Saturday, 31 October 2009

"I cannot reassure you any further"

So it's not been 48 hours since the heated evening with Quiet boy and already I am getting calls and emails stating his worry that I will eventually want commitment.
It's driving me a little mad. In the words of The Smiths; I am human and I need to be loved. We are meant to meet up on Tuesday but at this rate I can's see this happening.
I've said I am willing to try something casual without commitment nor exclusivity and take it from there, and pointed out that it's unattractive enough trying to reassure a partner that you have strong amourous feelings towards them, and it is becoming just as unappealing and frankly off-putting to reassure a-not-yet-nor-ever-if-this-carries-on partner that you won't propose four weeks down the line.
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Why I didn't used to like blow jobs?

I was not a fan of blow jobs for a number of years and here are a couple of incidents that may explain why:
No 1
Aged 16/17. I gave a bloke I really liked a blow job (at this age, any boy one fancied came with a comparable Romeo and Juliet intensity), I obviously, or maybe not obviously, swallowed, took a swig of drink, he looked at me, went to kiss me, hesitated and then kissed my forehead. Thus my pet hate was conceived.
No 2
Aged 18. My boyfriend and I had a long-running bet, at the end of a very long day and even longer evening, I lost. His reward was anything he wanted, his request, a blow job. I had put away at least two bottles of wine earlier not to mention the entire salad cart from a then-prestigious Harvester.
I promised to deliver in the morning, he wasn't having any of that. Can you guess what happened next?
Half-way through my drunken gobble his pelvis thrust a little too hard and I vomited everywhere. It's quite easy to recall the vision of previously digested red wine, dinner, dessert and mandatory sweetcorn scattered all over the man you love and his bed.
Him mum then returned to find me half naked, crying, wrapped up in a sheet and her son in the shower. I wonder if she actually knows what happened before her return that night.
No 3
Aged 20. I explained to a new lover I wasn't comfortable giving head, he took this to be a challenge.
The idea of him receiving a blow job became all-consuming, he daily goal was thinking up ideas of what he could do to or for me that I would deem worthy enough to reciprocate with a blow job.
He got one, begrudgingly, but it wasn't fun.
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Friday, 30 October 2009

No hosiery, hoes

I am wearing tights for the first time this autumn/winter.
It has reminded me of this time last year when on a fourth/fifth date, the chap in question commented, "I really didn't think you liked me and I certainly didn't expect to wake up in bed with you". I coyly asked why? He said if a woman wears tights, men don't expect to get laid.
This made me laugh. A lot.
Do men really think like this? She's wearing tights - no sex for me?
I'm the first to admit I prefer the feeling of stockings and suspenders but they have their time and place. Stockings together with winter and short skirts are not always the best combination. I've now changed out of my tights into some tights-that-look-like-stockings and about to go out for the evening.
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Definitely maybe

And just when I thought my heart, head and loins couldn't be any more confused:
In a north London warm and cosy pub Quiet boy and I discussed in detail what if scenarios, after an hour or so, I pointed out that the longer we talk about six days time, six weeks time, six months time, we weren't concentrating on nor enjoying the now.
So considerably more succinct than my wants and needs, Quiet boy submitted his demands:
- Spend time together
- Be close
- Be intimate
- Engage in sexual activity
- No commitment
Talk about wanting your cake and eating it. I cross referenced his wants with mine. I challenged him to see if he a) meant what he said and b) wasn't just saying what he thought I would want to hear.
At dinner light-hearted conversation evolved into sexual bantering and then in turn became whisperings of what we could do should we not overlooked by other patrons, waiting staff and what looked like a complex CCTV system. My knickers were past damp, they were sticky, my clit throbbing. He couldn't hide his erection through his taut jeans, I slowly allowed my hands to casually pass his groin, his hardness was extremely alluring.
We spoke frankly about what we had enjoyed before, emotionally and sexually. Sex toys and my recent fetish night. I asked if he would be interested in going to a fetish night together and it was certainly amongst his fanatasies - score! This is why I love spending time with him, I can be myself without prejudice.
He is one of those men who has to think out loud. Sometimes infuriating, sometimes insightful. Going back to his list, I explained that no commitment means no exclusivity, he was puzzled that I could deal with no commitment although his practical arrogance on the subject was near unsavoury.
The discussion was left unresolved.
The more I thought about it, the more attractive it seemed, if we did start afresh we could slowly get to know each other again, I could still see other people until we were sure, but would I get hurt? Definitely maybe.
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Thursday, 29 October 2009

Suck my kiss

I am not generally a fan of lipstick. Lipstick is good in theory though not always in practice and sometimes it doesn't even taste good! When you're going to spend the night sucking face neither you nor your kissing partner should end up looking like the Joker.
Recently however, I have rediscovered the joys of deep luscious lips. When I wear lipstick I get a better response, my friend commented that this may have more to do with my smile, but if so, it's because my smile is now tongue-deep in scarlet.
I recalled a lecture from years ago concentrating on body language and something to do with a woman's red lips subconsciously remind men of an engorged labia.
My Messy Bedroom goes one step further (and backward historically) stating that in ancient Rome, prostitutes painted their mouths red to indicate that oral sex was on their will-do list.
When applying make-up now it's near-impossible to think about my appearance without considering what I may be trying to say sexually... Let's be honest, I want my face to say "I want to be fucked" and not "fuck me", they may sound similar but there are subtle differences.
Not only can lipstick be impractical (at times) an eco-campaign highlighted how bad cheap lipstick can be, since then, it's red beeswax lippie all the way.
Kiss kiss.
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How to fuck people and alienate friends?

Let's skip past the niceties, family updates and straight to the main course:

Friend: ...so who are you fucking nowadays?

Me: No-one..

Friend: Really? If you weren't getting any, you would have dry-humped the waiter by now.

Me: A little harsh, but fair. Let's just say no-one special.

Friend: Dish..

Me: Like I said, no-one special.

