I am beginning to wonder whether all the exercise I am doing is having an effect on my levels of horniness. There has been a noticeable decrease in recent days of hand between the legs action. This appears to be in direct correlation to an increase in the frequency and intensity of my running. I managed to run 40 minutes non-stop yesterday afternoon and haven't had the desire to fiddle once since then.

Is it possible that regular physical exertion releases sexual tension and decreases the appetite? Should I be worried by this?

Had a great session at the gym today: 37 minutes non-stop running on the treadmill (and 15 minutes walking too). My endurance is getting better and better and I am finally beginning to feel fit. And my calves and thighs are looking damn fine too, which is lovely. Am getting closer to my target of 60 minutes - I want to be able to train my muscles to react like a long-distance runner rather than the 100m sprinters. I like having big powerful muscles, but I think the leanness of marathon runners may be better for my health in the long term...

I actually managed not to think about sex once while I was running, which is an achievement for me. I was totally focused on feeling the burn. But afterwards, this cute gym instructor showed me some back strengthening exercises and I found myself flirting outrageously with him. While he was on the bench press I was noticing how his tufts of chest hair poked sexily out of the top of his t-shirt; when he was on the inflatable ball, I saw how perfectly curved his ass was; and when he was doing chin-ups, I could see how the bulge in his jogging pants filled out the space nicely. Mmm. He will certainly give me something to think about when I am in there next - I may have to go tomorrow as well as the day after...

Went to see Lost In Translation last night with my friend JN. An interesting movie, some great dialogue and a lovely understated performance from the central characters Bill Murray and the gorgeous Scarlett Johansson. Felt a little uncomfortable with the undertow of racism in the film and with the slowness of the piece, found myself getting sidetracked (there goes my one-track mind), but I will still be rooting for Sofia Coppola to win the Oscar. Only three women have ever been nominated for Best Director: none have won. It's about time.

It's great going out with JN. He's an old friend and as we did the sex thing many years ago there's no longer any sexual tension between us. We just watch movies, get drunk and talk about sex. I can talk more openly with him about sex than with any of my female friends; he doesn't judge me and always has advice for me. In fact JN has been instrumental in opening my eyes to the whole swinging scene and he was the one who took me to my first ever sauna a few months ago.

So last night was no different. We drank some beers, dissected the movie and gossiped about our sex lives. He's still surfing the web seeking his 'ultimate' in couple encounters (a young submissive sexy male and female who want him to join them regularly). And I'm still obsessed with having my first threesome with two guys - specifically R and B. JN's advice was to wait and see if B contacts me and then to invite him along with R to have some fun. He said under no circumstances should I call B and suggest it: I think he's right. I can imagine feeling pretty shitty afterwards if the whole thing was set up by me; I want to be able to maintain my pride and dignity - even in the face of some hardcore fun.

Which leaves me with a big imagination, one hot pussy and a multitude of AA batteries needed to sustain me until further notice...

I really should be trying to get myself to sleep now, so that my body clock will be ready to start work in a few weeks. I should be surrounding myself with calm thoughts, dimmed lights and peaceful music. Instead I find myself thinking about hot, sweaty and passionate sex. I figure that maybe getting a few thoughts down in my blog might switch my attention for a while - ahem...

It doesn't seem to be helping. Currently I am obsessing over the thought of having a threesome with R and B. I cannot get it out of my head. I was even tempted today to call B and ask him to fix it up. If he wasn't such an ass, and R wasn't seeing someone, my fingers would have dialled B's digits already. This is the first time that I have been offered a three-way with two guys where (a) they are comfortable with each other and (b) I am attracted to both of them.

I wonder just how much pride I am willing to sacrifice for (what I know would be) some damn fine sex? This is what I am finding so difficult. By retaining my dignity and therefore passing up on this opportunity now, will I regret it in years to come...?

I can't believe the levels I am willing to stoop to in order to satisfy my hunger. Earlier I found myself perusing my mobile, looking to see who I could call on to fill my need. I actually had to physically restrain myself (well, have two quick fiddles to relieve the tension) so that I didn't resort to calling up B or some other has-been ex or old flame. Thanks to my (new-found and ever increasing) willpower, I still have my dignity thank god - but my vibrators are taking a bashing at the moment.

