Monday, July 25, 2016

Thoughts on Aussie's Departure

This morning I thought about Aussie.  Our last conversation had me urging her to return to Australia:
Aussie: Talked to landlord... have to pay out $1,800 fee, then late rent, and whatever before someone else takes the place ($2,000) per month...I can't do it.
Me: Oh, man, I thought this was a month-to-month.  With 30 days notice you're out.
A: After contract which was to March.
M: Oh, no, you signed a lease.
A: Of course, I had to. Remember the fraud place I had for one day? They made me sign a lease [here] because of that.
M: What if you just left? They can't follow you to Australia
A: Thought of that...But I couldn't come back ever with law stuff.
M: Not true.  You can make good on it later.  You're not in prison, babe.
A: They drill me (and every Non-American) when you come just for a visit -- been there.
M: You're saying ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) would refuse you entry because of unpaid rent?
A: If they [the landlord] does a lawsuit, then everything comes up.
M: Not if you settle. You can't stick around watching the bill go up and up.  Leave, contact them from home, settle on an amount, then clear it up.  No lawsuit.
A: True.  I have to get rid of all my shit.
M: Shouldn't be hard, talk to your neighbors.
A: True again, yes.  Stop being right all the time. I'm just in panic mode.
M: With age comes wisdom.  Panic is the worst.  Breathe, darling.
A: I know, I'm trying.  It's just my whole life, you know?
M: Yes, but the right thing to do is right there under your nose.
A: Leave
M: Yes, and don't think you've failed either.
I recalled our last time together, and how distracted she was, how wooden, how mechanical it felt to fuck her.  Like she knew that she needed the money so badly she had to have sex with me.  There was no tenderness, no laughing.  I couldn't wait for it to be over.   You'll recall how I noted that she appeared to have lost weight.  This morning it occurred to me that she may have been hungry and not had the money to eat, or just the stress of the situation was melting pounds from her already thin body.  Those thoughts had me feeling unbearably sad for her.  But I couldn't help her to the extent she needed.  She made a really bad choice, then ignored my counsel, both at the outset when I warned her of my concern, and later when I found out that she hadn't been paid in over a month (she told me she didn't want to talk about it).

Besides, I'm not here to rescue anyone that far down.  I thought about contributing to her plane ticket home, and may just do that, but only if she asks me.


Wednesday, July 20, 2016

They Said I Was Insane...

Chic came over to my house last night, to fuck me and collect a little more of her allowance.  I asked for this date because I knew she needed the dough and I wanted to help her.

With DW and one of our kids, and the dog, at her mom's house, and the other kid spending the night at a friend's house, I knew I'd be safe to have Chic come over. I got home from my night out just before 11 pm.  She texted me she'd be there just after 11.  I had time to tidy up, set the proper mood, and freshen up before she arrived.  She sent me a text at 11:05 asking if I was home, then asking me which house was mine.

I opened the front door, only to come face to face with a skunk.  Yes, a skunk.  The little guy, probably an adolescent, was walking up my driveway, tail raised, when he spotted me about twenty feet away.  I said, "Get outta here!" and the stinker turned and ran, across the street and into the bushes.

Chic came up the driveway about a minute later.  "Did you see the little animal on my driveway?" I said.  "You mean the skunk?" she said.  "We used to get those a lot back home."

Chic wore a black T-shirt and very short white shorts.  Cute as fuck.

I let her in and brought her to the back room so we could be comfortable.  Condoms and lube were placed on the table next to the couch, with a yellow envelope containing her loot and a really bad birthday card.

We were naked almost immediately and kissing.  She kept rubbing against my cock, and I wanted just to put it inside her.  "Remember," she said between kisses, "we use condoms until I say otherwise." I slipped one on and lubed up. Starting in missionary, ending in cowgirl, I didn't climax.  I had stupidly jacked off about five hours earlier.  I figured that would be enough recovery time.  I stayed hard, but there was no way I was going to get there.  Chic, on the other hand, reached climax in just about 10 minutes.

I took off the condom and convinced her to let me put some porn on the TV.  While watching, we touched each other. Damn, she was wet!  Once I got really turned on, she just concentrated on me, and I came in just a few minutes.

