My search continues apace. My eight finalists became three rather quickly, as I determined that the other five and I were unlikely to be compatible.
Last night, one of the three rather abruptly excused himself from the field. I'll include the salient e-mails, sent between 10:00 and 11:30 last night. He had sent his photograph, which wasn't thrilling, but was certainly within the bounds of "doable" to me. His words were what was most important, and they were wonderful. I returned with several of my own photos. I brought up that old joke about how friends help you move, real friends help you move bodies... (work with me, it was salient to the e-mails leading up to it.)
Him:
I desperately need to get to bed ASAP, as I'll be getting up at an obscenely early hour tomorrow, but I'm afraid I've got to address something with you first, and I think you know what it is....
I'm either about to place my foot squarely in my mouth and render myself the biggest horse's ass in all of Christendom, insulting you mortally in the process and necessarily detonating our nascent friendship, or....
No, let me just stop right there and ask you point-blank:
[Adulteress], is there something you need to tell me -- something that you should have told me right from the start?
Me:
Not that I can think of. Was my moving bodies jest poorly received?
Or was there something else? I've got a decent sense of the absurd, so try me. :)
Him:
All right, I'm just gonna come right out and say it, and if I'm wrong you'll hate me forever and I won't blame you, and we'll just agree to take our leave.
The shot of you [on vacation] looks remarkably....masculine. Are you a transgendered individual, or perhaps a cross-dresser? (And of course if you are a genetic woman, I've just insulted you profoundly.)
Just tell me truth. Please?
Me:
I was born a female, and intend to stay that way. I'll gather that you felt no attraction, and that's fine, but perhaps you might have just said that, rather than impugning my honesty and gender.
Him:
And more regrettable still, I've managed to insult you beyond belief in the process, for which I offer my sincerest apology.
My my, this has been a productive evening, wouldn't you agree?
Oh well, I suppose it could have been worse. I'm not sure quite how, but it's possible!
I truly wish you the very best, and much success. You're an amazing person.
Okay. So let's analyze this for a minute. I spent a few minutes thinking "geez, I always thought that I was more femme than butch. Maybe I've been wrong all along." And not that there's anything wrong with being trans. I'm just...not.
I showed the photo in question to various friends this morning, (without the context that it was a suitor, just saying that someone thought I looked transgendered in that photo), asking for total honesty. None of them, including the transman or gay guy, thought I looked like anything less than a "lovely, genetically and culturally female woman". I'm shaped more like a fertility goddess than a supermodel, for sure, but I made that clear in the original ad. There's no adam's apple, facial hair, or anything like that.
The general consensus is that he was a tactless ass, and I'm better off knowing that now than later.
I'm trying to not be all self-conscious about this, and I will likely retire that photo from the stuff I send to potential suitors. Gah.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
In which I advertise for a lover
Craigslist is rough for both men and women. I'm told that guys get a ton of spam and just a few real responses. Ladies get a superfluity of replies, but also get flagged quickly by guys staking their claims.
So I posted my ad, as seen below (with some local-specific things omitted):
Title:(misc romance) MWF seeking long term lover - w4m
Neither what I want nor who I am is for everyone, but I believe that the right man is out there, and that we can enjoy each other for a long time.
I'm in a sexless marriage. There are reasons for this, and I'll happily address them with you once we have gotten to know each other a little bit, but the crux of the matter is that I'm not comfortable with one-night stands, I am too young to go the rest of my life without sex, and I'm neither willing nor able to get out of my marriage. For this reason, I am seeking a lover.
I want a man who is comfortable with himself, adept at written and verbal communication (this sounds like a job application!), between 30 and 55 years old, loves sex yet doesn't want to be promiscuous, and can talk about more than just the next position we'll encounter as we seek to please each other. Ideally, he's emotionally available, not psychotic, and able to meet a few times a month, particularly on weekend evenings.
I'm attractive, practice excellent hygiene, and have never had an STD. I'm interested in technology, love words, and give fantastic blow jobs. I'm touch-starved, and believe that a good kiss is the prelude to everything else. I'm not going to fuck you the first time I meet you, which is one reason why I posted here and not in casual encounters.
