Standards, Continued

The original idea for this project was to keep a sexy secret diary about sexy sex.  I’ll get around to that (hopefully), but I have a Nympho With Standards rant that I need to get through first.  My last post was a general lead-up to this, so I might as well get it out of the way.  It may be educational, too!

My last relationship had been a little short on affection.  Very short, actually – it was officially the longest I have ever gone in my adult life without sex.  Once I was out of it, I was all ready to go!  A good friend of mine spent a couple of days (and nights.  Especially nights.) reminding me how much fun it is to have a body.  This rant is not about that friend.

This happened after I’d gotten back home from our extended visit and popped my hip joints back into place so I could walk normally again.  I was feeling great, and alive, and ready for more, but Joe does not live in the same town as me.  Obviously, the reasonable thing to do was to start looking for someone a bit more local who might serve a similar purpose.  Being a young, tech-savvy sort of person, I keep up with everyone from good friends to my grandma to random people I meet at parties on The Facebook.  This one facebook friend dude I knew from “around” (you know – mutual friends, seeing each other at social events) had drunkenly tried to kiss me once at a party.  I was still attached at the time, so I dodged that shit as gracefully as was possible.  I will absolutely end a bad relationship before I’ll even think of cheating.  Anyway, Dude was clearly interested, so the next time he tried to drunkenly kiss me at a social event I was all for it.  No way was I inviting him back to bed though; he probably would have fallen over and hit his head on something and I’d have to play nurse but not in a fetishy kind of way.  Also, if you’re too drunk to actually stand up you are probably too drunk to satisfy me.

Well, not long after that, he messaged me saying that kissing me had been hot.  After a bit of online flirting, he went ahead and told me he loved eating pussy and wanted to come over to my place to please me.  Hell, yeah, I said (or something like that).  I was all for it, but wanted to lay it all out on the table first.  I wanted the sex, but No Boyfriend.  Just to make it clear that this was going to be a hookup and not a relationship with gooey emotional feelings.  He says that sounds great, but then tells me this long story about how he doesn’t want a relationship because the last girl he was in a relationship with hurt him this way and that and blah blah blah . . . .  (Red flag there, regardless of gender.  If you are about to hook up with someone and they need to emote about their last relationship it is not a good sign.  A simple statement that it didn’t work, or even that it was bad is probably okay, but a Tolstoy-length whinge is dodgy territory.  I know, I know; this post is a lengthy whinge on my part, but you are probably not about to see me naked so this is an entirely different situation.)

Possible red flags ignored, I continued the flirting/negotiations.  I had a free night that would be perfect for a visit, so how about then?  He suggested bondage as part of the evening, which made me all the more enthusiastic.

Now, I’m sure you all know what bondage is.  Maybe you have some experience, or a lot.  Maybe you just googled it and will be busy for the next several hours.  The point is, although it had been a while, I’d always enjoyed it and was happy to have found someone to play with.  The other point is, I enjoy bondage, but not S&M.  If you don’t know the difference, please look into it before you get involved.  Experimenting is fine, but if you already know what you do and do not like (which I do) you will not appreciate someone trying to go for the old “if you’ll do that, you’ll do anything” trick.  With that in mind, I am going to refer to the dude as “DB” from here on out.  Because he ended up being a douchebag.  (This is such a handy insult.  It’s a thing that is useless and may be harmful to women.)

The date was set, and I was getting ready.  I’d stocked up the fridge with beer and food, showered and shaved, and was putting on my makeup when DB called.  He said he’d be over soon, and I should “put on something sexy”.  I got into a mesh thong, my shortest miniskirt, and a tiny camisole.  I was ready!  When DB got out of his car, I was a wee bit disappointed.  Although he had demanded that I dress up for him, he was wearing ugly old gym shorts and a t-shirt, and clearly hadn’t bothered to clean up.  This is the appearance standard I mentioned in the last post in action!  Sure, I love to dress up for someone I’m with.  The last person who actually gave me instructions on what to wear did so as part of a Master/submissive  relationship, but he had actually dressed for his part as well.  If I’m going to dress like your slutty pleasure object, I expect you to look (and smell) a bit more like a powerful Man and less like some kid who just grabbed some dirty laundry on the way out the door.  But okay, who cares, right?  Let’s move on.

