Tag Archives: love

Saying no to one of the best sex partners I’ve had

18 Dec

I had sex for the first time almost a year after my divorce, two years after the separation.  Lollypop Guy became a fuck buddy who surfaces every now and then for one or two encounters, and then fades away.  We have crazy chemistry.  When we get together, there’s so much passion, so much desire.  I haven’t felt like this with any other man after him.  We get along pretty well, but we don’t have much in common, other than our mutual enjoyment of each other.  That’s why we both know that we will stay fuck buddies and nothing more.

The last time Lollypop Guy and I were together was about five months ago.  Last week, out of the blue, he started texting again.  I, not really knowing if I wanted to see him this time, ignored his texts.  He called the day before yesterday.  We had a nice, friendly conversation.  Got up to speed with each other, and then he mentioned that he was seeing someone.  That gave me pause, but his voice is so enticing, and you could hear the desire in it.  I let him believe that I would see him later in the week.  I needed time to think and make up my mind as to what to do.

I’ve been alone pretty much since Pilot Guy.  Aside from a brief and not noteworthy encounter with Six Kids Guy, I haven’t had sex in quite a while.  I’ve also been talking to a new guy from the dating site, but we haven’t met in person and I’m not sure it’s going to work.  Sailor Guy has his own set of issues.  All in all, I’m pretty lonely and sad, so a good fuck with a hot guy would actually be a great temptation.

Lollypop Guy is quite hot.  So what if he is dating someone?  They both live pretty far from where I live.  I’m sure we don’t know each other.  We don’t run in the same circles.  Most likely she will never find out.  Besides, he has been My fuck buddy for the past three years.  I have precedence.  And I’m so lonely… and he does me like no one else has ever done me.

I had to say no.  I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I did to someone else the exact same thing that hurt me so much.  I know I could have rationalized the shit out of having sex with Lollypop Guy.  I may have inadvertently had sex with him while he was dating someone else before.  But this time I knew.  There was no way of unknowing the fact.  The biggest thing is that, no matter how great the sex is, I want to do it with someone who will also choose to be with me.  Why the fuck do I have to give this guy the best sex he’s had in a long time (his words) when he does not, and will not, choose me?

We talked on the phone this morning.  He wants me because he hasn’t found anybody who does him quite the way I do, not even the girl he’s dating now.  I almost fell for his bullshit.  Just now he texted:  “I was honest with you.  I deserve at least one last time as a goodbye.”  My answer?  There’s no need for goodbyes.


The haunted elevator

13 Dec

So once again I’m out of work.  Let’s not go into the details because they are ridiculous.  The only reason I mention it is because, now that I’m at home during the day, I’ve been kinda restless, stuff happens in my head, and I need to write  it as a form of exorcism:

Dear Pilot Guy,

Today I was doing some housecleaning.  The thought of you crossed my mind two or three times.  It wasn’t until I got to my balcony that I was really hit by a memory of you.  I found a cigarette butt.  Your cigarette butt.  I was transported to those oh-so-happy days when I had you here.  I saw you sitting out there, cigarette in hand, watching the news.  You looked up from your iPad when I came to the door.  You smiled, that crooked smile that I’m sure no one craves more than me.

I guess that memory, along with the others, will start to fade soon.  I don’t want them to, though.  I want to keep the memory of you looking at me when I woke up next to you on my bed.  Your arm reaching out to me and pulling me closer so we could spoon for a little while.  If I have to be honest, I want most of all to keep the memory of your body pressed against mine, of us having sex, of you moaning in pleasure, of our bodies spent after so much desire.

Then I think of you.  I wonder if you review your memories of me.  I’m sure you do.  There’s a particular one that I really hope torments you daily.  There’s a certain elevator where we shared our first crazy, passionate kiss.  It’s there, at the airport where you land every day.  The one you take off from every day too.  I imagine you, in your pilot’s uniform, the mandatory sunglasses, coming out of your gate.  I imagine that you walk around the airport thinking of whatever thing it is you think.

Absentmindedly, you walk up to the elevator, push the button and wait.  The doors open.  You look in.  Start to walk towards it, but a flash stops you dead in your tracks.  You see us inside.  Me against the wall.  You pushing me in.  Kissing with desperation.  You see me pushing you  away to the opposite wall.  Here your imagination takes over.  I walk towards you on the other side of the elevator.  I kiss you again.  You try to put your hands around me to pull me in, but I take hold of your hands and push them away.  I start playing with your belt, and you get alarmed.  After all, this is just a two story building.  Someone is bound to come in the elevator any moment now.

