I'm getting desperate. Tonight's attempted fuck managed to actually be fucking me when he had his crisis of conscience. It was literally "oh yeah, oh yeah, mmm... oh god what am I doing I can't do this." Which, along with the fact that he talked about his specific psychological hangups in some detail, makes me fairly confident it wasn't an appearance thing, which is good I guess but doesn't make me any more laid.
It was something along the lines of "I'm a nice guy, so I don't do things like this, but I want to be so aggressive, but that's not me, but I just have these urges when I'm by myself but with you actually here it's different because I don't know if I want to actually act out my fantasies," which I actually do sympathize with and I tried to talk over with him, but... ergh, I'm not a traveling psychologist. And if I were I wouldn't accept payment in the form of blue balls.
I think my ego has actually developed to the point where I can almost handle rejection. I mean, I know plenty of people find me attractive, so if some people don't, that's not a reflection on me, it's just life. Some people like Vegemite and some don't, and if a specific person isn't into Vegemite it doesn't mean that Vegemite is bad or they're making a personal attack on Vegemite.
Still, I'm slightly annoyed that he couldn't decide what he wanted first, and then arrange and initiate sex second.
I think I'm gonna try and screw Mr. Neon. We seem to like each other well enough, I'm sure I can get around the no-pheromones thing if I concentrate. "Hey, Neon, would you mind wearing another guy's undershirt on this date? Let him get kinda sweaty in it first. No, no, I'm serious..."