Maybe My Standards Are Too High

I’m looking for something. I’m not sure if I am looking for sex or love, but I’m not looking for them both in the same person. Not today. When I’m horny I want to find a person to roll around with. Someone who is only in town for three months, who has time on their hands, speaks spanish, has no pressing hang-ups, is built like an athletic porn star, is kinky, has nothing on his mind but sex.
And yet I’m looking for more than that. I’m a terribly romantic person. I want to hold hands and have picnics and write poems. I want to skip in the rain, skip work, stay in bed for three weeks snuggling and laughing. I love to be in love.
For a number of years I was quite content to be single, I really like living alone, not having to save hot water for anyone else to bathe in, drinking all the juice, leaving my panties on the floor without someone bitching at me are all highlights of being single. I like having the time to spend hours in the bathtub with a good book and a pot of tea. I enjoy my own company and I cherish my privacy. But lately I am lonely. I’m a little tired of always picnicking alone. I really do like to share my toys, my books, my life with someone. I appreciate being able to come home and fall into someones arms, knowing that they are there for me and that they cherish the fact that I am there for them.
Now I’m sad. In fact I’m kind of depressed. It’s not the kind of depressed that requires medication. It is the kind of depressed that requires wine and girlfriends and inspires writing at 3am in combat boots and a bathrobe. It is the depression that kicks in after a breakup that you didn’t want. And I didn’t want to break up. We broke up because we had to. Because we were going to hurt each other physically. I guess that at some point all of the emotional abuse, the games, the lies, the passive aggressive ways in which we toy with each others hearts stopped being useful and we decided to hit each other.
Maybe it was a feeling of being trapped. Maybe it was a lack of common language. Maybe it was the age difference. Maybe it was the fact that we are both damaged people living in a damaged town full of damaged goods, dented cans, and three legged pets. I’m tired of asking why. It just is what it is.
But I’m sad. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling. I know I will live. I will be fine. But I miss the intimacy, the physical reality of snuggling up next to someone who knows how to hold me. I miss the touch and the kissing and the sex. I miss the hot passionate kinky sex. And I am aware enough to know that I’m not in any shape to date anyone right now. I’m a sad mess. I’m overwhelmed with thoughts about my ex and anyone I date is gonna have to deal with that pathetic baggage. So I need to get past it before I can even hold a decent conversation with anyone. Yet I need to fuck. Pretty badly.
I tried to get laid this week. I went drinking with a couple of boys in their 20s. We ended up at my house and the younger (and more conservative one) said that he had been working in his boots all day. I really wanted to sniff his filthy socks. I told him to take his boots off. He was embarrassed and said that his feet would stink my whole house up. I grabbed him by the sleeves of his shirt and shook him a little demanding that he take off the boots and present me with these olfactory treasures. I love stinky feet. Why was he teasing me?
He was probably too inexperienced to understand that I really do like stinky feet. I explained to him quite matter of factly that taking off his shoes would lead to a smutty night of hot three way sex. He got scared and wanted to go home.
I drunk dialed my ex. We were nice to each other. I imagine he is sad too.
Later in the week I went to meet a potential slave. I think I scared him off with my line of questions that were not intended to unearth a huge red flag, but did. I asked a friend of mine if I am being too picky. Maybe my standards are too high.
I’m not sure if I blogged about the time last year I went on two or three dates with a guy who seemed awesome and then he threw a steel post at my head. The good news is that the potential slave handled himself much better than that guy. He paid the bill and excused himself. My line of questioning did seem to be a bit intimidating thought it was just casual banter. He seemed nice enough. He claimed to have slave training though we never really got to discuss that. His answers to my questions made him seem like his addition to my world would lead to criminal charges being brought against me. Surprisingly, I’m not really looking for that kind of drama. I just want someone who can rub my feet and make breakfast. Maybe my standards are too high.
A couple weeks ago a friend of mine tried to hook me up with a bartender she knows. The bartender seemed kind of quirky. I liked him. He seemed excited about kinky things. I was game. At the next bar my friend started talking to someone else and they both agreed that the bartender was a super person “he just has a little bit of a drug problem,” they tell me. This is New Orleans, everyone has a drug problem. It’s not usually even mentioned. It goes without saying, so the fact that they said something made me curious “what kind of drug problem?” “Oh well ya know, sometimes he, ugh well,” they stammered and tried to dodge my question. “Sometimes he smokes crack” it comes out. Crack — really? Hmmmm, I can’t see a problem with that.
Are you fucking kidding me? I remember a time when I would not consider dating anyone shorter than myself. Now my criteria looks more like this:

No Felons, No Crackheads, No one who throws things (no fits, no steel posts, no punches, nothing).

