Waiting and waiting and waiting.

Date #4 is upon me and it’s pot roast night.  

I’ve spent the morning cleaning and deciding on my final recipe.  Mildly agitated, slightly excited.  I am so very, very out of my element.

It’s been more than 15 years since I’ve had 4 dates and no sex.  I’ve seen his beautiful body only on a screen as he has mine.  

I haven’t touched or tasted; I haven’t felt or followed my fingertips to any delicious nooks and crannies.  I feel blindfolded in an art museum.

I don’t know what is expected of me once dinner is done because I’m certain sex is not on the menu for tonight.  “I don’t do casual sex,” he told me on date #2.  

I’m not even sure I know what that means.

So I wait and follow and see what’s next.  He’s the lead on this.  Not me.  

I hope my pot roast is edible.

Febraury Photofest

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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23 thoughts on “Waiting and waiting and waiting.
  1. How exciting! And I think it’s great that he’s waiting. I have a feeling that he may just sweep you off your feet! Here’s hoping. <3
    And pot roast isn't too complicated. I'm sure he'll appreciate it very much.
    You know the ancient saying.. The way to a man's heart….
    Have a great date! Can't wait to hear all about it.

  2. Dear Hy,

    As a photographer, among other things, I will tell you that the B&W photo is a good one. I would have gone over the contact sheet, looked at the neg with a glass and printed it. Digital lacks romance. It is many good things, but it is not film.

    Pot roast is one of my favorites. I always have trouble with the side dishes, but not the next day’s sandwiches.

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