Thursday, December 8, 2016

Apply This Rule to Sugar Dating

I consider myself pretty good at recognizing a quality potential SB, but too often I've settled for less than what I wanted because nothing else better came along.

Today I read Fuck Yes or No, a great article by Mark Manson, a self-styled "life enthusiast" and thinker.  He makes a convincing case for applying the rule of "Fuck Yes or No" when looking for people in your life. The concept is simple: why would you want to spend time with anyone who wasn't totally excited to be with you, and why would anyone spend time with you if you're not totally excited to be with him/her? If you encounter someone who is interested in you, and you're not thinking "Fuck yes I want to be with that person!" then move on. Conversely, if that person isn't acting like "Fuck yes, I want to be with" you, then move on.

In the Sugar world, things aren't that complicated.  You see a profile of someone you like, you send a message, and hope for a return message.  If you don't get a message for a few days, that person isn't feeling "Fuck yes" for you, so it's a No and you move to the next one. If, however, you get an enthusiastic message and a request to meet, then that's a green light. But don't just agree to meet. Assess your own feelings first; are you feeling that enthusiasm, that "Fuck yes!" excitement? If so, proceed!  If not, write back and say, "Thanks, but I've already met someone."

I think it's important to keep checking in on yourself and your SB or SD to make sure that you're both still feeling "Fuck yes!" There is one complication: the money.  As I've written before on another blog, this shit doesn't work without the money. But once the money greases the wheels, you still need to apply the rule of "Fuck Yes or No" when determining whether or not to remain in the arrangement.

Of the significant arrangements I've had over the past eight-plus years -- CC, C/Hayden, Jade, Leah, Audrey, Staci, Aussie, and Mel -- I can say that there was only one for whom I did not feel "Fuck yes!" and that was CC, my first.  I felt total enthusiasm for the others -- although I held back with C/Hayden because I didn't think she was my type, physically.  Once we slept together, though, I was all in with her for three years.  Mel did kind of drop into my lap, but after that first date I was hooked on her (still am, miss her a lot).

I think the reason why, out of the 52 women I've had sex with since becoming a Sugar Daddy, I've only had significant stretches with eight of them, is because I've settled for less than a "Fuck Yes" when deciding whether or not to pursue them, or have been OK with their being less than "Fuck Yes" with me. Two who immediately come to mind are Mouse and Fleur. When I had lunch with Mouse in Spring 2015, I was less than enthusiastic and so was she. But we still fucked because she wanted her allowance and I wanted to get laid. It was a miserable time.  With Fleur, I immediately knew she wasn't right for me but I went ahead with it anyway, with awful results.

After reading this article, I'm more determined than ever to do this right.

When I emerge from the doghouse in which I currently reside (noting that my actual dog lives in utter bliss right alongside my DW), my dating rules for Sugar will change.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

A Missed Porn Star Opportunity

I fucked a porn star, who I called Kyra, a little less than six years ago.  Read about my encounter with her here.  I thoroughly enjoyed the one time I was with her, and I even thought about seeing her again once I'd discovered that she had become an escort. But that never happened.

Also, in the past few months, while out searching for threesome partners for Mel and me, I found Mo on the Sugar Daddy website. Unlike Kyra, Mo is a very well-known porn star, and used her porn star name as her profile name. She had asked for more allowance than I usually agree to, but I figured that the sex would be phenomenal and worth the additional investment. Watching her work, it's clear that she is very talented. The girl did pretty much anything under the sun, and I thought it might be a great addition to Mel and me.  Sadly, my DW found out about my activities before I could make any headway in that area. I sent Mo a text a week or so ago letting her know and she said a quick "I'm so sorry" before disappearing.  (A quick update: I'm still in the house, and in the bed, still making progress on her list of things I need to do to earn her trust -- a list that will grow over the next several months.)

Now, this morning, I was watching porn while the rest of the family was out doing stuff.  Please don't judge me: now that I won't be getting laid for quite some time, porn has become my best friend. If my cock doesn't fall off first, I'll be enjoying porn for at least a little while. I came across a scene that piqued my interest and started watching. Who do I see on the screen but Alena, a potential I'd met for lunch earlier this year, but who I ultimately rejected, when I was just starting out with Aussie. I recognized both her cute face, her crooked teeth, and the tattoos on both her left arm and her neck. Needless to say, I got off hard watching her perform.  A quick search later revealed that Alena has quite a body of work, with some very hardcore, very rough sex.  Being spat on, choked, throat-fucked, and some serious anal pounding. I'm sort of glad I didn't see any of that before, but part of me wishes she'd let me know who she really was and tried to hook up.

