When I woke up, I was STILL beyond humiliated. I was moving onto pure fury (Hell hath no fury and all that … SO true!). And I was buggered if I was going to give Mr. X the satisfaction of calling / texting / emailing him.
So I sat down and poured this all out into an open letter, which I then posted on my Dear Diary page of The Sexy Site.
“Let’s get something straight. I signed up to this website for random fucks, not random mind fucks.
If you don’t want to see me anymore, just tell me. It’s not like you have to impress me or keep me sweet or anything. I mean, I’m hardly going to badmouth you to our respective friends / colleagues / families. Or throw you out on the street so that you’re homeless. Or have you fired from your job after accusing you of sexual harassment. Or sleep with your best friend.
We’re only lovers, remember? I don’t know your email address or where you work or who any of your friends are and nor do I want to. I just wanted a part-time lover. And I thought you did too.
So what’s up with the mind games? And why can’t you just tell me? I know that I have no hold over you and you have no obligation towards me. Except one: honesty. And if that is not clear enough, I will spell it out for you: just be straight with me.
… It shouldn’t be that hard.
You were pretty honest and straightforward up to this point. You had no problem telling me exactly how hard you wanted me to pinch your nipples or how badly you were craving my tongue up your asshole or how hot it was making you at the thought of some guy sodomising you while you were giving me one. So why the games all of a sudden?
The whole reason I signed up to this website was so that I didn’t have to deal with games.
So please. Don’t waste my time. Don’t string me along with illicit phone calls and endless hot, sexy, graphic texts, agree to meet up again, set a date and then disappear.
… Seriously?
I thought we were all adults here. The least you could do is tell me you’re not interested anymore.
We are lovers or we aren’t. That is why we met on this site.
There is no need to play games.
So why do it?
You don’t have to massage my ego or sweet talk me or flatter me or try to impress me or lie to me or pretend after we have met up and slept together.
I would have slept with you again anyway.
Because it’s very simple, see? If I sleep with you once, chances are I’ll do it again. If I wasn’t interested, either I would have walked away the minute I set eyes on you, or the moment the sex was over, I would have told you straight: “Thanks. But no thanks. I’m done.”
And I was hoping you were of a similar mind and would’ve done the same.
… Obviously not!
So, I’ll reiterate: I am not here to play mind games. Only games in the bedroom.
I thought that much was clear.”
Hmmm ... bitter much?
... But it seemed like such a good idea at the time ... Damn! Hindsight is a bitch.
Then I sent him a private note on The Sexy Site regarding the recent test results I had received (good to go, fyi!).
But still nothing … I could have screamed!
And I was still totally flummoxed by his mind games with me. Why did he feel the need to play Master Manipulator with a sure thing?
Two things were sure: I was beyond confused. And (dammit): I still wanted him. SO badly.
Oh dear, I could hear that saying dancing around in my head (the one a Belgian friend used to describe me when it came to matters of the opposite sex):
So I sat down and poured this all out into an open letter, which I then posted on my Dear Diary page of The Sexy Site.
“Let’s get something straight. I signed up to this website for random fucks, not random mind fucks.
If you don’t want to see me anymore, just tell me. It’s not like you have to impress me or keep me sweet or anything. I mean, I’m hardly going to badmouth you to our respective friends / colleagues / families. Or throw you out on the street so that you’re homeless. Or have you fired from your job after accusing you of sexual harassment. Or sleep with your best friend.
We’re only lovers, remember? I don’t know your email address or where you work or who any of your friends are and nor do I want to. I just wanted a part-time lover. And I thought you did too.
So what’s up with the mind games? And why can’t you just tell me? I know that I have no hold over you and you have no obligation towards me. Except one: honesty. And if that is not clear enough, I will spell it out for you: just be straight with me.
… It shouldn’t be that hard.
You were pretty honest and straightforward up to this point. You had no problem telling me exactly how hard you wanted me to pinch your nipples or how badly you were craving my tongue up your asshole or how hot it was making you at the thought of some guy sodomising you while you were giving me one. So why the games all of a sudden?
The whole reason I signed up to this website was so that I didn’t have to deal with games.
So please. Don’t waste my time. Don’t string me along with illicit phone calls and endless hot, sexy, graphic texts, agree to meet up again, set a date and then disappear.
… Seriously?
I thought we were all adults here. The least you could do is tell me you’re not interested anymore.
We are lovers or we aren’t. That is why we met on this site.
There is no need to play games.
So why do it?
You don’t have to massage my ego or sweet talk me or flatter me or try to impress me or lie to me or pretend after we have met up and slept together.
I would have slept with you again anyway.
Because it’s very simple, see? If I sleep with you once, chances are I’ll do it again. If I wasn’t interested, either I would have walked away the minute I set eyes on you, or the moment the sex was over, I would have told you straight: “Thanks. But no thanks. I’m done.”
And I was hoping you were of a similar mind and would’ve done the same.
… Obviously not!
So, I’ll reiterate: I am not here to play mind games. Only games in the bedroom.
I thought that much was clear.”
Hmmm ... bitter much?
... But it seemed like such a good idea at the time ... Damn! Hindsight is a bitch.
Then I sent him a private note on The Sexy Site regarding the recent test results I had received (good to go, fyi!).
But still nothing … I could have screamed!
And I was still totally flummoxed by his mind games with me. Why did he feel the need to play Master Manipulator with a sure thing?
Two things were sure: I was beyond confused. And (dammit): I still wanted him. SO badly.
Oh dear, I could hear that saying dancing around in my head (the one a Belgian friend used to describe me when it came to matters of the opposite sex):
x
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