After a little talking about her work prospects, I brought up the conversation we'd had about having a phone call.  She reiterated that it was too intimate an act for her and that she was worried we'd get too close.  I told her that more intimate relationships worked for me, and then described what phone calls with me would look like.  She came around, and agreed to have a call once a week or so.

After she'd been there an hour, we were both tired, and she got dressed to leave. After getting her to take the lube and a small trash bag with the "evidence" of our date with her, I walked her to the door and kissed her goodbye.  My quiet street, my quiet neighborhood, knows nothing.

Some friends said I was fucking crazy to invite a Sugar Baby to my house.  The thing is, I'd probably have agreed if this was something I'd planned to do regularly.  But in all the time I've been married and living in that house, I can count on less than one hand how many nights I've spent there alone.  It is so extremely rare that I don't ever foresee that happening again.  But she'll have your address! they countered. But Chic strikes me pretty fucking normal: a farm girl from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, the whitest and most conservative part of America.  She'll never bother me at home.  I also cover my tracks really well, so I feel very safe.

Chic texted me about 20 minutes later to let me know she'd arrived home safely.  "Thank you for checking in with me," I said, adding, "You had to have been reading my mind that I was concerned about your driving so late at night.  You're pretty awesome, babe."

"You're amazing AND [you] feel amazing!" she replied.

Our next date is next week, in a hotel.  After that, we'll probably have an overnight date as I take a short trip out of town.  In the meantime, I'm going to get tested again, as I'm due after being with Aussie. (Note, on that front, there is no development.  I suggested a lunch with her for this week, but never followed up.  I feel somewhat guilty given my desire to send her home with a little something, but it just makes me sad when I think about what could have been with her.  I do, at least, owe her a goodbye note or something.  We'll see.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Sugar Baby Booty Call?

Chic and I exchanged some messages yesterday. As it was her day off, I told her that I hoped she was having fun.  "No, just looking for work," she replied.  I knew that a job change was coming, based on what we had discussed last week, but she said that things with her boss (actually the majority owner of the company she partly owns) were getting very uncomfortable now.  I asked if I could help.

"I don't think you can," she replied.

"Maybe a little?  An extra date this week, perhaps?"

She thought that was a great idea.  Well, of course she did.

I wrote that DW and the kids -- and the dog -- would be away for the night.  One kid spending the night at a friend's house, and DW, the other kid, and the dog at her mom's.  "I'm home alone."

"Oh, perfect!"

"It'd be a late night, though," I said.  "I'm not home tonight till 11."

"That will have to work!" she said.

I offered to let her spend the night, but regretted that immediately.  Where would she sleep?  There isn't a bed in the house that doesn't currently belong to someone.  Luckily she rescued me.

"I wouldn't feel comfortable staying so I wouldn't sleep well! Plus I have an a.m. interview so it works out."

So tonight, after my guy's night out, Chic will be coming to my house for a late night date.  I have never had a Sugar Baby visit my house.  There is zero chance of being caught, as DW and the kids will be gone until dinner time tomorrow, so I'm not all that worried about it.  Still, I'm crossing a line, and we'll see how that goes with having a relatively new SB know where I live.  As of now, I think she's a stable girl and I will probably have no problems down the line.

My marital bed will not be used for sex though. That's definitely out.  We'll be using the couch tonight.  May be a little old and worn, but it's nice and comfy.

More tomorrow!

Monday, July 18, 2016

Emotions in the Sugar Bowl -- A Reflection

As last weekend got underway, I grew suspicious that Chic had decided to end our arrangement before it began.  My suspicions were based on my interpretation of comments she'd made in a text conversation we'd had a day or so earlier.

Last Thursday, as I was still feeling aglow from our amazing first date, I sent her a note telling her I'd like to have a phone conversation with her sometime on Friday, as it was her day off.  "A phone call, huh?" she asked in reply.  "Yeah," I wrote, "I prefer talking over texting anyway. Besides I like your sexy voice."

A little while passed, perhaps an hour or so, and I hadn't heard back, so I sent a little follow-up text: "Hey, babe, let me know a good time I can call you tmrw."

"I don't know about that phone call," Chic wrote back a few minutes later, adding, "It just seems like too much bonding to me."

