37. Desperately Sikhing Perverts

Okay so I’m probably giving away some of the game with the title of this post.  You may well have ascertained that this story has something to do with perverts and men of a particular religious persuasion.  Not to say that his religious inclination has anything to do with his level of pervyness, it’s more of a happy coincidence given the numerous puns that I could’ve gone with.

My Sikh perv came to me by way of the website rather than random circumstance. But why the pervert label? Well we’ll get to that very shortly.

I’ve dated people of various religious leanings from Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu, to various sub-sections of Christianity including  and not limited to the “Happy-Clappy” variety.  I can honestly say from experience that it makes very little difference in the dating world what religion one is, other than a varying level of religious hypocrisy, depending on how devout a follower they are and their views on sex before marriage.

From his profile this guy seemed like a good prospect, moderately handsome, into his fitness and a good job in the city.  'City Traders - The Complete Menagerie'Well that last one should’ve been a slight warning, the religion of your average City Trader does tend to err on the dark side and often involves selling one’s soul to the devil to make one’s yearly bonus.  And yes I am massively generalizing here, but even my flatmate would concur (and she’s dated more City boys than I care to shake a pointy stick at) that they tend to be vainer and more arrogant than your average bear (or bull depending on your trading position).

So for ease we’ll call our prospective love interest Trader-Boy – yes of course he’s younger than me! – but not by too much he’s only nine years my junior…

Trader-Boy and I had exchanged a few emails and were now progressing to text-talk.  We’d established that we worked nearby to each other and had a common interest in all things fitness.  We then started talking about meeting up and arranged to meet near to our workplaces in three days’ time.

And this is where it all took a strange turn for the worse.  At first his messages were friendly, light, humorous and mildly flirtatious, but gradually they became more and more suggestive.  No-Idea-of-What-Sexting-is-1Now I’m happy to flirt don’t get me wrong, but when a guy starts making sexual insinuations and asking if you have a lot of ‘energy’ and whether your previous partner was satisfied?  well I draw the line there – unless of course you’ve already crossed that sexual line in which case go crazy, talk dirty and Snapchat to your hearts content!

At first as I’m often prone to do, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, perhaps he’s just joking I thought.  So I laughed it off and steered the conversation in a different direction.  Harmless deflection into a less sexually charged topic and a polite decline to send any pictures.

It didn’t work.

Again, me being a ‘nice’ person (also look up the definition of stupidly naive person who tries to see the good in everyone even when they have the redeeming qualities of a serial killer who likes to torture puppies for light entertainment), I decided that rather than cut him off completely I would just let him know that I found his language somewhat forward.  hqdefaultDon’t worry I said it more eloquently than that and managed to sound slightly less frumpy than a 76 year old Mormon virgin.

I just told him that as we had yet to meet I’d rather he reined in his ‘enthusiasm’ as I was ‘not that kind of girl’.  Okay okay, you know as well as I do that I can and indeed have been that type of girl, but not with a complete stranger!  Besides I really believe that if you set a certain tone before you meet someone, they can end up with the wrong idea – an idea that some unscrupulous characters will try and force upon you against your will.

But thankfully my straight-talking worked.

For all of about three text exchanges at which point he thought it perfectly acceptable to ask how good I was in bed, how long I could go for and if I got very wet or not.

At this point I decided that he didn’t even deserve the effort of a reply and blocked him on my whatsapp.  And that was that, except I then got a voicemail from him two days later wondering where I was as he was stood waiting for me at our pre-arranged meeting point.  The first and only time I have ever stood up a guy, but to my reckoning it was wholly warranted.

I really don’t understand how some guys think it’s ok to just jump straight in and start asking about your sexual ability before they’ve even met you.  Sure, if we’d met on a hook-up site I’d understand. But surely not when you’re on a site where you’re supposedly looking for a committed relationship???  But then again, maybe that’s just me being naive again.

So this week’s post is really a tale of a date that never happened, but to be honest I’m pretty glad it didn’t!

Onward and upwards though as they say, I have a date arranged next week with a very tall primary school teacher…fingers crossed he’s not a pervert too.

30. Dropping Balls Part 2

My sincerest apologies dear readers, the combination of a bank holiday and a busy work schedule meant that I didn’t get a chance to finish off my last post. But here you go… the second installment of ‘What Happened to Football Guy.

Where had I left off? Ah yes, I’d told Football Guy that I really liked him and hinted that if he’d changed his mind about not taking things any further I’d be amenable. He’d said he liked me and thanks, but no thanks – or at least that was the strong message not so obliquely hinted at between the lines.

So what’s a girl to do when she kind of hints at putting her heart on the line? Well invite him round for one final night of carnal passion of course! Except I didn’t tell him that.

We arranged his coming over much as we have done in the past, lots of hot sexting beforehand about all the things I want him to do to me, and what I’d do in return for him. I picked him up, brought him back to the house and we hung out for a while before leading him upstairs. Now I should mention if I haven’t already that no man has ever gotten me past the magical ‘hat trick’ of three orgasms in a row. But that was before the Pelé-esque bedroom skills of Football Guy!

Five times!!! Let me repeat FIVE TIMES!!!

Alright now perhaps that may not be many or just par for the course for some women, but for me? I felt like a small miracle had just taken place between my legs! It was like a sexual epiphany. The Holy Grail of repeated orgasms and I had borne witness to this most miraculous event. Okay I know I’m waxing somewhat lyrical here but DAMN! The man knows what he’s doing.

After such a bed-shattering event, one might easily have been swayed into thinking it was worth delaying the inevitable, perhaps even deluding oneself that something more must come of such a fantastic sexual match. But no, not me. I’m done with fooling myself and pulling the wooly hat of wishful thinking over my eyes, shouting “you can’t see me, you can’t see me” at the top of my lungs.

