Sunday morning we’re both awake before sunrise and the banter is light and easy. The Cockaholic’s eyes sparkle and she says, “I’m sorry, but please forgive me for doing this,” and pushes the covers off of me and starts sucking on my morning glory. Not a bad way to be woken, for sure, but I would much prefer it to be with a women who is crazy about me and not crazy at me.
I feel it’s too risky to cum in her pussy; I don’t want to get her pregnant, so I cum in her mouth. As always The Cockaholic happily swallows my load without a break in her rhythm. She is the happiest cock-sucking, cum-swallower I’ve ever encountered. I think there are men who would put up with her for just the phenomenal blowjobs.
A little later I’m licking her clit and fingering her g-spot. Suddenly The Cockaholic lifts her head, looks at me and says, “You have a fucking gorgeous body.” Yes, it’s nice to hear, but I’m surprised at her timing of this declaration of undying lust. Where did that come from? What is she thinking about as she lies there? I don’t think I’ll ever understand the workings of any one woman’s mind, especially after this one’s cold, aloof behaviour of last night.
After breakfast we speed off in her sports car to a nearby town to visit the Christmas market around the cathedral. She’s a speed-freak and takes unnecessary risks, swearing at any other motorist who dares hoot at us. In this moment she reminds me of Pretty Teacher. On the drive over she starts snapping at anything I say. After a while I’m reluctant to say anything. The Cockaholic has become hard work again. Sitting at traffic lights I decide to tell her how I’m feeling, that she’s changed and I don’t know why. She responds angrily with, “Do you want me to drop you off here?”
That killed my feelings for her – stone dead. The fact that she was willing to discard me like a bag of unwanted rubbish at the side of the road is a gross insult, laced with disrespect and contempt. We see out the rest of the day in muted hostility. I can’t figure out what has brought on this attitude. I’ve said and done nothing to deserve it.
We silently walk around the Christmas market, there’s the smell of warm, mulled wine and sweet frying onions in the air, children’s laughter serenades us as a contented buzz envelopes us, but it all feels like a straight-jacket to me. My stomach is clenched tight and my brain is racing, my heart is filled with familiar bitter feelings.
I’m going off The Cockaholic and find my thoughts wandering over to finding a way to say goodbye to her. Instead of staying over like I do every Sunday night, I make polite excuses and go home. Although I can’t wait to get the hell away from her, I make a point of leaving in a civil fashion, to keep my options open. I now have enough experience to not make any rash decisions, but to take a moment or two to think things over before taking irreversible action.
Monday night I phone her, hoping to have a civil chat, but she starts fretting over trivial things and making mountains out of molehills. I become exasperated and simply say her name in an attempt to calm her down, to which she becomes indignant and we essentially put the phone down on each other. I don’t understand why she’s pushing me away, constantly being at odds with anything I say, quick to take offence, constantly feeding back negatively. Until recently she was so positive, letting nothing phase her. Whatever her reasons, I frankly don’t care. I don’t need this. I just don’t feel enough for her to take on board and work through this shit.
I’ll say goodbye to The Cockaholic this week.
As far as I’m concerned I’m totally single again, so out of curiosity more than anything I re-install Tinder on my phone and start flicking through faces. My search area is narrow so it doesn’t take me long to spot a profile that I’m convinced is The Cockaholic putting on a disguise. She’s wearing a broad beach-hat, has a large scarf draped around her neck and the photo is taken from a distance in low light. Nevertheless I recognize The Cockaholic from her distinctive body shape and hint of a smile. The distance is two miles further than her home, but that would place her at naughty best friend’s place. Has this friend been influencing her, given that she’s an expert at sneaking around? I don’t actually care any more.
The Cockaholic mentioned on Monday night that she was having dinner with someone on Tuesday night. The way she said it made me suspicious. I suspect that it’s a date and, quite frankly, I couldn’t care less. Neither of us make any attempt to communicate with the other on Tuesday. I phone her at 9.30pm on Wednesday night, knowing that she’s always home by then, but my call goes to her voicemail. At lunchtime on Thursday she sends me a text message saying that she only got my message then. I suspect that she was out again, perhaps sleeping over at some guys place. She was very quick to jump into bed with me, so why not someone else?
The Cockaholic promises to call me tonight; I’ll say goodbye to her then.
11th December – Thursday
I’m expecting this break-up to result in one of three responses: 1) She’s shocked and disappointed 2) She’s not shocked nor disappointed 3) Tells me that she’s met someone anyway. My instincts tell me that’s it’s most likely the latter.
I’ve just got off the phone from The Cockaholic. I said to her, “I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re not right for each other”. Her initial reaction was a curt, emotionless “Okay”. That was it. I pry for further words, but she didn’t want to discuss it or say anything else. It was option 2 – she wasn’t shocked or disappointed. The Cockaholic didn’t seem upset at all, more blasé and indifferent. I said a few nice words to be civil and soften the blow in case she was upset in some way. My words seemed to have zero impact. Less than a minute later we said goodbye.
Despite everything I think she’s a good, decent person, but just devoid of the appeal and magic that I want, expect and need from a relationship. I think her insecurities will wreck any relationship. I know that I have my own trust issues, but I’m aware of them and I try to keep them in check. Experiences like this are not helping soothe them though.
The more I think about what happened between us and her sudden change in behaviour, the more I think she had started seeing someone else. It would be churlish of me to be indignant, after all I wasn’t exactly honest with her in the beginning. It seems almost fair that she wasn’t honest with me towards the end. There’s an irony there that amuses me somewhat. Easy come, easy go – Tinder hey-ho and heave-ho.
The very next night, a Friday, The Cockaholic sends me a text message just after 10pm that simply says, “Hahahaha.”
At first I thought that she sent this to me by mistake, but then I see another angle. The way I know The Cockaholic, it’s her saying that she’s having the last laugh. I take that as final confirmation that she has been seeing someone else or has just met someone interesting for a date or a shag. Good luck to her…and him.
This encounter has left me a hollow feeling inside. I know that my intent was bad, that The Cockaholic was supposed to just be a one-night stand, but I liked her, well, the initial her. I guess I got literally sucked into a so-called ‘situationship’ with her. Then it quickly turned sour and I think it’s because she developed suspicions about my whereabouts which led to her choosing to pursue a course of action which was not warranted. Perhaps it was for the best.
I’m surprised by how little I feel about this, it scares me.
Is it because I wasn’t that taken by her to start with? Is it because I’m starting to expect all encounters to end in failure? Is my heart hardening? More importantly, am I capable of love any more? I don’t know.
All that coupled with the recent revelation of The Saffa’s duplicitous actions while I was still interested in her has reinforced this hollow feeling. I understand now that the source of her self-induced drama was exaggerated by guilt from her sneaking around too.
I find myself sitting listening to Robbie Williams’ ‘Feel’ over and over again. The words are about me and I don’t know what to do about that.
Who or what am I going to meet next? I’m developing a sense of trepidation…
Lessons learned: 1) Beware a jealous, insecure woman because she’ll make your life hell and ruin the relationship. Don’t make excuses for her behaviour, they don’t change, don’t be a diaper for her issues, just move on. 2) A mutual lack or erosion of trust kills a romance quicker than acid. 3) No matter how good the sex, it’s only a matter of time before it all ends. 4) Some women are ‘anacondas’ in their relationship style. At first they’re all sweetness and light, but slowly they tighten the noose and try to control their man. 5) When a woman’s behaviour suddenly changes for the worse, then something serious is going on, perhaps another man. Passive-aggressive behaviour might be driven by guilt.
Robbie Williams- Feel