Out of boredom and a strange stain of sadness that permeates my current mood, I agreed to have dinner next week with the 50 year old whom I'd pushed away last month. He continues to pursue me, lavishing upon me sweet compliments, and I relented (or did I cave?). I don't know if it's that I need attention, as I turned down quite a few social invites, but his claim that he knows me, that he understands me resonated deeply. I jokingly said to him, "You are only kind to me because you want to fuck me" and his response was, "I've never hid from you the fact that I want to sleep with you but I also think you are capable of amazing things because you are very talented and I have so much faith in you."
How could you not be touched by that? (Perhaps I am a sucker.)
There is also the young man, the 24 year old, and we have been getting better acquainted via text messages and emails. He has expressed a great interest in dominating me, despite his lack of experience, and I have agreed to take him on as my Daddy, forgiving the age difference. That the 50 year old has a son who is his age amuses me, but I have always derived great pleasure from the uncomfortable and awkward.
Neither of them are aware of this blog, and I don't think I will ever give them the URL for fear of influencing them. When in college, where I was a cultural studies major, I theorized that ethnographers cannot actually unbiasedly write about their subjects if their presence is known. English philosopher and social theorist Jeremy Bentham designed a prison building in the mid 1700's called a panopticon, a creating an environment that did not allow the incarcerated to know if they were ever being observed, thusly influencing them to always behave for fear of the observer's omniscience. This blog is, somehow, my own personal prison, and the men I meet are the jailed. I would rather they not know they are being watched and have them behave naturally.
On a related note, there are plenty of men who contact me through this blog, interested in meeting me. I am very flattered but again, the reluctance is two-fold: firstly, I do not want to be viewed merely as a potential fuck toy simply because someone has read this blog and determined incorrectly that I will sink to my knees for just anyone and secondly, I don't want to meet someone through this medium and then have him expect or demand an entry.
However, when meeting men online in forums unrelated to this, where I have posited myself as someone without any darker interests and playing up my other appealing facets, I have directed a few of them to this blog, simply to allow them an alternate presentation of me, perhaps a more complete one. I would rather someone be initially attracted to me because of my intelligence and then learn I am a pervert, though I suppose the reverse process would not be too horrible. Yet it is not a risk I am willing to take at this time. I am terrified of revealing too much of myself to anyone in any sense.
And in that admission is the irony, that I am willing to be completely physically vulnerable at the hands of a man who could hurt me, but I won't allow him to see the recesses of my mind or the emotions I have kept tightly bundled. Friends have accused me on occasion of being distant, or even detached, something that upsets me greatly since I have always been empathetic to their experiences and needs. While I consider myself perceptive to others' emotions, I have put up countless reflective two way mirrors that will not let anyone see into me.
Is it possible that I am using my body and its perceived weakness as a strength?