Just something I thought I'd share with y'all.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Update on a Retired Sugar Daddy

I'm still married, still in the house, and DW and I are still talking. Ten days ago, my run of eight-plus years as a Sugar Daddy came to an abrupt end when DW unexpectedly opened my mail and saw hotel charges on a credit card bill. The conflict that has ensued has consumed nearly all my energy; we have still been able to work, still earn a living and pay the bills, still able to spend time with family and friends.  For the first week, however, DW's fangs and claws would come out at night, after the kids were asleep, and she'd wake me up to talk. "If I'm up, you need to be up," she said.

The questions kept coming and coming: "Were you wearing your wedding ring when you were with her?" ("I wore it when we first met, but I would take it off when we were together.") "Where is your condom supply?" ("She kept them for me.") "How much time did you spend each day talking to her or texting her?" That last question prompted her to demand that I add up all the time I believe I'd spent on my time with Mel, and devote that much time to her and the kids, uninterrupted and without my phone. "No problem," I replied.

She said she still cries every day, but not just about what I did. She cries because she says she feels like she failed as a wife because she couldn't give me the sex I wanted or needed. I told her I understood how she felt, because at times I felt I failed as a husband because I wasn't earning enough to support the family such that she wouldn't have to work (she had more in common with some Sugar Babies than she even knew). She wants to talk to her friends, and I encourage her to do that, but she resists, saying, "They'll hate you and I don't want that." I told her that they could hate me if they chose, but I believed that if we worked things out they'd come back around.

On the night before Thanksgiving, before leaving to pick up my kid from athletic practice, DW and I stood in the kitchen going through these feelings and demands and actions again. I have resigned myself to the likelihood that DW will spin this around and around in her head for some time to come ("I keep envisioning things that you've done with her"), and so I knew I just had to stand there and take it in, and offer my opinions if she asks me for them.

At one point, however, I sensed an opportunity to bring to her something that had been on my mind for years. "Sweetie, we're going to get through this, and I'm going to regain your trust; of that I'm certain. We'll have a loving, peaceful, and close family for years and years. But even after that, there will still be an 800-pound gorilla in the room that we need to address. And I'm not sure you're ready to hear it."

"What's that?" she asked.

I took a slow breath in and out. "The fact that we're sexually incompatible." She stopped looking at me and looked at the floor, which meant for me that I'd hit on something that had been on her mind as well. I continued: "We haven't been compatible in bed for years. All the things about sex that you love -- the closeness, the touching, the kissing, the emotional bonding -- I love all that too, but it's not enough for me, at least not now while my body still works. And all the things I love about sex -- which, to tell you the truth, is pretty much anything a man and woman can do together -- is too much for you.  You can come around and find your desire again, but I'm not going to be satisfied anymore with what we had been doing before it all got shut down."  She nodded slowly and looked back up at me.

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"First we get through this. There is time to discuss everything else later.  But we're going to have to resolve the issue at some point if we're going to survive."

"Are you saying that you'll want a divorce if we can't resolve it?"

"No," I said, "because I don't think failure is an option for me. We have to resolve it. But this is going to be really hard. We're going to have to redefine what it means to be married to each other."

I let that hang there as I kissed her and held her before I left the house.  We haven't revisited that discussion, but it's never going to go away now. Despite the fact that I was scared, and sad for her having to deal with her pain and anger, I was exhilarated that, finally, I'd been able to tell DW exactly what had been on my mind for years. I was someday going to have the open marriage I've wanted for so long. I certainly hope that the marriage lasts forever, but regardless, it will be a marriage that will honor my terms, how I define myself as a man.

Last week's Thanksgiving festivities were particularly stressful on her. Not only were we all observing the holiday for the first time without her father, but she said she'd have to put on a brave face less than a week after her life came tumbling down on her.  Her mother, her sibling, her relatives, my relatives, our closest friends -- all would be there and know nothing of what had happened. Further, one of my closest friends, who had nowhere to go this year, was there, and he knew. DW told me later that she couldn't look him in the eye without feeling shame. I do my best to reassure her that no one would judge her harshly in any way, I mostly just say "I understand" and "I'm sorry."

