What’s In A Name

I’ve always felt that being original and expressing appreciation for a person is an essential part of keeping an “old” relationship, new.  So, I spend a little time coming up with new and different names for Mac whenever I send him emails or catch him on my instant messaging client.

Now that we’ve been together for four years, I have to say that I am running out of original names.  It’s easy for him, he has resorted from the beginning of our relationship to a few names, all starting with “Baby,” like “Baby,” “Babykins….” I think that’s it.  Oh and my all-time favorite, “Lovey.”

I, on the other hand, feel peculiarly compelled to be original so that he does not get bored with me.  It’s also why I continue to do some very unpredictable things, which occasionally get me into trouble.  You know, just to keep things interesting.  By the way, I do this in my marriage too, for those who like to say, “Well, if you spent as much time, blah, blah blah.”

I’ve recently run through my entire repertoire of names, using such terms as: “Sexy Beast,” “Wonderful Lover,” “Sir Wonderful,” “My Most Amazing Lover,” “Sweetheart,” (and versions of); and now I am stumped.  It’s not common for a verbal person like me to be challenged this way, but I am.

I have always admired Victorian erotic authors for their skill in describing the most ordinary of body parts using the most flowery language, like, “his throbbing manhood” and “her porcelain globes.”   A Victorian erotic author could make a bloody wound sound like something you really wished they had included a picture of.

I think it’s time I spent a few hours with my Victorian erotica.  The benefits of doing so are bound to lead to more than just fresh ideas for salutations when greeting Mac, and given that we can’t see one another for a couple of weeks….

They’re Married…Just Not To Each Other

My husband and I went out for a late lunch yesterday.  There was a restaurant in town that seemed to be popular as there were always people in it and I figured the food must be good, though it is possible it’s just the atmosphere.

The atmosphere was definitely appealing, which explains why it is so popular.  The food was mostly appetizer, small bite type, which I often prefer as you can sample a variety of menu items without filling up on one thing alone.  It also has a bar and I love restaurants with bars as sitting at or near the bar is where one can do the best people watching.

So we sat at a tall bar table a little away from the bar counter and chatted about, among other things, having lovers and being careful to preserve the relationship we have with one another as we are both of the opinon that we are too old to start over and frankly, we like being married to one another.  I don’t think we were that careful to whisper as there was very pleasant music playing over the speakers and it was loud enough to cover conversation spoken at a normal volume.

Seated across from us, at the bar, was a couple.  He wore sunglasses virtually the entire time.  She was cute and dark and exotic and obviously about ten years younger than him.  I am always curious about people who wear sunglasses indoors, especially in the darker restaurants, so he caught my eye.  As I watched, they became deeply engrossed in conversation and gradually their bodies drifted closer to one another, till they clearly couldn’t resist each other and they were kissing passionately.

As I tend to do, when I see such passion, I looked to see if they were wearing wedding rings.  Married couples seldom display such passion, even if they kiss.  There was an air of electricity surrounding them and then of course, there was the “wearing sunglasses indoors” thing.  It was clear they were dating each other.

The wedding bands they each wore gave away their marital status, but their passion and desire for one another, coupled with the need to hide behind sunglasses in a public place, put a big grin on my face.

As one who is married and dates, I can usually spot these couples.  They’re married, just not to each other.  They’re dating…but they ought not to be.  It’s exciting to be daring…but not too daring.

Wear your sunglasses indoors!

Reasons To Keep In Touch

It seems that long after I have said “no” to some potential lovers I have interviewed (sex being the final phase of the interview process), most of them find reaons to keep in touch.  Here are some of my most recent favorite reasons:

- I’m being deployed.  I’m not kidding about this one.  I really do understand feeling nervous about being deployed to an active military zone and I always appreciate the sacrifice that our military men make for us; but a sudden need to email a woman who has turned you down for a sexual affair so that you have “company” during employment, seems odd to me.

