Falling for Tall Guy

I met Tall Guy on AM in early January. At first there was nothing that really stood out about him except for the fact that he's tall and he's a decent writer, which is not common among men on AM.  Trust me on this.

It's not that I'm a writing snob, but when your only way of getting to know someone initially and determining if you want to meet them in person is in writing, it really helps if he can put two sentences together. Okay, maybe I am a writing snob. Whatever....

Anyway, Tall Guy wrote well, often, and prolifically. It didn't take very long at all for us to learn more and more about each other and to learn that we actually have some things in common that surprised me. By the end of January, even though I was thoroughly enjoying playtime with T, I was ready to meet him. But he wasn't ready to meet me.

I used to make the assumption that by the time someone signs up on AM, they are ready to pursue whatever they may find there.  I learned that is not the case.  There are many folks there who are just checking it out, some out of curiosity and others to see if they really could find someone there.  Let me speak for the real AM hunters and say that the lookie-loos are annoying. Seriously, it's not fun to invest weeks in getting to know someone only to find out that he doesn't know what he wants or that he was just window shopping but he doesn't want to prowl.  But that's exactly how it was with Tall Guy.

Let me pause here and tell you why I've named him Tall Guy.  It should be very obvious, but for some of you (Ryan, Max, and whoever else may need assistance with their masks before I put on my own) I'll explain a bit more.  He's tall.  Very tall. Really, really tall. 6'10" to be specific. His height is emphasized even more because I'm so short - 5'4", well, actually 5'3".......until this morning when the doctor told me I was really 5'2" now.  Yes, I am the incredible shrinking woman and Tall Guy towers over me.

But I digress....again.....

Tall Guy wasn't sure that he wanted to cheat, and you know my advice to anyone who's not sure - don't do it. So, I assumed that Tall Guy would never become a notch on my bedpost, but we continued to correspond anyway. Why?  Because I liked him. Very much. 

The months flew by - February, March. In March he started thinking he might like to get together. April - nothing.  May - he decided he wanted to meet.  I'll admit that I was nervous, mainly because I had put him in the "not gonna happen" category and I was very surprised when he jumped  into the "let's meet once and see how it goes" category. 

It went very well. The first thing I noticed when I walked in the room was that, even though I knew he was tall, he was really, really tall. He walked over to give me a hug and a kiss and I had to look straight up and stand on my tippy toes and he had to bend way over to make it happen. I chuckled to myself at the unusual situation and then I realized that there could very well be some logistical issues to address as the afternoon unfolded. 

He took my hand and stepped over to the bed and sat down.  Then we were almost eye level.  Almost.  And he kissed me again.  That's when the magic happened. Wow. Sparks, fireworks, whatever you want to call it.  And I was shocked. Jumping from "not gonna happen" to "let's meet once and see how it goes" is one thing, but leaping all the way over to "this could be serious" is crazy and it caught me off guard.

As I said, it went very well. It was a wonderful afternoon in just about every way. I'm not going to tell the sex story in this post, but never fear, I will soon. This post has another point entirely.

I left that meeting happy, very satisfied, and convinced that we were moving in a new direction together. I expected to hear something from him soon afterwards. Nothing. After sending him a message, he shared with me that he was feeling guilty and needed some time to work it out. 

Then I got the "let's be friends" email. Not only was that the content, but that was definitely the feel of it as well.  It was much more distant than what he had written to me recently.

"Hi Kat, I fear I may have hurt your feelings and if I have, I am very, very sorry.  You are an intelligent, warm, and welcoming person and I am glad to have met you.  I've enjoyed our chats and the friendship we built.  I really hope that can continue.  Also, I did enjoy our time together very much and am sorry my own issues have dampened that for you.I don't know what else to say … I sincerely hope I haven't hurt you.  If I have, I am sorry."

Fuck. You know when someone calls you intelligent soon after fucking you it can't be good. At first I was confused. The encounter we had wasn't a friendly fuck.  There was much more passion to it. There was more of everything that you would want. But, hoping that I could still save face, I wrote a very polite, albeit brief, reply:

"Thanks for your note.  I appreciate your thoughts. I was hurt because it seemed like you regretted our meeting and seeing me. It made something really nice seem dirty. I'd like to continue our friendship, too. I have no regrets.  I think you're an extraordinary man."

