A closed door

Its hard knowing how to start, when things have finished. Being able to turn the page and walk away. Closing that particular book, memorising every line, because it feels like a distant memory already; a photograph that you can’t find, but you remember being taken. And feeling that you can’t recall when you last hurt like this, maybe never, though you know that everyone goes through it and that in the scale of life, this is immaterial bollocks.

But it still hurts.

I finished it this week with SP. It has taken me days to process how I feel about it, let alone blog it. I am still a mixture of emotions, confused as ever, a melting-pot of raw pain, fury, love and passion. And even my normal touchstone of masturbating has been noticeably less pleasurable; a short lived burst of hormones and adrenalin climaxing in feeling empty in more ways than one.

Warning

This is going to be a very long post, the longest I have ever written, and perhaps will ever write. There is a need for it to be broken down so I have sub-divided it into chapters. Pick and choose as you will.

1. The talk
2. The jelly
3. Handcuffs
4. Spanking
5. Hands
6. Vibrator
7. DP
8. Missionary
9. Oral
10. Cowboy
11. Final climax
12. Morning wake up
13. Time for tea
14. Lounge surprise
15. Shower time
16. Sleeping beauties
17. Refuelling
18. Sleep
19. Bathroom secrets
20. Goodbye

1. The talk

We had been at a dinner party all night, I was a little pissed, SP very drunk. The whole journey home SP had been mumbling about ‘us’ and I wanted to talk with him, so I waited till we staggered in to his flat and crashed out together on his couch. I tried to have a reasonable discussion with him, but he really was drunk, everything noted below is out of sequence – just dribs and drabs of the non-linear talk we had. But the ‘truth serum’ aspect of the alcohol in SP was interesting: he told me that he didn’t trust me; that I kept on “coming in and out of (his) life”, that he was scared shitless of being with “someone from the (film) industry”, that we “lead such different lives” and that my “intensity” scared him. He also said that he missed me living with him, that he felt we had an “amazing connection” and that he had had feelings for me. I asked him what it was that had made him back off. He told me it was the note. He said that when he found it, it hurt him dreadfully: I had left him just as all the other women in his life had left him and he lost all trust in me. I explained how hurt I had been (re the 19 year old, the possible pregnancy etc) and said that I half thought he would have tried to come after me when he got that note. He looked at me incredulously and asked me how could I expect him to do that when I had dumped him. My response: how could he think I would stay with him while he was fucking another person?

And then he dropped this: he told me that in total, he had slept with the 19 year old three times, twice before he met me, once after, that he had been in love with the idea of fucking her, but that she wasn’t even a fuck buddy. He said I was the third person he had slept with in 4 years. And I asked him why he told me that she was a regular sex partner when she wasn’t. He didn’t know. Said he was fucked up, that he had issues, skeletons in his closet, that he is a mess, doesn’t know what he’s doing, what he wants, where he’s going, whether he deserves to be with anyone, but that all he ever wanted was someone to look after him.

I told him that I had wanted to be that person, that he pushed me away, that I had been in love with him and still had feelings for him. And he responded by making excuses: we live too far apart, our lives are too separate, he doesn’t know what he wants etc. So I said:

“SP. I don’t want to have casual sex anymore. It’s not fulfilling for me; it’s temporary. I want to be in a relationship. I want to be in love. I want to be the last person that my partner sees before he falls asleep, I want to wake him up with a blow job, I want to rub his back when he’s had a hard day, I want to speak to him on the phone just to hear his voice, I want him to be able to tell me his troubles, I want to make love with him, so that he knows how much I care. And I want someone who is in love with me – who wants me too. What do you want SP?”

And he shrugged and asked me where I saw myself in 5 years time.

So I said:

“In 5 years time, I see myself being in love with someone, hopefully living with them, working my ass off on a movie and being happy."

And SP mumbled something about my working abroad, how it wouldn't work out.

So I said that if the woman of his dreams walked through that door now, he would deal with whatever came, and that he would fall in love with her and that I thought I could have been that woman.

And he didn’t reply.

So I repeated myself:

“I want to be with someone who wants me. I am not going to have casual sex with you anymore. And if I do, it'll only be if I am not in a relationship, but I am seeing other men”

And he looked down and began fidgeting. So I reached over and gave him a huge hug, and suggested that we have ‘one for the road’. We started stroking each other and kissing. SP said that he didn’t think he could ‘perform’ due to all the alcohol and I told him not to worry: that at the very least I would give his cock a little suck to send him to sleep.

2. The Jelly

Things started to get quite hot between us on the couch. And before long, SP’s hand had travelled up my thighs and discovered my stockings, suspender belt and distinct lack of underwear. He played with me for a little while, rubbing me, lazily sticking his thumb inside me, then swapping it with his fingers whilst his wet thumb caressed my clit. Within minutes I was off: a couple of orgasms in and feeling very good indeed. I tried to pull off his clothes, but SP was having none of it. He pushed me onto my back, told me to play with myself and then left the room.

Well of course I am obedient about such things and when he came back a few minutes later, I was on the edge. He saw this and immediately stuck three fingers inside me, urging me on. It didn’t take long. I lay back blissed out. I asked him what he was doing when he left the room. He grinned at me and said I would like it. At first he wouldn’t tell me what it was, but eventually he caved in (with much persistence I must add): he had swallowed some Viagra. Jelly Viagra to be exact. Now I have never experienced this. But I was damn excited by this prospect. He had got me so horny and in all honesty, all I wanted was his cock. Knowing that he would still be able to get a boner and therefore I would get a shag at the end of it put me on edge…of an orgasm to be really honest. Which of course SP assisted me with. By the end of it, I was pretty shattered and when SP suggested that we just go to sleep I was happy with that.

