Corner of Confusion and Let Down Alley

My craigslist ad has gotten more responses than I thought it would, though no response has led to anything close as to what I have with Patrick. It's been a real eye opener to experience first hand the differences between the straight and gay worlds.

One of my respondents is a pretty attractive lady in her early 50's. We've been trading emails for almost two weeks now, and she invited me over to dinner last night at her house. There was obviously chemistry when I got there, but clearly far more baggage involved than with Patrick. She told me about her son (son? not mentioned before) and her current divorce (divorce? that's a new one) and how she's not sure if she'll even be in this town three months down the road (three months? okay then). Then of course came out the ultimate straight-dating buzz kill: she's just looking for friends.

Just friends? Jeezus. What the fuck's up with answering a "men seeking women" personal ad then? I know what's up with it, maybe I just had forgotten how contrived heterosexual dating can be. All the games. All the shades of truth. All the saying "yes" when they really mean "no" - I still want pussy but not all the bullshit. Am I asking too much?

Opulent Opportunities

Whenever I get back to my quaint little hometown after visiting a big city, always the first thing that comes to mind is, "man, this is fucking sweet!" After all, people from all over the world come to vacation in the city in which I live, so it can't be all that bad, right?

I returned about two weeks ago from my disappointing trip to Houston. Since then I have seen more women in this town than ever before. And the strangest part is that I catch them looking at me with my newly honed observation skills, thanks to my fellow bisexual blogger, Brad. I'm not sure what to think - are there more women? Have mine eyes seen the glory? Were they looking before and I didn't know how to observe? Has this blog helped me find a newfound confidence that exudes from my personality? I'm not sure what it is, but something has changed.

Examples: I got a huge sparkling smile from a new coffee shop girl - am I dreaming? I felt a spark of interest from a tiny Japanese woman who's now the hostess at my most frequented breakfast dive. I busted the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in this town checking me out where she tends bar - and twice in five minutes. I made the shooter girl at the bar blush when I asked her name. And most recently ran into an old friend at the ski mountain who was there with an office colleague - she was totally hot - and when I asked them to join me for a drink, my eyes met hers and it felt like a lightning storm. I played it cool but later my friend, who's happily married, said, "dude she likes you."

A Funny Thing Happened Online

I've noticed before that the more desperate a guy acts around women, the more turned off by him they become. It's a strange dynamic, very similar to a predator/prey relationship. The hunters gather for the kill, and the hunted panic the closer he gets. The successful hunter is the one with the most patience, the one who lays in wait, intentions disguised, then pounces unexpectedly. A successful kill always requires cunning, deception, and skill.

As I've decided to branch out and explore my sexuality, I've been flirting a bit with guys online. Since I'm pretty new at this, I find myself taking the roll of the hunted. Which is fine, because having to always be the aggressor in the heterosexual world can get kind of exhausting. As the prey, you just relax and have them come to you, if you want to be preyed upon, that is.

Being able to sit back, as potential suitors stumble and fall all over themselves, and effortlessly employ selectivity preferences fucking rules. Now I feel the power and privilege that women do as they sit on the throne of sexual dynamics, possible mates paraded in front of them like a carnal banquet, "no, no, no, yes, no, no, no."

It's been a real eye opener to see what men are like when it's clear they are thinking with their dicks, and most notably what my reaction is when they come on so strong, and how similar that reaction is to those that I have gotten from women when desperation has taken control of my brain.

A recent exchange was a prime example of this. A gentleman with nice photos of a thick, juicy cock sent me a few messages saying he liked my profile. After an exchange or two, we started to discuss the possibility of meeting for a tryst. That's when he said, "sounds good, I'm up for anything, I'm free tonight and all this weekend."

Right away I lost interest. "Tonight?!" I thought, "wow, this guy moves fast. Too fast!" And suddenly I felt that deer-in-the-headlights sensation, like I'd been singled out for the kill but like I wasn't ready to be taken. Don't these predators know when to strike and to do it gracefully and subversively? Didn't he know that I was playing the selectivity role and he was supposed to cleverly make it seem like sleeping with him was my idea all along?

Immediately I realized that I was playing that role, that I had become the fickle love interest that had left me so confused with women before. It made me realize that all the women I had pursued but never gotten throughout my life had all acted out of this basic principle of attraction/repulsion. I had come on too strong and extinguished their desire with my advances, and now I was getting a chance to wear the other shoe. To see how a strong advance could diffuse my curiosity in an instant.

Sure seems easier to let the suitors come to me, to pick and choose as I please, rather than to make a fool of myself trying to be the potential mate among the pack of dumb-ass hyenas clambering all over each other, snapping, nipping, yelping, fighting amongst themselves for the tiny scraps of pussy-meat tossed their way.