The next clue that this night was not going to live up to my expectations was the tying-up part.  DB had suggested shibari, which I really hadn’t done before but had wanted to try.  Well, it quickly became apparent that he had never done it before either.  That alone would not have been a problem at all.  Nor would it have bothered me that he had to keep referring to an online video with shitty trance music that he played over and over as he tried to figure out how to get the ropes knotted properly around my naked body.  What ruined the mood for me was that he would get all into getting the ropes right and then stop to be “dominant” and then go back to fiddling.  Some people can show their dominant side to great effect.  Other people are DB, and resort to grabbing you by the hair and snarling for a few seconds to “set the mood” before going back to staring at a half-done knot and saying “hmmmm . . . “.   I am not making fun of DB for being a beginner.  I am making fun of him for making claims that he should have known he couldn’t live up to, and then being a dick about it later.  See, after he finally got me tied properly we decided to have a cigarette break.  During this and every other cigarette break we took, DB would squint at me and say, “Mmmmm . . . I’d like to – but no, you’re not ready for that . . . “.  Well, he never told me what I wasn’t “ready” for, so I can’t tell you what it was.  I didn’t bother to ask, since I assumed he was trying to psych me out and I didn’t want to play that particular game.  The important thing about this is that there is a HUGE difference between not being “ready” for a thing and just plain not being interested in it.  When we finally got back to it, DB decided to put some nipple clamps on me.  Had he bothered to spend any time at all getting acquainted with my body, he’d have known that I have extremely sensitive nipples.  This would be a good thing to know before you just slap some clamps on someone.  I said that was something I didn’t really enjoy (also, this is where the line between bondage and straight-up pain comes in for me) and I’d rather not have them on.  DB just loosened them a bit, and started yanking.  They were loose enough to come off, so he told me my “titties” were “weak” and “useless”.  This is absolutely the point that I should have just given up on the evening and kicked him out.  Things pretty much went downhill from there, which is how I now know what a good point to kick someone out is.

All of the above reflects standard #2 (I’m still writing about that, in case you got sidetracked while reading).  The Master I mentioned earlier was highly intelligent, and had the ability to turn any given evening into something deeply intriguing with few or no props.  His approach to our relationship was also based on a mental connection, so He understood what worked with me.  He never used humiliation or insults as part of play, so I never thought that was automatically part of a bondage session.  As far as I’m concerned, it isn’t, unless one party knows the other party is receptive to that kind of treatment.  He also knew my body so well that He always used just the right amount of pain or firmness.  (And that’s not because we had a long-term thing going; it’s because a skilled lover knows how to tell what their partner is responding to and will act accordingly.)  I’m not saying this just to compare the two, but to give an illustration of what works and what doesn’t.  This applies to every kind of sex that exists.  Involve the brain, and be attentive to your partner and you can’t go wrong.

That’s s good sentence to end this post on, but I did mention a third issue with hookups in my previous post.  After the whole thing was over and I’d send DB on his way I was done.  He called that same weekend and wanted to come back, so I said (politely) I wasn’t interested.  He then started sending me messages that were increasingly insulting and pathetic at the same time.  He told me would “help me work through my issues” and have “vanilla sex” with me and so on, although a more perceptive person might have realized there was not going to be a second time and also moved on.  He even pulled out the old “I value you as a friend” card, even though we’d only ever seen each other casually and were never “friends” in any sense of the word.

Not long after all this nonsense, I found someone else to hook up with who also didn’t get a second time, but for different reasons.  Joe’s still not exactly local, but he is terribly good at phone sex, which has been tiding me over lately.  One of these guys will be the focus of my next post, unless I think of something else I want to say.


One Response to “Standards, Continued”

  1. this blog is already wonderful. Though I must admit I was laughing uncontrollably about DB’s consistent failure. I can tell your writing skills are coming back in force, swiftly.

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