So... Drama.... so named because he teaches it not because he provides it.
I'm not even completely sure how to start this story. I was already physically involved with Deity when I arranged to meet Drama for a coffee / chat kind of date. At the time, I wasn't ready to give up on casual involvement with someone, and I know Deity wasn't ready to be exclusive either. Anyway, the timeline of the two men is intertwined.
Drama and I met for coffee / dessert on a late Sunday afternoon. I dropped the children off with their dad, then met him at the arranged place. I was a little late, he was a little early- but at least he waited. He was nervous, and it showed in the variety of dramatic accents he adopted as he told stories from his life. New Yorker, Brit, snobby Frenchman, irate Jewess.... it was amusing. Eventually, he settled down, and we told each other the stories of how we came to be married, then depressed, then separated. We laughed about the "distance-o-meter" of first dates.... if you sit across the table from your date - no way will you be kissing at the end of the night, and also about the different expectations for personal space in America and the rest of the world. The restaurant was closing - so we went across the street to a place where we could have a drink. By this time in the evening - we were flirting with each other a lot. We had an easy rapport, and vocabularies that lend themselves to innuendo. He got up to use the bathroom, and I checked my messages, because my phone had beeped.
There were two texts from Deity.... one wondering if he could come over since his daughters were both gone for the night, the second saying that he was in my driveway. (!) It's fair to say that had Deity not come over that night.... I'd have done more than make out with Drama in front of my van parked on the street in front of the restaurant. Drama is a fantastic kisser.
Thus concludes Part 1 of the story of Drama.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Anniversary
This is one of those posts that has been a struggle to write. Why? Because I regret my actions. Because there's no way to justify or rationalize my behavior in any way that makes it congruent with my personal value system.
Getting the hard fact out of the way - I had an affair with a married man. I had no intention of anything beyond sex. I didn't want him to leave his wife. He didn't want to leave his wife. I just wanted sex, and so did he.
I am leaving out identifiable details of how and when and where I met Anniversary. My own honor prohibits sharing details that might lead to his identity and jeopardize a marriage. If they don't make it - I don't want it to be because of me.
The basics worth sharing are these - he is a man who is not happy in his life. He loves his wife. He loves his children. He doesn't want to hurt them. I met him when I was newly separated. We chatted frequently via IM, and within the context of a game. I call him Anniversary - because when that first wedding anniversary after I'd left my marriage arrived - my kids were with their dad. I had no job. I had no home. I had no sense that anything would ever work out. In a moment of "What the hell do I have to lose?" - I made a pass at him. He accepted it. It really was an opportunistic thing. A moment of moral weakness for me. A moment of escape for him.
I can't say this was a one-night stand. It was a short-lived affair. He's a great kisser. He has the bluest eyes ever. He's terrible in bed. I regret that too. Shameless thing to say - but it made it easy to not get emotionally attached to him, and easier to cut off contact when it became clear that *he* was starting to feel involved, and that his guilt was getting to be more than he knew how to deal with.
This was not me at my best. But it is part of me.
Getting the hard fact out of the way - I had an affair with a married man. I had no intention of anything beyond sex. I didn't want him to leave his wife. He didn't want to leave his wife. I just wanted sex, and so did he.
I am leaving out identifiable details of how and when and where I met Anniversary. My own honor prohibits sharing details that might lead to his identity and jeopardize a marriage. If they don't make it - I don't want it to be because of me.
The basics worth sharing are these - he is a man who is not happy in his life. He loves his wife. He loves his children. He doesn't want to hurt them. I met him when I was newly separated. We chatted frequently via IM, and within the context of a game. I call him Anniversary - because when that first wedding anniversary after I'd left my marriage arrived - my kids were with their dad. I had no job. I had no home. I had no sense that anything would ever work out. In a moment of "What the hell do I have to lose?" - I made a pass at him. He accepted it. It really was an opportunistic thing. A moment of moral weakness for me. A moment of escape for him.
I can't say this was a one-night stand. It was a short-lived affair. He's a great kisser. He has the bluest eyes ever. He's terrible in bed. I regret that too. Shameless thing to say - but it made it easy to not get emotionally attached to him, and easier to cut off contact when it became clear that *he* was starting to feel involved, and that his guilt was getting to be more than he knew how to deal with.
This was not me at my best. But it is part of me.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Dancer
Dancer.... oh... he was yummy. Actually, he still is yummy. This is one date that I think I will always remember with a smile of "Yeah.... I did that."
