“I thought you would have called me by now.”

“Sorry. I wanted to.” But didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.

“You wanted to?”

“Yeah. But I felt kinda weird after being so drunk”. I delayed calling you because I was worried that you might be too into it.

“So, you regret that night then?”

“No, no not at all. It was great.” What I could remember anyway.

“That stuff you said in your blog though, it sounded like you regretted doing anal with me...”

“Not at all. It was great. But I do regret drinking so much and feeling like I was out of control.” I scared myself doing anal with you: it was something sacred and special that I shared with SP. Doing it with you made me miss him.

“So you really don’t remember much?”

“Not really. But I do remember enjoying myself. A lot.” I wish I could recall what your cock looked and felt like; what a tragic waste being too drunk to remember.

“I had fun too. But I remember everything.”

“Really? Would you mind answering me some questions then?” Oh god, this is going to sound so offensive.

“Go ahead.”

“Um. Right. When we sat at the kitchen table and the others were across the room, you had your cock in your hand, yeah?” I remember how much that turned me on: your telling me to "Suck it".

“Yup”

“Did I suck it?” If I did I am such a slut.

“You most certainly did.”

“Wow.” I am such a slut.

“You leaned over the table, and gave me some fucking great head actually. Your tongue piercing felt amazing”.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that it adds to it.” Jesus, my friend was ten feet away and I was sucking a cock at her table. How uncivilised of me. I wonder what it tasted like.

“It was lovely.”

“Did we have sex for long?” I remember throwing up, passing out and having three orgasms, but not your cock inside me.

“A couple of hours I guess. You really don’t remember, do you?”

“Sadly no. Um, look I have to ask you: did you come?” I remember our using condoms; I don’t recall you pumping yourself into me.

“Ha ha, yes, twice. You were fucking hot I can tell you. You really fucking turned me on.”

“Thanks. I’m glad to hear you had fun too.” Thank fuck for that, I was feeling very guilty that I was the only one pleasured that night.

“Fun? Girl, let me tell you, doing anal with you was fucking amazing, I had a lot of fun.”

“It was great for me too.” It scared me how much I begged you to do it.

“Actually Girl, I feel honoured that I was your second. Especially after now knowing what you wrote about it being so special for you.”

“Thanks.” My head has been in a mess trying to figure out how I could do something like that with someone I have no feelings for.

“You were my first actually.”

“Your first? I thought you said you’d done it before? You certainly seemed experienced in it.” There’s no way my arse could have been fucked like that by an anal virgin.

“Not in anal.”

“What then?” Oh dear, I think I know.

“You were my first since the break-up.”

“Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Liar.

“Yeah, it was a big deal for me actually.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.” Liar liar pants on fire.

“My head was all messed up after that night, I suppose it is fair to say.”

“I bet. It must have been hard for you.” Oh fuck. I didn’t want to be the rebound one. Fuck.

“And I thought we had got on really well. So I was confused when I didn’t hear from you.”

“We did get on well; we had lots of fun. I didn’t contact you straight away because I am in a weird place right now and I am not sure what I want.” I didn’t call you because when we woke up, you smiled at me, and pulled me close, and stroked my hair. And when you looked in my eyes, I saw a longing that terrified me. You were so affectionate and caring and loving and it all felt wrong after knowing you for less than 24 hours. I don’t want to be the replacement for her; I can’t be. I had to make sure you weren’t going to get attached to me, so I let the time pass until I felt it was safe to call.

“Me too. I am all mixed up. Not sure what I am doing right now.”

“So listen, it doesn’t need to be a bad thing. We had fun, right? We get on well. We don’t need to be a head-fuck for each other; we can have a laugh instead.” If you weren’t freshly out of a long-term relationship, heart-broken, with a child in tow, I would consider you as Boyfriend Material. But for my own emotional safety I am making sure you stay as a fun one-night stand. Though I would love to revisit fucking you whilst sober.

“Yeah. Perhaps we could meet up next week, or something?”

“Ok, let’s speak then.” If only you could be a fuck buddy, then it would be fine. Whilst you’re pining for her, fucking me is only going to cut you up.

“You gonna write about this on your blog?”

“Probably. But perhaps not.” Of course I will. I am bad like that.

“Are you sure you don’t want to send me the address?!”

“Keep dreaming honey, it ain’t never gonna happen.” God I hope he doesn’t do a Google search on the text I sent him. Fuck!

“Fair enough.”

“Normally no-one I write about gets to read what I have said. I like to keep things separate like that; that way I can express myself freely.” And if I insult them, there’ll be no comeback.

“Well thank you for sending me what you wrote about that night then. It made me hot reading it: my cock is getting hard right now thinking about it.”

“Excellent.” Mmm, a delicious thought.

“And I feel honoured you let me fuck you up the arse; it was truly magnificent.”

“Ta luv. It was pretty damn great for me too.” Though my arse cheeks were sore for two days afterwards.