Tag Archive | experiences

To everything there is a season…

pregnantheart

I’m still alive! It’s been over 2 months since I have written in my blog and I have missed it. There are some reasons that I have been holding back, and it’s more than just being busy. I think my emotions got the best of me, to the point where I was almost AFRAID to write about it.

I’ve been scared to admit, even to myself, just how hard I’ve fallen for the Cohort. Somehow, even writing it down, makes me feel really vulnerable. I’m going to be brave here though, and admit that I really, really like him. The married man asked if I love him (he can tell my behavior has changed, and wanted to know what was up) and I still didn’t want to use those words, but yeah, I’m in pretty deep.

I know, there have been others. Some of you all will remember the Professor. I don’t think that’s even close to comparable to this situation though. I mean, I’m looking at this man and thinking IF (big IF) he wanted it (and I’m still unsure about his true feelings on the matter), I would be happy to spend the rest of my life with him, open OR monogamous.

In the past couple of months, since I last wrote in my blog, I have only slept with the married man one other time. It was at his house, in his home office, during the day. I was on his desk, bent over the desk, and laying on the desk with my head on his computer keyboard, lol. It was fun, but my heart, is elsewhere. He can tell. He’s like why don’t you want to meet up as often, you are seeing someone aren’t you?

I’ve gone on dates a few times, and there is even this guy that keeps buying me flowers and wants to be my boyfriend, but I’m just not feeling it. Different men have tried to resurface from my past (like the guy who originally introduced me to the swinger site) and I went out to lunch with them or something, but just wasn’t interested.

Actually, it’s probably a good thing I haven’t been having sex with others, because something happened recently with the Cohort and I was very thankful that there was no question in my mind about other men. He got me pregnant.

I knew, the moment he came inside me, that it was a possibility. It was right in the middle of my cycle and I was insanely horny. We were having that great, babymaking, kind of sex and he surprised me by not pulling out. We then went on to fuck like 7 more times in a row (though he did pull out then).

For the next couple of weeks, I noted the symptoms I was having and something in me just knew. Sure enough, right before my period was due, I got a light positive on a pregnancy test. I took two more tests, wanting to be 100% sure before telling him. All positive.

What’s funny, is that, before I found out for sure, it was in the back of my head, but I didn’t say anything. Still, it almost felt like the Cohort knew. He denies knowing a thing, so maybe it was all subconscious, but some of the things he said that couple of weeks were interesting. Like, he made comments on how “fertile” I am and that made me wonder. Then he took me out one night for crab legs, which I’d never eaten before, but they are high in folic acid (especially great for older pregnant moms) followed by ice cream (calcium of course)! It was almost like he was instinctually taking care of his unborn baby (and we didn’t even have sex that night).

The night I told him, I was actually on a date with another guy. It was a second date, one that most likely would have turned into sex, had I not found out just before. I didn’t want to stand the poor guy up because he’d been super nice, but I wasn’t there emotionally. Add that the Cohort knew I was with him, and had asked me to clean up and come over and fuck HIM when I was done, and yeah, I was totally “elsewhere”. I wanted out of there so badly, even though it wasn’t a bad date and the guy seemed cool otherwise. Just, he was totally freaking me out telling me he wanted me to commit to him and not see any other men!

I later explained to the guy why I had acted the way I did, wouldn’t drink alcohol and left without the roses he bought for me. He STILL tried to get me to come back, saying he wanted to “be there” for me through it all. Heck, the guy is still texting me asking me on dates, and I feel like I have treated him pretty poorly. Emotionally, I just couldn’t do it.

In any case, I didn’t sleep with him and I went straight to the Cohort’s afterwards. I showed him a positive test. He was freaked out, as was I, but he still asked me to stay the night. We had sex, and this time, he was free to cum in me all that he wanted. A lot of that night though, was spent just staring at each other like, “what now??”