So, current news: I had a nice chat with DN again tonight. He's still as horny for me as ever, even with the girlfriend in tow. If there wasn't 100 odd miles between us I'm sure we would have had some fun together by now. Even with the distance I quite like the idea that he gets off on looking at pictures of me; its definitely a mutual attraction...

Speaking of mutual heat, I did get to see R again finally. And he was as cute as I remember him. And there was still chemistry between us. And he's now seeing somebody. Dammit. Just my luck. I can't stop thinking about him, its so frustrating. I want him bad. Oh well, onwards and upwards. Next!

Maybe I am getting lazy, or perhaps because I have been using them a lot, my hands have been getting tired recently. Whatever the reason, I have rediscovered the pleasures of my toys in the last few days. Last night I had a joyous two-hour session with my cute double-headed vibe. What a glorious delight that was. I was thinking about R's hand inside me which got me so excited I had to resort to putting both heads in the one hole; a slightly painful, but oh so pleasurable experience...

Speaking of toys, I wish I could try out a cock ring on a guy. It would be so damn sexy to watch him use it...

My one track mind seems to be becoming decidedly singular in its tastes right now. It's only been R occupying my thoughts over the last few days; he has managed to get me off within a few (very sweaty, out of breath and heated) minutes (on numerous occasions) and I've only met the guy once! I guess all his talk about swinging and his male-male experiences, as well as the ones with trannies have wetted my appetite (and my pants). I love that he is open-minded like that - I wish more guys were. The thought of sharing him with another guy is like a dream come true to me, I can't get the thought out of my head. A threesome with him would be awesome I know...

So I've decided to go visit him at the pub where he works this weekend. I will go with a female friend JS for cover. Unfortunately she is very narrow minded when it comes to passions of the flesh; if I told her why I really want to see R she would freak out. So, best actress face on: R is a 'friend' and I am 'saying hello to him' and we are going there for 'a quiet drink'. Yup, that'll do it. Hopefully JS will be none the wiser, and R will see the glint in my eye and give me something to look forward to...

So I went to see Big Fish with my friend A who loved it; I'm not so into magical realism - give me a sci-fi or thriller anyday. I did enjoy some of the humour though, but for me the test of how good a film is, is whether or not I start thinking about sex during it. And low and behold, my mind was wandering.

After the movie we wandered round Soho and ended up drinking White Russian cocktails in a bar. The conversation turned to men and sex (as it does) and we swapped stories of our latest flings. I decided to test the water with A a little and talk about my interest in being submissive, as first experienced with B. As expected, her response was that she "liked 'normal' sex and why was I wanting to do something that disempowered me?" She raised her eyebrows when I mentioned spanking, riding crops and handcuffs and when I talked about fisting, anal sex and double penetration I realised I had better change the subject pretty damn quick as her eyes were the size of saucers.

And now I feel like some kind of kinky freak. Am I attracted to misogynistic assholes (like B) because they seem to offer me the thrill of being dominated? Does a guy need to be an asshole (cocky, arrogant, outgoing) to be able to fulfill my fantasy? Should I be acting on this desire to be submissive or does it contradict my feminist principles? Do I have a false consciousness about my sexuality? Jesus, it seems so complicated. Surely I am just an enlightened woman interested in exploring different ways to enjoy sex?!

I look forward to the day where I meet someone who is my equal, my friend, my lover. Who can dominate me in bed and allow me to act out my submission fantasies. And also be happy with the roles reversed. Who has the same (or higher, please god) sex drive as me. Who is open-minded about swinging (both ways ideally). Who believes that safe sex is good sex (and can still be rock hard with a condom on - very rare it seems these days). And who knows the difference between making love and fucking and is good and happy at doing both. Yeah right. Like he exists. Dream on...

Well J did call me. But he missed my 24 hour deadline - by 90 minutes. So I invited my friend A to go to the preview with me instead. J seemed disappointed and a little surprised to be turned down, but hey, he took 26 hours to reply to my invite - with no valid excuse for the delay I might add - so sod him. Anyway, he suggested we go see another movie next week - I won't hold my breath waiting for his call...