- “You should reconsider,” even years after saying no.  You don’t know what you’re missing.  This is especially curious when I have already had sex with the person in question and I do actually know what I’m “missing” and it’s called, “a mindblowing sexual experience,” only not with you.  I have one such suitor with whom, despite having sex with him a number of times, I did not experience a single orgasm.  Heck I can have that experience alone.

- “You won’t find anyone else like me.”  Gosh I hope not.  I do understand the need to have a healthy ego, but an over-inflated one is a huge turn-off.

- “I’ll wait as long as necessary.”  Please don’t.  This from a man whose photograph was at least twenty years old, taken when he was at least fifty pounds lighter.  Meeting him in person did not convince me that he was worth a round in bed and him waiting till I change my mind will not convince me either.

- “But, you seemed to enjoy the sex.”  Guess what?  I’m like most everyone who has a healthy sex drive.  I can enjoy sex without needing to have a relationship with you and my criteria for relationships  is much different than it is for a single or two romp(s) between the sheets.

Just for future reference, if I’m not keeping in touch with you, there is no reason to “keep in touch” with me.  None at all.

Hotel Staff Are Definitely Voyeurs

I drove up to the motel and walked in.  It was a little on the dingy side, but clean, so what the heck.  There is a law in our state that every person who checks into a hotel must provide a name and address and car information.  I usually do, as there will be no fallout in my marriage.

I have noticed something very odd and I would have thought that it was random chance were it not for the fact that it has happened quite frequently.  It is always the male hotelier’s preference to rent me the room right next to the office.

A part of me wants to believe that the reason they do this is to keep an eye on me for my safety.  After all, a woman on her own, checked into a motel, well it could be an unsafe situation.  On the other hand, I never rent motel rooms in motels that are located in high crime areas.  In fact, I have a very reliable website I use to check the crime statistics for the zip code in which the property is located.

The emotional part of  me believes that motel owners and front desk staff are voyeurs who are intensely curious about what I am really up to in that room.  I hope they get from it what they hope to.

I know I do.

Text Me, Baby

I often wonder how, in the days before text messenger applications, a sense of heightened anticipation and excitement was achieved. An affair has a built in delightfully exciting anticipation which is always there, especially as you make plans to be together, but sometimes a text message putting desire into words discreetly and daringly sent to a phone can send those “I crave you” hormones, right over the edge.

Some days I am truly amazed at how in four years, my desire for Mac and his desire for me have not diminished. The electrical pulse of raw desire between us is undeniably there when we are together and it does not seem to fade when we are not together.

A few years ago, I got a text message asking me if I could make arrangements so that I could “fuck” a friend of mine. He sent it to me by mistake. It was meant for his future wife. Apparently, our phone numbers were one above the other and he was decidedly careless in his excitement and picked my phone number, instead of hers. You can imagine his embarrassment when I called him to tell him that it would be highly unlikely as we were on opposite coasts, at the time.

Mac has a delightfully, twisted sense of humor. Last night, knowing that I was at a dinner hosted by a friend of mine, he sent me a very suggestive text message that he knew I’d see at the most inopportune time, but which would most definitely heighten my desire for him. I’d repeat it were it not for the fact that you’d blush just reading it.

So, in the “before text messaging” days how did people woo their lovers? Heavy breathing on the telephone and quickly hanging up? Using the phone keypad to punch out a tune that translated into “I want you now?” Smoke signals that read, “Let’s fuck like bunnies. Meet me at 2. Usual place?”

I love the technology age. My lover lets me know when he desires me by the mere vibration of my phone and a few well-chosen words, all of which invariably necessitate a vibrator of a different sort.

Forward has a price

“What are you here for?”

“The flirting.”

It must be a very difficult thing to believe, because I have yet had a man believe that if I am in the chat room of a flirting website, that I am there just to flirt and not to be picked up.

And, do men really believe that if they offer me all kinds of sexual favors I will be more tempted to meet them for stranger sex, even though they completely ignored and will continue to ignore everything I say in their quest to get me, someone they don’t even know, into bed?

