Monday, 30 November 2009

A Rut

I am suffering from my very own sex drought, it's been what, three weeks or so (if that?!) since any sexual activity, snogging aside, not the longest time in anyone's book but it's seriously notable in my life I have had the misfortune to discover.
Towards the end of last week, I felt my libido starting to wane.
My minimum of two wanks a day had decreased, my mood lowered, my neurosis at its most destructive and this morning I realised it's been at least three days without masturbation.
How easy is it to get into a rut?
The moment I returned home this evening, I found my favourite vibrator and retired for half an hour, two wanks later, I was feeling much better.
To my delight, Jason then sent me a message detailing exactly what he was going to do with me when we meet up. This prompted a third ladyplay and a fourth is pencilled in for bedtime.
I feel like a new woman!
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Absence makes the loins grow fonder

As I hadn't heard from Jason after sending him to Coventry, I had put him to the back of my mind, but thinking about him at the weekend after seeing someone with a similar engaging smile.
I knew I might have to swallow some humble pie after the last time we spoke and was planning to get in contact this morning and had the perfect saucy picture to harden him up!
My intentions of seduction were blown out of the water late last night, after allowing some champagne bubbles go straight to my head, I just sent a text "Fancy a fuck?". Subtle, I know.
However, the direct approach worked, I received a very much so response and I'm going to see him at the end of the week, my loins are suitably excited.
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Half the time

They say (who are they in this particular instance – I have no idea) to get over a courtship it allegedly takes half of the time of that relationship, so I start a timeline of my past relationships from the year 2000...
It shows my love for summer flings and have had around ten relationships in seven years. It looks more like a CV than a romantic timeline and think about the possible references I would receive, I have never had a substantial relationship outside of what is considered grieving time, what does this mean?
I am for the first time in years outside of the influence of past relationships, why am I thinking about relationships so much, more to the point, why am I thinking about Keaton with such intent?
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Sunday, 29 November 2009

Recovering - part two

I'm not sure I like like the term commitment phobe, although sometimes it seems to sum me up to a tee. I'm not afraid of commitment per se, I'm very aware that I find it difficult to sustain commitment.
I enter relationships with high hopes, promises and good intentions, once I have the glimpse of the end of the yellow brick road
Although I accept relationships aren't automatically perfect, they take time, communication and work.
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Friday, 27 November 2009

My last...?

Recently I was asked when I last had a boyfriend? I paused and replied 'a real one'?
Do I include the rebound summer fling of '08, the revisit of an ex in autumn '08, on/off no-commitment-what-so-ever fling with Quiet boy, brief dalliances with Pussy boy, Jason's sexercise et al?
As I haven't called any man my boyfriend since last summer I answered as genuinely as I could in one sentence:
My last long-term relationship ended in summer 2008 and had one significant although on/off relationship since then.
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Planning for the unexpected morning after

Because time is crucial to the effectiveness of the morning-after pill the Family Planning Association (FPA) believes that women should be encouraged to keep emergency contraception in the same way that people keep a supply of paracetamol or antihistamines.
Considering people 'not in relationships' are probably in a higher risk category and those who should be using condoms to prevent STDs, I'm not sure having a stock of morning after pills would help with the responsible decision making in the heat of the moment.
Although the handful of times I have relied on the morning after pill there has been at least a 36 hour delay (from Saturday night to Monday morning) to being able to get access to one, this was though in the days before they were able to purchase over the counter rather than by prescription only.
In the words of a good Girl Guide - be prepared.
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I have always assumed myself as straight, without hesitation. Last night a friend catigorically defined me as heteroflexible.
His reasons:
- I am so confident in my sexuality, it's likely to overflow (not sure)
- My choice of porn is nearly always lesbian (true)
- I flirt with girls (true)
- He could see me having a FMF threesome (maybe)
- My sensuality finds subjects and intellect attractive, not necessarily attributed to men (true)
- My one girl crush (true)
I obviously had to urban dictionary heteroflexible which is defined as 'A person who identifies themselves as primarily heterosexual but can find the same sex sexually appealing'.
He may have a point.
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Thursday, 26 November 2009

For good behaviour

"Unfortunately most men lose their desire to have sex with a girl the longer they are with them..." was a comment left on one of my posts.
If this is the case, can there be a 'happy ever after' or is it an improbable dream?
As divorce rates rise and people change, develop and grow over time what is wrong with having a decade partner instead of a life partner.
In the UK being convicted for life imprisonment represents 16 years*, which equates to eight years for good behaviour.
Why not same for relationships, with the exception of course you get to have eight years together with sixteen for good behaviour?!
Hence the sometimes common phrase - [been married 20 years] would have got less for murder...

Is sex a deal breaker?

