A Bad Man in a Bad Place

According to Mistress Matisse:

Catholics make the best perverts, and after that, Jews.

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As you may have guessed, I'm a nerdboy. I just finished Halo 3. Good game. Fun and engaging.

(Not everything in my life has to do with sex, you know... just most things)

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• ALPHASLAVE: a slave's perspective
• Training a slave by Jack Rinella
  (tags: bdsm)
• Bondage blog
  (tags: sex bdsm)
• My Blog: Guys
  First and only blogpost I've ever seen on Friendster that I thought was really well done. Worth reading.
  (tags: advice)
• BEST slave Training Home Page
  (tags: sex bdsm training domination slave)
• chicksnbreasts - Beautiful girls of Flickr, YouTube, and other sites
  NSFW best of the web of beautiful women found mainly on Flickr
  (tags: adult blog blogs Sexy sex women)
• flickrlicio.us
  More beautiful women of Flickr
• EROTICA CURIOSA
  NSFW pictures-blog. I'm always impressed with what I find here.

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Two hours into the night, she looks me in the eye and says "are we done talking yet?" and then kisses me.

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I started this evening by proposing that I write a personal ad with the title "willing to settle." Now, instead, I am inspired. Inspired by Venus. Actually, inspired by something she said to me:

You are just coming out of your twenties and are coming into your own. Men become men in their 30's. Now, you must find a woman who is also at the same stage of life as you. A girl in her twenties is a twit, they dont know if they are coming or going. There are some exceptions but I am of the mindset that a woman closer in age to you is what you should be looking for.

A fair point.

Now, my inspiration is broader, actually, than just Venus. It's Lex and Les. It's Lauren and Alchamides. It's also my parents, married 40 years this December, and this post by Irina in New York. It's the blonde I saw on the M5 today, carrying her groceries, about whom I thought "man, it would be nice to have someone to cook for and split errands with and share with." That was unexpected. I also thought "and she looks tall enough to put her legs over my shoulders" but of course, what else was I suppose to think? It was the first time in a long time that I looked at a woman and thought "hmm, share a life?" and not just "hmm, shiny thing."

Now I realize what my problem is, what my problem was with Surfette, and where I'm going to next. My problem? I'm tired of random bar-fucks. I've had a fair number of takedowns in bars, probably my share and maybe yours too, and I realize that the problem with it is that it's like cotton candy sex. Sure, it can be fun and hot and drunken and addlebrained, but as those of you who have had them can attest, you get sick if you have too much and it makes you hyper and gets to be too much pretty quick. I crave something deeper.

And my problem with Surfette? She was a "check the box" girl - she checked the boxes of the things that I'm looking for in a woman and I thought "well hell, so this could be it." Ever meet someone and in their story you're one thing, but in yours they're another? Yeah, in Surfette's story I was the bar hookup. In mine, she was too, until I got to know her and realized she was awesome. Mistake. I knew it was a mistake when I was out there and I bought a t-shirt (at her instance) that read "what do you expect, we met at a bar" and she pointed out that I should wear it to the bar I met her at to pick up women with. Voila, our stories were too different to reconcile.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not done prowling, not completely. I'm still me. But it's exhausting and getting to be less fun as I get older. I feel like, uh... when a cow gets old and loses an eye, or its ability to be milked, the farmer takes it and puts it in a different pasture so it won't have to... fight...with the priests. No, that's not it. I feel not bored either. But I feel like something's missing in what I've been doing. It was fun and all when I was younger, but I'm not that man anymore. We learn, we change. If we didn't we'd still be pissing our diapers, and the only people I know who do that are people who pay Mistresse Matisse good money for the opportunity. We learn. We grow. Our needs change. Shiny things aren't what I need right now - I need one ultra shiny thing. Clearly, it's pretty key that in the bedroom she wants to submit, but not to anyone, but to someone worth submitting to.