3. The Handcuffs

But SP had other ideas. When we got into his bedroom he told me to lie down on my front and raise my hands above my head. I saw him getting the handcuffs out and my heart began racing. He tied me and them to the bedpost and started stroking my ass. Then he began talking to me:

“You’re such a bad girl aren’t you? You know you want it (sliding his finger inside me), you want it so bad don’t you (pressing my clit), come on, push against me, come on, fuck my hand”

4. Spanking

Which I duly did, his hand moving faster and faster inside me. It was so good. But when his other hand came down with a firm slap on my ass, it was even better. He did it again. Harder. And my whole body tingled. And when SP said

“Yeah, go on, fucking do it, come on you hot dirty girl, fucking yeah, do it!”

and then slid two fingers in my ass as well, I climaxed so hard I thought I would hit my head against the wall.

5. Hands

But he didn’t stop there. He moved me up so I was on my knees – doggy-style- and carried on spanking me, two fingers inside me, two in my ass, fucking me hard. I looked behind me a couple of times and I saw his cock was stiff. I could see it pulsing and it made me want him even more. I tried to push myself backwards, so that I could feel the tip against me, but he pushed me away saying

“No. You’re not gonna get that yet”

And I moaned and pleaded, but SP just ignored me, carried on fingering me. He continued on like that for what seemed like eternity, until I had cum. And then cum again and then he moved away from me and ordered me to turn over and lie on my back.

6. Vibrator

By this point I was shagged out. Really. My body was super-sensitive: any touch and I was shivering. Even the slightest touch near my pussy felt too intense. I said to SP I needed a rest, 60 seconds, anything. But he just laughed. I pleaded: 30 seconds? He reached over, grabbed the lube and moments later I felt the cold drizzle of the liquid being spread over my pussy and ass. I shuddered. SP grinned. Then I felt it: he was pushing the vibrator into me very slowly, turning it as he went, so it felt like every part of my insides was being touched. Jesus. Before I knew it, it was fully inside me, a slow throbbing pulsing within. Fucking delicious. He moved it in and out, up and down, side to side. And with his other hand he was rubbing his cock, pushing it against me. That was too much. I began exploding with full force and he pushed the vibrator into me as far as it would go.

7. DP

Before I knew it he was inside me too. He had slid his cock into my ass as I started cumming and was deep inside whilst I shook, quivered and clenched him hard. When that had subsided he began moving himself slowly in and out, his cock in my ass, the vibrator humming inside me. I wanted to grip him and pull him into me deeper but my arms were still above my head in the handcuffs. He saw me struggling and laughed, saying

“XXXX, I’m gonna fuck you so hard in your ass and there is nothing you can do about it. You’ve got a huge dildo in your pussy and my cock deep in your ass. And I’m not gonna set you free till you cum again. Do you hear that?”

And I recall mumbling incoherently, whilst thinking ‘no don’t set me free, fuck me in my ass!’ And he did. By the time the batteries had expired in the vibrator (damn them), I had climaxed for England.

8. Missionary

SP pulled out of me, swapped the condom and undid my arms. It felt so good to be free of the handcuffs; it had been so frustrating not being able to grab hold of SP and pull him into me, I felt like I had a lot of making up to do. And I did. All night I had been wanting SP’s cock inside me. The anticipation was killing me. SP was sitting in front of me, playing with himself and all I could think was:

‘Stick it in me!’

Eventually SP guided himself into me. And of course that was too much for me and my body started shaking, climaxing hard. SP kept saying

“Yeah yeah, XXXX, go on, I’m fucking you now, you’ve got my cock, go on, fucking cum, cum hard, go on XXXX, yeah, feel my cock”

And I couldn’t stop cumming. It was like one long climax, on and on and on. So intense. So delicious. When it was over, SP slowed the pace down, slid his cock out of me and then said

"Ok, now I'm REALLY gonna fuck you. Are you ready for my cock?"

And I nodded, weakly. He pushed my legs back above my head and said

"Are you sure you're ready for my cock? I'm gonna fuck you so hard"

and he slid his cock back inside me, pulled my legs around his shoulders, grabbed my breasts hard and rammed his cock hard into me. I heard myself saying:

"Yes yes, harder, harder, oh my god fuck me, I love it, I love your cock"

and all I was aware of was the burning sensation between my legs and the need to have him deeply inside me. I grabbed his ass and pulled him in as close as I could. He fucked me faster and faster and I climaxed hard. When my shaking had subdued (a little), SP withdrew his (still hard) cock and moved down the bed.

9. Oral

But I couldn’t move. I was exhausted. And trembling. I needed a rest. But SP had other ideas. Lying between my legs, he began to blow air onto my pussy. Even that was too much for me. And when he lightly grazed a finger around my labia, I begged him to stop, pleaded for a few minutes recovery. He looked up at me cheekily grinning and then lowered his tongue onto my labia, gently touching it. Bastard. But god that was good. Painful, but good. He rolled his tongue around my swollen pussy, gently licking me up and down. Jesus. Then he opened his mouth and sucked the whole area. Fuck. So good. I thought I was a lost cause but within a couple of minutes I was grinding my hips against his face and hoping he would stick some fingers inside me. Which he did. And I was duly rewarded with an intense climax resulting in my grabbing his head and pushing his tongue into me. Lovely.