Am still thinking about R. Very tempted to go and see him. There was definitely some chemistry between us when I met him and my fantasies about him have increased in their intensity over the last few days. I am eager to find out if he is as tactile in real life as he is in my head. He's certainly got my blood pumping in fantasy...

Am unfortunately in a place called "All men are bastards". After that night a few days ago where I was talking with J and he was really eager to get my number and arrange a movie meet, I decided today to call him. I have two tickets to a preview of Tim Burton's new movie 'Big Fish' later this week and thought I would invite him to join me. So, I called his phone (which rang ten times and then went to voicemail) and left a message. It's now almost 7 hours later and I've had no answer.

Ok, I know I may be jumping to (neurotic) conclusions regarding the lack of response from him; he may not have got the message yet, he may be busy, unable to call back etc. But, my gut feeling says different - and I am usually right. I sense that he is a timewaster. If I haven't heard from him within the next 24 hours he can fucking forget about it...

Apart from J, I've actually been thinking about R (B's friend) quite a lot, (though in a much more explicit way). He's been a lovely wake up call for me the last few days; I'm almost tempted to go and see him and let him know that, thanks to him, I've broken my 5 minute record by 1 minute!

Found a funny site about wet men, worth looking at even if only for the pics of David Boreanaz. Mmm...

Strange how the mind works when it comes to fantasy. There I was this morning, enjoying auditioning the finger puppets and thinking about J the cute guy I met last night. I was in the throes of passion, getting close to the point of no return when suddenly B pops into my head. I tried to shift my attention back to the J scenario (me on my knees sucking him off), but B just wouldn't get out of my brain and before I knew it he was taking me from behind and I was exploding in ecstasy, shaking like a leaf all over my bed.

What is wrong with me? You'd think I'd be able to focus my fantasies on one person - someone that I actually like; why the fuck I am still getting off on B? And how dare he interrupt my time with J?! Damn my screwed up brain - or to be more specific: damn the fact that B still makes my pussy sing. It's about time it learned some new tunes me thinks...

I am proud of myself. I met a guy tonight. And he was cute. And there was alcohol in my system. And I am pre-menstrual. And it has been a while since I've had a shag. But I behaved like a real lady.

I limited my eye contact to his upper torso only. I didn't constantly bat my eyelids and throw my head back laughing at his jokes. I didn't playfully grasp his arm and squeeze it. I didn't lead the conversation into a sexual subject matter. And I didn't end up at his place fucking the living daylights out of him. All of which are a step forwards for me.

In fact we talked non-stop about movies: we share the same taste in cinema (sci-fi, action, thrillers, fantasy - though he also likes romantic comedies - yuck), and we both work in the industry. We talked, laughed and swapped stories for ages. And I realised I was having a normal conversation with a lovely guy and that I wasn't flirting my ass off with him. Of course I found myself thinking about him naked (hey, I'm only human), but I didn't let that overwhelm me or alter the tone of the conversation.

So we swapped numbers and agreed to meet and go see a movie. And I am happy with that. Kind of excited actually. It's something new for me, this 'friendship' lark. It may be fun to get to know this guy for a while, see if we have as much in common minus the whisky doubles... I imagine that I will find it hard to not shag him, since I quite like him; maybe I need to see this as a test of my willpower over my sex drive?

What is it with guys and being unfaithful? Not that I think monogamy is right for everyone: its just that I would expect people in the 'honeymoon' period of their relationship (ie the first 6 months) to limit their sexual explorations to that one person - even in fantasy.

Not so in DN's case. We chatted online tonight (him horny as ever, me satisfied and smug after two sessions with the old vibrator) and he was literally begging me to fuck him. And he is recently attached. And he said he was happy. And he said 'I love you' to her recently, so go figure.

To my credit (well I think so) I turned down the offer of cyber sex with him (so frustrating, so hard to type with one hand and sticky fingers) much to DN's disappointment. It ended up with him sending me (live) pictures of him getting sucked off by his vacuum cleaner (explanation of activity detailed in another blog below). I guess it looks much hotter in real life; I got bored halfway through and had to go get something to eat. Some sex fiend I am...

