Dating tip

Just for reference, when the woman you're interested in texts you "I'm very wet" and "I want you inside me" and she's lying on a hotel bed naked hundreds of miles away masturbating while you "sext" her, I think you have a decent shot.
Oh my.

Really

My secret wife and I have now had time together as man and wife.
No, not that. Just time in a parking lot in her car. And the most intense kisees I've ever had, and I acquit myself a good kisser.
But she opened up, mouth agape, more than any woman I've been with (never kissed a guy, sorry), a raw, needing, wide open mouth to mouth embrace beyond my experience.
But something I want again. And something I feel still.

No, no idea what to do but love her. That's enough, I think.

This one

No-one has read this, I know. But if you had, I think this is the one.
I know, I babble about women and my ambivalence and lack of understanding. And it's been true. And there's been a reason.

Now I have a true love. One that I've been waiting 53 years for.

Yes, she's married. Yes, she has 2 children, the youngest 2 years old.

But we've grown to love each other organically, slowly, routinely over 10 years of working together. And two weeks ago she quit to be a stay-at-home wife to her millionaire husband (roughly the same career arc as me, he's a peer of mine at work).

And in those few weeks our feelings towards each other, the understanding, the closeness, the reality of knowing each other through stupid horrible work spats to sharing life's details during the day have blossomed from their coccons into what they really are, a deep and abiding respect and love.

On Friday I asked ner, through text of course in 2011, to be my secret wife. She said yet.

And I kissed her Monday in the park at lunch. Not a big deal in a club on a Friday night. But to us, it was the same as making love for days, it was the same as accepting our vows and marrying.

And I would. There is no woman in the last 20 years who I would shoose to be married to but her, that includes the woamn I've been living with for 16 years.

Romantic infatuation? Hardly. We've both been married 2 times, with lovers interspersed. But this is different. Oh my, teenage talk. It's different exactly because we're not teenagers, we're full-fledged adults who have seen a hell of a lot, and see in each other a soul who's seen the same things.

Seen the same things, and been OK with them We're low-class scrappers who've ended up in the upper crust. We know what these others thin of love isn't, that's just connivence and status.

Don't dismiss this as hormonal maunderings. This is the abused street kid from Jersey connecting with the abused street kid from Louisiana, knowing that the other gets it. The shit our peers, husbands and live-in partners think is real isn't. Holding a woman who knows what real, that one kiss that may have to keep us for months, is better than anything these shadows can give to us.

We're in love, forever. Not in a vacuous way. We may never be "intimate", we may never ever have more than an hour together for the next 20 years. We're us, and when we're together we have a refuge in each other. When we're apart we have a refuge with each other.

Would I hand 3 million dollars over to my live-in partner to be quit of her for this woman? I would.

Would I ask her to toss over her two children to be with me? No.

So we'll see. But this is really love. 53 years. And I have it.

Don't give up.

Let me introduce you to my wife, Heather.

Married

I am now married. Secretly, and maybe never to be consummated.
But I'm married in my heart, and in her heart, to the woman I mentioned in my last post.

I was too cavalier in my response. And it's been 10 years,not 5,that we've known each other, a bit of mis-direction I provide because I'm hyper-paranoid about someone tracing the fake identity back to my real identity.

I do love her, and more importantly (because I've loved many women) I really like her a hell of a lot too. She is a woman who, in my pride, I would love to have on my arm at a society event, more than any other woman I have ever been with. And she's got something I can relate to more than all the others, she;s a kid from nothing who's made herself something, picked up the polish and the walk to match the snobs, just like I have. She's Joan Blondel to my Jimmy Cagny, we're perfectly suited to each other, we get it.
And today we told each other we loved each other. Against the absurd background of her perfect life with 2 kids and an 8 million dollar home with her little pud of a husband. And my perfect life with a community that reveres me and my woman-partner (they think is my wife) contribution and apparent perfect life.

But this one and I are soulmates. Absurd. But we are, and I want that, and I will marry her if I ever have the chance, if I ever, and she ever chooses, to have that chance. And I have not said that of anyone else, to myself, in 30 years.

I love you Heather, and want you to be my wife. If only in secret. If only forever unknown, unconsummated, if only in our hearts.

Another one

Oh my, hooked another one.
Look, I really don't try to do this. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only decent guy in this city and there is a huge void around every woman.
Then I come along and offer some caring, some listening, and some reality and whoosh, I have another woman attached to me.

The latest is a woman who has been working for me for 5 year. I've always been very careful around her at work, listening, paying attention, sharing thoughts, ideas, and fun. But never more than that, wouldn't go to lunch, wouldn't go out for drinks, wouldn't even have a speck of physical contact. I like her, I respect her, and I like to be around her, but never ever ay impropriety. Hell, she works for me, a hint of anything and I'm fired with a harassment suit.
She quit last week. Her husband (who also works at the same company) and her accumulated enough wealth that she can now stop working and live in her multi-million dollar custom house. With her two kids. And her $400,000 country club membership.
She's all weepy on her last day, how much she'll miss me. "Yes yes" I say and think "I know, but we'll stay in touch".
Stay in touch.
Today we arranged to meet in the park I spend my lunchtime in. I walk across the grass to meet her, now we're not boss and employee, we're friends.
She grabs me in a hug. Not a friends hug. A lovers hug. And for the next hour, all I can share with her, she holds me like we're ardent lovers. Not a kiss, but that's only because she won't turn her face to me for fear of "kissing you like I can't stop".
Yes, I caress her back, her neck, her hair, and lean my head into her to gather her scent into my nose, I am a natural man, I do that because it's real. But I don't try to kiss her lips, I keep my hands where they hold, not molest.
And she moans, and sighs.
I know, come on, sometimes it's obvious, that if I choose to pull her chin to me and kiss her lips we would be making love within the hour. It's not machismo, really, this poor young (38) woman is starving for a man to care, to listen, to just hold in a sensual way.
We did nothing more than that, I walked her back to her car and she clung to me. And finally pulled away, she literally stood stock still with her hands in fists at her side straining not to overwhelm me with her love.

And drove off. Her parting words "text me when you're thinking of me, I love that".

And we'll meet again next week.

And here we go again. Yes, I love this woman too, another. And it is simple. I care. I listen, I put a tender hand on her hair, not as an act, but because I do love the closeness with her, the feel of her body and spirit. And I don't have any restrictions, i will take her in my arms any time, and would caress her and love her, and make love to her, without any concern about my other relationships. Because mine are simple, no marriage, no children, just love.

But her. Married. two kids. Desperate for caring.

I will give her all she wants. I will always be happy, and free, but I fear she will find tears.

But I cannot be other that what I am, and that "am", for some reason, is something she needs and love.

Love.