The message was very docile, but I was angry. I was angry and him for not knowing what he wanted and I was angry at myself for allowing myself to be drawn in beyond the emotional safety zone before I was sure he was ready.  I was angry at SNS Guy for pulling the rug out from under me and kicking me to the curb months before (a little delayed anger, I know).  I was angry at T for his on again - off again efforts to keep me at a safe emotional distance.  I was angry at JJ for disappearing from my life.  I was angry at Hubby for...well, for a lot of things. I felt jerked around and used and every man I'd been mad at in the past 6 months popped into my head and I sat in my car and raged at them all at once.

By the time I was done, I had decided that I wasn't going to have anything to do with any of them ever again.  I was done.  Well, except for maybe SNS Guy because he was my best friend, and still is, in spite of what had happened.  And except for T because, as you all know, he's like crack for me and I knew I'd need another fix soon. And Hubby, well, we had to finish raising our youngest son, so he could stay around until LittleTomKat turned 18, but that was it!

For the rest of May, email with Tall Guy was polite and friendly, but not as frequent as it had been before we met. In June, it became more frequent again, more personal. At some point during June, we both realized that we had moved out of that "let's be friends" category to the "this is serious" category. In early July, he decided that he was really ready to meet again. We did.  It was amazing.

I'm not exactly sure when I started to love him, but I know I fought it. Every warning light in my brain started going off at once, telling me that being emotionally vulnerable - again - was a bad idea. But every time I talked or chatted with him I couldn't see those warning lights at all. I only saw him.

And that's how it is today.

All I Need Is a Little Alpha

Hubby came home last night and we went to bed. I was all prepared, as I said I would be, but he seemed surprised about the whole thing.

Hubby:  Oh, you wanna have sex?

Kat:  You're the one who texted me that you took a pill.  Doesn't that always mean that you want sex?

Hubby: Uh. Ok.  We can do that.

There's nothing like a response like that to make a gal feel wanted (yes, that was sarcasm). I didn't let it deter me, though. I answered with a perky, "Great!" and jumped into bed.

Things started off like they always do.  He grabbed some lube and started fingering me. If you would just warm me up a bit, the lube would be completely unnecessary, I thought, but I didn't say it.  I've said it enough before.

If he wasn't going to help with the warm up, I'd handle it myself, so I reached down and started stroking his cock while I thought about my last visit with my Sweetie.  Oh yeah.  I came in no time.

He got up on his knees, his favorite position for getting a BJ. He was rock hard.  Thank God for those little pills (yes, the pills that we pay for ourselves, that insurance doesn't cover....and I've never whined about that once).

I took him into my mouth and started sucking on him slowly, getting reacquainted with his cock.  I will say this for Hubby; he has a lovely cock. Bigger than average, nice shape. After a few strokes I started to get into it. I reached around, squeezed his butt, and pulled him forward every time I went down.

That's when it happened. He started thrusting his his hips forward a bit, then he put his hand on the back of my head, gripped my hair, and pulled me onto him every time he thrusted forward.

Oh. my. god. That tiny bit of alpha behavior was all I needed to get that buzz of desire.  I dove down and took that throbbing cock into my throat and kept swallowing until I almost passed out. Then I took a breath and sucked the cum right out of him.  He actually yelled as he came. That hasn't happened for years.

We rested together after.  I snuggled up next to him and instead of acting like he wanted me on the other side of the bed immediately, he started running his fingers through my hair as we talked.

I was ready go again, but I didn't think he'd be able to.  Still, I lightly squeezed his balls and brushed his cock every now and then. Fifteen minutes later, he was getting hard again.

I started stroking him, and he said, "Uh, Kat, you know that's an illusion.  I won't cum again."

"Such a negative attitude," I whined as I kept stroking.

When he was fully hard again, I rolled over to straddle him.

"What about your knees?!" he said quickly.

I slid his cock inside me and said, "Fuck my knees," just before I leaned over and kissed his neck.