Since these texts didn't come with a wink or a smile or any kind of emoji, I took them at face value; they appeared to suggest that Chic was either backing away from involvement, or truly felt that talking on the phone was too intimate an act for her, or both.  In any event, I wasn't so deeply involved with Chic that news like this, whatever the intent, was going to injure me in any way.  We fucked once, we had a good time together, but if that was the end of things, I could handle it. In fact, I kind of appreciated that she established the boundary. "OK," I wrote back, "thanks for the reality check," and I added a smile.

I had asked her earlier in the day to confirm our next date, but hadn't heard back.  In light of this boundary, and my uncertainty about where she stood now, I asked again, "Should I calendar us for our next date?"

I got no answer, as it was pretty late and past her 10 p.m. bedtime.  Still, not getting an answer fucked with my head and I slept poorly that night.  In the morning, however, she apparently felt the need to clarify things further.  "It's too much because you're married and not available.  I don't want to get attached."

Hmm, I thought, this was a wrinkle I hadn't considered.  Even though she'd told me before our date that she'd found me "the most attractive" man she'd met in the Sugar Bowl. Even though, when I'd called BS on that statement -- "You wouldn't have given me the time of day if we hadn't met the way we met" -- she'd told me, "You're wrong.  I'm very picky."  I'd sort of written off that exchange at first, but in light of this latest text, I had to reexamine things. Maybe she's emotionally open enough to let herself be vulnerable to attachment.

I responded, "I didn't know this was an issue for you, hun.  We should probably have a short conversation about it at our next date.  Are we on?"

I didn't hear from Chic all day.  She was either whizzing through her day off, or she was ghosting me on purpose, because this was the third time I'd asked her to confirm our date without an immediate answer.  I realized that this whole conversation was spinning me out a little bit, so I basically wrote the whole deal off and deleted her texts and pictures, resolving to re-up my membership at the sugar daddy website once I got home from the office.  As I wrote before, it was early enough in this arrangement that I didn't need to waste time getting upset about anything.

At 5:30 that afternoon, I heard from her, "Yes, of course, I'm excited to see you again."  I confirmed that she was on my calendar and that I'd text her after the weekend.

*     *     *     *     *

This whole post is supposed to be a reflection on emotions within the sugar lifestyle.  Chic's note to me late last week reminded me that emotional attachments are always going to be part of this journey (for me, whether they come from me or from my partner).  I'm referring specifically to love.

Love scares the shit out of most people regardless of whether they're in a sugar relationship or a vanilla one. People attach so many meanings to that word.  When someone says, "I love you," what does that mean?  Why is he/she telling me this? What does he/she want from me?  Am I supposed to say it back?  If I do, what does that mean?

Those of you readers who have read this blog remember my journey through loving C/Hayden (now that she's married I should probably change her name again, to Mrs. B), from the first time I told her I loved her, to the second time I told her I loved her, to the time she told me she loved me, to the disagreement we had over saying it to each other, to the time I told her in front of a friend, to the time I told her that I had fallen in love with her.  You'll also recall my back and forth with Jade over the subject.

Since that horrible debacle, however, I haven't come close to that third rail, although I've had strong feelings for Leah, Audrey, Red, and even Aussie. That shows you that even a rational, level-headed, mature man like me struggles with love.

As I explained to Mrs. B the first time, I think it's perfectly acceptable in a sugar relationship to love your partner. I do. If both partners are sufficiently mature and understand the parameters and limits of the sugar relationship, there should be no barrier to any feeling.  It's when the partners do not have that all-important conversation when things get out of hand.  Think about it: when I had that conversation with Mrs. B (then Hayden) my telling her that I loved her did not derail me -- that first breakup happened because I didn't really understand the sugar bowl and over-reacted to the feelings. The second time I told her, however, we went another year, and actually exchanged the sentiment, before we broke up for good. The love we felt for each other was not really the deciding factor that ended things.  It complicated the breakup, that's for sure, but the breakup was inevitable because of her relationship with her then-BF, Mr. B.

