Archive | February, 2018

Protected: Thanks, that was fun

28 Feb

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Age is just a number

27 Feb

I am 44.  #4 is 38.  That’s a 6 year age difference.  Really, he’s probably too old for me anyway.  I’ve always had a preference for younger men.  At my age thinking about dating someone who is in his 50’s makes me feel yucky.  Feels too old for me.

Over the weekend a friend of mine told me I should date much younger because I had a young spirit, and so I had to find a man who had one too.  He thought that 27 would be good for me.  First of all, I love him.  He’s great.  High five.  He’s like a great older brother who I never had.  Second, if the dude is 27 I’m technically old enough to be his mom, that feels a little yucky.

I have not embraced my inner Cougar.  I should.  Thanks to my friend who reminded me that the Cougar rule is 1/2 your age + 7.  That means my limit is 29.

Date #7 (Civil Servant) is lined up for Saturday.  He’s 32.  #4 is a fling.  Casual.  We are free to see whomever we want.  If a 32 year old has a hot body and wants to mess around, who am I to say no?

Online dating is fun.  You should do it.

Countdown to bad decisions

27 Feb

Now is the time when my sister should be looking away.  Do not read any further.  Stop reading.  Immediately.  You should maybe go and do some other things.  I think the kids are calling you and the dog wants to go out.  Is that your phone ringing?  You should probably get that.

We’re less than 10 hours out from date 2 with #4.  I’m stupid excited about the whole thing.  Over the moon, can’t concentrate at work, making a list of everything that needs to be done, counting down the hours excited.  Has it only been 2 weeks since that first date with that hawt kiss on the front porch?  Two weeks of texting (or sexting, whatever) and the is-he-going-to-ask-me-out-or-not game with the mean girl who lives inside of my head.  Yet here we are, with hours to spare before his hands are on my body.

Dear sister, if you’re still here, then run away immediately!!

He text messaged me last night until he went to bed, and first thing this morning when he woke up.  Yes, I’m sure he was probably messaging his other booty calls, and frankly, I don’t care.  Based on what he wrote I know he’s excited to see me.  Let me stress the word excited. My hair looks great.  My legs are shaved.  There are clean sheets on the bed.  The house is clean.  I have my outfit picked out.  Mr. Bojangles threw up on the floor this morning.  So far everything is going according to plan.

My rational mind is chanting: I am sex panther.  No touching below the waist.  We will not get fully naked.  I will not sleep with him tonight.  I am sex panther.  No touching below the waist.  We will not get fully naked.  I will not sleep with him tonight.

Meanwhile my inner slut is chanting: I am a sex panther.  Definitely touching below the waist.  We’re going to get fully naked.  I’m going to sleep with him tonight.

My slutty self is going to make this difficult.  Man, would I like to crawl up all over that body of his.  Have I mentioned lately how hot it is?  Because it is hot.  And he is tall.  And his shoulders are broad.  And his arms are strong.  And he has quite a way with words.  And I’m going to straddle him later.  If he did half the things he said he’d like to do to me, then I will die. I will be dead.  No doubt he’d be great in the sack.  No doubt.  I will not sleep with him.  Even though I totes want to.  Not tonight.  I will persevere!  I will resist his charms.  He’s the type that if you give it up too soon then he loses interest.  He wants the conquest.  I will not give him.  I will send him home.  He can come back some other time.

I am a sex panther. No touching below the waist.  We will not get fully naked.  I will not sleep with him tonight.

 

Protected: In my head

26 Feb

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Talking bodies

26 Feb

Dear friends and family who I am close with.  Look away.  This post is not for you.  This is a post about sexy things that you don’t need to read about.  Go away.  You do not want to read any further than this.  Trust me.  Too personal.  You’ll never look at me the same way.

You’ve been warned.

Go now.

I’m particularly talking to you, my sister.  Stop fucking reading.  You do NOT want to read.  I’m going to talk about naked things.  Casually walk away.

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On a scale of 1 to 10

24 Feb

…10 being “as wrong as wrong can be”, how wrong is it to set my Tinder profile to look for men 10 years younger than I am?

Ok. Same scale, how wrong is it to meet up with them?

Protected: Small town dating

23 Feb

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Pleasantly surprised

23 Feb

I owe you an update on my date the other night with #6.

We had made arrangements to meet at a cool restaurant downtown that I’d been dying to try.  He arrived before I did and when I walked in I was happy to see that he was a bit cuter than his pics.  He was also a bit shorter than I thought and with my amazing boots I was probably an inch taller than he was.  Whatever, no bigs, figured I’d never have to wear heels again – I love flats.  #6 was in a bit of a panic when I got there because he’d realized he’d left his wallet in the back of the uber.  In some respects it worked out well because the problem solving mode we had to go into helped us get past any nervousness.

Wallet in hand, we were able to sit down and enjoy our drinks.  The drink menu was the bomb and sitting at the bar we were able to watch all the madness in the restaurant. I’ve come to the conclusion that sitting at the bar is way better than sitting at a table because you’ve got a better chance of reading body language, and if they have hot arms and you want to touch them, it makes it easier.

For those of you who voted in the poll as to whether/not I should give him a birthday card (his birthday was the night before), “yes” was the right answer.  He loved the card and was touched that I’d even thought to do that.  I’m a kind person, god damn it (someone tell #4).  Let me thank NONE of you for telling me what I should write in his birthday card.  Really helpful.  No really, thank you to no one.  In the card I’d written that I’d handle first round of drinks and he told me absolutely not.  When he got up to go to the bathroom I closed out the tab on the first round because I knew he’d fight me.

I had really low expectations going into the date.  In our messaging he was making me do a whole lot of work and the conversation wasn’t flowing.  In person, I was getting all sorts of right signals and the conversation was smooth.  He shared some fun Tinder/OKC stories, asked questions about me, was a good flirt, and fun company.  As I did the previous night on my date with #5, I got up at one point to go to the bathroom just so he could see how amazing I looked in my outfit.  Yes, I wore the damn one as the previous date.  No, I don’t have a problem with doing that.  The outfit was banging.  I may start wearing it everyday.

Three hours (and three drinks) went by in the blink of an eye.  “I don’t know what I was expecting tonight, but I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised,” he told me.  He said he thought I was smart and very attractive and that he’d love to see me again.  Likewise.  So promising!  It was a great first date.  Not quite as spicy as the first one with #4, missing some of the chemistry, but definitely worth another date.

I messaged him when I got home and gave him my number.  Text message sent from him 5 minutes later.  Good morning texts on Wednesday and Thursday – some witty banter the rest of the days.  And yesterday he asked me out again.  I said yes, of course I said yes, because he’s cute and funny and we have some chemistry and why the hell not?