Tag: Lars

the ones who get back in touch after a long hiatus

I got an extra long message from Lars but … since the break over the summer we’ve only met a couple of times.  I seem to have lost interest in having kinky sex.  Perhaps I was never really into it – merely curious.  My sexual appetite has found its staple and seem fairly happy to stay on it.

And then there’s Darren who, after his last indelicate text about STI, I’m not keen on at all, as anyone might appreciate; he still insists on writing provocative invitations to meet.   I have not been tempted and am now setting my course steadily with the few people I don’t consider a threat to my independence, but who are at the same time thoughtful and interested in me, enough at least to go out occasionally with.

just like that

Why hello, something a little cheeky –
he might be out of reach for the summer
but he’d very much still like to see me
some time in autumn, perhaps October.
But of course, I reply, since the new term
seems quite a long way away and who knew
what or who might happen in the meantime.
And just like that he’s got back in the queue
of suitable suitors of my choosing –
the kind of beau who’d let me name my date
satisfied that they will not be waiting
for too long before I their passions sate
As we consenting adults make merry
with one another without jealousy.

On relationships

Back in November/December last year when I was still hopeful of meeting the One, when the idea of polyamory was as alien as living on Mars, I recorded this in my diary:-

The fact is that dating many is really quite fun.  I can’t see myself settling down with any of these new dates or anyone for that matter.   It’s possible that I might find romance and love again but there’s no one at the moment who fulfils all my requirements.  Until then I dally and tarry with the ones who might do just for now.

With these I meet up, chat and share the odd evening together.   Of course it’s always fun going on dates and I allow, even indulge myself a fantasy that he might be the one as I prepare to see any one of my current beaux.  I still hedge my bets and don’t quite end things with 2 others and there is a possible 3rd in the wings as this is the time of year when everyone has already made plans, myself included of how we’re to spend the holidays – so as of the present I’ve yet to meet the next one.

My current favourite is a small bespectacled bald nerdy fellow who makes me laugh but seems the most emotionally balanced and kisses really well.  He doesn’t rush things, said that he would prefer not to enter into a physical relationship from the outset for fear that it clouded our reasoning and would rather that we take our time getting to know each other.  We have agreed to be honest about our intentions and he knows that I am keeping my options open and dating others.  He has said that he, on the other hand cannot juggle more than one relationship at a time and is not seeing anyone else.  I too am sceptical about the fate of this relationship because he does not have a good track record – the longest he has ever been with anyone was only 4 months!  But he admitted to being a late starter.

The one who is energetic has moved things up a gear and suggested a more intimate dating activity involving a massage.  I am not so naive to believe that a massage is all that it is.  I don’t feel ready to indulge beyond a massage myself and it will surely be a test of how much I like him enough to go further.

Looking back I do laugh at myself – the late starter bolted at the beginning of the year but has recently got in touch.  When I think of him I am reminded of wary animals in the wild that edge cautiously and circle whatever temptation may be on offer, ready to flee at the slightest threat.  The massage with the adventurer rapidly turned into something more intimate and it was I who fled the scene.

Last week Jan and I attempted to plan a holiday together but the dates have now been moved into the summer due to our separate domestic arrangements.  We made a loose date over the bank holiday weekend to continue discussions.    Max and I in the meantime have slowed down our dates to once a week and spend less time texting or emailing each other – the novelty of getting to know one another has worn off and perhaps the drifting away has begun.  Most of my relationships seem to follow this pattern – a heady start, cooling off and drifting apart followed by a re-acquaintance and friendship.  Where’s the elusive One?  It’s almost sine qua non that he must accept my continued friendships with past lovers.  Lars has an open relationship with his partner where they encourage each other to meet new people all the time.  Our relationship is purely sexual and I believe his partner does not feel threatened or jealous by it.  What is jealousy but a fear that someone else would take our place?  I used to have to coach myself against this negative emotion – it requires a great deal of self-belief and confidence in ourselves and our partners to overcome it – in any event, it’s a useless feeling and I’m less affected by it now even though it still lurks.

Lars fills a gap

Max and I were watching Blue is the warmest colour on netflix, on my laptop.  Suddenly there was a little ping and a tiny rectangle slid into view in the top right hand corner of the screen.  It was a message from Lars – Just got back from Belgium.  Feeling frisky xxLxX.  Just as well I believed in an honest and open relationship or it could have been an awkward moment.  Max took it with remarkable sangfroid.  The next day I replied to L’s message and suggested that I might be able to see him midweek, but that it might have to be another midnight tryst.

