Just got back from a week of beautiful English countryside, torrential rain and regular booze-ups in the crew hotel. Too knackered to update properly - I will do that in full tomorrow.

Since my stupid hours at work recently have left me feeling frustrated, bored and increasingly horny, I decided to pleasure myself in the following ways:

1) Buy some music (a) - Catching up with old stuff: Travis, Stereophonics, Blur, Jet.
(b) - Pre-ordering new stuff: Maroon 5, Graham Coxon, The Streets, Keane.

2. Buy a (replacement for my stolen) CD walkman so that when I (get time to) go to the gym, I will be all pumped up and energised for my 5-6 mile run, listening to the above. (Please note that I only purchase items from top quality shops, ahem)

3. Watch some television (for the first time in a month): 'England Expects', a great drama with Steven Mackintosh that I taped a while back. It feels weird sitting in a chair watching the tv for two whole hours; I am so used to standing for 16 hours a day, anything else just feels odd...

4. Giving myself time to play: I came back from a nightshoot yesterday at 7am, horny as hell, and fell asleep with my hand between my legs. I was so tired I can't even remember if I climaxed; it all felt good though. And when I woke some 6 hours later, I had the most glorious 30 minute fiddle thinking about B. He is still the most popular frig material that I use to get off.. Maybe its all in my mind - whatever it is, my (self-induced) climaxes involving him are very explosive...

5. Giving in to my desires: I need sex bad. It's all well and good using my hand/s, toys etc, but I need a man. A cock to be more specific. I want the heat, the sweat, the hardness, the wetness, the passion, the 'thinking you are going blind' when you climax, that can only come from a good, hard fuck.

NB: It's 2am and B (Mr Low-sex drive/ soft-cock from last week) just texted me "hello, what are you up to" - what the fuck?!

Ten rushed minutes in the toilets today...
Unfortunately not spent playing. I was just trying to get a few minutes kip, so I could function with some level of intelligence the rest of the afternoon...

I know I am becoming repetitive regarding the extent of my state of tiredness; I feel robbed of the ability to express myself in a coherent way. Plus, all these long hours are playing havoc with my sex drive: I am too knackered to fiddle at night or in the morning, yet during the day, I am crazy horny, but don't have the damn time to get busy with my fingers, grr. Looks like I'll have a lot of catching up to do this weekend...

Thought for the day:
The obviously 'dressed to the left' cock of one of the actors' - a lovely sight. He has a beautiful body and a beautiful bulge. I found myself gazing into his crotch area constantly today, imagining what it would be like to rip off his costume and get his cock deep in my mouth...

Tired...

It's only Monday and I am already:

Too tired to eat
Too tired to read
Too tired to write emails
Too tired to call my friends and chat
Too tired to watch TV
Too tired to listen to music (even that lovely Jet song)
Too tired to fuck (even if there was a goddamn sexy man in my bed with a rock-hard cock)
Too tired to blog
Too tired to wank (ok, I will attempt a quick play, but I wouldn't be surprised if I fell asleep halfway through)

I plan to get at least 6 hours sleep tonight (a relative lie-in!) and (hopefully) have a good old Orchid Grind at some point tomorrow...

Having a minature crisis today; my life seems to solely consist of:

Waking up tired
Thinking about sex
Wanking
Going to work
Thinking about sex
Talking about sex
Wanking
Driving home
Thinking about sex
Wanking
Not having enough time to get to the gym
Being too tired or not having enough time to wank
Attempting to wank
Sleeping

Something is missing: apart from the obvious (no time for a social life; the cinema; current affairs etc), I am bored of coming home to an empty bed...

An early(ish) finish - only 14 hours today - so time for a quickie...