I've maintained all along that love is not the problem in sugar relationships.  It's our perceptions of it. See the paragraph above: what does this mean?  For me, when I love someone, I'm able to differentiate between romantic love, platonic love, and everything in between.   When I tell a Sugar Baby, "I love you," it doesn't mean I've envisioned a future with her.  The only future with any Sugar Baby is a break-up at some point. While those can be unpleasant, they don't have to be. That's our choice as participants in the relationship, isn't it?  I've read plenty of accounts of sugar players who have parted on good terms, with plenty of affection between the two.  The problem as I see it, even more basic than we don't know what to do with love, is that we don't understand it.

I'm a believer in what most of us call God. Whether you call it God, Jehovah, Allah, Jesus, The Flying Spaghetti Monster, Chthulu, or whatever, I believe that a power greater than all of us created the Universe. That power continues today, simultaneously orchestrating and harmonizing what has already been created while creating still more and more, infinitely and beyond any concept we humans have of space and time.  I see proof of the existence of this power every time I look at my children, when I consider the trillions and trillions of biological and chemical reactions that had to happen in the right order for a human being to come into the world from the merging of an egg cell with a single (among billions) sperm cell. I see proof when I look up at the stars and realize that more than what we can fully comprehend converted a singularity into the eternal immensity of the still-expanding Universe.

Now that my spiritual bonafides are established, let me say this: A power such as the one which created and creates all of material (and non-material) reality must also have created Love.  To orchestrate and harmonize all of that reality, which over time has evolved to become better and better, it requires Love.  In fact, Love is not from God, but of God.  I capitalize the word Love because it's the Universal love, and from that, all other expressions of love are born.  That includes romantic, platonic, and all other forms of love between human beings on this planet.  The best part of this love is the fact that the supply of it is inexhaustible.  There is no end to it.  And when we're in a place in our life when we feel connected to something Universal, we feel that Love everywhere: in the waves crashing on the seashore, in the songs of birds that signal a new day's beginning. and in the smile we get from a stranger who appreciates it when we are kind to them.

Personally, I love everyone: my DW, my kids, my relatives, my co-workers, my friends, the asshole who lives next door to me, and yes, every single one of the sugar babies I've met.  I try my best to express that Love in the right way, but I'm imperfect and sometimes I completely fuck it up.  But the feelings are still there. When I told Mrs. B and Jade that I loved them, it was from this place, not the place of, I want you to be my life partner.  But because they did not grasp the concept of unlimited love, they believe that love is something you have to parcel out only to people who have earned it, who deserve it.  We'll my response it, by virtue of our having been born into this world, we've earned it.  And we deserve it, because we all come from the same origin: from God.  We are compelled to love each other.  This is the basis for the love I feel for my Sugar Babies.  When that love spills over to the point where I can't contain it, I have to let it out.  I do that through sex, through giving, and through caring.  Sometimes I let it out in those charged words, "I love you."  If I'm in the right place, it lands perfectly in my partner's brain and needs no qualification or clarification.

So Chic, in rejecting the idea of a phone call with me for concern over attachment, appears to be out of sync with the Universal Love.  Perhaps over time, if she's strong enough -- and I'm not neurotic enough -- we can find it together.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Chic: My 50th Sugar Baby!

Chic exceeded all expectations of what I envisioned our first encounter would be.  When we met several months ago over breakfast, I met a beautiful, ambitious, and kind-hearted woman.  Who showed up yesterday was all that plus sexually incendiary.  She was the perfect fiftieth partner of my Sugar Daddy journey.  What's even cooler is that she is my fiftieth partner, and this is my 500th post! There's something extremely satisfying in that, in an OCD kind of way.

I arrived at the hotel about 20 minutes ahead of time to set up the room, freshen up, and turn on my laptop so I could check in with work if need be.  Fortunately for me, the room they first gave me had a broken door lock, so I got another room.  One with a jacuzzi tub.  You might remember that the last time I was with Sam, the room had a jacuzzi tub that we both thoroughly enjoyed.  In this room, however, the tub's jets didn't work, so all we did was get a warm soak for about 15 minutes.  Not much to talk about this, although it did lead to some really amazing sex.

Chic showed up about 10 minutes late, which I didn't sweat.  I figured that we'd have at least two hours together since I understood that neither of us had anywhere specific to be after our date.  She came into the room wearing a long, black and white sundress and wedge heels.  Her black hair was down, and with her large, dark sunglasses, she looked like a movie star.

