The first weekend Alexander spends at mine

The rain pattered noisily on the velux windows above us this morning; above a replete pair recumbent in each others’ arms.  I marvelled at how I welcomed Alexander’s embrace and felt nothing but a deep fondness for him at that moment.  He had been attentive and enthusiastic in his efforts last night – so much so that a few slats under the bed had come apart and clattered to the floor when we were in mid-congress.  Being not in the least distracted we carried on until he eventually climaxed.  I couldn’t help thinking that it was a rather extended session and he apologised also for taking so long at it.  It was then that I asked him whether, in the past few dates that we had had, he had taken anything to enhance his sexual performance.  He said that he had but not last night.  I was gratified later that morning that sans artifice, he succeeded in clearing two more hurdles with a little rest in between, before we finally got up.

Earlier the previous afternoon we’d had a date involving a walk on Hampstead Heath, getting caught in the rain on the way back to the car via a coffee stop.  When we got back  to mine, we had some wine and began preparations for the meal Alexander had promised to cook for me, and as it turned out, for the rest of the people at home too.  Finishing a bottle of red between us, he at the stove and I as general kitchen helper, washing up and putting some music on in between chatting to him and anyone else who came into the kitchen, drawn by the lovely aroma of chorizo, chicken, paprika and mirepoix cooking, I was more than a little merry by the time we all, five of us sat down to dinner.  I liked how easily he slipped into my weekend routine on this, his first meeting with some members of my family.

Knowing how close he was to his mother – he had once said that she was now like a good mate to him with the mere two decades between them, and her retaining a fairly youthful outlook – I’d asked him if he had mentioned me to her and what she thought of his dating me.  He had previously told me that he thought we might get on as we seem to have similar ideas about relationships and independence.  I was, of course, flattered at being compared favourably to someone who was significant to him.  He hastened to add that she  respected his choices and never sought to influence them directly.  He said that she had admired the way I told him from the beginning about my non-monogamous lifestyle.  This led to a discussion of his still tentative view of it, and a confession on my part that far from being an ethical slut, he was the only man I was currently seeing since Jan is far too busy with his gf and Ewan was so far away in the Highlands.   I still retain my liberal belief that relationships should not be shackling whilst being quite content at the moment to date him exclusively.  He was uncertain whether he might feel intense jealousy at the thought of me with another man but respected my lifestyle choice.

We each confessed to the increasing warm feelings we felt for one another, whilst establishing that we were comfortable with the boundaries we set out – respecting the time apart between dates, how unnecessary to be too needful of physical contact, the necessity of maintaining our own privacy and independence and so on.

I’m determined not to repeat past mistakes – of rushing ahead or making dates into the future – and so when we said our goodbyes at 11 this morning, we only made one tentative date for the middle of next week.   He told me he had a footie event he was attending with his friend on Tuesday evening and I quite welcome the idea that I would regain more time for myself next week.  He had asked me about the big five oh, when my birthday was on and whether I’d anything arranged.  I was almost tempted to invite him to celebrate it with me but held back because it is still two months away and a lot could happen in that time.  He seemed to appreciate this without my having to articulate my feelings on it, moreover he must be quite aware by now that I pretty much do things on an adhoc basis.

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What Is This Thing With Alexander?

Monday evening came and saw Alexander and me enjoying dinner at Barrafina’s on Adelaide St before crossing the Thames and going on to the National Theatre. It was a short play and we came home to mine by half ten. There was time for some tea afterwhich we went upstairs for bed and more.  He had to leave early in the morning but we still had time to indulge in a little more intimacy before he had a shower, returned me my shirt I’d inadvertently left at his last week and finally, most deliciously, he had kissed me goodbye until Thursday, before he closed the door and descended the stairs and went out the front door.

The previous evening we’d talked frankly about his home circumstances – the depression his wife suffers and how that affects her ability to cope with their children; the involvement of the borough they lived in to ensure that the children’s needs are met, the meetings with council staff to weigh up and consider the instruments for satisfying such outcomes. He clearly has a lot to contend with.  I’d suggested to him that he could just go home at the end of our date if it was easier to negotiate travel, etc for such a meeting the following morning.  He had given me so complete a look of anguish that I felt a mixture of guilt and satisfaction for proposing it.

