Tag Archives: flirting

Seduction scene set

I’m going to seduce The Irish Cougar, then I’m going to dump her. When the day arrives that she fully realizes this, she’ll go cold inside then start wondering why I did this to her. With more thought she’ll realize it is because she tricked me from the outset and now I’ve done the same to her. She’ll complain to her closest friends to help her make sense of it all, but as they huddle in their oestrogen bubble like haggard witches of old around a simmering cauldron, deep down they’ll know that playing games with men can backfire.

The Irish Cougar and I have fallen into the habit of calling each other every night. I suppose it’s normal practise for a dating couple, but to me it’s just part of wreaking my revenge on a woman trying to deceive me. I keep the conversation light and it almost always centres around her working day. From having lived with two other women for almost twenty years I have come to accept that part of life as a couple involves the woman talking or complaining about her working day for about an hour to her man. They claim it’s called ‘venting’, while I call it a waste of time.

Women seem to have a need to unburden themselves emotionally and once having done so they feel better for it. Not so for men. Men do a far better job of compartmentalizing or suppressing their feelings about their working lives from their home-life. We spend enough time at work, why squander free time by talking about it? I guess it’s just a gender difference that nobody tells us about. I think that most men find this aspect of a relationship a nuisance while women think their men insensitive.

I use The Irish Cougar’s need to vent as opportunity to draw her closer to me. Like a motionless spider on the edge of a web, her talking is like a fly moving closer to the centre of my web. When the time is right, the spider that is me will make its move. She’s not the only one who can play games.

We agree to get together on the coming Saturday, but that’s not when I’ll strike. I’m going to have to be a little bit more patient. Besides, I’m seeing Cat Lady on Sunday; who knows what will happen then.

On the Thursday I start swapping emails with The Irish Cougar while she’s bored at work. I use it as an opportunity to raise the temperature of the cauldron that the witches will pontificate over later. Is that ‘witches’ or ‘bitches’? I’m not quite sure.

I say this because I’ve been thinking about her motives and actions. From talking to my other dates I’ve learned that the typical woman on a dating site has a small team of confidants/cheerleaders/advisors behind her, helping their friend along, guiding her away from danger, passing judgement on men they’ve never seen, living vicariously through their friend’s experiences. It’s a rare woman who is dating all on her own without anybody else’s input. Did one or more of The Irish Cougar’s circle convince that trying to pass herself off as being ten years younger was the way to go?

My experience with Lusty Lass and naughty emails gives me the confidence and skills to indulge in a naughty exchange of messages. I turn the conversation sexual because I want The Irish Cougar fixated with me.

Grey Knight: Food can be fun, we agreed the other day…. 🙂

If it’s Summer, I like to squirt some whipped cream along the contours of a woman’s body…watch and feel her recoil from the cold sensation…then slowly lick it all off with my warm tongue…

If it’s winter, I do the same with maple syrup…

Would you like that?

Irish Cougar: Why not cream in summer and winter 🙂

I would like that …….

Grey Knight: I’m not set on anything in the bedroom…everybody has their likes and dislikes, that much I know.

I’m a giver, not a taker. Giving my woman pleasure IS my pleasure.

What do you like?

Irish Cougar: I love penetration, I also love being watched while I make myself come….love to have my back kissed, my hair pulled….

Grey Knight: I LOVE watching a woman making herself cum…one of my joys in life!

There is something delicious, from a man’s point of view, of having a woman on her knees before you ready for doggy style, then slowly penetrating her, listening to the sounds she makes as I slide in to her, feeling her body react, hearing her catch her breath, rocking slowly then… ever quicker…deeper…then bunching her hair in my hand and slowly pulling her head back…

What else do you like?

Irish Cougar: Foreplay is vital…sometimes a quick ‘tear each others clothes off’ and make each other come is good too……:)

kissing, licking, sucking works for me……

Sitting astride you, very sexy, riding you……

Grey Knight: Are you getting turned on?

Irish Cougar: most definitely, while trying to look professional here at the office 🙂

you……

Grey Knight: I’m aroused, but I’m like that most days, most of the day. I have a very high sex drive…but I have never cheated nor will I.

Are you wet right now?

If I were in the office now, what would you like to have happen?

Tell me…

Irish Cougar: I am wet too….

Take me the other other office, remove my dress keeping my stockings and high shoes on and fuck me hard…….

