Dating

A Breakup Text

“I’m never having sex with anyone ever again.”

This was the text I received from one of my lovers letting me know that he was ending our relationship. There was no preface. This was it. He was never having sex again. I was going to be his last partner—ever—even though he was only in his forties.

I have to admit, I was initially a little (ok, a lot) taken back. Like many people, my instinct was to blame myself for what was happening. Was I really so bad of a lover that he would never want to have sex again? I reflected on our relationship. I thought the sex we had was amazing. I couldn’t imagine it wasn’t at least decent for him. He seemed to enjoy it at the time, anyway.

The more I thought about it, I realized that this decision of his had nothing to do with me or the sex we had shared. What it actually was rooted in was his own personal problems. He was suffering from a challenge to his mental health, and the way it was manifesting was by shutting me and all other women out of his future.

I sent as gentle of a reply as I could despite my personal emotional pain: I told him that I was sorry the sex was that horrible for him because it wasn’t for me. He was able to respond to me that the sex wasn’t bad, and gradually the full story behind his decision came out. The reasons behind his decision were logical, though it’s still not the choice I think I would have made in the same situation.

In certain ways, he was one of the best lovers I’ve ever had, but right now, he can’t be with me or any woman. I hope that one day he is able to work through the issues he’s currently struggling with because him remaining celibate for the rest of his life is a true loss for both him and his potential future lovers.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

The Written Word

One of the things I find really fascinating is that I haven’t seen the handwriting of any of the men that I have dated since my divorce. Not one of them. I’ve received numerous texts and emails from lovers, but not one of them has ever sent me a card or given me a handwritten love note. It’s really not that odd of a thing: in our modern world, most communication is done through digital means.

To me, this phenomenon seems stranger, though, because I haven’t seen any other random samples of their handwriting like grocery lists or notes to themselves lying around their houses. Perhaps that’s because many people rely on digital apps on their phones to take care of these items, though I still use good old paper and pen for them.

I’ve actually never seen any of them write a check because we rarely do that now, too, in favor of credit and debit cards. Even when guys are signing credit card receipts, I haven’t seen their signatures because our culture dictates that we don’t look at what other people are putting for tips on their receipts so we avert our eyes while others are paying.

To me, it feels like I’ve missed so much about my partners just because of this one simple thing: I’ve never seen their handwriting. I’ve seen their cocks. I’ve seen their naked bodies. Some of them have even let me see their souls. But not one of them has shown me their handwriting.

It’s an odd world we live in.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

Fluid Bonding

In the kink and polyamorous communities, there is a phenomenon known as “fluid bonding” that is held in high esteem. “Fluid bonding” is when a couple chooses not use any kind of barriers during sex and allow fluids to co-mingle. This is a sign of closeness and indicates that the couple is willing to share anything, including any possible STIs they might have.

I’ve found that fluid bonding is put on a very tall pedestal in the kink community and from what I can tell in polyamorous communities as well. It’s the biggest sign that one loves one’s partner truly, deeply, and unconditionally.

Contrary to this esteemed pedestal, I’m going to give what probably is an unpopular opinion: most couples are fluid bonded. Think about it. When you French kiss a partner, you are exchanging saliva which is a bodily fluid, one that can carry bacteria and viruses including HSV1 and 2. When a man fondles a woman’s genitals, he touches her arousal fluid and sometimes licks it off of his own fingers or makes her lick it off of his fingers and then kisses her. If a couple has sex while a woman is menstruating, even if they use a condom, it’s likely he will end up with some of her menstrual blood on his hands, legs, and abdomen. Depending on how much arousal fluid she produces, a man is also likely to end up with that all over his genital region as well.

What’s more, it’s rare for partners to use protection for oral sex from what I have experienced and heard from friends’ sex stories. I have never had a dental dam used on me, and I rarely use condoms for giving fellatio. Men directly ingest arousal fluid when giving cunnilingus. Women ingest precum in giving fellatio. Not one of the men I’ve been with who have been in their forties or fifties hasn’t leaked abundant amounts of pre-cum during our foreplay. I’ve ingested far more of it than I’d like to!

However, none of my partners aside from my ex-husband would consider us fluid bonded. Why? Because they have not ejaculated inside of me without condoms on their cocks. In the kink community, what “fluid bonded” really means is a man ejaculating inside a woman’s vagina (or in some rarer cases, her anus) without using barrier protection. The term “fluid bonding” does not really mean fluid bonding. What it actually is is an unconscious glorification of penis-in-vagina sex. Unless a man dumps his load in a woman’s pussy, they aren’t truly connected, aka fluid bonded.

The problems with this mindset are abundant and ridiculous. It raises the general STI risk as people who aren’t “fluid bonded” can still share STIs. More philosophically, it continues to promote an idea that “real sex” is only sex that involves a penis being inserted inside a vagina, and that’s far from true. Most importantly, it continues to feed the cultural male ego into believing that their semen is a sacred part of sex, and women’s vaginas and relationships as a whole are incomplete without that theoretically amazing jizz. Nothing could be further from the truth.

