The tinder magic hands.

So tinder. How perplexing is tinder? It’s like one stop window shopping for the opposite sex. Or the same sex if that’s what you’re into. Since I moved to a new place at the end of last year I figured I would give it a try; I do love a good window shopping every now and then. I joined when I was extremely bored one night and at first I just thought it was very humorous way to pass the time. Me being as serious as I am, I couldn’t help but imitate the stupid faces that some people made in their pictures. Anyway, I ended up compiling a few matches over that night, but I really didn’t want to meet up with any of them because I had absolutely no idea who they were. But apparently it’s normal in our society to meet up with people just because we think they are attractive? I mean, hey, I can’t really complain. I do like sexy men and all.

Funny story time. Eventually I decided I would meet up with someone I was chatting away with on tinder. We will call him Juan today for confidentiality reasons, and he was from Brazil. Typical white girl here, but apparently after having sexual relations with one hispanic man… well, I guess I just acquired a new taste for them. Unfortunately, Juan could type in English much better than he could actually speak it. So we got together for a quick lunch before he had to go to work one day, and we had a long conversation with trouble understanding each other the entire time. Well, that’s awkward. For some reason he still wanted to see me after that too, but I just couldn’t bring myself to have another painstaking, tooth pulling, pointless conversation wherein I could only use very simple words and speak very slowly. If you knew me, you would know that I just can’t speak slowly, especially when I am really excited or happy. I am just a regular old jabber jaw.

So I deleted tinder. You think that would be the end of the story because I was really turned off by the fact that the hot hispanic man ended up being a total bust. Sorry Juan. It’s just a deal breaker for me when we can’t speak. I at least have to be mentally stimulated a little before we get to the physical stimulating. So I went on my merry way without tinder for a few months and had a secret sexual relationship with my cousin’s brother in law. I don’t know if that’s supposed to be allowed at all, but I sure enjoyed it. Not to mention he was a very attractive, hispanic cop. Oh and he owned a boat that we had sex on multiple times. Let me tell you, when he was drunk that was one dirty, rough man. But we will save that story for another day.

I recently downloaded tinder again because my last little fling is over with. So here I am again with my long list of window shopping delight. But I just can’t seem to get tinder right. I matched with this guy, we will call him David. David was actually just visiting his parents for a long weekend, and he lives a few hours away. For some reason, we still decided to get coffee one day because he needed an excuse to get away from his family for a little bit. We met at a little local coffee shop that I like. Unfortunately for me, we both really enjoyed ourselves. He was attractive, manly, and extremely nice. He was a carpenter and a fisherman at the very end of Long Island. It doesn’t get more manly than that really, does it? He had calloused, working man hands and he was delicious.

So lets continue the story of the date I should have never been on because I actually liked this guy. We went to get coffee around 4 and we stayed until around 6. We obviously couldn’t let the best date I have ever been on end that early though. So we got into his car and we went to his favorite local park in his old neighborhood. It was a beautiful park along the coast which awesome views of the sunset and walking trails throughout connecting little gazebos and sitting areas. We sat right on the edge of the coast for a little while, telling each other stories of our lives until it started to get just a little too cold to be there.

This is the point where we should end this stupidly perfect date. But do we? No of course we don’t. We get back in his car and we just can’t seem to head back to where I live. He should drop me off and we should continue with our separate lives. That would be too easy though. After we were driving around talking for a little while we decided we were hungry so we went to an awesome Mexican restaurant. We sat at the bar so we didn’t have to wait for a table and as if we couldn’t be any cuter we ordered 4 different appetizers so we could just share everything. While we were waiting for our food at one moment I just looked at him and smiled at something he said, and he leaned right over and kissed me. It was like the friggin movies. I could hardly even breathe; I was totally consumed by him kissing me. After we just spent a minute looking at each other, and David says to me “I’m sorry, I just really wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I heard your voice.” We talked on the phone for a minute when he was looking for the coffee shop, which is what he was referring to.

Why did this have to be so perfect?!!!! I normally am not a huge sucker for this kind of stuff. But it was really killing me. Our Mexican food was delicious. He was delicious. He didn’t even live here. UGH. Again, this date should be over by now. It was 9:00 at night and it had been a 5 hour date. So what do we do? We go back to my apartment and we watch a movie. I love to torture myself clearly. He is kissing me more, and let me tell you he is a good kisser. I couldn’t help myself and he ends up on top of me, taking my shirt off, and we can all guess where this is going. Except for it didn’t go there. We didn’t have sex. He was just really enjoying feeling me up and driving me crazy. I was wearing jeans, and eventually his hand ended up between my legs and somehow he made me orgasm twice. With his hand, through my jeans. Jeans people. I am pretty sure his hands were magic.

Finally, that was the end of our date. What the hell? How am I supposed to even process that day in my head? D is for David. D is for delicious. D is for distance. Ugh. The next day he wanted to see me again. He came over to my apartment and we spent some time watching bad television and talking. Then obviously we couldn’t do that forever, so the same thing ends up happening. He is on top of me, things are really hot and steamy, and thank the heavens I decided to wear leggings instead of jeans. My leggings were obviously soaked by the end of this encounter, because his magic hands had me practically screaming and digging my own hands into my couch. I really appreciate leggings now though, because they are much thinner than jeans and those two (yes, again, two) orgasms practically tore me apart. What this man could do to me was unbelievable. What he says between the first and the second mind blowing orgasms? “You’re so sexy. I just want to make you feel good.”

