Dating

Standing at the Intersection

(This is a random memory of a past lover. His name has been changed to protect his identity though he certainly isn’t innocent!)

I had just begun dating a new lover. We had only been out a few times, and we’d always ended up back at my place due to logistics. When an opportunity popped up for me to go over to his place for the evening, we decided to take advantage of it. He had only told me the largest intersection he lived near; he hadn’t given me an exact address yet because I hadn’t needed it.

As we texted in preparing for the date, I asked him if I could get the exact address where he lived. I told him that I could go to the big intersection near his house and stand there and call out, “Hey! Does anyone know where Mark lives? I want to go over to his place so he can fuck me in the ass.” However, I was convinced that I would suddenly meet a lot of guys named “Mark” at that point.

My lover agreed that not only would I meet a lot of men named Mark, but in his neighborhood, I would meet a lot of men named Marcos, too!

Thankfully, he gave me his exact address so I didn’t have to go stand in the intersection looking for him. I found his place easily, and he did an excellent job of fucking me in the ass. I’m guessing people at that nearby intersection probably got to hear my screams of pleasure when he did! 🙂

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Spanking Survey, Part 5

(I swear this is going to be at least a ten part series at this rate.)

This post is a continuing series of spanking survey questions about my childhood. Part one starts here, part two is here, part three is here, and part four is here.

Did you play spanking games with friends? Only with one when I was about 9. We were playing house and I gave her a bare bottom spanking. It was a game we only played twice.

I also played house and gave bare bottom spankings with two families/three kids whom I babysat. I was 11-12 at the time, and they were 5, 7 and 8. I only played once with the one kid and once or twice with the others.

What’s fascinating to me is that I was always the spanker in these games even though I am very much a sub now and have never spanked an adult. I think at that time while I was a budding spanko, I wanted to be the spanker to regain some of the control I didn’t have in my own life. Instead of being the victim of the spankings, I got to be the one who controlled and administered them.

Were your friends spanked as teens? I only know for certain one college friend who was spanked as a teen and who knew she would continue to be spanked as a college student when she went home if she didn’t follow her parents’ rules. She was from rural Texas, and her family used a belt. The way I found out was a conversation in which we were talking about something completely irrelevant to spanking, but she commented, “If I had done that, my dad would have nailed my butt to the wall.” Her eyes teared up as she said it. Clearly her beltings were painful experiences.

I have a high school friend whom all of us very much suspect was spanked as a teen. Her parents were emotionally abusive, and I know her mother slapped her fairly often. I assume her alcoholic father did more. What’s worse is that she now abuses her young children, spanking them for anything and everything “because that’s how I was raised.”

I have another high school friend whom I suspect was spanked but she never discussed it. Her parents were immigrants from the Philippines. When she would sit some days, it was a very delicate maneuver. I think I may have been the only one who noticed, though.

Did you talk about spanking with your friends? Yes, infrequently, though I was always very interested in the conversation when it happened. I was reluctant to share details of my spankings, though. Almost all kids of the 1970s and 1980s were spanked. I only know of one friend who was never spanked by her parents; she is the exception to the rule. It was just presumed you were spanked and your friends were spanked. I don’t have any idea how old most of my friends were when their spankings stopped.

I remember numerous conversations with peers. The first conversation I remember having was in grade school with two boys who were the same age as me when we were about 6. We were sitting in our front yard talking. We all admitted to being spanked, and the boys went into greater detail about theirs. I don’t remember much of what was said. Both boys agreed the belt was the worst; one said that the buckle end of the belt was brutal. I have no idea if his dad had actually already used a belt buckle on him or if he was just talking about what he’d seen his older brothers get but was bragging about it like it was him. Up until that point, I had no idea people could get spankings with belts.

I remember one neighborhood friend asking me if I was spanked. I think she had been recently spanked with a hairbrush and that was why she was asking. We were probably in second grade or about 7 years old.

