August 6, 2022 Journal Entry
I took up with Married Man in December 2016. Married Man woke up my body. Married men don’t have much time for their mistresses. I had no outlet. I whined a lot. Begged. Pleaded. It was tiring for me, I’m sure far more tiring for him. Although there is a great deal of ego benefit to being worshipped like that. But it is, in the end, simply tiring.
He did like me; he did want me to be happy — at least happier. And he most certainly didn’t want me to depend on him, not for anything. He had this idea I might date, hookup, and share the details. I’d never had that kind of relationship before. I was a apprehensive, I didn’t think I could do it. But then, I didn’t think I could be a mistress, either. Plus, I was tired of trying to be “good” so maybe God would send me a husband. Ironically, at the urging of someone else’s husband, I embarked on my “Sexual Reawakening”.
I created some dating site profiles and started matching with, what the fuck! Very young men! Some of them were even lying about their age to match with older women. In addition, they had a preference for large women. I was the “Mature BBW” they were looking for. I was shocked, scared, intimidated, didn’t think I could do it, tried to talk myself out of doing it…. Finally, I up and did it. After that, I was good to go. I was the perfect combo — old, fat, and a lot of fun. Most importantly, I was open.
Surprisingly, many of those hookups turned into friendships. I would say more than half of the men with whom I’ve had hookups still check in from time to time. Most I never met again in real life after only one, or perhaps a handful of times. Yet many of those fleeting connections have built out into enduring, satisfying, online friendships.
I’m thinking in particular about D., whom, at the tender age of 26, I met at the Backdoor in Louisville. I was celebrating my 56th birthday with friends. I replay that memory some nights, lying in bed. It’s so fulfilling, to put myself back there.
The party was pretty hopping at the start, but by midnight, most of my friends had trickled out. I stayed. Of course I stayed!
A young man kept catching my eye and grinning at me from across the bar. The previous two years had taught me to recognize when someone I would never expect to be attracted to me, was indeed attracted to me.
He was with a friend. I was drunk, so these memories are pretty fuzzy, but he kept flashing me his impish grin. I turned my whole body towards him and held him in a constant gaze. It’s a languid express I take on, with a relaxed smile, and soft eyes. The sexual stare down. I know how to make a man feel incredibly desirable from across a room. I’ve enraptured men who didn’t even know they could be attracted to someone like me. I’ve always had that gift. Goddamn, I like that about me.
I walked over to his table and said something overtly sexual, although I don’t recall what exactly, but the way he looked up at me, still with the impish grin, without a hint of shock or dismay, I knew I’d hooked him. So, I kept doing it.
Every time I approached the table, his friend would shake his head in disgust and turn away. That made it even more fun and was just the push I needed to keep on doing it. Oddly, when I’m able to elicit disgust from a man, particularly one so young, I’m extremely proud of myself. Just this moment, I’m wondering why that is. I’ll have to ponder on that a bit.
By closing time, I was sitting next to D. His friend was long gone; he’d darted out as soon as I slid into the booth. When the bouncers started ushering people out, I took D.’s hand and lovingly led him outside. He willingly complied, like a puppy on a leash. I would say a lamb to slaughter, but I’m extremely kind and generous to the youngsters. They’re the stuff sexual confidence is built on. I put him in an Uber and took him home.
He started throwing up as soon as we got to my apartment. I spent a bit of time following him around with a plastic waste bucket. He splashed my very expensive antique lace shower curtain, badly. I had to wash it, and it shrunk. I can only pull it three quarters shut now. Every time I see it, I remember, and I smile, and I’m flooded with warmth. That shower curtain has become one of my most beloved possessions. D. doesn’t remember the throwing up part, thankfully. He just remembers me, and the goodness and kindness and fun of me, and how special I made him feel, still make him feel. It’s mutual.
There was a little fooling around before he passed out. When he woke up, there was a bit more fooling around. Then he dressed and left, way too soon. I mean, just at the right time, but way too soon. If you’ve ever had a sweet, lovely, memorable hookup, you know what I mean about the timing thing.
He texted me almost at once to thank me and tell me he couldn’t see me again. He’d just met someone, and it seemed promising. I wished him all the best and thanked him for what I was certain would become one of my life’s most memorable nights. And it absolutely has.
More than three years later, he still checks in now and then. He texted last night, which is why he’s on my mind today, and why I’ve been smiling since I woke. I was surprised to hear from him, since I hadn’t in many months. It’s good to know he’s doing well, and that he remembers me as fondly as I remember him.
That’s been typical of my experiences. I’ll make a connection based purely on chemical attraction — although I don’t think it’s ever purely chemical. I think people are attracted to people that seem kind, fun, and confident. And that is how I present, to those who don’t know me well enough to know that’s not the whole of it. Alas.
We’ll hookup. After sex, we might chat a bit, then we part. I know I’ll never see them again, and that’s so OK with the young ones. I’ll text to thank them. They’ll respond in like. Sure enough, a few months later I’ll hear from them. They’ll text just to say “hi”. Some sexting might ensue, but mostly, those check-ins are filled with expressing gratitude for one another, for that very brief, fun, memorable time we spent in one another’s lives.
Maybe my experience is unique, but that’s been the norm for me, not the exception. And that’s actually regardless of age. I suppose the young ones just make me giggle more when I think of them.
It's been over with Married Man for more than four years. But his gift of friendship, encouragement, and I would even go so far as to say wise counsel, proved invaluable. He, more than any other, taught me to STAY OPEN.
I began seeing serendipitous opportunities when they presented. Then, instead of choosing fear, I leaned in and went there. My world grew big. I’ve had so much fun. There’s been so much goodness. I’ve had such an incredible run.
Now, I create serendipitous opportunities for others. Goddamn, I like that about me.