The Scandinavian Diplomat

Alreet, luvvlies. Let me just catch you up a bit if you've not read the last few posts: I have realized/decided that I do not want to be in a relationship with anyone. Some of this has to do with the types of men I've dated, but most of it stems from having realized certain facets of my personality which simply aren't conducive to having a proper relationship with another person.

At the same time, this realization automatically negated certain ideals which no longer make sense in the face of such an epiphany. Therefore, since I no longer seek the perfect man (who doesn't exist, btw -- don't say I never gave you good advice!) I'm now out to seek the perfect sexual experience.

There are rules, of course.

1. No married, separated or otherwise attached men.
2. No one who doesn't absolutely turn me on; wet knicker syndrome is essential for this.
3. No one under the age of 35. No one too much older than 40.
4. No one who isn't totally confident, self-reliant and capable of leading -- anything less means bad sex.
5. No one who insists on being a couple. I am not dating anymore, I am just looking for entertainment.

And now onto the Scandinavian diplomat.

SD is a 39 year old, 6'3, dark blond embassy official for a Scandinavian country. I don't want to list too many details, since he asked me not to. This is someone I have known in passing for awhile now. I met him, and a host of other foreign diplomats, when performing for this country's president about a year and a half ago. Like everyone else, he was dressed in black tie, and Jesus did he look good. Unfortunately, so did his French fiance. We chatted, flirted, and said hello the two or three times we happened to see each other over the next year.

Well. I was hanging round in a pool hall by myself (just practicing shots -- am v good at shooting pool if you don't already know this) as it relaxes me quite a bit, and who should walk up behind me but SD and a mate of his. They were just finishing up on their own table and his mate wound up leaving while SD and I were talking. During the course of conversation, I asked how his fiance was doing, and he said he hadn't a clue, as she'd eloped with her Canadian ski instructor.

SD then asked if I wanted a game, and he offered to give me some pointers. I had to really force myself not to giggle at the offer, because only a real pro would be able to do such a thing, but then I realized this would be a good starting point in terms of, what did I call it? Ah, yes: entertainment. So I told him to rack, and I proceeded to run the table. Poor man never got a chance to shoot. I was feeling a bit sorry him, until the start of the next game, when he managed to run half the table on me. I was impressed, and while this may seem very stupid; if you can keep up with me at pool, wet knicker syndrome ain't all that far away. I do not enjoy being able to do anything better than a man, so when I can, it's always a turnoff -- but in this case, I was getting rather turned on. Unfortunately, I needed to leave after a few games and I didn't have time to get as flirty as I would have liked.

This will be corrected in the very near future, as he's invited me to an embassy dinner next week. The only issue I have is that he's a bit more affectionate than I'd like at this point. For my purposes, I'm more in the market for sex and less in the market for handholding and cuddling -- that's something you do with a boyfriend, which we've already established as being something I don't want. He's got the dominant gene in there, you can see it in his eyes; sex with him would be fabulous. The question is, how many times can you have sex with man before it becomes something more than sex? I need to know that number, cos I'm not interested in surpassing it. I get the feeling he's not looking for the same thing I'm looking for, which makes me feel like maybe I ought to be direct about this. At the same time, he's a man, and all sex is pretty much good sex to men, so I don't reckon it matters too much.

What do y'all think? Should I tell him what I don't want?

xx Isabella