She came up to me and threw her arms around my shoulders and we kissed and hugged.  Breaking away momentarily I showed her how the tub worked and got the water started.  It would be at least 30-45 minutes before it filled up, so it was best to get it started now.

Once that was set up, I walked back over to Chic, who had removed her shoes, and we resumed our kissing.  Passionate, with lots of tongue, exactly how I like it!  We pulled each other very close, so that we couldn't have been any closer.  Eventually we made it to the bed and were immediately grinding on each other. We broke apart just long enough to strip down to our underwear.  Chic wore a black bra and sexy white panties which revealed some gorgeous tan lines on her tush.

Chic's body surpassed nearly everyone previous to her.  She was curvy, with perfect-sized breasts like Leah, and firm all over, like Aussie and Staci.  Not so firm that there wasn't some jiggle to her, of course, but firm enough so it felt like she took great care of herself.  Her white smile never left her face, unless she was covering it with a pillow so she could be as loud as she wanted when I was inside her.

Not a single tattoo to be found on that delicious body.  Just a tasteful bellybutton piercing.  God, I was in heaven, and she definitely enjoyed me as well.  Lots of compliments, tons of kissing, hands everywhere, nails on my back and shoulders.  We used a condom both times we had sex, which I liked because I got to climax inside her.  She said afterward, "I haven't cum like that in such a long time!" Apparently she hadn't had sex in about six months, when she'd hooked up with her ex-boyfriend.  "I'm very, very picky," she said when I asked her why she'd waited so long.  "That makes me feel kind of special," I said. "You should feel special," she replied, adding, "I've wanted to be with you since the first day." I guess I shouldn't think too much about exclusivity; it appears to be her default state.

One of the greatest things about Chic's sexuality was how her body responded.  She is extremely strong, and when she got really aroused, particularly when she was on top of me, she'd wrap her arms around my neck and pull herself all the way down to me, then rock her hips forward while tightening her whole body.  She did this so often and for such long stretches that I could only take very shallow breaths.  I had to ease her up for a minute to catch my wind, and it made me laugh.  I told myself later that night that I was going to need to get back in shape to hold my own with this girl.

After sex we soaked in the tub and talked.  Chic told me that the reason why her schedule freed up was that the owner, her boss, grossly mismanaged the business, and would likely fail in the next few months. Also, the investors backed away and refused to give any more money to support the business.  The owner was even arguing with clients over services and payment, which, when one's clients are professional athletes and their representatives, is a sure sign that failure is imminent.  She said she didn't quite know what she was going to do.  I surmised that I came along at just the right time to help her through this rough patch, but that she'd land on her feet.  "You should call the investors and ask them to support you to buy out the owner and run the business yourself," I suggested.  "I already run the business," she replied, "but I have no money to do anything because he has no money."  She said the investors have already contacted her and told her to "hold tight" and they'd be in contact with her.  Perhaps she'll come out of this with her own business, which would be a great thing.

The owner had even taken Chic to Hawaii in the past couple of months, on a trip she thought was supposed to be a business meeting with some new investors.  As it turned out, however, he wanted to alter their relationship. She said that he told her that he believed they were meant to be together forever -- he's married -- and he did his best to have sex with her. She shot that down right away, and felt lucky that she'd had her own room for this trip. When she returned to the mainland, she told him that she couldn't put in the hours as she previously had.

Chic has some alternatives -- dancing, in particular -- but it might be some time before she feels stable again.  She's not showing the stress all that much, and I'm glad that she's appreciative of my money and attention.

I pulled her close and we started kissing again.  We dried off and I opened the tub drain before we made it again to the bed.

Because I had to wear a condom, I knew I wouldn't cum again, and I knew that no matter how much lube we used, she'd get sore, which she did after about 10 minutes.  I made my case for bareback in the future, "once we've known each other awhile, can trust each other, and are exclusive," and she agreed that yes, it was something we could shoot for.