10. Cowboy

Now, by this point I was TOTALLY shagged out. I mean, orgasmed out beyond belief. I’m thinking ‘this is not humanely possible, this must be illegal - cumming this much’, and I lay there almost hoping that I could get to go to sleep in my dreamy post-orgasmic state and recover. But of course I had forgotten about two important factors:

a) SP is a sadist. But the pain he likes inflicting is always pleasurable
b) The Viagra. The fact he was still rock hard after shagging so much and being drunk was amazing (and damn erotic too)

So, I’m lying there, swollen, wet, exhausted, SP moves onto his back, plays with his cock and says to me:

“Right XXXX, I’ve fucked you. Now you’re gonna fuck me. I want you to get up and sit on my cock”

I think I moaned or at least groaned. The thought of more sex, jeez…. But I did get up, and as I climbed over him, he pushed his cock against me so it rubbed my clit and a little spark of pleasure rippled through me once more. He told me to rub myself against him. And I did, feeling myself getting wetter by the minute. And when SP told me to grab his cock and stick it inside me, I didn’t complain: I guided it in and slid it in to the hilt. We moved against each other slowly, intensely, deeply for a while. And then SP said:

“I want you to fuck me. Hard. Like how I fucked you. But now you’re fucking me. Go on fuck my cock, I want to feel you cum. Use my cock. Do what you want, just fuck it. Fuck it till you cum”.

And that turned me on so much. I was sliding against him, and I moved up from my knees to begin crouching on my feet, so that I could slide him all the way in and all the way out. I fucked him good. He was grabbing my breasts and squeezing me and I felt like I was on the brink all the time. When he pulled me close so my pelvis was grinding against his, I knew I was close again, and when he said

“Yes yes, I can feel it, it’s coming, oh my god, yes, let go, feel it”

I began to feel this far off sensation getting closer and closer, like a train far away and hearing it get nearer. My climax was slow, deep and extraordinarily intense. Unfuckingbelievable. I felt like if I had died at that moment, I wouldn’t have cared. In fact it was so intense, I almost wanted to die. But instead I collapsed in a heap on top of SP, and he held me and kissed me and I could feel his still hard cock inside me as I shook and shuddered.

11. Final climax

After a while, I moved off him and lay down. SP told me he was ready to cum now, said it would be a matter of seconds and would I suck his cock? I pulled him over me and sucked him greedily, wanting him to cum as hard as I had. And he did. I held him as his whole body shook and his legs and stomach went rigid and I felt his cock pulse and contract and thrust in my mouth as he climaxed. It was fantastic, (I selfishly wished he had been inside me when he had cum, so I could have felt that), but seeing and feeling the force of this explosion was wonderful. I kissed him all over, stroked him and held him and then at 8am, two hours after we started having sex, we fell asleep.

12. Morning wake up

I woke up at midday. Horny. SP was spooning me, his arm draped over my breast. In his sleepy state he played with my nipple. That set me off. I did try to rub my ass against his cock to wake him up, but he just rolled onto his back and started snoring. I lay there wondering what to do. Go back to sleep? Have a wank? Wake him up? Hmm. I wanted his cock. One choice really…

I moved down the bed, so my face was level with his cock and began kissing him. I started off slow and light, grazing the shaft with my lips, opening them at the head, letting just the tip of it just slide into my wet mouth, then out again. I worked my way up and down, sometimes licking, sometimes kissing, sometimes pressing with my tongue piercing, sometimes sucking. I started to feel a little movement in his cock so I held it with my hand and took the whole length in my mouth, running my tongue along the underside as I sucked him gently. His cock pulsed slightly. I pressed my lips against the underside, nibbled him. His cock grew harder. I licked him. It grew harder still. But he (seemed like he) was still snoring so I continued, until his cock was bouncing on my tongue, rubbing against my lips and being sucked hard by my wet mouth. Then SP seemed to wake, with eyes closed he reached down and felt me between my legs. I heard him groan when he felt how wet I was (a 30 minutes blow job – of course I was wet) and then he grabbed me and pulled me over him. I slid him inside me and we both came together. Lovely.

13. Time for tea

SP got up to make some tea, and I lay there, content. But then I felt it, that familiar throbbing between my legs: I was horny. Again. Dammit. I felt embarrassed. Needy. Insatiable. And I didn’t want SP to feel like he was inadequate in some way, that he hadn’t satisfied me, because jesus christ he had. So I quietly slid my hand between my legs and had a quick frig while SP was in the kitchen. By the time he came back, mugs in hand, I was done, and he was none the worse for not knowing.

14. Lounge surprise

So I get up, go to the loo, drink my tea. I’m standing naked in SP’s lounge reading some texts on my mobile, when SP comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. At first I thought he was being affectionate and I snuggle myself against him, holding his arms. But then he begins to rub his fingers against my nipples and caress my breasts and I can hear his breathing is deeper. Like clockwork, my body responds: my nipples harden, I begin to get wet (again). And then I feel him against me, pressing his cock along the curve of my ass. So I reach behind, slide my hands into the pockets of the shorts he is wearing and with one hand grab his cock, with the other, his balls and begin to rub him. That was too much for him: he reached down and ripped off his shorts and pushed his cock against me whilst sliding his fingers between my legs. I bent over and he slid himself into me. He thrust into me hard, deep and fast, whilst playing with my clit. Too much for me: I go down on my hands and knees and pulled him into me even harder. He grabbed my ass, pulled me back onto him and we fucked for dear life, climaxing together shortly afterwards.