It hit me tonight at around 11:30 when I was in Times Square blowing off steam after a very long and work-laden weekend. Tai Chi, a half dozen friends from college, and a handful of friends from work are all having kids. Not just getting married, they're married already. Having kids. Except TaiChi, but he's engaged, and I always thought he was slower than the rest. Which means that I'm fairly well behind. Now, it's not a race, but it IS something to think about - I don't want to be 60 when my first child is 20 if I can avoid it. But by the same token, I'm not looking to settle down just because "it's time." Tricky and complicated, no? But then, it's hard work being me.

So why am I telling you this? Because the Internet has been good to me so far, and I think that the Internet will continue to be good to me. I am looking to date. The question I pose is - can a sex blogger (or whatever category you place me in) find love and happiness? I know that it's the question we all ask ourselves. I'm asking it now too. Living in New York, balancing school and a fairly hardcore job, looking for love. I feel like so many others here, except that I have one secret weapon. And you're looking at it. Well, you probably can see it a little bit askance. It's you. You the reader. I need help. You've gotten to know the intimate side of me. Now, I admit that we bloggers all suffer from Online Personality Syndrome, but I can tell you that I've got friends who read this blog who hear no cognitive dissonance in the voice here and the voice they hear when I speak. One friend said the blog sounds "more like a writer" but otherwise is the same. This is me. I don't change myself for this place because until recently nobody knew who I was, and now that everyone who does does, I'm somehow not bothered.

Here's what I'm doing now. I'm asking for your help. I don't know what the outcome of it will be and I don't know what the mechanics will be, but I'm asking for your help. I am looking to date. Know someone who you think would like to date me? Send them my way. Have some advice on what I should do to change my life to make it more dating/settling down friendly and less bar-fucky? Bring it.

I've done internet dating, but I'd consider doing it again. I could, in fact, put up an anonymous personal ad for the "Bad Man" if you think it would help. Or write my dream-personal for what I'm looking for.

Yes, I'm aware of the Marry Blair stigma. Not going down that full-on route, I don't think. I have no idea where this is going to go. But it is, like most things I've done, an experiment. So. Hello Internet. Open to suggestions and anything else.

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I've been swamped with work and school and life, sorry I haven't had time to post lately, I haven't even had time to go out for more than an hour a night, and usually that's to sip a club soda and go home to do more work.

So - here's a question for you, originally written in 2004.

When women go out to clubs and bars dressed in tube tops the width of a cigarette pack, are they:
A) Looking to get some action
B) Flaunting what they've got to tease men
C) Just dressing that way because they think they look good
D) Other

Question two:
Men - when you see a woman out in a club or bar dressed in a tube top the width of a cigarette pack, do you assume that they are:
A) Looking to get some action
B) Flaunting what they've got to tease you
C) Just dressing that way because they think they look good
D) Other

Kelcey wrote, in response to the original -

As a female, I would love to hear the answers, from both sides, to this question! I know for me it varies- if I'm in very good shape (yes, you can bounce quarters off my stomach at times) and I feel like it, then sometimes I'm dressed that way because I damn well feel like it and feel like flaunting it a bit. Sometimes it's because I'm looking for some action, but usually it's because that's what I felt like wearing. . . Did you put the responses, or some of them, to your question up somewhere?

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I don't even know what hit me tonight. Went out at midnight. Local bar as usual. Not drinking liquor, so I hang out and have club soda, which they pour for me all night. As I'm not getting any more drunk, my anxiety about talking to new people is staying at the same levels, perhaps going up, but mainly, I'm actually out to listen to the DJ.

Hours pass, the DJ does his thing and brings the absolute magic that he brings.

A girl that I'd met earlier, while watching the Yankees game at another bar, spots me and comes around the bar, sits next to me and starts writhing to the music and talking to me. We chat for about 45 minutes before she gets up to go to the bathroom.