He also told me about his past girlfriends and how he had always been attracted to strong and independent women. I observed that it didn’t seem as though the women he married had those characteristics. He said that when he first met her, his current wife had come across as such and it was only later on that he realised she was particularly needy and emotionally unstable. Like most marriages they had had good times, she was sexually adventurous and he had been attracted to that – they had enjoyed holidays in Europe at naturist sites.  He blamed his own optimism and hope that things would turn a corner for not leaving earlier.  When the atmosphere at home had reached a certain level of toxicity that saw some physical violence, he had realised then that it was time to walk away.  He had been unfoundedly fearful of outcomes which had actually borne an opposing result – he was more at ease, regained his confidence and ability to parent singly, met and tentatively formed friendships with other women, rediscovered his sexuality, and so on – as such none of the fears that had held him back from walking away had come to fruition.

Before he met his current wife he had been seeing someone based in Europe and the few occasions they’d met had been alluring and exciting until it all went wrong somehow.  I guess the more at arm’s length someone is kept, the greater the danger of miscommunication and misunderstanding.

For now we are on the same page –  this is clearly an arrangement that suits us both – we have dependents and commitments that keep us on our toes, maybe even test our stress levels at times, such that the intimacy and dates we have with each other offer release and a break from reality. That I can be content with. For now this is good enough.

Sex only, please

A recap of the week – met up with Tomas – not much happened apart from some sensuous stroking of each other’s naked bodies.  Some alcohol was imbibed – he’d brought champagne, which tasted delicious drunk from various parts of the other’s body.  No one interrupted our afternoon tryst and we said goodbye at the end of it.

Someone new, just a few months older than me wrote from the dating app and he seemed interesting enough for me to suggest a first and then second meeting. He had lived in Russia a couple of times which was experience enough to modify his initial (militant!) left-wing leanings.  Anyway, we fell into bed together almost from the beginning, at the end of the first date in fact; after the hit and miss, mostly miss efforts of Julius and Tomas, I was in sore need of some real action in the bedroom department.  This new man was keen and happy enough to be thus employed and it was a welcome break not having to worry about the complication of emotional connection.  I liked how he aroused me and was gratified that he proved sufficiently virile to initiate sex and orgasm no less than four times overnight.  We made a third date next week and perhaps it will become an almost certain pattern of once or twice a week, until I tire of him, or he me …  who knows.  I hesitate to give him a name, but ever the optimist that this may last a little longer than the usual, it would be apt I think if we all knew him as Alexander.

Getting over the crush

I made the mistake of agreeing that Julius could come back to mine when I should have told him not to.  He’d bought me dinner and I’d felt under an obligation.  In future I should listen to my intuition.  It had been a stressful beginning to the week at work and it had only been Tuesday when we met in the afternoon, initially for an afternoon only date as he had told me that he was seeing one of his old girlfriends in the evening, but then suddenly he said he was free in the evening also and would buy dinner, etc..  I had hoped that it would have been relaxing re-visiting the Soane, especially since they had only opened the kitchens to the public.  But I hadn’t been able to get away straight after work, and with meetings and whatnot it was a struggle even to meet at the appointed time.  In the end I arrived before him and due to the sweltering humidity, decided to descend into the cool of the basement, having sent J a message to say I’d meet him downstairs.

After fifteen minutes I realised he hadn’t received my message and returned outside to find him practically wilting in the heat.  Eventually we both went round the house again and when it closed had an ice cream each at the cafe in the fields.  It cooled down by half six and we decided to walk up towards the Dolphin pub off Judd Street, stopping off at the Ship’s Tavern en route.  Julius had always brought his previous dates to the Dolphin and we enjoyed an authentic Thai meal cooked by a Thai chef.

He didn’t ask me if I was comfortable with him returning to my place with me when the meal ended and I was too tired and  frazzled to be able to coherently broach the subject on my own.  If he had, as he had done in the past, I might have been able to explain why I preferred to be alone.  So, he followed me home and I was cross with myself; try as I did not to appear so, I snapped at him a few times.   For example, I thought him discourteous when he tapped the end of his glasses against my knee to make a point, in disagreement.  Instead of laughing it off, I withdrew my leg.  He immediately apologised which set my teeth on edge!  I felt incredibly unreasonable at my displeasure, which made me resent him even more!

And so I am now reluctant to make another date with him.  He has written to me on various social media apps suggesting various outings, until finally on email I wrote him a considered reply explaining that I had made a few dates with other men but was not keen to see him until the appointed holiday.  I do hope that by not being together, coupled with the anticipation of a break, I might enjoy his company again.  Otherwise, horror of horrors, there’d be two more dates, all the way to November to endure!