How does that work anyway?  Obviously, I’m in a chat room with a bunch of people I don’t know, who have never seen me and don’t know what I look like.  Neither do I know the least bit of information about them.  Yet as soon as I show up there to enjoy some lighthearted banter for the heck of it, I start getting tons of private messages, making it impossible to follow the conversation in the main room.  I know I shouldn’t, but I usually feel compelled to answer.  Yet, I am tiring of the fact that every conversation starts with a man asking me how he can please me and how much he enjoys sex.

I figure if the man is in a flirting chat room, he’s probably there for sex.  I can work that little equation out for myself.  What always baffles me is how many of them will immediately tell me how much wonderful oral sex they can give me that will send me to heights heretofore unkown.  I want to know how they know that without even knowing who I am?  Does it not occur to these men that they are wholly transparent by telling me what they “know” I will enjoy, even though they don’t know me and they’ve never had sex with me.

A successful sexual relationship is a learning experience.  One can never assume that one knows the sexual response of another, until one actually has sex with that person and then, as in the case of my darling and much loved Sam, sometimes even knowing does not translate into successfully doing.

Making assumptions that just because most women have a predictable response to a particular stimulus, does not mean that every woman is going to respond likewise…and I’m not just talking about the furor over getting a total stranger to share her deepest sexual desires with a man in a chatroom.

There Suddenly Appeared A Large Orange Chipmunk

Mac and I often meet one another for lunch. He works near a wonderful and popular park, where we like to take picnics. We always look for a very quiet spot so that we can have enough privacy to share non-public displays of affection, as public ones near where he works would obviously be risky.

Though we are more relaxed in this environment, both of us have our ears open for any noises that might alert us to people coming, especially children as we are both very careful to be PG around children. It can make for some very funny interruptions. Like the time we heard two loud vehicle engines and then saw two school buses pull up and off-load about thirty children plus their several teachers. There was also the time we heard a car pull up near our car, (actually park right next to our car even though the entire parking lot was empty that day, except for our car and one other clear across the parking lot) and a couple got out to feed the squirrels sitting right in front of our car. Beware the squirrel feeders. Then there was the time we watched as a woman parked her car behind ours, get out and start taking pictures of her car and ours? Beware the happy photographers!

We are always thoroughly amused by these events and they are a source of great amusement to us. On our most recent visit, we were enjoying each other’s company in a very quiet section of the park, when I heard a noise. I stopped, looked around, then looked at him with a huge grin on my face. He frowned and asked me what was going on. I said, “You won’t believe this, but a giant orange chipmunk with a black cape is headed this way.” He laughed and said I had to be joking, but when he looked for himeself, he saw that indeed a giant, bright orange chipmunk with a black cape was headed our way. We both laughed really hard and then he said, “I imagine the camera crew will not be far behind.”

A few years ago, Mac and I spent two glorious days at a hotel by the ocean. It was an historical landmark and was a very quaint and old-fashioned, Victorian-style mansion. When returning from lunch the first day we were there, Mac and I entered the hotel in the garage on the lower level. We decided to stop in the lobby to get an ethernet cable from the reception (yes old-fashioned hotels do have internet, even if they have not upgraded to card keys for their doors and the maids were not told that the room is occupied, yikes). As I stepped out of the elevator first, I saw an entire camera crew in the lobby of the hotel and a very attractive woman holding a microphone, making a determined way toward the elevator. I whispered to Mac that he should simply go back to the hotel room, as he was not where he was supposed to be, whereas I had legitimate reasons to be at that hotel and it was known I was there. His curiosity overcame him and he stuck his head out over me (he’s a lot taller than I am) to see what was going on. He sneaked silently back into the elevator and proceeded up to our room. Apparently, the camera crew was filming a documentary-style advertisement for the hotel and wanted some of the registered guests to be on film.

So, it was with great amusement that Mac and I recalled that particular event, coupled with the event involving the squirrel feeders. That is until we saw the camera crew following behind the seven-foot, fluffy chipmunk at which point I think we both laughed so hard, our sides hurt.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He said.

Beware the camera crews. Beware to bolt the hotel doors, especially if they don’t use key-cards. Beware the squirrel feeders, but above all…beware the seven-foot, orange chipmunks.