It would be great if “fluid bonding” was called what it really is: “semen-vagina bonding.” That’s far more accurate, and it lets people know what the true situation is. Furthermore, it doesn’t downplay other relationships which are just as “bonded” but which don’t glorify semen as what makes a relationship deep and true.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

Goodbye Neck Kisses

My neck is one of my most erogenous zones as I have mentioned previously. When a partner kisses my neck, it’s an incredibly sensuous experience. Some partners have learned about this from my blog, and others learn about it when I tell them in bed as we discuss what works for each of us. One partner learned unexpectedly from firsthand experience.

Most of the men I have dated haven’t been romantic types, but there was one who was incredibly romantic. I really enjoyed the experience of dating a man who was so romantic, and I hope to eventually date more. In the case of this particular romantic, our goodbye kiss on the first date turned into thirty minutes of goodnight kisses in the parking lot of the restaurant. What started as a simple beautiful kiss moved into the equivalent of two teenagers unable to control themselves while making out in public. Since we had closed down the restaurant, the parking lot was pretty much empty as we enjoyed each other immensely.

At some point, the kisses my romantic date had been planting on my lips began to wander. His lips found their way to my neck, where after a few kisses he found the sweet spot that really gets to me. As he did, I let out the squealing noise that I make when a partner hits that spot. My date stopped his kisses immediately, concerned that something was wrong because of the odd noise I had made.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired in a worried voice.

“Nothing!” I moaned back. “My neck is just very sensuous. Kissing me there is erotic, and it turns me on.”

“Oh, well, in that case then…” he replied, returning to kissing my neck as he had before making me squirm and moan in his arms some more.

By the end of that date, I was ready to jump into bed with him, but he had been clear before the date that he didn’t have sex on the first few dates. Thus, I had to wait several more dates before I was lucky enough to get to experience the romance of having him in my bed.

However, before we said finally said goodnight on that first date, my romantic man turned me around. He pulled my hair aside and kissed my neck once more. I let out a sigh of pleasure, and he made me a promise: as long as we were dating, he would always kiss my neck when he was giving me goodbye kisses. He kept that promise to me, creating a sweet, romantic, and loving gesture that I looked forward to each time we said goodbye.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

Famous Last Words

Sometimes when I am having sex, despite my lover’s efforts, I know I’m just not going to cum. When I get that feeling, I’ve always let my partner know that my body is just not responding so he should do whatever would work best for him at that point. Occasionally when my partners have shifted to do something different that works better for them, I actually end up cumming with them. Several of my past partners loved to give me (not literal) shit when this happened. “I’m not going to cum” are my famous last words that often get me laughed at by partners.

However, one of my partners reacted very differently than others when hearing me pronounce these words for the first time. His head was between my legs and his tongue was caressing my clit when I told him, “I’m not going to cum, so you should do something else that works for you.” He lifted his head, gave me an unforgettable look, and said, “Oh, you’re not going to cum are you? Challenge accepted!”

With that, he dove back into my pussy with renewed vigor. He changed up what his tongue was doing, and a minute later, I was orgasming. After I finished, he cuddled next to me with an evil grin on his face. “Not going to cum, huh?” he rhetorically said to me.

“Ok, you win that one,” I replied sheepishly.

“You sounded pretty happy to let me win, too,” he retorted.

“Yes, I definitely was. You can be right like that any time you want,” I responded, kissing him with gratitude.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

A Strange Question

I’m not the type of gal who usually goes out bar hopping and picks up a man for a hookup. It’s just not my style; I have no judgment against those who enjoy doing it that way, though.  However, I have had a few casual encounters that developed out of online messaging. I’m always safe about it, meeting in a public place first and making sure I feel safe with the man in question. I’ve encountered many questionable men who’ve given me the creeps through messaging, and I don’t even bother meeting up with them. There have been a few I’ve declined to go further with after meeting in public. I trust my instincts about which men are worth my time and which aren’t.

On one occasion after meeting up in public with a man I met through FetLife, we headed back to my place to hookup (for what was the first of many times in what developed into an actual relationship). After several incredibly passionate rounds of kinky sex, we were cuddled up talking and recuperating for the next round. At that point, I said to him, “Can I ask you a strange question?”

He looked at me inquisitively and said, “Sure, I guess.”

I looked him in the eye and asked, “What’s your last name?”

He started laughing hysterically. I was confused by his laughter, so I asked, “Is it really that funny of a question?”

“I just fucked you in all three holes and NOW you want to know my last name?” he managed to say through his laughter.

“Yes?” I meekly replied. “Is it too much to ask?”

He responded, “No, it’s just that I know you’re not the type of woman who goes to bars and does random hookups, so the question is striking me as really funny.”

“Ok,” I said, still a bit puzzled at his amusement.