Friend: Dish the dirt! Tall? Short? Inside leg?

Me: I've got a casual thing with a 25 year old...

Friend: What the fuck Thirty?

Me: What?

Friend: Are you never going to stop fucking about?

(This is why I don't confide in my friends)

Me: Don't...

Friend: What? You're no longer a teenager.

Me: One minute you want to know whose dick I am sucking, the next berating me for that very same sucked dick?

(She's not a fan of cock or dick as words)

Friend: I thought you were looking for something for serious.

Me: If serious happens, great, but it has to be the right person. Until then I'm having great sex, I'm happy.

Friend: Happy?

Me: I'm dating, but nothing has come of that recently. I want chemistry, I don't want to sit in a pub or coffee place trying to persuade some arse that my aspirations fit in with his life. I want to feel it in my loins. Nine times out of ten, I am repeating the same old shit, for what? To have them act disinterested all night then try and semi-kiss, semi-grope me at the end of it. No thanks.

Friend: And you have chemistry with this 25 year old?

Me: Look - this bloke is gorgeous and funny, he tells me how gorgeous I am, how I make him feel, how good my body looks when I ride him. We fuck like he's never fucked before. You've forgotten what it's like...

Friend: What what is like? Meaningless sex? That I remember.

Me: No, to be single. You were more promiscuous than I ever was, and stupidly so, you've forgotten how many times you used to pick men up, take them home then throw them away...

Friend: I was young then...

Me: Well don't judge me now. I am who I am, I fuck who I want to fuck.

Friend: I just wish you had some self-respect...

(This is probably where I should have changed the subject)

Me: I do have self-respect.

Friend: Do you? Really?

Me: This isn't some drunken one-night-stand, this is a itch I need to be scratched. He makes me feel good about myself, so I can keep my self-respect, so the next time I am horny in a pub somewhere I don't feel the need to go home with some drunken idiot, you're right, I'm not a teenager. When I go on dates, I don't come across as desperate because you know what? I'm not. Do you think I want what you have?

(Rant over)

Friend: Yeah, I think you're jealous...

Me: I'm not going to settle...

Friend: And you think I have?

Me: You're 'happy' aren't you...?

Friend: Of course...

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Wednesday, 28 October 2009

Lost in translation

Earlier I wanted to find out what 'I am a minx' in French was, I trundled down to Google translate, and it provided me with 'Je suis une garce'.
Just to double check what 'Je suis une garce' meant, I asked for Google to translate it back to which I was furnished with 'I am a bitch'.
Minx, hussy, trollop, wench - yes. Bitch - not the message I wanted to convey. At all.
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Out of ten

There is no mistake Jason is a fine specimen of man. He is attractive, intelligent, interesting and a libido to match my own.
He's not perfect though, and now that the post-orgasmic glow is subsiding his flaws are more obvious: He doesn't kiss me after my mouth has been anywhere near his cock. Is this an intimacy issue, is it him, what? A personal pet hate of mine. He is a passive lover, when told what to do - amazing, when left to his own devices - not so.
No doubt he boosts my ego and my sexual frustration dissipates with him to thank. I know it's not going anywhere and maybe I'm a too long in the tooth to have not even the hope of light at the end of the tunnel.
I'm not sure I want to be doing the teaching anymore, I still want to be doing the learning.
I think this may be a case of absence making the heart grow fonder. When I don't see him for long stretches of time, I strongly fantasise about him... but I think I could do without the reality.
We'll see.
UPDATE
Just as I posted this, he sent me the cutest email. God, I am so easy...
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Disclaimer

I may not always make reference to condoms but please do assume that I always practice safe sex unless I specifically mention albeit with my head held in shame that I haven't. That post will be littered with me kicking myself.

Condoms are a must.

It's been a long time since I have been a committed relationship that allowed the freedom of condom-free sex, even with Mr Maybe Next Time we used condoms for at least the first fourteen/fifteen months.

Now, I would have to be in a committed loving relationship, with us both being deemed clean by the NHS to even contemplate not using condoms, not to mention the birth control aspect as I am not currently on the pill.

Selfless vs. Selfish

Selfless lovers are the way forward and if only selfish lovers realised that by being selfless in bed could be the ultimate selfish act.

Recently a friend showed an interest in red wine, yet aware of his ineptitude for the subject. I suggested that choose one region such as Bordeaux or Rioja and discover everything he could about that region "be a Bordeaux buff" and start from there.

Pussy boy did just that with his sexual prowess.

Looking back over this year by far the best lover (technically) I had was without a doubt Pussy boy. He was enthusiastic even when we fucked in the middle of the night, post slumber and half sleepy, and he made it all about my orgasm, I doubt I've had so many orgasms in such a short space of time.

He would start with kissing, stroking and then head straight for cunnilingus; he was the going down town master. Even as I came to orgasm, he would keep going to see if there was a second orgasm hiding around the corner, I would always have to ask him to stop and his head would pop up like a puppy, ears pricked, massive smile of his face, licking his lips.

And after that? I was putty in his hands, my enthusiasm mirrored his own. I wanted to please him, I wanted him to feel the level of pleasure and intensity he had bestowed on me. I would do anything he asked.

However, the one time I didn't want him to go down on me (a wax was due the next morning) he was a lost puppy, his sexual armour dented.

He may have held me arms length emotionally but boy he knew how to use his tongue.

