Yes or No?

I picked this fun little post up from Red Pill Wifery, who picked it up from someone else’s blog, who picked it up from someone else’s blog. It’s like herpes!

If you’re into this sort of thing, feel free to play along. If not, whatever. I don’t usually do these things, but this one was interesting enough to play with.

Only two rules: You must answer yes or no. You may not explain unless someone asks.

Taken a picture naked? Yes
Made money illegally? No
Had a one night stand? Yes
Been in a fist fight? Yes
Slept with your best friend? Yes
Had sex in a public place? Yes
Ditched work to have sex? Yes
Slept with a member of the same sex? Yes
Seen someone die? No
Ran from the police? Yes
Woke up somewhere and not remember how you got there? Yes
Worn your partners unmentionables? Yes
Fallen asleep at work? Yes
Used toys in the bedroom? Yes
Ran a red light? Yes
Been fired? Yes
Been in a car accident? Yes
Pole danced or done a striptease? Yes
Loved someone you shouldn’t? Yes
Sang karaoke? Yes
Done something you told yourself you wouldn’t? Yes
Laughed so hard you peed your pants? Yes
Caught someone having sex? Yes
Kissed a perfect stranger? Yes
Shaved your partner? No
Given your private parts a nickname? Yes
Ever gone in public without underwear? Yes
Had sex on a roof top? No
Played chicken? Yes
Mooned/flashed someone? Yes
Do you sleep naked? Yes
Blacked out from drinking? Yes
Felt like killing someone? No
Had sex more than 5 times in one day? Yes
Been with someone because they were in a band? Yes
Taken 10 shots of liquor in a day? Yes
Shot a gun? Yes
Gone outside naked? Yes

… Your Turn! 

… Any Questions?

Saturday’s Break up Film – Forgetting Sarah Marshall

So, continuing on with my two week break-up course, I watched Forgetting Sarah Marshall. To be honest, I couldn’t really take this one seriously as I have a serious thing for Russell Brand, and I laughed most of the way through it. However, I did empathize with the blubbering mess that was trying to forget her, except I hide my blubbering mess away in my room so that people can’t see it. With the exception of you guys, of course.

I’m having a really hard time right now. I’m not sure if it is because I’ve been plan-less all weekend, or because I’m a bit lonely, but I’m reminiscing. A LOT! I had a look back through last year’s Facebook posts and it has hit me like a ton of bricks.

This time last year, my best girlfriend from the other side of the world took me to a movie so that she could tell me she was pregnant. I’m anti-baby, and have been for some time, and she knew that having the kid would change the dynamic of our friendship. I knew she had been planning on having a family in the future, but an accident happened and she was happily married and all that so I was happy for her. I left a few months after she told me anyway.

This time last year, I dressed up and went to a Halloween party on the other side of the world without The Big Love. We were fighting, he went away to work, and I went to the party on my own. I was surrounded by couples the entire night, and I felt like a spare part.

This time last year, we were making up and breaking up every couple of days. It went like this – he went out on a bender for a few days, getting drugged up to the eyeballs and breaking up with me so that he could do whatever it was he wanted. Then he had a come down after the drug fuelled few days and realized that he wanted me to “help” him to get over the drugs and make him a better person. We would be fine for a few days, perhaps a week or so, and then it started again – he went out and got drugged up and broke up with me….. It was a nasty, vicious circle, and one that I’m not sure either of us thought we would get out of at the time.

It was brutal. It hurt a lot. I spent a lot of this time last year crying my eyes out to the best friend over there that, by this point, had been telling me to leave him for some time. She tried to persuade me to move into hers, as did both of my bosses. I wasn’t having any of it. I could help him. I was going to make him better. We were going to be OK. What a total idiot I was.

Drugs have a funny way of changing someone. He wasn’t the person that I fell in love with. He was nasty and evil, and ended up in this spiral of drugs and drink, surrounded by fellow druggies, that he couldn’t get out of. He spent a lot of money. He lost his job. It was the scariest time in my life. I was on the other side of the world, away from my family and friends, trying to make a life with someone that was adamant on pressing the self-destruct button. I don’t know if he still does drugs now, but I’m hoping for his sake, and the sake of his girlfriend’s that he isn’t. I’ve been told by a few people that he looks tired and pale when they’ve bumped into him, but he works a lot of hours so this could mean anything.

