I’ve gotten a surprising amount of action in the boot-cast. Fireman stopped in twice — yeah he couldn’t care less about a cast — and slept over once. I don’t always sleep well when he’s here but I love it when he stays over, that much testosterone at rest is just amazing. We fucked twice, as usual, but then a third time (since we had time), and I guess he’d only brought two condoms, so he fucked me without one the third time. Pulled out, of course, because I think he doesn’t know I’m already post-menopause, but given what I imagine to be his active sex life, I was surprised. It was kind of great.

Kyle also came by, once for the usual quick fuck and once to hang out, have dinner, watch a movie and have sex. I have to say, Fireman may be my favorite, but for actual quality of sex, Kyle’s the best. There’s just something about the way we move together, i just kind of melt into him, it’s much more sensual than with anyone else. In spite of the fact that I think he’s made of 99% bullshit. I was fingering his ass with his cock in my mouth, and he was so open, so into it, we talked about it later, and he’d really like me to get some toys and get more assertive with fucking him. I haven’t really done that before, but I’ll give it a shot. His responsiveness arouses me, it would be worth exploring how that goes.

Boyfriend also got drunk one night last week and started drunk-sexting me. It was funny because I was at dinner with a friend and was just passing him my phone to look at something when the “I want to cum inside you” text came through. Whoopsies. I thought about putting him off but I wanted the company, so he showed up to drunk-fuck. I have to admit, I don’t really love sex with him, we really probably should stop that. But I do love his company, and the next morning we ordered in breakfast and watched a nice quiet movie and cuddled on the couch for a few hours, it was really gentle and nice.

No moral in this post, just funny they seem to come in waves. J. is talking about getting together for a ‘drink’ soon too, and new guy B. — older, musician, very sweet — wants to follow up first date with a dinner thing.  When it rains it pours…

I sort of have a boyfriend. We agreed we’d keep things casual but I don’t know what that means. He’s not seeing anyone else and i haven’t since this started. Well, okay, the fireman once, but that was early on. We went away together for the July 4th weekend, we go on actual dates, and we’re also okay running into each other and not going home together. He’s also a local at my bar (open again! yay!), which both of us swore we’d never do, but here we are. Still seeing each other. He’s only 35, which makes me nervous, and I don’t know if he knows how old I am. It’s now been long enough I don’t want to bring it up, but what if he doesn’t and it’s weird? My birthday is coming up soon so I guess it’ll come up then.

G. got in touch last week after months of no contact. I asked the girls at the hair salon about dating other people. Amanda said I should do what makes me happy which is, of course, the only answer.

We hadn’t communicated well the past few days, so I agreed to G.’s date, but I’m going to cancel. Last night I went over to the boyfriend’s place and we had amazing, caring, beautiful sex. Napped and then fucked again. He didn’t sleep well, got up eventually and went to the couch. I felt a bit bereft and ended up leaving early, around 6, to come home. Nevertheless, it was a lovely night, and I don’t think I want to see G. tonight. I’m going to lie and put it off, defer a decision instead of making one. It’s cowardly but I want to keep my options open.

I haven’t written in a while, I guess. I did finally give up on Kyle — great sex but he’s just too damaged. I’m still seeing the beautiful boy and I’ve decided it’s just going to have to be okay to be a little bit in love with him. He slept over with me the first night in my new apartment, it was so nice. We’re seeing each other somewhat more regularly now — he told me I have to initiate dates, too, and not just wait for him. I’m trying really hard not to call him every fucking day.

And my fireman is awesome. He came over tonight – was driving back up from Virginia, stopped in for a quick fuck. I guess the denim mini was effective, he fucked me standing up in the middle of the apartment. Popped in the shower and dashed out to meet some friends. I fucking love it.

Do I still wish I had a ‘real’ boyfriend? Maybe. But I’m pretty happy with my two lovers.

Saw the beautiful boy last night. Met for dinner (another date!), ate sushi for the first time, came back and fucked. I really do so like him. We are both so open with each other and much more sexually exploratory than with others. It’s really, really nice.

The night before I was at the local bar. Came home with three phone numbers, including a couple who won’t fucking stop calling me. I told them the next day it wasn’t happening – I don’t fuck where I drink. They’ll figure it out eventually.

So life is full of complications and contradictions and I’m sleeping with a fireman and a beautiful 27 year old and who knows what’s up with Kyle and if he thinks I’m somehow being faithful to him while he’s so erratic. And i decided none of it matters. I love them all and I’m having a grand time and I’m just going to live with it.

I loved lying there, talking with the beautiful boy after sex, so open and loving and honest.

