These men

Back after her travels, the spring warmth greeted Amy and so did Jan, the first one to sleep over the first day she got back and they spent the following day rambling the vale and lunched at the Brew House in Kenwood.  After platonic farewell kisses she spends the weekend in the company of Michael.

Of an evening Amy continues to text chat with Ewan and Goran.  A new man, Sergei makes a date with her for Monday evening and Goran on Wednesday.   The time out has mended her broken heart and they fall into an easy, less frequent to and fro.  He tells her that he has recently fallen unsuitably in love and talked out of making a fool of himself by his wife.  The story of his complicated relationships continue and I am glad that Amy got out of that drama without too many scars.

She got in touch with Liam who arranges to meet up again the following Tuesday.  So these are some of the men in her life now.

18 May 2016

Shagged by two different and not so different Dutchmen, both married, indulging in some extramarital, one openly and the other surreptitiously.  Young men continue to write to Amy, her profile now challenges the men to step up, but no one really has.

Liam took her out for a film and dinner, they shared the bill, like the feminists they are.  He took her up to his office, on the top floor of an eleven storey building and they kiss there.  He was quite turned on, as was Amy, and even though he asked if she wanted to spend the night with him, she turned him down.  They make another date for the end of the month and I wonder what might happen.

Amy bought a ticket to go up and see Ewan in the Scottish highlands next month, on his invitation and they make plans to go rambling and possibly sailing.

What am I looking for? That is the question on everyone’s minds at the moment.  The only one who seems to have any clue is Goran’s ex girlfriend who has found someone to date who is single and looking for a serious relationship – but it is still early days even for them.

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no valentine this year, but there’s a poem

It’s only 7am but Amy is not expecting flowers or cards, there’s no one she is dating who’ll fall for the commercial giddiness of an ancient practice.  By some lunar coincidence it’s also the seventh day of the Chinese new year and tradition demands that we celebrate our humanity today, by feasting on a salad of raw fish and julienned vegetables.

The dates of the past week have been fun but uneventful.  Ewan took Amy to a venue which was quieter than it normally might have been not only because it was mid week, but storm Imogen was on the prowl.  Still, they had quite a few salacious moments in a swimming pool, and then a log cabin furnished with soft cushions on a raised bed.  By the time they left, it was midnight and the following morning they kissed their goodbyes and Ewan left to catch a flight back up to Inverness.

Transgender dating man was sweet and interesting and took her to the cinema for their second date that week.  When he proposed a third the following Monday, Amy had to turn him down as she had made arrangements to meet up with Liam.  It seems unlikely that they would continue to see each other as she had not been inclined to kiss him properly.

There had been a concert date with Jan, but the following day he was driving up north to spend the weekend with NW who was rapidly becoming a regular GF.  So it had been a friendly date where they listened to some music, made dinner together, went to the concert, came back to his for a couple of measures of Highland Park whisky and woke up the next morning for some more conversation, and coffee and fruit.  She eventually left after wishing him a safe journey and good weekend.  Her day was filled with domesticity until the evening when she could unwind with a bowl of sake and some mindless TV drama.

Last night there had been a delightful to and fro between Amy and an Icelandic poet who is in London for the next few days.  Þórinn (or Thorinn) sent her several poems, of his own and a few from those Persian masters of old.  This is a favourite –

Sometimes I wonder, sweetest love, if you
Were a mere dream in a long winter’s night,
A dream of spring-days, and of golden light
Which sheds its rays upon a frozen heart;
A dream of wine that fills the drunken eye.
And so I wonder, sweetest love, if I
Should drink this ruby wine, or rather weep;
Each tear a bezel with your face engraved,
A rosary to memorize your name…
There are so many ways to call you back-
Yes, even if you only were a dream.                  Rumi

And so they arrange to meet up next Tuesday.  Dr Thorinn has the added advantage of being open to the idea of polyamory and declared that he was going to pen a poem, having enjoyed flirting with Amy whilst listening to music from his youth, which evoked memories of his first love.  His last words to her on the dating site had been –

I am fascinated by your profile photo, you have such deeply intensively intelligent eyes. I want to rub my nose with yours and kiss this mouth, then hold this woman and embrace her, feel her heart beat…

Not lying to Goran

First to arrange a date was the nice librarian Walter who has had very similar life experiences as me and who had declared a keen interest in having straightforward sex. Which was what happened one evening last week – all well and good. He stayed the night and after sharing coffee in the morning I kissed him goodbye.

That same afternoon I had arranged to meet up with someone with whom I’d merely been chatting on the message boards of the online dating website. I had never thought we’d ever meet since he was some 250 miles away from me and I don’t generally do long distance relationships. However some weeks previously he had told me that he was going to be in London on a few errands and I suggested a coffee place near me as a suitable first meeting point. I had no expectations apart from a friendly how-do-you-do.

I walked up to the coffee bar and saw him a few yards away outside his car, phone in his hand. He was having trouble trying to get a ticket for his vehicle and whilst attempting to register online his card and vehicle, his phone died. As the cafe was quite near me and there were no parking restrictions on my road I ended up inviting this man whom I’d never met previously back to mine. Very clearly, during the short period of time we’d met and on the basis of our frank back and forth on the message boards I had decided that he seemed a reasonably trustworthy and decent sort of man.

As to what he actually thought of me inviting him back to my house did not cross my mind whatsoever. We seemed to get on extremely well – Ewan was greeted by my dog who must have also sensed his trustworthiness as he did not emit any growls. We had some tea and chatted over fruit, biscuits and cheese. Time flew by and I indicated at half past four that it might be time for me to take the dog out. Ewan took that as cue for him to leave and asked if I might allow him to kiss me. Kisses are not something my dog tolerates well – he was woefully and loudly and most agitatedly making his distress and jealousy known. So we repaired to the front room and continued until it was clear that Ewan was not leaving the house until we had ravished each other.

So when Goran returned to London at the weekend and asked if I’d missed him I found myself hesitating over telling him that I might have been distracting myself in dalliance with two others. It wasn’t the sort of telling which was meant maliciously – I said, and I had meant it most sincerely, that he was still the most satisfying shag of the year, of which there had been three.