It Was Short. It Was Sweet. But We Tried.

Today was hard work. Let’s just say someone got sent to prison and it was the most gut-wrenching thing that I ever saw. The devastation of the people that were left behind, even if it would end up being for only a few months, was heart breaking to watch. It was a situation that I wished I hadn’t gotten involved in but I had no choice. I know I’m not giving much away but trust me, I had no choice.

On the way home from the court following the sentencing, all I could think about was telling Big Love about what had just happened. I really wanted to message him on Facebook and let him know. I didn’t, of course. I probably should do, shouldn’t I?

I heard a song today. The words in the song were exactly the words I wish I could say to Big Love.

It was short. It was sweet. But we tried. Yes, we tried.

One Ball and I are just going along as we do. He’s meant to be down my way tomorrow but he’s staying with his Best Friend who has, thankfully, been quiet. There has been a text or Facebook message or post every day since OB left, which sort of lead me to think that maybe he was thinking about me too, but then I put this down to sheer stupidity and the crush is kinda disappearing. Thank God.

I feel really deflated tonight. I want to write so much more but I haven’t got the focus to put it all down in black and white. It’s been a pretty brutal few days and I’m actually quite looking forward to going back to work tomorrow to give myself a break from everything else that’s been going on. I just wish OB hadn’t sprung the fact that he was going to be down tomorrow for just over a week, especially with my impending house move…..

I just want to sleep.



Well, guys & girls. It’s been an interesting kinda weekend.

I’m still crushing. In fact, I’m crushing a goodun’ right about now. Best Friend has got me thinking some bad, bad things and this lead to some pretty fucking amazing sex between OB and I. I’m still stuck in between a rock and a hard place and man, am I loving it!

Now I know how bad this sounds – I shouldn’t be having GREAT sex with OB just because of Best Friend but I can assure that it’s not that. I’m not thinking about BF when I’m sleeping with OB – I’m thinking about OB. I don’t want it to be BF that I’m screwing – I want it to be OB. Something has just come alive and I don’t know what the hell it is.

Although I couldn’t wait for OB to leave yet again, I still miss him now he’s gone. I don’t want to break up with him. It’s exactly the same as it was the last time this happened – I don’t want to be with him anymore for the entire time that he is away and as soon as he gets here, everything is fine and although he does still annoy me sometimes, it’s nowhere near as bad as I think it is. I guess that sorts that bit out; I’m not ready to break up with him and he does, in fact, still make me very happy. And our sex this weekend was amazing. I just kinda let go and went with it – a lot of my old nerves are slipping away. I hate the fact that he is breaking down my barriers but I’m loving the effect it is having on me, my mind and my body.

All of a sudden this weekend, I felt sexier than I ever had before. I pranced around naked in front of OB, I strutted my stuff in a barely there top and leggings in front of BF, I jazzed my hair up, I switched up my makeup, and I celebrated the warm weather like I owned it. I fucked OB like it was the last time we were ever going to fuck, and I realized that actually, I’m not looking so bad these days. I seem to have found this little confidence boost from somewhere deep inside of me and although I sound really big headed right now, I actually feel okay about myself.

Yes I still want to lose weight and I still have a way to go before I reach my target weight and finally get those boudoir shots that I have always dreamed about, but right now; I’m kinda happy with the way I look. My butt and legs look awesome, especially in heels. My boobs are firmer, my tummy seems flatter, my shoulders are starting to look more pronounced, and even my arms are getting more toned. I’m doing okay.

I rode him this weekend and almost made him cum. He came for the first time fucking me doggy style too. He pulled my hair, we talked dirty to each other, we kissed a thousand times more than we normally do, and it was just immense. It was more than immense, it was crazy good.

Before the night of the crazy sex, OB had picked me up from work and we travelled to a local hospital to see BF after a back operation. Armed with a Get Well Soon card, a mini picnic of chocolate éclairs and mini sausage rolls, and a night filled with Eurovision, we sat with BF all night, chatting and laughing, mocking and messing around. It was actually one of the best Saturday night’s I’d had in a long time, which is saying something.