I can’t exactly remember when it was, but I think it was around this time last year that he started seeing someone else. I had found two cups in my house during a period of us breaking up and asked him about it. He said it was nothing. Then my best girlfriend told me that her friend had seen The Big Love arm in arm with another girl at the movies. This broke my heart. I knew we had broken up again, but I wasn’t aware that we were seeing other people. It crippled me, and it was at this point that I knew we would never really recover. She went to our gym, and once we had gotten back together again, I told him that I didn’t want him going to that same gym when she was there, and if them bumping into each other was going to be a recurrent thing, that he would have to move gyms. He refused. It was my problem, apparently; therefore I was going to have to deal with it. In reality, he was right. I should have left him when he started seeing someone else. Unfortunately for me, this wasn’t the last girl. There was another one that he started seeing when we broke up for the final time. This one was another situation entirely, a few months later. He used to dirty talk with her on the phone while I was in the house and I could hear him. I could have opened my mouth so that she could hear me, but she didn’t know I was still living there, or anything about me, and he told me if I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, I would have to move out there and then, rather than waiting a few weeks until I had enough money put together to pay for both my flights and sending my stuff home.

The last couple of months that I was there was the worst. I started sleeping on the sofa every night, and only when he was away working for longer periods of time, did I dare to get in the bed. All of my stuff had been moved to the spare room, and I had to get used to the fact that he now had another girlfriend. I had already booked one flight and missed it because he had asked me to stay, but the final flight I booked was the flight I actually left on. From about this time last year until February, I spiraled into a circle of desperation. Every time he told me we could get back together, I clung onto any last hope like a desperate girl drowning. We had a few good weeks between now and the time I left – we went snowboarding and had an awesome day, we spent nights together, got drunk together, cuddled up on the couch together…. It was full of trouble however. Every time we went to certain bars or clubs, other girls that he had been seeing/talking to/texting came up to him, putting themselves on a plate for him, and he didn’t care that I was there. I slept with someone else; two people in fact, and I hated every second of both of them. He was all I wanted. People kept telling me to go out there and date, so I did. I joined an online dating site in the periods that we were apart, and I slept with other people. The only person I could think about was him. Well, the “him” that I fell in love with anyway. I don’t think he knows I slept with other people. He was aware that I was leaving the house on what he thought were dates, but I don’t think he thought I had what it took at the time to actually fuck another man. In reality, he was probably right. I might have been there in body, but in mind I most definitely wasn’t.

The drugs changed him so much that he was barely recognizable by the time I left. He had turned into a compulsive liar, not only to me but to his friends and family as well. I had told his Dad about his drug problem, scared that I was unable to keep a hold of it anymore, and he lied to his Dad. Even when he lost his job, he told me not to tell anyone why he had lost it and kept telling people different stories. These stories soon caught up with him, of course, and people started asking me about it. I was torn between lying for the man I loved, and wanting people to know how bad things really were. He had been bad-mouthing me to everyone, and as much as I know I made mistakes at this point in our relationship, and probably said a few things I didn’t mean, I definitely didn’t deserve the backlash for his drug induced mistakes.

He started playing with my head. We bought a trailer for the sleds and he took me along with him to get it, asking me to name the new sled, kissing me and cuddling me, telling me that he still thought I was “The One” and that he was never going to let me go. He was going to change, and he was going to go back to the man I had fallen in love with, as long as I went to the gym and started working out. I agreed with this – I had put on some weight, especially during these final few months. It’s funny because the last few weeks I was there, I barely ate, I barely slept, and I drank a lot so I ended up losing a lot of weight in a very short time period. One day he loved me, the next he couldn’t stand to be in the same house as me. This went on for a while until eventually; we couldn’t be in the same house at the same time. When he was home, I got in from work and went straight downstairs until he went to bed, and then I went upstairs to sleep on the couch. Honestly, this was the worst I had ever felt in my life. I started cutting myself again, (a story that we will go into another time) and I could see myself falling apart. I wasn’t sleeping properly, I certainly wasn’t eating hardly anything, and I couldn’t handle the situation anymore. By this point, I had stopped telling people about what was going on. I was leaving as soon as I could afford to, and it was over.