Reading Moxie's post asking if sexual compatibility was a deal breaker got me thinking. I am reminded of a previous post where I said I would raise my standards and lower my expectations. With my standards higher, I have more space to manoeuver any potential compromise.
I cannot imagine myself in a successful relationship without decent sex, I've tasted the near-perfect match mentally, emotionally and physically more than once. That said, I am a realist, I have truly loved and I felt that love again without explosive sex, maybe I could compromise with meeting in the middle physically, maybe.
My response to Moxie's post:
I'm 30 and sex is very important to me.
However, relationship sex is different to casual/fling sex.
If one has a casual relationship, merely based on attraction and hooking up,then the sex should be great or good and improving with each meet.
Relationship sex is different, with a boyfriend the sex usually gets better with intimacy in a way that would rarely happens with a casual relationship.
When I like someone enough to commit to them, I look for good sex, effort and enthusiasm and a willing to try each other's fantasies.
My level of compromise seems to be diminishing with age, I have had a relationship where for a year (not even great) sex was on offer once a week and we were practically living together at the time and that now is a no go for me. And in contrast with someone for four years and sex was still at least every other day and great.
If sex tapers naturally throughout a relationship, I would prefer it fade from ten times a week to five, than from five times a week to two...
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I have used up all my dates.
I am bored of dating and bored of not-dating, my libido is bored of all.
I'm not sure what is going to happen with Keaton, and although I have Quiet boy on the sidelines, if I mention anything resembling commitment or the next week even, he is likely to go off like a Catherine Wheel.
A good friend accepted a proposal of marriage last weekend and announced that she met her beau online - which was news to her nearest and dearest, when they got together at least a few years back this wasn't the proclaimed case.
Under the influence of alcohol and peer pressure, I didn't have the heart to divulge that I had been seeing Quiet boy again, there would have been lectures, and what with the uncertaintly of Keaton, I was open to temptation.
Intoxicated, the three singletons - slutty, sensible and frigid all vowed to give it a go.
It being so close to Christmas I asked for at least a two month reprieve. I was granted a five weeks...
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Wednesday, 25 November 2009

Cum or pre-cum? That is the question...

I received a text asking (this is going to be messy, if you have a nervous disposition please look away now)...
Friend: Can pre-cum make you pregnant?
Me: Yes - you're an idiot...
I felt slightly bad for such an abrupt response, but really if she had wanted a soft thirty she should have pre-warned me.
Pregnancy test and about £15 later, she's in the clear. Phew!
What completely ruffled me - conceding that someone our age can either not know the answer to this or risk unprotected sex with a new lover - what hope do we have for teenagers and alike...?
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Fetish friend

Out with friends and Anna turned up, late and flustered. Although I've known her for a few years, and we end up at the same parties there is usually no more than a passing hello between us.
Anna's annoyingly outspoken, that aside, she's nice enough. We ended up seated next to each other at a mutual friend's birthday dinner, after a few (too many) glasses of wine we started swapping embarrassing anecdotes. Anna's recollection involved a PVC outfit and a naked flame.
She started to talk about her various rubber outfits and fetish nights she attends - my eyes lit up! Conversation and laughter flowed as easily as the wine and a fabulous night was had.
The next morning I called our mutual friend and asked for Anna's number. Nervously, I planned exactly what I wanted to say, I wanted to come across as casual and fun, not too eager and desperate, long story short, we're going to go clubbing together!
Two straight women, going out, dressed in underwear... Normal, right?
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Historical fuck buddy

Diary entry from December 2006

Mr [fuck buddy] called...

Background - we used to see/fuck each other on and off for about six years, when we were both single and horny. I haven't seen him recently, the last couple of times we've agreed to meet up, one of us has had to cancel.

Him: I think we should catch up, I've been thinking about you since my birthday... (I missed his birthday this year, as I was away with work, but last year it was a long night, well two nights of celebration).

Me: Sounds good, I'm a tad busy at the mo (I have my birthday to organise, work is manic, but also I don't want to drop everything for him as I once did), how about I call at the weekend and organise something?

Him: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I mean really catch up, me and you, setting aside a whole evening, a couple of bottles of wine, a take away and just chill.

Me: Mmmmm that was a little different to the catch up I had in mind, but entertaining all the same.

Him: I mean it, I really hoped to have seen you a fortnight ago.

Me: (just realising how drunk he is) I'll give you a call and we'll schedule some funtime

Him: Will we?

Me: Yes

Him: Will we though?

Me: Yes

Him: But we always say that, and never actually do...

Me: We will, I'll call you.

Him: Will we?

Me: Yes

Him: Will we though?

Me: Yes

Him: Will we?

Me: Yes

Him: Will we though?

Me: Yes

Him: Will we?

Me: Yes

Him: Will we though?

Me: Yes (this is tiring)

Him: Look, I will do whatever I need to see you on a regular basis - just tell me what I need to do

Me: *silence* (WTF? Where the fuck did this come from?)

Him: If you want a boyfriend, I'll do that.

Me: It's ok, I don't want a boyfriend.

Him: Well what do you want?

Me: From you, nothing?

Him: So what is going on?

Me: Nothing, not sure where this has all come from.

Him: Well, I want to see you.

Me: Well how about we go for a drink.

Him: Whatever

(My phone dies, once back on then rings)

Him: Did you hang up on me?

Me: No, my phone died, look I'll call you at the weekend...

Him: Will you? (sarcastically)

Me: Yep (giggling), speak soon

Him: Yeah ok (still sarcastically)

Me: Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Him: Bye (now very sarcastically)

10 minutes later

(phone rings)

Him: So, let me get this right, you now think I am the biggest arsehole and you will make an excuse not to call me, perhaps in a text or impersonal email...

Me: No, I was just thinking, I would call you tomorrow morning, relay your drunken call and give you the chance to redeem yourself in an email of 100 words or less.