I met him on the dating site. Or really - he met me, sending me a note to introduce himself after I visited his profile. I loved his smile, and his sense of humor. He is a well known professional dance instructor, and a designer of specialty card games. I didn't find this out right away - as he is quite protective of his identity, given what he does for a living.
We flirted for a few weeks. I googled him, and ogled him via YouTube videos. We made arrangements to meet for dinner. (Read that as I asked him out.) It's harder than you'd think to schedule a date with a guy who has two jobs, and one of them as a dance professional. Anyway - finally ended up meeting him on January Saturday - the same one as the last date with Catholic.
Side note: That Saturday was the first time ever in my life that I had two different dates with two different guys. Both very attractive men. Both very enjoyable to spend time with. Still - given my conservative upbringing - no one in my immediate family has any idea that I would do such a thing. It's unlikely I'll ever tell them. Now, back to the story.
We went to eat at Tria, a restaurant in North Oaks. I hated all my clothes, wanting to look nice, but casual, and everything in my closet seemed to be too formal or too casual. So I went shopping at Goodwill and found a lovely beige wool sweater that was just right. Yeah, because there wasn't enough craziness going to St. Paul for lunch and needing to be in North Oaks for dinner. But.... Dancer .... I wanted to make a good impression.
He beat me to the restaurant by a few minutes, and was waiting when I got there. He's my height, which surprised me a little. I always expect guys I like to be taller than I am. But he also gave me a hug, and a wonderful grin. We ordered the same entree (scallops with risotto) and had white wine, and hilarious and entertaining conversations about favorite sci-fi authors, working for dot-coms before the first bubble burst, what life was like in high school... and the next thing I knew, it was almost 11 and the restaurant was closing. We split the bill, and he held my coat for me while we walked outside. I didn't kiss him. I did hug him. And in the parting conversation, we agreed that we should do it again.
Then came the challenge of scheduling when to do it again. We exchanged a few more casual messages. We flirted via email. I admitted that I should have kissed him after dinner. He agreed. I finally just invited him over for dinner and a movie at my house for the next Friday night that I didn't have my children.
I cooked Indian food. It snowed. He ended up being late. I gave him a tour of the main floor. We kissed in the kitchen. It was the kind of first kiss you hope for - not too hard, or too soft, or too fast, or too slow. A kiss of anticipation. I did not burn dinner. I made myself stop kissing him, and invited him to the table to eat. We talked about work, and how we ended up in our current jobs and other polite conversation. I was still thinking about kissing him again. (Confession.... I *still* think about that.)
After we finished eating - we cleared the dishes, then went to the living room to pick something to watch. It ended up being Season 1 of Red Dwarf - a funny and ridiculous BBC Sci/Fi comedy. That was possibly just an excuse to make out on the couch. I started the DVD, then sat down next to him, and snuggled in between his arm and chest, so my head could rest on his shoulder. And then he smelled good... and then I needed to taste him, so I kissed his neck. Which led to kissing his lips. Which led to groping each other through our clothes. And then under our clothes. I put his hand down my pants... I don't think he'd have done it himself. I came. Then pants seemed stupid, so we gave up on pants, and I stroked him while he stroked me, and I came again. Then I asked if I could ride him, and he said yes.... so I did.... and it felt ridiculously good to feel him sliding inside of me. Yes. I fucked him on my couch. It was fun, and messy, and wonderfully satisfying. I have no idea how many episodes of Red Dwarf we didn't actually see.... but it was nice to sit half-naked on a couch with a man and watch a geeky comedy. I hadn't realized until this night how much I missed the physical contact of skin to skin.
Dancer couldn't stay late, as he had to catch an early flight to Chicago the next day for a dance workshop. We went upstairs to my bed before he left.... and that was fantastic too.
And then...
Monday arrived. We'd both had time to realize we'd not compared notes on sexual history. We hadn't used a condom (Yeah... that could have been BAD. It wasn't. Thanks, Mirena.) We hadn't talked about what we expected, or wanted in a relationship. There was my discovery of his second profile on the dating site.... which had a reasonable explanation as a "test" profile. Anyway - reality hit. We weren't right for each other, we had different wants for a next relationship, and that was it. Two great dates and very possibly the only one-night stand I will ever have in my life.
Do I regret it? No. Will I ever? Probably not. Was I bummed that things didn't work out? Yes, at first. Dancer is smart, and funny, and charming, and sexy as hell.... but he is not ready to be the kind of man I want in my life. So I will be grateful for the memory.... and maybe I will take some dance lessons.
