Archive for the ‘Ofcourse he's a jew’ Category

We were sitting at the café table, hot chocolate in front of us, talking about the political culture in Pakistan. My bangs had fallen in my eyes and he reached over and brushed them to the side in slow motion, lingering for a moment. It killed me. Why did I love that simple action so much? For someone almost 6 years younger, he has lived more than I will have ever hoped to. Sierra Leone, Pakistan, Guatemala, and… AND he’s not even 30 yet. Future Lawyer wants to save the world and as I sat across from him this afternoon, listening to him talk about his papers, his opinions, his world, I think he might just be able to. 

My dog and I walked him back to his school after our quick meet up. It wasn’t a date, so much as an excuse to see him mid-week. Fib and say that you have errands in the area anyway, and hope that he can get away from his studies for a few minutes. We had a little over an hour. His dimples are ridiculous. His idealism is endearing and his passion, intoxicating. This man will go far in his life.

Now I am home and feeling a bit under the weather. The last few days have been an environmental rollercoaster of weather phenomena. My body has decided that lack of sleep and the uncharacteristic temperature dips and raises are both unkind and so, it is revolting against me and the world, with a slight fever and light dizziness. I am deciding on going to bed in a half hour so that I can be healthy for the rest of the week. Perhaps 4 dates over 3 days WAS a little intense.

Read Full Post »

I wasn’t looking forward to meeting the dental student for coffee yesterday. I had been but then our chat the night prior was a buzz kill. His age is a huge red flag, being 9 years YOUNGER is not something I am looking to deal with but there have been things he has said on-line that were surprising and not in line with a boy of his age. So, why did I still meet up, even though I wasn’t feeling it? Having been stood up myself, I find it sucks, even last-minute cancellations. One cup of coffee in public won’t hurt someone. Additionally, we had arranged a quid pro quo for the future. He needs a patient for his dental board exams and I need some cavities filled. Having coffee and letting him drill my teeth doesn’t mean I need to fuck him, so I sighed and went through with our meet up.

Briefly, before I talk of our meeting, let me explain why I had reservations about following through. Online, the first chats are generally light, as you get to know people. The 3rd or 4th starts to show signs of more adult conversations, sex and sexuality as a whole. So, we start talking about our sexual leanings and I am a very open-minded person who has tried many things and realized in the end that sometimes a dish of vanilla is good, but that dish should be Madagascar bourbon vanilla bean. On occasion I like to add some coconut, caramel, and sea salt, perhaps some rosemary or citrus zest. Hell, even bacon. But, you can’t go wrong with good old plain hot sexy rich vanilla. So, he states that he ONLY likes rough sex. ONLY. Also, that he never lets a girl top him. Sex games can be great fun, as long as the emphasis is on FUN. If you aren’t doing it out of a mutual desire to enjoy and respect your partner, their body, and their boundaries , then it isn’t fun. Now, I suggested that his need for control might stem from the facts that he is a student without much control over his day-to-day life, his father handles his finances, pays his bills, etc. so perhaps it was the one time he felt he could be in control. He denied this but then later hinted at having been hurt by women in earlier relationships and this resentment being part of why he only has rough sex now, it detaches him. So, his sexual lifestyle is based on showing women what he can do and how in control he is, rather than them. He enjoys spanking and choking during sex as well. I think his style and his reasons are potentially volatile. I worry for him, that if he isn’t able to allow himself to trust and open up to a sexual partner, someone might get hurt. So, with all of this said, he is not in the running for a hot sex partner, but I’ll help him out with the exam and perhaps we will be friends.

When he arrives, I am already sitting in the back room and drinking my coffee. First physical impression, very cute. Adorable in fact. Holy dimples. I find it hard to believe that this cute thing is all about rough grudge fucking. Sad. We talk for an hour and the conversation is great, so good in fact, that I wish I had other info on him. If he was a huge snuggly thing that just liked regular sex, he could be very fun. He texted me later and asked if I had fun with him at our coffee date. I didn’t lie, I did. He’s charming.  But he is too risky.

I ran home, late, walked the dog, fed her, myself and jumped in the shower… late. Then a public transportation delay and late. But sweet goodness, my Future Lawyer who wants to save the world, was also late! Sigh of relief. Sometimes the unpredictability of public transportation is fantastic. We met at a bookstore café and then walked down to a small club listen to some jazz. This place has been in business for nearly 70 years. Great little hole in the wall.