Me: Fuck me
Him: Let me get a condom
Me: Wow you really are sober

I met a boy online. I had a lot of reservations about him, but I went on a date anyway. In person he was much greater than his online persona — none of the ‘can I hook up first’ bullshit. On our first date (around the corner from where he works, I paid for everything) he put me in a cab and sent me home. Then regretted it and texted several times trying to hook up. Next day, he came over and we fucked before going out — and it was great. Really great. I came, he came, his very large cock was very happy. We went out to a bar to watch football (yes, I paid again, not a thing for me but apparently it is for some), came back to fuck again. Decided he didn’t want me fucking anyone else and in the middle of fucking me made me promise to be his girlfriend and not fuck anyone else. I said yes but I didn’t really mean it. He doesn’t sleep over — claims it’s a thing. Next day came over before work so we could fuck. And it was awesome. Again. I had a party that night and he came over after work, met a bunch of my friends, was completely charming, but didn’t stay over because he had to work the next day. The following day he texts me a hundred times, so happy to have met me etc. I come back to the city late so we can meet up after his work– but when I text he says it’ll be too late. “Sorry babe.” and that’s the last I hear from him. I text him in the early morning wishing he was here. I text him later in the day asking if he’s still sleeping. It’s New Year’s Day and I haven’t heard from him all day.

Fuck you, Kyle. If you didn’t care, why did you pretend? If you did, why won’t you return my texts? I’d be okay with this being yet another fuck-buddy relationship, but you were the one who upped the emotional game. Was that just so you could fuck with me?

Fuck you.

I’ve spent much of my alone time the last few weeks crying. Being single is weighing on me, and I’m tired of being alone. Tired of being alone at the holidays. Tired of being alone period.

Only three things make me feel better when I’m like this: sex, exercise and helping other people. I haven’t found a volunteer gig or a way to give back. I’m exercising some, but it’s not enough and with all my injuries, I’m pretty restricted. The beautiful boy has been busy — I truly don’t begrudge him it, but it doesn’t help me. G. has been busy. It’s not J.’s job to keep me sane.

So when C. texted me last night, I was all happy. He showed up sober this time. It’s been a while since that drunken night last month, but he worked the last 20 days in a row and then went to Florida. He came by to see me on his way home. Which, from my limited perspective, means he likes me. And wow, I really do like him. He’s happy and he likes to fuck. He likes to fuck me. And he likes to give me pleasure– he notices when I don’t come, and he cares, but he doesn’t push it if I won’t or can’t.

I really do know this is a relationship of convenience, and it’ll never be anything else, and I really do want something more. But right now, I’m happy again, and I love fucking that man.

He semlls lke testosterone and beer. His arm is thrown across me, some of his body weight holding me down. It’ very early and I’m not at all sleepy, but I wouldn’t move for the world. I lay there, breathing him in, quietly. Hours pass before he wakes and fucks me again. This time is even rougher, he’s still drunk and all power, force, release. I get up afterwards to clean up, and I”m bleeding from my anus. Not enough lubrication (he’d tried, a little, using my own wetness, but it didn’t help much).

When he’d arrived, he walked in, stripped me, bent me over and fucked me there in the hall. I’d never fucked in that position before; it’s a little awkward and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to stay bent. Turns out yes, that’s what he wanted, and it was just fine. This is why I work out, right? to stay strong and flexible so I can fuck firemen?

I’m in his arms again after the second go-round and I eventually drift off to sleep, still breathing him in, all quiet in the world.

When we wake in the early morning, he fucks me again, this time pulling out just in time. I wonder if he remembers that he came inside me, twice, last night. My ass sure does.

I take a quick shower even though I’m going to the gym. As much as I’d like to revel in his scent, I doubt my trainer does.

And for the record, again: I really like this man.

So a couple of days after the birthday date, C. texts and I come dashing home from Soho to meet him, on his way back from Brooklyn. Oh! beard grown out from days on vacation, he looks cuter and older. Like the other day, immediate molestation in the hallway. I’m naked before I know what’s what. But joy! I come with him easily, effortlessly. He comes in my mouth. We lie there and chat for a while, fuck a second time. He’s brought condoms this time so he doesn’t have to worry about pulling out. I don’t enlighten him to the fact that it doesn’t matter. He’s a complete knucklehead but I really do like him.

So Bad Annie had a birthday date with the beautiful boy and it was wonderful and horrible. He arrived and oh! so adorable. Immediate molestation in the hallway. He said, early on: “I have a confession to make. I’ve really missed you.” I do so completely adore him.

We had sex for a long time. He really wanted me to give in, give up, to be brutal with him. He wanted me to hit him, to love him, to come and make him come. I’m really just not that girl. I’ll do anything — really. but I don’t have that emotional core he’s looking for, I just don’t. We fucked for four hours. I didn’t come at all. We fucked every possible way. He didn’t come until the very end when he basically masturbated with my assistance.

I don’t know if he loves me or is completely disappointed with me, or both. I felt like I’d let him down.