Subversive Rejection Feeds Misogyny

Another post by HyperSexualGirl got me thinking about the battle of the sexes.

Well over a year ago I had the best first date I have ever had. We hit it off, we shared the same philosophies and ideas, same favorite movies, same books, favorite bands and more. I couldn't believe it. Could my luck with women finally be turning around? All hints to the positive.

Before the date even ended, she asked me out on the second date. Unprecedented, I thought, this is new territory and it feels great! But alas, how short the euphoria would last!

The next day upon reflection, how well the date went, how the conversation just flowed, how we had so much in common, I realized that on the date something happened that has never happened to me before. She spoke in language that connected with my soul. The way she formed her sentences, the way she put her words together and the way she expressed her ideas, it turned me on! My heart and mind felt relieved that maybe I had finally found The One. Her personality was truly that attractive to me. I felt so blessed to have met this person!

Resisting the foolish temptation to become her husband in my imagination, and not wanting to seem desperate, I waited until the next day after to call and thank her for a great date. Just a regular message: hey it was great I had an awesome time, looking forward to seeing you again. Not overbearing, not over the top, not over-impassioned, not psycho, just casual.

Contrary to all prominent indicators, however, she never called me back.

Three weeks later she finally emailed me (what could be more cowardly?) saying she got back together with her "ex" and that I was a "great guy" and all that. Now, it's fine for her to get "more serious again" with her ex, but what she doesn't know is that we have mutual friends... And there is no ex!

Was she suffering from an utter lack of integrity? Did she flat-out lie? Was it all because I didn't kiss her after the date? If only she'd tell me the truth. I knew the ex story was BS, and leaving me for three weeks to contemplate why I might be getting blown off after such a great date was just absolute cruelty. Was my time and emotions not even worth a 15-second return phone call?! Apparently not, and it amounted to absolute disrespect.

Despite my determination to not blame all women for the pain and anguish caused me by the few, stuff like this plays tricks on one's mind. It fucks with your self esteem, diminishes your self worth. The guy comes away with nothing positive, nothing constructive, no advice or direction to learn from the experience. The guy is left with nothing more than one big "WHAT THE FUCK?!" and that's only one step away from saying "FUCKING LYING BITCH" and that happens enough times and the next step is "FUCKING WOMEN" because the culmination of experiences has no positive return for your emotional investment. All you get is confusion, wasted time, and the painful conclusion that you must have gotten rejected. The let down is a thousand times worse, because not only are you rejected, but you didn't even get the respect of her honesty, which could have saved you thinking about her so much, all that empty wishing, the hoping beyond hope that it's REAL this time.

In some ways I believe this reactive misogyny has happened to me. I have been deceived and hurt so many times by women: blown off, given the wrong phone number, told "yes" to a date then they drop off the face of the earth... one woman even gave me her boyfriend's phone number! Now it's hard to think of a more dishonest, disrespectful, manipulative, cruel and inhumane way to treat another human being. To use me as an instrument of jealousy, to realize rejection in the form of the threat of violence: "I'll kick your ass for asking out my girlfriend!"

Ladies, understand that by not having the GUTS to tell us men the truth when it comes to how you react to our advances, you are only doing humankind a terrible disservice, and merely making peace and love an even more distant dream. Men who face constant and continuous rejection without courtesy or explanation, become the Hitlers, Kilmer Rouge, and Ted Bundy's of the world.

Yes, women, believe it or not you do have that much power. Please use it wisely, and just be honest with men.

Thanks.

Pussy Envy

Aside from the fact that women control sex, I am jealous of women in many ways. Which is funny, because female friends of mine have said they are jealous of men. The grass is always greener I guess.

Women have curvy hips, framed by soft mammagraphic teardrop breasts of incredible beauty, nipples, neckbones, shoulders. Smaller, less muscular features than men, pretty hands, small feet, sexy knees and elbows. Moreover, women get to have a pussy, a way more complex sex organ than a penis, much less erratic and prone to malfunction, one that could likely keep up with my superfluous sex drive throughout the day.

Women’s bodies are capable of comparatively extreme sensuality, the body interconnected to and fine-tuned with the clitoris, which provides much more intense pleasure than a cock does for a man, and functions for longer than any man can hope to last and yet still be able to cum.

The pussy offers a virtual yacht of ecstasy compared to the drag-race cock: pussy provides a luxurious cruise, good for hours of foreplay and sex, whereas the cock burns all it's fuel in one shot, blows it's engine in a quarter mile and has to be restarted for the next race.

