Wannabe Starlets

When you are dating a Hollywood director, being out in public with them is like attracting bees to honey. You can’t go anywhere without some little wannabe starlet wanting to be discovered.

We were at the Melrose Farmers Market, at a cute hipster coffee joint called Alfreds that has antlers on the A. Waiting on my vanilla cappuccino, with him in tow and his adorable poodle whom I adore….a handful of women keep doing sideways glances. They don’t care that he is double my age. They are probably wondering who I am and how do they get past me to him.

He seems to not notice, like it’s a typical weekend. I should be jealous because these women are gorgeous but I’m amused. I find it funny that they are tripping over themselves to catch his attention. As if the one glance over in their direction would catapult them to Academy Award stardom. Who knows, it could happen.

But he is the ultimate gentleman. Only focused on me.

I’m a lucky girl…

Rogue Rose

Porn Pitch

Him: “You should be in movies.”

Me: “Yea right.”

Him: “I’m serious. You have a very sensual side to you. It’s hot.”

Me: “Thank you.”

Him: “Besides curvy MILFs are a big hit right now.”

This was my conversation over a glass of house chardonnay. The man was an English porn financier. Our date went from small talk to pitching me to be in his latest movie. Basically telling me I could easily clear $12,000 a week.

Tempting. Very tempting but no.

Rogue Rose

Art of Kissing

I’m a kissing fool. Love to kiss. Everyone says they are a good kisser because they haven’t received any complaints. But let me tell you, there is a lot of bad kissers out there. I understand, to each their own, but there are some universal no-nos in the art of kissing.

How to be a masterful kisser:

Step One: clean mouth and breath. This does not mean you should bring your toothbrush on a date but if your date isn’t munching on garlic or onions….you shouldn’t either.

Step two: nobody wants to feel your tongue down their esophagus. My tonsils were removed as a young child, but that doesn’t mean I want you to examine my mouth like a dentist. Use of a light tongue is far more desirable.

Step three: don’t make baby noises. This is such a turn-off. I dated a guy who would sound like an animated baby suckling on a pacifier while kissing. Gross! Light moaning….okay.

Step four: don’t lick the face. I’ve lightly touched my tongue to my mates lips, but I’ve never just tongued the whole face. That is not sexy.

Step five: nibbling is always a great thing. Chewing and biting hurts and breaks down tissue.

Step six: saliva shouldn’t be dripping down your face or your mates. Please try to control your drool.

Step seven: don’t be afraid to use your hands to cradle your mates face or hold them close. If you are rigid, how can you melt into each other?

On a side note, I understand when you are in the heat of the moment and your kissing turns into a full on makeout sesh. Please do not stick your tongue down your mates ears and bathe their eardrums. Those in water sports try to avoid swimmers ear, I prefer to not receive it either by making out. It’s gross and feels like a wet Willy. Just please stop.

Rogue Rose

Separated by Sex

My date was a man whose status was labeled separated. That was my first mistake. It’s the unknown of is he getting a divorce or is he going back to his wife. He was a nice guy nevertheless.

He picked me from my house in a beautiful black Mercedes. It was quite plush. We drove to Doheny State Beach and he said we were going to watch firework dancers. They dance with a long string of fireworks and it’s electricifying. I believe it’s illegal but it is still mesmerizing.

He had everything planned out. He grabbed a few blankets from the trunk and a bottle of champagne (another illegal thing on the beach) and some glasses. This man came prepared for us to basically get cited. Alright…well when in Rome I suppose.

So we find a spot on the beach. It’s already dark out and it’s pretty chilly. Divers are in the water hunting for spiny lobster.

The firework show is amateur hour but wonderful just the same. The conversation is flowing well. It’s all going very swimmingly.

And then the waterworks start. Nope not rain. But Niagara of Tears. This man broke down and became the most vulnerable crushed man I’ve ever seen. He missed his wife and children. He exclaimed he only ever wanted to be married to her. He curled up into a fetal position on the blanket and I stroked his bald head as he continued to sob.

I felt bad for him but it was confirmation to me why I don’t date men who are only separated. Plus I’m stuck out there with him because he drove.

Shortly after the waterfall stopped, a cop started to roll through. I’ve never seen a man gain his composure so quickly, leap up, grab everything and hightail it to the car. He even had the gumption to go talk to the police officer about the beautiful weather we were having.

We get in the car. I’m still a little sandy and he turns to me and says:

him: “Wanna have sex?”