Him: Oh, ok. I best shut it before saying something arseholish again...

Me: Night

Him: Night

I can forgive drunk dialling and I did, we fucked a couple more times, not that winter mind. Although, I haven't seen him for at least a year, I received a missed call from him last night and not sure why...

Sadly once upon a time a missed call from him would have me moist and excited, alas no longer.

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Tuesday, 24 November 2009

What's his star sign...?

The moment I confided in two friends about the no-sex with Keaton, I cringed a little as I heard the words leave my mouth and enter reality.
We've been on what? Six dates? I need to know if we are compatible in bed. Of course I don't need that, but it feels like a pressure building inside of me. I like him, probably too much.
I have found myself fantasising being with him resulting in a) good sex and b) with not-so-good sex and concluded it is a dealbreaker. As shallow as this sounds, I don't think I can be in physically inadequate relationship.
With Keaton:
a) I like everything I am discovering about him, but maybe too emotionally attached to someone I don't actually know that well, but is it a case of trying to forge physically intimacy to counter emotional intimacy? (Moxie as ever, is always is on the ball).
b) The not-initiating thing has to stop. If I hadn't been in that headspace the other night, I'm sure I wouldn't be so confused now!
c) I pretty much put all my eggs in one basket with Keaton and they are not ready to hatch. Is it too soon to demand sex with menaces?
With Jason's visit to Coventry about to be lifted and Quiet boy still in the background I am tempted to see/fuck one of them this week, just to regain some sanity and/or perspective.
The abstinence of not even a fortnight (really, can it only be ten days since I last had sex?!) is actually making me depressed, does that indicate an addiction to sex or merely I am suffering from the comedown of some intense months between the sheets?
If I hadn't realised that this was the reason I was feeling low, I could and probably would have hibernated for the winter, hence I can be my own worst enemy.
A male friend asked why I was holding back on the initiating of sex and associated acts? I explained my reasons but immediately was hit with the neurotic stick.
How quickly I had forgotten about enthusiasm, and if I felt upset with Quiet boy never instigating, how would anyone I happened to come across naked feel being subjected to such withholding behaviour. MADNESS! His advice? Jump his bones!
A female friend's response was to ask what star sign Keaton was?
I quite like to use horoscopes to my advantage, if I like what they have to say, great, it's a sign. If not, what a load of bollocks...
On second thoughts as my horoscope for today states "Your good intentions might not be enough to keep you on track today as you live out your wanderlust through your fantasies..." - bring it on.
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Health and safety sex

It seems safe sex doesn't just cover sexually transmitted diseases.
Hugh Hefner has spoken of sex nearly finishing him off (no, not a happy finish). One could easily assume the ol' explosive sex + four Playboy bunnies = potential heart attack but he disclosed he almost swallowed a Ben Wa ball.
My own experience with a Ben Wa ball can confirm they are slippery little buggers, cue one being lost inside of me and only jumping jacks could assist with retrieving it, although fun all the same.
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Monday, 23 November 2009

How to silence a Quiet Boy

I met up with Quiet boy and spoke frankly about my wants and needs, apt considering nearly one month has passed since this post.
I informed him of my frustration, not sexually, but mentally. I touched on the fact that I have been avoided initiating sex. His distance affects me, I can't help but take it personally. When challenged he asked if he was ever allowed to have an off day. To which I replied it's to be expected, just talk to me, tell me that, share your life, good and bad.
Quiet boy isn't as realistic, he has such romantic values, that each call, date and overnight stay has to be perfect. I explained that I do not expect him to be ridiculously happy all of the time, but to no avail.
I am reminded of the Eugene Delacroix quote: “The artist who aims at perfection in everything achieves it in nothing.”.
I'm glad I was able to give him the benefit of the doubt a month ago, without fear of being hurt or more specifically aware of how I would be hurt and pressed ahead, but nothing has actually changed, even with my compromises, he won't or maybe can't ever relax.
We keep having the same conversations, over and over again.
Before we took trains in opposite directions, we kissed, hesitantly as first, then with tongues. I can't help but feel the passion has gone.
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Sunday, 22 November 2009

Very tempting, maybe next time

On the way home from a fabulous night out, a friend of a friend and I were travelling home in a similar direction.
He was gorgeous, massive smile and with a twinkle in his eyes. He suggested that I go back with him, I coyly said "very tempting, maybe next time...". He added a carrot to his deal with some of his what I can only guess to be his sexual party tricks. He comes with a particular bad boy reputation, that my curiosity could get the better of.
It wasn't until this morning that I regretted not taking a further minute or two to consider the tantalising albeit alcohol-aided offer.
Considering my recent frustration, why didn't I jump at the chance? I can tell that I am too emotionally invested with Keaton, aaarrrggghhhh!
As we parted company, I received a text from Keaton and I headed to Keaton's, tipsy and horny. (Stupidly) I didn't initiate anything and nothing happened, we kissed and fell asleep. I woke up in a confused-come-frustrated mood but to overcompensate oversleeping had to rush off without having a chance to do anything about it.
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You don't ask, you don't get.
Or so my research has concluded. I was still experimenting with being less predatory, as such, I was not initiating sex of any kind. As a result I can't think about anything else.
At all.
I am frustrated. Even three ladyplays a day cannot tone down the pent-up feeling trying to escape my loins.
What doesn't help is that after countless dates with Keaton, I say countless, I mean too many dates with nothing from him, kissing aside there is physicality is limited. A friend said that Keaton is probably shy, but to be honest I don't care if he is shy. I want and need someone that is equipped with a minimum level of sexual confidence.
I am perhaps too aware of the repercussions of a being emotionally involved in an unsatisfactory physical relationship (see Mr Maybe Next Time).
Maybe if I were not so sexually frustrated, I would be able to think straight.
It's certainly time to reintroduce initiation.
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Nine dangerous words