Grey Knight: Have you ever gone to the restroom at work and played with yourself?

Irish Cougar: no….enjoying the feeling of being turned on 🙂

Grey Knight: Would you like to go to your restroom and play with yourself?

Irish Cougar: I would like to lay down and make myself come…..

Grey Knight: Have you ever photographed or videod yourself doing that?

Would you like to?

Irish Cougar: no I have not, mmmm…no not sure I would want to…..

Grey Knight: It’s a life-enhancing experience…you should try it sometime…

Tell me how you make yourself cum…

Irish Cougar: I would rather show you……….. when the time is right 🙂

what kind of things have you been daydreaming about……

Grey Knight: I’m daydreaming about discovering what gets your blood flowing, what you love, how you’re going to react to the things that I can do to you and for you…the sounds you make, how you smell…I’m especially dying to know how you taste…I reckon you taste sweeter than you realize…

Irish Cougar: very turned on here….I love sex, have a high sex drive, ‘frisky’ time, I love morning sex and would say night time and spontaneous sex …

Grey Knight: What have you been daydreaming?

Tell me…in detail…

Irish Cougar: non…I already talk too much….. 🙂

Grey Knight: Would you like to be turned on some more?

Irish Cougar: yes …I would…..

Grey Knight: Do you like being massaged?

Imagine lying on your stomach…

Naked…

I straddle you…

I have warm oil in my hands and spread it slowly across your back…

Irish Cougar: I love to be massaged…….go on…more …….

Grey Knight: I stretch my hands over your back, starting at the base of the spine and gently push up towards your shoulders…

My hands sliding over the oil, your skin cresting like waves before my hands…

I glide my hands back down to your spine, and repeat…

Increasing the pressure gradually every time…

I can feel your body relaxing under me…

Irish Cougar: More

Grey Knight: I massage your muscles, finding the knots and releasing them…

Your body is warming up to my touch…

The force in my hands is strong, but your body doesn’t mind…

Once I feel your body is totally relaxed, limp even…

I lean forward and start kissing your back…

Starting at the base of the spine, kissing either side of it…

Kissing upwards, slowly, surely…

Tasting the oil on my lips…

Irish Cougar: hmmm…

Grey Knight: I reach the top of the spine…

Brushing your hair to one side…

I kiss the nape of your neck…your ear…your cheek…

You make interesting sounds…approving sounds…that start to turn me on…

I lick your neck and ear…

My hands are near your shoulders…

reach the top of the spine…

Brushing your hair to one side…

I kiss the nape of your neck…your ear…your cheek…

You make interesting sounds…approving sounds…that start to turn me on…

I lick your neck and ear…

My hands are near your shoulders…

Irish Cougar: More

Grey Knight: I turn you over…

Exposing all your femininity to me…

With barely pausing to enjoy the sight of you…

I kiss your throat…then neckline…then shoulders…

Irish Cougar: Hmm

Grey Knight: Are you wet?

Irish Cougar: very…..

Grey Knight: I kiss down the side of your shoulder, along the top of your arm…

Occasionally giving a little lick…just for variety…

Arriving at your breast…I don’t do what every amateur lover does…

Instead, I kiss the side of the breast…ignoring the nipple…

Kissing in a big concentric motion all around the breast…

Slowly drawing the circle smaller…

Eventually my lips arrive at the nipple… 

Irish Cougar: Hmm

Grey Knight: Do you feel like playing with yourself?

Irish Cougar: I so feel like playing with myself…..

Grey Knight: I want to watch you playing with yourself…I want to video it so that you can see how sexy you look when doing that for me…

I ignore that nipple…and kiss across your chest to the other breast…

Kissing in a big circle all around it, once again closing the circle…towards the nipple…

I ignore this nipple too…kissing along your side…down toward your hips…

Kissing over the pelvic bone..ever downwards…

Down towards where you want to feel my lips and tongue…

Irish Cougar: I do……

Grey Knight: I kiss the top of your thigh…in a straight line down to your knee…

Down towards the inside of the knee…

You can ‘t help but spread your legs wide for me…

Inviting me…

I keep kissing the inside of your thigh…slowly…gradually…

Up to your groin…

I lick your groin…

Irish Cougar: I feel I want to spread my legs here at my desk……..

Grey Knight :And do what…

Irish Cougar: for you to lick and kiss and suck me……

Grey Knight: I’m looking forward to doing that…and a whole lot more.

