The lure of ambivalence

There was lots of back and forth. She was interested, then not. Then again, then not.

She’s sexy – strawberry blonde/reddish hair. She sent super-hot pictures. Then she stopped. Then she started again. Then she told me she couldn’t any more. Because Sony. (She became anxious about her account’s being hacked, her nudie shots being spread around.)

She met me having packed a bag with several different outfits – including a girl scout uniform in which she had shown me a picture of her most excellent round breasts peeking out.

But she wasn’t – at all – sold on an actual sexual encounter with me. I’m not sure I was either, with her.

We sat down to drinks, and the chemistry was entirely absent. It wasn’t just that there wasn’t chemistry – it was as if she were an asexual being. There was no sexual vibe to be had. At. All.

Was this a reaction to me somehow? Was it preordained? I couldn’t really know. She had brought the bag, but she had done so seemingly reluctantly.

She’s pretty – her eyes are excellent, and it was she who inspired my recent post on eye contact. (“I’m grateful you’re good at eye contact,” she said to me right after declining to suck my cock.) She’s good at eye contact too, and not once did she look down and to the side (another indication we were going nowhere.)

We sat and talked for several hours, several drinks. After she had shut the door on the possibility of sex, the chemistry actually ticked up a notch or two. Her legs spread a bit, and our legs pressed against one another.

She’s on a bit of a journey of self-discovery. I’m not sure I know all what she’s exploring, where she’s headed. But I know this, about myself: there is (sadly, unfortunately, unhealthily) not much that I find more compelling than a woman who might, under certain circumstances, want to go to bed with me.

That’s some toxic shit for me.

And if she’s got awesome curves, and pretty skin, and is smart, and interesting, and fun, and funny? I’m screwed.

But that’s where we left it.

The truth is, we won’t go to bed together. I know that.

But it makes me sad. Because she’d be fun.

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