This next post has been a long time coming, since I’ve been too chicken shit to take the time to sit down and break it down detail by detail. That’s the thing about writing these posts – it gives me no choice but to spend a fair amount of time thinking about each lover, and to put all the puzzle pieces together so that I’m able to articulate what took place between them and I. As you can imagine, it’s not all orgasms and rainbows.
There have been a few people along the journey who have reached inside of me in a way both excites and terrifies me, and this time that’s not a reference to the size of anybody’s cock. This is a story about a man who I met earlier this year, when he discovered my blog through an ad that I posted in Vancouver. He is probably one of the most unique men that I have ever connected with, and to this day I think about him often. I met him at a time in my life when I craved closeness with one partner, but struggled with the idea of settling down, since things in my life were pretty hectic at that time. It’s crazy how much things can change in 9 or 10 months, because basically everything in my life is different today than it was at the beginning of this year – 2017 was finally my year in so many ways.
In any case, here is the tale of a man who captured a side of me that most people don’t. This story brings back the phrase that you hear from me all too often: timing is everything.
The Vagina Chronicles Volume 52: The Medicine Man
The first time that he emailed me, I knew that he was different from 99.9% of men who come across my blog. He told me about how much he enjoyed my writing, and referenced to a few of the expressions that I shared that he felt he could relate to. He never referenced anything sexual or expressed any of his own sexual wants or desires. Instead, he had questions about me that had nothing to do with my sexual self. I can’t begin to explain how refreshing that was for me, considering the majority of the emails that I get from men who read my blog includes a lot of sex talk. At least that’s what it feels like to me, when they tell me all about how they absolutely love to pleasure their woman, and won’t stop until they know that she’s satisfied. Some men go into deep, long explanations of what they like to do to women, which always includes making her orgasm thousands or millions of times, it’s really hard to keep track when she came so many times! In my experience, humble souls make the best lovers, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.
On a daily basis, I was receiving long, well thought out emails from this Guy – telling me about his day and what he did/saw/thought throughout it. He reflected on times in his day where he would wonder things about me – and always had a collection of questions he wanted to ask me. I found myself checking my email much more often, hoping to see an unread message from him, and that was when I knew I was starting to venture into dangerous territory. At the same time, he lived in Vancouver, so it wasn’t like he was easily accessible to me, therefore getting to know him felt safe. It was also around this time that I decided to take a Vow of Celibacy for three months, because I was starting to feel pretty fucked out.
What does being “fucked out” mean? To me, it’s the state of mind that I reach after having one lover after another, with no real emotional connection to any of them. It is literally just about fucking, and nothing else. Which can be satisfying for a time, but eventually I reach a state of total indifference towards the whole routine, which in turn makes me realize how empty it all is. It usually comes to this kind of scenario: I receive a text from hot dude who is amazing in bed, checking in to see if I want to get down and dirty and my reaction is “meh.” And then I realize that I have a problem.
By taking a Vow of Celibacy, I was hoping to take a step back from my rinse and repeat cycle, and evaluate what it was that I really wanted in my life. This was the mindset that I was in at the exact time that I met The Medicine Man. You’re probably wondering what his name is all about, but I’m not going to share any further details in this case. He doesn’t do anything illegal, don’t get me wrong. This is just one of “those things” that he and I would both understand.
I’ll never forget the first time he called me, because I was almost afraid to pick up the phone and hear the sound of his voice. We had been emailing each other so much so often that it felt like there was a version of him that I had conceptualized and wanted to keep, afraid that taking it a step further would ruin it. But those worries were swept away when I heard the excitement in his voice to talk to me, and even more so the excitement in my own voice to talk to him. We talked for at least two hours that first night, and I learned that like me, he has an extremely inquisitive mind. He told me about the things that he had learned about me that I hadn’t ever written – but he had been able to read behind the lines, which created a flurry of frightening excitement in the pit of my stomach.
