Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn. This is a conundrum.
My first date with Fiji (read about it here) was a breath of fresh air. A hurricane of it, really. He came off as witty, liberal, kind-hearted, well rounded, kinky, intelligent, and totally confident in himself. (I failed to mention previously that he also makes a pretty ridiculous 6-figure salary. Handy.) He had me laughing, and opening up, and nodding in agreement all evening, and flirting like crazy. And his kiss was perfection.
The sex, though. God dammit. The sex was not perfection.
Okay, honey. Uh huh. That’s great.
“You make such adorable faces when you squirm.” Fiji — what I’ll name the 6′ tall, 33-year-old, Fijian-Canadian tech executive I snagged off of OkCupid — shot an amused grin at me over our two bottles of Pinot Grigio. He had a small amount of extra padding around the middle, sported a chin-strap beard, and was dressed too casually for the place, yet I was finding him ridiculously sexy all the same. Continue reading
I had surgery in April and was off WordPress for a while. Largely because I was off sex for a while. Goddamn, it’s good to be back to both.
I’ll start with the ending of the story: I’m no longer seeing A. Contrary to what the last post may have led you to assume, the reason was not my harsh response to A.’s odd proposal. Continue reading