‘Texts he can’t resist’ experiment…

I’m a huge fan of Mathew Hussey and his no nonsense approach to dating but will his ‘report’ on texts a man can’t resist work, or just make FFF think I’ve lost the plot?

Start time 3:15 pm today –

He reads the message… and then…
Nothing.
Oh fuck. Well that went well!
#datingfail

Update:
He had his son with him yesterday!
Shit…
I’m so embarrassed 😞
Why didn’t I realise that? Me with my frivolous hamburger 🍔 messages and then I had gone and sent a voice message asking for advice… idiot.
I want to curl up and die. But instead I will archive his message and pretend I don’t send anything.
Fuck. Why can’t I just leave things alone?

Remember this? Well it became this…

Message sent on the Friday gets response on Sunday, and it’s not all negative…

“I don’t want anything lasting… I’m jaded with relationships”

And then he goes quiet 🤫

Radio silence and I realise that yet again he has turns the situation round and suddenly I almost begging him to have sex with me. What the fuck?

I’m exhausted and this has bit my confidence hard. Why flirt with me and lead me on only to then turn around and back pedal? I can only assume he still sees me as a young girl, an under age friend of the family and he is scared of upsetting me and ruining the two families dynamic.

Old me would not have been happy with ‘ just sex’. Modern life saved/living on borrowed time Me just wants to be fucked by some one who makes her knees weak and her pants moist. After a lifetime of mediocre just for one she would like exceptional – a stallion instead of a donkey. And for a while it had looked so close…

Silence could mean any thing but more likely than not he’s started to soper up and is feeling awkward… only time can heal that. I’ve given it to him in writing I want him, now he has got to find the balls to step up…

‘I agree’ – two words I needed right now

It’s taken him a week, a whole week, for him to respond to me and although I punch the air with joy that I’m not forgotten it’s a small win in a game I’m dubious I’m playing right.

Admittedly, I was likely just a Christmas fumble and to be honest I don’t need that clarified. So for now, less contact is the safest thing and less is undoubtedly more in this quaint little dance we are in of new trying not to duck it up and you – god knows what you are doing.

Your message is short and innocuous and at once I feel myself on a pinnacle of a decision. I can play this as me, or I can start to prioritize my life and my goals over whatever I cannot confirm as real.

In the days since I decided not to think of you I’ve been so incredibly productive and achieved so much I’ve suprised myself. Words that for years I found too painful to write have flowed out of me onto pages that have lapped up the truth of something I still maybe only on the beginning of understanding

I’ve realized that to be worthy of you – if anyone I need to find my way first and foremost. I need to secure my safety, my security and my sanity by writing out the story of my life. Once I would have been doing it to set the record straight. Another time it would have been for money. Now I just want there to be truth told of how it is to live with a clocking ticking in your ear. An egg timer with the sand falling, always gather than you can live this thing called life.

So I read your message and then seek advice – and now that my head is growing clearer I’m becoming better at giving it to myself too.

And with just one word I feel reassured. An arm from so many miles away slides around my shoulders and although it might not be the right answer I’ve given it feels right for right now.

‘I will wait’ for you…

Choose a song. Or, far better. Let the song choose you.

When you are least expecting it, let the tune catch you off guard. Let the words dance into your comprehension and understanding. Realise quite suddenly, it’s about you and your life. It’s about you and him.

You can’t tell if your story will be like the movies you’ve grown up with and have the happy ending you’ve dreamed of. But you’re going to try to believe it’s possible. Because if you don’t there isn’t a chance.

This is where you play this song to have in the background of reading this. (Note – repeat is a good idea…)

I Will Wait 

Mumford & Sons

So what happened? Well!

FFF realised he was thinking about me constantly. He decided to up his game. There were more messages, more inquiries into my life and how I was. He really made a huge effort to get to know me. There were more frequent visits to his mother down here in the Westcountry so we could accidentally bump into each other at family occasions. We would occasionally catch the other’s eyes, and I would look at him, and say with my eyes, “I want you, I want you inside me…”

Eventually, he even started to suggest art events in town to me. And one day I succumbed to his charm and agreed to meet him for an exhibition at the National Photographers Gallery exhibition and tapas in town. As I walked from the tube station I saw him standing outside the entrance from behind and traced every line of his body with my eyes, imagining running my hands over him and everywhere. I had worn a navy blue slip of a dress with tiny one polka dots on it, and the sort of shoes which were comfortable and yet still cute. Under my dress were my red crotchless lace knickers, no bras so a little ‘nippleage’ in the coolness of the closing day air. We circulated the room and I loved the fact that sometimes I caught him looking at me. But I was still not quite sure, so I spent the day wondering, then as we walked towards the tapas restaurant he slid his large, solid warm hand into mine, and suddenly I was ‘his’. Just for the here and now. I didn’t ask for anything. I don’t want anything other than him, just for a moment, just for the now…

At the tapas restaurant, we were in a dark corner and facing each other straight on. I tried not to say anything stupid and then realised I didn’t have to worry. When I am with him, I am unapologetically me. And I get the impression he really likes my honesty.