I ran into a Uni friend that I hadn't seen in ages and uttered nine harmless (they sounded harmless in my head) words "I used to have the biggest crush on you", followed by an even less virtuous giggle.
Then it hit me, could those words be any less innocent? Subconsciously or otherwise, the intent was clear, I might have well have said I used fancy you, well, actually I probably still do.
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Wednesday, 18 November 2009

The things I love about men - the not-so-tall

My love of longer-legged men aside, my once-exclusive dating of man-giants has dissipated over the years, and I have seen the light with shorter men. In the style of old Hollywood romance - Bacall and Bogart were only within half an inch of each other in height.
In fact the pros and cons are nearly even, I mean, we're all the same lying down!
I like not having to creak my neck to kiss, the eye contact is more intense, and satisfyingly they make great, if not better lovers than their tall counterparts, it must have something to do with less of a journey that the all-important blood has to travel! Waking up wrapped in their legs, is a tighter fit, especially when taller men can be more gangly.
Although I went out with one bloke who was a couple of inches taller than me and complained that I wasn't shorter throughout our short (no pun intended) relationship, I wasn't going to let a bad apple ruin the bunch!
The only real con is regards to my love of high heels, but not-so-heels work just as well!
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The things I love about men - Height

I must have been older than twenty before I dated a man under six foot.
Apparently tall men get the better end of the stick (according to shorter men maybe?!), but there is something very attractive about a tall man.
Although I think it's more to do with confident tall men rather than just the huge height, as I have met a considerable amount of tall but shy men, who find their out of the ordinary height uncomfortable and hence stoop.
I can't specifically pinpoint what it is about tall men, it's the full kit and caboodle. The long legs certainly help! I'm sure there is endless scientific research to back all my animalistic attractions.
I like looking up to a man as we kiss. I like it when I can (standing up, of course!) fit under a man's chin, and even better when I can with heels on.
Long legs, yum!
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More lip service

Thinking about lip service, being open with body language and compliments made me realise that as well as not taking a compliment early on at full value, I am not that great at giving them either.
The main reason for this, underneath all my protective layers, I am mush. I don't want to give the wrong impression, and can do unwittingly all the time (especially those subject to 42 days).
Resolution for the next few weeks - freely give honest and encouraging compliments.
The compliments resolution is working already! I've had one message from Quiet boy stating he hoped I didn't think he was fishing for compliments... Can I really be that cold?!
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Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Giddiness gone mad

As implied in my earlier post, I can go a little ga-ga which is more to do with me, my emotions and I guess hormones than the actual new potential suitor.
I can already feel myself melting about Keaton. I need to locate those emotional defence barriers!
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42 days...

When I was younger, say in my late teens, I would have six week flings or a year + long relationships. There was rarely anything in between these two states of being.
Six weeks
In six weeks, I could meet someone, fall in love, plan for the future, wake up one day (usually day 42) and be out of love, the feeling of love, lust or euphoria gone. I started to hold back in the first few weeks to see if what I was feeling was actually real. I didn't want to say anything that might lead someone on or be subject to change.
A year +
If someone lasted past week six, they were a keeper. The six week rule started as an in-joke between my female friends and me, it wasn't a rule as such, just a very handy benchmark.
When I reached my twenties I was aware of the giddiness that I could go through early on and started to quell that side of me, sensibly.
This had good and bad points. I could be colder and more hesitant, I was less spontaneous and romantic, but when the six weeks courting was up, I was then in a better place to see the person without the daze of early excitement.
There are different times of year where this feeling can be exacerbated, Christmas and birthdays can be magical enough to break down even concrete supported boundaries.
Nowadays I still have those boundaries in place, yet can smell the coffee so much earlier one rarely needs six weeks.
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Sunday smacker

After Friday's antics I was actually feeling low and confused, I nearly cancelled or at least tempted to postpone my date with Keaton.
What a mistake that would have been. Our first date was fun but I was worried it was lacking chemistry, not on my part, but still.
I was surprisingly nervous, I realised my anxiety was more to do with what if the feeling in the pit of my stomach, that the butterflies weren't to be reciprocated, these soon passed as I told myself that he had been very complimentary, he asked me out (again) and he seemed to be having a good time.
Thinking back to my body language research there were more than enough of the right signals. Our bodies were leaning towards each other, our postures in alignment, our eye contact was holding longer and longer. I am not subtle when it comes to hair playing and lip touching - although I wouldn't have been aware of this had I not been consciously inspecting and analysing my movements.
After a couple of hours of non-stop chatter, drinks and laughs, we kissed. I would like to say I had the self control to have waited for him to kiss me, alas, I didn't.
I kissed him, softly and slowly, on the lips (no tongue) and returned to my side of the table. His smile turned to a grin, and he immediately repaid the kiss but harder. Wow!
Before the date, I had spent the week thinking what kind of kisser he would be, and was very impressed. Now that I know (for the record; great, amazing, perfect), I can't help but fantasise what kind of lover he will be...
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Monday, 16 November 2009

