Please allow me to have a tentative positive outlook on this new acquaintance. We actually had a quite pleasant evening, and I think I dare say that none of the involved parties would have objections to a repeat.

Although, the evening began almost fatal for the rest of our acquaintance, when The Fiancé and I barely managed to get there on time, and found no single man with blonde Golden Retriever anywhere in sight. Now you see, I am huge on being punctual, especially when meeting someone for the first time. It is a matter of respect towards the other person, so I got a little bit upset at having been made wait for quite a long time. We ordered some drinks anyway, working on the principle of benefit of doubt. I had pretty much resorted to having been stood up, when suddenly a rather frazzled looking man stormed into the restaurant rather hectically, seeking us out after some looking around, and without any hello or other sort of greeting sputtered out that he had to take his dog to the hospital, and goodamn waittress, I called her letting her know to tell you about this and to wait up for me.

With that, he suddenly was gone again, leaving The Fiancé and I staring after him a bit confused. I was consoled though - a man who cares about his dog like that is a man who probably runs a bit deeper than others. He returned a few minutes later with his car parked somewhere safe, made a hectic phone call to his vet before even saying a whole lot of anything to either of us, and when he heard that his dog, who got hit by a train that afternoon while he was at work, was in a stable condition, he finally gave us his full attention under a thousand apologies.

I offered him to meet some other time instead, for I understood what it means to worry about and fear for a beloved animal, but he shrugged it off, hence our rather nice evening commenced.

Let's give him an alias, let's call him... Bud. Bud is a man in his very late thirties, putting him in an age range that exceeded our maximum tolerable age for potential partners by at least 4 years. I was a bit apprehensive when I learned his age, and even more when he opened his mouth for the very first time, and much to my surprise I heard a dialect as it is spoken in Germany - which is a whole different issue for people of my nationality altogether. Let's just say that Austrians don't really like Germans a whole lot, so I have to admit much to my own shame that I was hugely prejudiced the second I heard that he was a German. However, his English was quite good, and since our conversation took place mostly in English, I soon forgot about his nationality - which really is a silly notion in the first place.

He is handsome. Not by any glossy magazine standards, and certainly also not in comparison to The Fiancé's striking looks, but attractive enough, and certainly not a sexual turn-off either. And much unlike Mr. Creep, we did not run out of things to talk about. He has a similar outlook on life as we do, he likes travelling, he is sophisticated. He asked us questions, so The Fiancé didn't have to use up all his conversational skills to get this guy to talk. We laughed quite a bit too, he was dividing his attention equally between both of us. At one point in our conversation, to emphasize a point he was making, he reached across the table and touched The Fiancé's forearm for a second, which - for some reason - made my head spin a little bit for a few seconds afterwards.

We talked about all kinds of things, interesting things, and he was not sleazy at all. He turned out to be smart, witty, well-travelled, and funny. Only way into the evening the whole purpose of our date came up, and even so it happened in a very subtle and tasteful way. It was clear from the way he talked that he likes sex a lot, and that he has a healthy attitude towards it, but in no way did it seem like he was trying to show off, or come on to us like he was desperate for some action.

We parted ways 3 1/2 hours later, and I think it may have been even later, wouldn't I have had to get up early this morning. Bud hugged first me with the obligatory 2 cheek-kisses, and to my surprise The Fiancé as well, insisting on the cheek kisses also - which is not at all common between men around these parts... aside from the fact that I only know hugs between strangers from Latino males, and certainly not from Central European ones.

We have decided to give him our phone number, and he has since emailed us, saying that he enjoyed our company very much and wouldn't mind meeting us again. All in all a pleasant evening, and I think this has potential for at least a friendship.

Ok, so I guess we will never learn. But how can I resist getting back to a guy whose initial email included the grammatically correct sentence "I can imagine most responses you get to your profile are not very classy... if you haven't given up hope yet, I'd love to hear from you", who then elaborated on his bisexuality in a classy way, did not once suggest to get laid with me "while my man watches", has a cute Golden Retriever, loves to speak English, and to whose pictures and emails The Fiancé - against all of my expectations - said "very nice... who cares that he seems a bit older than us".

Yeah, yeah... I said we won't do the internet thing anymore... but seriously - where else can people like us find people like us, huh? Do you, in a bar or some other socially acceptable hook-up place, walk up to a man/woman/couple and ask them straight out if they were bisexual, and if they'd wanna be friends with benefits with you?

Yeah, thought so too.

So Thursday is the day. Having learned from Mr. Creep, I have refused a "voice check" beforehand, reasoning that forced phone calls are just embarrassing and unnatural, and will not leave the right impression anyway. I have not given (and will not give) my phone number, and just suggested a meeting place/time instead with a significant way to recognize each other. That'll have to do, and if - again - the guy turns out to be impossible, then so be it. There will be no phone calls, and follow-up emails can be marked as spam, simple as that. He does, however, live in some very nice 'burbs that in a way symbolize good standing and/or good family situations, so he can't be all bad on a superficial level. We'll see. Getting rather tired of looking for people to fit our needs, and who would have thought that it would be even harder for us to find appropriate girls than men??? All girls that contacted us so far were some crazy leather-wearing, whip-swinging bitches with 10-inch lacquer heels, that wanted to "dominate my man with me".