I don’t care.  That actually makes it more exciting.  You smile, loving how I can be such a naughty girl wrapped in these very respectable looking skin tight white jeans and flirty navy blue shirt.  My hand starts making its way down your pants and you just let go.  I own you now.

People push past you.  They wake you up from your reverie, looking at you as if they thought you were scared of going in the elevator.  You shake the image from your head.  Once again, you decide not to go in.  Maybe some day the memory will fade, the fantasies will subside, and you will ride the elevator again.

You turn around and decide to get a coffee and wait your time out until your next flight.  You walk into the coffee shop.  Can’t help but look at the table where we sat and shared a chocolate chip cookie.  You see me licking the melted chocolate off your fingers.  You reach in for my mouth and lick the chocolate from my lips.  We kiss as passionately as our first kiss back in the elevator.

An airport for everybody, a “funhouse” for you.

Will not go down without a fight!

29 Nov

I can recognize the absurdity of this, but bear with me.

I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, because that is what people say when they are thinking about doing something for way too long without actually doing it.  I’ve been thinking about creating a separate blog to share with you guys the erotic story I started writing with Pilot Guy.  My purpose?  I want to make sense of what happened.  I want the world to read the story and to comment about it.  I want you guys to put in your own two cents.  I want to expose the connection that we made, and if in the process he finds out about it, I hope that he will see it too.

I still want this guy, hence the absurdity of it all.  What happened with Pilot Guy is still doing things to my heart, and it’s only fair that  he hears about it.  In my fantasy, he finds out about the blog, and decides to talk to me.  The result of that, I don’t want to imagine.  I am aware of my use of the word “fantasy.”  I know this is a long shot, but I won’t let it go just yet, cause this is a story worth continuing.

All I need from you guys is that you visit my new blog, read it, and comment.  Share the story with others and help me get as many people reading as possible.  However, the contents of that blog are pretty graphic and sexually explicit.  If you have any qualms about reading an intimate erotic exchange, do not visit the new blog. (I’m talking to you, my only friend who knows my identity and follows this blog.)

So, without further ado, I present to you:  Mercedes and Jack

Because being with him was like nothing I ever felt before.

Filthy, two legged rat!

1 Nov

I am really going through the stages of grief faster than I can write blog posts.  Getting dumped by every Tom, Dick, and Harry I’ve dated is one thing, but loosing my Pilot Guy has been a little harder on me.  I already did the melancholy, denial, and guess what stage I’m in right now…


Two legged rat
by Paquita la del Barrio, translated by Caramelo (me!)

Filthy rat,
crawling animal,
live’s scum,
badly made monstrosity

hellish specter,
damn vermin,
how much pain you have caused!

venomous snake,
live’s waste,
I hate you and despise you!

Two legged rat,
I’m speaking to you,
because a crawly bug,
even being the damnedest,
compared to you,
falls short

Damn bloodsucker,
damn cockroach,
you infect wherever you bite,
you hurt and you kill

venomous snake,
live’s waste,
I hate you and despise you!

Two legged rat,
I’m speaking to you,
because a crawly bug,
even being the damnedest,
compared to you,
falls short

You’re hearing me, useless,
hell’s hyena,
how I hate you and despise you!

The queen of first dates, the mistress of desertion

28 Oct

Lately I’ve been reading some of my old posts, and I realize that there are some stories that I’ve left untold.  Let me right that wrong swiftly so that I can get to the bigger issue:  why the fuck am I being deserted by every single man I date?

So, I’ve told you guys about Coffin Island Guy, he’s the one I met while on a group date.  After we met, I invited him on a day trip with some friends to the small Coffin Island off the southern coast.  We had the greatest of times on this paradise island.  After that, we had one or two more dates and all of a sudden, he started ignoring my texts.  He later said he was concerned that I was getting too attached and that he was only interested in casual dating.  It made me uncomfortable that he had assumed that.  I was having fun with him but didn’t want a serious relationship at the time.  We agreed that neither of us wanted a relationship, but we enjoyed each others company, so we kept it a casual relationship.

Then one fine day, Coffin Island Guy dropped a bomb on me.  He had decided to get serious with another girl he’d been casually dating too.  There could be “friend dates” with me, but no more “sex dates.”  This really hit me hard.  I knew I never wanted a serious relationship with him cause he’s eight years younger than me and wants to have kids, which I don’t.  Still, it hurt not to be the “chosen one.”  This thing about having someone choose me over others, having someone saying he can’t live without me, started to really bug me and made me feel so low and undesirable.  I realized I wanted to try out that relationship thing after all.  I wanted to start looking for someone that would choose me over all others.

