“You aren’t going to find another 22 year old like me”.
So sayeth the Wolfling whilst resting his head on my belly.
His tone was very matter of fact.
His tone is often matter of fact.
I like that.
I am not left wondering.
I smiled one of those smiles that went all the way up into my eyes. My legs were wrapped around him and I squeezed a bit.
He’s right. Except the 22 year old part, age has nothing to do with it.
He is just different. I can’t explain it.
Every Cougar ever says ‘he doesn’t act his age’.
He doesn’t act his age.
I have a long standing tradition of not blaming the current for the ones that came before.
Sometimes I don’t see the color red when it comes to flags. Truth? I am willfully colorblind. But I have never met the same man twice. Everyone is actually different.
I have had 7.5 men go ghost on me in the last year and a half.
Here one minute, like REALLY here, then, ‘poof’, completely absent the next.
But, but, didn’t you just say everyone is unique and now you are enumerating over half a dozen men doing the exact same thing in a relatively short period of time?
Wolfling was among them. Disappeared for 6 weeks, I think. Popped back into my inbox a week or so ago. Apologized thoroughly, expecting nothing, sincere. Took guts, I could’ve been a cunt about it. But I wasn’t.
I went over the next day and fucked him.
How many times are we going to do this Sarah?
Who among us hasn’t fucked up?
Myself included, I used to be an asshole.
I have gotten a firm talking-to from my big-brother-man-friends “You’re setting a bad precedent for how he’s going to treat you.”
Totally valid point, except, I don’t want to own him or train him. EW, that isn’t how this any of this is supposed to work. Can’t I just enjoy him as is?
I’m not delusional, he is twentyfuckingtwo I just wanna fuck him and hang out.
I trust him exactly enough.
He’s going to leave eventually.
I believed him when he apologized and he has been both corporeal and pretty fucking amazing since.
Let’s see, I forgive him, we’re nice to each other and I get to fuck him? Win-win.
FORGIVENESS FEELS AMAZING.
So does his mouth, cock, hands ahhhhh bliss.
I have made a choice not to fight the monsters anymore, lest I become one. (Nietzsche)
I have learned my lessons. Grudges? Not my thing.
I have to speak of unpleasant matters now, then back to the good stuff.
I know why people do the things they do. Even if it something I cannot fathom doing due to the sheer shittiness of it. This ability becomes a curse when, with my understanding comes…understanding. I make it okay. Sometimes it’s not okay.
For a decade I dated three men (with one overlap).
All 3, physically withholding.
First 2 grew up under the harsh words and hands of abusive mothers.
Breaks my fucking heart.
One withheld sex and affection when he was mad at me, I get it. We fought a lot and it was NOT sexy. Forgiven? Absolutely. Both of us.
The next? Just not an overly snuggly guy, very set in his ways. Okay, my bad for staying with someone who was incapable of something I want. I forgive myself for settling.
Third? Epic settle.
For 2 years, actually said the words to me “you are taking that hug from me”. What the ever-loving-fuck? Not okay to make me feel like shit for wanting affection from the person I chose to be affectionate with. His behaviour during/after our relationship was abhorrent. I’m waiting for my cells to replace themselves until I am clean. I am so grossed out that I ever let him lay a hand on me. I haven’t forgiven myself for that abomination, yet.
After him, I met a boy, not sure if I should call him ‘Mind Fuck’ after his blog post, or ‘Fireworks’, all bright and pretty then *poof* gone, leaving smoke trails and the smell of something burnt. Neither here nor there. The only important thing for now is this…
First date we went out for dinner and a really long walk, the entire time he stayed out of my bubble. I couldn’t read if it was a date or if we were just hanging out. I said something later and all became clear, he was just being respectful. In the conversations that followed I found myself saying, more than once, “Now that I know I am allowed…” in reference to touching him. Allowed? Where the fuck did that come from?
Ah, the third. I need a young priest and an old priest. Exorcise that fucking poltergeist, nasty haunting.
I am backwards hand shy. I want touch, but unless it’s given freely…I feel like I’m not allowed.
I have written in this blog before that I often get a massage before going near the men I date because somehow I have decided I’m too much for one person. NO I AM FUCKING NOT. I don’t want to make anyone into a Taun-Taun. I just want lots of sex and a little affection.
I went to see the Wolfling last night. Quite specifically to give him a blowjob and a backrub. He had a rough week, I missed him, I had a shitty few days and shark week happened, but my mouth isn’t broken. I’m good like that. I figure I will be there for an hour, make him happy, eat and leave.
Shock and awe.
I’m met on the porch by the beautiful, yet somewhat sleepy boy, who kissed me for 10 minutes before he walked me into the house, straight to bed for an hour, and he made damn sure I got off. Tasting, sucking, biting, grabbing, kissing, consuming, touching, teasing, exploring and after it was over, he put his arms around me and Pulled Me Closer.
Forgiveness cost me nothing, and now I have what I want.
To deny him would have served my ego, not the rest of me.
My ego is actually appeased.
He is what I want. Twice, in 4 hours, with pizza and a movie.
We ended up on the couch, just touching, perfectly natural and mutual.
Except it feels kinda like a miracle. I’m going to enjoy this while it lasts.
This Wolfling, the pleasant surprise that he is.
I’ll just keep fucking him like it’s the last time, everytime.
It’s more fun this way anyways.