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Posts Tagged ‘world cup’

“Then indecision brings its own delays,
And days are lost lamenting o’er lost days.
Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute;
What you can do, or dream you can, begin it;
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.”

-Goethe.

Is it indecision that I am feeling lately? A little insecurity, that I do recognize. It isn’t that I am questioning whether I am attractive or if the boys like me. I know I am and that they do, yet I have days like every other woman (or man for that matter) and occasionally I just need a little something more.

I need to NOT know about the woman from work that Cooper Fiennes is exchanging flirtation with. I have no rational rights to claiming him as my own. I don’t own him, but I desire him and his company much more than I ever thought I would, so it makes sharing him difficult at best. Certain days, I need him to myself. This woman gets him for weekend trips, nights out dancing, things I want to do with him. How do I ask this? May I?

I need to feel that my time is considered valuable and that I am desired. When Type Geek rain-checks and cancels and reschedule(s) enough times in a month to make my calendar look like an abstract, post modernist art piece, you know it is out of hand.When I get dropped off at home after a day of day tripping around beach towns, rather that brought back for sex… even if it was morning sex, then I feel a little less than desired. I’m not asking for a marathon here. 20 minutes? Maybe? I know I am attractive, but having someone desire you feels great. It is great. Having someone cancel dinner plans twice, because they are hanging out with their platonic colleague who they may or may not desire, mmmm, well, makes you feel less than desireable at times.

I am so easy-going and allowable. I try to allow each of them their rights to be present as is truthful for them. However, perhaps I am being too casual. Perhaps I do need to act more like a woman who is interested in a hot Spaniard. I’m not a push over, but is my zen attitude places nails on my coffin?

So, why can’t I just make some sort of move here? What delicate balance am I worried about disturbing? This current scenario is only partially working for me currently. So, what is my answer. If only Goethe was better with having a strong definitive.  Perhaps I cannot expect that because, afterall Germany did come in 3rd in the World Cup. Even Paul the Octopus chose a more passionate country to root for.

Maybe that is the dilemma. Passion. It has been so many years since I truly felt passion that I am unable to control the passion I do have now.

I need a writer/philosopher with some better guidance. Perhaps Dali, the painter had it right. Maybe all of this stuff makes us feel like melting clocks on a harsh landscape.  All I really want is to be naked in bed with Cooper Fiennes at this exact moment. That, for today, is all I want.

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An update on the day… Sunday July 10, 2010.

Spain wins first World Cup EVER!

Cooper Fiennes sobs from joy, then sadness. Being in the United States, so far from friends, family and countrymen was amplified post win. Then, once the floodgates opened, it was apparent that he was also crying over the loss of his marriage and all of the change in his life. I believe he is lonely, in a way that friends aren’t able to reach into and fill at the moment. It was immensely endearing to se him so vulnerable. All I wanted to do was hold him, but we were at his colleague’s house. The woman whom the strange dynamic exists.

A question in my mind, since I had heard that Spanish men weren’t particularly blessed in physical endowment, however he is, was answered. It was a sideline conversation and when Cooper Fiennes mentioned that his great-grandmother was Sephardic Jew… it clicked. Once again, Hung Like a Jew is true. Of course, the hottie with the beautiful cock turns out to have some Jewish running through the most important veins of his body. I should have known that there was a reasonable explanation for it, besides meer blessed fluke.

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I was meeting up with my ex girlfriend, the screenwriter, today for coffee when Cooper Fiennes texted me asking if I wanted to meet up and watch the Brazil-Chile match. Curious for them to meet each other, I told him to join us at my favorite cafe. She had heard about him and he, likewise. About 20 minutes later he walked in and she stumbled over herself for the first moments. She has deep-seated insecurities which makes meeting new people incredibly awkward for her.  He excused himself for the restroom and she was able to express her “oh my god”s and “holy shit”s regarding her impression of him. Once he arrived back at the table she was able to relax and speak comfortably with him.

Prior to C.F. , Screenwriter Girl had the best body of anyone I had been with. Unfortunately, her reasons behind the pristine physique were resulting from serious childhood sexual abuse trauma. A need to feel physically strong, since she is an emotional cripple. I care about her, but how do I say this? I was NEVER in love with her. She needed too much rescuing and I was already lost.  C.F.actually commented later on this. He said that there was something in her eyes that showed her traumas to the world. Even after she has gained physical strength, she has been unable to feel safe and heal. Her body is not a tool for fun and sport, as it is with C.F., this is their difference. Cooper Fiennes relishes sport of all types for how alive it makes him feel. The more his body aches, the more he pushes and challenges himself, the more alive and vibrant he feels. It’s incredibly sexy. Screenwriter Girl is trapped in her body, Cooper Fiennes uses his as an instrument of freedom.