Friday fumble

After a week of good contact i.e. texting, calls and emails I was looking forward to seeing Quiet boy on Friday night.
When he arrived at mine, I was nearly ready, I was in hold-ups, knickers, bra and a silk robe, I got a peck on the lips, when I thought this was going to become a kiss, he pulled back. Great, another night of disappointment?!
As I took off my robe, and got dressed he looked away. With Quiet boy I am trying not to initiate anything and it's taking its toll, in fact it is infuriating that I can't just say and do as I desire. I hate to think of the repercussions of putting a kiss at the end of a text.
We went out to dinner and headed to mine to watch a DVD after missing last cinema times, as we were choosing a DVD, me being bent over to reach the bottom shelf, Quiet boy coyly lifted my skirt up to see and feel the knickers I was wearing. We watched most of the DVD, my clit throbbing as his strokes started by my ankles and eventually reached the tops of my hold-ups, I practically exploded on the spot as his fingers brushed my clitoris.
I shouldn't have said anything about my [not] climaxing previously as he made the rest of the night a "she will come" goal-oriented session which distracted from enjoying the evening to trying enjoy the outcome. Hours of touching, feeling, fingering, sucking, licking followed through to fucking.
We stayed awake on the post-orgasmic high, and we continued to talk into the early hours of the morning, I love it when we talk in bed, he was relaxed and open, there was a split second where my heart turned over and I thought I could fall in love with him again, then as his arrogance returned, that feeling of love or more likely euphoria disappeared.
After four or so hours asleep, we awoke. Kisses and cuddles organically became petting, again he was determined to make me come, not in a romantic sense a technical one. It was enjoyable all the same. It started with mutual masturbation, a little oral followed by a doggy fuck.
I mentioned that I had been asked out by someone else and probably would see him in the next fews days and he said that was good, he first asked for details, name, age etc. I said it was none of his concern, social networking would make it too easy for him to join the dots. Usually for when I am with Quiet boy, I actually asked him what his problem was when he arrived the previous evening, on my brain at the time was a snog plus a quickie before heading out to dinner, he said he was in a mood. When I tried to discover why, he wouldn't budge.
He left promptly afterwards.
Not long after, I was relieved, I couldn't quite take in how much effort it had been to try and have a nice night. I'm not sure if it's because I feel held back, held back sexually definitely, I can't just say 'fancy a fuck?' as I can never tell how he react. Quiet boy once said he admired my sexual bravado, later that night he rejected me.
I'm not sure how long this can go on for. If I wanted just sex, I could easily call Jason.
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Sunday, 15 November 2009

Unnerving yet flattering

In the meantime, with my wariness of Lip Service in mind, I find myself like a fish out of water.
I met a man, let's call him Keaton, who was exceptionally complimentary, in fact his words were full of such sentiment, it was almost unnerving, yet of course flattering at the same time.
I thanked him for his comments, my cheeks were most probably crimson at this point and we are due to have a date this weekend - I'm excited and a little nervous.
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Saturday, 14 November 2009

To phone or not to phone

At the date with a Jonathan, I had my phone on the table, I explained that a colleague would be phoning as they landed and it would be easier to take a ten second call than deal with a late night voicemail, I apologised if that seemed rude. He said he was fine with it.
But, what is the etiquette when it comes to mobile devices and dating?
I now, exclusively it would seem, to use my phone in place of not only a communicator, a camera, a video camera, a voice recorder, a timer, a calculator, an alarm but a watch! Quelle heure est-il?
Personally, I feel a phone should not be a part of a date, it sets a very bad tone (boom boom?).
I am now very conscious of all phone activity...
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Friday, 13 November 2009

Five days and eight hours

It's been five days and eight hours since I last had sex. I am feeling ever so frustrated. It doesn't help that this time of year brings out the harlot in me.
This week I had a first and a second date, respectively that is with two different men, and as pleasant as they were, one (the second date) was very formal and the second (the first date - more about him later) was very fun and playful, actually thinking about it, that date did provide me with wank fodder for the remainder of the week. These two dates were my last in the list, all my potential dates are now dated.
I need more sex. Like an athlete needs a certain amount of calories and training for optimal fitness. I need more sex, full stop.
I am seeing Quiet boy tonight. I wonder what kind of mood his libido is going to be in...
It's actually more like five days and twelve hours - how depressing.
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Just Jonathan

I had a second date this week with a Jonathan.
I feel like I am trying to make excuses not to like him, but this really bugs me. He is Jonathan, no deviation, no shortening, no nickname.
Just Jonathan.
I can be fond of pet names, and the formality of it and in fact him made any attraction I did have for him wane.
No, I was right the first time, I am just making excuses, as in theory he is lovely and attentive but in reality the chemistry wasn't great enough.
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Mirror me

Body language dictates any limbs being crossed is a negative sign and I would have to agree with the exception of an above the knee skirt and a chair that is a little too low.
I had a rather informal meeting a few weeks back, I hadn't met the man before but he was welcoming and friendly and we didn't meet alone, there were four of us in total.
Nearly immediately he mirrored my body language, turning slightly away from my colleagues and very awkwardly crossing his legs towards me and as I was dressed in a skirt my legs were crossed. I tested this by swapping my crossed legs, holding one hand over my palm, playing with my fingers and so on. He followed nearly every one of my moves. To the point, where it was becoming a little uncomfortable.
I don't wish to come across as arrogant and say he blatantly fancied me, as I didn't get that vibe although it was odd and am sure it was subconscious behaviour on his part.
When I got back to my computer, body language was still on my brain, I googled romantic body language and have to say my future dating experiences will be a little more aligned for having read them:
From afar

From afar, the first task of body language is to signal interest (and then to watch for reciprocal body language).


