Something has been bothing me since SFPlayboy came down to visit.

I realized that I feel... not insulted, but almost embarrassed.

Close enough to embarrassment to bother.

I mean, really, scenario presents itself: hot, able-bodied, sexually active male temporarily sharing living quarters (and bed) with young, sexually active female fighting off the potential throes of reboundery.

That should've been a gimme.

But he couldn't.

It wasn't even that he was respecting my wishes to remain celibate. He tried. He tried repeatedly, and I smacked him down each time.

He was unsuccessful. He had slept with me before, knew what I was like (though I know I have noticiably changed), had some idea of my buttons.

And he couldn't do it. He couldn't get in my head and, therefore, get in my pants.

Game failure.

How embarrassing. For me.

Which might sound odd. Might sound really odd.

A year ago, I was a completely different person. And snagging SFPlayboy, an attractive and intelligent male with some grasp of game, was a decided highlight, though, admittedly, I had many highlights during that time.

He was what I could catch. He was where I was at, where my knowledge and experience was at. Like to like. Screening processes, shit tests, they were at a level where he could pass them, where his various proofs met my standards, enough to move him from a "hey, you're hot, you'll do for tonight" to a "hey, you're hot, you're intelligent, but I would never date you, so let's be lovers".

And he's a good guy, a fun companion. I enjoy spending time with him, enjoy his intelligence, his wicked vocabulary is always educational, as well as his knowledge of nutrition and the human body. He doesn't care that I go into predator mode, doesn't find it freaky that sometimes I just feel like manipulating others, doing a social dance, doesn't care that I can drop in and out of roles without thought. He likes it, it seems. Possibly finds it admirable.

Possibly.

But in the last year, things have changed. I have changed. I've met so many people, done so many things that I never expected to do, only dreamed of... that he no longer passes all my filters.

If I met him today, he might not even be a one-night stand.

Actually, if I met him today, he would not be a one-nighter. I wouldn't sleep with him at all.

It's embarrassing to me that I took up with a male that can't play the game well enough to get me to sleep with him when we're sharing the same bed. It's embarrassing how easily I socially dominated him all weekend, how easy it was to smack him down when he started being sullen. He failed, and continued to fail. He let me play with him, manipulate him, mess with him.

And he couldn't step up.

Which reflects my desirability.

Hence the embarrassment and discomfort.

I like that I was able to step up, that I had changed so much that I took this man who normally dominated all of our interactions and switched roles on him. It shows that I'm making progress, shows I'm learning more, growing more, being more.

It also shows that I'm moving out of my already scant dating/sex pool and into another area entirely, where men I find suitable are even more rare than before.

And that bothers me as well.

But there's nothing I can do. I have the knowledge now, the experience. That's not going to go away without some physical head trauma.

I have a date this weekend, with some guy that used to be built along the lines of Vin Diesel, then had a back injury that threw him out of that physical loop for a couple years and is now coming back to that shape again. He's a decently intelligent fellow, a writer, well-employed, dominant.

And I'm almost dreading it. Meeting this man, putting him through the usual hoops, finding he's lacking, and tossing him back. I don't want this rubbed in my face that I've, once more, pushed myself farther into limiting my dating pool through having too high expectations built by experience and education of what I find desirable.