Ok, I'll admit it, my knees were killing me, but I wasn't going to let the moment go. He was going to cum a second time. I suspected he'd need some help. So I started whispering in his ear as I rocked my hips, grinding my clit against him.

"Did you like it when your little slut, M, rode you?  Did she do it like this or did you like her to sit up straight and tall so you could see her little tits and watch your cock as it slid in and out of her? "

He didn't say anything, but he gabbed my hips and started pulling me, guiding me exactly how he wanted.

"Mmmm, nice. I'll bet she was a good little slut and did exactly what you said, didn't she? Did she love your cock as much as I do? Did she suck on it?  Was she good at that?"

He spoke, breathlessly. "No one does it like you do."

Wow. That made me smile, and it almost made me lose focus, but I held on.

"That's because you know I love you.  But her cunt was always nice and tight for you, wasn't it?"

He started pumping, thrusting his hips upward.  Then suddenly he stopped and said, "Get off.  I want you from behind."

Yeehaw! I thought. Here we go.... but then  I couldn't get off.  My knees had frozen up. LOL.  Yes.  I was stuck.  I whispered in his ear, "I'm sure M never got stuck on you, did she?"  And we both burst into laughter.

Slowly, very slowly, he helped me and I managed to get off and change positions.  I was afraid that the hot mood was dead, but he got behind me, entered me and said, "Actually, her cunt was always perfect - warm, wet, tight.... Now shut the fuck up!" And he brought his hand down hard on my ass.

SLAP!

Ouch!  But.....holy shit!  Where did that come from???  I felt a little shudder in my pussy. That's it.  All I need is a little Alpha, Dear.

He grabbed both my hips and started fucking me hard and fast. I tried to move with him, but I couldn't, he was in control.  All I could do was hold on.

Then he said something that made my heart stop.

"Is this the way JJ fucked you?"

Shit.  I didn't know what to say.  The whole truth?  That would be, "yes, but harder and faster and with a thicker cock."  I decided that partial truth would do, so I just said, "Yes."

He slapped my ass again. Hard! And he started pumping me harder.

Then I had JJ on the brain, and I came very quickly after that, but he didn't slow down, which made it much more intense.

A few minutes later, he came, and he groaned loudly as he did. He pulled me back onto him and held me tightly for a while.  Then he released me and collapsed on the bed next to me.  I rolled over.  He reached over and took my hand.  We were both quiet for awhile. I was the one who spoke first.

"Was that pill one from the doctor or one from that online pharmacy that I found?"

"Online," he said, still catching his breath.

We looked at each other and we both smiled, then laughed.

A few minutes later, he said, "Kat?"

"Yes?"

"I don't think I can take another pill for a few days."

We laughed again.

"That's ok," I told him.  "Let's just stay in today, shall we?  Today was ...uh.....pretty good, don't you think?"

No answer. Just as I turned to look at him, I heard the snore. Poor guy was tuckered out.

And I was amazed. Just when I think it won't ever get any better, he surprises me.  All he needed was a little more help from me, and all I needed was a little bit of Alpha.

Cock Flavored Soup

I have a feeling I know what this would taste like.

Is Any Sex Better Than No Sex?

Hubby is out and about with friends tonight and I'm at home being Mom.  Well, I'm always Mom, but you know what I mean. I'm caring for the kittens.

He texted me a few minutes ago.

"I forgot to tell you, I took a pill. :-D"

Of course it's obvious what pill he was talking about because he never gets all smiley over his blood pressure pill or his vitamins.

His text was Hubby-speak for "Let's have sex tonight."

What happened to the days of cuddling and talking and sex arising as a spontaneous result of desire?  Most of the spontaneous thing left when kids came along. Now, it all comes down to a medical announcement.

Great. I guess the few hours of being with the kids between now and when he gets home is supposed to be the foreplay.

I hate to project negatively, but if tonight is anything like the last several times a pill was taken, it won't be anything to write home about.  Know what I mean?  It's not all his fault, either. It takes two for sex to be as boring and routine as ours. I've tried to initiate new things, but we always end up going back to the same old thing.  I could do a better job of faking excitement, I suppose, but that's very hard to do with a man who won't kiss you.