I realized that the match had begun nearly twenty minutes prior and we really needed to get out the door and find a pub close by with food and the game. It was destined to be a good game, both teams are historically strong players with great coaches, so it could go either way. We left the cafe and said cheers to Screenwriter Girl and headed down the street. The Irish pub around the corner had air conditioning (THANK GOD!) and we found a seat right below the flat screen. 0-0 with a half hour in. We ordered some ciders, some food, and settled in. He pulled my stool closer to his and proceeded to act like a 14-year-old boy the entire match. You know, the “I poke you cause I like you” game? I love that he actually explains certain aspects of the game to me, things such as why there is a difference in the calls made by the English refs versus Spanish refs, what constitutes a yellow card or a foul, etc. He does it without my asking. While I have always liked International Football, I have watched it without knowing much about the game besides the obvious: ball goes into net equals goal. Dating C.F. has MANY benefits, apparently!!!

Brazil squashed Chile 3-0. It was a great game, but Chile could have played stronger. Not wanting to brave the heat, which was still nearly 35 degrees celsius/ 94 degrees farenheit , we had the waitress switch on Wimbledon for twenty minutes. Roddick had his ass handed to him by Yen-Hsun Lu and Capriati was rushed to the hospital for an accidental overdose. Between Capriati’s issues and Aggasi having been a meth user, who knew that Tennis could be so full of illicit behaviors?! It always seemed more refined some how. I guess when Tiger has a harem, Agassi smokes the pipe and Capriati abuses prescription pills, there is no such thing as refined sports anymore. Public figures are public figures and they all are susceptible to demons that fame can bring.

We wandered out, immediately wilted in the heat and decided to grab some ice cream for the stroll back to the train station. On the way he poked me no less than 30 times, and we stopped in 5 stores with air conditioning just to cool off for a few moments. We grabbed one more iced tea at Starbucks and sat chatting before parting ways on the street.

Meanwhile, I have been starting my period all day and annoyed that I couldn’t get a piece of ass if I begged. I’ve decided that hard to get is my new alter ego. If either of these boys want booty, they gotta work for it and jump through hoops, cause I’m not gonna be so easy anymore, damn it. Sigh, even if it means that I end up so sexually frustrated that I develop carpal tunnel from masturbating.

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by www.thenewgay.net  Check them out for awesome queer news and culture!

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I feel like I keep getting the ball near the net, but the goal just isn’t happening! I understand that both of my boys are busy, busy men, however, aren’t the men usually the ones that are chasing the girls for a piece of ass? How am I desperate for sex on the night before my period (translation: horny horny, horny and snuggly.) and with two men on my belt and yet, I’m stuck alone eating garlic hummus and fresh tomatoes and feeling mopey cause I’m not getting laid tonight? For one of their credits, Cooper Fiennes just moved into a new sublet this weekend and is wrecked, with an early morning start at work tomorrow. Type Geek though. Hmm. I’m not sure what to think of him. He rides the line of tepid or warm, mostly tepid though, with an occassional jump into hot, hot heat. The night he got back from Europe was hot. Thursday, was like married sex. He crawled into bed while I was brushing my teeth, under the covers, night lamp on beside him. I come into the room and undress my self, which is fine by the way, BUT, I like the whole undressing thing and the carrying on over the covers, the slowly shedding clothing and having to find it the next day. We are still casual, shouldn’t it be like that?

Type Geek and I took a day trip together on Saturday out of the city, hell, out of the state. We perused cute little waterfront towns and walked board walks. We played some bad pinball and worse Donkey Kong Jr. and had a wonderful dinner on the way home. I thought for sure that I would get laid, if not at night, since we were both tired, then perhaps in the morning. Except, while waiting for me to grab stuff from my house, he decided he was just too tired and asked if it was okay if we raincheck. Raincheck? All last week were rainchecks. Sigh. I know he’s attracted to me, I know he’s interested, but really? Rainchecks? How hard to get does he want to play? I’m already there. He’s already got me in his bed. Maybe it’s my turn to play a little hard to get. Harumph. I hate feeling forced to play games, but jesus christ, a girl may like you to buy her a nice dinner, but a girl also likes a good fuck too. maybe I need to make myself a little less available.

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Last Tuesday night was a fun night with Type Geek. Being with him is always this great mix of sweetness and naughtiness. I never feel like I need to play a charade or be something I am not with these two boys I am seeing right now. I have tried to step it up with the dresses a bit and play up the girly factor a little bit more, since they both seem to really enjoy that, but it isn’t something that comes unnaturally. I was always a very femme girl. The time and effort are what stopped my sometimes, not the dress and the cute shoes. So, as I was saying, it’s nice to wake up next to someone and be able to just be yourself.