Do you think my standards are too high?
This is the city that care forgot. The town of misfit toys. Everyone here is damaged goods. I get that. Really I do. I just wanna believe in love and romance in a world where gravity keeps steel posts firmly planted on the ground, where crackheads are not the best opportunity to have a fun filled night on the town, where I might meet someone at a vegan restaurant and not immediately assume that another meeting with him could lead to a rico charge.
Oh love, you evasive temptress. I’ll happily settle for lust, passion, intellectual stimulation. That last one is really just a sarcastic shot in the dark. This town attracts that certain type of distraught intellectual who wanders into a bar alone and stays there for thirty years. By the time I bump into them they usually appear as through they have been smoking crack and hitting themselves in the heard with a steel post.

 

 

3 thoughts on “Maybe My Standards Are Too High

  1. Are my standards too high or does my dream woman not exist? I want a long term relationship with a woman who is turned on by helping me grow a large feminine ass and boobs! Spending a quiet evening drinking wine and letting her rub Premarin cream into my hips ass and boobs every night and letting her play with them is my idea of a romantic evening! They just don’t seem to exist!

  2. Turned on, sure. Want to assist in the transition of someone unknown? That is more of a professional service. Every night and your fetish becomes a lifestyle. I’ll talk to you about it, I will even take your money to assist in your development, but I’m not looking to fetishize the transition of a total stranger with every second of free time I have. I can’t imagine very many women are. I might get excited about helping someone I care for transition sex and gender identities, but the main point there is that I already care for that person. I have lots of kinks, some folks are really particular, it is possible that you could find someone who wants to take a total stranger and dedicate themselves to developing your curves but if I were you I wouldn’t wait around looking for a loving relationship with a woman who wants to transform you. Your run of the mill kinky sex loving pervert has a hard time finding a relationship with a femdomme. Being that specific and demanding would make it quite difficult to find a genuine connection. If you chase two rabbits they will both get away.

    Email me directly if you would like to develop a professional relationship.

    • You make some good points here. I am saying that I am looking for a long term loving relationship with a woman who is excited by watching me grow curves. I find it ironic that the only women who are turned on by this are Dominants and lesbians-I actually had a hetero woman break off with me when she noticed my growing boobs! Dominants are not looking for something long term and lesbians are just that: Lesbian! (not interested in men) Several years ago I had a lesbian roommate who knew I was playing with female hormones. We were playing on her computer and when I went to sit down my underpants ripped. I thought they were just getting ready to be replaced but when I put on a pair of panties that were too big for me when I bought them they fit perfectly. When I realized my ass was getting fatter from the hormones I went from totally unaroused to rock hard in less than 3 seconds and when she held my hand and smiled at me the emotional closeness I felt when she looked me in the eyes made me come in my panties! Words just cannot describe the emotional bond I felt! That is what I am looking for in a long term relationship!
      What is that elusive thing called love? Is it something we trip over and fall into? Is it something caused by a butt naked little angel named Cupid who shoots an arrow at you? No, understand that you don’t fall in love with someone when you are with them. You fall in love later when you are by yourself thinking about them afterwards. Think about that. You go out with someone maybe even only once and later you think “this person is so…this person has such…this person has so many qualities…and so on. Then you get that funny feeling in your chest, start saying there name, bringing them up in conversations with others and then you realize wow! Thus you see it is not a thing we stumble into. It is a PROCESS we do to ourselves! Of course the real magic is when you can just do that process with someone. Me, it takes a bit of time but I also look for those qualities I’ve described.
      Are you still at the same E-mail? If not message me at ModelMayhem.

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