The next week was a roller coaster ride of ups and downs. He was really stressed out and upset, worried about things like finances and what others would think. He even suggested abortion, which had me crushed, because its something I know I could never do. I shed a lot of tears, and the pregnancy finally ended in a miscarriage anyway. 😦

Through it all, I was encouraged, because despite his comments otherwise, I could see and feel that no matter what, should the baby have been born, he would have been there and taken raising a child with me seriously. He later told me he was worried about things like making sure my other kids and I had a bigger house and a better standard of living, that he felt like it would be unfair to them if he only focused on the baby he would be having with me. He said he couldn’t be one of these dads that just threw a couple hundred dollars and some diapers at me every month. I definitely saw him at some low points but he never tried to point blame and he was firmly “there” for me the entire time, despite fluctuating emotions.

I think, ultimately, the experience drew us closer together. He told me afterwards that my kindness and understanding towards him even when he wasn’t being very nice himself, showed him what kind of a person I really am and that he really appreciated that. Recently he made a comment about how maybe he and I will be seeing each other for a long time. I guess only time will tell if that comes to pass.

I am sad to have lost a baby, but with the grief also comes some relief. It was not under the best circumstances or timing.

I also had an interesting, and somewhat comforting, dream the other night. In my dream I was in the Cohort’s childhood home (which I’ve never seen), talking to his mother (who passed away a couple years ago, I’ve never even seen a picture). She was showing me a blanket she had stitched the Cohort’s name onto, and the date. The blanket had trains on it and she patiently demonstrated the technique she had used to put this important information on, with a blue thread. It FELT as though she were saying to let him know (pointing out his name) the baby was with her, wrapped in the blanket, and that she was taking care of things.

In any case, we are back to having sex and continuing whatever it is we have with each other. My kids were at their dads this weekend and I spent the night with the Cohort. We had sex at least 10 times in a 24 hour period, lol, plus a nice dinner, a lovely brunch, and spent some hours working together. I’m not really sure what the future holds but I am watching things develop with this man, and wondering.

Sampling the Continental Platter

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I’ve slept with 7 different guys in the past 2 weeks, though only one was brand new. That doesn’t even count the Married Man, who I haven’t had a chance to fuck lately,or the Host, who hit me up, but I’ve kind of avoided.

I’m starting to wonder if I should slow it down. Not that I mind all the sex, but part of me wonders if this is really okay, or if my sex sprees are unhealthy. Then again, maybe I’m just buying into society’s unfair standards for sexual behavior, especially when it comes to women.

Granted, there were a couple of sexual experiences in there that I didn’t really enjoy. Still I wouldn’t have known that for sure unless I tried them. For example, the Englishman.

I met this guy off the swinger site. He had attractive, professional looking pictures and said something about how he speaks 4 different languages. When he emailed I was already drowning in dick, but I was like this guy is kinda hot, why not?

So I responded, by text, while I was sitting in the shop waiting on my vehicle to be fixed. Then I promptly forgot about it. Mere minutes later, as I was driving, I recieved a call from an unknown number. The caller ID showed a suspicious looking, foreign sounding, name.

When I answered I wasn’t particularly friendly. I was thinking it was probably some Nigerian scam artist. I hadn’t realized from the guy’s pictures that he was not an American. He identified himself and said that he is from England. His accent seemed to prove that. He’d just moved here 7 months ago, supposedly to go to law school.

He was sort of abrupt and didn’t want to beat around the bush. He wanted to meet for sex and I hemmed and hawed for a minute because of his lack of manners or attempts to get to know me first. He said he found me attractive and didn’t I like his pictures and we should get together to fuck.

I commented, “but you haven’t even seen my face yet”. He didn’t think that mattered and just wanted to meet up. I found an excuse to get off the phone and ignored several of his other calls and texts, over the next few days, while I thought about it. I responded to some of them but he was seeming pushy and I don’t like that.

Okay, his pictures were attractive enough. He had a few validations on the site but mostly they just said he was the man in the pictures, or that they had met him at a party. Still, why not? What was holding me back? He was right, he was attractive enough to fuck on a physical level, and then you have the added excitement of someone new and different, from another country, and even with a kind of cool accent.

I decided to go ahead and give it a whirl, but I said I would need to meet him someplace in public first. He wasn’t real thrilled with that but said we could meet at a Starbucks near his house. I got an address from him and put it in the GPS on my phone.