15. Showertime

We decided we should get up, have a shower, so we took it in turns and I started putting on my clothes in the lounge. I had got as far as my stockings and suspender belt when I saw SP watching me with a glint in his eye. So I went and stood in front of him. I began putting on my bra and slowly cupped each breast into the material. SP mentioned that my nipples looked hard and I squeezed them through the bra for him so that he could see he was right. But the time I was buttoning up my skirt, SP was telling me to sit on him and kiss him. Which of course I did. He ran his hands up my legs and removed my skirt, pulling my naked pussy against his denim-covered cock and rubbing my clit against him. It felt so good, I could hardly bear it. I reached down, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled off his pants and sat down so I could feel the heat and hardness of his cock against me. But he just shook his head and said we needed to be careful: he had no condoms left. I felt so gutted. I wanted his cock so badly. But instead he stuck his fingers inside me and said:

“Imagine this is my cock. So hard for you, fucking you, can you feel it?”

and I’m working myself against him, it feels wonderful, but I want his cock, and I’m thinking, ‘you bastard, why didn’t you get more condoms, why won’t you give it to me, fuck me please’,

but of course he wouldn’t and he kept on saying,

“this is what my cock would be doing, sliding in and out of you, go on fuck it, fuck my cock”

So I did, and when I came, I was happy and frustrated all at the same time. I badly wanted to give SP some pleasure too, asked him if he wanted me to suck him, but he just said,

“no, I want you to lie back there, and stick your fingers inside yourself”

and although exhausted, I did as he asked. Then he got up and left the room. I was confused. But he returned moments later with a condom on his erect cock, grinning widely. I couldn’t believe it. He lied to me. I gave him a thump as he got close to me, called him a sadistic bastard, that he should have given me his cock when I was begging for it, but he just responded:

“Ah, but then you wouldn’t have had such a hard orgasm would you? This way, you had to fantasise about it, which makes it all the more fun”

And I guess he was right. Still called him a bastard though. Even when moments later he was ramming his cock inside me and fucking me as hard as I could take it. Bastard. But in a good way.

16. Sleeping beauties

So we fell asleep together, our bodies wrapped around each other. Every now and then SP would stroke my back or my hair and kiss me, and I rested my head on his chest and caressed his shoulders. It was so relaxed and peaceful. I felt very content. We crashed out for a few hours and when I woke up his arms were still around me.

17. Refuelling

We ended up going out for breakfast/lunch/dinner, a lovely meal. To my surprise SP didn’t order any alcohol and I wondered if something I had said the previous night had stuck with him (I told him that I thought he needed professional help and that if he needed support in getting that, I would help him). We had a lovely meal, talked a bit – though nothing about ‘us’ and then came back to his flat.

18. Sleep

Both of us were exhausted and SP fell asleep in my arms. I lay awake for a while and realised a few things:

a) that it was exactly 5 months to the day since we first got together
b) that this was the first time SP had ever taken off work to be with me – and it was never mentioned or discussed between us – it just happened
c) that we had spent an entire 24 hours together with no break
d) that it was over and I was going to have to say goodbye

I felt sad lying there in his arms and when the Dry Your Eyes video came on VH1, I wept silently. I fell asleep knowing that whatever we had, it was finished, that this moment would be the last, that I had to let him go.

19. Bathroom secrets

When we both awoke, I was horny again (I have no idea why). SP got up to go to the loo and I lay there rubbing myself. When he came back, I think he guessed what I was up to, because he pulled back the duvet to reveal my fingers between my legs and then he laughed. I said that I couldn’t help it, that he made me like that (and I secretly hoped he would replace my fingers with his). But SP sat there just looking at me. And I felt embarrassed. So I moved over to him, started kissing and hugging him and though he did likewise, he said to me:

“Look XXXX, I’m sorry, I just don’t feel horny”

And I kissed him and hugged him and said I should be going anyway. And I went to the bathroom feeling rejected and had a (silent) Bully Wank. I felt stupid and insatiable and hurt that he didn’t want to send me home with a climax. So I rubbed myself hard and had a rather unsatisfying orgasm. But at least I came…

20. Goodbye

We hugged and kissed and I looked at him in the eyes and said to “take care” and I meant it. And I tried to walk away. But he held my hand and said he would speak to me next week. And then I left. I drove away feeling like I was ok, that things were alright, that I could move on. And I listened to the radio and I sung along to it the entire way home.

And for a few days I was ok, really. I felt like I was in a good place, where I can move on, meet someone new, fall in love. And in spite of having possibly the best (and most) sex in my whole life, I would swap all of the above in an instant, to be able to make love with someone who I was in love with.

But I think I am still in love with him. And I know this because he just sent me a text thanking me for

“the most beautiful 24 hours (he has) ever had”, that he hopes I have “sweet dreams” and that he will “speak to (me) this week”,

and my heart raced when I opened that text.

I am really confused. On the one hand I hope that he does call me this week. Why?
a) Because it'll show me that he cares? That he wants me?
b) Because it'll give me the chance to turn him down/push him away/ignore his call? Hurt him?
c) Do I want to push him away (forever?) Can I deal with that?
d) Or do I want to push him away in the hope that he'll come running back to me?
e) Or do I want him to call me because that’s what "friends" do? And then I know there is a (non romantic) future for us?