I really like this guy. He is funny and good-spirited, an adventure junkie just like me, and mocked me in the fun, flirty way that I interpreted it to be. I don’t think he likes me like I like him. I think my mind has gone into crush overload. It definitely went into crush overload when he took his sweater off and stood before me in a tight white top that showed his pretty impressive arms, complete with veins. You know the arms I mean – strong, veiny, beautiful arms. Grrrr. He showed me the veins when we had the old injection conversation you have with everyone in hospital – the devastating stories of how difficult it was for a nurse to find a good vein, etc.

The nurse came back later on and stabbed him in the stomach with some sort of injection. The next few hours were a blur as all I can remember is him pulling up his top to show me his rock hard, slightly tanned flat stomach plus stab wound. If I remember rightly, he showed me that tummy a few times. Oh and a whole bit more when he pulled his bottoms down a bit later on to show OB something else. It was like a fucking strip show. Completely innocent to him – a total head fuck to me.

I couldn’t keep it together – I was like a giggly fucking school girl. I’m sure OB knows what’s going on. It’s fucking me up. I shouldn’t need to talk to him for a few days now so hopefully it’ll calm down a bit or I’ll figure out a way to get it under control. I stalked him a couple of times on FB as we are friends on there and every time I see a picture of him, all I could think of was that stomach, those arms, that hair…

Back to the here and now and things are okay between me and OB for now. He’s gone back up the road and I’m back to having my own space back. Oh and lusting after my Brown Bear from work. God I’m like a dog in heat right now. That’s another story for another day…

So that’s all folks. Nothing more to declare for now. How has your weekend been?


Advice Please?

Right guys and girls, I need your help. I’m stuck in between a rock and a hard place, literally. I don’t know what to do about One Ball and I. I don’t know whether I need to break up with him and just call it done, or whether I should give him the shot he probably deserves and see it through. Oh and just to throw something else into the already complicated mix, I have a massive crush on his best friend.

I’ve been texting said best friend for a few days as I’m sorting something out for him. My job involves selling something that he wants. I now appreciate that makes me sound like a hooker, but it’s must less exciting than that I’m afraid. I don’t really want to say what I do for a living but let’s just call it retail. Anyway, I’m sorting something out for OB’s best friend, for now we shall call him Best Friend. We have been texting about work and today, he came in to sort some paperwork out. I couldn’t look at him in the face. He’s not the hottest guy in the world and he’s not really my type but man, is there something about him?!

He has longer, scraggy hair, a tall, thin frame, a pouty little mouth, and a pretty good sense of style. He doesn’t talk with the accent that a lot of guys around here have, and I think he actually managed to get a half decent education. I can have an actual conversation with him. I can’t look him in the face while I talk to him, but I felt that I could still talk to him.

I wanna fuck him so bad, I don’t even know how to begin to describe it. It’s like the lust that I haven’t felt for months with anyone has all come surging back, and the entire time he was with me at my place of work, I just wanted to fall to my knees and take him in my mouth. It’s literally all I could think about it. It’s all I can think about right now and I’m sure it’s something I’ll be thinking about when I get into bed later on.

What the fuck is up with this? I’m in the process of trying to work out whether or not I want to still be with my boyfriend and all I can think about is fucking his best friend. I’m not just talking buddy – I’m talking his ACTUAL best friend. Fuuuuuck.

I can’t see OB and I working out at all. The thought of him coming down this weekend actually fills me with the dread and the only reason I’m looking forward to him coming down is so that I can get laid in the first time in weeks. The only problem with that theory is that I had some rather infuriating stomach cramps earlier on today at work, which suggests to me that Mother Nature is going to put a bloody great big dampener on my fuck-filled weekend.