Two minutes after she gets up, a second, absolutely stunning woman walks up to me. I've had my eye on her all night but I've stalled out every time she's walked by, and she's walked by a lot. She saunters up to me, looks me in the eye and says "are you gay?"
"No."
"Oh. Ok." And then she scampers off.

I don't follow, clearly.

Thirty seconds later, she's back.
"Are you bored?"
"No, I'm having a good time, how about you?" Suddenly, she got huffy.
"Whatever." She left the bar.

Her friend, who looked like she was about to hook up with a friend of mine, instead gives him a hug and leaves.

I keep sipping my club soda. Tell the girl who was talking to me about it, and she tells me that girls are weird sometimes. We have an excellent rapidly deepening conversation.

At the end of which she says "I really like you, you're fun." And then she gets shy. "But here's the thing. I'm sorta seeing the bartender. I don't want it to get weird." As the bartender is a guy I like and hang out with outside of work, the needle, obviously, comes off the record.

So my question is - which one of the gods did I piss of that I get the beautiful woman I've had my eye on to come talk to me, only to be called gay and boring, while the other cute girl that spent an hour talking to me, for whom I didn't pursue the beautiful one, is dating my friend. Seriously. Who'd I piss off?

I have to stop being shy around new people. This "approach anxiety" thing is pissing me off.

There's more to this story involving a gaggle of guys that looked like a cross between the Entourage posse and rejects from The PickUp Artist who were sort of the anti-me, who were the reason that both of the girls came to talk to me, a six foot five guy with a strange nickname, and staying out until 5am trying to figure out how to talk to new people. But mainly I'm wondering who the god of decision making is, because clearly I pissed her off.

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In chatting with Venus just now, I was reminded of a time in my life when I could get women to show up and blow me before work. Those were good times. I'm not a shy person, I'm just reserved in who I'm willing to talk to. Shy is so the wrong term for it.

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I was talking to Venus today about what I'm looking for. Right now, I'm looking for a good night's sleep. Generally, though, she was dead on in her estimation that:

You want a beautiful sub with substance? Is this fair to say?

My question is - how do I find that? It's been a journey coming to grips with the fact that I'm interested in a submissive woman, particularly coming off of a relationship with a woman who was decidedly not.
We discussed where I could look, and I've had this conversation with other women before. "The usual places" - alt.com and bondage.com strike me as not the sort of place that I'm going to find what I'm looking for.
So - I open this to those of you in relationships that have this aspect to them - how did you meet? Not that I can recreate your experience, but I am certainly curious how others have done it.
I told Venus that my plan was to continue flirting as I've been doing as that's been fairly successful. But by the same token, it hasn't, as I haven't found what I'm looking for. I'm open to suggestions, too.

In addition, she wanted to know why I characterize myself as shy and have had weeks where I've been rotating up to three women through my bedroom. I gave that one some thought too. Learned helplessness? Chet's admonishing me for this pretty regularly. I don't want to navel gaze on this issue other than to say it's not clear what my problem is. People like talking to me so long as I can get my mouth open and don't go all blank-stare.

One thing that's been helping meet new people lately? Sobriety. I stopped drinking completely over a month ago and now I just have club soda until my insides feel like they might burst. However, having the club soda frees me from the lack of mental acuity that comes from boozing. Allows me focus. And gives me one notch faster, speed-wise, than others similarly situated. So, there's that. I've heard of guys in the pickup community who never drink. I think I know why, now.

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The Daily Mail reports on something or other, I lost track of the article when I saw Maggie Gyllenhaal tied up like this. (Via Mistress Matisse)

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A combination of school, work and life have really been beating me up lately. I love school and I need the work, but learning to balance is a bitch. So I haven't had time to run around and meet women or call ones that I already know. So when The Jamaican instant messaged last night that she needed to sleep next to someone, I told her she should jump in a cab and come over. By 10:45 we were in bed, and by 11:15 we were asleep. In the meantime we got comfortable, caught up on things, and relaxed.

