Meet the boys

I feel in a bit of a funk as of late…

My religious pet whom I shall call Mr. Perfect was never going to be anything but a sexless coffee shop buddy. Oh sure- he’s tall, dark and handsome. He’s also desperately horny and barely hides it under all that awkward and overly-polite behavior. Yet, months of trying to talk some sense into him have failed utterly. It’s not just that he steadfastly believes in his god- it’s that he’s sure his god thinks sex is a terrible sin and he mustn’t do it unless he’s married. That’s problem for me, so we are at an impasse.

The thing about Mr. Pefect is; I really do enjoy his company. I adore fighting with him about his beliefs, and I would certainly do so much longer if he wasn’t moving back to California. It’s been a great year at coffee shops and language lessons. I even went with him to his church. Why not? It’s not as though I will burst into flames if I walk into one, (though I know some people who speculated that I would.)

Alas, there will never be any sex with Mr. Perfect. And now I have to say goodbye to him and it’s tearing me apart.

I did get him a parting gift though. It’s a book about a devil and an angel who become friends called “Good Omens.” I wrote on the inside cover that I adore him and always wanted him, but I doubt he’ll ever open the book. He’s the sort who borrows a book and then never gets around to reading it. Still, if he does, he’ll know that a wicked, wicked girl loved him. He was always terrified of me because of the fetish proms and stuff, and I knew deep down that I’d be unhappy if we ever got together because vanilla sex would bore me… but fantasies don’t make sense and I’ll miss dreaming of Mr. Perfect taking me in his arms and kissing me with those big, perfect lips.

He’s not the only one I want but can’t have either. I’m chasing a 20-year-old too, which should probably be against the law. The poor thing is far too young to realize what he’s being pursued by. I just can’t help myself though because he’s damaged as hell. He was molested by the babysitter and unloved by all his many step-parents and care-takers. He’s broken and it’s so attractive to someone like me who is also broken inside.

I’ll keep chasing Mr. Broken forever, but I’m starting to realize it’s not likely I’ll catch him. I think I’m older than the babysitter who molested him and, in any case, I can’t try too hard with someone who’s been raped. I know what that is like. So I keep him off to the sidelines and think of him as a random encounter (to use D&D terminology.) I do see his big, ice-blue eyes when I fall asleep sometimes though.

That only leaves me two others.

First there is Mr. Uptight. It’s not hard to convince him to have sex; it’s just not any fun. He’s impossibly frigid in bed- like a high school girl who just lays there and is afraid to even moan. I’m not really sure why, but my guess is that he’s got some serious thrill issues from watching dirty, dirty internet porn and he’s an engineer so naturally, he’s incapable of communicating. He could be having that crazy sex he wants. I’m about as twisted as they come. But I’m not a mind-reader and I’ll only put so much effort into trying to hear the words in someone’s head before I say “fuck it.” At least he has a 10-inch cock. That’s too big- if you ask me. However, since it seems the pain of thinking my vagina is going to be torn in half is all I am getting out of this, I may as well enjoy the novelty of it. One does not often get to fuck someone with a cock like a porn star.

I think the best part about fucking Mr. Uptight is seeing the Magnum wrappers all over the floor in the morning. I like when we have sex on the table, and then the chair or couch, and then in the morning there are little gold condom wrappers everywhere. That never fails to make me smile.

Then there is Mr. Nice Guy. As always when you have a bunch of boys around, I can see traits in him that would mesh well with traits in the others, if I was trying to make the perfect guy. Like, if I could slice them all apart and just take what I want, Mr. Nice Guy has some good qualities. He’s thoughtful, likes to give foot rubs and back massages, listens carefully and attentively to everything I say, and cares deeply. Also, he’s desperate for a mate (not just a lover) and the desperate wafts off him in a way that I find both appalling and cute.

Also, he’s very, very submissive and that always wigs me just a bit in guys. I love switches and I can handle submissive guys if they have pride. Mr. Nice Guy though… he mixes being a submissive with lacking self-confidence and it’s just too many types of desperate to handle at once. I’d be fine tying him up and beating him if I didn’t know he was unhappy- is all I mean.

Anyway the things about people is, the good is always offset by bad. There are no perfect people. So while they all have good qualities, they all have bad qualities too. I can’t just chop them up and take the bits I want, welding them together to make the perfect man. I am stuck using each of them for a small bit of what I want, and only being happy overall. This is why monogamy is bullshit. I hate the idea that I am supposed to get ALL THE THINGS from one person.

Anyway it feels like a bit of a funk lately, but I’m sure things will pick up again soon. They always do in my life.

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