How Not To Charm The Pants Off a Woman

Naughty me, I’m going to tell the story of a recent dating flop…because I can. I can’t share this anywhere else because I don’t want to be seen as the tattle-tale type. This is a story of what happens when a man lets his dick tell him what to do.

Let’s call him Arthur. I’ve never dated a man named Arthur so it seems safe.

Arthur contacted me on last Thursday through a free dating site. Newly separated but living in the same house. Kiss of death for me, but I agree to coffee on Sunday, after getting confirmation that he was dating ‘publicly’.

We met for a mere 90 minutes. Conversation flowed fairly smoothy and the peck on the cheek at departure was adequate. In less than 2 hours I get this text:” I find you interesting, passionate, beautiful, witty charming and somebody I love to be with,,,oh…and sexy as hell!”

OK. So, flattery is always wonderful and I knew I looked good that day. You know how you look in the mirror and instantly know if you look hot or not?

Monday morning I get an email, it’s waiting for me when I get up. Title: Good Morning Luv.

Tuesday morning, it’s just Morning. Here’s a snippet of his note:

was just thinking about how great a whole day would be.Something I do hope we can do soon. A whole day. Beginning to end.
Haven’t done that in a long time. Wake up(together would be optional)in AM do something you LOVE to do, PM something I LOVE to do and evening something we both lOVE to do. Wouldn’t that be great? It would be for me anyway. No distractions. just sharing our souls for an extended period of time. I’d enjoy that.

Now remember, we’ve had one brief date over coffee and no phone conversations just texting.

I push for a second date and we have dinner that night. Again less than 2 hours together. He’s getting all hot and bothered, I can see it in his eyes. He touches my hand a couple of times and as we walk to the car he grabs my hand. Kiss at car is a bit more personal but I keep it short in a basic “I don’t really know you yet”  kind of kiss. He saunters off to his car looking like a satisfied man. The conversation was pleasant but not riveting. I don’t offer up anything that indicates a growing interest. But, I do notice that he’s talking about all the things we’ll do over time and acts as if the engagement is about to be announced.

Wednesday morning: He calls me Magical in his email as he talks about how relaxed he is in my presence. Pants still zipped at this point.

Thursday morning, 5:29am : He starts with a poem-

“My minds distracted and diffused,
My thoughts are many mies away,
They lie with you when you’re asleep.
And kiss you when you start your day.

Some words to say good morning and to wish I was there next to you.”

Now, I love the art of seduction. And, like many women, flattery will often get you where you want to be. But this? Borderline creepy.

Me: Nice poem-lovely. And, here’s the thing. I don’t know yet if I will have the feelings that you seem to have. We’ve only had 2 dates, fairly short and I don’t have that sense yet. We are getting along nicely and connecting, but I’m not feeling as strong a romantic pull as you are. It’s lovely to be wooed in this way and very flattering. You are a very sweet man and I am enjoying getting to know you.

Maybe we can just take it a bit slower and see how things progress? I don’t want to give you false hope.

This unleashes this torrent of passionate declaration. Before I can even read the email he’s sending texts.  Instead of hearing me he goes on to write that if I would allow him to see me ALONE! that he could make me see how attracted to him I really am. He tells me he knows me better than I think he does.. .I wouldn’t let that man in my house for all the money in the world at this point!

Talk about a man who isn’t listening:

Me:  I don’t want to roll into bed with you just yet. I want us to take a
 leisurely amount of time really getting to know each other. Sex clouds the
 issue sometimes. Don’t you think?
Him:  I believe there is a sexual attraction or I simply  wouldn’t feel it either–and I do. We wouln’t be committing to sex, I
just want the chance to really woo you in the way that I really am. I think it would be very pbvious if we were feeling it being right in a
short period of time. I would like that chance.

I tell him again that he’s moving too fast. Slow down, back off… I teIl him to take a cold shower.

Him: I feels (in response to my question of what he means by wooing me)  like holding you in my arms and really kissing you–no limp little half ass attemps but really kissing you–speaking of asses, I happen to love yours.  I t feels like wrapping your body around me–clothing always optional–and feeling the real magic of touch saying all the things that are real. should be real and can be real. I know you. I know what you want and need.

End of story! I finally sent a succinct note saying nicely that we were done. And, I ignored the next 2 emails. And holding my breath as he’s still looking at my profile. I fear that he’ll be back.

Moral of the story? Don’t lead with your genitals.

A Man and His….Dog

I’ve finally become the wise old sex goddess I was destined for…. only things are not going quite as planned. Or maybe they are? My experience with men, varied and far too many, has led me to this Ah Ha moment.

Men are like dogs.

I’m not a dog owner so this is simply an observation. So often you see a happy dog roll over on his back, showing his stomach. Actually one of my cats does this-he cocks his head and looks at me to say “rub please”… all happy and eager. He’s on display and trying his best to get his owner’s attention.

