I had a great date, and then, I found myself confronting how much I fucking hate rejection and abandoment. Even as it’s not clear that either is happening.
It was a Tinder date. I wasn’t especially optimistic, and, it turns out, I had good reason not to be especially optimistic. I really should trust my gut.
In the end, Nastya made me feel unimportant. Not exactly undesired, just not prioritized, somehow disrespected. And so I ended things. Or let her end them. I’m not sure which.
An examination of all of the sensations associated with rejected or abandoned. Or imagining I have been.
A few days ago, I found myself in a circumstance where I thought it likely I might encounter the Porcelain Doll. You may recall, things didn’t end so well between us. I had given how things went down (how she didn’t go down) some considerable thought over the last few months, and, a few hours […]
Last week, I wrote a (somewhat hurried, incomplete, poorly edited) post about a recent instance of my being “rejected.” It struck a nerve among a few of my (female) readers, who provided some thoughtful, and harsh, comments to me – some, on the blog; others, offline, via back channel. First, foremost, let me say this: […]
Years ago, I paid her. She sucked my cock. I licked her clit. We had adventures with several other women. She wanted to be hit more, harder, than any woman I’d been with previously. She taught me a lot about submission and, along the way, about dominance. I introduced her to the world of “massage” […]