Make me feel good? Check. Where the fuck did this guy come from? He is beyond overwhelming but in the sexiest way possible. Not to mention I got to take his shirt off and give him a massage for a little while. I couldn’t help but kiss up and down that gorgeous back of his. He has tattoos on both sides of his torso as well. I really just wanted to eat him alive. Alas, that was not in the stars for this two day affair that left me weak in the knees and soaked in the panties.

That was a few weeks ago. Luckily for me, I got to see him again two days ago because he was visiting again because he was in the area for some maritime training. He was telling me about it, and it is training to be out on the sea in bad conditions, comparable to a week of training for the coast guard. Again, sexy is the only way I can describe him right now. Things heated up a little in our next encounter, but I’m going to save that for another post. I’m going to go daydream about David knowing just how to rub my clit through my leggings. I’m just about drooling right now.

Until next time,

M.

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The human contradiction.

Hello world. I don’t know if anyone is ever going to read this, and that’s okay. I am deciding to use a blog as a diary of sorts while I am trying to figure out why society is so extremely messed up. I am a 24 year old woman living a little outside of New York City, and I am constantly doing the opposite of what people tell me to do. Maybe I have issues and a I really need therapy, but maybe I just want to have fun. Of course you will never be able to do this without being criticized to no end. And why is that?

I have started a journey in my own mind to rewrite how my brain works. Every single person is brainwashed by their own society to think that there are clear lines of right and wrong. It’s supposed to be black and white, or at least that’s what you are told to think. Don’t do drugs. Don’t have sex. Don’t drink too much. Don’t dress like that. Don’t do anything that can cast a negative light on you; the spotlight is hard to turn off once it’s pointing right into your eyes.

So why are we so blindly judgmental? Why are we all made to look at people differently for the choices they make, even when they have absolutely nothing to do with us? Literally zero effect on our lives, but we are still trying to tell people how they should or shouldn’t act. Whether we all realize or not, we all take part in things for our own selfish needs. Humans are extremely egotistical, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We are made to survive, and there is no room for the weak in the game of life. So now instead of being the best hunter or farmer like our ancestors had to be, how do we determine survival of the fittest?

Physically attacking people is now illegal, which is probably one of the better decisions our society made. Unfortunately, now we attack each other mentally. This is the new-age way to survive. You’re too fat. You’re too easy. You’re too ugly. You’re too nice. You’re too serious. You’re too prude. You lack reason. You lack drive. You lack a pair of nice boobs. You lack a relationship with God. You lack. You’re too this. You’re too that. You’re a human. In my case, there are people that consider me a “slut.” Sadly, the people that I hear use this term the most are family members.

So here we are with the WOD – the word of the day!

Slut – noun
1. an immoral or dissolute woman; prostitute.
2. Obsolete. a dirty, slovenly woman.

Straight from the dictionary there! As part of my journey to retrain my brain to not be so judgmental of people (because honestly I have no right to judge anyone for what they want to do), I have thought heavily on this word. It’s so easy for a woman to be called a slut in society. I have been called a slut by a man that I wouldn’t sleep with, which I have learned is quite common. It is also hilariously ironic. So while the definition of the term might lead people to think I am a prostitute, I will ease your fear and tell you I do not have sex for money or services. Unless you count orgasms in return, then I will gladly be a prostitute any day.

The latest reason that I was called a slut is that I got involved with someone that my family doesn’t particularly like. So because I had consensual relations with one person (that lead to multiple orgasms, might I add), I was crowned with this term. I may actually start to enjoy the name soon if it means having great sex. I obviously continued to see this man, even though certain family members had an absolute fit about it when they found out about the first time. We found no reason to be in public together, so we would order in deliciously fattening food, engorge ourselves on that, and then lastly engorge ourselves on each other. Unfortunately, we were seen together at one point and someone told my cousin about it. Now many of my family members are no longer speaking to me. The funniest part is my cousin is in an incredibly unhappy marriage, and I am guessing she could really use more sex in her life. It’s like a cure-all for stress.

The craziest thing about this all, is that each and every one of us engages in acts for our own selfish gains. Yes, the things that we want and the ways we attain these things differ, but as I talked about earlier – we are inherently selfish to survive. So here I am, a young woman living near the city. I am no longer seeing the man that my family was unhappy with because our schedules have changed and it just wasn’t working anymore. So, I have been talking to a couple new men. And while that might come off as promiscuous, I don’t care. I haven’t slept with anyone else yet, but I probably will soon. Will I get criticzed for it? Absolutely.

It’s extremely ironic that we are part of a society that will shame you for how much sex you have or for the junk food that you eat. How dare you have multiple orgasms or eat delicious foods. You’re a monster. You will certainly not enjoy your miserable life filled with many pleasures.

Get real. I will absolutely enjoy it, and that is what makes me a wretch of society.

Until next time,

M