We settled the bill and as we started to walk back up the street, he grabbed my hand and dragged me into an alleyway, twisting me around and back up against the wall. Pinning my arms he kisses me, and it’s the sort of kiss you lose yourself in. Where tongues intertwined and sometimes you pull out and tug on the lip, or maybe just brush his, then back in with a ferociousness that makes me feels as though I am being devoured. His hand goes down and he finds the opening in my knickers, draws back, smiles, and whispers, “Who is being naughty now?”

By the time Christmas comes, we are wet with excitement. He texts me every day at least once. Sometimes several times. I even get an occasional phone call. Two days after his son goes home he comes around to play pool and for dinner. On the way to the pub, I take his hand and take him up to the field with the benches. It’s pitch dark, but across the water, you can see the lights of _____ sparkling. There is a bench at the back, out of the way, and I push him down so he is sitting in front of me, then I clamber on. My legs bent back, knees grazing wood but I don’t care. I’m grinding into him, waiting for him to rise up, which he soon does. At that point I move back, unzip and let the snake rise up. Taking my hand I wet it with my tongue then slide it down from the top to the bottom and then up again. With my other hand, I get out a condom and pass it to him. He slides it on, and I move back to where I was before and hover. I graze the head of his penis against my entrance, letting the sparks of electricity zap between us. Back and forth, then a little in, but not much, then back and then…

He grabs me and pulls me down so I am full and penetrated deep. The slight curve that makes him, has slid past my sweet spot and I am a mess. Head rushing with blood this way and that. I start to rock and grind, rock and grind, rock and grind as he tries to kiss my neck. Deep, deep, and stroking…

We decide to be monogamous, and he invites me up to London where he has a new flat. We do things like couples do. The cinema, galleries, meals out, adventures at the weekend. I support him, and he is my biggest fan. We are best friends like we were always meant to be. He teaches me to ride my bike much better. Together our cooking improves and we plan trips abroad. One day, we make another big decision…

 

FFF and me…. How I want and hope it will be. How I hope and pray it might be…

Or…

Someone else. I will have this life. I am loveable. I will have someone who loves me like I deserve to be loved. I’m not broken, I’ve just taken a long time to be ready for someone to love me, and me to love them. I hope it’s you. But if it’s not you, it’s not. That’s ok too.

Unless or until someone better comes along (not that I believe there is one)  and sweeps me off my feet, I will, I will wait for you to realise it’s me you want. xoxo

“That was my intention..”

Monday 6thof January 3:18pm

 

Disappointment floods her body and she might almost feel like crying except that would just be hormones and silliness and this is all ridiculousness for a man she barely knows.

His response:

“Bit of a stacked day tomorrow now. No reply on the earlier offer, so have lights and taps and cooker filters and plumbers arriving tomorrow. Boring.”

“Well as much as I was incredibly tempted by your offer, being alone in a house with you seemed dangerous. 😉Shame about the 🏖walk – I was thinking Portowan, windswept with breaking  🌊and then pool and a 🍺in the Blue Bar. Maybe cinema in the evening.. Oh well – maybe another time.

Up country on Wednesday so last night was farewell for a while I suppose. 🙃”

She tries to be light hearted, but her heart is heavy. Her unfiltered response would have been –

“’Ah shame, I was looking forward to you fucking my brains out – but didn’t know if that was a possibility – until last night…”

Such is the mindset of a woman so in love. And yet, although it’s taken a year to get to this point she knows in her heart she must trust in the journey and not rush what unfolds. To have loved someone her whole life and only now to have him fancy her is a long game to say the least. But isn’t a long game often a worthy one?

Advice from Kate is confusing but hits home, and she knows that although old Daisy would have causally fallen into bed, or more precisely bent over a table for him, that is not the new her at all. She must learn to love herself, have confidence in herself, be brave in herself and grow some self-respect.

She has pretty much given up now on having any confirmation of his feelings towards her, as clearly DIY is his priority, when out of nowhere…

[4:37 PM, 1/6/2020] Fit Family Friend: That is exactly what I intended, it to be dangerous and have more time exploring things that make you quiver…

And there it is. The reassurance she needs that he fancies the pants off her and wanted to give her pleasure. She shouldn’t need it, but she does and now for a while, she is sated.

 

Too fast, too soon 😢

You’ve never met. It’s all just beginning. And you have that flutter in your stomach that signifies the possibility of possibility! And then…

Really?

Why not ask for my PIN number? My national insurance number? Something else really personal. But not this, not yet.

What happened to getting to know someone? What happened to suspense? What happened to relationships being like unwrapping presents slowly?

I want to give someone my heart. I want to give someone my body, but to have my inner most, most naughty thoughts and actions divulged before we’ve even sat opposite each other is just wrong in my eyes.

I used to give it all up too soon. Kisses, hand jobs, blow jobs and more. I was flippant with my time and my emotions. Now I care. Now I am precious with my time and my feelings.

Disappointment may be more frequent, but maybe I will need less plasters for my soul.

Another one bites the dust, but at least I didn’t invest to highly in any way in him at all.