Suddenly though a previously arranged date was cancelled as  R bailed on me at the last minute pleading a head cold.  It was fairly timely just as Lars had put out his feelers to meet up.  I told him about the change in plans and he offered to cook for me again.   I went round with a bottle of Sancerre as he was making the finishing touches to a Flemish dish involving white asparagus. Mm one of my favourite vegetables.  He served it with mash and we talked mainly about the upcoming election.  He said he couldn’t imagine living in a borough which might return a Tory candidate. Not being British he did not have the right to vote but it was clear where his politics lay.

Lars lived in an unpretentious flat in an ex council house block built in the 70s. It was all concrete and grey angularity. Inside though he had decorated it with African masks and artwork by friends.  There was a red hued almost life size portrait of a woman with her back to the viewer, her face half turned in profile. It was soft and drew you in with her demure glance. It hung in his small square dining room which opened out onto a bleak balcony with a view of a car park. In the next room Lars had his modular bed like sofa against a picture window with the same aspect as the balcony. Next to this window was an inky sketch of a fairly monstrous figure, the head bound in a misshapen head gear and triangular flaps at its arms hiding the hands. When Lars told me it was by the same painter responsible for the soft figure in red I couldn’t believe it at all.

After the meal he brought out  an inhaling device which he filled with ganja.   We talked about his travel plans and his encouraging his  partner who was moving abroad, to find someone else there.  They would continue to see each other but obviously, with the distance, the regularity would be reduced.   When I told him about Max reading his text message he said something similar had happened when he received a message from me two weekends ago and he had been with his partner.  We both congratulated each other on our openness but I did feel slightly embarrassed that his partner had read my message.  We had moved to the sofa by then and the inevitable happened.  Later, at past midnight I kissed him goodbye and drove home.   In a few hours the polling stations would be open. And I will be going to Max’s later in the evening where he was holding a small party with his friends to receive some of the results.

delectable ways of spending a Monday night

The first time I initiated a date with Lars he invited me round for dinner. Previously, we’d met up at around half past ten or later but this time he suggested anything between half seven and eight. He was in the middle of cooking a risotto when I arrived. His brand of music was playing in the living room and it filtered easily through to the kitchen – how can I describe it? It has a bass beat, low, rhythmic and primal – that’s what you notice first and then the melody follows, there might be vocals or it could just be instrumental. He was drinking a Chablis but I’d brought over a bottle of Bordeaux so he poured me a glass of this as we chatted comfortably about his day, the collaborative efforts with colleagues, juggling responsibilities and deadlines and also my first day back at work after a three week break. He did not have to start until the following day, preferring to work at a furious pace a three day week thus affording himself the luxury of a four day weekend. My lover is a man of extremes.

Over dinner I learnt a little more about his current partner of over a decade and a half, how they’d met on a now defunct fetish website, the couples and people they encountered and continued their liaisons with. I shared a little more about myself, where I’m at and it forces me to think about what I want, what I’m hoping for. I tell Lars about the boundaries Max and I are constantly pushing against – that incident of cheek slapping which surprised the both of us at how much we found it arousing. In response to my question he tells me that he is a pleaser and would do anything that his partner wants.

Later, he ties me to his bed – there are metal rings riveted into the four corners and he has a very long black silky rope along with shorter greyish ones. The Boy Scout knots were a combination of secure and easily undone as I was to find out later. But first, having secured me on his bed his demeanour changed to stern and contemptuous. He lashed me not too gently with a leather whip whose end held easily twenty more lengths of leather – a sort of cat-o-nine-tails, but without the knots. It felt decadent and of course he also rubbed me gently and then a lot harder between my legs, taking turns with the whip and his hands. He had an out of this world vibrator ending in an attachment which stimulated all the essential parts of a woman. While ‘torturing’ me he would intermittently hold a length of rope taut against my throat for no more than half a second – it felt exciting and dangerous and titillating.

And then it was suddenly over and he swiftly pulled the ropes and my limbs were freed! He was sweetness and gentleness now and the kisses he caressed my body were soft and light.   Later we tidied up after ourselves and by the time I got dressed it was ten minutes to midnight – Cinders has had her ball.

Post Easter shuffling – who remains in the inner circle

I have now struck Darren off my shag portfolio.  That is my only option after getting the following email from him this morning:

Hey Amy

Some disturbing news.
Hope you are good. Sorry for not being in touch but had a few personal issues. 
I have a bad feeling that I may have caught something when we were together and worse that I may have passed it to my wife. I may be overreacting but best to be safe than sure. After our time together I began to feel a bit of an itch in my penis and ignored it at first. It then continued so thought I best get some antibiotics from online thinking it could have been a thrush sort of thing.  This seems to have done job but my wife has had tonsillitis like symptoms for several weeks that are not going away. Looking online this ‘may be’ gonorrhea like symptoms. I am obviously very anxious in case this is the problem. 