We had four cocktails and great conversation. He’s studying for his bar this year, he is an RA at his university, he likes his parents and respects that I don’t like mine. (Shhh, he’s a Jew too, of course, duh) We eventually kissed and the boy has some great lips. So, we left, and thought about going somewhere else, only to realize that everything closes early in this town anyway. We made out for a while outside but it was freezing, we then decided to walk through the closed mall in an attempt to warm up while we planned out next move. It turned out that our next move involved an hour of making out on a bench in the mall, partially hidden by shrubbery in their faux indoor garden, we were mostly incognito. We hit 2nd base easily and it was fun. THEN, as things were more and more heated, and I leaned back a bit on the bench so he could lean into me, I put us just enough in view, that the security guard walking by saw us. Needless to say we were halted and thrown out of the mall by a mall cop younger than both of us. I would have been humiliated had it not been so damn hot.

We parted ways at the cab stand outside and texted each other a few pleasantries of what a great night it was and how we really enjoyed each other before sleep hit at 3:45 am.

Now, 12 hours later, I am meeting a 37 year old professional photographer for coffee, and running late because of the writing of this post.

Read Full Post »

These dating sites use an algorithmic approach to matching its members. Sometimes it works, some what. Other times it thinks I should date the 5’7 fattie with horseshoe pattern baldness and a desk job at a tech company in some suburban office park. Whooot! Yup, that’s my match alright! Well, last night it matched me with this man who has eyes the color of Australia’s famed Coral Coast and a face full of angles and bones and absolute brilliance. He’s 200 miles away I noticed, so the algorithm failed BUT, I decided that if I could do it for a year with my exfiancé, I could do it for a man whose eyes burn through you.

So, I  IM’d him. For those of you unfamiliar with internet lingo terms, that is Instant Messaged. There was a ten minute delay in his response, I assumed the distance was a turnoff. When he did respond we easily fell into a friendly rapport, that shifted once I asked his first name. I found his name peculiar, so I googled it in hopes of finding a cultural lineage association. When that search turned up nothing, I added his city, NOT ever thinking the first site that wouldappear would be his website. Suddenly I was intimately familiar in a painfully voyeuristic sense, with many aspects of his person, including his cock. Which, upon seeing, might I add, I suddenly clicked back to his profile and looked at his face and sighed. I then asked him, after remembering what he said in his profile, if he is culturally Jewish. He stated he was an atheist and I didn’t assume by his facial features, I didn’t see it UNTIL I saw the picture of his cock. Then I knew. I should just assume that if I find them attractive… probably got some Jew in there somewhere. My track record is Ashkenazic, I do NOT know why. I don’t go forSephardic or the Egyptian or African Jew, it must be Eastern European. Some people are Anglophiles, apparently I am a Judaiophile. What are ya’ gonna do? Sit around and kvetch about it or find some nice Jew schlong? Excellent choice.

I think I need to clarify WHY he has explicit photos of himself posted on-line. Aside from being an exhibitionist (SCORE!) and a voyeur (SCORE x 2!) he is also an established mixed media artist. He works in interactive visual realms such as video, and performance, as well as, creating through painting, writing, and photography. Hence, the nudity with such robust sociocultural statements attached.

Because I had now seen him in his full glory, I felt as if I was being unfair if I didn’t send over some pics of myself.  An eye for an eye, a tit for a cock? So, we began some in-depth chatting of our particular sexual proclivities and predilections. His proclamation of ALWAYS being a top is quite exciting actually. Now, how to get him a few hours closer?

Eventually all things must cum to an end, so we switched to Skype. I brushed my hair as I hadn’t yet taken off my winter hat and was sporting the worst hair EVER and changed out of my grandma sweater. This video call was NOT about me doing anything except watching. (clap clap clap) So, I watched. Oy vey, did I ever. We signed off so we could both get some work done, that we had happily avoided for hours, however I was not incredibly turned on and wanting my own personal happy moment.  I wrote out a fairly descriptive scenario to get my mind working, emailed it to him so I could think of him getting excited reading it, and set sail for my own little journey.

This morning I received an email from him explaining how, between our conversation, the webcam voyeur /exhibitionist play, my pics and my story, he had masturbated no less than 4 times… in under 9 hours. He slept for 6 of those. I felt very proud of myself. I still do. Of course we know that the chances of hot virtual sex ever being nearly that good in person are rare. I am definitely interested in getting to know this one a bit more though. I told him that I would be interested in actually spending time with him, in addition to shtuping him. He seemed to agree, but the afterglow of 4 orgasms might have him confused and easily agreeable.