Vaugh Has A Girlfriend

Okay so we know that I started this dating thing, primarily to actually have a sex life. Being married does not, apparently, guarantee one of such a thing. As you will see from my blog, the interview process can be grueling, so much so that when you find someone who is even halfway normal, you’re willing to give it a try…even if they come with an unexpected or unusual challenge. No, I’m not talking long distance…this time.

Vaugh had a lover already. It was complicated. She took a job that took her away from him and the frequency of his dates became so low as to cause him to decide he needed to “add another.” I like Vaughn. He’s an intelligent and interesting person with interests that are so different to mine that there is always such a lot to talk about when we talk. In all the good parts, he reminded me of the lover I had just broken up with and I think that is the primary reason I “went there.” After all, it was all cool. His lover knew about me, I knew about her, he was getting it from all sides (excuse the pun…no actually, pun intended). He had the time to fit in with my schedule and he was willing to be a “regular,” once a week date.

That is, until, his all knowing lover felt compelled to call him every time we were together. Every time. That is until she rearranged her schedule to be available to him on “our” day of the week and expected him to put me off to meet with her. That is until the day she called from a number he wouldn’t recognize, just so that he’d take the call, instead of call back when he was done.

He was still surprised when I swiftly ended it. He still calls or emails occasionally to see if I will have a change of heart. I don’t think I’m going to. Besides, I no longer need a substitute for the lover I want, I have the real thing.

Time For An Update

Some who enjoyed reading here have asked that I blog again.  I can’t think why, as there has to be something more fun to do than read my adventures.  Nevertheless, here’s an update, which I will follow with a story of my latest adventure.

By July of this year, I had two men who I was dating.  For one, I was a “fill in” as his regular girlfriend had taken a job that made meeting her difficult.  More on this story in an upcoming post.  I also met a truly wonderful man who was completely enthralled with me (always great for the ego) and we had a wonderful, albeit short, dating adventure with one another.  However, my heart was never really in either of these relationships as it still belonged to my ex-lover.  I ended both of them the moment that what I had been impatiently waiting for occurred.

My ex-lover, Mac had a change of heart and asked if we could date again.  Dating him has always been the adventure of my lifetime and I hardly hesitated.  Well I hesitated for a minute or two…just long enough to make him agree to new parameters for our relationship and to make sure that dating him would be worthwhile.

So, we’re back together and having fun again.  Now you get to share in our fun by reading some of our more hilarious misadventures.

The Dog Wags It’s Tail

Aargh!  Here I was being hotly pursued by a man who was sure that we would be completely ideal for one another.  He couldn’t wait to meet me.  Nagged about it incessantly.  Finally, I was in a position to meet him.  Again, he kept saying how perfect we would be together.  We both wanted the same things.  This was going to work out just beautifully.

The next day, I did not hear from him.  Three days went by, still no word.  I happened to see him on my messenger client.  I wrote: “I will assume you changed your mind.”  He responded that no, he hadn’t changed his mind, just that he’d been busy.  So I dropped it and pursued another budding relationship.  Actually, a relationship that really is ideal for me.  Label me “Happy.”

Today, guess who was frantically trying to contact me?   Yup, the same guy who just ignored me for two and a half weeks.  Apparently, he’s been “fucked up.”  Busy and dealing with some medical issues.  Yes, I would have been buying it, had I not seen him online every night.  He asked if I would meet him over the weekend.  I said “No.”  He said, “lost interest, huh?”  I told him plainly that it would have taken the same amount of effort to text message me to tell me all of this was going on then, as it did now and I don’t play games.

Does he really think I’m that desperate.  How obnoxious of him to assume that I will wait around till he was ready and then jump to see him because it was convenient for him.  He never bothered to establish any relationship.  It’s a mystery to me how he assumed there was one he could fall back on.  Oh, he wishes me well and wants me to know that he is keeping the door open for me, in case I change my mind.

The manual about female behavior he is reading must be missing a few pages.