The lust that I once felt for OB has completely gone. The interest that I had for him seems to have disappeared completely. It’s like I literally lost interest in him overnight. He didn’t do anything wrong, aside from turning into a jealous, paranoid boyfriend, but yet he still can’t hold my attention. We reached the six month mark and he completely fell off my radar.

I’m torn right now. Part of me wants to stay with him and see where things go. We do have a lot of fun together and he does have a pretty fabulous cock, but he takes far too long to cum, giving him a blowjob doesn’t appear to be happening as I want it to and I just can’t live that way, and on top of that, I faked it the last time he was here because I knew, for sure, that he wasn’t going to make me cum. I didn’t just fake it the once either. This terrifies me – I’ve never been a woman to fake it. Ever. If it’s not happening, I take control or sort myself out once he has finished and needs a break. I’m not the sort of girl to fake it. What the fuck is happening to me?

He has kids. He has had the snip. He doesn’t want any more kids. He doesn’t want to get married. I don’t want those things either but it would be nice to know that if I ever changed my mind, there would be a chance for me to do something about it.

He has kids. Come on – those fuckers are always going to bug me. They could be the cutest little darling’s ever to have walked the planet and I’d still hate them. Ew.

We’re not going to work out, are we? There are just too many things that aren’t right about him for me. There are always going to be flaws. I’m scared that Big Love set the bar so high, no other guy is ever going to be able to come close. Am I ever going to be able to care and love for someone as much as I loved him? I certainly don’t love OB that much and I can honestly say that I don’t think I ever, ever will. Does that mean that OB isn’t right for me, or just that we have a different kind of love to what I had with the Big Love?

He has bought me the shoes I talked about in my previous post. He actually ordered them for me. They are hand painted, completely customized, one of a kind shoes and he has bought them for me. There is a waiting list of about 8 to 12 weeks but he bought them for me. If we broke up, he wouldn’t give them to me and that would make me really sad. Like uber sad. It would break my heart. Not that I’m saying that I would stay with him for the shoes but it seems a shame that I wouldn’t have a pair of shoes to remember him by. I seem to have a pair of shoes that reminds me of everyone else.

Really guys, what do I do? I’m going to let him come down this weekend, just to see how I feel when he is down here. If it is anything like the last time, my feelings of wanting to break up completely disappeared when he was here. He annoyed me, of course, but I didn’t completely hate that he was here.

I don’t know what to do. Advice please?


Thought of the Day – Tuckus Lingus? Meet Number 27

Right ladies and gentlemen, I have a question for you – licking butt, yes or no? I watched Sex and the City earlier on – the one where Miranda’s current guy, Marathon Man, licks her butthole when they sleep together for the first time. I asked the Bestie I’ve Never Had a Dalliance With about his opinion on “rimming”; a term I’ve heard thrown around a few times, and I was quite surprised by what he responded with.

I don’t mind doing it to a guy. (Me, not the Bestie – he’s not gay, although I’ve often had my doubts) I hate it being done to me though. When I get nervous, I fart and when a guy is licking my asshole, I get nervous. Although I’ve never actually farted on a guy’s mouth before, I can see it happening, hence the fact I avoid it like the plague.

I’m not really a fan of a finger in my ass either. I often get the feeling that the guy is poking around for something, and I know what lives in that hole – if he pokes hard enough, there’s a good chance that he is going to find it and as we’ve already found out, I’ve had my fair share of shit-related sex stories. See “Anal Sex – What’s the Deal?” if you don’t believe me.

I don’t mind anal sex, of course. I can’t believe OB and I have managed to go seven months without doing it. We figured we should figure out when our one year anniversary would be and we decided to go from the day that we first slept together. That means that we have been officially together for seven months. 5th October – that’s when we first slept together.

He keeps making mentions to the fact that I still haven’t let him fuck me in the ass, of course. He can just go on mentioning. Between me and you, I am having a few problems with my digestive tract recently and I’m finding it more and more difficult to use the bathroom. I don’t want anyone going up there if I can’t seem to get anything out… you get me?

