It’s funny how my online dating experiences have evolved and I also see it in other profiles.
There’s that guy that is so possessive of himself that he gives off this giant “chip on the shoulder” attitude in his profile. He’s so adamant about a woman not “changing” him that he just puts it all out there. He’s the “I burp, I fart, I don’t have a job, I live with my mother and I don’t care what the fuck you think” kind of guy. I’m glad he’s confident in himself but I can’t imagine him ever giving a shit about me enough to even go on a date with that kind of attitude. What’s the point of even having a profile if you just want to be with yourself?
I consistently see folks that write “no drama and no games” in their profiles. How realistic and likely is this? Just because they met someone and fell for them hard and then got their heart broken they have now labeled it as a “game”? Perhaps the other person just didn’t see the world like they do and was unable to return the same feelings, emotions or physical connection. What is wrong with that?
Why would you WANT to be with someone that did not feel the same about you? Breaking up is hard but a necessity at that point – hearts mend over time. Don’t get mad because someone isn’t “right” for you.
The most boring clichés of online profiles:
– I’m laid back
– I’m easy-going
– I work hard and play hard too
– I don’t want drama or games
– I have a great sense of humor
– I’ve never done this before and I’m “just looking”
And then there’s the quintessential bathroom self-portrait … those just kill me. At least meeting people in bars was social interaction, with this online stuff I feel like I’m only getting lucky with my computer screen.
~ Globe Trotter in Lingerie
I’m consistently tempted by all the naughty things in life. I thrive on that moment where I’m thinking “I really should not do this”. I’d rather have fun and deal with the consequences later.
I found one of these opportunities while attending an out-of-town seminar for my company. When I introduced myself he tipped his chin and smiled mischievously at me – he was one of the presenters and a coworker that I’d never met before – this could get really interesting.
He was exactly the kind of man that I’m really into. Someone who can intellectually spar with me and drive me to laughter with his great sense of humor. He’s a whiz in our industry and has a charismatic nature that I’m immediately drawn to.
By the second day he was already physically flirty at the seminar dinner. I loved the way he put his hand on my shoulder when he got up to leave the table and brushed his fingers across my neck. After four glasses of wine I was game.
We walked over to my hotel room and he wasted no time in making the first move – a total turn-on for me. His whiskers burned my skin as he kissed me harder and harder saying he wanted to “ravage me”.
He pushed himself into me. I bit his lip and felt him instantly get hard through my dress. He pushed my hand down his torso and felt his erection pulse and throb meanwhile that little voice inside of me was saying “I really should not do this”.
He pulled at the strap on my bra and released my breast, kissing me all the way down my neck and chest. I was about the lose all my cares in the world and then he said “I really better go”.
He left. I went to bed still smelling him and thinking about what could have happened. Another one bites the dust. I’m pretty sure that was a good choice for both of our careers in our insanely conservative corporate life. But it’s not very fun!
~ Globe Trotter in Lingerie
So I wrote, for the first time in ages, only a couple days ago … about my bestie guy friend and our killer sex life behind his serious girlfriend’s back. Well let me tell ya (and trust I will go back and write about my FF and his huge fucking hose soon) things have taken a HARD CORE left turn … er right turn … not entirely sure.
Let me start with this … I adore this man. He rocks my world in so many ways its not even funny. He is the ONE person I know I can be ME totally ME around. In all my geeky retarded splendor. Oh yeah. He likes me for the stupid me. Those guys are few and far between.
So here is this guy, so perfect it’s like I was cut from his missing rib, but so far from my type it would make your head spin. I date bikers and truckers, zz tops lookin’ mother fuckers and bad ass boys. And here is this mostly put together business man who comes home from work in dress pants/shoes/shirt/and even a tie at times. WHAAAA???!!! No 9″ long goatee. No tattoos. No oddball piercings. No record (that I know of) and yet someone that drives me so crazy I want to hump his leg randomly when we’re out.
So his birthday was this past Friday. I thought long and hard and came up with a gift that no one but me would ever get him. Story for another time…
Thursday we had an epic day together – hot and heavy in an abandoned army depot. Friday, major suck fest, and not in the hot and sexy way. In the “my life sucks” way. Hard to face not seeing him because he is with his girlfriend. Major gut check. I wasn’t shy about how I felt and he caught onto the fact that I’m tired of waiting for him to get shit figured out.