The eyes do much signaling. Initially and from a distance, a person may look at you for slightly longer than normal, then look away, then look back up at you, again for a longer period.


There are many preening gestures. What you are basically saying with this is 'I am making myself look good for you'. This includes tossing of the head, brushing hair with hand, polishing spectacles and brushing clothes.


Remote romantic language may also include enactment of sexually stimulating activities, for example caressing oneself, for example stroking arms, leg or face. This may either say 'I would like to stroke you like this' or 'I would like you to stroke me like this'.

Similarly, the person (women in particular) may lick and purse their lips into a kiss shape and leave their mouth slightly open in imitation of sexual readiness.

Objects held may be also used in enactment displays, including cigarettes and wine glasses, for example rolling and stroking them.


Attractive parts of the body may be exposed, thrust forward, wiggled or otherwise highlighted. For women this includes breasts, neck, bottom and legs. For men it includes a muscular torso, arms or legs, and particularly the crotch (note that women seldom do this).

Faking often happens. Pressing together muscles gives the impression of higher muscle tone. Pressing together and lifting breasts (sometimes helped with an appropriate brassiere) makes them look firmer and larger. Holding out shoulders and arms makes the body look bigger. Holding in the abdomen gives the impression of a firm tummy.

This is often playing to primitive needs. Women show that they are healthy and that they are able to bear and feed the man's child. The man shows he is virile, strong and able to protect the woman and her child.


Leaning your body towards another person says 'I would like to be closer to you'. It also tests to see whether they lean towards you or away from you. It can start with the head with a simple tilt or may use the entire torso. This may be coupled with listening intently to what they say, again showing particular interest in them.


A person who is interested in you may subtly point at you with a foot, knee, arm or head. It is effectively a signal that says 'I would like to go in this direction'.

Other displays

Other forms of more distant display that are intended to attract include:

Sensual or dramatic dancing (too dramatic, and it can have the opposite effect). Crotch display, where (particularly male) legs are held apart to show off genitalia. Faked interest in others, to invoke envy or hurry a closer engagement. Nodding gently, as if to say 'Yes, I do like you.'

Up close

When you are close to the other person, the body language progressively gets more intimate until one person signals 'enough'.

Close in and personal

In moving closer to the other person, you move from social space into their personal body space, showing how you would like to get even closer to them, perhaps holding them and more...

Standing square-on to them also blocks anyone else from joining the conversation and signals to others to stay away.


Imitating the person in some way shows 'I am like you'. This can range from a similar body position to using the same gestures and language.

Lovers' gaze

When you are standing close to them, you will holding each other's gaze for longer and longer periods before looking away. You many also use what are called 'doe eyes' or 'bedroom eyes', which are often slightly moist and with the head inclined slightly down.

Where the eyes go is important. Looking at lips means 'I want to kiss'. Looking at other parts of the body may mean 'I want to touch'.

A very subtle signal that few realize is that the eyes will dilate such that the dark pupils get much bigger (this is one reason why dark-eyed people can seem attractive).


Touching signals even closer intimacy. It may start with 'accidental' brushing, followed by touching of 'safe' parts of the body such as arms or back.

Caressing is gentle stroking that may start in the safer regions and then stray (especially when alone) to sexual regions.

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Lip service

How sad that after having been on the receiving end of dodgy chat-up lines and insincere compliments that I find myself a little despondent and wary of lip service.
Initially when someone comments on your looks it feels superficial and yet if other attributes are highlighted it comes across as not believable. I mean they don't know you, your opinions or values, it's all assumptions based on first impressions.
Personally I've got to the point where it's hard to accept a genuine compliment. Madness or what?!
Can a man ever win?
Well, actions speak louder than words...
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Wednesday, 11 November 2009

The things I love about men - Clean Shaven

As much as I love stubble and beards, last summer I was engaged in an embrace with a man who had earlier that day been on the receiving end of a barbershop cut-throat shave.
For the first time, I could imagine what it would have been like to kiss a girl.
His lips were unaffected by any intrusion of hair or remnants of hair, after snogging of hours, my own face was left without a single sign of chafing.
I may have to add the cut-throat to my list of likes...
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The things I love about men - Stubble

Apparently women prefer stubble. For me it's a toss up between stubble and a beard. There is something in mind that associates stubble with sexually filthy.
And even when you spend hours kissing a man with stubble and your face is sore and sensitive the next day it is worth it. Although thinking about it now, I once had a man go down on me, bruised my clitoris with his stubble, and even then it felt so good.
Each of his short sharp hairs touching and getting close to at least some of the 8,000 nerve endings a clitoris boasts - bliss!
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The things I love about men - Beards

I have a weakness for beards, specifically of course bearded men.
There is something about soft kisses from a bearded man travelling along an inner thigh to a freshly waxed clitoris and that feeling can not be replicated (on your own time). Unless of course I am missing that line of sex toys.
Not just sexually, but the way a beard frames a man's face, the softness you feel when you hold on for a kiss.
And of course the neanderthal look makes my loins stir!
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Tall, dark and...