The next memory I have of discussing spanking was in middle school. One of my friends was describing with great animation an incident that had happened in her family the day before. Her younger half-brother had walked in the door crying and with a torn shirt. When she asked what had happened, her mother related the tale of his poor tail. She said that he smarted off to her mother while they were driving home, so his mother pulled over to give him a spanking. As she went to grab him from the middle row of seats in the station wagon, he jumped into the back. Her mother had managed to get part of his shirt which ripped. She then opened the trunk of the station wagon, managed to grab him, and gave him a really hard bare bottom spanking for his original disobedience and trying to avoid his spanking.

In high school, I know the group of girls I hung out with had a discussion about being spanked as a child. It didn’t include discussions of who was still being spanked. The only thing I really remember from the discussion was the one friend revealing that she had never been spanked—not even once. I’ve since learned that her mother is very emotionally abusive, though. After this discussion, the one girl in the group who was abused through high school would declare any time that she didn’t like what the unspanked friend had done that the unspanked friend was a brat and should have been spanked as a child.

Once when I was at a friend’s house during high school, the mail came. In the mail was the mid-semester failure notice the school sent out when a student was in danger of not passing a class. The friend’s mother was very angry and made a show of going in her husband’s office and placing the letter there. My friend was begging her mother not to tell her stepfather, but her mother said she had to. Based on the tears in my friend’s eyes, I knew there were going to be serious repercussions. I asked her if she was going to be ok. She choked on her tears and said, “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” but I got the distinct feeling she was going to be spanked before she was fine!

Another time in high school, a male friend was boasting about how his parents were having to spank his brother every single day lately because of his behavior. His brother was in middle school and was rebelling a lot. The way his parents were handling the situation made me very uncomfortable even then. That brother ended up having major drug issues as an adult.

During high school, a close friend and I were talking about spankings. She said she especially hated those with the hairbrush—those were the worst. Years later, I saw a discussion between her and her siblings on Facebook. It seems that only the older kids were spanked with the hairbrush. The youngest said he always jokes that his parents wore out the hairbrush on his older siblings which is why he never got it.

In college, I remember being at my roommate’s house. She mentioned that her father would spank her as a child for not eating what her mother made for dinner because her father considered it disrespect towards her mother. You know those awful 1970s recipes that circulate the web? The things her mother made for dinner were even worse than that. I understood why she chose the spankings sometimes after hearing about some of the dishes her mom made!

Another time the same roommate told me about a joke she told at the dinner table. Her father didn’t find the joke funny and decided to spank her then and there. She tried to get away and failed. With tears in her eyes, she said, “He really tore up my butt that time.” It seemed like her father was a brutal spanker and was willing to find reasons to spank.

The first person I talked to who had been spanked in school was a college friend. I was shocked to learn that spanking was allowed in her schools because it never had been in mine. She told me that in grade school they called it “getting licks.” I forget exactly what she had done in kindergarten, but I think it was talking when she wasn’t supposed to. Her teacher put her over her lap while they were sitting on the floor in a circle, lifted her skirt, and gave her a few “licks” over her panties with a small paddle. The friend said she was horribly humiliated by the whole thing and never did anything to get spanked again in school as a result.

When I was in college, the discussion about spanking as discipline came up in a class for future teachers. Looking back, the professor must have been a spanko though her official position was that she could not condone spanking as discipline in the schools. She let the conversation derail the entire class. The look on her face during the discussion is one I now recognize as someone trying to mask arousal. The class was divided about 50-50 as to whether or not spanking should be allowed in the schools. There was also some discussion about parents spanking kids. The only specific comment I remember was from one guy who said, “The only choice my kids are going to get around discipline is which belt they want me to use on them when I sent to them to fetch one.”

My ex-husband and I actually only had one conversation about his childhood spankings. He said his mother would give him a warning, and then if he didn’t comply, she would let him know he was getting a spanking. She would pull down his pants and give him a few swats on his bare bottom. He said nothing about his siblings’ spankings. His dad never spanked him, and I later learned his dad’s mom never spanked his dad. I don’t know about his dad’s dad. I’m certain his mom was spanked by both of her parents but it was never discussed.

Another guy I briefly dated was babysat by his grandma during summer vacations while his mom worked. He said that if he and his brother acted up, she would tell them to go pick a switch. He said he and his brother would just go outside and make a run for it. By the time they came back later that day, she would have cooled off, so they rarely actually got switched by her. He considered her to be a very mean woman, though.