Coffin Island Guy’s girlfriend phase lasted a week, and we got back to our comfortable routine of staying over, having diner, and sex.  However, I knew this comeback wouldn’t last so I decided to create and online dating profile.  The first guy was Six Kids Guy.  For our second date we had a bottle of wine, great music, and good conversation on his balcony.  We had sex and got hooked on sexting too.  After two weeks, he told me his ex-girlfriend had asked him for a second chance and he’d said yes.  Once again, some other girl was chosen over me.  It made me feel even more undesirable to be passed on in favor of a girl he had already broken up with once.

Football Guy was the next one.  We clicked online and, after two failed attempts to meet, he invited me for diner at his place.  We had the sweetest of dates.  He made lasagna, and I brought tiramisu.  We lounged on his couch while he explained to me the rules of football, cause it’s not a popular game on my island.  We made out, and it was sweet.  I didn’t want to have sex on the first date, but after a while, I just caved in.  The week after, we made plans to go out, but he “fell asleep and couldn’t call me.”  I texted saying that that excuse wasn’t enough for me, and that it showed I wasn’t important enough.  He never texted back.  It hurts to not know who or what was chosen over being with me.

Then came Air Controller Guy.  He texted daily, sometimes more than once a day.  He said his only interest was a friendship, to have someone to hang out with.  I felt so tired of trying to get something serious going, I agreed to go out with him as friends only.  We had brunch, and it was nice and comfortable.  Conversation flowed and we had a lot of laughs.  This was a month ago.  I have heard from him maybe twice.  Can it get worse?  Even when the interest is only friendship, I get the boot.

Finally, I met Pilot Guy.  I can’t even recount his story.  It’s a fresh wound of which I have written three posts already.  Every logic in the world tells me that he has already not chosen me.  However, I still have hope that at the end of this month, like he said, he will contact me and we’ll talk.  This is the guy I want.  Everyone else pales in comparison.  No one else will do, but my experience tells me that I won’t be his choice either.

Oh, and Coffin Island Guy?  I think he’s in love with another girl, and we haven’t seen each other in a month.

Guys chart

These are my pathetic stats.

I can’t help but share Silvio with you guys

23 Oct

Oh, dear deity!  How is it that this Cuban singer can sing what’s in my heart?  The words are not his, the writer’s name is Noel Nicola, but I am partial to Silvio and his interpretation of the song.

Es más, te perdono
by Noel Nicola, sung by Silvio Rodríguez, translated by yours truly

I forgive you for the bunch of words
you have whispered in my ears
since I’ve known you.
I forgive you for your photos and your cats,
your diners out,
the beers and cigars.  Even more,
I forgive you for the way you walk,
your shoes made of clouds,
your teeth and your hair.
I forgive you your hundreds of reasons,
for the thousand problems.
Finally, I forgive you for not loving me.
What I won’t forgive you
is you kissing me with such treachery.
I have witnesses:  a dog, the dawn, and the cold.
That, I really won’t forgive,
because if I do, I will surely forget it too.

I am in such an unforgiving mood tonight…

I want my Pilot Guy!

18 Oct

Every day we wrote to each other. Right away we fell into an exciting routine, exchanging explicit messages laced with romanticism and unspoken hope. It felt as if it had always been like that, like we belonged, like our minds had found each other after searching for so long. It was sweet and fulfilling, and I never wanted it to end.

After his visit, he unclicked. All that excitement, all that want, vanished from his messages until his messages slowly vanished too. This left me on shaky ground. What was I supposed to do when he promised he wouldn’t break my heart, but it felt like it was breaking?  I can’t even continue writing the sex story we had begun to write together because it hurts too much to remember how it all started.

He said this was not a good moment for him.  After things get settled at work, he’ll let me know and we’ll talk. He is about to get some life changing news that are coming too soon after a move that took him from the world he always knew to my corner of the Caribbean. I understand his anxiety. I also understand that it seems to be in his nature to run away when things get complicated in his life. Apparently it’s difficult to change what you have been doing since you were a teen. Maybe that’s why he’s a pilot too.  He can fly away at any given time.

I don’t mean to act as if I was all that important for him. He had just met me, and even though I feel like I know him, I had just met him too.  I wonder if we’ll talk ever again.  I’d like to know if he has thought of me, at least once in the time that we haven’t exchanged any messages.  I want him to say that, yes, he misses me as much as miss him, and that he never wants to miss me again.

He has to come back to me, because the characters in our story were left speeding away in car in search of a drug lord who has secret information about a worldwide conspiracy.  These stories can’t be left unfinished.

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