We also discussed sexual fantasies.  I learned that she wanted to try having sex with two men at the same time, or to have same room sex with another couple.  "That can be arranged!" I told her.  She also said she wouldn't mind being photographed or video'd during sex, but that it would all have to be deleted right away.  I used to do that with C/Hayden, and I'd love to do that again.  I shared that I'd like to do a threesome with two girls again, and that it was OK for the girls not to do each other.

After about two hours together, she said she had to leave to join a girlfriend for dinner.  She didn't bother to wash up since she'd have to go home first to change clothes.  We shared some sweet kisses and hugs, and made plans to see each other in two weeks.  "Or, if I need you sooner than that, I'll call you," she said.  I'm hoping that that happens.  Her birthday is next week; let's see if she wants me as a present!

I left the hotel with the tub still draining(!), and drove to pick one of my kids up from sports practice. Thoroughly exhausted, I fell asleep in the parking lot for about 15 minutes.

Chic definitely will work as my new partner.  What to do about Aussie remains unresolved, though I know I won't sleep with her again.  I feel that having sex again would just make me sadder that she's leaving.  Better just to move on now and try to remain as friends.  My current plan, not finalized, is to invite her to lunch, give her an envelope with some cash for her airfare, and say goodbye and offer my sincerest hopes that we stay friends.  I truly like Aussie and would be very disappointed indeed if I didn't get to chat with her again.  But, none of this is up to me, of course.

Monday, July 11, 2016

My First Date with Chic: a Preview

All this past week, Chic and I have exchanged some pretty flirtatious texts.  She's sent me T&A pics disconnected from her face, as well as full length shots of herself fully clothed.  I am 100% certain that I'm going to enjoy being with her today.

Here's the highlight text I got from her yesterday: "I just got off in the shower thinking about tomorrow.  There won't be a lot of time for chit chat!"  She followed that up with a shot of her backside, covered in a pair of thin pink panties.

As far as looks go, Chic resembles Megan Fox: black hair, bright eyes, sculpted eyebrows.  I know, lucky me, right?  Chic has a dance background, and while wondering about the rest of her life, I googled her first name, her current profession, and where we lived.  Up came a Linked-In profile with her picture.  So now I had her last name, so I searched Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Busy girl, she is!  Lots of pictures of her with girlfriends, but not much in the past year.  Probably due to her busy work schedule.  However, I knew she was just visiting back east so I did see some pictures from that trip.  I liked the ones where she was shot in dance poses or working as a professional sports team cheerleader most of all.  I am just certain that her body, like Aussie's, will be banging.  The big plus for me is that Chic is naturally busty.  I have to admit that, even though I like a slim, small-breasted, fit look, I also like a fit woman with curves.  Chic fits that bill quite nicely, with a body that reminds me of Leah's for its curves, and Staci's for fitness.

In about five hours or so, I'll be naked and inside her.  More to cum afterward!

Thursday, July 7, 2016

Aussie Date #6: Our Last Time?

In my previous post I wrote about Aussie, "I'm not sure that things aren't cooling off between us. She's lately taken to single-syllable responses to my texts; always a sign for me of distraction."

The day before our date I texted her and asked how she was. "I'm good, I'll catch you up on stuff when I see you." Well, at least I got a sentence this time.  I invited her to lunch ahead of our meeting for sex. "I'll just see you at 3," she wrote.  I vacillated back and forth between "She's holding something back" and "She's just really busy with work."  Still I contented myself with being able to see her and have some really good sex.  A month is a long time for me to go without it!

I picked up a card and the money the morning of our date.  It was a blank card with a drawing of a sunflower on the outside.  Inside I wrote, "Thank you, lover, for brightening my life!"  I stuffed the allowance inside the card as well and sealed the envelope before getting on with my work day.

I honestly had a hard time concentrating because I was so excited to see her.

I showed up right at 3 pm and texted her to let me into her parking lot.  I saw her walking toward the gate with her clicker, wearing a short sundress and sandals.  After I parked, she came over to the car where we hugged and kissed.  "Lots to tell you," she said.  I realized then that my initial impression -- that there was something off -- had been correct.