The list of demands has been slowly growing.  Already I've closed the credit card and paid off the balance.  Already I've ended things with Mel.  Already I've returned the money I spent on hotels and ancillary things to the family. Already I've gotten tested (all results so far have been negative, as expected). Already I've drained my personal bank account.  Already I've turned over all relevant online passwords.  Still to do: write the checks to the kids' college funds for the money I spent, close my checking account, go to a ritual bath and do a spiritual cleanse before we can be intimate again, add up the time spent on activity with Mel.  There are a few more things that are too personal to list here.

I've started seeing a therapist (of my own volition since DW refuses to go to counseling). This mystifies her because she doesn't know why I'm doing it.  Last night I explained, after my first session, that I wanted to sort out feelings for myself and get some validation for my own feelings about it from someone who can offer perspective in a way that she couldn't. I offered again to go to counseling with her or to pay for individual therapy for her, but she has so far refused.  I'm not giving up there.  I don't foresee my therapy going longer than three or four sessions, but the money I'm spending will be added to the total I've already paid back.

What she also heard me say was that I was firmly committed to the marriage.  That got a weary chuckle. "I know how that sounds right now," I said, "but I'm not sure it helps for you to laugh it off." The truth is, I said, that I had grounds to leave the marriage years ago. There have been lots of men who have walked over less.  My friend Luke stuck it out, I said, only to have his wife (DW's closest friend) cheat on him. I even could have refused to end things with this girl, and yet I did it without hesitation because she doesn't really mean anything to me. "It's you I want. It's you I've always wanted. You're wary of what I've said, and that's fine.  Look at some of the other things I've done. Those should count for something."  She can be mad all she wants, she can withhold trust if that works for her, but she needs the facts, and I'm giving them to her.

Reflecting back on the last week, I have to say that I'm feeling more and more confident each day that we'll survive this. Of key importance, beyond all the tasky stuff I have to do, will be my support for her emotional health. I will continue to suggest that she sees a therapist or that we go to counseling together.  I have already proposed, and she has accepted, that we will go on a date every week.  It's important that she find those parts of me she fell in love with -- they've always been there, after all. More than all of this, however, will be my continuing to listen to her and to honor her.  I'm a problem solver, and I want more than anything to solve this problem. But I can't. Only time will heal this wound, so I stick to what I can control: my territory, maintained impeccably; my listening without judgment; my caring; my cooperation without compromising who I am; my making sure she knows my feelings, without emotion; and my continued efforts to think up new ways to make her happy.

I'll continue to post more as time permits and/or as things develop.  Sorry there aren't going to be any hot sex stories for awhile.

Monday, November 21, 2016

The Jig Is Up

She never opens my mail.  Never.

The credit card bill lay on the table, a corner of the statement poking out from the top of the torn envelope. DW had opened it before I had gotten it. Oh fuck.

"Why did you open my mail?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said.  "Why are there hotel charges on your credit card bill?"

My face felt hot. I've finally been caught. I walked past her, trying to busy myself with stuff to do with the kids.  It was a busy day. But not too busy, apparently.

She followed me into my office. "Is there something you want to confess to me?" she asked quietly, her lovely, bright eyes widening and beginning to moisten.

I looked at her, knowing I could no longer hide. How much should I reveal? If I tell her everything, I'll be packing my bags in the next hour. Just then one of our kids walked by, giving me an out. "Can we not talk about this now?" I rasped out through my dry throat. "We will talk later," I added, "I promise." From DW, I heard the first of what so far has seemed like a hundred utterances of "Pfft."

We had a social event scheduled for later that day with the kids, among family friends we've known for years, some in our respective inner circles.  My friend Luke would be there, as would his ex-wife, who has become one of DW's closes confidantes. Luke divorced her because she'd cheated on him. Would DW do the same now?

As we washed up and dressed before the event, we found ourselves alone and in the bathroom.  I'd closed our bedroom door, which is a signal to the kids not to enter without knocking. I knew this was where I'd bear the full brunt of DW's anger.

