Tuesday, 25 November 2014

A glimpse through the window of the candy store

It has been nearly 3 months since the fateful night with Ian in the swing club in early September, as described in 'from the frying pan to the fire' and 'badly burned'. Sadly we haven't seen him since.

Communications in the aftermath, although continued on the same theme, were shorter, and he seemed busy and distracted. I feared he was bored of me, and since the night in the club, I had had a strong gut feeling that the relationship had run its course. He had become particularly one tracked minded, being entirely focused on the involvement of other people in our sexual activity. In the minimal text conversations, following that night, he was even worse, and suggestions to come to our house to experience more private fantasies were ignored. The only thing in his favour was that he had acknowledged to Dale at the club, and to myself the next day, that we needed to slow down on glory hole type experiences.

I wanted to call it a day. However, to my surprise, Dale said he couldn't live without Ian's text messages! So I told him to keep in touch if he must, but I personally couldn't handle it any more. It wasn't so much the recent pushy behaviour - we had known  him long enough to know that this could be resolved. But I was just so exhausted with chasing him for a date, then being shoe-horned in for a few hours on a week night. Surely this shouldn't be such hard work!

However I couldn't stop thinking about how good his bare cock felt inside me. I yearned to feel that again. So we continued to try and reach out.

But we were rarely able to get hold of him, and when we did, nothing meaningful came of it. As communications became more infrequent, I realised that, like Dale, I too needed the text banter. The Obsessive Addiction that I wrote about in the page 'Ian part 2' was stronger than ever. I came to terms with not having Ian fuck me, but I found I badly missed the sexting - after all 90% of the relationship had always been text message based.

I stopped taking the pill. This was more of a psychological step than anything; with Dale having had the snip, I had only gone on the pill for Ian - taking it everyday reminded me of what he wasn't giving me!

We tried again in November to meet up with him, and he responded with his usual enthusiasm, and as usual nothing came if it. He quickly disappeared again, and this was the final straw. It was time to forget him - at least for now. I was very angry, and Dale was bitterly disappointed. We had invested nearly a year and a half of our lives into this dream, on the strength of Ian's promises and fantasies. Time after time he failed to deliver what he had outlined to us in so many months of texting.

In fairness he more or less gave up the lifestyle when he started his own business; he works round the clock and spends a lot of time in Europe. As a result he no longer goes to the club, where he was  one of the more sought after single studs. We had observed with interest how he was welcomed in the club like the returning prodigal son - at least we knew that it wasn't just us! But it annoyed me that he had taken so many other couples on exciting journeys, and that by the time we met him when he no longer had time to play. 

On the other hand, when one wants something, one makes it happens. And Ian was bang out of order to continually promise something he wasn't willing or able to deliver on. Ian is, to all intents and purposes, a total fantasist. He means well with what he says, but he drifts through life and doesn't think, and as a result over promises.  I don't believe he intends to cause hurt and disapointment, but Dale and I feel like a child who has been shown the candy store, then told 'this is what you can't have'!

Throughout the autumn we continued our search for a man to join us in bed. We decided not to look for another Dom. Ian had done our heads in. What we now wanted was an uncomplicated drama free threesome - the kind that Jerry gave us in January. That, we believed, would make us feel much better! 

Then after meeting a number of unsuitable men, and having even more communications that came to nothing, we started talking to another Dom Bull. Will we ever learn?

And things went fifty shades darker.....

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