I don’t know why it didn’t register that he probably wouldn’t have the exact street address for Starbucks but I was confused when my GPS took me to an apartment complex instead. Grrrr…. He met me in the parking lot.

I said I thought we were going to Starbucks first and he said oh yeah, we could. Did I want to follow him or could he just ride with me? I’m thinking, this motherfucker does not have a car and this is his little game to get me to give him a ride. So I said I’d rather follow him (to see what he would do). He said, come on, couldn’t I see he was a decent guy?

I begrudginly relented, after a bit of begging, and let him in my van. He didn’t even know where a Starbucks was, but said his roommate told him there was one close by. I put it in my GPS and the closest one was 8 minutes away. He tried to wheedle his way out of going but I wasn’t about to let him get away without at least a $3 drink, after all that.

He paid for our drinks, though I suspect he was less than thrilled about it, and we sat down at a table outside. According to him, he is 33, works as a personal trainer and does a little modeling on the side. When pressed about law school, he claimed he is studying to take the Bar exam online.

He was very proud of the pictures he has on the site and was like “now can you see that is really me?” I was wondering why I would even doubt that. I mean they look professional but what was the big deal? He said he is doing a shoot for GQ in 3 months, in New York, and has to spend a lot of time getting ready.

I mean, okay, I can believe that part, I guess. The pics he has on there do look a bit GQish. My former brother in law works as a personal trainer/model and is poor as hell on his own (though he has a rich boyfriend). He travels to New York for stuff like that too and is in magazines like Men’s Health.

Whatever. I mean I can see that he has features that some of those magazines would appreciate but I know guys I think are hotter that aren’t “models”. His conceit and incessant bragging were annoying too. He asked me if he was my “type,” obviously referring to his looks and I was like uh, I guess, though I don’t really know what your personality is like yet. He couldn’t understand and said I was gorgeous and clearly his type.

I asked about swinger parties he has been to and he claimed he never has. He said he doesn’t need those to get laid and all he has to do is walk into a bar and the women are all over him. He’d only signed up because of a friend telling him about it and wasn’t impressed. I guess he forgot there are people saying they met him at a party, ON his profile!

He claimed he’d just had a threesome a couple of days ago, with two women. They thought he was so hot that they had invited him back to their house. A likely story….

We finished our drinks and he suggested we go back to his place so I could give him a massage. Inwardly, I was rolling my eyes. EVERY single time a guy has suggested starting things off with a massage for HIM, he has turned out to suck in bed. I should have known, and I suspected, but I went along with it anyhow.

Why? I don’t know. I wasn’t that impressed with him. I guess it was because I was already there, he was decent enough looking and I was curious to see how an English guy was in bed? Maybe he would surprise me? Sorry, folks from the UK, but he didn’t represent, lol. You all may have to help him out here…

He had an average looking apartment, which he said he shared with a guy from Israel who wasn’t there at the moment. We went directly back to his room, where he put some music on his notepad and stripped down to his boxer briefs. He lay on the bed and told me it was all mine and I could come and get it.

God, he was so full of himself. Like he thought he was just supposed to lie there and display his dick and I would get all excited about it. Modeling, for me. Yippeeee…..

I had to push him to wear a condom, but he did. He asked if he had the biggest dick I’d ever seen. Uh, yeah, sure, lol. I mean he was bigger than average but nothing I’ve never experienced before.

It was over quickly and somewhere in there he called himself my “boy”. Ack! Afterwards, he wanted to cuddle and tell me that he was thinking about a serious relationship. HELP! I wanted to get out of there sooo badly, lol. He said he was developing feelings and falling for me, even though he wasn’t expecting that.

According to him the sex was incredible. I always wonder about that. Can it really be that great for one person and not the other? I have my doubts.

Come on dude. More like you want a green card. Or a sugar mama, at the very least. NOT gonna happen. WRONG woman, lol. The last thing I want is a “boy”.

I ignored his calls and texts after and thankfully there were only a couple. I was afraid he’d be the stalker type. Whew.