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Tuesday, 27 October 2009

Mischievous Monday

Seeing Jason excites me, not romantically but I am aware that he stirs my loins more than he should. I was determined to have an evening full of tease and he didn't disappoint.
I joked that it had been too long since we saw each other last, and that he was to be punished for allowing such a time lapse, he tried to lift my dress, I stopped him, saying he was not yet deserving of the goods!
His erection was firm and trying to push through his trousers, his smile mischievous, he said he wanted me, "you'll have to wait" was my reply. We kissed intensely, fast and hard, soft and slow then hard again.
I unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, kissing and licking his nipples, undid his belt and asked him how he intended to get back in my good books, he agreed that he had been bad and he would make it right. Soon enough, he was naked in front of me. Me fully dressed in a cocktail dress, stockings, suspenders, lacy bra and knickers.
I was so turned on, he was naked standing in front of me, his erection red and hard. He went to remove my dress, I said he could if he behaved. I lubed my breasts (cherry lube doesn't taste half bad!), and wanked him with them, I thought he was going to come there and then, when I slowed down it seemed to arouse him more.
He laid me down, spooned me and played with my clitoris, I was so wet, just as I was about to come I asked him to fuck me. I was tempted to come in his hand, but was aware that his throbbing cock was there. He asked how I would like him to fuck me.
"Either you on the sofa, with me straddl..."
"Done, I want you straddling me, I don't want any other suggestions..."
That was easy! I like the way he is so open to new ideas and happy to please. With us both so turned on, he felt great in me. I think I have not just found my mojo* but used and abused it!
I straddled him, just the widening of my legs increased my arousal, as he penetrated me - I gasped - it felt so good. I love being on top, I fucked him hard and then slowed down and then hard again, I could have gone on for hours it felt that good.
We both crashed on the bed. I find pillow talk with him so easy. It's very open and he notices the small things i.e. my hair is different or new stockings etc.
A while later, I lay on top of him, kissing him while allowing my body to move slowly up and down his torso, as I felt him getting hard again, his tongue was harder and stronger in my mouth. I reached down and wanked him hard as I whispered how I wanted his cock, how it made me feel, how he felt in my hand... He asked again how he should fuck me. Doggy! And I specifically requested that he fuck me, really hard, he obliged, a little hair pulling, I came loud and hard simultaneously with him. He makes the most delicious noises as we fuck and especially as he is near to ejaculation.
I'm not sure if it is the age gap (he is five years my junior) or he's naturally more passive but I am certainly in charge and it works on a casual level. I am thinking that maybe I should be more prescriptive or instructive with what I want him to do, he's eager enough.
*I had been thinking about how to get back my on-top-mojo and realised that my bed is too soft for the control needed. All week I have wanted to try out the sofa - and my - it was fucking great or should that be great for fucking?
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Go ahead, crush my heart

Quiet boy wants to meet up to discuss us. Rather than say "here is my heart, go ahead, crush it", I have been thinking:
Dear Quiet boy,
Please seriously consider what you want, you are not going to walk back into my life or my bed where you left it. If you want to pursue any kind of relationship, casual or otherwise, you will need to start at the beginning at step one; wooing and courting.
A fresh start
I feel that I know you well enough to want to spend more time with you, I'm not saying that we go straight to girlfriend & boyfriend, without passing go, I'm not even saying exclusivity to begin with. I am suggesting we spend time together and allow the relationship to grow and evolve perhaps without disintegrating at the first hurdle.
Friendship
Our friendship is invaluable to me, but for as long as it is on an equal footing. Chemistry aside, we have a connection past the 'norm', we: can deal with the serious subjects with compassion, understanding and tenderness; laugh; cry; spend endless time together without friction; be romantic; play on the swings; enjoy highs and support lows.
Relationship
However you wish to label it, it will be a relationship. If you don't want a relationship, don't instigate one. Don't be romantic or delusional, you know my strengths and flaws, I can be loving and passionate but with that comes a fiery side.
Emotionally and mentally
You are amongst my most trusted friends, for good reason, I want to share my experiences with you, both good and bad. I'm not sure why you feel under pressure to be 'happy' all the time, because I certainly don't expect that.
You have an idea of expectations that are not or can not be a reality, it would be impossible to sustain what you think a relationship should be. My relationship experience has taught me a great deal, but that doesn't mean I have all the answers. I am open to discussion, growth, empathy and understanding.
The only thing I ask for is communication and to be included, not discarded.
There will be good days and hopefully not many bad days. You sporadically frustrate me, as I am sure that I annoy you at times. That's normal!
As you know my strengths, weaknesses and quirks, I know yours and accept them unconditionally.
Can you say the same? You cannot project your intimidations, inferiority complex and insecurities on the relationship nor me. What about your previous [in your words] 'hollow apologies', you've said you would act the same again?
Sexually
I am a very sexual person, deal with it, you're quite happy to reap the benefits as and when they suit you, just beware that is a two-way street. I'm not however going to settle for any sex - I can and do have sex elsewhere, and suggest that if only sex is what you want you find it some other place than here.
I want a sexual relationship that can grow and develop, fantasies discussed and perhaps then acted upon. Sex and relationships can go in hand very successfully. We have from the off always had great chemistry and sex, with you, I have been on the receiving end of intense emotionally-driven orgasms and long may that continue...
Love
Are you capable of love? You know I have in the past felt a great deal for you. If you try and control how I feel, like before, this won't work. Things need to be balanced with an equal respect.
In summary
Don't settle for me because a) in your words you don't want someone else to have me b) in your words you're worried you won't meet someone like me again and c) because you are horny.
Yours, maybe,
Thirty xx
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Monday, 26 October 2009

Worth the toyboy wait?