Surprisingly, I haven’t discussed childhood spankings with any of the other men I’ve dated, probably because I wasn’t willing to discuss mine in detail.

One day when I was on a lunch break at work, one of my coworkers began talking about her 2 year old son. She also had a 5 year old daughter who wasn’t the handful her son was. She was saying how when her son woke up from his nap one day that week, he started coloring on the wall in his room with crayons so she gave him a bare bottom spanking. He did it again a second time on another day that week, so she gave him a harder bare bottom spanking. She said, “I am not abusing him, but I can see how parents could escalate to abuse because he’s not learning from the spankings.” Even at that time I was wondering why she didn’t just take the crayons away to stop him from coloring on the walls. However, since I didn’t have children so I didn’t feel qualified to give advice and because I was younger than her, I just kept my mouth shut.

My first exposure to Domestic Discipline relationships (though I didn’t know the name at that point) was when a friend and I went shopping as childless married young adults. We had walked around the mall, mainly enjoying each other’s company and not buying anything because we didn’t find anything we needed. As we walked out the door of the mall, she said, to me in a very worried voice, “My husband is going to spank me. I was supposed to buy something for myself and I didn’t.” I asked her if she wanted to go back in and look for something for herself since we didn’t have any kind of time restrictions, and she said no, but he was going to spank her for it. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t just go back in and buy something since it sounded like she didn’t want the spanking. Later, I was at the same friend’s house for dinner (without my husband) when she tried a new recipe that her husband didn’t like. He gave her a very damning look; her response that made me think she was going to be punished for it after I left.

When we were reminiscing as adults, one friend talked about how a boy at school had called her by a racial slur. This girl told her mother who told her father. Her father was the boy’s father’s boss! So her father went over to the boy’s house and spoke to his father. The friend said the boy’s father “beat his ass good” in front of her father.

Once we had kids, one of the things that happened was our friend set changed because of differences in how we raised our kids. We all naturally gravitated towards others who parented more similar to our own styles, and that included beliefs about spanking. Before we stopped hanging out with some of our pro-spanking friends, though, there were a few conversations about spanking. The one friend and her husband started out as anti-spanking but changed their minds when their daughter was about four. She told me at that point that her greatest regret was that they hadn’t started spanking sooner and more often.

Another friend seemed anti-spanking, but her husband was not, and so she deferred to him about spankings. However, she said, “It’s just best if I’m not around when he discipline’s the kids.” One day her husband was boasting about having spanked their three year old son for having thrown a ball in the house which hit a glass object but didn’t break it. His words were, “I popped that kid so fast he didn’t see it coming.”

Spanking sometimes came up on mothering listservs I was on, too. Most of the crowds I hung out with were pretty anti-spanking, but there were always a few vocal spankers. The one mother had almost enough kids to make a baseball team. She said that she used a small paddle which she kept on the kitchen counter and didn’t hesitate to use it. According to her, all she had to do was take a step toward the paddle and her misbehaving child would immediately comply without her having to say a word. She said that she spanked them often as younger children and didn’t have to at all once they were older as a result.

Another mother discussed a spanking of her child that made me really sad for that child. The child has intellectual disabilities, and so I never felt like the way they parented him was appropriate for the abilities he had. This child had hit his baby brother at one point, and so his father “punished him in a way that made sure he would never do that again.” I have no idea what actually happened to the boy, but I’m sure it involved corporal punishment.

One other mother discussed how she had started spanking her son at age 8 because she couldn’t handle his intellectual disabilities anymore. She realized how wrong what she was doing, so she got herself into therapy to help her find ways to work with her son’s limitations without spanking.

In another discussion I saw on Facebook, I saw a friend’s sister talking about how she was never spanked because she was such an angel (wink, wink), but she remembers a time when it seemed like two of her brothers were getting spanked almost daily because of their bad behavior.