Where I am currently at:

1) The gym: still love running. Very upset that I can only get on a treadmill once or twice a week, due to the hours I work. I haven't been to the gym for 10 days now. Gutted.
2) The cinema: the last film I saw was 21 Grams: a great film, but not the Saturday night escapism that I needed. Have a huge wishlist of movies to see right now, not able to see any of them.
3) Current affairs: I have practically given up trying to stay on top of world events. I read The Guardian on Saturday and attempt to catch up. It's so weird having no idea about what's happening on the planet.
4) Reading: Started reading Brass by Helen Walsh; seems good so far. Too tired to look at any words on paper most nights; the only thing I read regularly is the Callsheet.
5) Writing: So far, no fantastic Hollywood-bound feature films scripts have come out of my brain and splurged themselves onto the page. The only thing I have written in 4 months is this blog. And, lets face it, it's pretty one-track-minded - not exactly broadcast material...
6) Sex. Still can't get enough of it. Or thinking about it. I have been trying to remember when I became so fixated by it, but I cannot recall a time when I was ever bored by sex, or not into it, or didn't think about it.

I am an addict...

...of Blogging that is...

I must be mad: a 16 hour day, just got home, I have to be up for work again in less than 6 hours and I feel compelled to blog.

Maybe it's because I am pre-menstrual right now, making me crazily horny all this week. I guess this would explain my stooping to the B situation...

And after all that, he couldn't even keep his erection...

B came round tonight. It all started off well: within minutes I was kneeling on the floor, B on my couch with his jeans round his ankles and his cock in my mouth. I took regular swigs from my glass of Ouzo so that his cock would tingle from the mintyness of it in my mouth. B seemed like he was in heaven, breathing so fast, grinding his hips against my mouth, grabbing my breasts to rub against his rock-hard cock while he groaned loudly. And I was loving it.

We swapped positions and he pushed my legs up over his head, kneeling down on the floor to lick and suck me. He stuck three fingers inside me and thrust them back and forth and with his other hand squeezed my tits. I was in absolute heaven and didn't last very long: I shuddered when I saw him start to play with himself and I pushed myself into his face so he could stick his tongue inside me. Lovely.

But then the problems started. We moved into my bedroom, I got out some new lube to try out on him and carried on sucking him. After a while we got a condom and he entered me. Straightaway he said he was gonna cum, so I asked him to stop moving so it would give me time to catch up. A moment later I started sliding up and down his cock, but then he lost his erection and he pulled out of me. I whipped the condom off and sucked his soft cock. It took a while to get a response, but eventually he reached for another condom. And he lost it with number two within seconds. Now I know some guys have problems with condoms (and that has included B previously), so I suggest trying out one of my female condoms (more sensation for the guy I believe). We try that and for a moment, it all looks good: he is thrusting away inside me, I am wet as hell and minutes away from climaxing. And then he pulls out again, apologises for his lost erection and we lie next to each other cuddling.

I won't pretend to you lot that I wasn't disappointed. Of course I was: It's been a couple of months since we shagged and I wanted him to be so damn hard that I would get fucked properly by him. And I was lying there with a soaking wet pussy that needed filling up. But I am not such a bitch as to not be sympathetic to someone's feelings or ego. And when B told me that "it's not happening tonight, I'm sorry" and asked me if I was angry (!) with him or disappointed, I lied and said 'no' and told him to 'relax', 'not to worry about it', that I was having fun and that it didn't matter to me either way. And I stroked his chest and back and kissed him gently on his mouth and hands. And we lay there for a while.

A little later I grabbed his hand, slid his fingers between my legs so he could feel how wet I was, and told him I was minutes away from climaxing. And he removed his fingers and got out of my bed. Then he said he was going to be 'making moves', and that hopefully he'd have 'better luck next time'.

His behaviour doesn't surprise me, but it does annoy me. I suggested that he stay to finish me off with his hands or tongue - even if he wasn't feeling horny any more. He declined. I called him selfish. And he left. And I was left to use my own hand to bring myself off (admittedly whilst thinking about his cock rubbing against me).

A waste of time for all concerned I guess. Will I never learn?

Some observations:

1) Rentboy has an interesting theory about clitoral sensitivity and (vaginal) lip size. I think he may be on to something there - any ladies care to comment?

2) On pleasuring men: Fellatio

3) On pleasuring women (thanks to Bacchus): Cunnilingus 1 and 2

4) That the more I play (4 times today so far), the more intense my climaxes are. And that's without the use of my favourite vibrator I might add.

5) A guy getting fucked by his own cock.

6) Whilst waxing/plucking/trimming my (pretty much hair-free, ahem) bikini line today I noticed that the tips of my hairs down there were pale blond. Now, I am a brunette (all over). Any theories about this?