Joined a gym today, just for a month before I start work again. Tried it out last week, very nice, but not as plush as the one with all the cute guys. Oh well, better to burn the fat I guess: no distractions so my mind will be more focused and I will be able to concentrate on my workout.

Had a great run today, 31 minutes non-stop running on the treadmill - beat my 2 day-old record by one minute, which I know is nothing - but its an achievement for me. I want to get to the point where I can run for an entire hour burning loads of fat, be pouring with sweat and get a fucking headrush at the end of it.

Did the whole swim, spa, sauna and steam too today, which was pretty relaxing, am starting to feel like a lady of leisure! Afterwards I went to stroke some cats at the Cats Protection League which was lovely. Of course the cats there (rescued, strays etc) are grateful for the attention, but I also get an enormous sense of peace by giving them a cuddle. Wish I could adopt some; its just not possible with the hours I work, plus I don't have access to a garden...

Speaking of playing with pussies: I am wondering whether 3 times a day can be considered normal. I know I am pre-menstrual and therefore temporarily hormonally challenged, but I'm sure that other women (and maybe even men for that matter) don't end up flexing their fingers that often. I hope I get my period soon, I am beginning to worry that I might do something rash like calling B for a shag. Willpower!

30 minutes of exhaustion, my heart pounding away, my breath quickening. Sweat enveloping my entire body, slowly dripping between my shoulder blades down the curve of my back. I could hardly see by the end of it such was the exertion, but when it was over, my mind was clear and I felt like a woman again.

I am of course talking about my workout at the gym today. 30 minutes running (over 2 1/2 miles) non-stop, my best ever endurance yet. Felt like I was flying in my new Asics trainers, the bounce back from them was great. And I felt wonderful afterwards, the endorphins rushing through my head were almost like being in a post-coital bliss...

Speaking of which, today has been something of a hormonally challenged one for me - I almost didn't make it to the gym, such was my level of desire. Had to have a play twice before I left the house and even then I felt like Niagara Falls down below. Reckon I must be entering my pre-menstrual stage: uh oh - watch out London! Maybe I should visit the gym daily for the next week or so - work off some of that heat...

I am weak. After everything I have said this week, I am a hypocrite. B called me today. All my planning and preparation for this inevitability couldn't stop me answering the phone. As I picked it up, I regretted it: he was in a local pub, drunk as usual, wanted to come round.

Thankfully, by some strange act of fate, I had minutes before only just finished having a mid-afternoon play, so at that moment not ruled by my hormones, I was able to turn him down. He seemed disappointed and I was jubilant; I had won! My willpower and determination not to succumb to my desires had proved I had strength and self-worth and I knew I didn't need him.

And then... I spent the next hour in a battle between my rational mind and my hungry pussy. I knew that B would be nothing but trouble, plus he was drunk so the amount of fun I would have had would have been limited. But remembering his cock and his lovely chest made me want him even more and the hunger started to devour me. I found myself jumping in the shower, slathering on the coconut body cream, and setting aside a cute little brown skirt to wear.

Of course I wanted to shag him rotten again, but another part of me wanted him to see me looking stunningly sexy and to be able to turn him down face to face - a kind of ultimate rebuttal for him and ultimate in self-respect for me. So, being a masochist (and a weak-willed sex fiend), I decided to call him and no amount of willpower was able to stop me.

I asked him if he was still local and if so to meet for a drink. Thankfully he had gone home already and I said goodbye. I hate myself for giving in and phoning him, but I am also glad I stood my ground and turned him down when he called me. I've got to be strong and remember that I deserve better than the crap that B offers me; even if my pussy is singing his praises...

On a better note, in search of my ultimate goal (to be superfit with a hard body) I got some new running shoes today. Will try them out on the treadmill tomorrow - can't wait, I am so excited!

Well it seems that all is well with the world again. No cause for concern, everything has reverted back to its rightful position. The equilibrium of the planet has been restored.

I am pleased to report that contrary to my (slightly neurotic) anxiety (see below), nothing is wrong with me. My session last night was a brief 8 minutes and this morning, a leisurely 15. My head is clear again and I finally feel normal!