Now, after a canceled date with a turk, which I will explain next post, and too many shots of espresso, the aggravation of two playful mice that are running around my kitchen and NOT getting caught by either my dog or my traps, and finally, a really hot shower, I am going to go to bed.


Update: I received an email letting me know that in under 24 hours the total number rose to 5.  Almost 6, but he “didn’t have the time to fully commit to it.” I like someone who shows passion and commitment to the things that are really important , don’t you?

Read Full Post »

Two Dark and Stormies in fact. He had Dewar’s on the rocks. Tonight was one of those nights when I had planned to do NOTHING but housework, however,  he caught me in a moment of weakness. He texted asking if I was up for doing something tonight-ish rather than tommorrow-ish, as we had originally planned. Hmm, need shower, walk dog, cold as ass outside…. sure, why not?

We met at a coffee-house at 8. We sat, drank hot caffeinated beverages and chatted. YAWN. It was nice but we needed some alcohol in us. It was clear that we needed some assistance with the barriers. He seemed distracted, yet interested, stand offish, yet attracted. I was unable to read him, so I suggested a cocktail and he seemed all good with that. Still wasn’t sure where he fell on the interest scale, but I thought a couple of drinks would be more telling.  We walked a few blocks to the bar, a small hotel bar known for having good cocktails, specifically one of my favorites, the Dark and Stormy.

The crowd was a weird mix of suburbanites and convention attendees. By the time we had arrived at 9:45, people were already on their way to intoxicated and being rude and pushy. Were it not so cold out, I would have shifted us elsewhere. The heavens looked down upon us shortly though when I noticed two girls get up from a couch and leave. Sitting in the corner of a bar on a small leather couch with an attractive attentive woman is bound to illicit some response from a man if there are cocktails involved, right?

So, we talked about his RECENT ex girlfriend who broke up with him, ending a 4 year relationship over the PHONE while he was getting back from a business trip. My quirky gay thing, which raised a surprised eyebrow from him, but didn’t turn him off. His job in production and how religion plays into his family dynamic. His parents are strict Orthodox Jews from Latin America. He isn’t latin, other than by birth, in fact he looks very Eastern European. If you are familiar, he is Ashkenazi, which is a particularly German looking Jew. I know, I know… there is a Jewish trend in my life. What can I say, he was cute and then happened to be Jewish. His parent’s won’t welcome any girlfriend of his into their home who isn’t Jewish and he doesn’t tend to date Jewish women. Needless to say, this creates problems.

He also is a musician,of course, and a writer, of course, AND has multiple cats…. OF COURSE. Slightly Brooklynesque Hipster looking, not skinny jeans BUT not the traditional baggy legged jean either. It’s clear that his own individual style is AS important to him as an article or accessories function. Eventually we noticed that my train home was going to cease running if we didn’t leave in the next few so we paid our tab and wandered out into the single digit air.

At the corner we realized we were going opposite directions and said our ciaos. We hugged each other goodnight and as we were pulling away, whether it was mutual or my initiation, we had some nice kisses on the street corner. I would say he fared well above average. Definitely worth a second try.

In the train station, a nicely dressed 30 something black man approach me and asked me whether I had just been at a particular bar. I nodded and he went on to tell me, in a very polite and slighty shy manner, that he was working late and had stopped in with a friend, only to leave because the crowd seemed so overrun by, my word, douche bags and that he saw me leave. He said he was struck by how I didn’t look like I belonged there among the crowd, how I seemed intelligent, real, sincere and mischievous and found himself unable to shake my image from his mind after I had left. He isn’t at all what i would have ever approached but he was attractive and quite ballsy to come up to me like that. So, I gave him my email. He deserves it after an approach like that.

Now, after two pieces of toast with honey and peanut butter, I am ready for sleep.

Read Full Post »

















It’s a curious thing, all of this. For 12 years (that’s a long time for those of you unable to quantify exactly how long 12 years is) I have only dated women. I did this not in response to any trauma inflicted upon me by men, in fact I have always thought men were awesome. I did this solely because I had not been attracted to a man in over 12 years. Ugh, that sounds so dismal. It really wasn’t as boring as that. Women turned me on in a way no man ever had. The first time I had a significant make out session with a girl, you know, clearing some bases and all… angels sang and seas parted and I know I at least stepped in water that night (it was raining), even if I didn’t walk on it.

I hung out with a few more boys while I was making my self discovery and then one day I just ceased hanging out with them. There wasn’t any one particular thing that happened. Merely, it was what wasn’t happening.  My toes didn’t curl and butterflies never fluttered. I did fall in love with one boy once but it was the type of love that you get from whiskey, woody allen films and Shane Macgowan songs. That story is for another time.