~Not Yer Bitch
If you’ve ever visited our Facebook page, you know that I like to have fun once in a while and do a “Red Head Sunday”. I’m working on one right now while I write this. I just love being a Ginger, but it took me quite a few years to grow into that love. I used to be “made fun of” for my white skin and freckles, and my typical sunburned skin in the summer months. Now I treasure my “different” look like no other.
I was eating lunch with a friend the other day and she commented on how men glance and sometimes stare when I’m around or pass them by. Even her husband noticed at the last event we attended. He said “does she know everyone is staring at her?” For some reason I never notice this unless someone points it out to me. If men are that visually attracted to me then why don’t they approach me? Do I give off this “unapproachable vixen” vibe as well? I sure hope not! Even Sex Kitten thinks I’m a “Force of Nature” as she put it.
I have a birthday coming up this week and I was thoughtfully looking back on my dating life over the years. One simple fact is that I’ve NEVER asked a man on a date. That’s hilarious considering how many men I’ve dated minus the years with my ex-husband. I’m honestly not even sure how to pull it off … do I have the balls to do this?
So that’s my goal this year, I need to start “asking” instead of just going along with the hottie that approaches me. I don’t think it’s an insecurity issue or lack of self esteem, I think I just have terrible timing and I’m rather un-assuming about people’s opinions of me. I need to come to terms with how others see me and how I see myself. I don’t think I’m painfully lacking in self-awareness but it does throw me off a bit.
I think I might start by talking to the security guard at my office building. He’s a tall, dark and handsome type that always says “hi” and asks how my day is going. I’ve overheard the cleaning lady say “She’s so pretty!” to him as I leave the building so maybe she has him convinced and I’ll have bonus points for trying. I wonder if a redheaded tattooed sassy woman is his type … I’ll keep ya posted.
~Globe Trotter in Lingerie
From our honest and loyal Facebook fans with a few of my own thrown in there too.
– Men in kilts
– Innocently bending over when he’s looking
– Bald men with tattoos
– Sucking on my fingers
– Humming in my ear
– Lightly blowing on my neck and ears
– Licking me like a lollipop
– Pulling my hair
– Feather light touches
-Kissing my stomach
-Biting my neck when we’re doggie style
– A normal text turns into sexting
– Knowing you shouldn’t do something and not stopping
– Making them say what they want even though you already know
– When he runs his finger down my spine
– Nibbling in all the right places
– Knowing someone else might be watching you
– Whisker burn
– Biting my lip
– Still smelling him on the pillow afterward
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~ Globe Trotter in Lingerie
I have a lot of catching-up to do here. First off, Sex Kitten is right, I did hear from Airport Man via email. He said he’s been in Afghanistan but should be back in March and wants to come and see me – and of course he “thinks about me all the time”. Is there some sort of play-book here he’s writing from? I mean really, he must be horny at hell at this point. And then he signs off by saying “Have you thought about me from time to time?” Hmmmm … does thinking about his large throbbing dick count? That’s all I can remember right now … the licking, and kissing, and hot-as-hell sex. And it all just makes me super horny!
But the truth is, Airport Man is just not the guy for me. No matter how much my throbbing desires try to persuade me.
It’s gonna be a dry-spell kind of holiday … bring on the New Year!
~Globe Trotter in Lingerie
The Perfect Gentleman is actually hard for me to think and write about. He’s someone I’ve known for a few years but he’s not physically close to me. We talk on the phone all the time, text and keep track of each other over social media.
He’s on my dubious list of If Onlys in my life. He’s very tall, dark and adorable … and racially different which is such a heart-stopper for me. He’s quirky and sassy but very much always The Perfect Gentleman. He always insists on paying for everything, opening doors and treating me like a queen — and would probably buy me an island if he could afford to. He’d do anything for me and the way he looks at me makes me melt. The great part is that we feel the same way about each other … the terrible part is that he’s 4 states away.
We had a missed opportunity to see each other last weekend. I guess I better get used to disappointment with this one, which hurts more because he’s so fun. He’s incredibly passionate and intense sexually and can turn me on instantly. He has a great sense of humor and actually playfully smacked my ass at the bar when I sassed at him about something. He apologized profusely because he’s The Perfect Gentleman, but if I let him know how much it turns me on, he’d never let me leave.