Update on B:

Almost midnight and he texts me:

"You awake?"

I was going to ignore his text, but I was curious whether he thought I would let him come over so late, so I responded:

"Falling asleep (liar). Where are you?"

B: "At home, naked, wishing you were here with my dick right up inside you".

Me: (as if on cue, my pussy throbbing)"Well, if you come over tomorrow you can slide your cock right into me. I am wet now thinking about it."

Now, any normal man would respond with something along the lines of: I am gonna fuck you so hard with my cock; I am gonna lick your pussy til you come etc etc. Or, they would just dial my number and have a quick phone-sex session. Not B. His response:

"Hope to make it over, sleep well."

I imagine that on receipt of my above text, he climaxed, and then wanted nothing else to do with talking dirty. Either that or he is a freak. Anyway, his response pissed me off so I texted him back:

"You scared to see me again?"

B: "No? Why would you say that?"

Me: "Well then, lets make an arrangement to fuck the living daylights out of each other, rather than a vague 'sometime'".

B then makes some feeble excuse about having to go visit his parents tomorrow and because I know he's lied to me before about being busy and unable to make a date to shag, I text him back:

"Yup, we all have busy lives... I am free tomorrow evening: if you call me before 7, you may get lucky..."

And of course B didn't respond to that. He is incapable of committing to a prior arrangement; the only agreement that he can make is with his cock: if he gets hard thinking about me, then he wants to see me NOW. Otherwise, he is a fucking dead loss.

Why do I want to fuck him again?

B texted me yesterday, asked how I was doing, and how the film was going. We politely chatted back and forth for a few texts, but I soon lost patience with the idle chit chat and decided to cut to the chase:

"So how's that sexy body of yours?"

B: "Still sexy!"

Me: I think I'll have to be the judge of that by stripping off all your clothes and taking a proper look myself."

B: "May have to pop round for a good old workout some time soon..."

Me: "I am off til Tuesday: that gives you the next three days to get my wet lips and tongue around that big cock of yours. Sound good?"

B: "Very good."

Me: "Good. You know my number. Just don't call me when you're drunk: I want you to feel everything I am going to do to you."

And I haven't heard from him since. I am beginning to think B really is a crap fuck-buddy - he gets offered regular blow jobs, no-strings attached sex (not to mention an MMF threesome with his mate) from me and he doesn't bother to respond. Other lovers I have had love my directness, and will jump in a train/car/cab to see me. Not B. Yawn. If it wasn't for the fact that he has such a beautiful cock (that I endlessly fantasise about), I would have ended this situation a long time ago...

Been thinking about my American lover DK recently, as a result of his emailing me earlier this week.

What I love so much about DK, is his passion for eating pussy. He adores it. He worships it. He would be quite happy to be down there all night. And what turns me on, is seeing how hard he gets from doing it.

I am more than happy to just suck or fuck him straightaway (he has a gorgeous big cock, and is always trimmed and clean), but DK wants to lick me all night. Last time I saw him, when we got back to my place from a club:

Me: "Are you hungry?"

DK: "Yeah, can I get something to eat?"

Me: "What would you like"

DK: "What you got?"

Me (looking in my cupboard): "Um, not much, bread, pasta..." I turn to face him.

DK (looking at me slyly): "Hmm, what about something meatier?" He lowers his gaze and levels between my legs.

Me: "Oh."

DK walks up to me, pulls down my trousers and kneels beneath me. He then proceeds to deliver me the most lavish tongue licking I have ever had. What a guy...

He's over in France next week for work: I am trying to convince him to Eurostar it over here for a night of passion with me. Damn, I am hot just thinking about it...

A quick one...

I will update tomorrow when I have slept - I've only had 18 hours sleep in the last 5 days, so am not able to write anything remotely coherent...

Except to say, yesterday I briefly lost my sex drive and actually didn't think about sex all day...

But I have since found it again - phew! - so no cause for concern thank god; I am off to bed now to make up for lost time...

Goodnight x

Thought for the day:

Am I a nymphomaniac because I think about sex all the time?

Or do I need to be having sex all the time to qualify?