Meeting Phuket

**Warning-I’m not going to hold back. I am a single unattached non-monogamous deviant. If that combination of words raises your hackles, please feel free to stop reading. I’m going to talk about the men I spend time with. I may not give you the blow by blow (hahahahaha)…it’s not really my expertise; writing sexually explicit material, but I am going to share. Most of the names are fictitious, nicknames I’ve given them or portions of their screen names. I’m finding I’m not alone in my journey, just more candid than most about it.  I’ve done very stupid things, I’ve had hard conversations, I’ve lied, hurt, been hurt, loved, been humiliated, withdrawn, grown and inspired. If you have anything insightful you’d like to add, please comment. If I find your comment judgey, close-minded or in any way disturbs the flow in a negative way I’ll just delete it…because it’s my blog and I can.

It’s strange after all this time and encouragement from friends that I choose now to blog about my dating experiences/sexapades, but I think I have the innate need to today because I had a significant breakthrough and I feel like I discovered an awesome secret. It didn’t come until this morning when I was meditating. I suppose my brain needed to chew on the reason why I behave the way I do with whom I do for a little while-for like ..mmmm…27 years!!! ~rolls eyes~

I went on three dates this past weekend. Well I say dates loosely. All parties involved were fully expecting to get some. Overall, it seemed like everyone was on the hunt-looking to fuck. My phone was blowing up with invitations. My visitor count on dating sites started to increase. More messages were hitting my page. Could be that Scorpio was tickling Venus, but I didn’t really have time to look it up and quite honestly I didn’t care. Trying to navigate four very busy people’s schedules (mine and three others) where everyone feels special, seen and heard is challenging.

I was pulled in to a few messages that provided some nice FB fodder. I enjoy this immensely. It provides a very real, but humorous glance at the travesty of how far we’ve devolved when it comes to connecting to people with the ultimate intent of coupling. I’ve received some feedback from people about how sorry they feel for me that I am having such a difficult time finding a man. First, I’m not having a difficult time finding a man. I am, what I affectionately call, up to my eyeballs in dick. I’m waiting for the right guy to find ME. I really don't have to do anything, but wait to receive him. Until then I’m remaining open to love and happily trolloping along. I may not think like a man, but I certainly date like one. Sadly, overall, some people miss the point in regards to my posts. They’re supposed to be funny. Fuckin’ laugh…I do.

I matched with Phuket online about 6 weeks ago. He is handsome, successful, ambitious, refined, quiet, analytical and has been in an open marriage for 17 years. His wife is delightful; we’ve spoken on the phone. I call him Phuket because at some point during a conversation I asked him what was on his Fucket list. Since most people have fantasies and many of them will be played out in one’s lifetime if they are lucky having a Fucket list is essential. He was intrigued by my openness and unfiltered banter regarding this. Phuket and I playfully texted, called and skyped until it was clear if we wanted more we’d have to do more. Still, I wasn’t sure about him yet. He suggested driving down to Portland, but I said ‘Nah, I need to get out of town for a while. My week has been hell. I don’t mind coming up there.’ and to please choose a restaurant. I’ll be coming up hungry. I immediately text MacGeyser, give him dates and times of availability and ask him if wants to get together to play. MacGeyser is a weakness. I’m like a moth to a flame regarding him. More on him later.

Phuket chooses a Mexican restaurant (YAY…I love Mexican food), but when I arrive it’s clear I’m not a fan. This is obviously a local hangout and we’re not welcome. Also, they serve primarily seafood. My phobia starts crawling up my arms, across my chest and up my neck. My eyes and mouth start to water and I push down the feeling I need to throw up. Just writing about it gives me the heebie jeebies. 

I see him seated in a booth, start smiling and walking over. He’s even BETTER looking in person. Dayem. He gets up and gives me a big hug. Suddenly, I feel repulsed. Shit…no no noooooo! We exchange pleasantries and I sit down. He scoots in right beside me and puts a hand on my thigh and squeezes. Bleh…still feel repulsed. I couldn’t tell if it was him, the blaringly loud music or the stench of fish. I order a corona and just down the sucker before telling him we can’t stay. I’m sorry. Then I have to tell him my phobia. It's always embarrassing for me. I won’t go into it further. I just don’t like seafood…period. 