As a teenager, I had one type. I would go for tall, dark and handsome.
Something happened to alter this slightly in my twenties, my type was then dark, intelligent and attractive.
I love men. At times I find myself attracted to a man and have to question it, he might not be the type I go for, but my eyes cannot stop looking at his face.
I think now it's safe to say I don't have a type, well..., if I do it is: tall, short, lean, stocky, intelligent, attractive, funny, music-lover, sensual, sexy, silly, sensible, bearded, stubbly, fluffy, not to mention a good smile and engaging eyes.. To summarise? Hot-bloodied male!
Did I mention I could be contrary?!
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Monday, 9 November 2009

Long Live Decent Television Programming

Yes, another Daily Fail fuelled rant. Olivia Someone decided to have a go at True Blood, if I hadn't been sent the article this particular week maybe it would have passed me by with a mere tut.
"Sexually explicit: But True Blood can be accessed at any time by children via the internet"
With regards to children and teenagers watching television, surely this should be the responsibility of parents. I like to think that online content as a gift from a television heaven. At last! I can now actually watch what I want to before the watershed, and as all online television content (at least terrestrial channels) has parental control options, what is the problem?
I remember wanting to watch Grease when I was about twelve and was informed by my mother that it had adult themes and couldn't. *Gasp* When I did finally see it, we watched it together and she explained any adult content to me. I think she was a little embarrassed by the lack of boom boom, it was tamer than perhaps she recalled.
"Content that would have had viewers up in arms 15 years ago rarely causes concern today."
If I think back to what was on television when I was a teenager, off the top of my head I remember watching Band of Gold (prostitutes), Cracker (psychological violence) and X-files (supernatural) not to mention Eurotrash! With my best friends we would watch older films such as Pretty Woman (more prostitution), Dracula and The Lost Boys (more vampires), Singles, Dirty Dancing, Cocktail, (sex casually or within relationships) not to mention the coming of age films. We have always been intrigued by sex and/or vampires, add a decent soundtrack and we were truly smitten.
At the time, I had a television and the old family Betamax video recorder in my bedroom. Also, I remember my male peers swapping jazz mags and adult videos. The internet may have adult content all too easily find its way to teenagers but that's all, it's easier not new.
"As the tale unfolds, we learn there has been a horrifying reversal of events and that some humans, known as vampire drainers, like to drink the blood of vampires as it increases their strength, sexual appetite and performance."
What the fudge?! Is she completely oblivious to the symbolisation in the show?
Back to True Blood, if she had looked past the sex, it's damning to those with loose morals:
- The cast are God-fearing folk.
- Sookie - the strong female protagonist is a virgin way into her twenties, she doesn't tolerate foul language or thoughts.
- The promiscuous brother of Sookie is continually reprimanded for his foolish sleeping around. Actually every time he has sex, he seems to get arrested! He is literally guided by his cock, but berated for such behaviour. If he hadn't been so good looking *cough* erm... integral to the story, he would have easily been sacrificed in episode one as comeuppance.
- The male protagonist - Bill Compton: Quiet, brooding and mysterious; blood-sucking tendencies aside! Bill has the ability to love deeply, emotionally and physically. Caring, gentlemanly, he may be our last hope to revive chivalry.
- A selection of the Fang-bangers (those that have sex with vampires) get fatally punished for their heinous gallivanting.
"But a glance at our schedules reveals that sex, violence and vulgar language have become the staples that make up the British TV diet."
Channel 4 is showing True Blood after its success in the US and here in the UK first shown on a satellite channel. It wouldn't have been bought without having advertisers in place. Advertisers wouldn't have been on board is people were not going to watch it. It's entertainment, it's fantastical, it's escapism.
"There's oral sex, overt discussion of genitalia, graphic sex scenes bordering on the deviant, and foul language."
I feel like I am justifying myself. It is a parent's responsibility to explain sexual content, context of swearing and such, it's called preparing teenagers for life. In the real world, people have sex, people do use slang and swear words to express themselves. Considering her worry about teenage pregnancies, oral sex is an exciting alternative to penetrative sex!
Why does sex get such a bad name?
I lost my virginity at sixteen. I was in a relationship, we started with kissing, then petting to six months later reaching penetration. We were careful and talked maturely about making that decision. I was taking the pill and we used condoms. I didn't talk to my parents as we didn't have the birds and the bees chat until I was about 21! I did however speak with my peers, I had a group of eight of so female friends, three I was very close with.
Teenagers are always going to have sex, we can't stop that, l and thinking of ways to try and stop that is madness. What we need to do is educate them properly, without the stigma of embarrassment and of a no sex please, we're British attitude.
How about using the time and energy it took to complain about reasons that could or might be contributing to horny teenagers - did someone mention raging hormones?! - how about using that time to effectively communicate with them?
As such programming highlights sex to teenagers and actually has the ability to keep their normally short-lived concentration span - what a great opportunity to engage with them a conversation about sex, virginity and more importantly safe sex.
I'm not one to judge but if I was:
If she wants to talk about what is available to minors, look a little closer to home, no further than the Daily Mail's easy underage sister publication The Metro. Free to school kids using public transport completely unsupervised, always more than happy to show which celebrity has happened to let a nipple slip or showed her knickers accidental or otherwise.
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Questions not to ask or be asked by a casual lover

