I just stumbled on this post I wrote in February 2013 in my “drafts” folder…. There’s LOTS of these….
For years, I was a cheating piece of shit (CPOS). I don’t judge – I don’t dare judge anyone, ever. (Except once in a very great while, if I’m off my meds.) But lately, I’ve been struck by the very different attitudes toward fidelity, honesty and commitment among people in general, and distant buddy readers of this blog, in particular.
(And a note: for whatever reason, lately quite a few readers have sought to establish flirty relationships with me. You know me – I love that shit. Not least – but certainly not mostly – because it gives me stuff to think, and to write about).
Anyway, in recent days, three different distant buddy relationships have come to a close, and each has featured a radically different relationship to honesty, fidelity, and commitment. In ways that have me thinking.
My relationship with H, the longest-standing of my distant buddy relationships, recently ended in a sort of convulsion. I can’t say I entirely understand what happened, but then again, I can’t say I ever really understood our relationship – what she got out of it or what I did. (Another day, perhaps I’ll write about that.) H is a young single woman, constantly horny, almost always desperate to be spanked, hard. Often, she would message me, “I need to be fucked,” or “I’m so horny.” She lives a few hours away – close enough that the fact we never fucked is evidence, probably, of each of our ambivalence about actually meeting. But almost daily she would say, “If you come here, you can do whatever you want with me,” or some such. She seemed to imagine I live in a world much more like the one I used to live in, in which I would drop anything and everything for pussy, regardless of the consequences for my family. But now? If I’m going to spend a night out, it takes planning. And more than that, it just doesn’t happen before the kid’s abed, unless it’s somehow a quickie during the day. Which is really hard in the current configuration of my life, for a whole host of reasons. Now, I told H this; I told her that I couldn’t just up and leave town. But she asked, over an over. Not in a way that, ultimately, was so flattering – not like, “I need you so bad, and I know that it’s really fucking hard, but you need to find a way because damn it, I need you.” No, it was more like, “I don’t get why you think that whole kid/wife thing is such a big deal when I’m fucking horny. Can’t you just forget about them?” In some ways, this was my biggest problem with her, the fact that she seemed utterly uninterested in the circumstances of my life. Like I said, I think I’ll likely write more about her soon, because – well, because I have thoughts and feelings, and when that happens, I usually write here. But suffice it to say, I think the reason we ultimately convulsed out of our old pattern was because she found it painful to read about V here. I guess it’s a testament to my continuing blindness that this surprises me – that a woman whom I’ve never met, who came to know me through this blog, would find a relationship of mine described here on the blog problematic. But hey – I never claimed not to be blind.
The second in order of longevity of tenure was another woman, I’ll call N (why should I be the only one?). She lives a bit further away than does H, and our relationship was, in many ways, much more intense. N was looking for a dom, not just a “distant buddy.” She wanted me to dominate her, to guide her. She’s physically spectacular, and she found my writing compelling, but we had a hard time connecting. She would be baffled and frustrated by my answers to her questions; I was baffled and frustrated by her answers to mine. For the better part of two weeks, she determinedly executed my instructions, doing as I asked, no matter how bold, or time-consuming. This fed me in all sorts of ways; it seemed to feed her, too.
She’s married. Her husband had no clue of any of this. And from the outset, this was a problem for me. Not an “I think you’re a bad person” problem – no, as I wrote above, and elsewhere here, I try hard not to judge. No, it was a problem because I actually know someone who was on the wrong side of an “alienation of affections” case once, and I have no desire to be a target, either of a lawsuit or of a cuckolded and angry man. I think that, from her perspective, this was a non-issue: she didn’t conceive of what she was doing with me as “cheating.” For me, it was fucking huge.
The whole time that L and I were dating, I was crystal clear that it was vitally important to me that if, at any point, her husband read her e-mail or texts, he would not feel I had in any way “done him wrong.” And he had given his blessing to our fucking! I simply couldn’t live up to that standard with N, and that, I think, may well have ultimately tied my hands too much. (There’s also the fact that, early on, she confessed to loving Ayn Rand, and I honestly think that if there were one author who might be an instant disqualifier for me, it’s Ayn Rand, but hey….) Anyway, just a few days ago, she gave up on me, concluding that I just wasn’t offering what she seeks, that she needs a greater sense of emotional connection to her “dom.” I totally understand this (although I have a lot more to say, and perhaps will, some day, on this particular subject). She fired me, telling me I’m not the dom she needs, and the truth is, for all the reasons I laid out above, I was at least partly relieved.
And then, the third. In some ways, she’s the most interesting of the three, because she was a super-bright, super-quick, flash in the pan. Call her C. She wrote, confessed all sorts of shit, and then said goodbye, saying “I am hurting my husband, and I am not going to do that,” all in the space of less than four days. I had the sense that it was a bit of a big deal for her, both to contact me and then to walk away. I was disappointed, because what she offered was something… different… than what I’ve had before. Without going into details. But it was tempting, titillating, exciting.
Now here’s my take-away from all this. As of today, I have no distant buddies with a tenure of greater than, say, a week. Except for A Thousand Miles Away, who ticks along, sending me a picture or two a week, but with zero emotional content – there’s just not much there there with her. There’s a woman who’s sent me a couple of orgasms that you’ll shortly hear, along with a hot story. And there’s Mara, far away, and (very) intermittently compliant (but very hot, and we fucked twice). But that’s really it. A big change from previous times, when I had one or even two simultaneous very close, very intense, distant-buddy relationships.
And that’s just fine with me. V is keeping me pretty fucking busy. And I am, after all, married, to a phenomenal, and compelling, woman.
There’s something really fun for me about a distant buddy, a hot woman with whom I can engage sexually, with whom I can explore “new relationship energy,” but do so in a way that doesn’t involve a late night, being apart from my family, or any of that. The truth is, it’s fun just to trade pictures, to get to know someone new, sexually, and if she’s not actually sucking my cock, it turns out, that’s ok. (My cock’s still getting sucked, so I’m good….)
But I’ve been trying on my slut uniform with distant buddies, and, just as it doesn’t work so good with regard to actual fucking, I’m coming to see it doesn’t work so good with distant buddies, either. See, if we’re going to be distant buddies, we have to connect. I connected with P, she of the “Folly” series – I had the sense we would really have been friends had we lived in the same time zone. And had she not found it impossible to reconcile being friends with me and having a boyfriend at the same time. And with one other, S, about whom I never wrote much, but who, similarly, abandoned her friendship with me once a boyfriend came on the scene.
It’s telling that the distant buddies with whom I’ve connected best have been the ones who couldn’t reconcile an ongoing relationship with me with deception of their partners. (And, that somehow ALL of the women with whom I’ve connected best have been women who think of themselves, ultimately, as monogamous – who knows what that’s about….)
Turns out, the honesty and disclosure that I’m so lucky to have with T is unusual.
And tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. In celebration of which? I’m gonna go be with my wife. Good night.