Tuesday, 13 April 2010

Time-out Three

After Time-out and Time-out Two, I repeat, I want a break from men:

I want a break from men!
I want a break from men!
I want a break from men!
I want a break from men!
I want a break from men!


I want sex!
I want sex!
I want sex!
I want sex!
I want sex!

Time-out Two

The morning after my time-out statement, I awoke fresh-faced with a spring in my step...  I then managed to have three dates in twice as many days.

Date one

I bumped into a man I used to work with, we were both busy for lunch, so met up for post-work drinks.  Without the colleagues that used to fuel our fire and more importantly conversation, there was awkward small talk, until he asked after my now ex-boyfriend.  Learning I was single excited him, and a night of passionate kissing followed.  In the cold-light of morning, I couldn't help thinking there was no loin-burning desire.

Date two

A bloke I was going to go out with before Christmas texted did I want to meet up?  I responded firmly with a "I've died in the time you said you were going to call...", this actually spurred a string of flirtatious texts.  As I arrived at the pub, I was greeted with kisses, one applied to each cheek.  Immediately I realised without being rip-roaringly drunk (as we had been post-Christmas) there was a void of any real chemistry.  Two drinks later and I was on a bus home.

(Post-)Date two

On the bus home I bumped into Jason.  He always looked pleased to see me and this time was no exception.  We fell back into old ways, and although I was oh-so-tired my body ached for a release, any release.

At mine, it was almost like being with a new lover, fresh skin.  His cock felt bigger in my hand, and all of sudden I remembered all the ways he liked to be touched.  We fucked twice.  The first time, hard and fast, the second, slowly, almost tantric.  After, however, I wanted to be on my own, to enjoy my post-orgasmic state, he asked if he could stay, of course he could?!

In the morning, as I was hoping there was time for a quickie, he jumped up, kissed me from head to toe and left, feeling a little frustrated!

(Non-)Date three

A quick catch up with an ex quickly became drinks, dinner and dancing.  As he looked into my eyes, I saw his pupils dilate and I was sure he was going to kiss me, but he didn't.  He stopped short.  I thought I was over this ex, but apparently not.

Is it just that he was one (of the ones) that got away? 


This time last week I announced a break from men.  All men.  What difference a day makes.

Tuesday, 6 April 2010

12 steps to princess poise - the Grace Kelly way

Monday, 5 April 2010

Ovum, we have a problem

Ever since I stopped taking the pill, I have occasionally suffered from spotting.  More so in the last few months.

I underwent a full sexual health MOT and was given the all clear.

My smear test was abnormal and so began endless, mostly fruitless testing.  The words can you strip from the waist have never been so easily received.  Blood tests, hormone samples, urine tests, ultrasounds, pelvic x-rays...  and still the examinations continue.

Whatever will be, will be.

Loud and rough

As I left Mr Smith that night, I felt tired.  Not just tired, exhausted, emotionally.

I grabbed a taxi across London to where one of my best friends was celebrating, I arrived to a ridiculously strong cocktail and a well-needed hug.  Within minutes she had disappeared to the dance floor.

The alcohol was slowly supped and I let it numb any negativity and within minutes I felt mellow although my friend had disappeared to the dance floor.

I bumped into an old colleague at the bar and the words 'I used to fancy you..' tumbled from my lips as if spoken by someone else.  I blushed (although this was probably more the rush from alcohol than anything...), the next hour was spent on foreplay, through dance, laughter, kissing and the occasional grope.

We went back to his, he looked older in the bright foyer lights, his face looked worn, in a good way.

In his bedroom, we spared no time, undressing immediately.  His penis was surprisingly large in my hands, as I gently stroked his shaft, I asked him how he wanted me to touch him, fast or slow, hard or soft.  Although it was evident that intercourse was going to be imminent.

I wanted to fuck, and be fucked.  I said as much, still trying to give the impression I was tipsy rather than drunk.  I asked if he had condoms, he did.

Using his headboard for balance, he penetrated me, doggy style.  I gasped as he entered me, the sex was energetic, loud and rough.  We managed to get into the perfect rhythm and every three or four thrusts he would clumsily thumb my clit.

As we collapsed on fresh linen, I kissed his nose, and fell asleep almost in tandem with the lights going out.

Sunday, 4 April 2010

Mr Smith and Just Friends

How predictable.

Mr Smith and I met up for premature birthday drinks, his not mine.  We did indeed have a brilliant night, we laughed our socks off and headed for one last drink in a candle-lit wine establishment.

I sat poised, he asked me not to freeze up.  I said I couldn't help it, I felt open and vulnerable.  He asked if we could go back to being just friends, he was in a better place and didn't or wouldn't think of me like that, he had turned it off.  The one drink did in fact turn out to be us sharing two bottles of red wine.

I asked if I suggested we booked a room in the hotel that we were in the shadow of, what would he say?  He said yes.  I gave him a knowing smile and tried to explain again that our friendship had never been innocent, I was tired of having the same conversation.

He caught his last train and I slipped into a taxi to meet friends.

Let's toast to just friends.

Four bottles of wine and a wedding

Maybe it has something to do with watching Four Weddings and a Funeral but I feel ready for marriage, with the right person that is.

I feel like I am now in the right place in my life where I could commit, give love and share my life with someone.