I woke up this morning feeling fantastic. Never underestimate the power of skin time on helping you get a good night's sleep and recharging your batteries.

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For all you men out there wondering "should I approach her?" here's one for you. Via Venus's 100 things about herself:

10. If I am giving you “the look” one of three things is happening. One, I think you are an idiot, two, I am mad as hell, or three, I am extremely attracted to you and am frozen.

Good luck, boys.

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The search terms that people use to find this site are pretty funny sometimes. And frankly, more than a little disturbing, too.

very very hot women in bedroom clips: 72 hits. I'm pretty sure that there are no clips here of any sort

elefant tonight lets dance: 1 hit. Great song, but boy did you take a wrong turn at Albuquerque.

i ordered her to strip naked for me to fuck her as a man should: Sounds like me, but I'm pretty sure I never said that.

no way bad man no suck: Huh?

neighbor stalker hit man next door: I don't even want to know.

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With regard to an old post, Kelcey wrote:

Just because someone is attractive doesn't mean they're good in bed, and generally the more times you're with someone the more comfortable you become and the more aware you are of what you both like.

God. If I had a nickel every time I found that. Hence, boredom with a fit model. Hence, ignoring the large breasted blonde that called two hours after leaving my apartment. Hence the trouble with the Jaguar.

Has anyone else seen this? You find that the hottie you take home is terrible in bed, or worse yet, you have no chemistry? Or that by the same token, you take home someone who isn't within your checklist of lookisms and you have a mind blowing time?

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The inner processes of a blog are far less interesting than the stories that we write.

However - for the moment, I'm not going to add a password. Was talked out of it by some friends who read the site, know who knows about it, and suggested that this sites rating is a hard R, or a light NC-17, but not really the XXX that would be an issue.

So - to those of you who know who I am, I ask you to keep it to yourself. I know that horse left the barn a long while ago, but still, a modicum of respect for the fact that this outlet of mine is something of a compulsion and I like the fact that I can write with a nearly unfettered voice...

That settled?

Good.

Was out last night at a bunch of parties - Fall has clearly begun, everyone wants to go out and have fun. The middle party, a house party in Fort Greene, was as good as any party that you've ever heard of. The party was three floors in a gigantic well presented space with all of the booze you could possibly imagine, pretty girls, handsome boys, DJs, and general friendliness. I even managed to talk to strangers, which you know is a strange sticking point. Oddly, the conversation turned to the issue of picking people up and I had a hilarious run with a pretty Indian girl about the terrible lines she's heard on the subway. Guys smelling her hair when she doesn't know them, guys talking about the shape of her smile... I laughed my ass off and wondered if they'd been watching The Pickup Artist on VH1. She had horror stories.

The party was as mixed as you could imagine with a heavy Haitian contingent, lots of Creole and French being spoken. I left without getting anybodies number, I've been sort of preoccupied with school lately, not really interested in taking anyone new home. I gave that girl my card, though. She mentioned something about throwing a party and invited me, but I didn't bother asking for her number.

I'm at a place right now where unless my doors are completely blown off, I'm not interested in making too much effort. I scratched the "make out for the sake of it" itch for the moment. As Viviane pointed out, "Going back to school will be more of an adjustment than you realize." Being a full time student and a lawyer as a hobby (ok, part time lawyer, but I like the ring to "lawyer as hobby") is quite a way to live. It's mentally draining, and the change from the five years worth of routine that I had to the sudden newness of this entirely different field is kind of taxing. So. No one new at the moment. Which could change tonight, of course, but nothing for the last however long.

Yes, incidentally, in a conversation with Dee I did realize the absurdity of the fact that people around the world (I've seen hits from all over the Middle East, China, and Europe...) read about my sex life and sometimes, still, I have trouble talking to girls.

It's not actually the talking I have trouble with. I can entertain, charm, and as you can tell, charm the pants off of women once I get going.