If you'd like to discuss this further, and see if we might be compatible, please respond. Use a five-syllable word somewhere in your reply to really impress me. And yes, I'm real and local to [my area, and here was some proof of that].
My post went up at 1:53 p.m., and was flagged by 5:35. In that time, I had 79 respondents. Of those, there were 8 I chose to reply to, and see how it goes. More on them as things develop.
Besides just needing to winnow the field out, 33 were removed because they couldn't spell worth a damn. (It's my kink, I get to indulge it!). I removed 24 people because I think they reply the same thing to every ad. It was a cookie-cutter response. 8 were way out of my age range, 3 weren't looking for something approaching long term, and 3 sent nothing but cock shots (that weren't impressive enough to merit further investigation.)
The five-syllable words of our finalists:
Refrigerator
Decalibration
Polysyllabic
Indescribable
Situational
Communicator
Opportunity
Unbelievable
Their ages range from 31 to 50. Half are married, half single.
Off to correspond with the lucky fellows. I'm excited to see how things turn out.
So I posted my ad, as seen below (with some local-specific things omitted):
Title:(misc romance) MWF seeking long term lover - w4m
Neither what I want nor who I am is for everyone, but I believe that the right man is out there, and that we can enjoy each other for a long time.
I'm in a sexless marriage. There are reasons for this, and I'll happily address them with you once we have gotten to know each other a little bit, but the crux of the matter is that I'm not comfortable with one-night stands, I am too young to go the rest of my life without sex, and I'm neither willing nor able to get out of my marriage. For this reason, I am seeking a lover.
I want a man who is comfortable with himself, adept at written and verbal communication (this sounds like a job application!), between 30 and 55 years old, loves sex yet doesn't want to be promiscuous, and can talk about more than just the next position we'll encounter as we seek to please each other. Ideally, he's emotionally available, not psychotic, and able to meet a few times a month, particularly on weekend evenings.
I'm attractive, practice excellent hygiene, and have never had an STD. I'm interested in technology, love words, and give fantastic blow jobs. I'm touch-starved, and believe that a good kiss is the prelude to everything else. I'm not going to fuck you the first time I meet you, which is one reason why I posted here and not in casual encounters.
If you'd like to discuss this further, and see if we might be compatible, please respond. Use a five-syllable word somewhere in your reply to really impress me. And yes, I'm real and local to [my area, and here was some proof of that].
My post went up at 1:53 p.m., and was flagged by 5:35. In that time, I had 79 respondents. Of those, there were 8 I chose to reply to, and see how it goes. More on them as things develop.
Besides just needing to winnow the field out, 33 were removed because they couldn't spell worth a damn. (It's my kink, I get to indulge it!). I removed 24 people because I think they reply the same thing to every ad. It was a cookie-cutter response. 8 were way out of my age range, 3 weren't looking for something approaching long term, and 3 sent nothing but cock shots (that weren't impressive enough to merit further investigation.)
The five-syllable words of our finalists:
Refrigerator
Decalibration
Polysyllabic
Indescribable
Situational
Communicator
Opportunity
Unbelievable
Their ages range from 31 to 50. Half are married, half single.
Off to correspond with the lucky fellows. I'm excited to see how things turn out.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Back in the Saddle Again
The last few days have been spent doing family things, but always in the back of my mind is the wishlist for my next lover. Who do I want?
Long before I left my marriage bed, I read Craigslist Personals, usually on my phone in the pickup line while waiting for a kid to get out of school. One thing I've always found interesting is the number of men who will take anyone, no matter who, as long as she's willing. I'm not quite so ecumenical in my tastes. I'm not for everyone, and everyone is certainly not for me. There's this one guy who has a large cock who posts it in every ad. Sometimes he wants a nubian princess. Sometimes he wants a BBW. Sometimes he wants a little asian girl. It's like he's ordering a good lay off of a menu. "Tonight, I feel like sushi. Last night, I wanted a cheeseburger..."
So what do I need?
