Suburban Melissa is stuck in Milwaukee dealing with some family issues, so we have re-scheduled our date for tomorrow. That suits me fine, as Sundays are pretty slow for me but leaves me without plans for tonight. To make matters worse, I have not been laid in the last three weekends and I'm feeling unbelievably horny, the kind of horniness that very well may make me do something I'll regret if I go out to one of my fave spots. I have had a couple phone-sex encounters with Christy, an out-of-town girl I know but erotic banter with her tends toward the banal (I want to feel you touch you taste you) and I'm questioning whether I actually may get more satisfaction from a Betty Page photo. Or a 1987 JC Penney catalog, but that's another story.
The booty call remains an option, though I'd rather not. The most obvious candidate is Submissive Liz, as she is always available and as I've ignored her last two booty call requests. I met Submissive Liz over a year ago at a bar---she heard me quote an extended soliloquy from MacBeth (show-off that I am) and introduced herself. Zaftig, with dark curly hair and olive skin she works as an EMT and lives with her mom in a nearby suburb. She is in her mid-thirties and
is half-Mexican, half-Italian. I told her on our first date date (to Rigoletto) that I had hoped she was African American since that would make me feel more hip. (As an aside, I told that story to Urban Melissa who said, "David, that is soooo wrong.")
Some people wear their sexual proclivities on their sleeves, and I had Submissive Liz pegged for a b&d afficianado before we got to my apartment. Call it a hunch, something in the way she responded to my jokes and the phrases she used. A strong hint came after we left the bar together and were at Underdogg munching on fries. She told me that she had recently lost 25 pounds. I told her to stand up, and she rose with an alacrity that surprised me. I told her to turn around and she did so, glancing at me for approval afterwards. At any rate, my read of her was accurate and Submissive Liz embraced the role of the bottom with relish, taking delight in the series of degrading tasks she was ordered to perform. It should be said, however, that I have always respected the boundaries that she set and have never pushed her in a direction that made her uncomfortable.
The first problem is, sex with her got stale rather quickly. I can get off on bondage games and role-playing, but only as games. It's not a lifestyle for me, and I find the leather scene crudely comical. I crave variety---as a writer friend of mine so aptly put it, sometimes top, sometimes bottom, sometimes pretzel. The last time we slept together, about a month ago, I was so bored I could barely sustain an erection. Since that time, she has drunkenly texted me twice---"your slave needs to be put in her place"---but I did not respond either time.
The second problem is, she has been gaining a LOT of weight in the last couple months. I don't mind zaftig--- plump girls can be sexy but excessive cellulite is decidedly NOT. I've considered issuing an order, i.e., your master commands you to lose 20 pounds, but I think that would be in poor taste.
Another thing is, I enjoy performing cunnilingus. Really, really enjoy it. I'm amazed at the number of female friends who tell me that their boyfriends don't like to go down, or do so reluctantly and with obvious distaste. With an attractive woman in my bed, I'm as happy as Pooh-Bear with his honey pot. As I'm always the "top"with Liz, it's awkward incorporating cunnilingus into our sexual activities. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being serviced as much as the next man, but the lack of variety wears thin over time.
The second most likely booty-call candidate is Mar, but that's also a road best not taken. Urban Melissa tells me that each time I sleep with Mar, I'm fucking her up a little bit. Not to mention creating expectations that I won't be able to fulfill. And truthfully, it hasn't always been easy weaning myself off of Mar, either. I'll write about Mar at some point in the near future---in the meantime, perhaps I should confine myself to dating only women who are over 30. I might go out for a drink to my regular spots, but I'll probably hold off for Suburban Melissa tomorrow.
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