As you are the only one I have been with for a long time (>year), do you think you might get your self tested asap for your own benefit and to let me know. If you have got something you want to get rid asap before it does any harm.

You can get a home test kit online.

Please let me know. I hope it is not the case.

My thoughts ran along the lines of – what a paranoid ass.  He had not had the decency to go and get confirmation but was quite content to try and cast blame for his own and his wife’s symptoms.  It was just as well that I’d already received the all clear from the STI clinic and I had the pleasure of letting him know that, as well as throwing in the added sting that he could not be certain of course whether his wife might have picked her own symptoms up from elsewhere and that they might both wish to go and get themselves tested to be sure.

Jan in the meantime is now someone I see as an old friend and we seem to have so much more fun out of bed that we inevitably end up too exhausted to do anything else other than sleep when we do share a bed.  Lars by comparison I only see purely for sex.  I worry that I am too vanilla by comparison but it could be that vanilla is what he enjoys with me after his extreme jaunts with Madame et filles.

Max and I continue testing our boundaries in bed and trying out new adventures outside.  In the middle of one romp his slaps continued up my body from my bottom and we both shocked ourselves by enjoying his slaps on my cheeks.  We talked about this later and agreed that it wasn’t something we were that keen on and it was something of the moment.  The refrain – where will it end – was raised once more – might we try pressure elsewhere in future, his hands on my throat, for example?

Goran meanwhile, has invited me to meet him at a hotel this week.  Whether we end up in bed and how satisfying that experience will be is something I’m sceptical about.

Adventures with Lars

It was a while ago when Lars first wrote to me. We must have matched in terms of the answers we had given on the dating site and as to what we were looking for – sex in a non-monogamous relationship.  We agreed on a date some nearly two weeks ahead of our first few messages to each other and I didn’t hear from him much after that, unlike with some of the others at the time who engaged in a salacious exchange of messages, photos and videos.  We had established that we both wanted drama-free fun in the real world, sans jealousy and the sluttier the better.

He did send me a message while on the Eurostar pre-meeting up along the lines that he was getting fairly aroused merely thinking of me.  I was amused, gratified and quite prepared to indulge him, the character of Amy as a liberal sex vamp was still new and appealing to me at the time and I encouraged him to give an account of any slutty adventures he might enjoy on his trip.  We exchanged creative content and I learnt that he makes music which has a looping, rhythmic quality in a language I did not recognise.  He discovered that my appeal was that I lived only a couple of miles away from him – which meant spur-of-the-moment shags were easier to engineer.  During these message exchanges I had got to know him a little more and the little was enough to have persuaded me to accept his impromptu invitation to meet before our pre-arranged date.

This was at the end of last month two days ahead of our planned date, spontaneously,  in a part of London near his place of work. It was a Saturday afternoon however and the whole of London was crowded with people. We searched about for a suitable drinking hole until finally we came across a medium-sized bistro.

During the date he had told me more about himself – growing up in a part of Africa in an expat community and discovering as an adolescent the injustice of the situation; his rebellious streak and leaving home to put himself through university and now leading an academic’s life, with time for his music and sexual peccadilloes.  He told me of his open relationship with a dominatrix and their house in the country where they might occasionally host an orgy or two.  After polishing off the cheeseboard and a fairly decent bottle of puilly fuisse between us he invited me back to his.

We got into the tube and as he is considerably taller than me he went ahead on the escalators and we were able to kiss quite comfortably with me on the step above his.  At his house he poured us some red wine and we settled on his large bed-like sofa.  He put on some music and we kissed and undressed each other.  He removed his glasses, without which he looked even younger than his 46 years.  We explored each other’s bodies and I found that he had lovely smooth and strong hands.  I was very, very turned on and when he removed his pants I could see that he had a curved hard on, quite substantial in girth and length but not so large that I should worry about fit.  The curved part was most intriguing and reminded me of a horn.  It was incredibly delicious to ride him and he brought me to climax many, many times.  When he climaxed he made such a lot of noise that I was pretty certain his neighbours from the top of his road must’ve heard him!  I can say that he was the first vocally appreciative lover I’d ever had.  It was fabulous sex and later we talked a little and he showed me some of his toy collection which included tortuously high heeled shoes, a variety of restraints, whips and assorted vibrators.  I went home much later that evening and slept soundly.