I'm not comfortable with men who are much younger than I am. It's not that I need to recount my favorite Love Boat episodes with someone who saw them when they were originally aired, but I do want to have some basis of commonality, since I want someone for more than just the cock and tongue and fingers attached to him.
I want someone who is intelligent, and I have a specific kink for someone who knows how to spell. The ability to communicate in text is really, really important to me, and text-speak and awful punctuation and misspelling "discreet" are immediate turn-offs to me.
I also can't be the first foray outside of the marriage vows. When I detail how things happened with my last lover, this may make more sense, but I need someone who knows how to compartmentalize real life and fantastic fun time with the Adulteress. Crushing guilt isn't sexy, and I don't want to cause that again for another man.
Physical attributes are less important to me, but oh, please please please let me find a man who smells good and can get and keep his cock hard. I don't mind if it's chemically enhanced turgidity, I just hate getting to that fantastic point where I'm about to be thrust into and then... it's gone.
That's it, really. It would be best if I could find someone who has access to a place to be intimate, or at least is comfortable renting a hotel room. If my schedule and my lover's don't mesh, we'll never find time together. If he has to be politically active, perhaps he could not be a total wingnut on either side. If he has unusual kinks, hopefully he can make time for my fantasies, as well. I'm open to anything that doesn't leave marks or require me to get too intimate with anybody's bodily excretions.
These are the things I want. Next, I need to craft a Craigslist personal ad of my own that will hopefully target someone like this.
Long before I left my marriage bed, I read Craigslist Personals, usually on my phone in the pickup line while waiting for a kid to get out of school. One thing I've always found interesting is the number of men who will take anyone, no matter who, as long as she's willing. I'm not quite so ecumenical in my tastes. I'm not for everyone, and everyone is certainly not for me. There's this one guy who has a large cock who posts it in every ad. Sometimes he wants a nubian princess. Sometimes he wants a BBW. Sometimes he wants a little asian girl. It's like he's ordering a good lay off of a menu. "Tonight, I feel like sushi. Last night, I wanted a cheeseburger..."
So what do I need?
I'm not comfortable with men who are much younger than I am. It's not that I need to recount my favorite Love Boat episodes with someone who saw them when they were originally aired, but I do want to have some basis of commonality, since I want someone for more than just the cock and tongue and fingers attached to him.
I want someone who is intelligent, and I have a specific kink for someone who knows how to spell. The ability to communicate in text is really, really important to me, and text-speak and awful punctuation and misspelling "discreet" are immediate turn-offs to me.
I also can't be the first foray outside of the marriage vows. When I detail how things happened with my last lover, this may make more sense, but I need someone who knows how to compartmentalize real life and fantastic fun time with the Adulteress. Crushing guilt isn't sexy, and I don't want to cause that again for another man.
Physical attributes are less important to me, but oh, please please please let me find a man who smells good and can get and keep his cock hard. I don't mind if it's chemically enhanced turgidity, I just hate getting to that fantastic point where I'm about to be thrust into and then... it's gone.
That's it, really. It would be best if I could find someone who has access to a place to be intimate, or at least is comfortable renting a hotel room. If my schedule and my lover's don't mesh, we'll never find time together. If he has to be politically active, perhaps he could not be a total wingnut on either side. If he has unusual kinks, hopefully he can make time for my fantasies, as well. I'm open to anything that doesn't leave marks or require me to get too intimate with anybody's bodily excretions.
These are the things I want. Next, I need to craft a Craigslist personal ad of my own that will hopefully target someone like this.
Friday, June 25, 2010
The terribly unlucky bunny
On New Year's Day this year, I had a first date with a guy who seemed engaging and hot. Conveniently, he was single, not concerned with my marital status, and had a home to himself. I'm not generally comfortable with putting out on the first date, but I shaved my legs and was ready for action in the event that we really, really hit it off.
Adam and I had met on Craigslist a few days before, talked on the phone, e-mailed, and all seemed well. We met at a restaurant near his home, ate dinner, and I was my sparkly, awesome self. He told me about his job, I told him a little about my situation. He was fresh out of a divorce, and really needed someone to listen.