Without revealing the entire conversation, I confessed to sleeping with Mel six times, nothing more. DW wanted to know things about this girl, and I revealed as much as I could tell her. No, I said, there were no feelings.  I liked her and she liked me, but that's as far as it went. "There was no relationship. They were only physical encounters. It was No Strings Attached," I said. "Pfft," came her response.

"You've most likely lost your wife and your children today," she said, "How do you like those strings? Was it worth it?"

I had no responses for much of what she said except, "I deserve that." I should be out of the house, surfing couches or staying in a hotel until she was no longer furious, or at best sleeping on the couch, but the kids would not understand.  She could not tell her family, even though she wanted to cancel Thanksgiving at our house.  I sat there and took it all, lamely saying, "I understand."  If I said anything that came from my heart, she responded with another "Pfft."  Mostly, however, I played extremely gentle defense while I admitted to everything. She did give me the opening, after all. I reminded her of her words nearly nine years ago, which, after she lamely tried to tell me was a joke, she remembered and copped to.  Still she said, "Should have thought of that before you decided to break your marriage vow six times."  I had no response to that, but I said, "This is something I've been wanting to talk to you about for years. I've been afraid to because I've found you unapproachable when sex comes up." Of course, there were other ways for me to deal with my feelings of abandonment and physical alienation. I could have swallowed hard and insisted we discuss it. I could have insisted that we continue counseling when she decided to leave just as we were discussing our sexual issues. I could have owned my feelings about it and made sure she understood them while I laid out the facts of her behavior over the past eight years, and demanded a solution that we could both live with. But I was unsure of how she'd take any of it. It was clear that DW was either afraid, or simply unwilling, to talk about sex.  Even with her now suggesting that she could have been open to discussing solutions, I doubted that the outcome would have been any different.

Underneath the anger she was venting at me, DW felt betrayed and told me she felt she could no longer trust me. "I'm in the same place," I said, adding, "but we've got so many years as a family, as part of this community, and as a couple. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."  "Pfft," she said. It seemed like she was in no place to hear that.  "But I don't want to end our marriage," she said, agreeing with me that the long-term investment we've made was too important to discard.  I felt some relief, though the anger kept coming at me like a wind-blown rainstorm.

"I want you to end it with this girl, right now," she said.

"Of course. No problem."

"I want to see the text you send her before you send it.  I want to see all of your credit card bills for the last three months. I want a full accounting of every dollar you've spent on this girl, and you will give that money to the kids for their college funds.  I want passwords to all of your bills.  And you will get tested right away. Until you do I see you as unclean."

These were the easy things. The credit card bills had some restaurant charges which I could explain, some parking charges from the hotels, but nothing more. I did not confess to the financial part of the arrangement, so for now at least my bank account, with its biweekly cash withdrawals, was safe for me to close.

"No problem," I said.

We survived the social event, even managing to dance together once. But I spent much of the night huddled with some men, drinking whiskey, talking politics and our kids, anything to avoid the hard stares, and the pain those stares conveyed to me.

Later that night, while alone in the bathroom I deleted the entire text histories I had with every woman I'd kept -- and there were more than a few.  I deleted pictures on my phone of Staci and I having sex.  I deleted my entire private email inbox.  And I deleted all the contacts I'd saved over the years and months, except for Mel.  After washing up I managed to climb into bed with DW, where we talked some more. I wrote the goodbye text for Mel at midnight: "Hi there, sorry for the late note. I must immediately end our brief time together. Please do not respond, as I will not answer you. Take care." I showed it to DW as she had requested, and asked if she wanted me to change anything. She wanted me to remove "brief."  "Three months is not brief to me.  One time is brief.  Take it out."  she also wanted me to tell Mel what an awful person she was for sleeping with a married man, but I convinced DW that we were better off not dragging Mel into our drama. I pressed send.

We were both exhausted.  We finally collapsed at around 1:30 a.m., and I maybe slept for an hour, but was up the rest of the night till dawn, unable to find a comfortable spot.

The next morning we had to attend, of all things, a religious retreat with one of the kids.  There would be more friends and community members there.  After getting up early to gas up the car and buy some food for our outing, I returned home and went into the office to attend to financial matters, unrelated to our impending divorce.  I heard DW sniffing and quietly sobbing in the kitchen while she packed up our lunches. I finished what I was working on -- I truly wanted to leave it be, but it needed to be done -- and then walked into the kitchen, where she met my eyes with tears rolling down her cheeks.  Her beautiful face, tear-soaked and crestfallen. My heart was breaking too.