Complication is exciting right? I know I should not hold out for this one but I sure hope my next adventure with him is soon. If Only he was not 900 miles away. I’m terrible at goodbyes. I think it took me an hour of kissing and holding him to get in my car and drive away. I’m sure he’ll eventually be on The One That Got Away list.
… calling him by the wrong name is a legitimate concern. (Can’t go wrong with “baby”)
… you’ve ever found The Missing Condom from last week’s boy while in bed with this week’s boy and surreptitiously hid it in the pillowcase so you don’t have to answer uncomfortable questions. (Oh, don’t be a weeny. It was unwrapped but unused.)
… his brother nearly walks in on the two of you on the floor of his living room and later wants to know how one of your socks got to be on the shelf with the wineglasses in the kitchen. (I actually have no idea either.)
… on the second date, he tells you that he understands that you’re going through a “whoring phase” and you can’t really argue with that. (Secretly pleased that he cottoned on so quickly.)
… the man who wakes up in your bed on Wednesday morning is not the man who kissed you good-bye on Tuesday morning, and Wednesday’s man has to be reminded of how Tuesday night’s date went. (Dinner was delicious. No, we did not have sex. Yes, you drank too much and passed out on my couch.)
OK, best 3 out of 5. Can you add your own to the list?
~ Sex Kitten (with claws)
I just finished reading High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, which is the most fun and wise novel about being single that I’ve read in a long time. Here are a few excerpts, but I definitely recommend that you check it out for yourself:
Sometimes it seems as though the only way a man can judge his own niceness, his own decency, is by looking at his relationships with women–or rather, with prospective or current sexual partners. It’s easy enough to be nice to your mates. You can buy them a drink, make them a tape, ring them up to see if they’re OK… there are any number of quick and painless methods of turning yourself into a Good Bloke. When it comes to girlfriends, though, it’s much trickier to be consistently honorable. One moment you’re ticking along, cleaning the toilet bowl, and expressing your feelings and doing all the other things that a modern chap is supposed to do; the next you’re manipulating and sulking and double-dealing and fibbing with the best of them. I can’t work it out.
Every time I think I have got to the bottom, I find a new way to sink even lower, but I know that this is the worst, and that whatever happens to me from now on, however poor or stupid or single I get, these few minutes will remain with me as a shining cautionary beacon. “Is it better than lying face-down in a flower bed after Laura’s dad’s funeral?” I shall ask myself when the bailiffs come into the shop, or when the next Laura runs off with the next Ray, and the answer will always, always be “Yes.”
Women’s knickers were a terrible disappointment to me when I embarked upon my cohabiting career. I never really recovered from the shock of discovering that women do what we do: they save their best pairs fro the nights when they know they are going to sleep with somebody. When you live with a woman, these faded, shrunken tatty scraps suddnly appear on radiators all over the house; your lascivious schoolboy dreams of adulthood as a time when you are surrounded by exotic lingerie for ever and ever amen… those dreams crumble to dust.
~ Sex Kitten (with claws)
The first time I was single was in the early 90s. I was naive, had no sexual experience and would probably be described as shy and introverted. I was coasting through life without a care in the world and didn’t have a clue what I was looking for in a man. If they bought me a drink, I’d talk to them for hours and always had to know if they were kissable. I had an average sex life for a young woman and could count my partners on one hand prior to my marriage at 24.
I got the ring, lived the life, crashed-and-burned at married life and here we are again. Living single – but loving it – the second time around.
At first I panicked and could not believe I had to do the dating thing again. But it should be easy the second time around, right? Yeah, not so much. I tried an online dating service and met a great guy right out of the chute. He was a charming, professional the same age as me and he was more exotic than my previous attempts – he was Egyptian. This was my first experience with a completely different way of life, religion and philosophy towards Americans. I was hooked and he was amazing.
My friends now joke with me that I’m “making my way across the globe via the bedroom.” That’s a little exaggerated but I sure am having fun meeting so many men! This blog will entertain and keep you up to speed on my Globe-Trotting-in-Lingerie.