The Medicine Man was the kind of guy who expressed himself very freely and openly. We would “hang out” over video chat, sometimes for hours, where we would have deep discussions… which mostly included him talking. This is one of those things that I just can’t help – I’ve spent so much of my life in Sales, it comes naturally for me to aim to speak 30% of the time, and have the other person do 70% of the talking. The problem is, I am literally the perfect audience for people who just want to be heard. I am pretty sure I could win the gold medal in Best Listener should that ever become a category in some kind of contest. My closest friends know this about me – and I am the number one person that people go to when they just need to emotionally combust in a safe, non judgemental space. This is a double edged sword, because it’s a side of myself that I can’t exactly “turn off” when I want to. I give 100% of my present self to whomever I happen to be spending time with, and as result I spend a lot of time “deep conversation trapped”, in which the other person will not cease to talk so that I can live my life.
I know that sounds kind of rude, but don’t forget the facts: I’m a single Mom with a very young child, a full time job, and not a ton of support. Time is of the essence when you need to literally do every single household job that there is to do, as well as raise a child that feels loved and supported. At the end of the day, I have literally been “on” from the moment I opened my eyes until approximately 8pm, when my kiddo goes to bed, and usually the last thing I want to do is sit down and listen to another person talk. My evenings are most happily spent when I can kick back and relax – enjoy a much “lighter” atmosphere. It doesn’t even mean that I don’t like spending time on the phone – I talk to my friends on the phone all the time and we usually die with laughter and have fun conversations.
The intensity of Medicine Man had me feeling slightly suffocated, which isn’t unusual for me, because I’m a bit of a free spirit (in case you haven’t noticed). Instead of communicating these feelings like a healthy mature adult, I suppressed what I was feeling, chalking it up to the typical panic attack that I have when I meet someone that I’m really into. But when he started talking about how he wanted to really be a part of my life and my daughter’s life, I completely lost it and had to quickly end the phone call just to catch my breath. I told myself that this was way too much too soon, and I couldn’t handle how quickly he was taking things, which is exactly what I told him when he called me back shortly after. He agreed that he had misstepped, and that he had just gotten excited about things but realized that there was a lot of ground to cover before we would ever get there.
Now, up until that point, things hadn’t taken any sort of sexual turn between myself and Medicine Man, and you can only imagine how curious I was feeling to get to know that side of him. However, he was being so respectful of my choice to abstain from sex that he hadn’t approached the subject or tried to push anything on me in any kind of way. One day I flat out told him that I wanted to talk about it, but I was also afraid to take the relationship to that place, and wondered if we could talk about it in a very “facts oriented” fashion. We agreed that if the conversation got us riled up, that we would need to end it immediately. And so we proceeded to ask and answer each other’s questions about each other’s sexuality, keeping things very fact oriented (“measurements please?”), with the hope that by the end of it neither one of us would turn into a horny animal with a one track mind. But you all know damn well that I masturbated like crazy when I went to bed that night.
It wasn’t too long after when the sexual frustration balloon burst, and a frenzy of hormones was released – in the form of naughty text messages, seductive photos and steamy webcam hang outs. Our webcam hang outs were probably some of the hottest that I’ve ever experienced, and I would be lying if I didn’t admit that some of those memories are permanently held in my spank bank. In fact, one of my previous posts is specifically about one of those steamy webcam sessions, and some people even call it their favourite story I’ve ever written. You can check it out here:
As you can imagine, Medicine Man and I were faced with a dilemma: should we get together in person before my Vow of Celibacy was complete? On one hand, we both knew that the sexual tension would likely be too much to bear, but on the other hand, we were both dying to meet each other. And as I’m sure you could have guessed, we came to the conclusion that meeting each other sooner rather than later needed to be our priority, and soon we were making plans for him to come to Victoria to see me.
I’ll never forget that Friday night that I drove out to the Ferry terminal to meet him. My stomach was in knots and I remember noticing that my hand was slightly shaking when I stepped out of my car. I recognized him the moment that I saw him, and all of my nervousness fell away when we wrapped our arms around each other like two old friends. We got in the car and he showed me that he had brought me some food that he had picked up from his favourite Chinese restaurant on the way. He had texted me pics of the food that he gets from that restaurant, and I kept telling him how jealous I was and how amazing it looked – and now he had brought it to me.