And on the other hand I don't want him to call me, because it would be so much easier to forget about him that way. Because I know (or think I know) that he doesn't want me. Because that hurts like hell knowing that. And because I need to move on and I won't if we are trying to be friends. At least, not for a good few weeks/months, whilst I am still smarting like this.

But that night SP never said "I don't have feelings for you", or "I don't want to be with you" or "yes I agree, we shouldn't have casual sex anymore". No. He evaded my comments and also rambled on about us working in the same industry, having separate lives, how he's fucked up and confused and has skeletons in his closet that are huge. And in the same breath tells me how he loves seeing me, how we have such an amazing connection, that we can talk about "anything", how he misses me being there living with him, and then he cuddles me and holds me.

Now I know he was very drunk when we talked and therefore I have to take everything he said with a pinch of salt. But I also know that if he was in love with me, I’m sure he would say it, drunk or not. So having even the slightest doubt in my mind right now is a bad thing and I need to forget it. I know I made the right choice and I know I need to move on. God I need to move on.

I hear time heals – I am waiting for that to kick in. And I am hoping that I find some strength to deal with this, to be able to say ‘no’ to SP when/if he calls me; not regarding the sex, but instead not allowing him into my heart anymore.

Wish me luck.

May the Force be with you

In my blog, I have talked about various things, such as: having a high sex drive, one-night stands, the smiliarities between me and men , how I spend an average day and bored wanking (work those archives baby). But I have never touched upon the Bully Wank. I am sure most people are familiar with this (and if anyone can come up with a description better than mine via Google or the like, please offer it up).

The Bully Wank is when you've mildly got the horn but you're maybe tired/had a long day/had an argument with your partner/been wanking all day anyway and then you force yourself to masturbate. Of course consent is involved, its not like you have to co-oerce yourself into grabbing your genitals ("oh come on honey, you'll like it, I promise!"). No, more that you feel you should have a play, even given the state you are in, so you really try to enjoy it, but your hearts just not in it. Which may lead to:

a) Not being able to cum
b) Or it taking ages to cum
c) Or the climax at the end hardly being worth it

which is where I found myself recently at 3am, frigging away for England, desperate to cum. And at 5am I gave up. Yes, without having an orgasm. I am as outraged as you are, believe me (especially considering my normal state of the post-multi-body-judder). I felt robbed - even though I had played 5 times that day already, I had gone to bed thinking (well convincing myself really):

"Oh, just one last one. A quickie. One for the road..."

But I know that I kept falling asleep mid-frig and then wake up moments later thinking

"what was I doing again? Oh yeah. Where was I?"

And continue playing. And falling asleep again. And 2 hours into this stupid cycle, I saw it was 5am, that I had only 2 hours before I had to be up again, and I just thought

"Fuck it"

And fell asleep. Of course it didn't help that I then woke up at 7am, crazy horny (with not enough time to play before leaving), but sometimes you gotta make sacrifices.

Just say no to the Bully. I know I shall...

Never Blog when you're drunk...

Because its likely that you'll talk bollocks*...

Ah well, I'll just blame it on the bourbon I've been necking all evening...

So, some thoughts today:

1) I saw this group of school kids - teenagers hanging out together, your typical set of 15-16 year olds, 5 girls, 1 guy and I remembered how all girls have that one guy. The one thats different to the rest (he doesn't make fun of us), how he's sensitive and kind and trustworthy and how we like him being in our gang. And of course none of us wanted to fuck him; he was our friend.

Looking at this group today got me thinking. I watched the young man, saw his eyes outline the bodies of the nubile young girl friends and I imagined how he must desire them. To be so close to young women who are similarly hormonally challenged and not to be able to become sexually intimate with them must be so frustrating. Whilst the girls are swooning about the bastard boys in their senior year at school, and losing their virginity to some undeserving prat who convinces them that they love them, this young man is frantically beating his meat every night thinking about those same girls, yearning after them, wanting to cross that line with them, but never daring to. Because he is a nice guy. I wish I had been perceptive enough back then to realise that the nice ones are the ones to fuck - because they won't fuck you over. And I felt sad watching this group of young people, because I saw the same stupid pattern being renacted over again.

2) This amazingly cute guy stared at me and smiled. He had steel-grey eyes that pierced through me sending a shiver right into my body and straight between my legs. He had stopped his car at the traffic light and kept looking at me, smiling. I was coy: twirling my hair, biting my lip, smiling back at him. But you know what stopped me from walking over to his car and talking to him? His car. Not because it was some old banger, the opposite: it was a new Porsche Boxter convertible. And I thought "tosser". Plus, I didn't want him to think that the reason I was interested in him was because of his car (I'm a socialist for fucks sake, penis-extension capitalistic materialism turns me right off), so I looked away and when the lights turned green he zoomed off. An anti-chick magnet (in my case anyway) if I ever saw one...

3) I am still in love with SP. Please don't all shout at me at once. At least I am admitting it. I know its fucking stupid and that he is an asshole/alcoholic/fool/peniley challenged/selfish bastard/wanker but I can't help how I (still) feel. Things are not clear with him; it seems like there is still a possibility that things will develop further between us and that he has feelings for me too. Its difficult for me to walk away when we're in a kind of 'no mans land' of ambiguity; where we are so intimate and close and yet we're not 'in' something.