Men like to show their, ahem…… dick. I’ve experienced this more times than my children would ever want to hear me express publicly.  It typically happens in one of two ways. The two of you are kissing and he’s getting excited. Invariably he’ll take your hand and force it and gently bring it over to his bulging pants. The touch is paired with a sigh or moan of delight. His.  Or, depending on your prior intimacy, he may unzip his pants. I’ve been in those experiences- we’re kissing or touching and I’m aware of hand movement. I look down and he’s pulled the damn thing out. Like a dog who’s just brought you a dead squirrel, dropping it at your feet.  Look what I’ve got! Pant, pant.  More often the comment is, “Look what you did to my <insert some genital name here>”.  At that point he’s excited and in discovery mode. You’d think the poor guy had never gotten an erection. Note: for older men the appearance of a hard blunt object often elicits awe at our divine powers.

I admit to having once or twice murmured in awe, but only at an exceptionally large specimen.

Swanlady, a frequent commenter, is visiting me for a few weeks. We were on my deck yesterday enjoying a Makers and ginger ale discussing this male phenomenon. And, here’s the thing-neither of us can ever recall a story of a woman whipping out a breast to proclaim excitement about an erect nipple. Well, she’s heard of it once. But, really.

What is it, guys? Can’t you keep it in your pants. Is an erection so spectacular that you have to make sure we feel it right then and there. Sofa… car… church parking lot…bar (surreptitiously)….darkened movie theater. C’mon. We’re adults.

I take great pleasure in the seductive arts. I love to touch, I’m just that kind of tactile woman. And, knowing that Viagra might not be needed is a big plus in any relationship. But, I outgrew Show and Tell a few years ago. You don’t need to press your pants material around your member and say, with a glazed over look, ‘check this out’  or ‘wanna feel my weiner’ etc….. There is a 50/50 chance that I’m going to go straight to ‘oh my God, another, f#*@ing pervert’.  Really.

If I want to stroke it, I know how to unzip your pants and I know how to take matters into my own hand.  Don’t shove that damn thing in my face when I’m not ready for it. OK?

How One Freelance Writer Goes from Granny to Cougar

It’s time for this 57 year old grandma to get hip! I got the job! It’s not as much work, yet, as I had hoped. But. Out of 250ish applicants they chose 5. I’m one of those five. I will be writing a weekly blog for a new men’s product, targeted to 18-35 year old men. Yikes! My new boss is 27. He admitted last week that he wondered about my ability to connect with his target audience, given my age. I had to go through 3 rounds of interview type questions and writings to get this gig. It’s much better pay than the writing I did for a boomer site. And, the potential for more work and even a ‘job’ with the company is a future possibility.

They plan to whittle the list of writers down, based on reader engagement and traffic, so I may be calling on some of you to help me out. One of my girlfriends offered to read and comment..but I think they’re more interested in me bringing in a younger crowd, preferably men.

This will require some research. The writing is mostly about men and self-image and, what every man wants to know, how to get the girl! Or woman.  I am thinking of late night hangouts where I can observe my prey. Maybe even a date? Whatcha think? I could contemplate an evening out with a 35 year old. Question is whether he’d be interested in me?

If you have any suggestions on where or how to research the mindset of a young adult male let me know. I’m already starting to read Detail, Men’s Health and Men’s Journal.  Phat, isn’t it!

Call Me Irresponsible

The  date-a-base sits neglected. There has been no activity of late and the 2 who remain do not draw my interest. It’s stagnant.  The last week has sent me back to the old, needier dating patterns, maybe as a result of a string of near-misses in the dating world.  Who knows. For the last two days I’ve been corresponding with a faceless, married man on OKCupid- he’s straight up about what he wants and I stated my lack of interest in (another) relationship with a married man. And yet, he emailed and I emailed back. He’s bright and writes well… and that is enough to keep me in ‘eager’ mode. I started drilling him with questions last night, knowing I had nothing to lose, and his response served to keep me hooked. “A waterfall of inquisitions. I like it. “  Then he referenced an old movie quote.   Sigh. I’m a sucker for that kind of stuff. And, it was something that drew me to the last married man-he knew it and played to it, I would guess.

So, when I went to bed I asked for (Not really a prayer) some clarity around what I was doing and seeking, paired with a stronger focus on work and Me.  I woke up alert and ready  to go. As the pot of coffee was brewing I wrote this guy and talked about the hard, cold reality. I was succinct, something I’m often not, and didn’t cushion it in evasive stuff.  It was a polite, but firm No. He’s replied inviting me to be irresponsible at any time but I’m ignoring that (even though I would love a good tumble right about now).  It was fun to banter back and forth and I got to learn a little about the workings of someone intentionally seeking infidelity.