It's that first five seconds.

Chet and I were walking around SoHo on Wednesday night and we passed a bar full of bankers and the shiny women who love them. They were everywhere, on the street, in the bar, in the seats outside. He suggested we go inside and start talking to people and I just froze. I believe my exact words were "No. You can go in if you want, but I'm staying out here." It's those first five seconds. He even gave me a method of addressing that which I've determined to use. Not pickup lines (as we saw above, what's the point of using lines?) but something else. Clearly it worked in Fort Greene, why won't it work everywhere?

After the Fort Greene party it was off to Tribe where one of the bartenders admonished me for being a ghost lately. I told her that I'd quit drinking and she almost pouted and said "you could still stop by and say hi." It was sweet.

By 3:15 I said my goodbyes there and was off in my own head space, figuring out what I need to do next in my life, and meandering to Whiskey Town for a drink. At Whiskey Town the cocktail waitress, late of Tribe, walked from one side of the bar clear around to the other side to tell me that I looked 10 years younger and that I looked great. I told her that last night was exactly a month since I'd gone on the wagon. She told me I looked amazing. I -have- lost 20 lbs and the roundness that was my face until now is back down to the sharpness that I prefer. This is a positive achievement in my life, I think.

A few minutes later, a thought crept into my head, one of those ones that comes, unbidden and shocking, happily sideswiping me. The thought was simple:

I'm ready.

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As some of you may know - my identity has been uncovered a few times in the history of this blog. The last time caused me to take a two year hiatus. It's happened again. I know that several different groups of people have it. This leads me to paranoiac moments as I walk around - does this person know, does that person know? Paranoia isn't pretty. Heart rate goes up, fight or flight response is triggered and on and on. Terrible.

I am also in a massive transition period in my life.

However. Fo4's point, and that of a few others, that this has become a daily read, is well taken and frankly, appreciated.

So - I am going to leave this site up for awhile longer.

Then, I'm going to take a page out of Moxie's playbook and take this blog private. It will be password protected and only those with the password can get in. This should, hopefully, balance my compulsion to write with my need to protect my identity. If you know who I am, I ask that you keep it to yourself. Unless I'm writing about you, of course, then it's fair game.

Unfortunately, since I'm running Movable Type instead of Typepad or Wordpress, I don't know how to password protect a blog. If you're a developer or otherwise good with web technology, can you help me out? I'd like to get this done sooner rather than later. It also gives me the ability to keep writing, which I think serves both of us. Email me if you can help me out.

To get a password will be as easy as asking for one. I have no problem giving it to total strangers or to people that I know. But it gives me the ability to keep the site within something of a walled garden, and that's a good thing, I think.

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Clearly, it's me. Stood up tonight by The New Yorker. She got a flat tire, but was already late due to a thing and blah blah. Girl who cried wolf scenario - third cancellation. Just trying to give the girl back her stuff and get my rope back from her. Hey, it was good rope!

And this after The Cuban cancelled, and I cancelled on Surfette.

Saw Chet today. Good long talk about things. My weekend. My anxiety. How to accept my anxiety. Other things.

Nothing salacious for you today, sorry. Getting my land legs. School started yesterday, this weekend rocked my socks off in ways I can't describe or discuss, and I've cut most of the adult fun out of my life for the moment. Not all of it, mind you, but most of it.

Which clearly means I need to go back out and get some more, right?

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I keep forgetting to mention - Z is a sexy literary genius.

That is all.

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Back and exhausted. Haven't slept in five nights. Unfortunately for the blog, all five of the nights were engaged in work rather than play so nothing to report.

I did NOT see The Cuban although we did speak on the phone. I did NOT call Surfette, although I considered it briefly.

So. Once more into the breach lads.

Open question to all of you - the design of this site - any suggestions? I'm considering migrating from MT to WP, any thoughts on that migration?

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