I've talked about, and many of you have experienced, the pain of rejection when you tell your spouse you'd like to have sex and he (or she) rebuffs your advances. It sucks. But trying to build up some excitement during the act and to have that ignored is a kind of rejection, too.  Who knew it would be possible to feel rejection during the act of sex? Well, it is.

In those situations, is that act of intercourse better than not having sex at all?  I don't think so. Not having sex with the person you love can be frustrating and upsetting, but having soulless, completely unpassionate sex can be worse because you go into it thinking you have a chance for some intimacy when in reality it's just something physical. Two animals copulating. Wow. Who wants that?  Many may choose to live with it, but who would want that kind of a sex life?

Not me.

I'm sure it doesn't help that I have experienced what real passion and intimacy are, so the comparison makes "pill nights" feel even more empty.

I'm sure I'll hear from people who have no spouse or partner telling me that I should be grateful.  I am grateful, very grateful, for my husband. I love him very much.  He means the world to me. He's the father of my children.  But I'm not going to pretend I'm grateful for spirit killing sex. No way. That's like saying that you're grateful for financial problems because at least it means you have something to lose.

Above all, I am frustrated. How can two people who love each other as much as we do, who have been committed to each other for so long, who have been through hell and back together, who can talk to each other about just about anything be so incapable of making an intimate and satisfying sexual connection? I don't get it.  There was a time when it was there.  That's why we continue to chase it and try, I think.

I've thought about talking with him about it .....again.....but how do you tell someone you love that you feel so distant from them during sex that it's painful? That you feel closer to them and more connected when they're sick and puking their guts out than you do during sex. That you feel closer to them just about anytime than you do during sex.  How do you do that?  And how do you change it?  We've tried the books and videos and all the professional advise over the years.  It helped a little.  The best post-children sex we ever had was the night he learned I had been cheating. That lasted for a few months.  He was making an effort to compete, I think, and if he would keep doing that our sex life would be good.  Not great, but good. But he fell back in the old routine and I let him....and here we are.

When the pill text came, I just looked at it for a moment and felt the flood of emotions wash through. Then I responded with a cute little texted kiss, exactly what was expected of me. I'll take a shower later on and pick up the bedroom, and pull out some lube and some toys (that won't be used). I'll go through the motions of getting ready.  When he comes home, I'll decide.  Do I try to spice things up with enthusiasm and sheer will and risk feeling that during-the-act-rejection? Or do I just go with the flow and see if something magically changes?

It's not that I don't like sex.  To the contrary, I love it! But sex without enthusiasm and passion is not what I want.  I can get that from someone from my AM phone list very quickly, without the emotional struggle of wishing it were better.

At this point in my life, I want more.

Carpe Diem

This scene from Dead Poets Society really hit home for me 25 years ago when the film came out. I had been with Hubby for a couple of years by then, and my life had settled quite nicely into what I thought I wanted at the time. College degree, working in my chosen field, wonderful husband, graduate school.  Soon my oldest son would come along and I'd have it all. I didn't know it at the time, but I was about to hit what is known as the "Quarter Life Crisis."  It's much like the midlife crisis, except that it happens around 25 when after years of working toward a goal, you've achieved the goal and you start to wonder, "Is this all there is?"

That's where I was when I saw this.



Carpe Diem. Seize the day. All we have is this one life here on earth, and then it will be gone. Poof. At the time, I assumed, believe it or not, that I'd seize the day later, after I raised a child or two, reached the pinnacle of my career, and won some Good Housekeeping awards.

But then a couple of years after my son was born, I met W, the man with whom I had my first affair. I was relatively happy in my marriage, but exhausted from trying to be superwoman. I was envious of my husband and all his free time while I was working and going to school. I went to a Ladies Retreat for my church and I asked some of the older women about how I was feeling, and they told me that that's just the way it would be until my kids were grown. I tried to stay calm, but inside I was screaming, "Are you fucking kidding me?!?" I left the retreat early, thinking that I could depress myself quite well at home; I didn't need their help.