And finally, not that long ago, a receptionist at my doctor’s office was talking about how her six year old son liked to pee in the shower rather than the toilet (not when taking a shower). She hated it because it made the bathroom smell because he didn’t rinse the shower afterward. She said that the day before she didn’t hear the toilet flush after he’d been in the bathroom, so she asked, “Did you pee in the shower without rinsing it or am I going to have to spank you again?” She said he didn’t answer but went running off to the bathroom where she heard the shower water running. She thought it was really funny. Me, not so much.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Reviews of Dating Sites

I have been asked about the various dating sites I’ve been on in the past. I’m reviewing them in relative order of usefulness. I was looking for a man who was around 35-55, intelligent (which has included the range from GED to PhD), liberal, kinky, monogamous and a switch/dominant. I don’t match well with highly religious people either. Race, size, appearance– all of those are irrelevant to me.

Fetlife.com: Fetlife says over and over again that it’s not a dating site, yet a very large percentage of people on Fetlife are looking for sexual partners, either short-term or long-term. Fetlife was one of the most productive places for me when I was looking for partners. There are still some horribly slimy, nasty men on there, but I also found quite a few really nice guys. The friend who convinced me to join told me I would find more fat-accepting men on there. Yes and no. There was definitely a lot more acceptance about people being different, but there was still outright fat prejudice on there. Almost all of Fetlife can be used for free which is a major bonus. Most major cities have personals boards (or sometimes multiple boards) to post ads looking for a partner.

AdultFriendFinder.com: Yes, really! I had billing issues with them, so they lose major points for that, but as a woman, AFF was a goldmine. I’ve seen the ratio estimated as 12:1 or 16:1 men:women depending on the market you’re in. I definitely found that to be true. Men are so used to spambots on there that they are shocked when they find a real live woman who isn’t charging for sex. I found some sizeist men on there, but most of the men were so desperate for sex they didn’t care about body size. They were also willing to compromise on things that guys on other sites weren’t open to compromising on. I actually found some great men on there. One downside is that half the men use a dick pic for their profile picture which gets really old really fast. There is a filter to allow you to block some or all nudity, though, something I actually did because I got so tired of seeing dick pics everytime I logged in. If you want to message with someone, you really do need to upgrade to their paid plan, and then they start with annoying pop-ups to get you to renew beginning the day after you joined!

OkCupid.com: This is the most popular mainstream dating site in my area. I talked with a lot of men on OKC, but more often than not, I ran into fat prejudice among those local men I talked to. Men who were in other parts of the country were often less prejudiced, though I certainly encountered prejudice anywhere I looked. Every single man I dated over the past few years had an active profile on OKC whether I met him on that site or not. I have very mixed feelings about OKC because it really is the lifeblood of online dating in my area, but I also had less success here than other places. There are also a lot of really awful guys here because it’s possible to use all the important features of the site without paying, but I found as a woman I liked having some of its features to block out some of the crap on the site. The majority of my dating bloopers came from OKC because so many of the men were of low quality.

DatingKinky.com: This was a newcomer to the online dating market in the past year, looking to fulfill the needs that Fetlife didn’t quite meet. It was dealing with growing pains from being so new. The owner of the site was very receptive to talking to members, and she was working hard on upgrades. However, I ran out of patience with men who were less than desirable. The local market was very limited, and I was tired of seeing the picture of one of my exes since I couldn’t hide his picture at that time (though they were working on adding that feature). The paid version wasn’t in existence yet, but the trial version of the paid version didn’t really add enough filters to the messaging that I wanted. I got tired of 18 year olds from Nebraska wanting to sext with me!

Match.com: If  you talk about the struggles of online dating in the modern era with a married person, they will without doubt ask if you’ve tried Match. At that point, I ask A) if they’ve tried Match and B) what year it was when they tried Match? Most of them say they’ve never been on it, but they’ve heard it’s a great dating site and their third cousin twice removed found her husband on Match about ten years ago. Match may have once been the leader in online dating, and it may still be great in some markets, but in my area, Match is dead. You have to pay to use the site’s messaging features. However, men do not message on Match as demonstrated by the fact that I had absolutely zero men message me on Match in six months. I messaged men and got very few results. I never got past one or two messages with any particular man. Half of the men on Match are also on OKC. The financial requirement to message means that most of the men are more career-oriented men, and that removes some of the scuzziness of other sites. However, for me, Match was a huge waste of money.

