The Alpha Male

God this guy is a prick. Note the present tense.

Although I can be almost certain Alpha will be a prick for the rest of his life, I am also currently involved with him. Writing about a man I'm still intimate with is a first for me. I suppose the reason why Alpha and I are still having relations is because of the fabulous deal (and sex) we have.

When Alpha and I first met, it was our intentions to see one another in more than a physical way. We still maintain some weird semblance of a relationship since the actual dating stopped; it's not traditional by any means. In fact, if I were to bother attempting to explain it, you would undoubtedly be even more confused than you already are.

On our first date, Alpha picked me up in a shiny new sports car. Of course. Alpha had impressed me with his eagerness to hang out and when he showed up, he impressed me even more with his ridiculously hot good looks. Through the course of the Sunday date (which consisted of watching my NFL team lose), he impressed me with his choice in bars. At the second bar, we discovered we shared a common love of green (do you sense a theme here?) and decided in so many words that we’d head back to his place to put on our sweaters.

As we all know, hot men and my nerves and a cold beer – and of course football – make for one drunk little girl. So, about five or so beers into the date, with my green sweater securely buttoned, maybe I was a little impaired. My friend text’d me to ask how the date was going and I was thrilled to respond. “He’s funny, seems intelligent, a fellow toker…oh and he’s smoking ass hot.”

I hit send. Alpha’s phone rang. Not thinking much of it, I sipped my beer.

“Did you just text me?”
“I don’t…” [looking at sent text messages]
“You did.”
“I did.”

I quickly snatched his cell phone and deleted the message but it was a little late. He’d already read my on-the-spot evaluation of how our first date was going. Fabulous.

I laughed and said something like “well, this could’ve been a bit more awkward if I wasn’t enjoying myself.” He agreed and said he was having a good time too. After a few more awkward moments, Alpha stood up and announced (that’s actually just how he always speaks) he was in need of dinner and requested my presence. Knowing my “way to blow it” meter was about full, I told him I’d rather he take me home. When he dropped me off, I fully intended to never hear from him again.

Sure enough, there was a second date. And a third. And a fourth…

After about two months of the fabulous dating and sex, things – of course – took a nasty turn. Dates with Alpha were nowhere near as fun as they used to be and, on one particularly bad night, I think some other guys at the bar talked to me more than Alpha did. I didn’t know what was wrong but I was bummed about it. When I went home for the holiday, we managed to get into a very nasty fight and I was pretty sure things were totally over between us.

What I was most bummed about was the sex. Let God strike me down now if he does not have the most amazing body I have ever seen in my entire life.

A week or so later, Alpha text’d me asking how things were going. I informed him I was totally surprised to hear from him. He said he deeply appreciated my company and, although he thought it quite clear we were incapable of being intimate, he’d like to still be friends.

The truth about what killed our emotional relationship was Alpha had unfortunately exposed himself as tactless, inconsiderate, mildly racist, less than chivalrous and a few other undesirable traits which probably led me to let him know, through subconscious gestures, I was not as head over heels as I originally thought. He was right, we were about as incompatible emotionally as it gets.

He was wrong though, if we couldn’t be intimate, I didn’t see much of a future to our friendship. Later that week, I accepted his invitation to dinner.

Alpha was a different guy. Or the lens through which I viewed Alpha was a different color. He wasn’t inconsiderate…he was a guy. He was my friend. I wasn’t getting special treatment as we were not seeing each other. His behavior, although completely unchanged, now fit our current situation. I don’t know if he picked up on this new fit, but it enabled me to be a lot less nervous around him. I got to say whatever I wanted without much fear of his reaction. If he hated what I had to say, oh well. My good, socially submissive girl behavior was no longer being rewarded with sex so why bother?

Time went by and things were going well. I would venture to say this friendship was becoming one of the better decisions I had made.

Then it started…the teasing. I don’t know who started it but, since Alpha still slightly intimidates me to this day, I doubt I made the first sexual innuendo move. I laughed it off the first few times. Then I called him out on it. “You cannot make jokes which lead me to think about sex with you and then not give me sex.” “The sex was hot. You cannot deny there is sexual tension between us.” “Maybe we should fix that.”

I’m not sure how we ever worked out the details but we are both in quite the predicament. We hang out. When we’re out, we’re friends. I’ve actually gotten to meet his friends (and they seemed equally as confused about whether I was there with him or just there with him). We see each other pretty regularly. But we also see other people. Behind closed doors however, the most amazing sex of my life takes place.

When we were “dating,” I had doubts as to whether Alpha appreciated me as anything more than a cum dumpster. The foreplay was kind of awkward. There was definitely little to no kissing. The actual sex was just as hot as his seven-days-a-week-in-the-gym body. But I wasn’t getting off. Fun, but not fulfilling.

Now that we’re “just friends” the sex is hot from start to finish. While he’s still yet to master the art of not making the first move pretty awkward, it’s fun. I’ve grown accustomed to the fact he’s probably going to initiate sex by reaching over and grabbing my tit while we’re watching TV. We laugh during sex. I’m not as worried about “do I look hot?” as much as I’m focused on how hot I feel. And he’s suddenly considerate…if you catch my drift. If we didn’t enjoy one another physically, we wouldn’t do it. No amount of relationship-obligated sex could produce these simultaneous orgasms. This is making a conscious effort to have good sex regularly with someone who can keep up. (Does that make me an alpha female? Oh darn.)



finishing every fucking time.