For the next decade I dated some women. Some were amazing, some less so. I asked one to marry me shortly after 9/11 and lost her, 2 years later,  to a midget with an eating disorder, manic phobias and a substance problem.  While that was a tad bit demoralizing, cause yes, I am hot, I pulled myself back up and went out there again. Some casual fun, like the southern basketball fanatic who, when she came, would scream “oh gawd” in her bayou drawl… and then roll over and turn on ESPN after sex, or the former spoken word poet and sex education teacher turned high femme drag performer. The ivy league half-marathoner with ugly toes and a privileged ivy league background including republican politico parents. The struggling screenwriter whose youthful fun and frisky tone shifted upon living with me. We spent hours upon hours fighting, until eventually, we had hit levels of unhealthy that I hadn’t ever thought I would encounter in my own relationships. A lesson in expectations, I guess. No one is above being at the bottom.

Then my dog got sick and she died. A month later, I was moving out of that apartment and ending my relationship with the writer. I woke up one day, feeling completely numb and realized I just couldn’t do it any longer. I needed a break because I was completely devoid of any sense of well being. I then made, what seemed crazy to many around me, an active rational decision to be celibate and single so I could refocus on myself. For 4 years I did things for myself without consulting, compromising, or considering another individual and it was F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S !!! I learned to drive ( before you think oddly, it is NOT uncommon for people in NYC to not drive. We have the best subway system in the world, so, why drive?!!!), I bought a condo, started two businesses, and rescued an emaciated dog from the back of a pick up truck. I was busy. BUT, I had also become a recluse. I had built walls up and become increasingly uncomfortable with the idea of letting anyone in. Yes, at times I was lonely, BUT, I had control over my existence. I needed that control. It became more important than the companionship. I had the dog and she had me and it was us against the world, only we stayed inside and weren’t really in battle against any great force. We mainly snuggled and watched A LOT of netflix and ate kettle korn or roasted broccoli. (Yes, both of us ate the kettle korn AND the broccoli. She is a funny dog.)

So how did I get from kettle korn to boy hickies? Let’s just condense it by saying that I opened myself up to trying something different because, what I was doing, was really NOT working. Einstein was the one that said,” Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, yet expecting a different result.”  Now, apparently the universe likes to be a mischievous little bitch, because verbalizing my willingness to explore what she wanted to give me, opened up a whole universe wide can of worms.See, that’s how the universe rolls. Suddenly, I was trying to get a foreigner to make out with me, even JUST once, using multiple tried and true female methods, but to no avail (I did mention that I am, in fact, really attractive, right?! So, WTF?!). This all led to some off-color sexually frustrated venting to a casual long distance friend who, at the end of one conversation, impudently remarked that I would always be welcome to share photos with him, as many and as often as I wished. I was feeling extra flirty that day so I did and then I did again until I suddenly found myself involved in some rather thrilling multimedia internet naughtiness. There were then packages, pictures, phone calls and suddenly a plane ticket and a promise to be present, be open, be in the moment, but mostly to be honest to the process of being accepting of whatever may come.

Now, just as a sidenote… they never tell you this. It’s like a secret club, with a secret handshake and apparently a secret language…. yiddish. Jewish men are well endowed. I’m not saying that they are necessarily the size of a small baby BUT holy girth on that thing!  I did a survey, of all my Jewish friends, and I looked it up on-line, and I saw a box of magnums in my friend’s drawer. Now, her husband is a 5’7″ Jewish man…I’m just saying. BUT, you can make whatever connection you want, I’m just saying that Jewish penis is something of a religious experience.

So, now I am back in my condo, with the dog, and I don’t want the same method of life I had been living. Did the religious cock send me on a quest for the holy grail? Perhaps. The details of that trip? That is purely mine and his. All I know is this, life is far too short to confine yourself to a definition. When did I stop living because my defined “way” of life wouldn’t allow it? Now I get so many questions. Some people need me to redefine as straight or bi or explain myself and why I feel justified in calling myself a lesbian in the tagline of this blog. I have spent 12 years heavily defined. I do not know what the future holds. I can only be here at this moment and be true to this journey, this exploration. If it makes you uncomfortable that my sexuality and use of sex does not fit comfortably into a tidy box, for this I can not apologize. Life is grey, relationships of all sorts are grey, sex and sexuality are grey. Don’t expect it to be tidy and black and white, for all of you will be shocked and disappointed each time it surprises you.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts

%d bloggers like this: