Aug 072009

I “went out” last night with Steven (mentioned in Yes I Am A Masochist post). We “went out” as per usual, meaning that he came over, we watched something on the TV, and we had sex.

I had approached this date as I would a good friend. I barely got fixed up. Of course did the requisite “pre-sex” shower and shave, but put on some regular shorts and a $5 tank top. I put just enough makeup on to hide any blemishes, and a spritz of perfume, but thats about as far as I went.

I was still mad at him actually from the “incident” on Friday. On Friday night, I was 2 blocks from his apt with a friend at a local pub. I of course had been drinking, but not enough to impair me. Since I was so close to his place, I sent him a txt and invited him to join us. He’d previously stated he was bored at home and just watching TV and playing XBOX. Since I also knew he was poor and scraping to get by, I offered to buy him a beer. He asked me all about why I was there, and where, and what.. and who, but never said “Yes I’m coming.” or “No, I can’t make it”. So I waited, while drinking a beer of course, for the answer.

After about 45 minutes, I finally txt’d him saying, “Could at least let me know if you’re coming or not?”

He txt’d back. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting for a response.” and then “No, I’m not coming.”

WTF???? I was mad. Seriously, a girl asks you out for a beer and you don’t think it needs a response?

So by the day before yesterday, I was pretty much unsold on him, but I still remembered that hug and the sex we’d had before. I really wanted sex, and since my normal “Friend with Benefits” was busy til next week when I’ll be busy, I decided that Steven might be a good solution. So I invited him over.

The thing that I really love about Steven is this. He cuddles platonically. He’ll hold me while we watch TV and not push it into more. I honestly can’t remember the last man I was with before him where I felt that safe. Having endured molestation as child, one of the bigger issues in my relationships is generally around my not wanting to be touched. And its not really that I don’t want to be touched, its just that most men don’t understand the difference between a safe cuddle and a groping one. When in the past I’ve tried to explain it, they get offended as if I don’t like their touch. *sighs* So it was extremely great that Steven was just naturally a platonic cuddler.

So we cuddled for a while. It was truely platonic, as I’d seemed to lose any real romantic ideals about him. He wasn’t going to be a long-term thing, and I was pretty certain he wasn’t going to be a short-term thing either. Just merely a friends with benefits thing, maybe.

And maybe it was my emotional state or outlook, but when we did finally have sex, it wasn’t as good as I remembered. Maybe I was just sex starved before, maybe I’m just over him, or maybe I’m just seeing things without my rosy glasses.

Though there was a funny moment. Or at least it was funny to me. I actually had to keep from laughing.

After we’d finished having sex and cleaned up, we were lying in bed and Steven starts talking. Normally after sex, men just stop talking. I vaguely remember after our first bout of “dating” that Steven and I would talk a little after sex, but I don’t remember much conversation. This time Steven was off on a monologue.

His phone got shut off. He only owes $180, last time it was $300 before they shut it off. He wanted to win a small lotto, like $10k and then he’d be able to pay off all his debts. He then admitted that even if he won $10k that he’d probably be stupid and buy a new camera (he’s a photographer part-time, and works a cashier job as well) or some new computer gadget. He complained that he needed to get more motivated and find a real job in his area of study. (He has a bachelors degree) That maybe then he’d get paid more and be able to afford things. He complained about the people who came in and purchased $3k in appliances. They pissed him off, because he can’t do that.

He went on and on for what seemed like ages, and I was about to fall asleep the minute we finished with sex. So I almost started laughing at his chatter. Here I was being the man and wanting to fall asleep after sex, while he was being the woman and chatting up a storm.

I’m not sure if I’ll see him again. I might in a moment of loneliness need some human contact, but he’s not on my first choice of people to call. Maybe I am a man after all.

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