Chemistry.com: This is a sister site of Match.com. I hated it with a passion. I think it was designed for cell phones, and I was using it on a desktop. It seemed like it was structured around random algorithms and hookups. Most of the men seemed to be much younger. I felt like the old fogy who didn’t belong, and I quickly got off of it.

Conscious Dating Network: The Conscious Dating Network is a group of sites which all share the same database. Most of the sites are all aimed at the more natural living, liberal leaning, spiritual but not religious people. The sites in the network include Spiritual Singles, Planet Earth Singles, Natural Awakenings Singles, and many more. However, some of the sites have nothing to do with those qualities. People can buy a site using their own web domain, and by giving the Conscious Dating Network part of their profits, they share the database, thus being able to increase the numbers on their niche dating market. It’s a model I’m not fond of, but I see why it makes sense from a money and marketing point of view. Unfortunately, one of the sites in the network was one in India, so I would get messages from a lot of men in India who had no intention of moving to the US (and I am not moving to India). As with many of the other smaller sites, most of these men were on OKCupid, and many I already knew in real life. Many were looking for tantric flings or polyamorous lovers. There were a lot of very big egos on the site. They weren’t my type.

eHarmony.com: Um, yeah. This name will come up, but it’s one I avoided. eHarmony has a screening process to become a member of their site. Anyone I knew who is similar to me who had applied had been rejected because they weren’t mainstream enough, normal enough or good enough looking. I decided I didn’t need rejection from a dating site on top of rejection from men on dating sites. Besides, I wasn’t interested in eHarmony’s process of matching people up rather than letting people have access to their whole database. There’s something that chemistry determines that a database can never calculate. I skipped this site completely.

POF.com: <<<shudder>>> This is one of the grosser dating sites for the local area. Because one can use it without paying, the population leans toward the lowest common denominator. I was totally unimpressed by the men of this site. Dysfunctional seems to be a polite word to sum them up.

DharmaMatch.com: This is a very minor site and I wouldn’t mention it at all except I want to put my opinion out there since I couldn’t find many honest reviews about it when I Googled. This site is a zombie. It’s alive but it’s very much dead. The code works. You can register. You can pay. But no one checks it out. In a full month on the site, not one single person checked out my profile. I made the mistake of paying $20 for a one month subscription (which I canceled immediately so there would be no further autobilling) to message the one guy out of 15 local guys who had a lot in common with me. He never checked his messages or even logged on in that month because there are no push notifications for this site. I messaged the help link on the site to ask about the lack of inactivity and I never heard back. Don’t waste your time or money with this one.

Tinder.com: Ha! Did I mention I was fat and ugly? I wasn’t looking for a one night stand, either. I knew that on a site where appearance is everything that I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. This is one site I never ventured onto.

BBWPersonalsPlus: Given that I knew I wasn’t going to find a man on Tinder, I decided to try a site for men who liked plus-sized women. I lasted only a few days on this site. Unfortunately, the majority of men who like plus-sized men tend to be less literate and less educated than the population of men I am attracted to. After way too many messages that seemed as though the users had never taken a spelling or grammar class, I ran for the hills.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

The Ugly Duckling

I finally came up with a way to better describe how I feel about myself, my appearance, and my dating world.

I live in a town full of ducks. They don’t all look alike, but there are very prominent themes among the ducks who rule the town. They wear skinny jeans. They grow man-buns. They wear yoga pants with flip-flops for formal occasions. The women curl and style their hair for hours only to put it up in ponytail after all the work. They dye their hair popular colors.  They starve themselves rather than gain any weight. They run or lift weights even to the point of repeatedly injuring themselves. They obsess over physical appearance.

These ducks don’t accept themselves as they are, and because they don’t accept themselves, they don’t accept others either. Unless one puts on a facade that meets the local cultural standards of beauty, one can’t be a duck.