We took my dog for a walk and talked about how amazing it was to finally meet each other in person. He looked mostly the same as he did over webcam, but it’s always different to meet someone in “every day” mode, where their true mannerisms come out. He seemed a little bit nervous, but then again so was I. Here I was, actually taking the time to get to know someone in a way that was conducive to having a relationship. He just seemed so into me, like he was convinced that we were 100% meant to be together. He talked about how easy it would be for him to move to Victoria, and how he doesn’t have that much holding him back from making the move. It was a lot for me to digest, and I kept mentally going back to the fact that I still wasn’t sure what I was ready to handle at that time of my life.
When we got to my place, we threw a movie on and curled up on the couch, both of us excited and nervous to finally be near one another in a physical sense. He wrapped his arms around me while I leaned my head against his chest, listening to his heart beat and wondering whether or not any of this was real. He had so much confidence that I was the girl of his dreams, but I struggled to believe it, since I knew that there was so much he didn’t know about me yet. Admittedly, he knew more about me than some of my closest friends do, but there are some things that you just can’t discover about a person until you see them day in and day out. I worried that his closeness to me was merely a result of how much I knew about him, since I spent so much time listening to him.
But there he was, telling me that he didn’t want to go home until the very last ferry the next day. Whispering in my ear how nice it was to finally be able to run his fingers through my hair and to spend time with me in my place, like he had been dying to do for so long. Before long, we were making out on the couch, drinking in the taste of each other while our hands explored each other’s bodies. I could feel the the tingling urge increasing between my thighs while he looked at me longingly, his hand sliding up under my bra while his fingers caressed my nipples. I looked down and noticed the bulge growing in his pants, and I knew that there was no way in hell that the Celibacy Vow was going to survive this night. I stood up and lead him to my bedroom, where we stood in front of my bed, making out and looking into each other’s eyes for what felt like a long time. Slowly, our clothes came off, piece by piece in between stroking and exploring the freshly exposed skin.
When I pulled off his underwear, his cock popped out all thick and hard, and I had absolutely no choice but to take him into my mouth. He groaned out when I started swishing and swirling my tongue around his shaft and tip while using my hand to stroke him in and out of my mouth. His thighs twitched against me while I grabbed his butt cheeks and pushed him in and out of my mouth. I’l never forget this moment, because the pure pleasure that exuded from him while I gave him a blow job was so fucking sexy that I could feel the pressure building between my thighs just from watching him. I started to suck and lick his balls, taking one testicle in mouth at a time, swishing and licking it while my other hand stroked his hard shaft, all while looking up at him and watching the pleasure in his eyes looking back down at me.
He instructed me to lay down on the bed for him, and when our eyes met again, I could see that he was ready to take me. He slipped one finger inside of me and almost gasped when he discovered how wet I already was from watching him twitch. My legs went stiff while his finger glided in and out of me, his body leaning over mine, while his cock remained rock hard, mere inches away from my pussy. The pressure was building and building as I whimpered and pushed myself against his hand while my juices covered his fingers, and suddenly I could take no more, and I begged him to give me his cock.
In one swift movement, he slid his cock inside of me, while my entire body curled up and he leaned down to hold me, our mouths and tongues meeting in a frenzy of pleasure while I felt myself gush all over his cock. He pressed his face into the crook of my neck while he lifted his hips and began to slap his cock in and out of me while I cried out and instantly felt myself tighten around him, and the pressure was building once again. he leaned back and pushed his hands down on the back of my thighs while he pumped away, my hands on my breasts while I pinched my nipples and felt the pleasure shooting up from within me, getting closer and closer to the sweet release.
He pulled himself out of me and instructed me to get on all fours, while he positioned himself behind me, gripping my ass while his cock slid in deeper, my legs tightly squeezed together while he squatted down on me, pounding me harder and harder until the fire finally ignited and suddenly the fireworks from within were shooting through my veins and everything went white. I literally felt my pussy vibrate while the liquid came shooting out of me and all over him, soaking him with my cum while I cried out and gasped for breath at the same time. I remember squeezing my eyes shut as the pleasure washed over me, and when I opened them again, there were tears in my eyes. There are some orgasms that a girl never forgets.