I’m jealous to get fucked in the pussy, to be filled up, to have that superior organ be able to engulf and consume the powerful phallus.

I wish I could be a female stripper, a fantasy I can never fulfill. Even with extensive, irreversible sex-change surgery, medical miracles simply cannot recreate the natural beauty of a woman’s body.

Before I came out to myself, I couldn’t admit that I was jealous that women get to suck cock. Now I’m more comfortable with myself, so that is one thing I can see what it is like, but certainly not from a woman’s perspective.

I’m jealous of Victoria’s Secret, lingerie, sexy dresses and skirts, and having the curves to fill them out! Jealous of makeup and glamour and heels and getting to wear all that in public. Some might say whatever, you can go out in heels if you want, but that's not the whole point - I want to be able to go out in heels as a woman -- without a cock -- to feel that lifting of my hips and curve of my back and the tilting forward and up of my pelvis, turning my non-existent pussy outward. I will never feel that, and that is the root of my jealously of women.

They're so fucking sexy, have so many different outfits and sexy things to wear. The hips, waist, cleavage… the pussy - KAPOW!!! Sha-bam! I've been jealous to have all that since my earliest memories. Even when I was a small boy I noticed how curvy girls’ lower backs and asses were, and I was jealous that I wasn't shaped that way. I had pussy envy.

Women and the Control of Men

A comment by HyperSexualGirl on one of my recent posts got me thinking about how women control men. She said she found it curious that I was jealous of women's control over men, because she didn't think of it that way. I can respect that and responded in kind; but I also would ask, does someone have to be cognizant of control to have it? I would have to argue a resounding no.

The way straight guys act around women is cold, hard evidence that they are under control like puppets on a string. At the bars, men encircle single women with attention, each hoping to get a piece of action, and it is she who decides who is going to get it, if any of them at all. She decides. Under these circumstances, who is in control? Who holds the power?

Straight men, whether married, single, or in a relationship, all act completely different around their buddies than they do in front of women. Why? Because they know if they say something piggish they might not be getting laid for a while. Again, men's behavior indicates they are manipulated by the chance of getting some pussy.

Need more examples? Guys do stupid, stupid things to try to get laid. Guys will clear their schedule if it means they have a chance at hooking up. They'll drive 400 miles. They'll spend hundreds at the bar or on a date. Think of it this way, have you ever seen a hot woman on the side of the road with car trouble? Ten guys will inevitably be clambering over each other to help her first. Because they are nice? Ha! Just put a regular Joe on the side of the road and see how fast he gets help. Women control men. Period.

How else do women use the prospect of sex to gain benefits in countless situations? Ladies Night no cover, getting bought drinks, passing out fake phone numbers, it's all a ruse to manipulate and control men. Some women are very verbal about their abuse of foolish guys who will shell out for drinks all night long. I have personally overheard them boast of their abilities to keep the drinks flowing from guys they know don't have a chance at any action. The manipulative control can make an innocent bystander completely sick.

Not all women can control all men, though. The factors include two things, and two things only: her relative attractiveness, and his relative attraction to her. Without the attraction, there is no want or need for her pussy, so her power to control him is limited at best. There are certainly other ways that she could make his life hell, but if you're withholding a pussy that he doesn't want, sorry sister, you've got no chips left. And when your sex life is bankrupt, he'll be going to get controlled somewhere else. Maybe a girlfriend or a hooker, who knows, but he's going to get it somewhere. Else.

And what, may I ask, makes strip clubs so popular with men? It's probably not the food, big screen TV's or the great deals on drinks. If women had no power or control over men, the guys sure as hell wouldn't be sitting there bleeding money, getting cock-teased and blue-balled all night, unless of course he can afford enough lap dances to actually get off dry. And that's a double-edged sword, believe me, as it will make a guy ten times hornier than he was before. And men practically become gorillas when they're super horny.

Still need more evidence that women control sex and therefore control men? The fact that rape exists. Don't get me wrong, rape is a terrible crime, my point is that the woman decides whether sex is consensual or not. Even after the fact she could technically decide that she had really said "no," and he had raped her. Even if that's not what happened, it could quickly become, literally, a he-said-she-said case. Now, who is the judge likely to believe? Furthermore, what man could go into a hospital, claiming he was raped last night by a woman, saying, "she fucked me!" They'd congratulate him, give him a ribbon and a pat on the back, and send him on his merry way.

The fact is, women decide who gets laid and when. And after men fall all over themselves trying to impress them with society's ridiculous Cinderella games and knightly expectations, what do they get? You can be certain, if it's anything at all, she controls that decision.

Women control sex. Men want sex. Therefore women control men. Straight men, that is.