He pokes fun at me about it, as most men do, but we leave immediately, drive to three other places (a closed bbq place, a seedy pool hall pub, Sharis-REALLY?) before ending up at a Chinese place. Now I’m really hungry, tired and annoyed. Right before we walk in he grabs me and lays one on me because he “just can’t wait anymore”. My heart sinks. His style of kissing doesn't match mine (I call his style shamu kissing) and although I could adjust I simply don't enjoy when men feel like they need to explore my entire mouth with their tongue. Also, his cologne was off-putting. Am I getting sick? 

I chose to sit across from him saying I wanted to be able to see him when I talk to him, but really, I needed some space to calm the fuck down. We eat, drink, talk, laugh…it’s just like when we were on line and relax into it. Yay! I feel so much better. Off to the hotel…more drinking, talking and then touching, kissing, undressing and at one point he whispers in my ear, 'Will you let me fall in love with you?' and I grimace. No, I am not feeling it. Nope. ~sighs~ Now I'm distracted. A few days earlier we had discussed how if we connected well in person it would be the beginning of the end. Eventually, someone will want to take me off the market and I will let them, but until then we could have our fun. 

I decided to just play it out, get him off fast and hope he makes an excuse afterwards that he has a busy day tomorrow and should probably take off or roll over and fall asleep, but he was determined to make me orgasm. My body was not only not responding, it was shutting down. WTF? Why don’t I like him? I stare at him…he’s hot, he’s nice, he’s in to me. He tries several different things, but even with my guidance and coaching it doesn't help. The rhythm is off…everything is just…off. 

Finally I just ask him to stop. He’s sweating, dripping on me and reeks. It’s just…gross. I state the obvious and the truth; I’m not feeling it even though I really like him. I absolutely don’t understand it and I apologize. He is disappointed, sad, upset and thinks it's because he’s married. I insist that it isn't, but pause to think about it more. 

I say that maybe a part of me does have a problem with it. No matter what, in this situation, I never get to be number one. He tries to cut me off and I shake my head. I'm not done yet. Actually, I'm not number two OR three either. If I'm lucky, I'll hold a number 4 spot behind the wife, the princess daughter and the coveted corner office. With me you get the whole pie, but what do I get? I get to go home and be alone. I don't need a man to be happy, but they sure are nice to have around. I deserve to be number one, ******. This resonates in me. I don't think I've ever said that aloud to anyone especially not pacing around a hotel room naked. 

He gets up and avoids looking at me. Whatever he was going to say earlier he keeps to himself and heads to the bathroom to shower. He dresses quickly and leaves. I peer at him through the peep hole as he pauses before heading down the hall. I want a cigarette, but I don't have any. Also I haven't smoked in 8-9 years...so yeah. 

I call down to housekeeping and ask for new linens to be delivered then shower in the dark which I sometimes do when I have sensory overload. It’s peaceful and soothing to me. I use ALL the shampoo and conditioner because it smells so damn good! Mental note to raid the housekeeping cart on my way out. I had planned on taking a bath earlier, but fatigue is setting in. My eyes hurt. I do three rounds of Tapping and that seems to bring me some solace. 

I strip the bed and by the time I have all the sheets and blankets piled up housekeeping arrives with new ones. I remake the bed, tidy up the room, layout my clothes for Saturday, repack my bag and crawl into bed. Phuket texts me around 2am. He says he's sorry for getting upset with me, that his ego had gotten the best of him and hoped we would still be friends. It occurs to me that he may never been shut down like that before. I decide not to respond until the morning. I drift off to sleep with my last thought being worried about seeing MacGeyser and wondering if I should cancel. If my body is being bizarro, this is going to end poorly. I don’t want it to end…Not yet.