But when I am drunk like now, its all very easy. I just wanna say

"Fuck you SP you cock sucking wanker. You're just like all the other pricks who messed me about: if you say you're gonna call me, call me! If you aren't man enough to deal with this woman, then you can fuck off. I don't want to be with a childish boy who doesn't know what he wants. You're 37 for fucks sake - grow the fuck up! I'm not wasting any more time on a sad lonely man who's on a mission to self destruct. You can do that alone. Goodbye SP and don't ever contact me again."

And I am almost tempted to call him now and say it. But then I think of how he looks at me and smiles rubbing his nose against mine; how he holds onto me when we walk down the street and stops me walking into cars when we cross the road; how he softly strokes my hair when we lie together; how he slowly twirls his fingers into mine when we talk; how when he phones me, he says

"Hi honey, its me"

like its the most natural thing in the world and I should know who "me" is; how when he makes me cum, he says

"Oh god yeah, I love it"

and then continues to make me cum again. And again. And again. And I think of how much I miss him when I don't see him and I yearn to be with him: the minutes away from him seem like hours; the hours, days. And I know that I can't walk away from this - yet. Not while I still feel there is some hope. I know this can't go on - not knowing - but I can't end it now. For all my positing about being an independent woman, you would think that I would be strong enough to shut this door behind me - and know that I have made the right choice. But I don't know where that woman is right now - I hope I find her soon.

*Disclaimer:
I have the right to deny/delete/disagree with anything I have said here tonight. I am the author of this blog and I am pissed (thats drunk to my American readers). The fact that I can even type is an achievement. So cut me some slack, ok?

Humour is an aphrodisiac

Stating the obvious of course. I find it a wonderful thing when someone can make me laugh; there is nothing like the endorphin rush that you get when your whole body laughs - its a fantastic release of energy.

I think its such a sexy quality for a man to have, it makes more of an impression on me than a handsome face or even being skilled in bed. It turns me on that a man can have the talent and power to make me laugh, loosen up and feel at ease.

And I find myself wondering about the writers whose blogs I read for my daily fix of giggles; these men - JonnyB, Unluckyman, Nutgroist - that make me feel so good, what are they really like behind the anonymity that we all share? Do they realise the talents that they have? Are they aware of the pleasure they give through their written words? And being the Girl that I am, my mind starts wandering (sorry guys) and I wonder if they know that they turn me on? Their words, their skill, their talent makes me feel alive - and with my pulse racing, I find myself wanting to play...

Queen of Procrastination

I should be a busy woman right now - especially seeing as I have more time on my hands. There's a whole heap of things I ought to be filling my time with:

Doing an Autumn clean in my flat, bagging up stuff for charity
Attempting to become a Minimalist and clearing out some furniture/junk, ditto for charity
Finally get some laminate flooring down (after years of living with floorboards)
Buying some curtains/blinds and get 'em up (apologies to my neighbours, now used to seeing my naked ass walking around my flat)
Buying new sheets and pillowcases for my bed
Painting my bedroom
Seeing my friends/family/colleagues
Catching up with movies
Going to the gym (its been too long)
Getting rid of the cold/flu that I've had all week (no amount of echinacea/vitamin C/ginseng/Lemsips have killed it)
Getting my car fixed
Sorting out my tax/NI
Chasing work (just how many ways can I say "please hire me"? Damn this freelance life)
Writing a script (how long has it been since I put words on a page? Minus this blog of course)

But no. Instead of doing that, I have been occupied by the sexual thoughts running through my mind. My playing has reached absurd proportions recently; 4/5 times a day. I don't even think I am that horny, I seem to be stratching an itch out of boredom, rather than out of rampant desire.

Its almost as if I resort to playing with myself as an avoidance tactic so I don't have to face all the things I should be doing instead. Masturbation by default. Lazy wanking. And a waste of my time; its not like I am acheiving anything from it - just a pointless poke culminating in a semi-satisfying orgasm.

I think I need help - its 2.30am, I am finishing off this post, then surfing the net for more 'material' before heading to bed for number 6 - it ain't all fun and sunshine being a Girl with a one-track mind...

Fantasy number 1

I've been preparing for SP and I's next meeting - a night where we act out the others fantasy. There are so many things I want to try with him, its hard to decide what to start with/suggest first. Suffice to say I've had plenty on my mind (and on my hands) the last few days. However, I have managed to work my thoughts into a shortlist, a 1 -5 series if you will. I shall blog about them with the view to narrowing them down to a couple of scenarios decided via feedback from readers. The first idea is as follows:

I enter his flat wearing a long black coat, tied at my waist. All that is visible is my stockinged toes poking through my slingback heels. I walk into the lounge. He is seated on the couch, naked. We look at each other but don't speak. I turn away from him, undo my coat, let it drop to the floor. I notice the television on, porn playing, no sound. I turn back, he looks me up and down, sees I have no underwear on beneath my black basque, grips his cock in his hand.

I walk over to him, stand in front of him, and watch him tug at his hard cock. His eyes flit from me to the tv and back again. Our eyes meet. My hand ventures south. His eyes drop and follow my fingers as they make their way between my legs. I hear him moan, and as I feel my own wetness I gasp. I see him stroke himself faster and I lean in to him.

He thinks I am going to sit on top of him and he raises his arms to grab my hips in anticipation, but I have other ideas. I kneel before him, run my hands up his thighs and begin kissing his throbbing cock. He moans and looks down at me as I lick his cock; he strokes my hair as I slide it deep into my wet mouth. I look up at him and see him watching me and I suck harder.