She walked into our bedroom with me behind her, closing the door so that our still-sleeping children would not disturb us.  She climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up over her face, releasing the sobs that she'd been holding back.  I sat on the bed next to her and risked a kiss to her exposed forehead before bursting into tears myself.  In those ten or fifteen minutes, through sobbing and running noses, we talked, and connected in a way that we hadn't for years. There was no moment of major clarity for either of us, but she listened, and I listened. She would warn me not to put any of this on her.

"I take full responsibility for what I've done," I said.  "I did a stupid thing."

"Six stupid things."

"One stupid thing, six times," I insisted. I said, "I'm being very careful with my words here, on purpose. I don't blame you at all for what I did, but where we are now in this marriage didn't happen because of this thing I did. This is a symptom of the lack of trust between us. I know you don't trust me now, but believe me when I tell you that I have struggled with trust for years."  Reminding her again of the things she has said to me over the years, I drew a sketch of my mindset, which created the stories that all seemed true to me: particularly, that she was not open to talking about sex in any way. She could not deny it, and quietly admitted it. We reassured each other, again, that neither of us wanted to end the marriage, and that we truly loved each other deeply.

Later, at the retreat, we were engaged in an exercise that had us answering questions with people were getting to know.  I should not have been in the same group as DW because I found myself sitting across from her when the question was asked, "If you could be any kind of animal you wanted, what would you be and why?" I struggled with that answer before she motioned me close and whispered in my ear, "I know what animal you are.  A cheetah."

I sat back, simultaneously amazed that she would say something like that, and crushed that she did. She saw in my face that she'd scored a massive direct hit, and she reached out her hand to apologize, tears welling up in her eyes. I could not bring myself to accept, so I just kept looking at her. Finally I leaned in and said, "I deserved that, but that fucking hurt a lot."  "It was said in anger and it just came out, I'm so sorry," she replied.  Still I felt no desire to absolve her guilt.  After about 10 minutes talking to other people, we were led outside to go on a hike.  She caught up to me, practically bawling, and said, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me." Without a word, I gave her my arm and she took it.  She was still crying, and while my heart felt the same pain, I kept myself calm. "You gotta pull it together, babe," I said, "[the kid] will see you and wonder what's up."

After the hike we sat as a group and said some prayers and sang some songs before the clergy asked each family to find a secluded spot and deliver some blessings to each other.  I pulled my kid very close and said, "I bless you with a long, happy, and healthy life, with success, and family and friends who all love you and are loved by you." I kissed my kid about a hundred times, eliciting giggles and "Daaaad!" DW echoed my words, and started crying again, which got my kid to ask what was up. "I'm just having an emotional day, sweetie," she said, "some days are just like that."

We then had a quiet lunch together, talking politics and the exercises we were engaged in with another couple of parents.  The rest of the afternoon was filled with wonderful lessons, and by the end I was feeling somewhat like we were returning to being a normal family.

I was wrong.

This morning, after I'd stayed up late and printed out and itemized the credit card expenses as she had requested, DW sat beside me on the bed at about 6:15, and said, "I need you to get up." "I'm not driving carpool today," I replied.  "No," she said, "I want you to get up, take your shower, get dressed, and go to work.  I can't have you in the house today." Her anger comes at me in waves.  I stood my ground a bit and said that leaving early would trigger the kids into thinking that something was really wrong. "They've already seen a lot of closed doors," I said, adding, "they sense something's up already.  Have you noticed their behavior? They haven't been at each other's throats at all. They're scared shitless.  It's better that our routines look normal."  She relented, and then we discussed the credit card charges.  She asked about a couple of things but seemed settled that she had a complete accounting.

As I left for work, I kissed each of the kids, told them to mind their mom, and went over the DW.  I told her again that I loved her and put my arms around her, kissing her cheek.  "Go make money for your family," she said.  Following me to the front door, she said, "Hey." I turned around and saw her point to her lips and motioned for me to kiss her. The tears came again for both of us; luckily the kids were too wrapped in their electronics to notice.  Maybe this was part of the "normal" routine that we had agreed on, but I was nevertheless grateful that I got to kiss my beautiful wife for the first time in two days.  She gave me the sign for I love you as I backed out of the driveway.