But it all changed with W.  I felt alive again. Not only did he fill in some of the sexual voids in my life, but with him in my life, I felt like my life was complete.  Nothing else had changed.  I was still exhausted. I was still envious of my husband. But I was happy. It felt like my relationship with W was a little corner of my life that was just mine, shared with no one, and it made it possible for me to happily walk through the rest of my life. My relationship with Hubby got better and better. W and I met online and chatted for a few months before meeting, but when it came time to make a decision about meeting him, it was Robin Williams and this scene from Dead Poets Society that came to mind.

Carpe Diem.

Believe it or not, in most areas of my life, I'm not the risk taker I am in my prowling life. I'm a rule follower and law obeyer. I'm the person who stops at a red light on a country road in the middle of the night even though no one is around for miles. Why? Because it's the right thing to do. I work hard, arrive early and stay late, not because anyone tells me to, but because that's what needs to be done and it's the right thing to do. I let my husband get away with far too much irresponsibility in our marriage because I love him and I want him to be happy. It feels like the right thing to do. I could go on and on. Those who know me in most areas of my life would never believe that I'm Kat.  Never. Kat takes risks like they are nothing. They woman they know meets her insurance company's qualifications for safe driver every year.  She always wears sunscreen and her seat belt (always), she takes medication exactly as it is prescribed, and she gets her annual exam at exactly the same time each year. She thoroughly reads everything - yes, everything - before she signs it and she would never, ever put her own needs ahead of those of her family. Most importantly, she would never cheat on her husband.

Sometimes I start to believe that that's really who I am.  When I look back on the night I met Seattle Guy, I wonder how I ever found the nerve to do it.  That took some serious lady balls, if you know what I mean.  How did I do it?

Carpe Diem.  I couldn't not do it. And I haven't regretted it for a second. In fact, now I can't imagine my life without him in it. It all would have been different, though, if I hadn't taken the risk. In the blink of an eye, that opportunity would have been lost forever because I was afraid.

It's easy to see what you may have accomplished in your life, but what about the experiences you never had because you were afraid to take the risk? Those are the ones that can haunt me in the night.

As I've matured, I've become even more committed to not leaving any of my life unlived. I have this quote by Henry David Thoreau posted in my office and I read it every day:

“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, To put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die Discover that I had not lived.”

My playmates have literally helped me "suck out all the marrow of life," in more ways than one.

This is another favorite:

How are you living today? Are you seizing every day, every moment, or are you just passing time by choosing the safe route?

You know my choice.

Crack

He really is like crack for me.

Thursday night I had a Facebook chat with T. I haven't seen him for awhile and we rarely chat for a variety of reasons. I hesitate to write about him here because it was posting about him here that made him break up with me - the first time - because he didn't want a relationship.

We've been together several times since then, in spite of having no relationship, because the sex is very, very nice.  Chemistry, like I said when I wrote about our first meeting.  Chemistry and his amazingly advanced oral skills.

About the whole "relationship" thing.....It is my opinion that any time you have more than one encounter of any kind with a person, you have some type of relationship.  There are as many kinds of relationships as there are people. I think that T and I definitely have a relationship.  It's not a traditional one by any stretch. It's not leading to marriage or even love, but it's quite nice. I quit trying to debate the semantics with him months ago.  So, we don't have a relationship.

Anyway, we started chatting and he started talking a bit dirty and - BAM! - my pussy was wet and I was craving him. Just like that. Why did that happen?  Because, as I said, he's like crack for me.  I can be involved in my normal life, thinking about him here and there fondly, and all is well.  But then when he talks to me or sends me naughty messages, my body starts craving him again and won't stop until we've been together or a week or so of "detox" has passed.

It turns out that we may have an opportunity to get together next week. (Cue the damp panties and hard nipples.) Try as I will to go about my daily life, I'll end up thinking about him often - and masturbating a lot - over the next several days. I'll probably fuck Hubby a few times, too.

But nothing will satisfy the craving.  Nothing but him, and a couple of hours in bed within the context of our very hot non-relationship.

Infidelity

I've been thinking about this concept a lot lately.  Unfaithfulness. Infidelity.

Essentially, it means not keeping your promise, and it has come to be used almost exclusively with the act of not maintaining sexual fidelity.