The next meeting with Lars was another tryst arranged extempore – he had called me just before six o’clock to find out if I could see him that evening.  I was on my way to meet someone whom I had had a feeling would not be as fun and so I said yes after confirming that Lars was comfortable with seeing me straight after that.  I left my first date after we managed to find a suitable place for a quickie in cover of the dark in one of the parks, against a tree and went straight home for a quick wash before letting Lars know that I was on my way.

The following day he sent me effusive messages extolling the parts of me he had enjoyed the previous evening.  He continued sending me intermittent messages during his holiday in the French Alps and indicated a desire to meet up again on his return.  I’d got into a fairly confident routine with Lars, sufficiently that I was comfortable enough to reveal my real name to him.  He may yet become one of Amy’s regular lovers.

Just came through the tunnel with the train.  Almost in London now! Mmmm, can’t wait to see you again you naughty girl! Missed your juices and your amazing tits, bottom, lips and beautiful and cheeky smile!  How does today pan out for you?  Any chance of a visit …?

So it would appear that I might have a date that evening except that I already had a pre-arranged one at half past five in the afternoon. With dinner thrown in, … possibly. I guess I was mercenary enough not to jettison the dinner date however much the appeal of a fulfilling time was with Lars.  After all he could always be dessert, I reasoned.

The advantage of these spontaneous dates was that it lifted the day and added a little excitement to an otherwise dull one.  Having been out for a brief stroll and eaten a small lunch I wasn’t tempted to linger in the cold wind.  Moreover spring had brought with it the inevitable hay fever I suffer.  I tended to keep outdoor jaunts to a minimum then however tempting the weather.

I told my lover that I could be free later, much, much later that evening and suggested a midweek alternative.  He responded that he may have to come back to me on this as he had to check with his partner  – the divinely sexy madam dominatrix – this was the image I had of her as I had no idea what she really looked like since my lover is not sentimental and did not keep any photographs in his house, not that I’d noticed as we’d always been pretty much preoccupied with other more urgent business the few times I visited.

When I saw my lover that evening he was sporting a tiny bruise under his chin from the little skiing accident the week before.  Apart from that he was exactly the same and after a few exchanges of pleasantries we went straight into re-enacting the scene with the two-backed beast.  We were so hungry for each other’s touch that it was only much later when we were completely spent that I noticed he had very thoughtfully laid out some of his toys – a rope, a vibrator and some nipple clamps – oh well, next time perhaps…

Two dates in one day

This is not a first – I’d met one for the first time before who proved unsuitable – and arranged to meet another (Plan B with Lars) that same evening because the first date with him had proved exciting and fulfilling.  This happened two weeks ago when the one who got the 2nd date with Amy had shown me how positively different bedding a non-British man might be.  So I’d had high hopes when I agreed to meet Dilip – he was tall, dark and handsome, hailing from a dark continent.  Having arranged the date though he kept texting and attempting to call me – all of which I found just a little too tiresome and intrusive.  Even before we’d met he was also attempting to arrange 2nd and 3rd dates.  When we did meet up I found him verbose and a little over-energetic.  The final straw was the discovery that not only was he living with his mother but that he’d not had the foresight to make any arrangements or thought of how he planned to have the coitus he’d been promising we’d have.  He kept referring to spontaneity as the spice of life.  Now I’m all for a little, even a lot of spontaneous sex, however al fresco intercourse when the temperature outdoors is in the low single digits, coupled with a high windchill factor is not the best way to woo any girl unless they were a northern lassie perhaps.  So the promises came to nought as we seemed to be walking endlessly in search of suitable places to have our tryst – the clocks having gone forward did not help matters either.

So that evening with Dilip is better remembered for my hasty goodbye post-date and haring off northwards into the warm embrace of Lars who had music and chilled wine in a room which exuded a sexy atmosphere essentially through central heating and a modular sofa that configured into a giant size bed in the middle of his living area.  He was a charming host who entertained and allowed himself to be teased and remained satisfyingly priapic throughout the evening.  Undaunted, I continue to make dates with some of the men who introduce themselves and appear attractive except that now I check that they are able to host a tryst whether at home or at some other suitably warm venue.

So today I met one in the West End for a chaste afternoon tea at the National Gallery – my first date with Dexter.  We wandered amongst the nudes in oils on canvas and I thought him quite tall (6 foot) with a commanding presence and also very cute in a chiselled face, youthful with silver streaks and geeky glasses kind of way.  He suggested returning to his but I’d already promised Max earlier this morning that I’d see him tonight, so politely declined Dexter’s invitation.  We kissed goodbye and on the basis of that warm, soft and sensuous lingering of lips on lips I agreed to see him again next week.  Who knows what might be but Amy G will have to do some serious juggling if she were to continue to see all these men who have shown her a fabulous first and second date.