It's been nearly a fortnight since I have a) had sex and b) seen Jason. Coincidence?
I am seeing him tonight which is over a week later that I had anticipated, although cheeky, arousing and hot and heavy emails have been flying back and forth:
From: Jason To: 30-F-London I wonder if I'm going to get the slow and sensual Thirty, or the 'fuck me now' wants it hard and rough Thirty... Either way, I'm excited!
From: 30-F-London To: Jason
Sometimes I prefer slower and softer - before I didn't want to rush, I wanted to saviour your erection to its fullest, although I was so turned on, it took an incredible amount of self control not to have you fuck me on sight.
From: Jason To: 30-F-London
I must admit, I thoroughly loved our slower session. When you calmed me down, took my cock in your lubed hands and gently wanked me between your tits, it felt fantastic...
I can hardly wait to see him, I'm moist just thinking about what I have in store for our time together this evening although I can't promise I will be able to control myself.
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The One

I love Peep Show, sadly the most recent series - series six - has come to a close. I think worryingly I can relate to both protagonists Jeremy and Mark, worryingly as their thoughts are pretty despicable.
Jeremy less so but 'this could be the one, she could be the one' of David Mitchell's character rings all too true.
Under my sexual bravado, I am too much of a romantic perhaps, I see the best in men with a touch of hesitation, when I meet someone I like, I can often mix along with the sexual fantasies the potential home-making fantasies.
On a not completely unrelated subject - I find myself enamoured with David Mitchell - maybe that has something to do with currently listening to his dulcet tones on the BBC Radio 4's The Unbelievable Truth, I do find intelligent men very attractive.
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Risks

A friend sent this to me:
Risks
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out to another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your dreams, ideas before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken, because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, and is nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow, but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love, live.
Chained by their certitudes, they are a slave: they have forfeited their freedom.
Only a person who risks is truly free.
– Anonymous
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SMS Update

Why is it the one you want to text doesn't and vice versa!?
After Friday he said he would text and he did, he said he would call 'some time' and he has already - completely out of character. What now? He wants to meet to discuss 'us', I suggested he thinks carefully with his head, not his dick.
I sent a 'Had a great night text blah blah blah' text, he had a fun night too apparently, but no mention of a repeat.
What does that mean? Well I'm too tired to think about either in too much detail.
Nighty night xx
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Sunday, 25 October 2009

The giant vagina

Today was going to be a productive day, but alas a date with google reader has put a dampener in those plans... The paranoia of the 30 year old bucket was revisited, courtesy of Plenty More Fish out of Water and his saucy shenanigans.
I've located the love eggs and like a good gym membership: a month of avid use, followed by collecting dust, this afternoon they have been given a polish, lubed up and inserted.
Here's to having a 29-year-old vagina!
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As chat up lines go...

Last week I was approached with a chat up line.
It's been a long time since the good ol' chat up line has been used as an opening gambit, he (tall, dark with a mischievous grin) asked: "Is a good sense of humour really the way to a woman's heart?", "No, but it is a ticket to her knickers" I responded (with my own cheeky smile).
Unfortunately he had no sense of humour to speak of.
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Compromise - part three

The Test
Just as I was feeling emotionally invincible, the ultimate compromise test winded me. Quiet boy wants to give it another go, saying he's missed me, blah blah blah. Before even giving it the time I thought it could have deserved, he was already handing out his rules; he doesn't want to spend time with my friends nor meet my family; if he wants out in one month's time, he can go quietly and so on.
What bollocks!
What do I want? I think it's probably too late to salvage any form of relationship. I slept well, woke up the next day and didn't have the anxiety I would have had say even a month or so ago.
Although I've repeatedly dreamt of the scenario, where he comes to me, stating that he wanted to share his life with me but inevitably in my dream he didn't ruin it minutes later.
He said that he was intimidated by my sexual openness and hunger, I explained that that this would not change, if anything my sexual desires are increasing with age. I have a high libido and a curiosity that needs to be satisfied not suffocated.
After sexual discontent with Mr Maybe Next Time, I felt proportionately more happy with Quiet boy but at times I felt I had to ask for sex, and was refused, the sexual rejection - a perfect example of what I would not settle for or with ever again.
I ended the conversation by getting him to ejaculate and left it at that.
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Compromise - part two

Expert advice on how to get and keep a man - from Belle de Jour - below is an extract, the entire article is a good read:
"Lesson 4 Take no crap
...These days, if I got the needy line for calling after two days, I would answer with, “This is not needy, this is what boyfriends and girlfriends do. If you think this is needy, you have some things to figure out. Call me when you get through with that.” If you don’t draw the line, people will push it further and further.
[Lesson] 5 The secret to great sex is ... enthusiasm
No window-dressing in the world could possibly make up for the fact that when you are in bed with a man, the thing he wants most is to imagine he’s rocking your world to its very foundation, and you don’t do that with red lacy briefs and porn acting. You do that by genuinely forgetting about the rest of the world for a bit and living in the moment..."
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Compromise - part one

Reading Moxie's blog post - When did women start settling for less? I was feeling strong on how I have developed in the last fifteen years of relationships, how I felt I no longer did or would settle - it was mentally empowering.
In the past I would always put my feelings second and somehow justify how I was treated, I would make excuses for someone else's behaviour. Since Mr Maybe Next Time I am less likely to settle although there have of course been exceptions - I am a sucker for a handsome face, long legs and the right smile.
Asking the question "When did women start settling for less?" again, I think more importantly is why do women (and men) settle for less? Personally I meet less men I have instant breathtaking chemistry with, therefore I am more likely to engage in a light-hearted fling, to get to know them than I would have a decade ago, or maybe simply realism has replaced optimism. The men I meet also have a stronger grasp of their ideal next big relationship and the level they are willing to give and take. Amongst my friends I see more and more, both male and female, settle for Mr/Miss Right Now than hold out for Mr/Miss Right.
For a fling I have a lot more tolerance and a casual approach. For a committed relationship, the older I get, the less willing I am to compromise but I can usually tell swiftly if there is scope and when to leave it be.
Flings
No rules, no expectations. I like to be with a man without direction, to enjoy the time together but also to see him in his natural habitat. Rather than set down rules, wants and likes I prefer to leave a man to his own devices and discovery.
Longer-term relationships
In the beginning the above no rules and expectations apply. Once I feel that the relationship has a future and the necessary passion, I am keen to state what I want and what I will and won't accept, what I expect and what I will give. I don't like to give exclusivity too early, not because of my general promiscuity (I'm loyal when I want to be) but because it gives a premature romantic notion and unreal bonding.
Although I know that if I met the right person I could give to them my heart foolishly, hence certain defence barriers in place.
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Saturday, 24 October 2009

