seem harsh, and I am in no position to judge, but having such sexual freedom does have some consequences. As a single woman, in the same boat, who has had her share of sexual trysts. and is very much a sexual being, I have to admit that I have had those same feelings that you are describing. What is happening is, these requests to do these very kinky and erotic acts are usually reserved for a committed but open relationship, or in some sense where you have a certain level of security. Not having at least a surname, makes you feel cheap, easy, and VERY disposable.
There is a question that is creeping in the back of your mind, though you care not to ask it, and that is, “what if Chris decides he is done and just vanishes into thin air?” That doesn’t mean you are clingy or needy, but that it means you are expendable at any given time, when you try to go through great lengths to please him. I have been where you are, and I have enjoyed the monumental orgasmic pleasure of such a partner as him, but you have to draw the line between “gutter slut” and an actual independent woman with sexual freedom. Personally, I don’t think you like the way he makes you feel by his secrecy and sleazy requests, even though they may be exciting.
I don’t have any advice in the matter, or what steps you should take from here, I am just adding my insight and outside perspective. I hope you continue to enjoy yourself, but before you go to glory holes and invite other women in your bed for his pleasure, you should get some kind of reassurance from him that you are not just some skank he can just sport fuck with and then throw away. You are exploring your sexuality and having fun, but you shouldn’t feel uneasy about it.
Thank you so much for your comments. I already know how this story ends, as it’s from mid-2017, even though it took me many more months to erase him from my life. Everything you say is true, and I have experienced all those emotions you described. The rest of this tale will be revealed shortly and unfortunately it took me too long to accept that I was his sport fuck. But I’ve taken lessons from it and hopefully moved on.
Silly me, I didn’t realize the date of your post until just now. I regret that you had to learn such a hard lesson the way you did, and that you did end up just being a sport fuck like I feared. Like you, I learned the lessons from my experiences too, but I will say that the biggest lesson I learned that in being sexually liberated the way I am, is it comes with a price that I am not necessarily willing to pay. I am glad you enjoyed yourself as much as you did though, and the sex was incredibly orgasmic. However that being said, as women, sometimes the pleasure can cloud our judgement.
In any event, I totally enjoy your writing and honesty. You are incredibly brave,, and eloquently sexy. I look forward to more posts from you.
“Sometimes the pleasure can cloud our judgement” – truer words have never been written. Thank you for reading