Have you read her blog? She’s a crazy-oversexed Brooklyn woman, married. She wouldn’t fuck me, because her basic rule is, I only fuck guys with a six-pack. And while I’m fit, and not fat, I don’t have a six-pack.
And the truth is, I’m not sure I’d fuck her. My basic rule is, I’ll fuck (or go down on, and allow to suck my cock) any woman who’s willing to do precisely as I say. And she’s no sub. (I sometimes joke that I have a policy – that any woman who wants to suck my cock may do so.)
Also too? She’s my height. Which puts us both out of one another’s preferred height range. This is not generally a deal-killer for me, but it is a potential dampener of my enthusiasm. And hers.
AND…. most important, her relationship to men, to cocks, to sex, is almost diametrically opposed to mine. She collects sexual experiences like notches on a bedpost, with a lack of sentimentality and emotional engagement that’s admirable to me, that’s enviable to me, but that’s foreign to me and, ultimately, a turn-off.
I’ve said it before, but what I crave in sex is the sensation that I am the center of the fucking universe for the woman or women I’m with. I use the word “slut” in my tag line, but I’m really not. Sex matters to me. The people I have sex with matter to me. (Yeah yeah, I’ve had sex with two or four women I met in a sex club or at a sex party, women whose names I never learned, but that’s not – at all – my norm. It’s so far from my norm that, when it happens, it’s notable.)
Her blog makes clear that the men she fucks are manifestly not the center of her universe, but rather, asteroids streaking by in the night, cocks she uses to amuse herself, not unlike (disposable, cheap) toys.
All that said, she is hot, and the potential opportunity to slide my cock past her lips is compelling.
We’ve met twice. The first time, for reasons neither of us recall (maybe it was the six-pack issue, though I think the first time may well have been before she crystallized that particular criterion), we didn’t fuck.
When we met for the second time, she didn’t remember whether we had fucked or not previously. (“Did I fuck you?” she asked.)
While I couldn’t count the women I’ve fucked in my life, I’ve never found myself unsure as to whether I’ve fucked a particular woman. The idea that, sitting across from one another, she might – without any embarrassment – ask if we’d fucked just… turns me off. And impresses me. And makes me envious.
She boasted on her blog just today that she’s “slept with 600 people.” If I had to guess how many women I had fucked – that’s penis-in-vagina fucked – I’d say the number is somewhere south of a hundred. Of course, given the years I spent paying for handjobs and blowjobs, the number of women with whom I’ve done those things is much higher. But even among that crowd, I remember who sucked my cock, who stroked it, who did both. Maybe not in an “I could produce a comprehensive list” kind of way, but certainly in a “If I had a drink with her in a bar, I’d remember” kind of way.
PV wants something from me. Something not sexual. I find myself chafing at giving it to her.
I thought, for a bit, about demanding one or seven blowjobs as “compensation” for what she wants from me. (She actually floated the idea. Appending a not-very-convincing “just kidding,” as if to maintain plausible deniability.)
But for two very different reasons, I feel myself coming down on the side of not giving her what she wants from me, blowjob or no.
First, what she wants feels to me dehumanizing, annihilating. I know this is entirely in my head. The truth is, what she wants from me is something I freely give you – my words. But the form in which she wants them feels bad to me. I know myself well enough to know that I should spend some time examining this sense, that she’s not asking me for anything I don’t freely, happily give you. So I need to examine just why it is, what it is about how she’s asking for them, what she wants to do with them, who she is, that makes me feel so very… icky.
And second, there’s the blowjob question:* maybe there’s a deal to be had, maybe there’s not. I don’t know. She might be joking, she might not. I might be joking, I might not. As I said above, on the one hand, I have a policy when it comes to women and blowjobs – and particularly when it comes to hot women and blowjobs. But my gut tells me that while she might well be very talented with her mouth, we might be a very poor oral sex match. For one, she doesn’t want me to go down on her – she doesn’t enjoy receiving. WTF? And second, she’s just not submissive. There’s something about sexual aggressiveness, stripped of submission, that I find difficult, unattractive. I’ve written a bit about this before. Never mind her looks (she has high cheekbones, bright eyes, nearly flawless skin, and a great ass) – if she’s sexually aggressive with me, we’ll be a bad match. Period.
And above all….
There’s something so anathematic to me about the clinical, commodified way she relates to her sex partners. I don’t want that.