Today I've gotten fully tested -- HIV negative, with all the others in about a week -- and will close my credit cards after paying them off.  I get paid in four days, so I'll close the checking account after that.

I've maintained great secrecy for the past eight years.  Leaving this credit card bill around, and not going electronic with the billing, was so fucking stupid.  But, as a friend told me this morning, it was my way of saying that I wanted to get caught.  If you've read this blog from the beginning, I have never shied away from both the desire to be out in the open with my activity and my willingness to accept responsibility and consequences if I got caught.  I've been wanting a confrontation with DW for years; to have, at long last, that mature and unflinchingly honest discussion about our sexual incompatibility issues and what to do about them. I don't know if DW would ever accept arrangement-style relationships, but I may have to educate her about that stuff in the future.

For now, my job is to complete, with full cooperation, the tasks she puts before me; to let her know what I'm feeling; to listen; to keep my stuff clean; to care deeply about her; and to do whatever original things I can think of to make her happy.  I'll need to somehow absorb her anger and try to channel it into something more positive. And I'll need to urge her, however possible, to join me again in counseling, which she is thus far refusing.

Despite having tons of work to do, and sales calls to make, I have barely held it together today.  A few of my closest friends got the word about what happened via a group text about 7 a.m. today, and my phone has been ringing off the hook since.  I'm grateful for the chance to talk it out.  They'll be my lifeline for the next few months as this gets sorted out.

It goes without saying that my days secretive of extra-marital sex are over.  If I ever again have sex with a woman other than my DW -- and today that looks doubtful -- it'll be out in the open.  I had a very good eight-year run.  I would have liked to exit this journey on my terms, but maybe I did and just don't see it right now.

I don't know when, or even if, I'll write another post to this blog.  I'm sure you'll all want to know the resolution of this matter, so I'll probably be back someday.

Friday, November 18, 2016

Short Update on Who's In and Who's Out

Who's In

Mo, the young porn star who is trying out sugar, had until this week been working in Europe. I follow her on Twitter, and she had been posting pics and short video clips of her work. The producers there kept her quite busy and I have to say she is a fucking pro at what she does because she looked like she loved every second of the brutal sex she was having. Maybe she's a total freak and she did enjoy it!

Anyway, she arrived back home yesterday, and this morning she texted me to re-connect. I was so flattered! I'd basically walked away from the situation, since she required more financial assistance than anyone else and since I was pretty happy already with Mel (still am!). But as I've written many times before, when a girl reaches out to me on her own I find that really attractive and it makes me want to see her more.  She actually wanted to see me today, but I was busy.  So we're going to re-connect again after Thanksgiving and see what's up.

Chic keeps trying. We have not been able to make time to be together, and I wonder if it'll ever happen. I could take it or leave it with her, but her body is so tight that I truly don't think I'd ever turn her down.

Harmony is still hanging in there, but I'm not rushing.

Rose and CJ and I will have a threesome sometime next month.

Of course, Mel is my #1.

Who's Out

Jewel -- during a conversation the other day during which we were trying to make plans to get together, I started flirting with her and suggesting that she probably got plenty of dick and didn't really need me.  "I rarely have sex," she wrote, adding, "boys my age suck in bed." She said she liked lots of different kinds of guys, but preferred older men and was interviewing a few. "Who's the best candidate?" I asked.  "Trump," she answered, jokingly. I knew she was joking, but even the suggestion, the implication, that she might have voted for that asshole left me cold. "Tell me you're kidding, babe," I wrote.  "LOL, totally kidding."  "Good," I replied, "I just can't bring myself to be with anyone who voted for him. Total deal breaker."  I then suggested a place and time to meet for lunch, but she never responded. I guess she did vote for him. 

I'm thinking of updating my sugar daddy profile to be specific that I am not interested in anyone who voted for Trump. Providing sugar for someone like that actually turns my stomach.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

The Year-End Slowdown

Whether it's the fact that the sun sets at 5 pm out here on the left coast, or that the holidays tend to interfere with scheduling, my sugar life tends to slow down around this time of year.  In 2012 I was still reeling from the end of my time with C/Hayden, in 2013 I was dealing with an increasingly frustrating relationship with Jade, in 2014 I was going full tilt with Audrey but not blogging all that much, and last year I was dealing with one failed start after another.