He lies back on the couch and closes his eyes, then opens them again, begins watching the porn on the tv. The beautiful women getting fucked. His cock in my mouth. He looks back to me, my lips gripping him, turns back to the tv, fast fucking, hot sex. He feels me moving against him, looks down, sees one of my hands frantically rubbing myself, the other clenched around him, my mouth moving back and forth along his cock. The vision, the sound, the sensation. He is near. So am I. And when we both explode, we collapse together arm in arm whilst the porn continues playing on the tv...

So? Comments please.

23 positions in a one night stand...

I don't think I have ever had as many orgasms in one sitting as I had in the 12 hours I spent with SP a few nights ago. Truly amazing. I am still sore. And finding it a little difficult to walk. But a good price to pay for 20+ climaxes*...

We had a lovely evening actually, went out to dinner, watched a movie, talked. And of course had rampant sex. Somehow we went from cuddling on his couch to me lying on my back with his cock down my throat, grabbing his ass whilst he fucked my mouth hard. I was torn between sticking my fingers in his asshole and rubbing myself between my legs. (Um, I chose the selfish option and opted for some self-pleasure). That didn't last long though: SP got off me, ripped my clothes off and shoved his fingers inside me til I came. Being the polite girl that I am, I didn't complain, not even when I had 4 more climaxes and was feeling exhausted. But the line was drawn when I was on orgasm number 7 and he still wouldn't let me have his cock inside me. I was almost crying out in desperation and felt infuriated. Finally though he gave it to me: he pulled me on top of him and slid himself into me. Needless to say number 8 arrived simultaneously and as soon as he started saying:

"Go on, go on, fuck my cock, go on you know you want it, fuck me hard",

number 9 and 10 arrived pretty soon after. And when I felt SP begin to tense up and grip me even tighter, I held on for him; as soon as he began to explode, I let go. Our bodies shook in unison and we collapsed together in each others arms.

Later in bed SP got out the lube, rubbed it all over me. We had talked about fisting earlier in the evening and I know he was as eager as me to try it. And try it he did. I know at one point he was almost all the way in: it felt so amazing and so painful at the same time. And yes, I came over and over again. What I really enjoyed about it was how when his hand was inside me, it was like he owned my insides and I was his. And yet, I had his hand. It was mine. And it was inside me. I owned him too. It was strangely binding and very intimate; not something one normally equates with ramming a fist (with some force) inside a vagina, but there you go: don't knock something til you've tried it...

I've noticed a difference in how I climax too. With SP I cum HARD. With incredible force (no wonder I get icepick headaches), my body tightens up and I even grind my teeth. (Odd I know). What is the weirdest thing, is that my pussy clenches so hard that I eject SP's cock. Now, I know he's not the largest guy, but full-on removal on climax? Not right. SP said my pussy was like a vice gripping his cock (which I guess is a compliment), but I found it very frustrating to lose his cock from inside me the very instant that I want him there; to be cumming with nothing inside me is a little disappointing. Anyway, once we figured out when my orgasm eject button was likely to happen, SP would grab me hard by the hips and say:

"Think you're gonna push my cock out now? Do you? My cock's gonna stay in. Go on, push it out. Go on. You can try, I ain't going anywhere. Go on. Slide against my cock, go on, fuck it",

and of course that would make me cum fucking hard. But at least he would still be inside me...

We had some fantastic sex that night. Wow. It just gets better. Really. The chemistry between us is amazing. And I don't just mean the sex. We are as intimate together now as when we were seeing each other a few months ago. So much of our physical contact is non-sexual and just tender. Its hard to behave like a fuck-buddy with SP when he is stroking my hair, rubbing his nose against mine, and holding my hand. It's confusing when he tells me he split with the teenager just after I left him, that he has slept with no-one else since, but thought I had and that he misses me not living with him anymore. It's difficult when we are lying in each others arms after making love and he wants to know what I am thinking.

This is dangerous territory I am aware of that. I had planned to see SP once more and then close the door. I'm not sure if I can do that now. I don't know where this is going; if it is going, even. I know that I am going to see him again and will see how I feel. I have had enough of the warning bells; my eyes are open, I know what might happen. And I will have to accept responsibility for the outcome of my actions even if the end result is not a happy one. Maybe I am a sucker for pain, I don't know. I just think that if I walk away now, I may regret this for a long time. I could be wrong, but its a risk I am gonna take.

Until then, I shall continue thinking of SP, playing imagining the sex, (we are planning a few nights of fulfilling the others ultimate fantasy -watch this space), and looking forward to our next meeting.

And on that note, I am off for a goodnight fiddle xx

*I lost count at 20. There were more. But obviously I had other stuff to occupy my mind, rather than counting all my climaxes. Lets just say: fucking loads, alright?

P.S. Thank you for all your comments on my pictures. I may or may not remove them. You are thus warned. And in answer to some of your questions:

1. Yes that is me
2. I took the snaps (hence the awkward angles)
3. The quality is shit, I know. Thats what you get with a £14.99 camera
4. No, this is not a porno site. I don't do requests. If you get off on my photos, good for you
5. I got off on taking them. Had 3 plays after I uploaded them. More to come I'm sure...

Due to popular demand...