I’m not a duck. I’m swimming in the same waters as the ducks, but I am not a duck. They may see me as the ugly duckling, but I  am a swan. I like who I am. I don’t want to change to make the rest of the ducks happy. I am me, and I’m grateful to be me. I wish others could see me as a swan rather than an ugly duckling, but they just don’t. I can’t change how they see me, either. They don’t want to change. They like their narrow vision of the world.

So how does a swan date in a sea of ducks? The answers is that the swan can’t. The swan can try, but all that happens is that the ducks reject the swan over and over again. They don’t even want to be friends with the swan because the swan doesn’t look like them, talk like them, or act like them.

I look forward to one day living in a world where swans are accepted and seen for their natural beauty. Until then, I will just have to hope that one day a lost swan will wander into town and find me here, alone and being a swan by myself.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Facing the Brutal Truth

Like all anonymous blogs, I only have to disclose what I want on this blog. Some of it is fiction. Most of it is very real.

One of the things that I have not discussed to date but which I have to write about now is my physical appearance.  According to the men in the community I live in, I am both fat and ugly. In their eyes, this makes me undateable. This is the true reason I don’t put face pictures up on my dating profiles.  I learned very quickly that if I had face pictures up, men would not respond to my messages. If I didn’t have face pictures up, I could at least get men to talk to me to help chase away my loneliness. Once they saw face pictures, most men ran like they were on fire. They didn’t even make polite excuses before ghosting me.

All of the men I have dated since my divorce can be categorized pretty easily: Most were mentally ill. Many were social alcoholics. One was a drug addict who was currently not using but was planning to restart as soon as he could legally risk it. Half were unemployed. And then there were the three who lied to me about being in long-term romantic relationships with others. The very few men who actually went out with me were not husband material because they were so fucked up in various ways.

The common theme of these men was that they saw me, a highly educated and professional woman who owns a house, a car, and a business, as too ugly to date but not too ugly to fuck. Besides, if it was just cybersex, what I looked like didn’t matter. They could fantasize I was anyone.

Even though some of them had some of the best sex of their lives with me, they still couldn’t see past their dicks. I wasn’t pretty enough to be a trophy wife, so that meant I wasn’t good enough for them despite their multitude of flaws. What the common theme with all of these men was that they were using me for sex until they could find something better. There were no illusions on my part about it, at least with the men who were single. With the men who were partnered, there was a lot of pain and grief on my part when I found out the truth.

I recently met a man who was one of the kindest, most compassionate, most loving men I have ever been lucky enough to encounter. I felt things for him that I’ve felt for no other human I’ve ever met. When his divorce was final, I would have loved to have dated him, but I also knew I wasn’t what he was looking for. I knew that I was likely going to be stuck in the friend zone with him for eternity. Despite that, feelings grew for him. He did a few things that I misinterpreted. And when I confessed my growing feelings for him, he was repulsed. He not only ran in horror, but he told me that he found me physically unattractive. If a man who is as wonderful as him can’t see past my physical qualities, then I truly must be ugly. It’s time to face the brutal truth.

Based on that, I’ve finally had to accept that I’m not going to find a man who can see past my ugly face and my large waistline. If I want to retain any shred of self-respect and self-esteem, I have to quit trying to date. Being told over and over, whether implicitly or explicitly, that I’m unattractive, that I’m undesirable, that I’m ugly… that isn’t ok. After five years of trying, I’ve lost all ability to fight the fight any longer. I’m done dating. If God sends a nearly-perfect man to my front porch (aside from the UPS guy or the Jehovah’s Witnesses), then yes, I’ll take him. But I’m not looking for him any more. I’m not on any dating sites. I’ve deactivated on Fetlife. I’m not going to any singles groups. I’m done.

I really wish I could find a gay bone in my body so I could date a woman. Alas, that’s just not going to happen.

So from now on, there will be no new dating stories. There will be no new online dating bloopers (although I have one half-finished post from before I closed my last account).  There are some memories I’ve started to type into stories, but I haven’t finished. I’m not sure if I will because those memories just bring pain now even though they were amazing fun when they happened. When I’m lonely and horny, I might type up fantasies. Mostly, though, in the short term, I’m probably going to be decompressing about the abuse I’ve dealt with in my dating experiences. After that… I don’t know. Right now, the future looks to bleak to face.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

 

One Year

Yesterday was one year since we met in person for the first time. Tomorrow is one year since we first had sex. I am certain you don’t remember the dates; you’re not that kind of guy.