It was a great fantasy last night involving B - me in a miniskirt, no underwear, him with a stonking hard-on and a willing tongue - I haven't climaxed that hard in a while. Ironic that B could never made me come like that in real-life...

Tried out another gym today. Quite a good place - 2 floors of cardiovascular equipment, loads of free weights, air conditioned etc. Very plush. Just shows what local councils can achieve with private finance involved - and they are running the place as a charity - so politically I guess I support it. Anyway, wasn't really thinking about the ethics of the place while I was in there; I was concentrating on burning fat, and I managed to run for 25 minutes non-stop which I am pleased about. My stamina is getting stronger, my determination more focused and my energy levels are increasing.

All good, especially as my sleep was so crap last night. Yet again I tried to go to bed at a 'normal' time. Planned a brief night in with the girls and an early night. But there was a problem: it took me a whole hour before I finally was able to get the release I needed to send me off to sleep. An hour! Something must be wrong with me - I used to be the queen of the 5 minute climax, which, it has to be said, I have occasionally found embarrassing in intimate situations. In fact the only time I have ever faked anything about orgasms is when I have pretended that I haven't come.

Anyway, since meeting B, my ability to climax quickly has diminished somewhat. Not sure why this is, the sex we had was pretty hot, (even though he was a selfish pig). I hope to god this isn't a permanent fixture in my life - I miss my morning (ok, and evening too) quickies! If it comes down to a choice between sleeping longer or having self-pleasure, I know which one I would choose, and even if it means I only get a few hours each night, being unconscious doesn't even come a close second...

NB: First ever blog, first ever week. Happy anniversary to me. And you dear readers x

Finally saw the third part of Lord of the Rings today. What a magical film. So much to take in: the detail of the battle scenes is fantastic, the production design is mind-blowing and the pace of the action awesome. I was fixated for the entire movie, all 3 hours 20 minutes of it! But if I am really honest, my mind did trail a few times - I couldn't help it. It was all Viggo Mortensens' fault. Every time he was on screen, my heart beat a little faster, my breath got a little deeper and my pants got a little wetter. He has the most beautiful face, weathered laughter lines framing his eyes and mouth and intense blue eyes that could penetrate your very soul.

Er, speaking of penetration: unsurprisingly I found myself fantasising about his cock. I was trying to concentrate on the on-screen action, but all I could think of was the action going on inside my head (ripping the dirty clothes off his back, licking his chest, gripping his cock). Still at least I managed to sit the movie out and not run off to have a quick fiddle - tempted though I was - even Viggo won't force me to miss a movie.

Tried out a new gym today. Fantastic place. Their treadmills are superb (great support for the knees and ankles) and the equipment is modern, new and clean. (Not like my local council-run gym). I did my full hour running and did another hour on my abdominals (my transversus abdominus are getting solid). Hopefully my back will never be weak again! After working out I used the sauna, steam, jacuzzi and pool. So relaxing, so peaceful, so unaffordable dammit... And the talent - jeez. I spent the whole time on the treadmill looking at this guy, a handsome Gerard Butler lookalike who had the most perfect hard body. In fact all around me were cute men, so many of them! This must be where all the toned and trim guys in their thirties hang out - I must join it soon...

Am surprised that I am not tired. Not from the workout, but from lack of sleep. Only got 3 1/2 hours last night: tried to fall asleep early but the whole vacuum cleaner thing (see below) kinda got to me and I was hot as hell. Thing is, I had to be up early this morning so was aiming for just a quick fiddle before sleep. But for some reason I couldn't focus and I ended up waking up, semi-conscious, hand between my legs, job unfinished at 5 am. Well, I felt pretty hard done by, so I spent the next hour (!) frigging away for England, before finally, at 6 am I was able to rest - properly. A bit annoying that I had to be out at 9.30 am, but at least I got my pleasure in the end. Guess I'll just have to start earlier from now on...

I should really be asleep now, or at least attempting some sort of horizontal relaxation. My mind is a little occupied though. Been thinking about N today and can't get a particular scenario out of my mind. It goes as follows:

He gets an (empty) cardboard roll of kitchen towel and lubes it up well and good. He attaches it onto the hose end of his vacuum cleaner, and then slides his semi-hard cock into the empty end of the kitchen roll. Then he turns on the machine and lets nature take its course. According to N, no human can suck a cock that hard (I well believe that), and he said that no thrusting movement is necessary - the suction and vibration from the machine made him shoot his load within seconds.