I think the thing that makes all of this the hardest, and also possibly the reason I can’t seem to get over him, is that I left a completely different person to the one I fell in love with. The guy I fell in love with was romantic, adorable, a great lover, hilariously funny, had great morals, and actually gave a shit about other people. The guy I left was bitter, mean, angry, and nasty, blamed me for his drug problem, did whatever he wanted and didn’t care who he hurt in the process. It was as though I had fallen in love with Dr. Jekyll and left Mr. Hyde. I know this is probably the case with a lot of relationships, but this was something else. The Hubby, for example, was an asshole throughout our entire relationship; I just chose to ignore it and thought I could make him a better person. I’m THAT girl that thinks she can turn a bad guy into a good guy. It never works, ladies; never fall for it.

So here I am. Reminiscing about things that happened a year ago today, still incapable of getting over a man that quite spectacularly ripped my heart to shreds. In all honesty, I don’t think it’s entirely him. I think my heart has had enough of being pulled from pillar to post; bad relationship after bad relationship; more dramas in every one than the ones before. My poor heart has been through it all. It has been cheated on, lied to, beaten up, destroyed by drugs, ripped apart by broken promises, and now it has finally realized that love hurts. Even now though, I can’t hate those guys. I can’t hate The Big Love even though I really wish I could. I still love him. The guy that could make me pee my pants with laughter. The guy that could make my knees buckle from a single kiss. The guy that could give me goose bumps all over just from the way he looked at me, and managed to make me feel completely safe even in the most dangerous of situations. Drugs destroyed that guy. Drugs and the failed relationships before me. He once told me that whenever he gets to the two year anniversary mark of any relationship, he falls apart and destroys it. He starts taking drugs again, cheats, lies, and hurts the girls that he is with. Guess where we were in our relationship. Yep, you guessed it – just coming up to two years when it all started kicking off. He predicted the end of our relationship right at the beginning, yet still I threw myself into it. I thought I was the one girl that could change him. And once again, I was proven wrong.



The Kid Factor….

Friday’s breakup film went out the window. Firstly, I was pissed. Secondly, I went to a concert and had a rocking time.

Why was I pissed? Well, One Ball and I had plans this weekend. We were going to hang out on Saturday night, and Sunday, because I had the entire day off work, we were going to have a picnic, weather permitting. If the picnic was off, we were going to spend the day together doing something – perhaps dinner, walking, talking, ice skating, etc.

Anyway, he cancelled. One of his kids was sick, and he to drive to where they were with the Mother to take care of the other four, while the one was in the hospital with a temperature or whatever.

I do appreciate that I have absolutely no right to be angry about the cancelled plans, especially as he had been honest about having kids from the start. I say honest; he actually lied about how many kids he had. First it was three, then it was five. He lied because he hadn’t dated much since the divorce, and the women that he had dated had basically laughed in his face when he told them that he had five kids. He was married and with the ex-wife for a long time, and all the kids were with her. Even still, did this guy not have a television?! Five kids is a bit extreme, especially when you consider that he is only on the downside slope to 30.

I explained to him that the fact that he had kids at all was a big thing for me – I never date guys with kids, simply because I’m not that great with them. I couldn’t have cared less if he had three kids, five kids, or a hundred kids; they were a LONG way off being in my life, and he should never have lied. We got over this, of course, and are stumbling along just fine. Ish…

Anyway, I know I am selfish, and getting angry over the cancelled plans is a tad out of order, but this is exactly why I don’t date guys with kids – I hate being cancelled on! I am flaky, and always late for everything, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it when I am left waiting, or stuck without plans. I now have nothing to do this weekend, and I’m not getting laid. Perfect. Pffft!

Up until now, his kids haven’t bothered me. He spends two weekends per month with them, which means I get two weeks out of the month to do whatever it is that I want to do. I don’t have to meet them because they live a long way away from me, and we haven’t had any money problems as yet, which I am expecting to happen at some point because he has five kids and it’s the run up to Christmas. This weekend was the first weekend that his kids have played havoc with my life, and if I’m completely honest, I don’t really like it.

