The Big Ugly Blog is an honest and uncensored collection of anecdotes recounting the madcap shenanigans of a perpetually 39 year old divorcee, as she wades through the mire of the murky online dating pool - ravenously searching (evidently in vain) for the man of her dreams...Keep On Dreaming, Baby!

BIG UGLY

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

There May Be Hope Yet, For This Jaded Sexual Deviate..

I guess I probably could've written in the a.m., before Thierry was to arrive, but instead, I opted to clean my disgustingly filthy house in order to make a decent second impression a mon nouveau ami! Now listen, you have to understand that there was a whole entire day in between the day on which we first met, face to face - and our second, scheduled date. And believe me, if I had behaved anything remotely close to the way I had become accustomed to behaving thanks entirely to my unbridled online dating-induced debauchery, that would have been more than ample time for me to get my ass in some kind of a sling, or at the very least - ended up feeling, well...guilty. The day in between the two dates, I sat down in front of my trusty, ole Mac and saw that Mark, my smokin' hot, cyber-sex buddy from Cincinnati, had tried to IM me. Normally I would have held vigil, in front of my computer, waiting for him to come back online and small talk it with me until conversation morphed into a heated sexual escapade, as was the norm, well...our norm. Maybe I should clarify "norm"...Before I met Mark but since engaging in cyber dating, I had dabbled a tiny bit in the whole concept of "getting off" via webcam or the phone, but until my recent discovery of this titillating forum by which to practice safe and rewarding sex, I had never even had phone sex, and I'm a pretty old gal! Mark introduced me to a much more intense level of trust in this arena, hence my willingness to go just about anywhere he led me, ya diggin' me? I have pretty much consistently describe myself as being a follower, not a leader in all areas of my life, to a certain degree, but I am absolutely that way in my relationships with men. Suffice it to say, I like being told what to do, I like to be bossed around in the bedroom, it's a plain and simple fact. Mark was rawther adept at this and I just ate that shit up! It didn't hurt that from the moment I laid eyes on him, well, laid eyes on his profile pics. and the photos he soon began sending to my cell phone, (Yum!) I knew that I was inexorably physically attracted to him. So I became a willing participant in the antics that we both found so, well...stimulating. It did not take very long for me to shed what few inhibitions I still possessed and begin acquiescing to his every whim, which included texting photos of myself depicting exactly what it was he wanted to see as well as watching his fantasies about me reach fruition, eh hemm, in full, blooming color on my computer screen. This and my new-found addiction to finishing, myself, either on his voicemail or while he listened live on the telephone became, the "norm". My sensible head tells me this is a little warped, even fucked up, to a degree, but it was thrilling and taboo and bottom line, I was having a relationship, of sorts, with a man - once again, so I refused to view myself as the sexual deviate I was manifesting through all of these shenanigans. All of this had been terribly irresistible, until I met Thierry. Suddenly the lustre of what Mark and I had created together was dulling and the reality that we would never meet in person (did I mention that he's not only in a long term relationship with a woman, but he's also been living with her for about a year?) was starting to sink in. Compounding our demise was the plateau that we were gradually reaching, at least in my eyes. I mean seriously, how much online sex can two people have before it turns into the same ole, redundant nonsense? But, I will admit that it did feel good to know that he was looking for me (did he actually miss me?) and I was still somewhat infatuated with him, deluded fantasies and all. This was of no consequence, I decided. I liked Thierry and there was that microscopic chance that something viable could transpire between the two of us, so I politely responded to Mark but gently closed the door to communication, at least for the day, and put most of my online dating eggs in Thierry's basket, for the time being. You know - I've done this before, though. Put one guy on the back burner because suddenly someone appears outta nowhere, and I do find it impossible to refuse an invitation to potentially mine serendipity from the otherwise endless, dank cave that is "online dating". To carry on that way is greedy and rude and I've rammed this observation down more than one guy's throat about their behavior towards me, on occasion. Yet hypocritically, I tend to glibly shrug off the fact that I am entirely capable of subscribing to the same shitty m.o., from time to time.

Fortunately, before I had time to second-guess my decision, sweet, tiny and adorable Thierry was pulling his beautiful, silver Ducati into my driveway then lifting his helmet off of his freckled face, his green eyes locking securely onto mine and I became instantly dumbstruck by a ripcurrent of arousal sent roaring through my body by nothing more than a pure unadulterated, innocent hug.

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