I had a copy of an old Weekend magazine lying around, open on a Q&A, we (stupidly) thought it would be fun to ask each other the below questions. He answered first, then me.
- When were you happiest? - What is your greatest fear? - What is your earliest memory? - Which living person do you most admire and why? - What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? - What is the trait you most deplore in others? - What was your most embarrassing moment? - What is your most treasured possession? - What would your super power be? - What makes you unhappy? - If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose? - What is your most unappealing habit? - What is the worst thing anyone's ever said to you? - What would you most like to wear to a costume party? - Cat or dog? - What is your guiltiest pleasure? - What or who is the greatest love of your life? - Have you ever said 'I love you' and not meant it? - Who would you invite to your dream dinner party? - What is the worst job you've ever done? - What has been your biggest disappointment? - If you could go back in time, where would you go? - How often do you have sex? - What single thing would improve the quality of your life? - What do you consider your greatest achievement? - What keeps you awake at night? - What song would you like played at your funeral? - What is the most important lesson life has taught you? - Where would you most like to be right now?
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My heart missed a beat, my cheeks blushed, my stomach pushed bile towards my throat.
I saw Obi-Wan Kenobi on the tube. I wasn't meant to be on the tube, at that station, anywhere near that time.
He looked the exactly the same yet completely different if that's possible. I immediately turned, knowing he wouldn't recognise the back of my head and got off at the next stop. I thought I was going to be sick.
So much time has passed and although I think of him often, I think it's more the romanticism of what if and of the relationship that never came to fruition.
I miss him, but I knowingly wonder if he is still attractive as I can't have him and the commitment phobe in me likes to seek out impossible scenarios.
What I need to remember is that as much as I adored him, he did annoy the shit out of me.
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This time last week I was a happy hair bunny. I had been planning to dye my hair and revitalise my look for the upcoming winter months.
Then came the damning hair appointment, I went in for a trim and came out with a franken-fringe, how very apt for Halloween.
Put together with the result of a kinky hair-pulling sesh, my hair now resembles a cross between frankenstein and a tufty duck; a franken-tufty-duck.
My hair grows pretty quickly but I have put the colour change on hold - there is no need to draw attention to the top of my head for the foreseeable future.
I apologise if I seem hair obsessive.
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Sunday, 8 November 2009

We undressed...

Last night, when Quiet boy and I undressed to our underwear, I find the time between underwear and naked an incredible turn on, him on me, us kissing, with the protection of one layer of cotton and one layer of lace.
As the kissing intensified, he slowly removed my knickers, another turn on. He sits up and slowly pulls down the material, starting with my buttocks, over the knees, nearly tickling the soles of my feet.
All the while, his eyes taking in my pussy, with his fingers, he traces the outline of where my knickers just moments before safeguarded my modesty, he knows I am aching for him to touch me, but takes his time circling.
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Quiet night in

Quiet boy and I had arranged to meet up last night for a quiet night in. By late afternoon, I was feeling anxious, after a full-on week, I wanted nothing more than a night with me, just me, a bath, and perhaps some of my favourite sex toys. I was drained mentally and emotionally and physically knackered.
When he called around half six, I was more than half hoping he was calling to cancel. He wasn't. He was checking what time, and he nearly sounded excited.
He arrived late, we picked up some wine and cuddled up on the safe for a [insert vomit here] couple-y evening.
Our conversation dominated over the television. I didn't want to initiate anything intimate, annoyingly he didn't either. After enough wine (that would be the first glass for me), I ended up telling his about my tense conversation with Jason and seeing Obi-Wan Kenobi. He seemed to be fine with the details, although he did question if I wanted to pursue Obi-Wan Kenobi - I said not.
Was I trying to push him away? Or was I highlighting what I thought about his commitment-free ideals.
Watching the recent French Lady Chatterley I commented how vocal the sex wasn't, just light panting and the occasional grunt. Little did I know that later this would be a reality for us.
We undressed to our underwear, kisses followed, then a multitude of mutual oral (we always kiss after oral - score!) with no climax for either of us, a quickie then sleep. I tried to slow the sex down but it was too late, his silence said it all. I nuzzled into his neck and realised that my words from the previous week "You do realise I hadn't come to climax..." had hit home more than I had intended and I couldn't take them back.
Around five in morning, I awoke to cuddles and an erection. He must be the first man in a long while that I haven't never minded the morning breath embrace. Spooning, he penetrated me, slowly at first, then hard and quick. He stopped, asked if had come, my answer was nearly. He sighed.
I had forgotten how nervous he was when we started seeing each other, his tolerance levels just needed to be built up!
We overslept, not waking until noon, so no morning sex. AND I LOVE MORNING SEX (and calm!). We parted for a day of respective errands and chores.
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