I may not have much, but what I do have, I've worked hard for, and I'm proud of. As I stated in my previous post, I've reconsidered pro-creating, and the reasons for that, I'll explain more later.
Trent is so outta there...before he was even in. He's an ass, just as I concluded from our initial, and mostly only, constant text session. We text back and forth for a bit, brief and far between, but as stated, he bored me, and his mentality is not up to par with the standards that I've set, even for a fuck buddy. First of all, what man, emphasis on the word "man", doesn't eat pussy?! REALLY?! His version of fun is getting a blow job, and putting the dick on a girl. Yeah. Like that's fair or completely fun. Let me clarify my stance on it. I am a major fan of being fucked, and I'd much rather have the dick run deep in me, but every now and then, I do want my pussy ate. I mean, if I'm gonna be hooking you up, especially on a regular basis, isn't it only right and fair that I be hooked up sometimes, too?! He didn't see it that way, and when I told him that I can't see giving him bjs all the time without some initiative on the return, that kinda soured both our moods on each other. He said he would, IF he was asked, but I shouldn't have to ASK him to eat my pussy..shouldn't that just be a part of the foreplay every now and then? I know some guys who just LOVE to eat the pussy, and to those, I'm most gracious, even though I have to tell them "okay, now fuck me...I wanna feel that dick". Getting my pussy ate (and sucking on my nipples), something about the vibration on the clit, gets my motor going, and gets me wetter than shit, so by the time I'm running like Niagra Falls, I'm ready to straight pound it out..no more games, or "play", after that. Just FUCK me. After I've gotten about 3 or 4 nuts in a row (hey, if you know what spot to aim for, they're not hard to get out of me...quickly), sometimes more, you'd better get yours, because by then I'll start drying up, and I'm ready to turn over and fall asleep. Yeah, something like a man in that aspect. Give me a few to recoop and regroup, and I'll be ready again.
Either way, I'm better off. Trent did me the favor by sparing my time, as I told him to do..my words "if this isn't something that you'll be in full-throttle with, then let me know now, to save both of us the wasted time", and that's exactly what his actions portrayed (sp? they've removed "spell check" from this damned thing). No harm, no foul. Thanks, Trent.
Red finally moved. I was sad to see him go, but I know it was for the best. He had text me the day that he left, but I never responded. I didn't want to. At that point, cut-and-dry was my figurative action. I figured out what my "could-have-been" attachment was to him, and I instantly despised it. Despite the age difference, which I had to insert-foot-in-mouth after talking about Justin and his ex being so far apart in age, I could have easily fallen for Red. That's why I'm glad he moved. The reason I say that is because, after careful thought, wonder, and consideration as to "what", "why", and "how", I realized that he reminds me of a younger, slightly shorter version of Allen. Everything from the first meeting, to the first "magical" night, to his demeanor, to keeping in touch with me, to keeping a smile on my face, to the way he looks at me, to his touch, to the possibly last "magical" night. Allen. That's where my despise comes into play. He may not be as good in bed as Allen was, and I charge that to lack of experience, and may not be working with as much "hardware"-wise, but he damned sure isn't missing any other beats. When I discussed this with my mother, her very wise words to me were "well, if you feel you need to dismiss him from your life because of that, then you do what you feel is necessary, otherwise, I don't see a problem with dealing with him". Geeze, thanks, Mom. You've made it easy for me.
I did miss Red, and finally gave in to texting him after a couple of weeks, just to see how he was doing. He responded that he's not liking it in Texas, and found out he's being relocated to Arizona as a plant Foreman. Great. Even more distance between us. BUT, he was also coming home to Oklahoma for a bit before he went west, and wanted to see me. Better judgement said "no", but my body, and my emotions said "yes". Being that it had been a couple of weeks since we'd seen each other, there was alot to making up for to do. And making up for, we did. The sound of his voice (deep and country), the feel of his rugged hands, the sensuous way in which he handled my body, the gentleness of his lips as they caressed me, the feel of that hard dick that sprung up just from us looking at each other, and before I even touched him....FANTASY ISLAND!! And for the moment, I was that princess again. From the bed, to the shower, to the bed again, he knew what he was doing. "Please leave Oklahoma, Red! You're not good for me" is all I could think. This boy is gonna send me bat-shit insane! I can't allow that emotional attachment to come into play with him. This is wrong on so many levels! And the saddest part, when I looked at him once, I caught a glimpse of Allen. SON OF A BITCH!!! THIS is NOT HAPPENING!! Fuck, Fuck, FUCK!! Why am I being punished like this?! The year plus that it took trying to get over Allen, didn't I suffer enough?! And now that I considered myself emotionally ridded of him, a fucking mental-double of him enters my life! Is this some sort of "sign" to me or something? And if so, what the fuck is it a "sign" of? I mean, what did I do to deserve this torture? WHAT DID I DO??!!
Think, R, think. How else do you rid yourself of thoughts and feelings that you don't want to be bothered with?
Justin.