Yea….no thank you.

Rogue Rose

It’s Complicated

Blind dates are funny. You never know what is going to happen. You are told they are handsome. You are told their profession. But some things are left out for you to discover. It’s like a gift that you get to unwrap slowly. Peeling back the wrapping paper. Sometimes it’s like an onion and not a gift at all.

It’s was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and I was meeting a handsome man for a hike. I enjoy being out in nature and this seemed right up my alley.

He was tall. Much taller than me. Gentle eyes, warm smile. Blonde. Very good looking. And he kissed me. I melted.

After our little hike, he asked if I wanted to come over to use his home gym. We could get all sweaty at his place. Perhaps another day. I don’t want to appear too easy.

him: “Just let me know when and I’ll let the Mrs know.”

Wait! What?!

me: “You are married?”

him: “It’s complicated but yes.”

me: “Separated?”

him: “Open marriage.”

me: “And she is aware of this?”

him: “Yes. Sometimes she watches.”

Oh my. This isn’t what I was expecting. This wasn’t a gift….it was an onion. A very complicated onion.

Rogue Rose

Tickle Me No

Was meeting an elderly gentleman over coffee at my local Starbucks. When I mean elderly, I’m referring to 20+ years older than me. He seemed nice via text, so why not see if there is any chemistry.

So we instantly recognize each other, and I order my regular iced vanilla chai latte that basically tastes like Christmas in a cup. We find an open table and start the courtship. Haha!

him: Are you ticklish?

me: Yes.

him: Where?

me: Why?

He proceeds to open up his phone to YouTube to show me tickle porn. He informs me he just got into this and it’s a huge turn-on for him. He then tells me the tickler tickles the ticklee until she soaks her panties in urine.

So you can imagine the look on my face at this point. I didn’t know this was a thing, nor was I expecting this over a cup of tea. Not that I am one to judge. It is just not for me.

At this point in the conversation, he can see the expression plastered on my face and tries Plan B. Yoda impersonations. Yes…the beloved green character from Star Wars. I’m as nerdy as the next person, maybe even a little more….but this isn’t going to get my panties wet.

So I used my mind tricks and Jedi’d outta there.

Rogue Rose

Lackluster Love

Being a single mom today is not easy especially dating. Let me tell you, I am an attractive broad with a body somewhere between Kim Kardashian and Mama June before she dropped 34 dress sizes. A natural redhead and a classic Dita Von Teese look, I’m quite the catch.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the typical South Orange County twit that graces your televisions on some bogus housewife show. I’m a real, homegrown, barely educated, blow-job giving woman with tits for days. Natural tits.

And I’ve dated everyone. Well, maybe not your husband, but certainly your brother and possibly your father. And maybe your sister too.

You see, this isn’t exactly how I envisioned my life at forever 39. I was married with three kids. Good kids. Beautiful kids. Lousy husband. So-called lousy husband decided he wanted an online social life and joined twitter. He fell in love in 140 characters or less. To her, whom shall forever be nameless, but lovingly referred to as Mrs Fugly. Yes, I used the title Mrs. She was married too, with children no less. They now live a miserable life together and he complains about her children. Ha! Good riddance.

So here I am dating again and what a trip it is. From an award-winning director to a twenty-one year old who still has spots on his face. I’ve been there and done that. Well, maybe not “done” that. I’m not easy….okay, maybe a little bit. I like sex. There I said it. Sex. Its fun, especially when I’m on top. On top of the situation and on top of the man.

So to kick-start this blog, I’ll tell you one of my dating adventures. Stop me if you have heard this one: a woman walks into a restaurant, meets a handsome man with a good reputable standing career (which I will not state because I’m not one to air dirty laundry), who use to play college ball. Tall, broad shoulders, pouty lips to boot. Small talk is going well, flirty hair tousle and he is staring at my breasts because they are practically grazing the table and it begins.

him: “I have a certain lifestyle.”

me: “Oh…”

him: “Yes, so from now on you are going to call me Master and I’m going to call you Slave. Got that?”

me: “Yea, that’s cute. You serious?”

him: “Slave, I’m thirsty. Hand me my glass of water.”

me: “Your water is right in front of you.”

him: “You didn’t call me Master. You will be punished next time.”

me: “Okay, Master, your glass of water is in front of you. Since you invited me to dinner, you are paying for dinner. Waiter, check please. I’m out.”

 

Rogue Rose