Ok, so maybe the thought of a wad of spunk being sucked into your Hoover or Dyson doesn't really appeal, but for me the thought of a guy being sucked so fucking hard that he explodes down the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner really turns me on - I would love to watch that.

On that note, I think I shall adjourn to the bedroom and let nature take its course with me. No machines for me though, the kit-kat shuffle will do just fine...

I think I am in love. Not real love of course; more like an obsession. He is not my type: thin, straggly, with long hair and uneven teeth. And he smokes. But he plays the guitar like a maniac, as if he was masturbating with the instrument and his falsetto voice sends chills down my spine. Maybe its the taut muscles lining his chest that does it. Or the way the tattoo on his stomach is like a huge arrow pointing to his groin. Or maybe its the tight catsuits he wears that show off his bulge. Whatever it is, I fantasise about him all the time, and its listening to him on my walkman that gets me through the pain threshold at the gym.

I am of course talking about Justin Hawkins from rock band The Darkness Their music has taken me to new levels of sweat - singlehandedly their tunes have created my first ever abdominal muscles - and the lead singer Justin has wetted my pants many times... I fell asleep last night, dual balls having done their job, looking at the Time Out life-size poster of Justin which faces my bed. Lovely way to fall asleep - woke up with the balls still inside me - shows how carried away I must have been...

Why is it that men go to the gym together? I have often wondered this and today, as I slugged it out on the treadmill, I noticed how many men were working out in pairs or a group. Is it some form of male bonding? Do guys need other men to compete with to enable them to work their bodies harder? Is it the hint of homoeroticism that drives men on? Us women go it alone; we stare at each others bodies, muscles and faces and push ourselves just a little bit more than the next girl. We don't need companions - our friends are the treadmill, the stomach cruncher and the quad press. And all around, there is the smell of sweat and testosterone, the air filled with the energy of a bunch of heaving men and their rippling bodies.

And for me, it is a highly charged energy. I watch the guys sweating and I think of running my hands across their chests, down their backs and squeezing their asses, before making my way to the tops of their thighs and then between their legs. There is nothing as sexy as a guy with jogging pants on (and no boxers preferably) working his body to the max. Dammit. A lot to think about while I was running today. I was almost tempted to pop off to the toilet for a quick play, but thankfully my determination to complete my workout took precedence.

Started thinking about women again today, which I haven't done for a while. MTV was blaring as usual in the gym and I noticed Britney Spears (Oops I did it again) was on. I've never really understood the interest in her, but today I finally realised how sexy she is. I guess seeing her tits and firm ass squeezed into that tight red catsuit might have had something to do with it... I found myself getting wet whilst I was doing my sit-ups and had to fight the urge (again!) to run off to the toilet... Still, at least I had some control. I think my willpower is getting stronger; the real test will be if I can refuse a late-night booty call from B - if I can do that, then the world is my oyster!

Saturday 3 January 2004
Damn B. Woke up today thinking about him and his male friend R again. He mentioned to me a while back about us three fooling around but we never got it on. Just before me and B finished I met R, and now the idea has taken on new levels of excitement for me. I did try to get out of bed before 1pm, but the thought of having R in my mouth while B took me from behind was all too much for me and I ended up spending a good hour playing (and then falling back asleep again after). And by the time I got up, I didn’t make it to the gym. Why does my life seem to revolve around my libido?

Friday 2 January 2004
I started off the day well. Woke up at midday (hey I fell asleep at 6.30am so that’s not exactly a lie-in), had a coffee (organic fair-trade Guatemalan freshly ground, oh so delicious) and went straight down to the gym for a great two hour workout. And then my mind decided to get up to its usual tricks. As normal I scanned the surround for talent. Nothing there: just some old guys and a couple of teenage boys. Obviously lunchtime is not the time to see quality men, which was fine by me, makes me concentrate harder on my workout. But I did notice that I was the only woman in there whose nipples were erect (and yes I did check). Is something wrong with me?

