Leaving A Darker Realm Behind

I have been thinking more about Lucky Bastard.

He was here the other day....and confessed to more "adventures." He also insisted on wanting another woman and on bringing the Professor over.

I had to think about this...again. My gut was telling me that it wasn't right. That something was all wrong with all of this. Couldn't put my finger on why though...

So, I went and had a card reading. I do this quarterly. There's a good reader close by, who's been reading for me for over a year now. Not a Roma, like many of the ones in New Jersey who list themselves a "reader and advisor."

Her advice--get away from him. As far as I can. He's a disaster waiting to happen. If I try to swim with him in the pools he want me to delve into, it'll be a disaster. I'm a dolphin being invited into a pool of sharks. Say no. Time to go.

I thought about this some more, and she's right. While I know the games of the Sex World, I don't play them very well. I'm not like many of the women who are successful in the Sex World--non-orgasmic, angry women who feign sexual pleasure. They are such good performers that men actually think they are orgasmic. They are also more often willing to do things for a man that will not necessarily require having intercourse with him, and will make him feel like he's the center of the world. They gather information on a man and will not hesitate to use it against him when necessary.

I can't do that. I know how to orgasm. I know how to enjoy sex and don't want to necessarily play-act it to make someone feel good about himself. I also don't like being put in situations where I'm play-acting that I'm attaining sexual satisfaction by being an observer of someone else's pleasure.

More importantly, I won't use the information I know about someone against him in an effort to further my standing.

Furthermore, Lucky Bastard has done nothing that should make me even want to do anything more than what I've already done. And I've done more than anyone else ever has. He refuses to extend small tokens of appreciation to me, to treat me with a certain respect that he should, to do anything other than provide a few orgasms.

That's really not enough for me to want to fuck his little buddy, who probably doesn't like women anyway. And it certainly isn't enough for me to go out and find another couple so that he can screw another woman in my presence.

No matter the cammeraderie, there's no respect.

So, my reading only confirmed what was in my gut anyway.

Now that my gut is confirmed, I think I have the strength to tell him goodbye for real. It's not a matter of doing the straight-girl thing, of giving up on an adventure, or on another hot thrill. It's not a matter of throwing away an opportunity to get ahead and make new, fascinating connections. It's a matter of the fact that, deep down, he doesn't respect my knowledge of sex and the Sex World, doesn't truly respect his body and is more than not exposing himself to things that could do him (and others) alot of harm....and, if he doesn't respect himself, he doesn't really respect me either.

Time to go. Bye-bye. Give the Queenly wave. Exit gracefully.

Even though he does not deserve it, I will give him the respect of telling him it's over face to face. It only seems right to end it in the manner in which we met.

Perhaps, though, this is not a gesture for him, but one for me. I've always been one to end things indirectly. Ending this one face to face might be a lesson in growing up.

Who knows for sure. I'll only know when it's done.