Ours was meant to be a casual relationship. It was supposed to be about sex and not much else. That quickly changed. By the third sex date, I had told you that I really liked you, and you nodded back yes, holding back tears, so choked up you couldn’t speak. By the fourth date, you accidentally called me by the nickname you used for your ex-wife.

You weren’t what I expected. You were physically beautiful. Your face was so sexy, and your body was well-sculpted. Your strong hands on my supple body felt so amazing. I couldn’t figure out why a man who looked like you would be willing to have sex with me, though it quickly became clear that you had mental health challenges, ones that impacted your life severely.

Yet underneath those mental health issues was one of the most sensitive, loving men I’ve ever met. You are tender and caring. You feel so deeply but you don’t want to, so you repress it all. You run from your feelings if they aren’t what your logic tells you that you “should” be feeling.

Even though the sex we had was amazing, you couldn’t look past your fantasies to see me for the dynamic woman that I am. You had a picture in your mind of what your future wife looks like, and that description didn’t line up with me. Hence, you couldn’t let yourself enjoy our relationship for what it was, and you couldn’t appreciate me for whom I am. Instead, you kept insisting on searching frantically for this unicorn you think exists, this perfect woman in mind and body who is going to accept you as you are, flaws and all.

Since I wasn’t perfect and I wasn’t your fantasy, you decided I was good for sex and nothing else. Despite that, you kept trying to change me. Even though I was ok with your issues, you weren’t ok with mine. You created an impossible situation in your mind, one that isn’t even scientifically realistic, and you wanted me to enact it so that I could change to become the woman of your dreams. You couldn’t let it go. You obsessed over this idea of what I should do with my body and my life. I know part of that was your mental illness; your obsession with that idea was rooted in your inability to focus on a broader picture. Still, part of it was you, too, judging me for not doing what you wanted me to do and for not being whom you wanted me to be.

When I couldn’t live with the judgment anymore, I ended it. I cried a lot of tears over you. I had fallen in love with you in the short time we were together. You got mad at me when I told you that I loved you. I told you that you didn’t have to feel it, but you couldn’t stop me from feeling it. That’s not how it works. I loved you. I still do. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the amazing man who lives trapped under a terrible mental illness that he can’t control.

And the sex…. No man before or since has made me cum the way you did. Our sex was beyond amazing. You are going to be the lover whom I compare all others to. You are the one who taught me what my body can do when it’s treated properly. You taught me that sex is the most amazing experience in the world when the right two people are partnered.

I gave you this blog link after we broke up, though I’m not sure if you got the message or if you read it. Even if you did, I’m not sure if you read this blog. But if you read this post, know that I still love you deeply and I always will. You will always hold the place in my heart as the lover who taught me what sex should be like if the chemistry is there. You are the man who showed me what tenderness, respect, and love can combine to be in a D/s relationship. I miss you touching me, kissing me, making me cum over and over again. The memories of what we shared will never leave, and I’m grateful for that because they are some of the most treasured ones I will ever have. While we would never be able to sustain a long-term relationship together and I know that, I will still love you.

Please take care of yourself. I hope you are happy. I hope you are in love. I hope that your world has improved. I often look for you in places where I think I might see you even though I know that I will probably never run into you again. Still, my heart still longs for you.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Online Dating Bloopers 11

Another week, another set of inane messages from clueless men in the dating world.  My patience levels have been lower than usual lately. I will sometimes ignore the men, and sometimes they get a snarky reply.

For those who are not familiar, I only have pictures of my feet and legs on dating sites, not my face. I’m also located in Texas.

Just in case anyone wonders or worries, I change names of men who don’t have common names like Joe or John. If someone named Voltron messaged me, I would alter his name to Victor.

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“How are you” He is 13 years under my age range and is also a submissive. I don’t understand why guys like this message me. I just hit the block button.

