A Bad Review and a Glimmer of Faith, Part 2

The next day was Thanksgiving Eve. I’d expected to wish EG well on his trip to see family and spend the evening cleaning up for Thanksgiving with BFF. I had a dystopian audiobook ready and everything! 1984 from Julia’s perspective!!!

But EG wasn’t leaving til 10 that night and was determined to wedge in some sex, in-person or virtual. I told him I was in chore mode but I’d see him after the holiday, but send cute pictures! I meant, like, what’s your Thanksgiving dinner sweater like, but he said “No promises, I’m sharing a room with my brothers.” I guess there was only one kind of picture he was interested in sending.

And he wasn’t backing down on the before-he-left sex. “How about fifteen minutes going down on you and 15 minutes penetration?” He typed, after I’d said no.

Is this what I’m supposed to be? A sex app, ready whenever you need me, no basic courtesy required?

I again should have blocked him but I tried to be cute instead, sending back a Ma’am-ish “You need to learn to take no for an answer.”

“Forget I said anything, Ma’am.”

“Forgotten, (kiss emoji)”

But as I folded clothes and swept up, I realized this wasn’t a thing I liked.

“Are you looking for strictly just sex?” I typed. “I tend to like chitchat no matter what kind of connection. I understand if you’re looking for something more casual.”

And then Entitled Guy was pissed.

“After one night of terrible virtual sex you ask me this?”

The difference of perspective about the night before was jarring—where I’d experienced playfulness, openness, so much hopeful hotness, he’d found something lacking. I had let him do most of the work (those <3 lovely! <3 voice memos!) but that seemed in line with him wanting to be a Good Boy in the first place!

I guess maybe the “terrible” was because I didn’t want to Facetime? To have been un-terrible, would I have had to do what he wanted, when he wanted it?

Am I just playing an entirely different game from everyone else? Is it time to put away the Ma’am/Good Boy part of what I like?

Thinking back to my beautiful 2022 Good Boy, I hope not! Though that connection was fleeting and didn’t really have a real-daily-life potential, he was so cute, playful, and fun! (Pardon me while I pause to compose an opera to his dick, too!) And there was so much adorable chitchat in that dynamic! I remember the passion with which he told me why Sunkern is the worst Pokémon! (He said it with such contempt! Sunkern!) I remember him singing along to Carly Rae Jepsen’s Boy Problems! I think, I hope, The Good Boy felt fully human and fully celebrated—I know I did!

Ugh this year of dating! There have been some real gems, and like three or four languages I started learning, but my heart hasn’t moved forward as much as I’d hoped it would. If I’m honest, my heart spent most of its time this year mourning and still loving The Shy One. It’s so annoying that he set me free to find My Person and this is the dating year I’ve had!

I can always keep trying, can always keep hoping that someone will sweep me past that memory and into a new swirl of emotion. But also, if that’s what I needed this year for, okay. I’m in a process and I don’t think a cute shortcut is coming to speed things along. It’s okay. I have time.

A Bad Review, a Glimmer of Faith, Part One

 

On my Feeld profile, it says I’m looking for “Boyfriend Material and/or Good Boys to tie up.” I’m wondering if I should get rid of the latter part, dispense with the “and/or” and let go of the hope that any more meaningful “Ma’am” experiences are coming my way. I feel demoralized and SO tired of dating—I’m wondering if the apps are maybe too harsh for me, if I even know what people mean when they say “connection.” Some of this is just..winter, but some of it is last week’s adventure with Entitled Guy.

He started out with a sweet curiosity that reminded me of 2022’s Good Boy—plus he’s a little older, 33 to TGB’s 27, that seemed good! He started out as kind and thoughtful. We talked about books! He’s really into brain books! So am I!

I don’t usually sext before I meet someone in person, but I was feeling cozy and adventurous last Tuesday night so I asked if he would like to tell me what he would do if he was over. Tuesday is one of my loooong workdays, so I microdose THC when I get home. I was open and wet and tired and game.

He wrote back! With voice memos! In a sweet, careful voice, he told me very respectfully (Maybe even a little too respectfully) all the things he would like to do to me. It was meticulous and detail-oriented—I was impressed that he could just TALK OUT such lovely smut! His story made me so swoony that I couldn’t find words! I told him that and he sent! More voice memos! With more kindly details, gently working his way to a more explicit but still very respectful story.