This should have been my first sign that it would all go to hell, but I was hopeful and horny, so we soldiered on through dinner. He asked if I'd like to see a movie at his house -- he had "Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist", and I've got a dirty old lady thing going for Michael Cera, so how could I resist?
I should have resisted.
I followed him home to his charming suburban home. It had snowed recently, and the driveway and sidewalk were freshly shoveled, so he couldn't possibly be a serial killer, right?
Once we entered his house, I noted the total lack of furniture in the front parlor. I assumed his ex had gotten it in the divorce, and headed on back to the den. I expected we would cuddle up on the couch, make out, and see where the night would lead us.
I was partially right -- we got the movie started, but we almost immediately heard an unbelievably loud scratching sound. It was his pet rabbit, begging to be let out of the cage. He got up, let it out to hop around, and invited me to cuddle.
I'm a total sucker for any tactile stimulation. I really miss being touched by a man, particularly one who is attracted to me. I settled in and enjoyed the movie. When Adam's bunny hopped up next to him, he alternated between scratching between its ears and running a hand up and down my arm. It wasn't ideal, but it beat sitting in front of the tube at home.
About halfway through the movie, I looked up at him to see if he was thinking of more than just the arm rub. He got a glint in his eye, and then, all of a sudden, jumped up and started swearing. It took me a few minutes to work it out, but apparently his bunny had pissed all over him and the couch.
We paused the movie and he ran upstairs to change clothes, while I cleaned bunny pee off of his couch. I could have left it, but my inner mom took over.
Eventually, he came down (in sweats), we moved to the dry two-thirds of the couch, and finished the movie. I think we both tried to get into the mood, but really, after rabbit excreta, there's nowhere to go. We finished the movie, I thanked him for a lovely evening, and drove on home to my lonely bed once more.
I e-mailed him the next day, and heard nothing. I can't be too surprised, and honestly, I'm not that disappointed. There are other fish in the sea. Ideally, those fish have potty-trained pets.
Adam and I had met on Craigslist a few days before, talked on the phone, e-mailed, and all seemed well. We met at a restaurant near his home, ate dinner, and I was my sparkly, awesome self. He told me about his job, I told him a little about my situation. He was fresh out of a divorce, and really needed someone to listen.
This should have been my first sign that it would all go to hell, but I was hopeful and horny, so we soldiered on through dinner. He asked if I'd like to see a movie at his house -- he had "Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist", and I've got a dirty old lady thing going for Michael Cera, so how could I resist?
I should have resisted.
I followed him home to his charming suburban home. It had snowed recently, and the driveway and sidewalk were freshly shoveled, so he couldn't possibly be a serial killer, right?
Once we entered his house, I noted the total lack of furniture in the front parlor. I assumed his ex had gotten it in the divorce, and headed on back to the den. I expected we would cuddle up on the couch, make out, and see where the night would lead us.
I was partially right -- we got the movie started, but we almost immediately heard an unbelievably loud scratching sound. It was his pet rabbit, begging to be let out of the cage. He got up, let it out to hop around, and invited me to cuddle.
I'm a total sucker for any tactile stimulation. I really miss being touched by a man, particularly one who is attracted to me. I settled in and enjoyed the movie. When Adam's bunny hopped up next to him, he alternated between scratching between its ears and running a hand up and down my arm. It wasn't ideal, but it beat sitting in front of the tube at home.
About halfway through the movie, I looked up at him to see if he was thinking of more than just the arm rub. He got a glint in his eye, and then, all of a sudden, jumped up and started swearing. It took me a few minutes to work it out, but apparently his bunny had pissed all over him and the couch.
We paused the movie and he ran upstairs to change clothes, while I cleaned bunny pee off of his couch. I could have left it, but my inner mom took over.
Eventually, he came down (in sweats), we moved to the dry two-thirds of the couch, and finished the movie. I think we both tried to get into the mood, but really, after rabbit excreta, there's nowhere to go. We finished the movie, I thanked him for a lovely evening, and drove on home to my lonely bed once more.
I e-mailed him the next day, and heard nothing. I can't be too surprised, and honestly, I'm not that disappointed. There are other fish in the sea. Ideally, those fish have potty-trained pets.