This whole Man:Woman thing never ceases to amaze me.

My New Date-A-Base Approach to Men

Just for fun, I made a Date-a-Base with Excel to keep track of the guys I was dating and/or talking to. I think I referenced it briefly as I talked about the dating world of Deliriously Divine One. Well, it is a lot of fun and a clever way to keep track, as well as share my stories with a few close friends who are in on my more private dating antics.  When I updated it yesterday, I created a Dead List, with the rows of information in a lovely medium gray highlighted shade. And in the ongoing section I’ve used varying degrees of grey to indicate interest level.

I’m still seeing two guys (not the same as previously mentioned)  and in conversation with a third. One of the two is simply a friendship type thing, no real excitement for me but we’ve had some pleasant evenings together over the last month or so-nothing more.  Number two is a whole different story… hubba hubba, she says with a degree of optimistic caution. The third needs to fall by the wayside for a couple of reasons, mostly because we live 2 hours apart and he has 2 teen girls around 1/2 time. I can’t imagine dealing with that! So, why even go down that road?

I’m finding it easier than ever to be more clear about potential choices. And, I’m acting out of a very ‘me-centered’ place. I don’t mean that to sound egotistical but I have tended in the past to give more consideration to what they wanted, as opposed to making my choices based on my personal interests. I realize now that the dreamy guy I called Joe. v2 really operates out of his own unique reality. It’s Joe’s World…or the highway.  And, while I contemplated meandering down that highway last week I reminded myself of what I want and what he wants and they only intersect, ever so briefly. So, I’m conjuring up an image of a bald aged Mike Meyers and the tattered plaid sofa in the basement when I think about Joe.v2 with nostalgic longings!!!

Today’s Topic: Sex

I thought we’d talk about something different for a change. Sex. Men. Orgasms.

In high school I was never the sexy one, the one that guys clamored to go out with. I don’t think I was the smartest one either, but I went to boarding school so the deck was stacked. I don’t know what I was… confused, self-conscious and just a teen who hated some aspects of her life. I had long blonde hair and was not unattractive, but unaware. I’ve never felt as sensuous or sexual as I’ve felt in my late 40′s and 50′s.

For my senior page in the yearbook I had to have an informal photo shot and a quote. I’m smarter than the average person, but not the pithy words, quotes and esoteric crap type intelligent. My senior quote was “a rolling stone gathers no moss”. I don’t even really know what it means, and I didn’t know then either.

Now, I would say it means that it’s time for me to quit letting myself be trapped by all the unappealing, clingy, unnecessary trivia in life. It’s time to let go of what impedes me… if I can figure out what that might look like. Right now, at 5:32 PM on a hot Tuesday afternoon what that looks like is me feeling free to talk about my orgasms.

Yes, the Orgasm. I have them but it can be a bit of work to get me there. And, I have to have one of two things: either an exceptionally skilled man and the right moment or a good strong relationship in which ‘he’ is committed to learning my body and devoting his time and energy. Once you’ve figured that out, then it’s a breeze, a guaranteed ace-in-the-hole, every time!  There is a third possibility- self play and a good vibrator. Which is why we’re talking about sex right now.

Joe.v2 gave me a gorgeously expensive, great vibrator- it’s a G-spot vibrator. But, the thing is I’m not a G-spot type girl. I’m a clit girl… and guys, in case you didn’t know this, we’re usually one or the other. And, when we tell you which it is, it would be to your benefit to pay attention. He wasn’t really listening and apparently wasn’t willing to put in the required amount of effort to bring untold rewards and delights to both of us. And, I think this g-spot toy was supposed to be a teaching tool?

Well, as of yesterday, v2 is gone. But I still have the vibrator and over the last few weeks I’ve been teaching myself a few new tricks. I’m learning to develop my g-spot. Oh Man…. this afternoon I got it, dead on and was in spasms of delight within a couple of minutes. I wish I’d clocked it. And, I wish it’d taken a little longer.

What I was reminded of, as I lounged in a post-coital type mode, was that no one really gets the job done better than oneself. Really. I’m serious. Talk about seduction and gentle kisses, talk about the excitement and delight… but don’t forget the messy details of relating to another person, and at our age that often includes pills, extra time getting ‘ready’ and other stuff that comes into play. This was simple, satisfying and wonderfully refreshing. I don’t have to chat, make him feel good, “do” him in return. Cook him dinner. Nope. Just a wash up with hot soap for my purple delight and I’m done. I feel a bit like a man writing all that.

Seriously. Taking care of one’s own needs is a useful tool for anyone to develop and nurture.  But, there’s no way I’d give up sex with a real man for my toys. But, I will give up sex with men who fail to take the time to fully appreciate what they’re being offered… and men who aren’t listening or ‘giving’. There are givers and there are takers. I’m a giver. And, I want to be in a bed with a giver as well.