A smidge of naughtiness

Tonight I had a date with a a lovely man that I will refer to as Christopher Robin. He was sweet, good looking, funny with a smidge of naughtiness.
We met up and after two seconds of awkwardness spent the next four hours laughing, flirting and sharing anecdotes. I like him, I like him a lot, he is one of the nicest men I have met in a long time. I was a little distracted by Friday night's festivities - more about that later - but an all round good date.
As he walked me to the tube station, I became nervous about a potential embrace, I shouldn't have as he politely kissed my cheek good night. I was so disappointed. Was that a brush off?
On my way home I replied to a friend's enquiring text - "Great date - but no kiss". He stated that not everyone is a uncontrollable passionate nymph as myself - to which he had a point.
I want to see him again.
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Phone sex

Him: I miss you.
Me: No you don't. You're horny, in fact you're a horn dog.
Him: Maybe...
Me: Definitely...
Him: I...
Me: You started it.
Him: No, you started it with your dress.
Me: My dress was respectable enough, it went down to my knee.
Him: Hmmmm... I should have chased after you.
Me: Why didn't you?
Him: I was worried that you had drunk too much
Me: I hadn't. I know you were turned on much earlier...
Him: How?
Me: You fidget when you have an erection, it's like your jeans can't control it. Are you hard now?
Him: Yeah
Me: How hard?
Him: Painfully
Me: Are you playing with yourself?
Him: Yeah, are you?
Me: No. I'm sopping wet and my clit is throbbing but not yet. You make me so wet, I'm drenched. If I try and play with myself now I may lose a hand... Do you wish it was my hand on your cock?
Him: Of course.. I have so much to say to you...
Me: Say it then.
Him: I can't, everyone else is in bed...
Me: Do you want me to say it for you?
Him: Yes please
Me: If I were with you now, would you be stroking me?
Him: Yes
Me: Would my bra be off and you kissing my nipples?
Him: Yes, very much so...
Me: Are you reminded of my soft skin, smell and taste? Are you thinking of how you would make me come with your hands, tongue and cock.
Him: Definitely
Me: Would you take me doggy style, spanking me at sporadic intervals, with each spank you could feel my vaginal walls tighten around your hard cock?
Him: *small moans*
Me: I want to hear you say my name as you come...
Him: You wish is my command. Are you playing with yourself yet?
Me: No. This is about you, your cock, your hard cock.. [I repeat his name over and over again]. I want to take your cock in my hand and wank you until you come all over my breasts [I repeat his name again over and over] I want you, I want you to fuck me, I want to feel you inside of me...
*small moans, [my name], deep breaths, silence*
Me: Did you come?
Him: Mmmmm
Me: Good night then, sleep tight.
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Friday, 23 October 2009

Recovering

A friend is determined that her partner is commitment phobic after a string of game playing. After looking for evidence and signifying features I have something to admit.
Commitment phobes may display SOME or MANY of the following behaviours (I have substituted man for woman and vice versa):
1. They usually have a history of short relationships and they may never have been married - there is often an excuse that they haven’t met the right man...
...A favourite line is "someday".
3. They want a relationship but they also want freedom and space so they are often attracted to long distance relationships and busy independent men.
6. These women are usually very affectionate and loving. This is because in their mind the relationship is not going to be long term, so they feel free to give affection and love, knowing it won’t be forever...
13. Commitment phobics behaviours announce subtly…“You will be special for a short time, but it won’t be forever”.
14. They often choose men who are not the type of partner they are looking for, for example they may be much older, much younger, married, or they may have different interests. They use these differences as excuses to end relationships.
15. They can have a history of frequent career change and often work in environments where they have a certain amount of space and freedom.
18. They know an ongoing sexual relationship often leads to commitment so they choose to run when things start to head in that direction.
21. They tend to compartmentalize their life and keep their work environment, friends or family off limits. They can create wonderful excuses why the woman shouldn’t meet these people.
27. ...they are evasive and secretive about where they are and what they are doing to create space.
35. Severe commitment phobics rarely lower their defences because they don’t want to get too close to a man, or vice versa. If they do, they usually only give little pieces of their soul in well- planned instalments, except if they are having an affair. Affairs are perfect for commitment phobics as they feel completely safe to disclose and to chase, as commitment is not an option while they are in another relationship.
40. The word “forever” terrifies these women. Love doesn’t scare them; rather it is what love represents to them that scares them. This is due to their negative belief system about love and relationships.
When I say recovering, I mean just that. It's been a few years since I have properly shown such behaviour, I still have to practice a level of self control at the beginning of a fling/relationship as I tend to fall hard and quick but fall out just as fast.
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Thursday, 22 October 2009

It's only sex

Friend: So, how's the toyboy?
Me: On and off, seeing him this weekend
Friend: For s hag?
Friend: For a shag?
Me: Oh yeah...
Friend: The sex still amazing?
Me: It's fucking brilliant, no oral (on me) yet
Friend: That might be a good thing
Me: WTF?!
Friend: That's your connector, that's your deal-breaker and this is a sex-only relationship isn't
it? I mean you're not emotionally involved.
Me: Of course not.
Friend: "Of course not". Wake up and smell the shit.
Me: I'm not!!
Friend: You so are - and you have every right to be - he is hot! And you are yourself with him, none of that trying to impress bullshit.
Me: I admit, I like him, I sometimes, just sometimes think about him and his cock and what I would like them both to do to me, but that's it - I don't want to actually be with him.
Friend: You're in danger territory... I don't want to see you get hurt.
Me: I'm fine, it's fine.
Friend: Repeat after me. It's only sex.
Me: "It's only sex".
Friend: Hhmmm...
Me: "Hhmmm..."
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Wednesday, 21 October 2009

