I always meet incredibly handsome people online. Their gender doesn't matter and it's never a problem for me to pull the hottest people in my circle (and sometimes outside of it). But being a bad bitch doesn't mean I'm exempt from meeting... special people.
I'd just cut ties with the guy who lived in his mother's basement and lied about being thirty when he was actually fifty-five. I'm not sure about anyone else, but every break-up I've ever been through, it took me at least a few months to put myself back together; This time, though, I thought I'd do something different. I took note of a quote, "If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten," and decided I would immediately jump back into dating. This was, arguably and admittedly probably not the best decision I could have made but... hindsight is 20/20, correct?
So I met another guy on Twitter. This one was even hotter than the factually-older-but-theoretically-cool guy and seemed to have more going on for himself. He was ex-military and had been back from Iraq for quite a while. We waited a week or so to start talking on the phone (Hey! It's better than 18 hours!) and immediately things became sexual. I hadn't come out to him yet so I couldn't attribute this to anything other than A. he was horny and/or B. he was horny.
We didn't know each other well enough for him to be sexually attracted to me in the individual I-genuinely-like-you-as-a-person way, so I figured it was the Hole and A Heartbeat thing. Which, by the way, was fine with me at this point; More than anything, I was lonely, and it was nice to have someone pay attention to me, call me every day, text me every morning, and want to talk about oral sex all the time. It was nice.
But I noticed, during our brief but awesome 3 month long phone affair, there was always something weird going on in the background when we talked. It was like he was at a party, a bank robbery and a zoo all at the same time. Even when we had phone sex, it never quieted down. There was always someone screaming, animals running at top speed, cars and movies and other phones ringing, but he never tried to go to a more secluded place. I mean, imagine saying the most X-Rated things you can think of while the fight scenes from this summer's most action packed movies play at the highest volume...and you're sitting next to eight of your best friends. I can't help but grimace whenever I think of this and what must have been happening during our conversations.
Around our second week of talking, he started to call me at really odd hours. He'd call me at 4 in the morning, crying and telling me he'd had a really bad nightmare or flashback and he just "really needed" me. Which, of course, come on, let's be honest: It was the most beautiful thing I'd heard in a long time. I couldn't believe this lovely, smart, well-read, take charge, handsome, tattooed daddy type was putty in my hands and just wanted to cry into my ample bosom and have aforementioned sobbing turn into really weird sex that included a lot of rimming.
Like...a lot of rimming.
A weirdly high amount of rimming.
He was the first man I'd ever dated (I acknowledge we were never physically in the same place so "dating" is arguable) who was interested in rimming at all, especially receiving said rim, so it was a turn on at the beginning. When I looked back and realized we talked about him receiving previously mentioned rim every single time we had phone sex, I thought, "Hm. Interesting." I couldn't possibly think it was weird, especially considering the kinds of things I like, but one thing I had no issue considering odd was this sound he would make during our interactions. At first I didn't say anything because I thought maybe he had an odd breathing pattern; plenty of people sound like sick cows during their sexiest moments. I suppose it's simply the human condition.
He would make this noise. Almost like he'd put the phone into his mouth whilehe was having an asthma attack. It sounded like three people were hyperventilating at the same time -- in surround sound, with Beats audio to enhance it. It sounded like he was on his way to heaven. It sounded like he was about to have a praise break and shout, "I'm Goin On To Glory, Lord!" It sounded like he was at a T.D. Jakes revival and he'd just caught the spirit, but it wasn't the Holy Spirit. It sounded like he was possessed with something that had real and true sinus issues and there was a lot of pollen in the air in hell. I could never figure out how he was making this noise or whether he was going to die before we finished. There were times when I almost couldn't finish because I was so concerned with this noise and his irregular breathing patterns.
One month into our chit chats, I finally said, "What are you doing? Hahahahah, my goodness that noise is crazy!"
"Oh that? It's probably my dogs," was his reply. Just that. Nothing more. Oh it's nothing! Just my dogs so close you can hear them breathing.
"Your dogs? Plural? How many do you have?"
"Uh...yeah. There's four of them," he said. "Mmmm, baby you get me so hot!" He continued, trying to get me to get started again.
But I was stuck on the dogs. I was stuck. I couldn't figure out what was happening and how it was happening and, most importantly, why it was happening. So I asked him, "What...are...what are the dogs doing there, honey?"
"They have separation anxiety. I never make them leave me. So they're here just laying with me, playing around. Don't worry it's nothing gross!"
He was laughing and I knew he was telling the truth.
It was nothing gross, just a grown man. Laying in his bed. Masturbating. Talking about rimming. With four dogs in the bed. At the same time. Breathing into the phone.
Yeah. Nothing weird about that at all.
