I haven’t decided what to do about The Saffa. There might be another guy on the scene but that’s not what’s bothering me about her; her reckless behaviour makes me feel unsafe about her. She’s starting to get on my nerves with her petulant negativity towards her employers. Her way of dealing with her work situation reminds me just too much of how my Exgf went about things that almost always resulted in a lot of bad feeling all round. Her obstinacy rivals my mother’s. I’ll try to help The Saffa and perhaps she’ll respond well to new tricks?
As the week unfolds I help steer her away from the rocks of where she would have lost her job and probably moved in with me for a while. Her employers have started handing her written letters that seem to have been crafted by a lawyer. I temper her response but it’s hard work. Her handling of the situation is piss-poor and I’ve lost a bit of respect for her.
On her afternoon off she comes to visit me. As usual we get down to conventional sex in my bedroom. I eventually came with her on The Hook, she’s shouting “please fuck me in the arse”. It’s just naughty talk but it always makes me cum. It has been four days since my last release and I’m sore and leaden, but feel so good after my orgasm; it’s one of the best of my life.
She brought the tube of KY Jelly and I raised an eyebrow. We’d always joked about trying anal sex because of the size of my cock. She confessed to having done it twice before with other guys but was intimidated by my cock. It’s not something I crave but she keeps bringing it up.
It was time for her to go home but she started kissing me all over again. She knows how I like that but she was again going to be late for work. We ended up trying anal sex, but only the tip of my cock slid in – quite nicely too – but she couldn’t take it and sprang away from me. We laughed about it, even as her train departed at exactly when she should have been reporting for work.
Unsurprisingly the next night she phones me and tells me of the drama that ensued because she got back to work more than an hour late the previous night. I try to calm her then try to talk sense into her, but she’s not wanting to listen to anything I say. The Saffa deliberately talks over me each time I try to say something. I fall silent, then she falls silent. I start to talk and she talks over me, several times and intentionally. She is now seriously pissing me off.
“Dammit! Will you listen to me?!” I bark.
She put the phone down on me.
Whaaat the fuck?! I don’t deserve this from her. I’m trying to help her. Ungrateful bitch.
I believe that all it takes for a relationship to break down is for one person’s behaviour to become unacceptable to the other person. I’ve been on this roller-coaster with other women and I’m not getting on it again. That’s it, our increasingly tainted love is over! She’s history.
Fuck it! I hurt Busty Czech for her. I gave up an expensive holiday that I badly need so as to have The Saffa in my life. This is the thanks I get?! I’m angry, angrier than any woman has made since I left my Exgf. I also feel foolish for putting my eggs in one basket.
Driven by a rage that permeates my body more comprehensively than Mexican tap water, I go onto Tinder. I spot the awesome-looking woman that I think of as The Artist, someone whose profile brought me to a standstill the first time I saw her earlier in the year on my Happy Humping Ground dating site. Excitedly I swipe right, but we don’t match. Disappointed I move on and click on a dozen pretty blonde faces.
Overnight I get two matches and start swapping messages. In a matter of hours I’ve set up a date for tonight, Friday night and another for Saturday lunchtime. What nobody knows is that I’m not looking for love with these two women. I’ve been reading unsavoury reviews of what Tinder is about and it seems to have degenerated into a hook-up app. Yet another woman, this time The Saffa, has made me exasperated towards women in general. Very few are interested in love, most just want sex. Fine, maybe I’ve been a blind fool, so if this is the real game in town I’d better start playing by the correct set of rules!
I’ve never had a one-night stand, maybe it’s time to broaden my boundaries. If all that women on Tinder want is sex then their honesty frees me from any emotions resembling love. I’ll just fuck them and dump them; they know the score. For the hell of it I’ll rattle The Saffa’s cage, put her through the wringer for a while before I dump her too.
On Friday I tell The Saffa via a text message that I was meeting a male friend that night. I smile as all sorts of questions start coming in via Whatsapp about details of where I was going, what I was wearing. She was suspicious and you know what, I didn’t feel too guilty about it. I felt anger towards her and going on another date with someone new and intending to bed her at the end of the night felt devoid of moral bankruptcy. I felt entitled to do what I wanted after the past week of her bad behaviour.
I’ll fuck one horny slut on Friday night then another Tinderella on Saturday.
I couldn’t know that I was about to meet the woman I shall refer to as ‘The Cockaholic’.
Tainted Love – Marilyn Manson