What other people call fantasies…I call plans…

Do you have fantasies/plans you want to make come true?

Irish Cougar: oh I do and I am not talking about them with you in email, face to face……

Grey Knight: We have lots to look forward to… 🙂

Hungry and horny now…

Gotta get some lunch…

Irish Cougar: It is mental here so much going on…that was fun and has me feeling flushed 🙂

I’ve now set the scene to seduce The Irish Cougar. All through this exchange I’m very aware of the fact that I’m dealing with a woman who is significantly older than me, but who is still trying to have me think that she’s younger than me. She wants to play games with men; fine, let’s play.

Shakespeare taught me that all is fair in love and war. I’ve always found that statement ambiguous because it hints at sinister and dark deeds. That’s a side of life that holds no fascination for me. I even fear it somewhat because I am naïve to it, but I am learning, whether I want to or not.

Machiavelli’s ‘The Prince’ has long fuelled a debate on the back of his assertion that “It is better to be feared than loved”. Of course he was writing about early sixteenth-century political and military machinations between small Italian republics. As a young man when introduced to this debate I took it to heart as gospel and it has served me well in the workplace. I also apply it to personal relationships. I let people choose to trust, respect and even love me, but if they choose not to, then I reciprocate in kind.

I have found that this approach to life has been most sound in that I have surrounded myself with people whom I can rely on. In return they get the same and the best of me at all times. Life has been pretty black and white for me as I have found that keeping things simple is glorious. However, as I progress on my quest through the Kingdom of Dating, I find my world becoming increasingly grey. I’m encountering people whose methods and motives are questionable and I fear that some of it is starting to rub off on me.

Depeche Mode – Policy of Truth

The Exgf returns

What the hell does she want?! My ex-girlfriend (Exgf) only initiates contact with people when she wants something from them. Does she want me back? Not a hope in hell. It’s been over a year without any kind of contact between us and I want to keep it that way. As I sit staring at her message on my phone I realize that it’s in my interest to talk to her because I still have a lot of money invested in the house she’s living in. I want that money back. Fuck it, I have to talk to her.

It’s a beautifully warm July Saturday afternoon as I arrive at the same pub where we had met for our very first date more than six years ago. She suggested this venue and it made me laugh. I’ve come to talk about the future of what used to be our home, but I know her, there’s always something else going on in the background with her.

As I get out my car I sense her looking at me. She’s sitting outside at a table by herself. I’m always early and she’s here before me? Usually she’s late for everything and has today even bought herself a drink. Hmm, she’s keen. This makes me suspicious and I go more on the defensive. Dealing with her since I learned of her true nature feels like riding on the back of a Great White shark.

I kiss her hello on a cheek, just like I would any other date, except that this isn’t a date, I’m expecting it to be a negotiation. She’s wearing a light Summer dress and her big boobs are popping out at the top. Is that for my benefit? We exchange brief pleasantries and I go to get a drink from the bar inside. I laugh to myself at the surreal feeling that this situation has. I want absolutely nothing to do with her and yet here I find myself.

“I don’t know what to do about the house,” she says as I sit down with my drink.

“Well, you have to pay somewhere to live, so it may as well be somewhere that you have a big garden,” I retort. I immediately see through her ploy of trying to manipulate me and fend her off with what I know she likes best about the place that she won’t get anywhere else.

Round and round the conversation goes, all in a civil manner, with her throwing reason after reason to sell the house now. What’s left outstanding on the mortgage is what is the property’s current market value. The British property market needs to recover significantly for there to be any hope of me getting all my money back. We’re years away from that happening, possibly never. Selling the house achieves nothing.

It’s clear to me that she’s trying to elicit some kind of reaction out of me, what exactly I don’t know, but she’s not getting it. We keep coming back to what I said initially that she will always have to pay to live somewhere. She realizes that a stalemate has set in and that I’m not going to be led by the nose. We fall silent.

“I miss you,” she says softly.

“That’s nice,” I say and take a sip of my pint. I really couldn’t care less about her.

“I’ve been on a few dates,” she says, trying to bait me some more. I’m not biting.

“And?”

“I keep comparing them to you,” she says.

“Have you slept with any of them?” I ask, curious and brazen at the same time, expecting her to say yes. I really don’t care what she thinks or how she responds. She can storm off in a huff, I’ll laugh and stay to finish my drink.

“No, I didn’t,” she says in a way that I know is the truth, because I know how she speaks when she lies.