Uh-huh. Aren't there any normal sweet girls out there anymore...???

As expected, Saturday was very un-erotic and eventless. We gamed, I didn't have a lot of fun, and when everybody else left Steven and I just talked about his economic situation and he kept on whining and complaining, and after a while we just left. One joke-reference to that night was made, after which he just pissed me off by insisting that I just stuck around so long after the gamers had left cause I was hoping yet again for his incredible skills, so we just up and left after that.

My sex drive has gone down to nil yet again, just like it did when I was still on contraceptive hormones, and when I was surprised with pain and blood when there should have been neither considering the time of the month, I eventually went to my gyn last week. I was violated with an internal ultrasound and was faced with a blurry picture of what my gyn called "looks-like-a-harmless-cyst-but-pee-in-a-cup-anyway-so-I-can-rule-out-an-ecoptic-pregnancy". This potential ecoptic pregnancy measured 43 millimeters in diameter, and if you read up on ecoptic pregnancies, you'll know why I just about crapped my pants right then and there, and could barely hold the cup steady I was supposed to pee into for the pregnancy test.

I can take away all suspension right now, I am not growing a baby in my fallopian tube. The test came out negative, so the doc went with the alternative of a burst follicle that grew into a cyst and causes all kinds of irregular bleeding and hormonal imbalances. So much for my non-existent sex-drive. It should disintegrate all by its wee self, and I am due back for a checkup on that in 2 months - unless of course I experience intense pain and bleeding before that.

Yay. I am not sure about the average diameter of a regular ovary, but I am quite sure it measures at a lot less than 43 millimeters. The pain has gotten worse since, and when The Fiancé and I made love this morning afterall, I had a hard time not to scream out with each thrust for all the stabbing sensations in all the wrong ways.

Just what I need when looking forward to working at a baby in a little less than a year from now.

Weirdness ensues... I have just found myself sharing our threesome experience with Ex-Roomie#R over the internet. You see, I have always felt close to him, and we have discussed things pertaining to male-female-interrelations before. He recently emailed me with some private stuff, so I felt this sudden strong urge to share with him as well, and here we go. I am actually having fun, it's like letting the wickedy witch out of the bag and showing off to someone who "knows" me so well a side of me I am sure he never suspected existed. :)

And, coincidental as life sometimes is, I hit the send button on my email to him and an hour or so later my cell rings, and it's Steven. I haven't heard from him ever since that night but once when he asked me for a favor, so I found it a bit funny that he called me just the day I had an intense conversation about our experience with somebody.

Anyway... after asking me for some money that I don't have, Steven invited me to come over next Saturday for some D&D, and I agreed. Now, The Fiancé doesn't roleplay, much less in German, so I didn't think of taking him along, but Steven went on saying if I wanted to bring along "my chubby", I am invited to do so. Of course I started laughing and told him not to call him that, to which of course he replied with a smart-ass comment about their compared physiques... not only chubby-wise, but also otherwise, and how he was glad that they are similar in all aspects, otherwise it would have been frustrating for him. It was the first time I heard him make a reference to that night, and against all expectations and contrary to our conversation before that reference, I suddenly felt an excited jitter in the general area of my stomach. I grinned and said something to the effect of "well, wasn't it frustrating for you, anyway?" referring a bit to his mention of The Fiancé's stamina, to which he started laughing heartily about how quickly he fell asleep afterward, apologized for having been so tired, and said not to think any of it, that he had his fun.

We hung up shortly after that, and that jitter was still noticeable considerably. I was quite surprised at that, actually, in a pleasant way. Considering how I feel (or rather *DON'T* feel) about my friend, as you can read in my last entry, I was pleasantly surprised that my body obviously left itself an option for more despite of the bitchings of my mind. Thoughts of repetition srpung to my mind almost immediately, which made me giggle at the sillyness of it all. Here I am, answering Roomie#R's question on whether or not I think the three of us will land in bed again with a definite NO, and an hour or so later I am having giddy thoughts about Saturday.

Not that I am planning on any initiations, of course. Not that I am expecting anything to come from Steven's part, nor do I know how The Fiancé would feel about doing it again. I am just enjoying the tingle I feel at the thought of the mere possibility.

At any rate... I haven't RPed in over two years, and I can honestly say that I miss it. Steven has been the best DM I ever played with, and he is a ball to have in a party of players, and he was only matched by the DMing skills of The Ex in Los Angeles. Back then we had a fun and tight group, meeting regularly once a week... and since personal stuff came in and put an end to our campaign and I eventually met The Fiancé, I haven't played once. Steven is fun to play with, and I am actually looking forward to Saturday for just that, and if we really get into it, there is no room for thinking about The Naughty anyways.

After I have been plagued by a dream involving a woman kneeling with spread legs in a church entry, naked, her arms tied brutally behind her back, screaming, with her back arched wide to ease the pressure on her arms, and large amounts of blood running down her thighs and pooling on the stone floor between her legs - I have picked up a new hobby: sculpting.