I was wondering how this was going to work, now that Type Geek and Cooper Fiennes are back in the same city, hell, the same neighborhood. So far, it’s interested. This past weekend was the first experiment in how this will work. I have this weird thing in my mind, If I am going to see the two boys on back to back nights, I need to see Type Geek and then Cooper Fiennes the next. I would be embarrassed to say this, to admit it to some people, BUT, this is anonymous and only a very few of you know my real identity…so what the hell. I feel like it’s unfair to have sex with the well endowed energizer bunny the night before the average guy. Average is NOT bad, but I get a different, more primal, being fucked kind of feeling from my Spaniard. There are times, and certain positions, that are almost painful. Not quite painful, but almost. Type Geek is wonderful, but I don’t get that feeling from him. I really enjoy sex with both of them, but there is something about fucking a man with a perfectly toned body, a large cock and a great sense of humor, that sometimes trumps the guaranteed orgasm the other can give you.  Cooper Fiennes is a piece of fruit with an expiration date, and I want to savor it while I have it. Type Geek lives here, is a permanent resident, has relationship potential, if I decide I want a relationship with a man again.

So, I was hoping to see Type Geek on Thursday or Friday, with Cooper Fiennes following up on Friday or Saturday. Plans with Type Geek kept getting turned around, post-poned and canceled due to work and family emergencies. I understand and truthfully, I am not bothered by it. I feel badly for some of the drama he is digging through at the moment. It’s hard to come back from vacation and step right back into chaos. So, then I tried to make a date with Cooper Fiennes. We had lunch later in the week, Thursday. That was nice, but not naked. Friday night he was exhausted. He ran 7 miles, played soccer and had gone rowing for 2 hours. He was done by 10 pm and hoping to be in bed by 11. We had a big gay brunch to go to on Saturday morning. June is always gay pride month, as many of us are aware, and I was invited to a brunch by a couple I know. Cooper Fiennes and I went, stood in the rain and watched some big gay festivities, I came out to my former neighbor as a recently reformed cock lover (which elicited an interesting response that I will touch base on in my next post), and then my dog and I walked C.F. across town to a bar for the World Cup games. I then headed home and had fingers crossed that I was seeing my Type Geek that night.

As the hours stretched by, it seemed likely I would be stuck at home alone for the night. T.G. had family stuff that needed to be dealt with and C.F. was being less than responsive to my texts wondering what he was up to after he was done hanging with his work friends. his work friends do NOT know the true nature of our relationship. I think some have an idea BUT it is a little complicated. Prior to meeting me, he had a very brief fling with one of their fellow colleagues. C.F. is married, but with no hope of reconciliation. His wife wanted something different and she told him so and moved on. he can’t finalize the divorce until he goes back to Spain. His colleague was cheating on her husband to be with him. Because of this, and how attached she was for their situations, C.F. ended it. She has been a bit passive aggressive ever since. Also, he is semi private about his divorce. While they know he isn’t living with her anymore and that I seem to show up at weird places and weird times, nothing has been said. Eventually, I’m taking a bath at 9 pm. It will prove to either be for a quick shave so I can molest C.F. or a pre bed soak. Midway through my bath, C.F. says he will meet up. Yay, sex !!

We met on the train platform, I stuck the fishnets back on, with my boots, a hot little silky black dress I hadn’t worn yet and minimal eye makeup. I knew the makeup wasn’t what he would be looking at. As we sat next to each other on the train, I slid his hand under the edge of the dress so he could feel that I had on garters. Happy boy. We picked up some ice and made it back to his house in record time. As I made us a couple of cocktails, he tried to distract me. We started on the kitchen counter and then he picked me up and moved me to the bed. Damn, it’s really hot to be physically picked up and moved around by someone like that. Again, stockings stayed on, sex rocked and we actually finished before dawn. We then finished our drinks and had a really great conversation about us and his marriage and our philosophies on life and dating and sex, etc. Next thing I know, we are having sex again. He is exhausted, I’m sore, and we really just need to sleep cause the birds are singing and he has to meet his colleagues to support a team event they are participating in. We look at each other and just pull up the blankets and stop. Then the phone rings. The event is starting early, in a half hour to be precise. I was planning on heading home, grabbing the dog and meeting back up, as if we hadn’t been in bed with eachother all night. That was not going to happen however. He jumped in the shower, I just threw on my non naughty clothes I brought to change into and we ran over to the event site.

Within a half hour, his colleagues all noticed I was there, and it was early and hmmm. One woman made comments. We think she knows. She kept saying things to illicit responses from either of us, specifically me and I would play deaf, ignorant or just laugh and change the topic whenever she said a word. I’m curious how this will all play out for him now that the week has started back up. Meanwhile, I held out mini hopes that maybe I could hang out with Type Geek on Sunday evening, but his brother is just too ill and needed him there for the night. The brother is being brought back to the hospital today. Hopefully they find an answer to his months of problems and I get my boy back soon.

Now, it’s the beginning of the week. I am going to try to avoid chatting up my Spaniard and try to get some errands taken care of. I want him to contact me next time he wants sex or company. I shouldn’t be doing the chasing all the time. He needs to work for it a bit, I have been too easy for him.

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