There are more stories to tell but I don’t have time at the moment. Bad sex with the Bodybuilder, who also wants something serious with me, as does the Poly guy (similar experience number two with him and his girlfriend), and the other guy, who I will call Mr. Shady, he claims to want to commit to me too, after he and his girlfriend break up, in a few months. Give me a break!

My commitment issues are going into overdrive. I don’t want ANYBODY tying me down right now!! Did I seriously write something about wanting “more” not too long ago? SMFH…. What was I thinking??

The guys that I am happiest with are mostly taken already. What’s sad is that is sort of a relief for me.

Well, other than the Cohort. When we are together he is making me laugh so hard my sides hurt too. I mean, I could see something more there and he has kind of hinted at it but he already knows what I am up to and is doing his own thing as well, so I don’t think I have to worry about being overly restricted there.

He’s like “you are like a guy when it comes to sex”. LOL I feel that way sometimes too. I don’t think I am masculine in most ways, but sometimes I wonder if my sex drive is abnormal. I’ve always felt like I wanted it just as much, or more than the guys I have been with.

I know there are other women out there in a similar boat, but they seem few and far between. Or maybe they are just covering it up better. I do hear some wild stories about swinger women.

I actually felt kind of prude the other day when a couple of different people were talking about tying me up and I didn’t feel comfortable. I’ve always kind of wanted to try that but I’m paranoid unless its someone I feel safe with and trust. Comparatively, it seems like a lot of these swinger women are doing all kinds of wild and crazy things all the time.

Seems like every time I hear about a swinger woman she’s tied up and having an anal gangbang with complete strangers, while they slap her in the face and call her a bitch. Mr. Firm says that’s just because I only hear the extreme stories and most women aren’t doing that. I guess he would know. 😉 The Cohort says if he ever meets a woman who wants an anal gangbang he is going to pick up the phone and call me right then and there, lol.

So maybe what I’m imagining in my head and comparing myself to, isn’t reality. I still haven’t been tied up or handcuffed, but maybe someday. The Cohort did have me wear a collar during sex the other day, lmao.

I came over and he had two wine glasses sitting on the coffee table for us, each one inside a studded leather collar. One said “slut” and the other said “bitch”. He said “pick one” and I was like oookayyy…I’ll take “slut,” I guess, lol. He said, “I knew it! Everyone picks that one”. “Everyone??” I asked. You have “everyone” that comes over here wear that?? He shook his head at me and said no, not “everyone” but a select few. Haha

I finally put it on though, along with the body stocking he had gotten me off Amazon, that looks like this (I picked it out-its crotchless with cute little bows up the back). He thought it looked hot and we had fun, but no tying up, yet…. 😉

A Stranger’s Sybian

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Tonight I finally went through with something I’ve fantasized about doing for quite some time.   I met a complete stranger off of Craigslist and went to his house to ride his Sybian machine.  I can’t say it was all it was cracked up to be but it was an interesting experience.

I had communicated with this man awhile back, I think shortly after breaking up with the Professor.  I hadn’t had time to actually follow through with meeting up but I’d kept his emails.  What had partly kept me from going there was when I found out he lives in the SAME apartment complex as the Prof.  I didn’t want the Prof to see my vehicle and think he was being stalked, lol. That, and lack of time.

This time it was a little different because the Professor and I have been chatting here and there.  Actually, I was kind of hoping he’d take it the next step and invite me over tonight because he knew I was going to be alone and was dropping the kids off for a few hours, but he didn’t. He claimed he would probably be sitting at home alone watching a movie and was acting sad that he didn’t have plans to go out. Hmmm..  I think that is especially odd he wouldn’t bother to ask me, since he’s been telling me he misses me and wants to talk? 

Oh well.  Since he didn’t seem like he wanted to hang out, and some other plans of mine had fallen through, I needed something to occupy myself.  The married man and I were going to meet, since his wife is out of town, but then he got hit in the face with a ball and his tooth almost went through his lip.  He wasn’t feeling too hot and didn’t want me to drive up last night.  Tonight, he said he wanted to see me but that he wouldn’t be able to go down on me or kiss and he felt like if I am going to drive all the way there he wants to make it worth my while.  Totally understand that so I’m not mad at him.

He changed his mind a couple of times and tried to see if I would still come up there but I had made arrangements to pick up my kids in a few hours and said I’d better not.  Not that he wouldn’t be awesome sex even without the kissing or licking, lol.  He’s wonderful with his cock and I’ve no doubt I’d still have tons of orgasms.  There will be more times with him.  The sex is just too freaking good, I know it will have to happen again.

Also, there was a guy on the swinger site that I would have loved to have met up with tonight but there seems to be some kind of issue with me emailing him.  He’s sent me his email three different times from the site, and each time I tried to send him emails he apparently never got them.  So he keeps emailing me on the site but I can’t get back to him!  Sooo frustrating, I am guessing my mails must be ending up in his spam folder or something.  He was here in town tonight and from his pics and validations looked and sounded really good.  So much for that!

On to the Sybian.  Before I went there I made sure to text a male friend and tell him what I was up to.  I gave him the guy’s address and said this is in case I never return.  He said okay and make sure I tell the guy that he has it too, which I did.

So I drove over to this guy’s apartment.  He lives on the other side of the complex from the Prof, thankfully, but you have to drive in the same entrance gate to get there.  I was a little concerned he might see me and was relieved that I didn’t pass him in his car or anything.  He had mentioned going to the store an hour or so before. 

I was a little nervous when I knocked on the door but the guy seemed normal and friendly.  He was an overweight, average looking, 40 something white guy.  There was actually something really familiar about his face and I was wondering where I’d seen him before.  Church?  A swinger party?  Hmmmm…  haha  In any case, he was nice and non- threatening.  Still, I mentioned I had shared his address with someone, in case he was a serial killer.  He laughed and said that was fine.

His house looked a lot like the Professors inside.  I could see a treadmill in the living room and bottles of wine on the counter in the kitchen.  It was well lit and he lead me down the hall to his bedroom, where there was a large screen TV and a queen sized bed.  On the floor in front of the bed was the Sybian machine, all set up.  I glanced around for any hidden cameras but nothing in sight, lol.

He opened a bag and pulled out several different attachments, lying them across the bed.  I got to pick which one I want but I wasn’t sure.  Some of them looked way too huge and others had inserts for your ass or looked like a finger.  He said most women pick one of these and some like to put this penis sheath on the top, showing me a couple of average looking ones.  The penis sheath, even the smallest one, looked suspiciously wide.  But I decided to go with that.

It had ridges and bumps on the bottom of the piece that you could rub your clit against.  Anyhow, he placed it across the Sybian machine and added a condom, lubing it up.  I asked if a lot of women come and ride it and he said he’s had a handful, or something like that.  He said he likes to share it and that it belonged to his ex wife but he got it in the divorce.  I commented that she must have been mad about that and he said actually not, that she’d been concerned it was desensitizing her.

He told me I didn’t need to take all my clothes off, whatever was comfortable for me.  I opted to pull off my shorts and panties but left my shirt and bra on.  I regretted that later because when I was in the middle of getting off I kind of wanted to take it all off but I didn’t.  I had on a flimsy little satiny tank with a zipper down the front that comes off quite easily too. He said it was up to me who would run the controls and I said I’d rather it be him since I didn’t know what I was doing (and figured I’d want to focus on other things).

He sat in front of me on the floor and gave me a little stool to hold onto if need be.  Then I climbed aboard, lol.  It was kind of a big attachment and hard to straddle so when he started moving it around inside me I had to ask him to stop.  I remember not liking that feeling at my first swinger party when I rode the Sybian there either.  So he stopped the inside movement and I just straddled the fake cock while he turned up the vibrations.

He never turned it up very high but it felt pretty strong to me.  I came but it took a while and I can’t say the orgasms were near as good as with my favorite men or with my toy at home.  Perhaps it was because he was staring at me and he just wasn’t someone that turned me on, lol.  In my fantasies, even if the guy is a stranger and maybe not that attractive, he still would be different.  Like less, harmless?  I don’t know, haha.

