Getting to know you

I’m creative. My interactions with every woman are different, depending on the woman, my mood, our history, our relationship. But there are, as regular readers know, a number of constants in my interactions.

Today, I’d like to share a little about the themes, strategies, and requests that typically characterize my early attempts to get to know a woman. They have evolved over the years, and while they aren’t as simple as a roadmap or checklist, they’re frequent enough, constant enough, to be informative about the way I think.

First, foremost, we need to be able to interact in words. Tinder chat, texting, e-mail (far and away my preference). I need to get a sense of your voice. Not quite yet the sound of your voice – that’s next – but the way you express yourself, the way you respond and interact, the way you use words and form thoughts. If you use text-speak, if you can’t be moved off of it, we will never meet. There’s no judgment here. I just can’t tolerate it. It’s painful for me to read, and life is too short for unwanted pain.

If, on the other hand, you are thoughtful, polite, respectful, if you answer questions and have a few of your own, if you spell well and don’t say dumb, or offensive, or presumptuous shit, we are likely to hit it off.

Next up, I’ll likely want to hear your speaking voice. Voice is, as I’ve written, the greatest determinant of my attraction. Ideally, I’ll want to hear your voice while you’re touching your pussy. Why? Two reasons. First, because it’s fucking hot. And second, because it’s something – maybe the first thing – that you’ll do for me, because I asked. And that’s hot. This may not be comfortable for you. Many women are uncomfortable with this level of intimacy early in a relationship, before we’ve even met. That’s fine. I totally understand. As I’ve written, I don’t always expect you to say yes to me. In fact, saying no in the right way can be even hotter than simply giving me what I want.

Next up? Or maybe earlier, depending, I’ll want to begin to get a sense of how your desire works, what turns you on, what gets you wet. I might simply ask you to tell me. Or to show me. I might ask to see what you get yourself off to. I might ask you to select images from one of my Tumblrs that turn you on, and to tell me why, how. I might ask you to pick a post of mine you like. I might even ask you to read it to me. Probably, while touching your pussy.

At this point, I should stop to make an important point: you may have done some or all of this for me. It may be familiar. Often, women with whom I have sexual relationships have chafed at the extent to which they see me interact with others in ways that feel familiar. I wish this weren’t so, but all I can say is that, as formulaic and repetitive as I can be, every time I make these requests, it feels different to me. It’s telling that I don’t have a template that I copy and paste, a post that I refer women to, given how often, over the years, I’ve been fortunate enough to do this dance. And that’s a good analogy for how, for why, it’s not repetitive, it’s wrong to perceive me as simply playing out the same script over and over. Because it’s a dance. It’s highly scripted in some ways, sure, but it’s also different each time, with each partner. A swing dancer can do the same basic moves a thousand times with a thousand partners (or with the same partner) and, as much as it might look the same to an uneducated observer, the dancers know that each dance is unique. And, it’s not so much the fruits of all these requests that are the point – it’s the back-and-forth, the process of getting to know one another through these requests.

But back to the dance itself….

Early on, I want to know what your body looks like. This can be in words, it can be in pictures. I typically prefer pictures, and an unwillingness to provide them, though it’s something I completely, completely understand, is a hurdle for me to get over. If you’re not comfortable showing me your body, as I ask to see it, how you communicate that, how we navigate that challenge, will be diagnostic of our future. I will want to position your body for me. I will want pictures that are just for me, not taken for others. And I will want, surely, soon, to select some or all of the clothes you wear, at least on one day.

I will, throughout, be pushing you, asking you to do things for me. Small things at first, but increasingly, bigger things. I’ll ask you to come for me. I’ll ask you not to come for me. I’ll ask you how you come, how often, when, where.

I’ll be populating a mental map of your sexuality.

I won’t ask you about the sex you have, about the sex you have had. On some level, I have the fantasy that I’m the only man with whom you’re engaging sexually, and, notwithstanding my blog, I’ll strive to give you that sensation about me. If we are going to talk about your sex with others, I’ll likely want to know all about it, every detail you’re willing to share. Not because it will turn me on. It won’t. But because the trust it will show you placing in me, the privileged position in which it will put me, is a balm for the wound of the knowledge that I’m not the possessor of the only cock in which you are interested.

And soon, soon, if all this goes well, I’ll want to meet….


  1. This entry reminds me of the King James Bible: “In the beginning was the Word.” One cannot overstate the importance of good conversation in our libidinous pursuits.

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