“Hi….are both your legs tattooed?” Once again, no, my legs are not tattooed. They’re called pantyhose, guys! This guy is a smoker, so there’s not a chance in hell anyway.

“I’m 39 yrs old im6’5 with a big heart. i am the type of guy who doesnt judge anyone or treat anyone with disrespcet. It doesnt matter what on the outside it the inside that matter to me. I would love to talk to you some more here my number if you like to call me XXX-XXX-XXXX..” This is generic, and it’s from a guy I have little in common with. I also wonder what kind of woman is going to respond to a message like this with a phone number in the first message.

“Hey there sexy girl. How are you?” I often only send the link to this post in response. 

“Do you expect people to ask for your picture?” This guy pushed my buttons, so I responded, “Only the ones who are seriously interested. It filters out a lot of assholes.” And then I hit the block button.

“I like your picture. It definitely captures the moonlight in your eyes.” This guy was local and my age, and this was clearly a sarcastic comment. I just had no interest in him or replying.

“Hello Am ROY Hope am not invaliding your privacy, i Saw your profile on ok cupid, i thought i should contact you I’d like to meet someone looking for the eventual intimacy of a long-term relationship that wants to explore new activities and share some common interests with. You also share yourself easily with the right person and will surprise me with your own unique characteristics and interests. Hope that’s you .I am a well educated , intelligent , passionate man , with a very good sense of humor. I work very hard , but also enjoy times of relaxation, travel , fun ,and activity.” This wasn’t someone local. And there are just so many problems with this. He was clearly spamming women because his account has been deleted.

“Hi look, you owe me 99 cents because your profile melted my heart like a snickers bar in a pocket on a hot summer’s day. Anyway I hope to hear back from you because you look really interesting. Have a nice evening” This was someone not local who was also clearly spamming women. His account has been deleted. As far as corny pickup lines go, this one is a winner.

“Hello how are you doing today ,my name is Ben..” Again, another deleted account.

“Hey there! I’m ken. How are you?” This is someone local and my age, but he hadn’t filled out his profile. A week later, his profile is still mostly empty. He’s counting on his good looks carrying him. No thanks.

“Nice tattoos” He’s from New Jersey, and for the umpteenth time, those are stockings, not tattoos!

“Hi, how are you doing today, you look beautiful and awesome,.” Yet another guy sending a generic spam message because this doesn’t work for my photo of myself. His account has been deleted.

“Well say hi” This is someone who is 1.5 hours away, my age, and in no way a match. I hadn’t checked out his profile, so the comment is weird at best.

“hello how are u” This guy is from Arkansas and is not a good match at all.

“wanna chat sometime my name is randy XXX.XXX.XXXX” He’s three hours away, and no, I’m not going to call a man who sends me his number in the first message. Plus, his profile picture is him holding a fish.

“Tell me secret of you Sal” This man lives in Israel, and his profile is written in Hebrew. Clearly this is a bad translation. Pass.

“Incredible profile, I see you have written erotica, have you ever published any online? You seem pretty open minded so I have a question I have always wanted to ask someone, if 2 people of the same sex exchange oral sex, does that count as a sexual encounter do you think?” He’s from Oklahoma, and I didn’t even bother looking at his profile. I’m never sure if this kind of message is a man trying to jerk my chain, to find someone to have cybersex with, or is someone who is genuinely trying to get info. I send factual information and then hit the block button in response: “Yes, I have an erotic fiction blog. Any two (or more) people of any gender or any sex having oral-genital contact are having sex. The same is true of manual-genital contact, anal-oral contact, anal-genital contact, or manual-anal contact. All have a risk of sharing STIs. For informational reading, I suggest Good Vibrations’ sex ed pages, Good Vibrations’ book, or The Guide to Getting It On (any edition, available on Amazon or elsewhere).”

“Would love to chat sometime young lady. Frank” This was someone local, and he’s in my age range. However, he hasn’t filled out his profile at all. Then there’s the way he messaged me. I sent back the message, “I, like all women, deserve to be approached with respect. You have failed at that. Please read this blog post I have written. You have failed at many of its aspects.” And then I hit the block button.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com