This guy was just too nice and non- scary.  Which is good, but then again, not so good when I am trying to get off, lmao.  😉  It’s funny because there are really only 3 people in my life who I’ve really been able to get off with.  With any others the orgasms are like sub- par and it makes me think about that a bit.

Those three guys are the Married Man, The Professor, and this one guy that I used to fuck back in high school.  I pretty much hated him but the sex was sooo good.  Anyhow, what they have in common, that I can see, is all being both really dominant in bed AND being sweet but in a way I don’t really know how to describe.  Even the one guy, though he was an asshole, and our first couple times having sex were forced, he was still really more “loving” in bed.  There is something about that combination of being both super dominant and super giving that just drives me wild.  Orgasms from a machine just don’t compare.  When I’m on my own with my vibrator or shower massager I do pretty well but I have to get lost in fantasy.  That’s hard when you have Mr. Nice Guy staring you in the face.

So anyway, I came, and even a few times, but not in full force.  He seemed to enjoy watching anyhow and didn’t try anything on me.  He mentioned that some women like to have sex afterwards but that he never pushes and I was more than happy to get dressed again and be on my merry way.  I received an email after I left from him stating that I am free to come back for another ride any time he is at home.  Maybe sometime if I have nothing better to do, and am horny enough and in the mood, haha.

 

The ghosts of guys in the past

He stood at the foot of the bed, looking especially handsome with his shirt off, leaning in towards me, talking in a hushed tone of voice. I lay on the bed, waiting for him to finish undressing. I hadn’t seen him in years but it felt so right to be doing this again. We smiled at each other and kissed, me wrapping my arms around his neck, before there was a knock at the door. He got up, walking past the long wooden chest that sat against the wall. The size and shape reminded me of a casket. I looked out the second story window and down at the people milling about on the lawn below. Friends we’d partied with when we were younger were drinking and talking amongst a sea of unfamiliar faces.

The knocking became more intense and the door opened a crack. Someone was being very persistent, and trying to rattle and push the door open. “WAIT, I’m not ready yet!” shouted my friend, pushing back up against the door, but the guy on the other side wouldn’t let up. It was then that I realized he had a gun. The struggle continued with both men pushing against the door in opposite directions, then…

BANG!!!! I shot up in bed. My body was shaking, tears streaming down my cheeks. I hadn’t thought about him in years. It had been at least a decade since we’d seen each other and my life was so different. Why now? Why would I have a dream about HIM, of all people? Not that we’d ever had any kind of fight or argument, he just hadn’t so much as crossed my mind in ages.

My part- time minister husband was working his regular job that night and not at home. It was hard for me to fall back asleep in the dark. My mind was swimming with memories and questions. Had God awoken me with a dream like that for a reason? Was I supposed to pray for this guy, and the people I had known in the past? Maybe that was it. I buried my face in the pillow, trying to pray, trying to quell my racing heart and the feeling of fear that I couldn’t shake.

Two days later my sister called me. Had I heard about what happened? The guy in my dream had been killed two days before. Shot, at a party, and then beaten with the gun. All the people there had scattered, and left him to die alone. According to my calculations he would have been laying there, on the verge of death at the approximate time of my dream. It happened in a second story apartment. Chills ran through my body as his voice echoed in my ears “WAIT, I’m not ready yet!”

At the time of his death he was 28 years old. My mind flashed back to moments in the past. The time when I’d been sitting on the curb with him after his sister died. He was drunk and trying to call her on the cordless phone. It’s the only time I’d ever seen him break down and cry. He’d told me then that he knew he’d never live to be 30 and I kept telling him to stop saying that but he insisted it was true. He said he wanted to get out of the lifestyle he was living, the parties, the chaos and I asked him why he didn’t just ask everyone to leave now and he said he couldn’t do it.

Years before he’d said the same thing. We were lying in bed after having sex and I was imploring him to tell me what he wanted to do with his future. “Are you going to go to college?” I asked and he’d responded that there would be no point since he knew he’d never live to be 30. Unconvinced, I insisted that it didn’t have to be that way, that he shouldn’t give up and he relented and said he’d probably go to community college.