At my age, guys having kids is something I have to get used to. The guys I’m coming across are either too young for me, old enough for me but no one would have kids with, or already have kids. This is even more so the case for the town that I live in, which is full of undesirable people. You know the type – they wouldn’t be out of place on an episode of the Jeremy Kyle show. I can understand a guy having one kid, but five? This means the risk of them interfering in our “whatever it is” is five times higher!

Of course this brings me to a problem – how much do I really like this guy? We click on a few levels, but not all the time. I am definitely thinking of him more than I have in recent posts here on my blog. The sex is out of this world, and he is full of compliments for me. He actually said this to me –

“I want to treat you like a Princess, and fuck you like a whore!”

Could this guy BE any more perfect for me? He’s funny, smart, cute (his looks are definitely growing on me), kind, great in bed, has a pretty awesome cock, and has the best smell EVER. All those good points and five big negatives – the kids. Oh and another negative – I’m STILL a smoker despite repeated attempts to give up, and he doesn’t smoke. I guess that’s not really a negative though; perhaps it’ll be the encouragement I need to actually give up once and for all.

I just don’t know what I want to do about this guy. I do like him, but I’m not sure if we are more “friends with benefits” than relationship material. I know one thing though – I’m going to need to make up my mind, and pretty damn fast. He’s already very much into me, to the point where he has told me he is starting to fall for me. His work also offered to let him move back up to where his kids are, and he said no…. because of me. He is only down my way for another month and a bit, as he is here on a course. They offered to let him “go home” sooner, and he said no because of me!!! What the hell am I meant to do about this now? Which brings me to another point – I don’t think My Mr. Grey and I are meant to be dating other people….

Despite my repeated attempts to find out what is going on with us, I still haven’t had much of a response one way or another, which meant that I started dating again – One Ball. He told me the other night that he was basically waiting for me to decide that I want babies and then he will have them with me. It wasn’t a completely random remark; I was watching a baby related program on the TV and we were discussing it via text. I’ve not seen him since our two day fuck fest in August, and I wasn’t under the impression that we were “together” seeing as he avoided all attempts I had made to talk about it. However, he is now making plans to find work down here so that he can be closer to me, as well as talking about me going to see him for New Year’s. I think I may have misjudged the entire situation, and left myself in somewhat of a pickle.

As usual, my love life is catching up with me and biting me on the ass. The Guy I couldn’t get rid of is trying to worm his way back in – he lost his job (HA! Karma!) and had a date last night. Apparently this single Mama fucked him until all hours this morning….. on a first date? How classy! I think he’s trying to make me jealous again, but don’t worry folks, I’m not buying it.

My weekend will now consist of sex-texting My Mr. Grey, wondering what I should do about One Ball, and making The Guy I couldn’t get rid of feel bad about himself because I have a job and he doesn’t.

Oh the joys….




Thursdays film – My Five Ex-Girlfriends

Another night, another film. This one is a bit odd but was suggested to me by One Ball. He doesn’t know about my current obsession with The Big Love, nor does he know about my two week breakup crash course, but he stole some films from my hard drive, came across this one and told me I must watch it. Apparently it’s good for a breakup. So here I am….

There were a few things about this film that started the cogs turning. At one point, the guy changed his attitude and personality to match what the girl on the date was looking for. I definitely do this in long term relationships. I tend to “morph” into the guy, regardless of how hard I tried to prevent it.

This actually didn’t happen with The Big Love however. In fact, I went totally the other way from the girl that he was actually looking for. It was weird – it wasn’t really “me”, nor was it the girl he wanted. I lost myself for a while, and it seems to be taking an awfully long time to find me again.

Aside from him, there was definite morphing happening. Does this happen with everyone?

In the film, he then goes on to say that the girl he had been so “in touch with” had now become obsessed with the worlds most unattractive shoe? Basically, he discusses how differences occur within a relationship and how you must accommodate each other. Did I accommodate these men? Or was I incapable of keeping my opinions to myself, thus destroying everything we actually shared? Did I really care about the “unattractive shoe”, or in my case with The Big Love, the really awful headband he used to wear at the gym, or was I just opening my mouth for the sake of it?