This year things aren't all that different.  I'm busy at work, though making slightly less than I'd like. I've got a great thing going with Mel, but have sought to detour with a number of different girls.  The fiasco with the escort MJ seems really to have left me feeling disheartened.

At this point, however, I've decided to let the rest of them go.  I'd made a lunch date with Shelly last week after breaking two previous dates, only to have to cancel again because I'd stupidly scheduled the date on a national holiday when my company was closed and the kids out of school -- family time!  Her response was to demand that any future date include a full allowance up front, which I declined without a second thought. I also told Chloe that I was taking the rest of this year off (which isn't a total lie, since I will be off in December) and didn't want to hold her up. Rose and CJ are on the back-burner, and I think I might meet them before the end of this year, but I'm not in a hurry. Harmony and I were supposed to meet for sex today, but my schedule got in the way.  I am less than thrilled about playing with her anyway.  Jewel and I lost contact with each other.  Chic and I really want to fuck each other, but she can't free up her schedule to save her life, so I'm like meh.

That leaves me with sweet, sexy Mel, and I'm actually happy with her.  We are meeting early next week, and then once more before I go on December sabbatical.  I told her I might try to sneak in once more before Christmas, but not to count on it.  She'll get some seriously nice gifts from me to tide her over until January too.

Not much else to report.  There'll be another post after my next date with Mel.  It will be my seventh time with her.  Interestingly enough, I haven't been with a woman this many times since Audrey, nearly two years ago.  Staci and I only had five dates, Sam only five, Aussie only six. A sign of stabilizing?  I hope so.

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Sugar Date with Mel #6: More Rim Jobs, Election Talk, and the Need for Different Lube

Mel and I had our sixth intimate date yesterday.  As usual, in our historic hotel (which now charges for parking when it never did before, so I'm considering moving somewhere else), as Standard Time ended our liaison in the dark.

Arriving in a short black casual dress with black ankle boots and curly hair that she didn't bother to straighten, I had Mel naked in record time. We missed each other, and definitely showed it in the way we kissed and held each other the entire time we were together.

The standout experience for me was in how adept Mel was in rimming.  I've always been into ass play, as my experiences with Space Cadet and Lola will attest.  Mel hasn't yet fingered me, but her talents with her tongue are unbelievable. It felt so good; I had my legs in the air, offering her as much access as I've ever given anyone.  I told her I liked to be fingered but she demurred, showing me her long nails.  I didn't mind really, but I let her promise me that she would do it next time. I guarantee you it will send me into orbit when she does.

I offered to return the favor, but she apparently isn't as into it as I am, so I'll keep trying to convince her.  Being inside her feels simultaneously familiar and unique, because each time we fuck we do something to change things up.  This time, when she was riding me, she rocked her hips back and forth, causing a great deal of rubbing on her clit.  I helped her along by holding her butt in both hands.  I think the friction  was a little much for her because we had to stop midway through as her pussy was getting sore.  She wondered if perhaps the meds she was temporarily taking was affecting how wet she was getting.  I didn't really need to spend time thinking about that, but I supposed it was possible.  I got out my lube, Astroglide, which has has worked perfectly with nearly everyone with whom I've used it.  She took a little and rubbed it on her pussy and I entered her from behind, but that lasted about two seconds before she said, "Ow, this stings a lot!"  She had to wash the lube off in the bathroom to relieve the discomfort.  I resolved then and there to buy some coconut oil to use next time we need it.

Once Mel came back, she had a plan: "I'm gonna suck you some more and get a lot of spit on you, then we'll try again." Who was I to argue, right?  That worked really well.  I resumed fucking her from behind, and it took all of two minutes before I was ready to cum. I pulled out and unloaded all over her butt and back and hair.  It went everywhere!

Our post-coital conversation revolved around the presidential election. Both of us on the same page, thankfully. Neither of us could imagine what our country would be like under the fascist dictatorship that Trump looked all too willing to create.  We also talked about seeing Rose again, but I'm holding off with that until I get to fuck Rose and CJ together, which will be later this month.  Finally, we planned our next two dates and agreed that we'd be apart for all of December until after New Years Day.

By 5:15 the sun had gone down, and Mel dressed and said goodbye as I stepped into the shower.  I'm so glad she's in my life.  Already can't wait to see her again.