Our heroine, up until now...
Christmas Day, 2008, was quite possibly the worst day in my life. I knew that my marriage wasn't in the best straits -- my husband and I hadn't had sex for three years, I was quickly approaching that mythical sexual peak, and I was ready to cut bait.
After opening gifts, my husband asked what I had really wanted, since I seemed so disappointed with his gifts to me.
"All I want is to get laid," I grumbled.
"Wifelet," (which is what he calls me) "If you haven't figured it out yet on your own, I need to let you know that I'm gay. We're never going to have sex again. At least, not with each other."
To be very honest, it wasn't the world's biggest shock. My husband is a manly kind of dude, but nothing I was doing in an attempt to fix our lack of romance was working. I'd lost a hundred pounds, offered blow jobs in lingerie or au naturale, and had suffered nothing but rejection for a long enough time.
I think he hoped I'd figure it out, he'd go on doing whatever it is that he does with whoever it is he does it with, and I'd stay home every night with our kids and explode in a shower of snark every few weeks, masturbating every time I was alone. Kind of like I'd been doing for the last three years. I wasn't willing to deal with this state of, well, affairs.
There are both financial and logistical reasons to stay married. We're a lot closer to the poverty line than we'd like to be. While I could probably maintain our home on my own income, maybe, there's no way he could live anywhere safe enough for our children to spend time with him on his income. Our kids deserve him around every day. I still like him, and he's still my best friend. I'm far more financially responsible than he is and we live together quite amicably.
A marriage without intimacy isn't what I signed up for more than a decade ago, and so we needed to develop new rules. Here they are:
1. Don't be an idiot. This means that our love lives don't cross into our family life, we don't ever have unsafe sex, and we keep the other informed about when we'll be home and where we are if we're out.
2. We need to be roughly equitable in who gets to go out and who stays home with the kids.
3. Neither of us is particularly interested in the details of what we're doing with our respective paramours, so we've got a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" kind of arrangement.
Since we came to our understanding, I've had a couple of lovers, and kissed a number of frogs. I find myself ready to seek my next lover, and thought that I should write about the adventures I've had and chronicle my ongoing search.
After opening gifts, my husband asked what I had really wanted, since I seemed so disappointed with his gifts to me.
"All I want is to get laid," I grumbled.
"Wifelet," (which is what he calls me) "If you haven't figured it out yet on your own, I need to let you know that I'm gay. We're never going to have sex again. At least, not with each other."
To be very honest, it wasn't the world's biggest shock. My husband is a manly kind of dude, but nothing I was doing in an attempt to fix our lack of romance was working. I'd lost a hundred pounds, offered blow jobs in lingerie or au naturale, and had suffered nothing but rejection for a long enough time.
I think he hoped I'd figure it out, he'd go on doing whatever it is that he does with whoever it is he does it with, and I'd stay home every night with our kids and explode in a shower of snark every few weeks, masturbating every time I was alone. Kind of like I'd been doing for the last three years. I wasn't willing to deal with this state of, well, affairs.
There are both financial and logistical reasons to stay married. We're a lot closer to the poverty line than we'd like to be. While I could probably maintain our home on my own income, maybe, there's no way he could live anywhere safe enough for our children to spend time with him on his income. Our kids deserve him around every day. I still like him, and he's still my best friend. I'm far more financially responsible than he is and we live together quite amicably.
A marriage without intimacy isn't what I signed up for more than a decade ago, and so we needed to develop new rules. Here they are:
1. Don't be an idiot. This means that our love lives don't cross into our family life, we don't ever have unsafe sex, and we keep the other informed about when we'll be home and where we are if we're out.
2. We need to be roughly equitable in who gets to go out and who stays home with the kids.
3. Neither of us is particularly interested in the details of what we're doing with our respective paramours, so we've got a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" kind of arrangement.
Since we came to our understanding, I've had a couple of lovers, and kissed a number of frogs. I find myself ready to seek my next lover, and thought that I should write about the adventures I've had and chronicle my ongoing search.
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