147. Life falters, then goes on

So…without boring you with too much detail, I was admitted to hospital quite suddenly in mid-January with a random infection which made me very, very sick.

I spent a week hooked up to intravenous antibiotics, having endless tests, feeling tired and alone.  I wasn’t really feeling up to visitors, and I did have a couple, but in times of crisis my singleness is very apparent.  Fortunately I have become resilient over the years and I didn’t sulk about the lack of attention or having to get an Uber home when they finally discharged me.

My recovery took a few weeks of more antibiotics, and my immune system was at rock bottom so I picked up a throat infection too.  Taking handfuls of pills everyday and feeling deadly tired as my body tried to right itself, meant I wasn’t my usually flirtatious and eager self.

The Fisherman was appropriately concerned when he found out.  He came to visit a couple of weeks later and I told him the whole story, which he listened to patiently before we took to the bedroom for a dose of his special brand of medicine.

While The Boy Next Door has somewhat drifted away and into the arms of a new girl who has taken his fancy, The Fisherman and I have been together every other week. We continue to explore each other’s bodies, likes and turn ons, and talk has turned to fantasies of swinging.

Talking dirty in the throes of fucking about different scenarios is definitely a turn on for both of us. The Fisherman gets very excited about the idea of seeing me fuck another man in front of him (he is a total voyeur and I am an exhibitionist – so, yay!), and of course the idea of me with another woman, and threesomes, is enticing to him as well. We have talked about going to a sex club and taking our chances with the other couples, and the idea turns me on a lot.  So far he hasn’t fixated on the idea, like The Toolman did with his obsessive pursuit of his fantasies, and we haven’t moved beyond talk.

If we continue to spend time together I think it will happen, and I would certainly like to have that experience again, but I am learning that I need to stop divulging that part of myself so soon to men.  It should be an exciting adventure saved for the right time in a relationship when I have built the foundations, trust and intimacy with a true partner.

Not a reason to hook up with me; a means to your fantasy’s end.

The Fisherman is happy company and possibly the best lover I have ever had.  He is focussed on my pleasure and takes his time, ensuring I have a sensual, prolonged, satisfying and intensely interesting experience every time.

He has blindfolded me, teased me, pulled my hair and held my wrists in just the way I like.  The way that brings my attention to the sensations he is generating in my body, the tingling and buzzing, the building pleasure and the eventual release.  I’ve found I like to feel slightly restrained and relinquish control of my pleasure to a skilled erotic artist like The Fisherman.

It is a huge turn on, and he makes me orgasm hard and often.

The Fisherman is a nice man, but we aren’t going to fall in love.  He is older than he told me;  he said he was 52 and I have found out he is almost 58, which makes his sexual performance all the more impressive.  Never mind how I found out, but I know he has lied to me about his age.  Why?  Well to fuck a younger woman I guess.  Everything else he has told me checks out, but we don’t do sleepovers and I haven’t been to his house, so he could be lying about more.  Does it really matter?  I guess not, and I haven’t bothered to let him know I have found him out.

As nice as The Fisherman is, he and I won’t be a couple.  He is sweet and thoughtful but a little pedestrian for me.  He works nightshifts, goes fishing and sees his grown up kids.  That is it.  And there is nothing wrong with his simple life, but his schedule doesn’t allow for the time together I would like to build something real.

We would never have the weekends away and couple-type outings The Captain and I used to love.  We simply don’t have much in common, or the love connection.

When he visited this week, we spoke for a while over a glass of wine as usual, and I told him I wanted to know him better before we visited a sex club together.  I explained they can be predatory environments for a single woman and that I need to trust he would stick by my side.

“Perhaps when you a have a day with some extra time, you can come over early and we can go out for dinner before coming back here to have sex?” I requested.

“We don’t exactly talk much when you come over. “ I smiled.  “We can have a real conversation over dinner, get to know each other better, and if we build a little more intimacy the experience will be even better.” I told him.

The Fisherman agreed quickly.

“Yes, having that connection would definitely improve the sex club experience, and I would want to stay the night afterwards so we can have the best part.  The intimate sex.”

I am satisfied with that answer for now.

For a few months now, I have spent lots of time talking to The Brunette.  She decided to move overseas to pursue her career goals, and The Redhead was set to follow her once she was established in her new city.  Things went awry as they often do in long distance relationships and their love story has come to a spectacularly explosive, yet drawn-out, conclusion.  The Brunette and I have spent many hours on the phone dissecting the minutia of their conversation, texts and their whole relationship, as she comes to terms with her new life.  The Redhead has turned out to be quite the prick; controlling, abusive, cruel, frustrating and jealous.

The Brunette has struggled with the break up, of course.  Like most women she knows she could fix him if he gave her the chance, but like all men he isn’t that self aware or humble.  She has had her obsessive moments where she has cyber stalked him, and the clueless girls he is fucking to get over her. And she has done some dating too.  Mainly short term flings that provide company and remind her that not every man is going to speak to her the way The Redhead now does.

The Brunette and I have become closer than ever before and it is truly a shame she isn’t nearby anymore, and that we didn’t have this close bond when we lived in the same city. I am her confidante, therapist, supporter and sounding board.

We have talked about many, many things, including a vacation together.  We have talked so much about it, that I had a dream she and I were at a beach resort with The Fisherman and had threesomes together nightly on our hotel’s king-size bed.  It was a fantasy I could get on board with, and it made me sad I don’t have her here.  We have become very close friends and I choose to think The Redhead came into my life to deliver me two important things;

  1. My sexual confidence.
  2. The Brunette’s friendship.

And now we are done with him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

7 thoughts on “147. Life falters, then goes on

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