Once inside her little apartment, as I was laying the envelope on her kitchen counter, she said, "I think my job is a scam."  You'll recall from a couple of months ago that Aussie had found a job working for a production company, where she'd do both show running and on-screen hosting.  Well, after a couple of weeks of working while they were all straightening out her immigration status and paperwork so she could get paid, it turned out that this "company" was nothing more than a scam using free labor to get their work done.  After two months without a paycheck, along with a constant string of excuses as to why they hadn't paid her or anyone else, Aussie realized that she'd probably been scammed (at least they weren't taking her money) to work for free. It was at that point that she started doing online research about the people who employed her.  Should have done that first, honey!  She discovered that there were numerous aliases for each of the heads of this company, and that this was something they had done multiple times before.  She then contacted the state labor board and lodged her complaints and stopped working.

You see where this is leading, right?

I listened to her story, and looked at the pages and pages of scribbled notes she'd jotted down (she didn't own a printer so she just copied down what she saw on each web page -- hopefully she also bookmarked each page) and said, "I'm not one to say 'I told you so,' baby, but..."  "I know," she replied, I wish I'd listened to you."  She seemed tense, and I thought she might also have lost some weight since our last date because she looked pretty thin.  We got into the bedroom and got undressed and lay on her bed, moving pillows aside so we could hold each other and kiss.  The sex felt good, and lasted a long time, but she didn't come.  

Afterward, she told me some more news: because she'd spent all this time not making any money, she had to ask her mother for rent, and there was a very good chance that if she couldn't recover any back pay from this company, she'd have to return to Australia.  I asked if she could go out on acting auditions, but she said she'd need to update her head shots and didn't have the bucks to do that.  I then suggested she do what she'd originally said she'd do if she hadn't found adequate acting work after three months: go get a regular throwaway gig.  "Can't do that because my visa only allows me to act. I could do some under the table stuff, but ..." she trailed off.  Poor kid, she was a mess, and I realized that this would probably be the last time we'd be together.  Even though she said she wanted to see me again before the end of this month, I resolved not to go there with her.  "I think that you should probably go back," I said, "but would it mean for good?"  "Yeah, probably," she replied.  

So that settled it.  This was our last time together, at least in my mind.  With Chic available and very excited to get together, I had to rely on my short-term relationship skills and end this thing with Aussie quickly and honorably.  I didn't want to pile on the pain and end it right there (not honorable), I decided that when the time came for us to discuss our next date, I'd call her and wish her well.

After just an hour or so together, I thought it appropriate for me to get going.  I showered up, dressed, and gave her a big hug both in her apartment and at my car.  

She texted me on my way home. "Such a lovely card, thank you xoxo."  "Many, many hugs for you, my love," I replied.

I'll probably send her money anyway to help her transition and get the airfare to return home.

I'll definitely miss Aussie.  I had hoped she would be a long-term girlfriend, but that is not meant to be.  She is one of the best lovers I've ever had, is a totally sweet human being, and was more than a convenient SB choice for me.  I'll have to return to hotels and condoms with Chic, or whoever turns out to be my next mistress.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Aussie Date #6: A Preview

Aussie and I get together for our sixth time this week, one day ahead of my wedding anniversary.  It will have been a month since our last date, delayed by my family vacation at the end of last month. We had talked last time about going to dinner, but given the circumstances, I think I'll delay that till the next date.

While on vacation, I texted Aussie a few times, and she sent me a link to her  Amazon Wishlist with some items she'd like me to buy for her.  All of these items are between $150 and $200 and are stuff for her apartment.  I haven't yet bought anything because I'm not sure that things aren't cooling off between us.  She's lately taken to single-syllable responses to my texts; always a sign for me of distraction.  I thought the other day that since it's been a month, she has likely had sex at least a few times since our last date.  Wondering how to ask about this has crossed my mind; I need to know these things because I need to be as safe as I can.  Plus, if she's gotten into someone else perhaps she would move on from the relationship.  In any event that would be fine with me.  I've never lacked the ability to find someone else.

Along those lines, I reached out to Chic before I left on vacation.  You'll remember Chic from our breakfast at the end of March, but that things didn't work out because of our incompatible schedules. She remembered me from then and mentioned that her schedule had changed and that she'd actually have some days off each week.  We discussed it a little bit, and she has a roommate so we'd have to hotel it, but I'm down for that.

I think I'd like to fuck this girl, and I think I might.