What one has to do with the other can be seen when you open my fridge, for a PG version of my dream minus the church entry and the blood can be seen there, wrapped in plastic wrap to keep her fresh, awaiting her last finishing touches.

That's what I'm talking about when fantasizing about what "real inspiration" must be like, and I thank whatever muse has come to haunt my dreams that night, for I have found a new calling. And no kidding, for a first attempt I must say that I really am not bad at this at all. My own personal sculpting table is already in the works. *grins*

Not that you want to hear any more of my arty excursions, I am sure. Especially if you are new to this, and compare the content with the headline and quickly move on to the next porn site in your favorites to compensate for the disappointment. But let me tell you, since having shut down my "real" blog three months ago and not finding MySpace to be quite the right place for my personal thoughts even if just revealed to the people on my friends list, this here blog has to suffer sometimes. Take it or leave it, I am not blogging to please the masses, so fuck off.

It's all part of my path to myself, and therefore valid content. The fact that I sculpted a naked woman with wide spread legs and arched back, completely exposing her fleshy crotch and voluptuous breasts, and then dared to SHOW this to my family members, including my grandparents, says a lot about my progress. No, really.

The look on my mother's face when I went so far as to mention the blood I plan on splattering her thighs with was absolutely priceless, and my grandmother (without knowing about the pending blood bath) even said I should get more done and open my own renommated gallery.

Huh.

That said, sex is still on my mind, people, not just art, no worries. :P Not so much our threesome anymore though... for all our thinking about repeating it, I do feel grossed out the more I think about it. And that's not me contradicting myself on what I said about pseudo morals in one of my last entries - it's more a "half a decade ago I swore never to sleep with this person again, and now I've done it" kind of thing. Especially now that he's letting himself go so badly, that he's turning from the lazy slob he's always been into a complete and utter disgrace I hardly like to associate myself with anymore. It's not that I do not understand the hardships one has to go through in life. Some more, some less, him most definitely more than most others I know. It's not that I do not understand poverty. It's not that I wouldn't like to help. It's this complete having given up on himself that I cannot respect, it's his constant whining about how fucked up the world is to him, and his complete unwillingness to do anything about his situation. He complains about not having money for rent or food, yet he refuses to work and is content living off welfare. He expects his friends to help him financially, and gets pissy when they can't do or won't do it. He rejects all offers of different kinds of help, like when we invited him over for a good and large dinner one night knowing that he doesn't have anything to eat at home, and him refusing to come because, as he said to The Fiancé later, he was too lazy to get off his ass and come on over. It's the fact that the glasses and bottles we were drinking from that one night were still where we left them, when The Fiancé went over there to hang out with him last week.

The list goes on and on, and I don't think there are even enough words to properly describe my friend in all his facets, and why he pisses me off so much. I could, however, deal with him pissing me off. It has always been that way since day one of knowing him. What I cannot deal with is having to feel pity for a person. Pity is a bad thing to feel for a friend, pity makes one lose respect for another person. It was okay as long as he was poor and living off welfare and not having anything to eat, but TRYING to fix his situation. It is definitely NOT okay to be in such a situation and just spend your time waiting for someone to knock on your door and solve all your problems for you, while he just keeps on sitting on his lazy ass playing on his computer, whining and complaining about the unfairness of the world, and his mountain of debts which he will never be able to pay off in this lifetime anyway, and how good everybody else has it with their regular paychecks, and how good especially The Fiancé has it, because he doesn't work and I pay everything for him.

Only: he seems to forget that The Fiancé is desperately LOOKING for a job, and most definitely NOT happy to sit at home all day and wait for me to pay for all his living and extra expenses.

And the more I ponder on these things, the more disgusted I get at the thought of what happened, and the more I close myself to even the thought of repeating this with Steven one more time. Even when I close my eyes and put myself back in time to this one night, and saw him there hovering above me, moving on top of me, I remember the shock I felt at seeing him so close, seeing his naked body again: there was almost nothing left of the guy I slept with half a decade ago... he looked old and used up. His hair, from such a close perspective, has turned from the former raven black into more than just a dark shade of grey at his age of 32. His face looked ashen. And even though he is by no means skinny, it still seemed that his skin was a tad too large for him, giving him an overall sunken in look. All night I could not get myself to kiss him one time, and I was very glad when he asked me if kissing was too intimate of a thing to share, and I could say yes and have an "official" reason to stay away.

As you can see, the whole experience was very controversial to me. Even though I quite enjoyed it while it happened, I don't think I will allow it a second time. In many (if not most) aspects it was good to have done this thing with someone I know and trust, as I have mentioned before, but now I think it is time to move on to something else. If The Fiancé and I want to have such an experience again, we will seek out somebody else. Someone that we both can respect on all levels, and not have to feel pity for. Though, right now, The Fiancé is all I am dreaming of and want to be with. Especially now in direct comparison to Steven he seems to me so youthful, and powerful, and vigorous, and so juicily handsome. He is an explosion of lust and passion, and he can go on and on and on as if there were no physical limitations to his performance. And on that note, I doubt that Steven would even agree to a threesome anymore - he was more than obviously uncomfortable to be faced with a man like The Fiancé, heh. :)