I hated The Big Love’s sudden passion for the gym, and the fact that it kept coming between us because I just wasn’t that much of a gym bunny. All of a sudden he was buff and beautiful, and I was the fat girl that didn’t look good in photos next to him.

I hated the relationship he had with his best friend. I thought he lead him down the wrong path, especially with my guy’s drug riddled past. The same went for the tattoo artist.

I hated the fact I could never get time off work to actually enjoy activities with The Big Love, thus resenting it when he went and did them anyway. That certainly wasn’t his fault, but I blamed him nevertheless.

The thing I found intriguing about this film, and I guess the moral of tonight’s story, was that it had me thinking about all the things I did wrong in the relationship, and how I could potentially have destroyed it all. I did give him a hard time about things that were out of his control. I also started hating the things he enjoyed with a passion, because I couldn’t actively enjoy doing them with him. I hated roller blading because I didn’t have the patience for it and I wasn’t very good. He loved it and did it on an almost daily basis. These activities became his escape from me, and in turn, I grew to hate them.

The guy in the film then goes on to talk about the quirks that you pick up from each other in the relationship. I started picking up on his phrases – “perpy dawg” for example, when talking about every dog we came across, and “I can’t do it” in a faux-Indian accent that he had picked up from a film.

I don’t think he ever really picked up on any of my quirks, but I definitely stole a few of his. That must have annoyed him. I know it annoys me when people pick up my things. For example, I use the word “gay| when someone does something cute for me, or compliments me, and I don’t know how to take it. For example – “You look really cute tonight!” he says. I reply – “Gay”

The Guy I couldn’t get rid of it used to steal my “gay” phrase all the damn time, and it proper pissed me off. Get your own damn phrases. Now I can understand how picking up and stealing The Big Love’s quirks must have annoyed him.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this blog post. This film is definitely one that gets the brain thinking. It has me realizing that, in a relationship, I am truly irritating. Everything this guy talks about – all the annoying things that happen with certain people in a relationship, I do! I morph, I pick up quirks, I daydream futures with people when I know there is no chance of it actually happening. I can’t keep my opinions to myself. Things that I once loved about people start to bug me. I’m no longer obsessing with The Big Love. Now I’m obsessing over myself!!!

Back to reality and One Ball came over tonight. This time, however, we didn’t have sex. We teased of course; I laid on my front and he planted soft kisses all over my back, stroking me lightly with his fingers. I kissed all over his chest and stomach. It was different from what we normally do, but I didn’t hate it. It was something more than just sex… I think tonight I needed comfort, and he was there to give it to me. We cuddled for a long time, just chilling and talking. It was nice. Maybe there is more to this guy and our “whatever it is” than I first thought. Perhaps my breakup crash course is actually starting to work?

I do feel sorry for you guys having to read all this soppy shit. I know you’re just waiting for the sex…. Bear with me! The sex will come back, I promise! And hopefully once I’ve got the ex out of my head, things will go right back to normal – hot, sweaty, naughty, hardcore sex!

For now, I want to say thank you! Thanks to all of your comments, likes and reads, and for bearing with me on my long & complicated journey. Whether or not you like to believe it, you guys are actually helping xoxoxo

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind – Would You Erase Me?

Wednesday’s film – Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind.


I don’t normally follow through with much in life. I have the attention span of a goldfish. However, my two week breakup course is still in full force. Every night for two weeks, I am going to watch another movie that you’re meant to watch after a breakup. Given its a few months late, but hey, later is better than never and all that bullshit. I’m going to cry all the tears I never cried. I’m going to do it all, and then hopefully, he’ll be out of my system. It’s probably not going to work, but who really needs an excuse to watch tear-jerker movies and eat lots of chocolate ice cream whilst crying in bed? Not me 🙂

The film is a thought provoking one. Jim Carey and Kate Winslet play two very different characters from what we are used to seeing them play. It’s a good film though.

The jist of the film, for those that haven’t seen it, is whether or not you would choose to erase all memories of an ex, if you had the option.

“Would you erase me?”

This had me thinking. Would I? Could I? If I were to forget about exes, huge chunks of my life would disappear. I would never have travelled so far and wide if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have been through any of the shitty experiences; I would never have become the person I am today.