Later at home, feeling very smug that I ran 2 miles non-stop in under 22 minutes (and walked another 2 in 28 minutes), I was rummaging around my drawers looking for things to wear and I found my vibrating dual balls. Ho hum, they’re not there to look at after all, may as well give them a go. Dammit I was doing so well, but I can’t resist the lure of the balls, so delicious. Ladies, if you haven’t tried them – DO. And gents, please be a dear and buy some as a treat for your girl if you have one. She’ll thank you for it, trust me.

Thursday 1 January 2004
A new year. A new outlook. So why am I thinking about B a lot? I ended it with him recently when I realised how much of an asshole he is and that he has a total lack of respect for me. Even a fuck-buddy like him should be a decent human being I think.

So I find it weird that he is occupying my thoughts – well not so much him per se, but more specifically, his cock. I don’t know what it is about it, its not exceptionally large or anything (though its bigger than average), but I am thinking about it constantly.

Today for example I woke up imagining B’s cock rubbing against me. Seconds later I am playing with myself to oblivion. Lovely way to start the day, but I am shocked that I could still find him a turn-on right now. And then, an hour later as I was doing some sit-ups in my front room, I started fantasising that he was standing next to me, cock in his hand, sliding it into my mouth. Needless to say I had to stop exercising (damn it, gotta work those abs!) and sort myself out. I wonder if the things you dislike turn you on the most? Sometimes I feel like I have no control…

Me and my blog

I have a one-track mind. I also find it hard to remember things, so have become something of a prolific list writer to help me keep track of what’s important. I figure starting my blog with a list might therefore be a good way to introduce myself. So here goes…

I am a child of the 70's
but I don't see any reason to wear fashion connected to that era
I live in London
but would be happier somewhere hot with a beach
I am a sushi addict
and find it hard to cut the carbs when faced with some Ikura
I adore the treadmill
but I am not a gym fascist
I love going to the cinema
but don't get to see enough movies
I would drink coffee all day
if it didn't make me talk bollocks and prevent me sleeping
I work in the mainstream UK film industry
not in porno
I enjoy the odd Singapore Sling from time to time
but watch how much/often I drink
I cannot stand Bush and despise Blair too
I have a high pain threshold
yet I also know the maximum amount of ibruprofen and paracetemol I can take in 24 hours
I have a low boredom threshold
and will exit a situation if my brain is not being stimulated
even if this means forsaking an orgasm
I hate shopping for clothes
and put off having to replace items for as long as possible
I love shopping for food
and enjoy cooking a variety of dishes for friends
I love to buy sex toys
but find it hard to leave the store with just one item
I like watching the morning sunrise
but hate getting up for it
My ideal man would be a mixture of Alan Davies, Rob Newman and Mark Thomas
ie, he should be very funny, have left-wing politics, and ideally be tall dark and handsome too
My desert island disc would have to be Axis: Bold as Love by Jimi Hendrix
My desert island movie would be Mulholland Drive
My desert island man (for sex) would be David Boreanaz
My desert island man (for conversation) would be Louis Theroux
No matter how many hours I work and how tired I am, my insomnia keeps me awake
And even if I do plan to go to sleep, a last minute Bully Wank will keep me up
I am an underwear addict (50 g-strings/hipster hotpants and counting)
but I've never been to Agent Provocateur
I love sex and think about it all the time
which is pretty much why I set up this blog
I figured by writing some of my thoughts down it might free up my mind a little…

Here’s a ‘fiend’s’ supermini list to get on with for now:
I think about sex constantly. The thing about guys and it being on their minds every 8 seconds – I have one question: what about the other 7?! I certainly know what I am thinking about during those…
I am unable to walk into any room/social situation without immediately scanning all the men in there to see if any of them are fuckable
I keep looking at men’s crotches: in the street, on the tube, buses, pubs wherever. I haven’t been found out yet – at least I think I haven’t…
If I don’t climax regularly (at least daily) I am a moody bitch. If more men realised this about me, life with them would be so simple - I am easily pleased
My solution to the above is regular playing with oneself. A necessary task and immensely fun