For now? I’ve got that satisfied air about me. There’s no clingy moss on my ass!

Flirting, Sex, and Other Man-Woman Topics

We went to the bar last night. My girlfriend is in town for a few weeks and this particular bar is our favorite hang-out. They even gave us a plaque one year for being such good customers!  Make my momma proud!

So, we went to have fun, in a very mature, safety-oriented kind of way. And, as you can see we make it home safely.  Here’s the thing.  We met the most delightful man. He was funny, engaging and delighted to sit with us. He started a decent bit away then asked to join us, and of course we said yes.

It was a challenge for me.  He was so open and very funny, a great conversationalist but not too self-centered. He was charming and yet managed to casually drop in the line about the wife at home waiting for him. I had already sensed that flirting would be a not so great idea and wanted to prove to myself and the bartender (another story) that I could have a normal conversation with a man and not flirt. I wanted to get up and move next to him so we could talk more easily but I didn’t trust myself  not to touch his arm or something. And, in the end it was a wise move (or not move) on my part. As we all parted ways he gave me his card and we talked about writing. He’s interested in hearing more about what I do and I think there may be networking possibilities.  Wouldn’t that be cool!  He suggested we meet at the bar for a drink, I know it’s not a come-on as he’s very devoted to his wife and talked freely about his relationship with her.  Very cool.

Sex: I’ve come to a major realization here.  ha.  I like sex. And I want good, steamy sex that starts with a slow simmer and intensifies. And, where the hell am I going to find that?  I’m sure I have a friend, well maybe two, who would be happy to service me but that ain’t gonna cut it. Because, while it’s good and fun, affectionate and satsifying in a way, it wouldn’t be the real mattress-gripping, heart pounding stuff. Oy!

Other man-woman topics? Well, that’s just to round out the title. There are no other topics. That’s it. Unless you’re married and need to discuss toilet lid, up or down. Socks on the floor and the weekend’s sports schedule. I don’t have to do that…

 

A Menage a Trois and Lobster Mac and Cheese

Last night was a love night for me, expressing the kind of generosity and love we should be sharing year round.  It wasn’t one of those ‘get naked’ love nights (sadly) but it was still a good time.

My ex-boyfriend called and asked me out for a drink-and offered to pay! Who can say no to that. I had no other plans and we still have a pleasant relationship so I said yes. It’s been almost 3 years since we split up after living together for 2 1/2 years. He’s nice and I occasionally enjoy his company. We  met at my favorite bar and since he was treating I had the good stuff-Maker’s Mark.

This is my bar. I’ve been going there for 7 years and have good friends there-they’re all guys and consider me one of the gang. It’s a mixed crowd and the conversations can be quite fun or boring…lots of sports, but occasionally we talk movies, politics, etc.  What we never ever talk about is relationships!!!   I love this place- the bartender, the atmosphere, the food and the chef.  I love the chef and often send him little love notes on the bar napkins. He’s been known, on a slow night, to fix something special for me. And, I am always appreciative.

He makes a killer lobster mac and cheese and I’ve been begging him to make  it again. I gave him my phone number, on a bar napkin, and he promised to call me. Well, he didn’t. But, when he found out I was there last night (I guess they talk about bar customers in the kitchen? Or I’m just that much of a personality) , he sent a waitress out to tell me he had my dish on the menu. I berated him for the short notice but was kind about it.

Well, then the ex says, ‘let me treat you to dinner’.  The best part is that he wasn’t even going to stay and dine with me!!!  It got comical because another dear friend sitting on the other side of me asked if he could get a free dinner too. My ex replied that my treat was due to having a vulva.  Yikes!  Crowded bar and 2 men are talking about my vulva…well not literally,  though both were intimately familiar with it. And, knew it. I think I actually blushed.

The ex pays the bill, including my lobster, gives me a big hug and leaves. The one on my right who I had hoped would stay leaves as well. So, I’m alone at the bar awaiting my take-out dinner. I scribble a note on the napkin and send it to the chef.  The bartender pours me another short drink for the wait and we talk about the three-some we had going there. He overheard the conversation about my having a V…. , but he missed the word. So I had to share that with him. It was obligatory; he’s a good friend and rarely misses anything. And he keeps it all professional and confidential.   When my food arrives, I grab the bag with out checking inside and make my way home. I get here, pour a glass of wine, grab a plate, and open the bag to find my dinner with the cover art you see above. With a smear of divine lobster sauce on the edge.

What a treat, a love note from my favorite chef. It was worth a dozen roses. Sweet, unprovoked and fun. Sometimes all it takes is a simple gesture. Are we in that kind of man-woman love? Heavens no, he’s just a dear man and I treat him with affection and respect for his personality and his culinary expertise. I’ll probably tack the lid on the frig.  I imagine it’ll be the only love note I get this week.