Monday's date was full of face

We met up too early on Monday, i.e. straight from work, drinking at 17:30 is not advised, especially not for a first date. There was a little chemistry but it was hard work, a few drinks later and he had relaxed, I asked questions and he answered them. As he didn't seem to ask me anything and such I couldn't decide if he was uninterested, bored, nervous or a combination.
No need to worry about me being on autopilot!
Any attraction had waned by ten and we called it a night.
He walked me to the station and went to kiss me, I nearly recoiled. About a metre from my face and his lips were already pursed in a surprised O shape, his lips didn't move from this position and instead of using his lips and tongue, he moved his head to kiss. Very odd.
So why didn't I pass on the kiss? Because I can be swayed by a kiss. A good kiss, and some passion.
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Monday, 19 October 2009

Goodbye weekend

My weekend was commandeered by the break-up of a close friend and her long-term boyfriend.
Initially we devised an action plan:
- Lunch
- Manicure
- Dinner
- Dancing, cocktails, taxi, ice cream
- Repeat until unconscious
Basically, a lot of eating, drinking and attention. Women need to talk, and talk we did. It's sad to think that we laughed more this weekend than we have in years.
This particular bloke is not a tosser, he's just a little out of his depth, and chances are if they can communicate they'll be back together within the next couple of weeks. Luckily she wasn't the emotional mess I thought she was going to be.
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Saturday, 17 October 2009

Speed (bump) dating

A novice to speed dating, I wasn't sure what to expect last night - I was curious and hopeful. The event was held in a swanky bar, the lights were a little high, I suppose I was thinking of a dimly lit, velvet clad basement bar littered with candles and it certainly wasn't that.
I was disappointed that I didn't fancy any of the twenty men, which in turn was strange as I can usually find something about someone to fancy.
It was a nice polite event, after the first three, I turned to autopilot, although my mischievous side at half time managed to down two very strong cocktails, the second half got a tipsy 30-F-London.
After the event finished and the bar's music system doubled forthwith, I got speaking to the bloke who made me genuinely laugh. Within twenty minutes he had covered pornography and masturbation without any suggestive comments from me, his candid attitude was refreshing and as I was going to leave he kissed me and the kiss was so strange, it was like what one could only imagine being kissed by a Labrador, saliva everywhere!
I think speed dating is a good idea and could be great, but dependant on immediate chemistry.
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Friday, 16 October 2009

An afternoon with me, myself and my...

Yesterday I was plagued with salacious thoughts. I don't think I have ever been so horny without a specific reason as I was last night, I planned an early night following a long day, a long bath and some long-life batteries.
I would like to blame the libido disappearance on the dramatisation of Margaret Thatcher's ascent to the House of Commons as shown on BBC4, once the programme had begun I couldn't get the horniness back for many many hours.
Distracted by life, men, fantasies and desires, my brain wouldn't or couldn't stop and enjoy the moment.
A message I received response to my desire to try anal play was playing on my mind, suggesting that I must have had a play, on my own, like. I'm sad to say I haven't.
Someone fingered my vagina before I did, a penis penetrated me long before a vibrator did and as such my my anal play is limited to purely desired and theoretical.
I'm not sure how successful this will be but I have booked an anal afternoon with myself, for this weekend. The last few weeks, I have been preparing an anal play box of tricks which I hope will come in handy.
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Scent of a man

I usually wear just one perfume (at a time and in general), it's a signature scent. An ex (I'm still friends with the majority of exes) recently commented that when he smells 'me' on the tube, he can't help but smile and look for me. When I joked that that would be to hide, he laughed a little too hard!
If I smell Joop! or Dune Pour Homme I regress immediately to being a teenager and the 90s. It feels me with excitement, uncertainty and a hint of the undiscovered.
There are scents that I don't particularly like - CK1 a definite example - not only does it have a chemical smell it tastes disgusting. I had to ask Quiet Boy to stop spraying Lynx across his chest (adverts have a lot to answer for) as any nipple play made me gag, he was offended, the sensual atmosphere died, though this pretty much sums up the story of our relationship.
Jason wears an aftershave I normally wouldn't like, but on him it smells different or is it that I like him? Jason has gone AWOL again, like last time it was just after a heightened liberation of hardcore fantasies, unlike last time I have checked my messages properly.
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Thursday, 15 October 2009

Naked ambition

I read (eons ago) somewhere "Keep your man, stay dressed".
I can't find the article, even after 300+ seconds of googling - nada (although I did find an interesting forum addressing - no pun intended - do you dress up for your man in prison?)!
As I recall the article/blog/the-back-of-a-napkin outlined that men are visually stimulated and as such, men should only be allowed to view the 'goods' of breasts, pussy and arse for sex/business* time. I am guessing a treat them [visually] mean, keep them keen scenario.
This news deflated me. Up until this point naked was on my list of things going for me.
I am always naked, well not always obviously, but I sleep naked, if left to my own devices I do the housework naked, I often watch television naked and so on, more so in the summer than winter of course.
To show the impression this article must have had on me, the very next day, or maybe the very next day with late night shopping, I went and bought some pyjamas, cute and silky, yet covering all the essentials.
They didn't go down well at all.
My then-boyfriend demanded to know why I had suddenly stopped coming to bed naked, questioning my love and devotion for him and was all round offended by my lack of naturist tendencies.
Well there was £19 I needn't have given to Marks and Spencer and the last time I took heed of such waiting-room-literature.
UPDATE
This was ages ago, nearly a decade, and once I realised not to take it personally, and looking at my own experiences i.e. I love to undress a man and in turn love to be undressed, I started to rethink the nudity. Alone - I still sleep naked, with a new lover - I deal with my 'nakedness' with inventive underwear and/or lingerie, established lovers - a mix between naked and lingerie. My new thing is to be lightly dressed with the use of stockings/hold-ups, French knickers and a basque/bodice, showing enough flesh, and adequate accessibility - a successful compromise worth making.
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Date, date, date

After the mini resolution for the next few months of flirt, flirt, flirt, I have done just that. I also went through my phone and arranged dates with those I said I would get back to (all those?! yeah, that would be two!).
In total I have four dates between now and the end of the month and although I am finding the repetitiveness of first dates a little erm.. repetitive - when I don't have many dates my first date banter is nervous and giggly, if I have too many dates in a short space of time I sometimes find myself in autopilot mode - come the end of October, I will find myself missing the potential dates, dates and dating rituals but more so I will miss the excitement of "...what if...".
Underneath the pure filth that is my mind, my underwear and my self-lubricating areas, I am a romantic. I am seeking my holy grail of love - a man to satisfy me mentally, emotionally, intellectually, physically and sexually. Too much to ask? Scarily though, the older I get, the less willing I am to compromise.
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If NASA did moisturisers...