I wouldn’t know how it feels to be cheated on. This means that I would love more freely and I wouldn’t be as cautious as I am today when it comes to giving my heart away. I wouldn’t instantly become curious when I get one of those “gut feelings” that, up to now, have always been right. I wouldn’t question the guy when they were working late. I certainly wouldn’t drive myself mad with all the things that COULD be happening while they are not by my side. Saying that, I wouldn’t even have a “gut feeling”, would I?

I wouldn’t have been beaten by my husband. Or that guy at school. Or the guy that punched me right outside my house. Or the “incident” with The Big Love. I wouldn’t flinch whenever a guy raised his voice, or made a sudden movement. I wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweats.

I wouldn’t have that scar just above my lip. Or the scar on my back from when I was thrown into the a door handle. Or the scars on my feet from where I was dragged around a parking lot. Or the scar on my hand from where I was stabbed with a screw driver. Or the scars on my legs that I did to myself. I definitely wish I could erase those parts of my life. However, if I hadn’t been through those things before, or at least remembered them, I would probably forgive again. And it’s true what they say – a leopard cannot change his spots. It WILL happen again. They probably weren’t sorry.

I wouldn’t have felt the happiness that I felt when I was with those guys. Being curled up on the couch beneath a blanket watching The Big Love play video games. Eating a midnight picnic with Number 4, (the guy that punched me in the face outside my apartment) to celebrate our one year anniversary. Or the amazing sex that we had. The comfortable feeling I had with the husband when we were actually doing alright for a few weeks. If I couldn’t remember all of that, I wouldn’t know how GOOD love could feel. It’s hard to remember the good as well as the bad, but the good makes it all worthwhile, right?

I wouldn’t have travelled at all if it hadn’t have been for those guys. I wouldn’t have made it to the other side of the world. I wouldn’t have moved to the other country in Europe, and in turn, I wouldn’t have seen all the other countries that I did. I wouldn’t have gone to the war zone. All of these things happened because of those guys, and in turn, I wouldn’t have met those amazing friends and enemies, or experienced all those things I did. And those things I wouldn’t change for the world. Those memories, the good and the bad, were the best memories of my life.

I wouldn’t have felt the pain of a miscarriage. Nor would I have felt the joy of marriage. There wouldn’t have been family feuds, or get-togethers. Would I really want to erase all of that stuff? As much as I’m in a slump right now, unable to get The Big Love out of my head, wallowing in self pity eight and a half months too late, would I really be prepared to lose all of those memories?

No, I wouldn’t. I love those memories, and the entire process of falling in love, falling out of love, and everything in between. I have felt love, and I have lost it, and that’s more than a lot of people can say.

Could you really hate your time with someone so much that you would be willing to completely erase all memory from them out of your mind? As much as those people hurt you, or weren’t what you wanted them to be, didn’t they help to mould you into the person that you have become today? I know that I would be a very different person if it weren’t for those guys, and possibly one that I wouldn’t have liked much. I know when not to forgive, when enough is really enough, the power of drugs over a person and the way they are, and much more…. I like to think I’m smarter now. Bitter, hurting, yet smarter.

So in conclusion, no I wouldn’t want to erase them. Would you?

Today’s Breakup Film, Yesterday’s “Get Over Him” Fuck


Today I decided upon another breakup film. I’m slowly working my way through the list I should have gone through when The Big Love and I first broke up.

Sunday – 500 Days of Summer
Monday – The Holiday
Tuesday – Closer

Why am I doing this? Because I can. Because I have to. Because I’m driving myself crazy with my pathetic obsession over The Big Love and I am determined to get him out of my system once and for all. It’s been 8 and a half months and this has to stop. Now.

I had originally planned to spend the next two weeks making my way through the breakup list of films, crying myself to sleep, and getting him out of my system. Today I made progress; I threw away the cards. You know the ones – the birthday cards, Christmas cards, valentines day cards… I threw them all out today. Next would be the letters. Some day soon, but not today. The cards were purging enough.

Anyway, my plans were somewhat skuppered last night because One Ball came over. He came over and we fucked. As much as I like this guy, last night he was my toy. Nothing more, nothing less.