In fact I’d go as far as to say that it only reinforced my resolve to nip things in the bud. But I will admit it made it harder. You see sometimes we can end up thinking that there’s more to something than there is, just because there’s chemistry. But the more volatile the mix, the more likely the whole thing’s gonna explode and someone’s always left cleaning up the mess of broken test tubes and chemical burns. Did I just take that analogy too far? Is that even possible?  Surely not…

So at the end of the night, fully dressed and most definitely sated, I drove Football Guy back to the station. But before we got there I told him that this was to be the last time; that we wouldn’t be meeting again. He asked why and I told him – it simply came down to the fact that I wanted more and I knew he didn’t. I was cutting my losses before I got too much more emotionally involved.

He said he understood and we agreed that we wouldn’t just stop talking, we’d keep in touch, but I told him I wouldn’t be meeting or seeing him, at least not an time soon. He said he was sad it was ending but that he respected my honesty and I like to think he was telling the truth.

After I dropped him off I cried all the way home and for a while when I got home. And it made me realize what a close call that had been. Had I left it any longer I might not have had the common sense to walk away and I’d have been in a much worse state. As it is I’m glad I’ve cut things when I did, I know it’s the right decision. If I was younger perhaps I’d be willing to take the chance that he’d end up falling for me. But if I’m honest, it’s not often that a player changes his gameplay, I’m old enough to know that at least.

But enough of the sad songs and ice-cream comfort binging – I did that the next evening and to be honest although the sex was admittedly worth mourning, the rest wasn’t.

I’ve taken myself off the bench and I’m back in the dating game. I’ve got a new guy I’m talking to online and a girls night out to tell you about and it involves male strippers and a pornstar!

29. Dropping Balls Part 1

I bet you’re wondering what’s been going on with Football Guy as it’s been a while since I last mentioned him. It’s been going really well, rather too well in fact, as I’ve been finding myself feeling increasingly drawn to him. We talk regularly about everyday stuff, we sext regularly till I’m so horny that if I were a guy I would’ve been thrown out of several places for having a raging boner in public.

In fact is there such a law? Can you be thrown out of a place if you can’t control your erection? It’s at times like these that I breathe a sigh of relief that the only tell-tale sign I have of ragingly inappropriately timed horniness, is a flushed complexion and not being able to look anyone directly in the eye.

I truly do feel for you guys, I mean as a woman we can be siting on a bus or in the middle of a team meeting thinking the most inappropriate thoughts, and apart from the occasional blush or minute squirming in the seat, no-one would be any the wiser.

But of course that is what makes it all the more pleasurable, imagining what you’re going to do and what will be done to you in a matter of hours, and knowing that the people around you are totally unaware of the depravity going on in your head.

I’ll also admit I’ve loved it when Football Guy has texted back, saying that he’s unable to stand up from his desk for fear that someone may just lose an eye from the massive protuberance I have inspired through my malicious sexting.

The thing is, for me at least it’s become about more than just the sex, or indeed the sext. We talk on the phone, not just about what we want or plan to do to each other, but about our day and about what’s going on in our lives. It’s enough to make a woman think her NSA (No Strings Attached) guy actually cares about her.

And therein lies the rub so to speak, as you may have guessed and as all my friends warned me from the start, I’ve begun to have feelings for him. Yeah I know I know, who’da thunk it huh? You meet up with someone on a regular basis, have mind-blowingly earth-shattering, ear-drum burstingly great sex with them, you get along with them, and suddenly you find yourself wanting more.

Call me crazy but yes!

It’s an interesting one, part of the male/female divide. A key difference between us girls and guys is this- take all the above into account and typically a woman thinks – well this is going great, we work really well together, the sex is great, we have great fun and chat all the time.   In fact it’s going so well we should make a real go of things and make this official!

Whereas a guy’s typical response to the same situation goes something like this – wow this is going great, I love hanging out with her, the sex is great, we always have fun and I enjoy talking to her. In fact it’s going so well, why would I change a thing, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

From the outside both perspectives are perfectly logical conclusions, it’s just that in this instance I’m on the inside not the outside.

Football Guy had been quite clear from the get-go that he wasn’t really looking for anything more than sex, great sex of course being the preference, but nothing else. Now I won’t bore you with the minutiae of our conversations we had, but I had started scoping out whether there was any room for change in our current status. I hinted that I liked him a lot that I was extremely comfortable around him and would not object if he wanted to see more of me.

And he’d said pretty much the same too but with the added caveat that:

“Well I told you from the start that I don’t want to get into anything serious”

To be fair he’s right, he did say that, it’s just that as a blind, deaf and dumb child with learning difficulties and a pronounced speech impediment could’ve told me, clearly this was no longer enough for me.

So clearly something had to be done, and fast! In our last phone conversation I warned him that I’d have to extricate myself pretty soon, before I started to really fall for him.

He suggested:

“Well if you feel yourself falling, just back off for a while until you’re in control again”

To which I replied:

“Honey, if I feel myself falling it’ll be too late and I will have already lost control”

I’ve been there before, I’m sure we all have… that time when we know deep in our hearts that we really, really like the other person, but to be honest they’re just not that into us.

We string it out, we hope that with time they’ll see how wonderful and special we are and won’t be able to help themselves from falling head over heels for us. Only to be rudely awakened from our dreamy fantasies to find that – oh hang on a minute, actually they can help themselves, and oh look…they’ve helped themselves time and time again whilst we lie there like romantic ideological fools letting them do just precisely that.

So how have I dealt with this predicament I find myself in?

Well I’ll tell you that in the next post 😉