Last night I had an last minute date, was it successful? Let's just say I was home, tucked up in my settee by 22:00 in time to watch True Blood.
Impromptu date
An impromptu date for me can be compared to a daytime booty call, the bloke in question has been away and yesterday afternoon I got a call from him apologising for not being in touch whilst on the other side of the world, but would really like to have those drinks with me and was I free that very evening?
I said yes. I preferred that it was a call and not a text or email, he sounded genuine and although it was short notice I love spontaneity and I didn't have any plans. Why am I justifying it? I don't know.
Those drinks
This is an example of how one shouldn't give one's number to someone at silly o'clock in the morning at a party and assume that the conversation would carry on... he was courteous, complimentary and sweet but there was no real spark and I was a little alarmed at him laughing at my anecdotes, they were funny, they weren't that funny.
In for the kill
I'm not sure if perhaps he is a lightweight when it comes to alcohol or it was the jet lag, but when I returned from a trip to the ladies, he greeted me with a kiss, a peck on the lips. I was a little taken aback but returned the kiss, and cue ten minutes of pure hard snogging. What can I say? No spark but I love kissing.
When the face sucking stopped so did all sense of conversation. There was an awkward silence which I tried to ease with a smile, he said it was getting late (at 21:30!!) and we should do this again.
I am now left with the indentation of his coarse stubble on my face, I'm trying to keep the area moisturised but know there is some flakiness to come.
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Wednesday, 14 October 2009

I am not worthy

Yesterday I was a little caught up and preoccupied with the 'girl on top' mojo hunting, I forgot to mention the most fun of the daytime frolics.
I had previously informed Jason of my fantasies for being dominated and to dominate. He seemed to have similar ideas and would like to indulge both sides of domination - wahoo!
As he penetrated me doggy style, he gently tugged at my hair, that small tug intensified my arousal at least ten fold. I asked him to do it again, and to fuck me harder, to pull my hair again, to spank me and tell me I was filthy, that I wasn't worth it or deserve it. He did everything I asked and more, the orgasm that shuddered through me was extremely intense, as he withdrew, my body and my pussy immediately felt the loss.
It's safe to say I am naturally submissive, although just because the dominant side in me is dormant, it's certainly there simmering.
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Jason 2.0

The fuck buddy post came about as I have been thinking what do Jason and I have? The arrangement we have is purely sexual, so this would categorise him as a fuck buddy.
I'm never drunk when we meet, which in turn is different and unique to other fuck buddies and situations - it's not a drunken or a late night booty call. It's scheduled. I can prepare my favourite underwear and fantasy scenarios.
Although I am aware that my thoughts are increasingly occupied with what I intend to do with Jason and his delicious cock the next time we are together.
Should I feel myself falling for him, I will need to be strong enough and finish it on a high!
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That four letter word

Today during the fuck fest - there were times where I felt momentarily paralysed - when love was mentioned, not by me or my young lover but in song.
I always like fuck to music: a) I like music b) it helps drown out out background sounds and c) it helps create a rhythm, but today I realised how much of my playlists were love-centred, I was planning to sign up to some spotify playlists to assist with the fuck-to music but all the ones I initially saw were front-heavy with Marvin Gaye and alike.
Ironically when I am in this mood, I can't help but use (or overtly aware of) the adjective 'love' all the freaking time, I love this musician, I love it when the moon looks like.... blah blah blah...
I want music to fuck to, not make love to.
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Tuesday, 13 October 2009

Seen: Missing Mojo

I saw Jason for a mid-afternoon screw.
After a great 'him on top' and I mean fabulous session*, long, drawn out and simply lovely, I tried going on top, I didn't forewarn him about my apprehension, and it was amazing, up until we were both about to come and I slowed down, I tried to get the momentum going again but it was lost, my proof? He suggested taking me doggy style - marvellous (which it was).
It was spot on until that point, and maybe is he unaware of my thoughts and feelings but he must have felt it wasn't enough - ggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
We fucked a couple of more times and I must admit, I do adore his cock.
Before this happened, I spoke about the list, well I mentioned anal sex and asphyxiation, I started with the words "don't be freaked out but..." he is happy to oblige when I'm ready, that was enough for one day,
I feel 100% satiated.
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* He is not quick to ejaculate by any means!!

Sunday, 11 October 2009

Friends with benefits

A male friend and I got into the mass (yes - I can be puerile) debate 'do fuck buddies work or even exist'? My experience says yes. His inexperience said no. I've had a few of my own, some very successful some not so:
Drummer boy
We fucked each other on and off for around six years - give or take. During that time I would say for around six months I was falling for him but because we had such a strong friendship and fuckship when the infatuation faded I still saw him for four years. The sex was safe, mutual masturbation and penetration. No oral, well he instigated oral around five years in, I was so shocked I think I nearly kneed him in the face!
The Scottish Scott
An amazing lover, and had all the right words and moves. When we were together it was great, he would either be smothering with texts or completely disappeared. I fell for his Scottish charm, and within a week of spending all our time together in bed, I knew he could literally pull out my heart and crush it. I fucked him out of my system.
Footballer
Our first night together was after a drink-fuelled evening but it stop us having sex six times, three times before sleep and three sleepy fucks. We saw each other, twice a week, I would oblige his texted requests i.e. 'turn up with just underwear under a coat' and so on... until it fizzled out. He was insatiable.
The rebound
After a pretty torturous long-term relationship, I bumped into an old admirer, after a cheeky snog, I explained that I had just got out of a long relationship and just looking for some fun. Four weeks later he proclaimed I might be his 'happily ever after', sadly for all involved I didn't feel the same, so it ended.
We fucked, long and hard. We laughed, long and hard. I thought it was a fuck-for-fun relationship, he thought I was too into him and backed off. I was into him, but in a pent-up, oh my god you have an amazing tongue kind of way, not in a can we have babies kind of way. I would have been happier to have the sex, he tried to integrate the friendship which confused everything but hey...
With sex, comes a connection, with a connection comes the possibility of being hurt. But it's the possibility of being hurt makes me feel alive.
Thinking about this I think as long as both people involved up front, I think it's possible to have a successful fuck buddy relationship.
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Missing: Mojo