Within minutes of him being here, we were making out. A few minutes more and we were naked. Now I don’t know what it is about this guy, but I’m a different person when I’m with him. I don’t know if I’ve built up some confidence, or just act differently because he’s someone new, but sex with the lights on doesn’t terrify me with him. In fact, I love it! The usual games commenced – his wandering hands slid into my wet underwear and got me off….twice! It was good and it was hard. It’s been a while since my last sexual escapade, which is probably the reason behind the obsession with The Big Love again. I digress…

My jeans came off, his top too. It was impatient – his jeans were halfway down his legs and my sweater still on when the games began. He tried to go down on me, but yet again I said no. The ropes came out… He wanted to tie me up. Still I said no. I probably would have let him go down on me if he had been more persistent. Instead, we settled on a compromise. He teased the fuck out of me. He held my hands above my head by the wrists and told me he was in charge. He wouldn’t let me kiss him…. He was right there and he wouldn’t let me! It drove me crazy. His cock was just there; he was millimetres away from entering me and he waited for what felt like an eternity. Then I felt it…. One fucking hard thrust; it hurt and I loved it!

From there, things are a blur. He fucked me hard, and rolled me over. I rode him hard and I came hard. I was over the bannister, (I have an attic bedroom) and then I was hanging out of the skylight window while he pounded me from behind. Then we found my computer chair. I rode him facing away from him, then he turned me around and I was straddling him. My hands were tugging at his hair, and his hands were pulling mine. He bit my collarbone and growled at me again – “I’m still in charge!”

It took an age and he didn’t cum. We decided to stop for a breather; I had a smoke and he had a drink. He said that he had stopped himself from cumming within a minute of being inside me, and now he was struggling to cum. I asked him why? I had already cum twice before he even fucked me; it was Okay for him to be quick. If I hadn’t cum, it would have been a different matter. He said he wished I had told him that before. We spooned for a bit, and then I did the “Butt nudge.” You know the one – you nudge your ass towards his cock and hope he takes the hint. He did. Within a few minutes, we had both cum and stayed there for a few minutes, basking in the scent of our own sex.

The other thing that amazes me about being with One Ball is how comfortable I feel after we have fucked. I was naked; he was naked, and we just laid there for a while, letting our breathing subside, our bodies intertwined. He kissed my neck, and I held his hand. He’s into me. I can tell. How can I tell him that last night was just about sex? Fucking amazing sex, I’ll give him that, but sex still the same. There was no feeling, just pure unadulterated passion. His back had my scratch marks everywhere. There was a bite mark that I left on his chest. His shoulders had blood where I had dug my nails in, and his hair was disheveled from me tugging at it with fury. It was a war zone. A delicious war zone.

It was good – I needed to get some Big Love tension out, and One Ball was my punch bag. I feel bad for him really, he doesn’t know what is going on in my head, or how much I’m using him. He’s the guy I can have angry, passionate sex with, and he thinks I’m the girl he’s going to fall for. He’s already told me how much he is into me, and how much that scares him. I’m going to break his heart, and if I’m brutally honest, I’m not really that bothered. I didn’t realize I had this wealth of anger within me, and the only way that I seem to be able to get it out, without hurting myself, is by hurting someone else. For the moment, its during vicious sex, but after that….? Who knows?

Could I eventually learn to turn this great sex into something more? There are other factors behind me not wanting more with him – the fact he has kids, the fact he doesn’t want anymore, My Mr. Grey, he’s only here on a course…. Ideally I should tell him that we have no chance of going any further but I can’t do it. Nor do I want to. What kind of a person have I become? I can tell you what I have become. The line I just head in the film “Closer” has summed it up in one sentence – “You fucked up slag”

Do you want to know something? I’ve realized that I’m not looking for a relationship. That’s why My Mr. Grey and I aren’t in a real relationship yet. I’m not ready. That’s why The Guy I couldn’t get rid of wasn’t enough, and The Lapdog before him. In reality, I’m not a “fucked up slag” like he said in the film – I’m a girl that has experienced a wealth of pain, over and over again,and I want to have nasty, passionate, angry sex with a man that’s going to give me that without commitment. I want the best of both worlds – sex that you would normally only get in a relationship, minus the relationship.

I guess I’m just trying to fuck The Big Love out of my system. And every other asshole before him that fucked me up.