Epiphany

6th September 2016

Bade Julius goodbye today outside the tube station – this was after a date that ended with a sleepover.  He’d invited me to meet his friends on a canal walk last Sunday.  Complications with other things in our life meant that it didn’t end with either of us spending the night together – in my case I had work the next morning and in his he had to untangle himself from a relationship which did not have a promising future.  When we met up the following afternoon he still had not quite completely ended it, treading the fine line between saying no and not wanting to hurt.  I was uncomfortable when he tried to unburden himself as I tend to subscribe to a firmer method of rejection. We went for a ramble around Golders Hill park and supped at Eat Tokyo.  The evening walk with the dog on the golf course saw some al fresco nookie.  It was pitch black in the woods but the golf course itself was lit where a few houses backed onto the links.  We started off kissing there and moved on to a more sheltered area.  In any event the dog stood guard and would have warned us if anyone had happened upon us.  According to Julius it was his second experience of outdoor sex.

9th September 2016

Since the last time we met up in the Scottish Highlands at the beginning of summer, June to be precise, I hadn’t seen Ewan who came down the previous evening.  He was fairly ardent in his approach, claiming a dearth of suitable bedmates and so we had almost a quickie post-prandial, after which we enjoyed a siesta.   Later that evening we tried out the Ab Fab party venue in west London: under a starlit sky we swam in our birthday suits in the pool and made friends.  In a public room, i.e. one where spectators could look through we indulged in a fairly organised orgy with two other couples.  It was my first experience of a woman who squirts during orgasm.  One of Julius’ lovers does that and he claims it is a nuisance.  The woman at the sex party was a lovely friendly warm person as was her partner and post coital, as it were, were both happy to impart some advice for us swinging newbies.  I think Ewan had a lovely time of it and not feeling particularly emotionally attached to him I was able to indulge in the whole experience without any attendant angst.

I fully empathised with Julius’ feelings of insecurity and the following afternoon arranged to meet him at his after work.  I had work the following day and didn’t stay the night.  We discussed further how we felt about each other and confirmed that we were both fairly comfortable with the idea of our dating/sleeping with other people.  He asked me whether I had any opinion about his considering closing his dating profile on the app and I told him that it was his decision to make and I would not presume to ask him to do so.   I added that apart from Tomas, I was not chatting to anyone else.  As someone once said, they were poly-saturated and I felt fairly sated by the choice lovers I am in contact with.

He continued to tell me that I was desirable and earlier this afternoon, after several risqué message exchanges with Tomas, I began to realise that perhaps men really did want to take me to bed.  And perhaps that is all, … and that is really quite enough and almost an epiphany for me.  Perhaps it didn’t matter after all – the aging, the wobbly bits, the less than symmetrical features, the loose skin, the silver strands amongst the ebony.  Some men – Julius, Tomas, Goran (whose own domestic issues continue), Ramon, etc… desired me.  But not Michael anymore it would seem – we had met at a family event with some of our children in tow and our relationship is friendly and warm.

I went to the poly-cafe in Warren Street with Max yesterday evening for a book club meeting, the book being The Ethical Slut.  There was a nice balance of people at different stages of polyamory and we talked about our experiences and relationships.  I recognised one other person I’d met previously when I arranged with Goran to meet there one Saturday afternoon some time in early summer this year.  It felt reassuring to be a part of a group whose chosen relationship lifestyle mirrored mine.  Max was in fragile mood and I gave him a few warm, close embraces when he asked me for a hug.  I am wary of becoming attached to him but am not so unfeeling as to deny him warmth.  He is more than an ex-lover and I feel a strong fondness towards him.  It’s strange how I am no longer giddy over any of my past or even present lovers but continue to feel a bond with some of them.  I still adore Julius but can sense my infatuation passing as he tells me that he is still meeting new women – including one last night and another this evening.  Reluctant to be hurt by someone who has the potential to unsettle me my survival instincts kick in and I take the initiative with Tomas this afternoon, asking him for a preview of his back torso, gambling on the possibility that he would ask for one of mine in return and he did not fail me.

This is the picture Tomas sent me earlier today in a bid to convince me that he was not as curvy as the Felix Vallotton nude who has a coquettish profile.

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Felix Vallotton’s nude

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