“Besides,” he replied, “That’s not a strange question. ‘Will you fuck me with a unicorn dildo?’ is a strange question.”

“They make unicorn dildos?” I asked, completely sidetracked by my lover’s rhetorical question.

“Yes, I’ve seen them on FetLife,” he informed me.

“Oh,” I said. “I don’t really want you to fuck me with a unicorn dildo.”

“Well, if you did,” he let me know, “I’d be willing.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But I really just want to know your last name.”

He laughed again. “It’s [redacted.]”

“Thank you,” I replied.

“You’re welcome,” he said, giving me a kiss as well. “And thank you for what is turning out to be a wonderful night.”

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com

If the Glove Doesn’t Fit…

One of the problems with sex education in our nation and our culture is that it is very negative. Everything is viewed from a worst-case scenario. Don’t have sex or you’ll get pregnant. Don’t have sex or you’ll get an STI. Don’t have sex before marriage or you’ll go to Hell. Don’t have sex or you’ll be a slut. Don’t have sex before marriage because you’ll become “damaged goods.” All of these negative messages become ingrained in our subconscious brains in ways that we don’t always realize.

One of the messages that many of us women heard when we were younger was never to believe a guy when he said he was too big for regular condoms. We were told that 99.9% of men will fit in a standard condom. We were told condoms stretch to fit and so there was no need for larger ones for the vast majority of men. We were told that a guy bragging he needed extra-large condoms was probably him trying to seem more manly in a society that has a distorted idea that penis size is related to manliness. We are warned that if he insisted on using Magnums, we should refuse because they would fall off and we would end up pregnant. Or worse yet, if he insisted he was too big for regular condoms, then he would try to have unprotected sex with us and we would end up both pregnant and with STIs.

Most condom size articles focus on length, and if that is the measure of using regular versus extra-large condoms, I have yet to have a sex with a man who couldn’t use a regular condom. None of my partners have been too long for a regular condom. However, what most articles don’t talk about is girth. This is where I’ve encountered major issues with condom sizing and partners.

In one of my earliest dating experiences, I encountered a penis which was average length but wider than average girth. I knew he looked wider than other partners I’d had, but he didn’t say anything to me about his girth. We enjoyed some wonderful foreplay together, and then the moment to put the condom on arrived.

I couldn’t do it.

I felt like a complete idiot. I thought maybe I had the condom backward and was trying to unfurl it the wrong way, something that seems to happen to me more often than it should. I unrolled it a bit to verify I was going in the right direction, and I tried again. I failed. I could not get the condom on him.

Thinking I was the most sexually inept person ever, I looked up at my partner and asked him to help me. It turned out he hadn’t used condoms with his two previous partners because in one case they had both been virgins and in the other they both had negative testing and decided against condoms. Thus, he wasn’t skilled in putting a condom on himself either. He tried and failed. By that point, the mood had died completely, and understandably, so had his erection. We resorted to cuddling and conversation, both disappointed we hadn’t been able to do more.

When I was thinking about the whole failure the next day, it suddenly dawned on me: what if this guy was one of the few who actually needed a wider condom? He certainly didn’t need the length, but there was no way to get the condom to roll down over his penis. Perhaps the condom was too small? Perhaps condoms don’t stretch as easily as we had been told?

Thinking maybe I had found the key to the problem, I went out and bought Magnums in anticipation of our next sexy time. I didn’t tell him I had done this. I was pretty sure he wasn’t bothering to look at the labels of what we were using. When the mood hit, this time I opened one of the Magnums and approached his penis with hopefulness. Sure enough, the condom fit snugly and comfortably. It rolled down without a fight. I had found the solution to our problem! My guy was just too wide for a regular condom. We went forward with desired activities with much more success this time.

Afterward, I let him know that I had been able to get the condom on this time because it was an extra-large one. He was genuinely and pleasantly surprised. He didn’t realize his girth was larger than most men’s because like most heterosexual men, he hadn’t spent much time looking at other guys’ cocks and because he hadn’t had many experienced previous partners.

I wonder how many people encounter this situation: not knowing when their partner really, truly does need an extra-large condom. One size really does not fit all when it comes to condoms, and not all men are bragging or lying when they say they are too big for regular condoms. In the subsequent years, I partnered another man who was also wider than average. This partner knew ahead of time that his girth was too large for a regular condom having gone through a similar experience to mine earlier in his sexual career. When I saw his cock, I knew he wasn’t lying. There was no way he would have fit in a regular condom. Fortunately, we were prepared with Skyns (due to latex allergies) which made for a wonderful evening.

Perhaps instead of telling people that most men don’t need extra-large condoms, we could start educating people about when a condom is or isn’t fitting right. Just rolling a condom over a banana as a demo isn’t enough. People need to try rolling a regular condom over a soda can (or wide bottle) to understand that not all condoms fit on all penises. It would be great for our society to have sex-positive education about condom and penis sizes.

©2018 WoodLeatherLace.com