Being on top is great.
I love being on top, the position, the view and the control but recently I feel like I have lost my on top mojo.
I either can't get into the right rhythm - going too fast or too slow, or the right position - too high or too low, or a combination of rhythm/position. Since I have started thinking about it, I am even more aware of it.
I need to find it - I'm just not sure where to look...
Wish me luck.
UPDATE
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What's in a name?

"Young professionals called Paul and Catherine are most likely to be swingers according to a new study.
Blokes called Andrew, David or Mark were also among the most likely to swing as were women called Clare, Sarah and Emma."
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Saturday, 10 October 2009

Yeehaw!

Jason is amazing *confident smile - covering any not-for-one-second insecurities*. He officially emailed me last, but after I had detailed some of my fanatasies and what I would like him to do with me, he replied with "have a good weekend"! Without even a yay or nay to my list of demands *cough* desires (I only mentioned one - Domination - from the list). We had a casual chat about casual communication which cleared up most of the understanding and cemented what we both wanted and needed from each other - this was obviously pillow talk, we had better things to start with.
Last night he arrived promptly, a little wet from the rain, armed with his wanton grin, the moment I saw his face my loins melted. As he initiated the 'normal' sexual abandonment, I asked him to slow down.
I undressed him almost as if I was giving him a lap dance, I stayed very close to him and kissed his gorgeous body where clothes had been momentarily before and asked him to stay standing. I was dressed in a cutesy 'girl next door' dress but underneath had a lacey bra, knickers, suspender combination, his eyes said it all when he felt the suspender belt but I was not to be rushed.
With his hard penis standing to attention, I pumped some lube onto my chest and extra slowly I took his erection gently in and out of my cleavage, licking the head of his penis as it came towards my chin (note to self - buy some flavoured lubricant), with each down stroke into my cleavage, I would gaze up with more than just a glint in my eye. I intended to savour the moment and the taste of him.
As he got more excited and I could feel his balls tense, I asked him to fuck me, very hard, from behind. He obliged and did he.
There is something about his fabulous cock that massages my g-spot in the most amazing way.
As he began to fuck me, I asked for him to be harder, I came nearly immediately, then again and again. I always feel weird about coming so quicky as I am aware I immediately slow down and I know how annoying that can be when the roles are reversed, he flipped me over and I came again, he is my orgasm machine! We had sex a couple more times, but the first of the night is always the most intense, the best release.
Jason calms me, the sexual me, in its entirety. I worry that he satisfies me to a degree that my inner animal instinct is placated. He's not boyfriend material, but no-one else comes close at the moment to getting me off in such a way.
My muscles ache and I'm walking like John Wayne but it's worth it.
Yeehaw!
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Friday, 9 October 2009

Date rituals

I'm not sure how preparing for a date has become such a ritual:
The day before
- Intensive moisturising face mask (I'm not quite at the Oil of Ulay stage but it can't be long...)
- Intensive moisturising hair mask
- Check that the underwear I plan to wear is clean, matched or buy a new lacy combination
- Buy stockings (rough sex is obliterating my supply of stockings and hold-ups)
- Decide on outfit
- Ensure clean bed linen
On the day
- Defuzzing
- Locate fresh pineapple (my kiss is sweet)
- Polish fuck-me shoes
- Delicate make-up application i.e. enough to look good, not too much my face melts
Does this make me incredibly vain?
I am currently in the middle of 'on the day' ablutions and traditions.
Jason sent me a message, it turns out he was waiting for me to give him my availability and I was waiting to hear from him. We're seeing each other this evening and I'm already moist in anticipation.
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Thursday, 8 October 2009

One Not Stand

If my life was a comic strip there would still be an ironic speech bubble with the words "..I think one night stands are behind me..." gently hovering above my head. As these were the last words I said to a friend before heading out for the night.
I was really looking forward to last night's date but was equally knackered. I put on a layer of make-up as a substitute for missed sleep and was more excited than nervous.
I needn't have had any apprehension - the evening was lovely, we had a few drinks, shared equally heart-warming and embarrassing stories and half-way through the night a small kiss turned into a bigger kiss etc. When the last orders bell went, we agreed to meet up at the weekend. Somewhere between leaving the bar and getting to the station, we stumbled into a late-night bar and then a taxi.
So back at mine and the romantic in me would have been happy to have kisses, cuddles and maybe some petting. The harlot in me thought otherwise. Actually the realist in me, doubted the romantic in me. How many personalities to contend with?! I liked him, he had potential. If we had finished the night at the station, I would now have huge expectations of him, his penis and what his penis could do to me together with looking forward to another 'great date'.
The kissing was great, the petting not so good and the attempted sex was awful.
That may sound harsh, but I'm not judging on the overall performance (we'd both been drinking and it was our first time together), I mean that would be unnecessarily cruel, but the attitude. He just didn't want to seem to want to please me, he came three times without going near my clitoris and thought that was acceptable.
I hadn't intended it to be a one night stand but that's how it's ended up.
Back to the drawing board.
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