Stop Over Thinking, It’s Just Great Sex

An overwhelming instinct to protect myself from certain situations that can be detrimental to my well-being has suddenly kicked into overdrive.

This is really just a fancy way of saying whenever I’m feeling like the situation with a man is a little confusing or uncomfortable for me, the anchor comes up and this old ship gets to sailing.

It’s funny (well, not really) how just a few days ago I was skipping through the field of daisies, still on a high after the latest tryst with my long-term cut buddy Papi which I’ll say again, was one of the best sessions. I could just brush it off as having been one of those moments where the hormones of a 40 year old woman had gone crazy,  but I wouldn’t be a woman if I left it at that.

Just as many of us will do, I’ve been trying to analyze every moment to get some answers and wanted to slap myself once I realized how much time my brain had been spinning trying to do just that.

What was so different about this time? Why was the energy so different?

Could it be something as simple as me using a different scarf to blind-fold him or was I more turned on by being the one in control while instructing him through each moment during sex, doling out punishment if he disobeyed?

I found it mildly disturbing that I was even thinking about the why because that is totally out of character for me and then it hit me – maybe I was beginning to catch feelings.

If anyone has ever been in this situation before whether you were the catcher or the catchee, you already know that once a person tries to step outside of what’s already been established (sex partners and nothing more), it’s a lose-lose outcome.

This man has been a part of my life since I was 23 years-old and I’m now a few months away from being forty-one and if there weren’t any types of feelings there, I would be questioning whether or not my emotions were made of concrete and yesterday I kind of sort of let him know with a quick text message.

Dialogue is not what I was looking.

My sending that text was nothing more than a getting-this-off-my-chest-please-don’t-reply-and-if-you-do-I-won’t-read-it chicken shit kind of message and afterwards, I felt a hell of a lot better by simply telling him that perhaps the lack of any other “male distraction” was causing me to feel a little caught up.

That’s all I said and again, made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a reply of any kind, taking any and all credit for these feelings being all of my own.  Well, his ass replied and not only was I surprised, confusion by something he said using the phrase “mutually exclusive” totally messed me up.

Now I regret having said anything at all because our situation is what it is and I just need to regroup and keep it pushing.

This is happening because of failed dating and I blame the other men for this. If there were some decent prospects to consider, all of my focus this year would NOT have been on one person and everything would be okay and I could get back to sharing the sexual experiences with Papi and nothing else.  Bastards!!!

Don’t try to make sense of that last part; it only makes sense in my twisted little mind to find a reason for me having allowed overactive pheromones to have temporarily blinded me. For the first half of this year, I’ve not really been focused on dating of any kind – in person or online but now I think it’s time for a few distractions so I can close Pandora’s box just as quickly as I opened it.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones