Shooting Myself in the Foot

It’s half past one in the morning and I can’t sleep. Given that I started my final finals today and have another one on Thursday I could likely be putting my insomnia to better use, but no, here I am, writing on my blog and listening to Roxette.

Some of you will remember Sonic who has popped up once or twice in the past. Being a first year and living in university-owned accommodation, Sonic has no fewer than eighteen (count them) flatmates (of whom at least five are in some way Queer, at the last count). One of these is a lovely Iberian boy who for the purposes of this blog we’ll call Fofo, because wordreference tells me that describes him. Anyway, I’ve had a bit of a thing for him for a while – makes a change from the central Europeans– and on Saturday another flatmate of his and Sonic’s invited me round for some drinks and guitar playing. By which I mean listening to others play the guitar, I can’t play it at all. There was quite a crowd there but over the course of the night our numbers dwindled until there were only four of us still up. At this point it was almost five in the morning and the flatmate who had invited me up suggested that rather than face the walk home I sleep in Sonic’s bed, since she’s in her home country until this Friday and her roommate is sleeping with one of their other flatmates just now so the room was completely free. She then went to bed, followed shortly by the girl from the neighbouring flat. Fofo and I said goodnight, he went to his room and I went to Sonic’s, to sleep for a few hours at least before meeting Tigger for lunch.

I didn’t even have the light off before my phone beeped. Here we go, I thought, Fofo wants it in him. (Crude? Me? Never). It was indeed him. This conversation then happened:

Fofo: Good night
Dexxx : Sweet dreams. If your roommate starts talking in his sleep just come through here, the other bed’s empty.
F: Haha he is again snoring but me is in my PJ’s and cozy
D: Fair enough. Night then!
F: U comfortable though?
[he definitely wants it in him, think I]
D: Well it’s weird being in someone else’s bed (no jokes!) and it’s a little cold…
F: Haha it can be weird. I’m sure you can deal well with the cold
D: Well I’ll just have to!
F: Hum don’t be sad about it! I’ll see you tomorrow then?
[might as well be direct]
D: Unless you want to see me just now
F: You are just relentless now are you not?
D: Just being honest. Ball’s in your court
F: Hum fair enough. I’d like to go there but my prude side is still hard to deal with.
[uh-oh, he’s nervous, say something to calm him down a little]
D: I’m not saying anything like that would happen but I do actually quite like you. It’s up to you but decide soon, my phone’s about to die
F: I think I won’t go there for two reasons: you’ve told me you like me and if I went in there it would only be out of a carnal desire. Second: I’m still coming to terms with myself about casual sex. I am sorry if I have hurt or offended you in any way.
D: Don’t be silly, of course you haven’t. Sleep well.

(I’ve never been referred to as a carnal desire before, I think I like the title.) The next day he apologised again for potentially having offended me so I thought, we clearly have to settle this and went round to see him on my way home from a meeting. He somehow managed to say neither what I thought he would say (“I was drunk, ignore it all”) or what I wanted him to say (“Fancy a shag after all?”) but managed to rather eloquently highlight how I managed to shoot myself in the foot. “It’s not that I wouldn’t want to go to bed with you,” he said. “It’s that you said that you like me and I don’t want to mislead you, I think you deserve better than that.”

Well, that’s what I get for being honest I suppose.  I’m not trying to criticise him in the slightest because he was, after all, only doing what he thought was the best thing in the situation and I can sort of see where he was coming from. I think the lesson I’ll have to take from this is to be less forthcoming – or at least, more cautious with it – with people who I would like to get to know as more than a casual random fuck. You live you learn.

On a completely unrelated note, I’m thinking of starting up a new feature called Submissive Sundays; if you feel so inclined submit (see what I did there?) a story or article to do with sex or relationships to tripleXdexxx@gmail.com and we’ll see about getting it posted. It can be random thoughts, something you’ve got strong views on, a funny story to do with your sex life (past or present), or a response to something I’ve written, really anything goes. I already have two submissions and a third one in the pipeline, but if I get a lot of interest I’d like to make it a regular thing.

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  1. #1 by Alan on April 18, 2012 - 3:59 am

    “a third one in the pipeline” – well that’s topped any story I could give you! 😀

  2. #2 by kittymama on April 18, 2012 - 11:34 am

    now if “submissive sunday” was actually about submissive sex stories i could have given you some belters! as for the above post, i don’t think you shot yourself in the foot. i think the guy wanted an ego boost but when it came to the crunch wasn’t ready to follow through. the situation you were in meant you had a finite amount of time to get what you wanted and i have certainly never regreted telling someone i like them! “If you don’t ask, you don’t get”. my granny taught me that. now i wonder where she got it from………..

    • #3 by sexwithdexxx on April 18, 2012 - 9:44 pm

      Feel free to write some submissive sex stories!! I know you have a few 😉

  1. Flashback Friday – Crossdressers in the Cupboard « sexwithdexxx

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