Dirty in Deutschland

So, dear readers, after three years of de facto monogamy, I can now proudly say I am an international slut of mystery.  “Sexy German” now gets a notch on my metaphorical bedpost.  (Reminder: look into bed frames that will actually work with bondage gear.)

It all started because during sex month and after, The Boy and I started communicating a lot more frequently and with a lot more honesty about our kinks and desires. It turns out that he’s been nursing a fairly strong “hotwife” fetish for a long time now.  (Not to be confused with cuckhold, which involves an element of humiliation)  This gave me the prompting I needed to re-activate my OKCupid profile and begin the hunt for at least some casual sex, although I am hoping to eventually find a friend-with-benefits because I really hate online dating.  

Within a week or two, “Fritz” messaged me.  Because the picture I use on OKC is older and not particularly representative of how I look now for privacy reasons, I suggested immediately that we exchange recent pics to make sure there was mutual attraction.  There’s absolutely no point wasting time messaging back and forth if the guy isn’t attracted to my fat ass, right?  I discovered this with one of the first guys who messaged me, a Swiss who I had long conversations with non-monogamy about, but once I sent my pictures to him, heard nothing in return.  Ouch.  But he looked like Julian Assange and I’m not that into albinos anyway.

Fritz responded that he thought I was beautiful and sexy, and the pictures he sent in return were very promising.  So we arranged first time, public meetup, with no sex on the table.  That’s my standard procedure from the past and it’s always served me well.  Unfortunately the only night he was free, I was also a bit overbooked - I had an early date with a couple of friends for drinks, and then a later meetup with a different group of friends planned as well.  That ended up working out good - the drinks with friends loosened me up and helped with the crazy pit of anxiety before meeting him, and having plans later gave me a graceful “exit”.

Good news: he looked just like he did in the pictures.  5’11, solid build, square jaw and piercing blue eyes.  He was bald, but has one of those heads that looks great without hair.  He’s 36, a bit of a sex fiend, currently single, somewhat familiar with open relationships.  He was a little concerned that I had a military man waiting at home with a shotgun, but I was able to reassure him that The Boy was just as eager as I was to have me get some.  His English was great, and he had an affable, easy-going manner and comes across as quite intelligent.  We talked at length about fantasies and boundaries, but also had fun small talk about the U.S. and Germany, cultural differences, and all of that.

He has a very busy schedule, but we were able to schedule a date at my place for the next week.  I was fine with that until a few hours beforehand, when I started to get incredibly nervous again and was deeply regretting the whole thing.  (I always go through this before any encounter!)  But bourbon helped.  When he arrived, I confessed my anxiety and he said he was nervous too, but within 20 minutes of chatting, he asked me if I could turn around so he could get a better look at my ass.  Somehow I always attract the ass men!  

I don’t want to kiss and tell, but let’s just say that he absolutely loves my body type and made me feel incredibly hot.  A lot of fun, sweaty sex happened for several hours. I was pretty impressed by his ability to just … keep...going.  He’s definitely a high libido kind of guy.  My nerves melted away thanks to his clearly stated desire for me, and I had a great time.  It was even better when The Boy came home after Fritz had left and the sex fiesta continued.

Fritz messaged me very soon after leaving telling me what a great time he had.  My only regret is he didn’t talk dirty to me in Deutsch.  We have plans to meet again later in the month, but this time The Boy is going to be involved too.  Not only do I attract ass men, but bi-curious ass men.  What is it about me?  Whatever, I’m not complaining!  I have yet to have an MMF threesome where I have chemistry and attraction to both the guys, so I’d written them off.  Thanks to Fritz, the idea is much more appealing.

In the end, it’s been a huge confidence boost for me, and while I’m not sure if Fritz will fill the role as the serious FWB I’m hoping to find due to his really busy schedule, I definitely think he’ll be a good match for me and us when the stars and our schedules all align.

Next goal: pick someone up in person.  It’s been ages since I’ve done that, but I’ve got a couple of wingladies and we’re gonna make this happen!

Frustrated

I've been meaning to update this blog all week about a host of topics.  Annoying asexual activism!  Lady Gaga's super-hot drag king alter-ego!  The blog wankstorm around the rape in George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones! The very last days of "Don't Ask Don't Tell"!

But instead all I can do is masturbate furiously and then pity myself for the sad state of affairs for this overseas slut.

See, the Boy and I are now living in Europe, in a non-English speaking country.  So not only did we move away from the one or two semi-sort-of-reliable sex partners we had, but we're now in a situation where it's much harder to find new ones.  I mean, it's true that most people here do speak some English, but negotiating communication with potential sex partners is difficult enough when you both speak the same language.  And I haven't learned to say "fuckbuddy" in German yet.

But wait!  I am getting some semblance of a social life here, with other English-speaking expats.  Many of them single and fine and flirty.  Problem is, the expat community here is very incestuous and unsurprisingly tied to the equally incestuous community of Americans the Boy works with.  As I've mentioned before, we're not "out" about being open or queer, due to complications with the Boy's job.  It might be fine, but there's a lot of arbitrary decision-making when it comes to who the U.S. Government chooses to employ and we don't feel comfortable taking that risk.

So what happens is this: I go to an event.  Get chatted up by cute boys.  They ask why I'm here.  I have to say, "Well my husband got a job..." and right away, it's done.  Sure they'll keep chatting with me a few more minutes to be polite, but most of these guys are obviously out and about to get laid.  They hear the "H" word and they assume I'm not.  Stupid assumptions! But that's awfully hard to communicate without letting the entire ex-pat community know about our, uh, arrangement.   

Back in the Bay Area, there's a million websites and events and groups for people like us.  Hell, we'd only begun to scratch the surface of the various kinky and non-monogamous scenes while we were there.  And while I'm sure there is something similar here for the natives, I have no idea how to access those places, or if I did, if being a foreigner who can't speak the language would be realistic.

Woe is me!

So.  Frustrated.  It doesn't help that my libido is just in complete overdrive this week, which is bizarre, because it was dead last week when I was ovulating.  MAKE SENSE, BODY.  And of course the Boy is working nights, leaving me lonely and bored and quickly wearing out the motor on my one voltage converter to run my 110v Wahl Coil vibe, which quickly overheats and shuts down and then I realize I forgot to charge the Lelo and Jesus fucking Christ, I know this is the embodiment of first world problems but I feel a little sorry for myself.  

I was hoping to get some at least some Internet-based action when an e-friend back in the states confessed his crush, but I don't think he's really interested in that.  And all I want is some action.

The good news is the Boy is off for the next four nights.  The bad news is he's caught a cold and feels wretched, and family comes to visit in a few days for a month.  Cry for me, Internet.