I'm learning a lot about myself through the men I'm around.
About my needs and my personality.
I am learning how I'm perceived by my sexy male counterparts.
Last week, laying next to my latest, our heads rested on separate pillows as we looked at one another.
Without saying anything we just stared into each others eyes.
What does that look mean? he asked.
Nothing, I responded.
You are a weird girl.
And I laughed.
This isn't the first time a lover has told me this.
Though I think crazy is usually more prevalent.
Though it's only been a couple weeks.
Give him time and surely that adjective will be added with all the rest.
One thing I have definitely resolved in the last few gents?
Physical Intimacy is a Requirement of Dating The Resa.
This may sound like a redundancy redundant statement, but I frequently find myself dating the unamorous guy whose got issues when it comes to canoodling.
I can't keep up with you.
You're like the guy in the relationship.
I am not healthy for you. You should not want to kiss me.
And all the while I'm wondering why we have to talk at all when we could shut up and let our bodies speak for us.
The longest, most intense, serious relationship I've had was with a guy who, from the beginning, couldn't keep his hands off me.
We made it two whole dates before sharing a kiss and to this day, he is the only person I ever "watched" a movie with three times in a row without stopping.
That would be Coffee and Cigarettes which I never actually saw until years later.
The last guy I spent four unblissful months with only spent a few weeks of that time sharing his mad whore skills with me.
I spent the rest of those months trying to hide my needs and urges for physical intimacy and accepted that our dates instead consisted of watching youtube videos of writers speaking on the importance of vulnerability.
How sexy.
Why, you ask the obvious, did I then stick around all those months?
Because precisely when I'd hit the wall of frigid indifference he'd toss me a tiny nectar of affection and I'd think maybe I'd FINALLY get my sexy whore's mad skills back.
Alas.
He was merely a 6'4" tease.
He doesn't deserve a penis.
Somewhere along the 8th circle of Dante's Dating Inferno I forgot what it was like when there was actually passion in my relationship.
Latest Guy has reminded me how crucial it is for me to be with a guy who wants my clothes off as much as I want him to take them off.
On our first date? He grabbed my ass.
On our second date? We made out in a park.
On our third date? Well......it was even hotter.
And did he need to talk about his feelings afterwards?
Or need to text me incessantly the next day?
Or take to instantly calling me Dear and Love so it felt like we were already in a relationship?
No.
Just good old fashioned hot dirty fun.
I have been a deprived woman for years.
I feel like I should send him a fruit basket or something.
And I know everyone has their opinions on dating.
And Mother tells me there are certain qualities I need to look for.
And books tell me the do's and don'ts of how to land prince charming.
And that's swell and I'm open to all of it but I have my own disclaimer that I am hereby never compromising again.
If a guy's appetite doesn't match mine?
I'm not gonna stick around hoping he gets hungry.
This woman will have her desserts.
Somebody somewhere shares my affinity for whipped cream.
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