About Me


Subscribe: RSS for blog RSS for comments

Facebook icon and link Twitter icon and link Flickr icon and link Qik icon and link Dopplr icon and link
MySpace icon and link MyBlogLog icon and link Technorati icon and link Tumblr icon and link Blogger icon and link

friend me on Facebook
follow me on Twitter
view my photos on Flickr
watch my videos on Qik
find me on Dopplr
join my MySpace
check my MyBlogLog
my Technorati profile
view my Tumblr
my Blogger profile
Blog RSS feed
Comments RSS feed

Recent posts

Drunk Blogging: Food for thought Out bar-hopping ...
Stupid is as stupid does Another late night blo...
Drunk Blogging: Boys boys boys Another night, a...
Drunk Blogging: Girls girls girls I do try not ...
Panic After having my Blogroll code lifted from...
I love Cock... ...
I've still got it Every woman knows how it feel...
My Dilemma An old fuck buddy of mine has recent...
Sex shop shopping: some rules Based on my exper...
Things I miss with SP Him cooking me breakfast ...

Places to shop and visit

My Top 10 Toys - Women
My Top 10 Toys - Men
My Top 10 Toys - Couples
Fleshlight UK
Durex's Ora!

Sunday, December 19, 2004

I don't trust myself

I was that close to calling SP this evening and asking if I could fuck him, or at the very least have some heated phone sex. It's been a very difficult day for me, I feel so hormonally challenged, I can barely concentrate.

I knew I was in for trouble today. Whilst watching a Marx Bros double bill, I should have been fully enjoying the hysterical antics of Groucho, Harpo and Chico, but instead I was imagining SP's cock in my mouth and was tempted to nip off to the loo for a quick fiddle. But, as some of you may know, I love funny men, and I was damned if I was gonna let some (major) horniness prevent me from getting my full-rib-tickingly-eye-watering-laughs that these quality films provide. In fact I think if Groucho were alive today (and in his thirties), I'd be doing my utmost to track down his number and ask him out on a date. What a sharp, intelligent, witty man...

Anyway, I digress. SP. He's been on my mind again recently, probably as a result of seeing him last week. And no, before any conclusions are hastily jumped to, all clothes were left on and no sex occurred. This wasn't due to any willpower on my (or his) part I should add; more that both of us were visiting our friend in hospital and we only had a few minutes alone in each other's company. Though thinking about it, that would have still been long enough for us to sneak off to the toilets for a quick one, but I'm grateful that we both behaved amicably and with restraint.

So we chatted, said we would meet for dinner sometime, hugged each other and it all seemed good. You know, closure, moving on, being able to be 'friends' without always jumping each others bones. I had ignored his eyeing me up and flirting with me all evening and just put it down to me looking damn fine and immensely shaggable (ok, I admit it, I had made an effort, knowing SP would be there, but every woman wants her ex - especially if he was the one to say he's "not ready to commit yet" - to see her looking good and think to himself 'Damn! What's wrong with me? She's gorgeous!') Anyway, we're all friends lalala and then he goes and crosses the boundary again. Not in a huge way, but enough. As we were saying goodbye, he reached in towards me and an inch or so below my breasts, he gave me a little squeeze with his knuckles. Not a grand gesture I agree. But it was something he used to do to me, before he kissed my neck, or stroked my breasts and it was intimate enough to let me know that

a) he still wants to shag me
b) we are not really just friends
c) I am his / he thinks he can still have me

Let me clarify that last point. I am single. I don't belong to anyone. But pinching me like that on my abdomen wasn't about him showing me what a good friend he is, or even that he was horny (a slap on my arse normally sufficed for that). No, it was about him showing me that he can still get in 'there' (me, my head, someplace private, more private that just fucking me) and it is this which has confused me and pissed me off.

And knowing that I still want to shag him rotten makes it all the harder to enforce these boundaries; to have been able to say to him when he did that

"Stop that SP. What are you doing?"

would have required some strength on my part. I am ashamed to say that the only thing on my mind at that moment was how much I wanted to reach my hand in between his legs, feel his cock and rub him through his jeans. It wasn't until later that my mind came back into focus and I thought 'what a fucker', and came up with things I should have said to him at the time.

Fast forward to today. Horny as hell and not thinking clearly at all. I started justifying shagging him again to myself:

"It doesn't need to mean anything"
"You just want some good sex"
"SP and you have fantastic, mind-blowingly-awesome sex"
"How often in your life do you get that?"
"He would be a brilliant fuck-buddy"
"You could experiment in ways you can't yet imagine and feel safe"
"You'd get a LOT of orgasms (and wank fodder for later)"

and you know, when I look at it like that, it seems only logical to call him, go round there, stick his cock inside me, have some fun (lots), crash out, have breakfast made for me, then go home. And repeat 4-6 weeks later. It would be fine, right?

Wrong. Pre-SP, it would have been a breeze. I had become expert at detatching my emotions from intimacy, no man could hurt or offend me, I took opportunities when they presented themselves to me, could have mind-blowing sex with whomever I pleased without wanting or expecting follow-on calls. And have lots of fun, without the emotional bullshit and turmoil that I constantly see my female friends going through. And to some extent this is still true. I don't feel dirty or cheap having sex and I don't need to be in love to have an orgasm with someone.

But. Then there was SP. And with him, I learned to break down that wall of mine and open up, emotionally, mentally, even physically. I suppose I learned to love again. It was a big thing for me (hence 74.8% of my blog contains posts about SP) and I have learned a lot about myself in the process. And I have remembered what it is like to make love with someone. And I miss that terribly. No night of 20+ orgasms can really beat that. It's something magic, and romantic and all that soppy bullshit but fuck it, it's true. And having had that with SP (as fucked up as it was), I think it's nigh on impossible for me to just be able to fuck him now. Sure I could shag him rotten, not reciprocate his physical intimacy, and leave first thing in the morning (and I have), but I know that at some point, maybe three days, maybe a week, I would want to speak to him or see him again. And not just because I wanted another taste of the good stuff - but because I missed him.

And this is why I cannot sleep with him again: I guess I am more fragile than I realise when it comes to matters of the heart. I need to move on and not be tempted to have sex with him, and right now - horniness ruling my head/heart/pussy - I am not sure if I can do that. I don't trust myself. But I hope that I find some inner strength from somewhere (probably containing 2 x AA batteries), before I do do something I will regret...

designed by one man