I know. That's very wrong of me, but that was the only way to free myself at the moment. No one or nothing else, except maybe hitting the bottle hard, could help. His birthday was coming up, and he'd been pestering me about spending it with me, so why not oblige.
I decided to take the stab at it, and at least try to get around all of this mass confusion going on in my head. I treated Justin to dinner for his birthday, then we spent a few hours in PetSmart (he adopted a kitten), then we hit a pool hall. I had to be fucked up in the head, for real, because I suck at pool, but my game was on point that night. I have no idea how that happened. We were both getting intoxicated (I stopped after 3 budlight limes since I was the desi, of course), and he was trying hard to get back to my house, but something just wouldn't let me do it. Damn. I took his tipsy ass home after hitting IHOP once the pool hall closed.
Moment after moment, I'm thinking about Red, but proud of myself for not giving in to texting him. His texts telling me how he missed me didn't help, either. Go away, Red! This isn't right. This isn't right. I need to fuck something. Days later, I finally gave in to Justin's constant pleas to hang out. Not only did we experience the brief bout of "issues", but once he did get on track, I still wasn't feeling it. He even ate my pussy for the very first time. He was better off not doing it, because he has absolutely NO clue as to what he's doing, and I think that pissed me off even more. We even went a few rounds, but shockingly, as much as I used to cum for him, I only managed MAYBE 2 nuts the whole night, and those were forced, because I needed some release.
*INSERT WITTY SCRIPT HERE: During Justin's and my "romp", I asked him "you knew what it was going to take to get me back to the way I used to be with you, huh? You figure, you put this dick on me, and you can get whatever you want out of me, huh?" His response: "Uh-huh". Fucker.*
So, here I am, dazed and confused yet again. Really, I like Red, but he's just too damned young for me. There's no future in that, and I know it. So why is my head wanting to wrap around some form of that idea? I can't even say it's my heart. Or maybe my heart AND head are both in love with the idea of someone more age appropriate being this way towards me to the point where I'm confusing it with a cradle-rob, and willing to accept that for the time being. It's like a romance novel gone bad. And I'm the lead character.
Arizona is much farther from Suburbia than where Red was in Texas. Maybe now, things can get back to (my version of) normal with me, and even though we may still keep in touch every so often, the feel of him will dissipate sooner than later. I just hope he doesn't come home on a regular basis, because unless either of us is in a relationship, it may spell trouble for me. Notice I just said "for me". I seem to be the only one that has trouble in these instances, which is why I refuse to emotionally committ to anyone. Getting hurt gets old.
Okay, now for the revelation as to my thoughts on pro-creating.
As I said earlier, I may not have alot, but what I do have, I've worked hard for, and I'm proud of. My house, namely the biggest. Currently, my will allows for one of my sisters, "Nikki", and my nephew to inherit everything 50/50 should anything ever happen to me. However, the house would get sold, and anything else would either be given away, or just discarded. I have no doubts that they would have some love for my belongings, but I want someone that will "treasure" what I've left behind. Who better to do that than a genetically-linked person born and raised here? True, I could just adopt, and although I would love that child as if I'd given birth to them, but I'd rather experience the 40 weeks of carriage. To me, that would seem like putting more of a connection to it.
So, as I said in my last post, I threw the bait out as to whom I figured's DNA would mesh well with mine. That would mean being particular, and undergoing Artificial Insemination. After taking their family background, height, and looks into consideration, and if they already have children, their behaviorlism towards those. Undergoing AI also signifies that through attorney drawn papers, the father would have absolutely NO link to the child, other than through sperm donorship. Any and all methods of support and contact would be non-existant, by my choosing, and I would be completely on my own (selfish sounding, I know, but to each their own on those views). I've got enough family of my own to get through. This way would keep any confusion down. At least until the child turns of age and wants to know "where's my daddy?" I've got a great comeback for that already, but I shant share it. Some things, I'm keeping to myself. My list was very small, but I managed to cumber up on a few. As I also said, I got a few positive responses, some that I'm weighing, and others either no response or a negative go. "Why don't you just go about it the 'old fashioned' way?" one might ask. Because then, there would be an attachment, of sorts, to the father, and if I'm sleeping with him, he's more than likely going to find out. I don't want that. Clean-cut. That's that. One response was "yeah, I could do that, but how are you going to make sure I don't wound up paying child support?". My response: it will be in black-and-white. Another response was "(the girlfriend &) I have considered your proposal, and if you want me to be the donor, we 3 need to sit down and discuss this together". My response: I have no problem with that. Another response was "how would you expect me to not want to have anything to do with my own flesh & blood?". My response: thank you, but nevermind. And yet another response was "that sounds good, but why don't you save the money, and I'll donate directly". My response: haha..you wish. I've gotten 1 that said no, and 2 that haven't responded at all. So I'm weighing all of my options at this point. ALL of my options.
I may not have made all of the best of decisions thus far in my 30+ years of life, but some I have made good.
Once again, you know more will come about that I'll be telling you. Until the next time I dry your eyes out from excessive reading.....
No comments:
Post a Comment