I met him on the dating site. Or really - he met me, sending me a note to introduce himself after I visited his profile. I loved his smile, and his sense of humor. He is a well known professional dance instructor, and a designer of specialty card games. I didn't find this out right away - as he is quite protective of his identity, given what he does for a living.
We flirted for a few weeks. I googled him, and ogled him via YouTube videos. We made arrangements to meet for dinner. (Read that as I asked him out.) It's harder than you'd think to schedule a date with a guy who has two jobs, and one of them as a dance professional. Anyway - finally ended up meeting him on January Saturday - the same one as the last date with Catholic.
Side note: That Saturday was the first time ever in my life that I had two different dates with two different guys. Both very attractive men. Both very enjoyable to spend time with. Still - given my conservative upbringing - no one in my immediate family has any idea that I would do such a thing. It's unlikely I'll ever tell them. Now, back to the story.
We went to eat at Tria, a restaurant in North Oaks. I hated all my clothes, wanting to look nice, but casual, and everything in my closet seemed to be too formal or too casual. So I went shopping at Goodwill and found a lovely beige wool sweater that was just right. Yeah, because there wasn't enough craziness going to St. Paul for lunch and needing to be in North Oaks for dinner. But.... Dancer .... I wanted to make a good impression.
He beat me to the restaurant by a few minutes, and was waiting when I got there. He's my height, which surprised me a little. I always expect guys I like to be taller than I am. But he also gave me a hug, and a wonderful grin. We ordered the same entree (scallops with risotto) and had white wine, and hilarious and entertaining conversations about favorite sci-fi authors, working for dot-coms before the first bubble burst, what life was like in high school... and the next thing I knew, it was almost 11 and the restaurant was closing. We split the bill, and he held my coat for me while we walked outside. I didn't kiss him. I did hug him. And in the parting conversation, we agreed that we should do it again.
Then came the challenge of scheduling when to do it again. We exchanged a few more casual messages. We flirted via email. I admitted that I should have kissed him after dinner. He agreed. I finally just invited him over for dinner and a movie at my house for the next Friday night that I didn't have my children.
I cooked Indian food. It snowed. He ended up being late. I gave him a tour of the main floor. We kissed in the kitchen. It was the kind of first kiss you hope for - not too hard, or too soft, or too fast, or too slow. A kiss of anticipation. I did not burn dinner. I made myself stop kissing him, and invited him to the table to eat. We talked about work, and how we ended up in our current jobs and other polite conversation. I was still thinking about kissing him again. (Confession.... I *still* think about that.)
After we finished eating - we cleared the dishes, then went to the living room to pick something to watch. It ended up being Season 1 of Red Dwarf - a funny and ridiculous BBC Sci/Fi comedy. That was possibly just an excuse to make out on the couch. I started the DVD, then sat down next to him, and snuggled in between his arm and chest, so my head could rest on his shoulder. And then he smelled good... and then I needed to taste him, so I kissed his neck. Which led to kissing his lips. Which led to groping each other through our clothes. And then under our clothes. I put his hand down my pants... I don't think he'd have done it himself. I came. Then pants seemed stupid, so we gave up on pants, and I stroked him while he stroked me, and I came again. Then I asked if I could ride him, and he said yes.... so I did.... and it felt ridiculously good to feel him sliding inside of me. Yes. I fucked him on my couch. It was fun, and messy, and wonderfully satisfying. I have no idea how many episodes of Red Dwarf we didn't actually see.... but it was nice to sit half-naked on a couch with a man and watch a geeky comedy. I hadn't realized until this night how much I missed the physical contact of skin to skin.
Dancer couldn't stay late, as he had to catch an early flight to Chicago the next day for a dance workshop. We went upstairs to my bed before he left.... and that was fantastic too.
And then...
Monday arrived. We'd both had time to realize we'd not compared notes on sexual history. We hadn't used a condom (Yeah... that could have been BAD. It wasn't. Thanks, Mirena.) We hadn't talked about what we expected, or wanted in a relationship. There was my discovery of his second profile on the dating site.... which had a reasonable explanation as a "test" profile. Anyway - reality hit. We weren't right for each other, we had different wants for a next relationship, and that was it. Two great dates and very possibly the only one-night stand I will ever have in my life.
Do I regret it? No. Will I ever? Probably not. Was I bummed that things didn't work out? Yes, at first. Dancer is smart, and funny, and charming, and sexy as hell.... but he is not ready to be the kind of man I want in my life. So I will be grateful for the memory.... and maybe I will take some dance lessons.
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