Marriages split up because one spouse had sex with someone outside the marriage. It has come to the point where it is almost the single most valued thing in a marriage. "I can put up with anything as long as he doesn't cheat on me."  Really?

I've been told many times that if I'm going to cheat, I should just end it, as if sexual fidelity is all there is and if you don't have that you have nothing. That's just bullshit.

A long term marriage is a very complicated thing. It involves being with someone day in and day out, often while raising children, and doing your best to support, not squash, each other's hopes and dreams.  It involves sickness and puke and seeing your partner in the most physically unattractive ways and still trying to maintain a sexual attraction. It involves a massive amount of forgiveness and humility. And love. Especially love.

I've shared with you before that my marriage vows were rather unconventional and didn't include most of the typical language of marriage vows, but the point was the same. I promised to be his partner in life, no matter what. That's it in a nutshell. I promised that nothing would ever make me walk away from him. Nothing means nothing. I promised to be in it for the long haul - in sickness, health, good times, bad times.While our vows didn't include a sexual fidelity component, most do, and it was pretty much understood in ours.  We just didn't say it.

The core of my commitment - and his - was that we would stay together no matter what. I would consider my husband truly unfaithful if he walked way from the marriage.  Anything short of that may fall under the "sickness, worst of times, or poorer" part, but it's certainly not cause to leave the marriage.

A word to my divorced friends....I'm not judging you.  To make a long term marriage work, both people must be fully committed and do their part to make the marriage work. If one party has checked out there's often nothing the other can do.

For those of you thinking, "What about abusive relationships?" I'll admit that my "no matter what" promise has two conditions - physically abusing me or abusing our children in ANY way. In those cases, I would leave immediately, but I can't say what would happen in the long run.  I've seen many families recover from such awful situations.  Each has to judge for him/herself.

But I digress.....again.  What I'm trying to say is that sexual infidelity does not erase years of fidelity to all the other promises. My husband has been with many other women during our marriage, and I didn't know about it until fairly recently. Should that outweigh everything he's done to honor our marriage over the past 27 years? Of course not. He's been my partner through thick and thin for a long, long time.  He's the father of my children.  So what if he likes to fuck younger women?  If it were a problem for me, we'd have to deal with that, but if it were so much of a problem that I'd throw everything away because of it, I'd be an idiot.

The opposite is also true.  If he was so twisted up over me having sexual encounters with other men that he couldn't see all the good in our relationship, he'd be an idiot.  But he can see beyond it.  He doesn't like it, and it was very upsetting for him when he first discovered it, but it's not going to destroy the marriage. Our marriage is about much, much more than sex. Most married couples understand that, but then they turn bat shit crazy over a single incident of cheating. It's illogical and shortsighted.

Let's look at it from another angle. If a marriage is reasonably good in most respects (or even if it isn't right now, but you believe in staying together no matter what), but the sex life is dead and there is nothing you can do to revive it, is it so bad to have those needs met elsewhere?  Obviously, I don't think so, but I am aware that I am in a minority. Does it make any sense at all to let sexual dysfunction or the lack of marital sex cause the downfall of the whole relationship?  Not to me.

I'm not saying that all marriages should be open relationships, but it's silly to let lack of sex poison things. It's just one piece of the marital relationship, after all.

Yes, I do think that the best case scenario is to have a healthy intimacy with your spouse that includes an awesome and ever-exciting sex life. If you've been married over 20 years and you have that and neither of you has cheated, God bless you. You have life's golden ticket.  Don't take it for granted.

If you're unmarried, or if you've been married for less than 18-20 years, you need to stop pushing morality that you can't possibly understand onto other people. I often wonder how many marriages split up because one spouse cheats and the other is pushed and prodded into divorce by well meaning friends and family members who don't truly understand the value of a long term loving, albeit imperfect, relationship with another human being.

Too often, we try to make very complex things simpler by narrowing them down to a few simple rules. That's what has happened with marriage and infidelity. Unfortunately, no matter how much you try to make it simpler, marriage isn't so easily "managed," neither is anything truly valuable in life.

If someone were to ask me if my husband has been faithful to me over these past 27 years, my answer would be, "In almost every way, and certainly in all the ways that really matter. I'm a very fortunate woman." His answer would be the same.