Her words are a rare honesty, a naked vulnerability that was largely absent during our five-year relationship. I’m glad to hear that she’s back on the dating scene, not because I’m happy that she feels ready to move on, no because it means that she’s keeping my competition busy. I have very little positive feelings for her; she already took them all.

She starts telling me about her dates, what was wrong with them, why they were unsuitable and I just listen in silence. It occurs to me that I’m in passive disinterested mode; I’m sitting back in my seat, my feet pointing away from her and I’m not saying much. She’s leaning forward, her tits almost falling out of her dress and she’s very keen to have my attention.

For the past year I’ve sublimated any feelings I’ve had about her. I think my experience with her was a poison pill that I’ve swallowed but not expelled or diluted in my system. If any of my dates said or did anything that reminded me of her, I’d lose interest in them. With her every negative word my body becomes more tense. Dormant feelings of rage start to stir inside me and they grow like an acid eating away at my insides. I keep a straight face as she talks but all the while I’m growing angrier at her. I still have unfinished business with her, I realize.

While she sits there finding fault with what are probably perfectly good, respectable men, an idea comes to me…an idea of revenge.

She’s an ideal candidate for a fuckbuddy. I always enjoyed having sex with her and now, courtesy of her sex diaries, I know exactly what she’s capable of. I know exactly how she used sex to manipulate men, myself included. She was holding out on me, putting on a good-girl act for me, meanwhile she’s the biggest slut in town. I have zero respect for her. That’s great because there is no risk of me falling in love, the timeless trap of the fuckbuddy concept. She obviously wants something from me, probably wants us to try again, so she’ll be very keen to please me. I’m in a position to exploit her, to get what other men have got out of her and for it to cost me very little. Everything it could have cost me financially and emotionally I have already paid.

Her phone rings and without asking me, she answers it. Yes, her manners are that bad. I think that there was always a gap between us when it comes to etiquette, but hey, sex is the great leveller of all social pretence. I hear her conversation with a friend, but my mind is mulling over my despicable idea: I like it.

“I have a friend in the neighbourhood coming to join us for a few minutes,” she says.

“Do I know this friend?” I ask.

“No, she’s new. She’s very useful to know because she has loads of contacts and she even got me some part-time work twice last year,” she says.

My Exgf will never change, she’ll always attach ‘usefulness’ to anybody she meets. I must have been so ‘useful’ to her. Maybe it’s time she makes herself useful to me, to my libido in particular. She uses people all the time, I think I’ll show her what it feels like.

The friend arrives and joins us after she gets herself a drink. I decide to do something naughty; I decide to flirt with the friend. This woman couldn’t be more unattractive to me: mousey-brown hair, weathered skin, flat chest, anorexic body, poor grooming and bad fashion sense.

Nevertheless I turn on active interest, I turn to face her, my feet point towards her and I initiate open-ended conversation. I’m affable, I’m interested and interesting. All my attention is directed at the innocent little friend. Yes, I was being a shit, but I don’t care.

My Exgf has never seen me like this before. I think her ego took a pounding as she watched me chat up another women right in front of her. I have no doubt in my mind that she wants me more than ever now; I can see it in her wide eyes. I know how to work her and work her I shall. The friend is enjoying my attention and starts playing with her hair. My Exgf just sits in stunned silence. I’m in complete control of the situation.

After about half an hour of flirting, the friend realizes what I’m doing but my Exgf is still oblivious. The friend makes her excuses and leaves. I turn to my Exgf and smile, knowing that she has never seen me like that because only since I left her have I been on so many dates that I now have these dating skills. She seems in a mild state of shock; I think I see her hand shake as she lifts her glass.

I don’t know what she was expecting from this afternoon, but it’s definitely not going how she planned. The less I cared, the more power I had. Maybe there is something to that nasty adage of “Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen.”

“Right, I need to go now,” she says.

“Okay,” is all I say as I stand to kiss her goodbye on a cheek.

“There’s some other things I want to talk about, so how about we meet up another time?” she says.

I say nothing and merely smile. Here, fishy fishy…

I watch her drive off, but stay to finish my drink and savour a warm feeling that has come over me and it’s not just from the sun on my back. I sit thinking about my fuckit list.

Apparently revenge is a dish best served cold. If that’s true, then I sense an unseasonal Siberian cold front heading our way…

Justin Timberlake – What goes around comes around