I wanted to attend his funeral but couldn’t. My ex-husband thought I should forgo all contact with the people of the past and that even thinking or talking about it was “glorifying Satan” and quite possibly tempting myself to return to my former sinful ways. Plus a wake was an evil Catholic concoction that was simply an excuse for drinking alcohol. I grieved in silence. My sister, who had only known him in passing, went with her then boyfriend and reported back to me. She kept me updated on the news the papers failed to report, the underground word on the street, the fact that he’d had large amounts of cocaine coursing through his veins and a recent drug deal under his belt at the time of his death.

I have to wonder what that dream really meant. Was he still alive when I dreamt it? Was he lying on the floor dying, his life flashing before his eyes and somehow I crossed his mind? Did he come to me for a reason, after his death? If so, why me? I’ve had many dreams that were eerily prophetic but that was one of the most vivid and real I have ever experienced.

What’s funny is that he and I were never what I’d really call “close”. We’d had sex on quite a few occasions, maybe a dozen times, but it was far from a “relationship”. More like fuck buddies and we were relatively emotionally distant from one another. Still I’d spent quite a bit of time around him and at his house, sleeping with other people and sometimes he was there with other girls too. Neither one of us cared or was jealous or bothered by it at all.

He was the quintessential “alpha male” of the pack. The guy everyone looked up to and respected as a leader. His house was the center for many of the wilder get-togethers and parties of my youth. He was also the biggest manwhore I have ever met! Upon his death he had at least 6 or 7 known children with different women, one of my sister’s friends was pregnant with his baby and another friend of mine had a teenage daughter that he never even knew belonged to him. I honestly think he had sex with at LEAST 2/3 of the females I knew in high school. LOL

I can trace many of my more debase sexual experiences back to him, though I hold no grudges. He was never mean and as someone described him in a newspaper after his death, was “always debonair with the ladies”. I even remember once walking into a room at his house, when it was full of people, and finding him sitting on the end of the bed, watching his 10 year old sister sleep. He said there was no way he was letting any of these guys near her and was determined to protect her. Unfortunately he was unable to protect her from her own untimely death at the age of 13, which was truly heartbreaking.

It’s funny how the people of the past and the experiences you have with them shape the person you are today. Every person I have had sex with, even the one night stands, hold some kind of meaning in my life. Granted there is at least one on my written list that I can’t remember who the hell he was for the life of me, but overall we become a compilation of those we’ve had sexual relations with. It defines how we ourselves become in bed.

The guy I mentioned above once asked me who was the best in bed out of all the guys I’d slept with (or more specifically out of the ones I’d slept with that he knew personally, aka “his boys”, lol). He begged me to be totally honest and tell the truth, so I did. Even though I knew he wanted me to say it was him I told him what I really thought, and that was someone else, his best friend. He took it well and didn’t get upset. Another friend of mine thought he was the best in bed ever, but I just didn’t. To me the sex was mediocre, yet there are a lot of things I never would have experienced had it not been for him.

I think the people in our pasts, like it or not, will always haunt us, whether it be for good or bad. Sure, we can rid ourselves of a lot of unwanted baggage but the skeletons are still there in the closet, the memories that hide within popping out on us in moments we never expected. One guy will do something that reminds me of someone else. We pick people that have mannerisms or sexual behaviors that are similar to those we enjoyed in the past. From that we develop a “type” and some of us are very true to that. There are things I expect from men that maybe other women don’t and kinks I’ve developed in bed that are carried over from other lovers. It’s interesting how it all works out.

I wonder sometimes if it isn’t easier for those who are virgins until they find “the one” and stay together forever because they haven’t had those ghosts to live up to. Yet at the same time I wouldn’t trade the experiences that I’ve had because then I would never have discovered so many turn-ons that I enjoy now. It takes awhile to really develop a knowledge for what YOU want sexually and that realization would be hard to come to without trial and error. In any case, I’m ever growing as a sexual being, even now and thoroughly enjoying the process, even when it involves Ghostbusting! lol 😉