He asked if we could Facetime, and I said that I didn’t want to, but he could send me a video if he’d like. Sometimes guys think you’re a catfish if you don’t Facetime-on-demand, so I made him a cute video with angles I liked, just me saying hi in my pajamas, nothing naked yet.

He sent me a video I LOVED, playing with his gorgeous dick, but also sent a text pushing for Facetime again.

“On FT you would get my face AND my toy.”

(Is this really a selling point? The face part, yes, but did I need to see his Fleshlight or whatever?)

When he tried to push past my first Facetime no, I should have cut off the conversation, but instead, I typed back, “I really don’t want to Facetime, but your dick is so beautiful!”

And I made him a playing-with-boobs video that I liked a lot. I felt like I was being so generous and fun! He was calling me “Ma’am” over text and seemed to be having a LOVELY time!

When we were done, I sent a voice memo praising him for making me feel 

I Did Not Expect to Feel This Way When a Creepy Guy Invaded the Zoom!

 

These days, what even IS a body adventure? I know I should be working on my No-Contact High Fidelity proj and learning the knots on Thursdays, but the sense of hopelessness that’s pervaded my snuggle-outlook since Quarantine Crush is hard to shake. I think a lot about what quarantine-long lack of touch (Aside from some very special occasion exceptions (Like, say, friends are alive after being boxed in during a police-incited riot…) Sweetie and the cats are the only people I can hug or high-five. And the cats are TERRIBLE at high-fiving!) is doing to my brain and body. I’m not really sure what my psyche is up to, but I think it’s time to figure it out.

 

Yesterday, I was “at” my favorite Zoom book talk, sponsored by our local bookstore/coffeeshop. I like to go and mostly mute myself, hear what some local strangers are reading, occasionally unmuting to chime in about a book or invite everyone to a march. This week though: WHOA!

 

We were listening to a lady talk about the cool workbook that comes with Life Before Slavery when, OHNO! I looked up from my doodling to see: A naked, face-hidden white guy playing with his erect penis!

 

“It’s so small!” Exclaimed the lady who was trying to talk about her book. Though I’m resolutely against size-shaming, I so much admired her bravado and he definitely deserved worse! It was just kind of normal-sized, lovely even though it belonged to an invasive, rapey creep. They muted his video feed and we aimed to get back to books.

 

I felt awful for the moderator and for the rest of the group. After a little nervous laughter and dismay, we went back to our talk. I was a little more chatty than usual and was happy to make some new friends for the first time in a while and add some more books to my TBR.

 

What that guy did to our Zoom was evil, violent, hateful and invasive. I can’t believe anyone could be that callous, selfish and cruel to anyone, let alone a neighborhood bookstore!

 

Stepping back and looking at my own physical and emotional reaction, though, I am shocked, SHOCKED and a little alarmed. Though I guess a delayed reaction may come later, I felt no fear, no triggers, no jangled sense of helplessness. What my body felt about being subjected to this nonconsensual cam guy was:

 

…Yay?

 

It could be an adrenaline thing or a self-protective bravado, but I think my reaction is more base, if I can use that word in a non-judgmental way. What stayed in my body for the rest of the evening and a little bit still today was/is a clear, quiet physical happiness. It almost feels like…health.

 

Against all ethics and reason, I felt a sense of possibility and joy. Later, after the talk was done and I finished the dishes and played my phone games and caught up on the news, I had some very nice personal time, with a further-reaching, more hopeful imagination than I’d had in a long time.

 

There were some more sense-making things contributing to that healthy feeling, to be sure. An old friendship dragged itself up yesterday from the Bernie scrap-heap (Hi Pagan Boy! Welcome back if you’re reading!) and I spent a few hours at my own (not the same one) bookstore job for the first time since March. It was a generally good and progress-y day.

 

But. this invasive, creepy moment was the most personal sexual encounter I’d had since those nights taking Quarantine Crush’s songs the wrong way. It was the nearest I’d gotten to getting friendly with a penis since… when was Comedy Guy? Like a year ago at least! In spite of myself, something was fulfilled in me, a glowing little (yet regular-sized) puzzle piece of joy fitting neatly into my Sacral chakra. I have no excuse.

 

I think the take-away here is this: It’s time to stop neglecting my sex drive and my kink. As creative as I’ve gotten with working and socializing remotely, I think there’s a lot of room for improvement in my virtual sex life, which doesn’t currently exist beyond swiping through Bumble and Hinge. I want whatever I find to be consensual, private, and personal of course, but just as surprising and stimulating. I’ll let you know how it goes!