Medicine Man flipped me over and put himself inside of me while curling his body around mine, holding me close while he shuddered and shook, crying out that he was going to cum. Suddenly, he was pumping his warm liquid inside of me, looking into my eyes with each stroke, our bodies completely entwined. He shuddered against me a few more times, but kept himself buried inside of me afterwards while we laid together on my bed, covered in sweat and cum while we shared soft, gentle kisses.
We went to sleep shortly after, and I think we probably fucked each other again at some point during the night. And when we woke up in the morning, I couldn’t wait for some incredible morning sex to ensue, only it never did. Instead, we woke up and got ready to go out for the day, because Medicine Man had some shopping that he wanted to do. I’ll be honest about this – I really don’t enjoy shopping very much, unless I know exactly what I want and I can make it quick. Shopping for clothes with other people can feel like absolute torture to me, and that was exactly what he wanted us to do.
When we got to the mall, I realized that he wasn’t a quick decision maker like I am. He wanted my opinion on what he was trying on, and he was indecisive about what he should actually buy. I couldn’t help but find myself slightly frustrated by this, because I honestly just wanted to go enjoy a day of adventure and sightseeing, and here we were in a shopping mall. Maybe he thought that going shopping with a girl was a good way to bond or something, but certainly not for this girl. I was also starting to get the sense that maybe he was looking for someone in his life who could be a doting Mother type figure who took care of him, and this is probably what freaked me out the most about the whole thing. I’m going to be honest, there is nothing that turns me off more than a man who is looking for these qualities in a woman.
By the time we finished shopping, we finally got to go out for lunch, followed by… more shopping. Ugh. Honestly, this was not the best date day for me, and I was feeling pretty disappointed. Not only that, but by the time we got back to my place, Medicine Man looked at the clock and declared that he was ready to go home any time now. Which meant that I ended up dropping him off one sailing sooner than the latest sailing.
My drive home felt pretty dismal, like all of the magic had been swept away from this intense connection that I thought I had with The Medicine Man. He had promised to text me when he got home safe so that I wouldn’t worry about him, but the text never came. And when I fell asleep that night, there was a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach that was difficult to ignore. What the hell was happening? How could something that felt so real change into something that felt like just another hook up so quickly? I cursed myself for breaking the Vow of Celibacy… this was exactly why I had stopped having sex in the first place. These feelings of emptiness and loneliness that eventually consume you when you give yourself away and are left standing alone. Only this time it was worse, because I truly hadn’t expected it. I was convinced that this time the result would be different.
The next morning, the routine “Good Morning” message that he had been sending me since we first started chatting never came, and that was all the evidence that I needed to confirm what I already knew. Somehow he had managed to say and do all the right things to get into my pants, even during a time when I promised myself that I wasn’t going to let anyone in my pants. He had cared more about himself and his own desires than my well being, and had left me feeling like nothing more than a gullible idiot. At least these were all the things that I was telling myself, as I sat down and wrote a post all about how much my heart was broken over the entire experience. I published the post and put it out there for the whole world to see, only to delete it some time later when I realized what an emotional wreck I was when I wrote it. At the time, I was just so upset by what had happened, that I lost the ability to articulate my thoughts in a way that was reflective. It was just a shit storm of bad feelings and the stinging reminder of what it feels like to be let down.
If the Medicine Man ever read my post, it certainly explains why I’ve never heard from him since. Even if he wasn’t just fucking with my feelings, that post would have been enough to scare anyone away regardless of their intentions. Which was exactly my intention. I wanted to make sure that the situation was completely buried, never to been seen again. It was one of those “that was fucking close” warnings, where I realized that I allowed myself to get in far too deep, and my knee jerk reaction was to get the hell out of there.
So now that you know what took place between myself and The Medicine Man, you may be able to easily understand my apprehension when it came to writing this story. Those feelings were compartmentalized and tucked away almost instantly, and I haven’t pulled them out to re-evaluate what went wrong. I still don’t know exactly what went wrong, but at least now the story is out there and off my chest.
The song that I’ve attached to this post is so painfully fitting, it could honestly be my anthem…