The Procrastinating Girl with too much time on her hands - Todays Observations:

• That not being busy makes me fidget: my hands wander between my legs and don't stop moving til I have climaxed
• That its very easy to break a jelly vibrator: all you have to do is grind your hips hard enough to bend the motor and its cables, and it no longer functions (damn)
• That spanking myself doesn't really achieve the levels of gratification that I desire: although I get horny and wet, I can't quite get the angle necessary for 2-day red marks
• That I talk dirty on climax: I am amazed to hear myself saying as I cum (on my own in my bedroom)

"Yeah, fuck me, go on, fucking hard, yeah do it, fuck me fuck me!"

• That sometimes masturbating doesn't get rid of my horniness; rather it just takes the edge off it
• That I remind myself of a man sometimes: after cumming I have an uncontrollable desire to fall asleep - only more wanking can keep me awake
• That no matter what I do, I can't seem to squirt (damn it)
• That I often lick my fingers after climaxing; I imagine being my lover tasting me
• That sometimes its painful (yum) to continue playing after the 1st, 2nd and 3rd orgasm
• That I really should be doing other things and remove my hands from in between my legs

Well, perhaps tomorrow...

Maybe its because I am pre-menstrual...

That my mind is drunk with the thoughts of sex
That I am so fucking horny all the time
That I am always thinking of things that turn me on:

Fucking in public (dogging)
Fucking a group of guys (ditto dogging)
Watching a girl getting fucked by a guy, while I play with her

And my favourite:

Being fucked so hard that it hurts, whilst being called a dirty slut; within the confines of my bedroom, I dream of a man fucking me in my ass and calling me a whore. And I imagine how wonderful it would feel to give in, to let go, and to properly relax: something I feel I cannot do when I am in the dominant position. I am wondering whether I should explore this area a little more - I find it a little odd that I get wet at the thought of being so dominated by someone - especially as I am a feminist.

So THIS WEEKS POLL:

DO BEDROOM GAMES REFLECT GENDER ISSUES IN SOCIETY?

And with that thought, I am off for a fiddle...

La Isla Bonita

I'm back. And what a welcome I get: torrential rain, grey skies and the need for my winter jacket. Welcome back to London. It really hit home last night when I got soaked in the West End and found myself sheltering amongst the drunk rowdy out-of-towners whilst side stepping the vomit and urine on the streets of Soho. Lovely. Certainly a reality check far from the sun-soaked Mediterranean beach I came from. Ah well, had to return some time I guess...

Speaking of my hols, I did have a lovely time; caught up with some much needed sleep, sun, and swimming. Just what the doctor ordered. There is a certain peace and tranquility surrounding me now, a drastic change from the stressed out, knackered and hungover person that I was prior to getting away. So all is good.

I did meet someone whilst I was away, and for a while it looked like sex was on the cards. P was like a smaller, more tanned (and Spanish), version of myself. Very cute, deep brown eyes, olive skin and the most fantastic breasts I have ever laid eyes on. They were smaller than mine (probably just a B/C cup), but they absolutely defied gravity. P would wear these semi-see-thru tops and her nipples would be poking through almost skyward in their pertness: they were amazing I tell you, I was transfixed. She was so flirtatious and extremely tactile, always talking about sex (I discovered later she is a fiend just like me).

So when P suggested ripping our bikinis off and swimming naked together, I jumped at the chance. There we both were, breasts bobbing in the clear turquoise water, each of us peeking at the others 'brazilian' bikini lines, giggling like two school girls. And we were talking about sex. All the time. Blow jobs, hand jobs, anal, group sex - no item was too explicit. We discussed seducing a guy together, laughed about it - but it was serious - and I thought: great. Lets find a guy and fuck him together. We had both seen this guy (lets call him Ginger) around the hotel and thought he was cute and when I suggested we get him drunk and fuck him, P seemed up for it.

Before P and I met up later that night, I found Ginger, chatted him up and built a good rapport with him. He was looking me up and down in my short denim skirt and I knew he was up for it. I invited him to join me and P for a drink - which of course he agreed to. We met P and began drinking and I thought it would all go to plan...

But. Ain't there always a but? In a nutshell P got cold feet: she hadn't been with a woman before and didn't want to do it that night. Even though I tried to convince her that we didn't necessarily need to fuck or touch each other in order to fuck him together (well a slight lie: I was planning to play with her breasts whilst she was sitting on his cock), but P wasn't having any of it. She freaked out and I thought fuck it. I told her she could have Ginger and I got a cab home and left her to fuck him alone. [As it turned out, he had Brewers Droop anyway, so it might have been a lost cause if I had been involved]. I felt a bit gutted that I didn't get laid, but he wasn't all that and it wasn't a major disappointment: I went back to the hotel and had a fucking mind-blowing wank thinking about what could have been...

Yep, had many of those whilst I was away. My appetite hasn't diminished one little iota I am pleased to report. It's possibly got more ravenous (if that's possible)...

On the men front it hasn't been all sunny and happy. T is an asshole. After asking me to take his number and call him (which I did), he said he would call me back and I've heard nothing from him since (even though he was suggesting meeting up for a date). When I called him again he said he had "forgotten" to call me back. Oh please. I think I must have 'Asshole Magnet' stamped across my forehead or something - the men I attract - something must be wrong with me...

Which of course I know: I am a masochist. Which currently seems to mean I am a sucker for pain. And not physical. I called SP again, made another arrangement to fuck him this week. I just want one more shag from him 'for the road' and then I am going to call it quits. Seriously. I mean it. He is an asshole who has treated me very badly, doesn't care about me and I deserve better. But he fucks better than any lover I've ever had (and I've had a few - ahem) and I want one last hardcore fuck with him to remember. And with that, I'll be done...