The Bestie said that he would do it (rimming) on a girl as long as she was shaven and he would probably let a girl do it to him in reciprocation. I hadn’t expected this response from him. It surprised me. He’s been doing that a lot recently.

I remember one guy that I did it to and in fact, I think he may have been the only guy I’ve ever done it to. I don’t ever remember doing it to the Big Love but my finger was up his ass a lot when we were high on blow so I probably did do it but just don’t remember.

I guess while we are here, we should talk about the guy who had my tongue around his butthole. Let me introduce you to Number 27.

Number 27 is the guy that I like to call The Guy with the Big Ears. For now, we shall shorten him to Big Ears.

When I first met Big Ears, he was a tall, weedy guy with a cracking smile and a beautiful sense of humor. He was a twat for sure, but there was something about his class joker ways that was very endearing to me. It wasn’t long before I had a huge, raging crush on him. There was one problem. I was in the other European country and I was married to The Hubby.

Hubby went away. I went out to play. There’s no other way to put it really. Yes I could come out with the usual excuses – I didn’t get any love and attention from the Hubby and I went looking for it elsewhere. Hubby didn’t make me feel good about myself anymore so I went looking elsewhere. I didn’t have a reason to feel love or adoration for the Hubby anymore so I wanted someone else to project my feelings on to. Big Ears was that guy. All those statements were true. Even if they weren’t, I probably would have done it anyway.

As time went on, Big Ears discovered steroids and had them delivered to my married quarters apartment as they weren’t able to get through the tough security restrictions to get through the camp gate. He was friends with Number 26 – The Neighbor’s Husband – that’s how I first met him.

Number 26 had a few parties at his crib and a lot of the time, his wife wasn’t there. Number 27 was however, as was one of my GF’s from around that time. A lot of drinking, a lot of singing on the Playstation game – Singstar, and very soon, Big Ears and I were making out.

It turned into a regular thing for us, especially when Hubby went away for four months, leaving me with no money. Big Ears used to leave camp and head on over to the married quarters to see his friend, Number 26, and later on that evening, once the sun had gone down, he sneaked up the flight of stairs and lightly tapped on my front door. It worked. And it was oh so good. He had his cock pierced and also head a beautiful tattoo that went across his stomach. He started to work out and got beautifully ripped, especially with the steroids. His body was a sheer delight to touch and it even gives me shivers as I write this to you.

The sex we had was out of this world good. It was just sex – hard, passionate, fucking. Messy, sweaty, wet, vigorous, hardcore sex. It was amazing.

After a while, I started to develop genuine feelings for this guy and although I think he had some feelings for me, they weren’t quite as big as mine were for him. He had a car accident one night when he had been out drinking with Number 26. He had told me that he got jealous of something that happened between Number 26 and I, and therefore went off in frustration, driving his car, pissed, into another vehicle containing a family. I don’t remember what it was that happened to make him so jealous, but I don’t think it was as much of a big deal as he made it out to be.

Instead of staying with the car and checking to see if the family was okay, he ran away. He ran away right to my house. Things got a little mental from here. We knew he was going to be in an awful lot of trouble if he got caught, especially as he had run away from the scene of the accident as well. Number 26 and I put together a plan where I would go onto camp and grab his passport from his room, and we would run away together. Let me just set the scene of the situation, ladies and gentlemen, before you judge this ridiculous idea. Firstly, we were not only drunk but Big Ears and I were also high on coke. I was in an abusive relationship with a guy that cheated, beat and lied to me, and everyone knew about it. Thirdly, Big Ears was hot. That’s why it was a good idea. But mostly because of the coke.

Unfortunately, the Army Cops had already got their hands on his passport so he ended up giving himself up, so to speak. I remember being devastated that he was going down but just before he left my place, Number 26 gave us a few moments alone. I fucked him right on the edge of my bed just before he left, despite the fact that he had broken ribs. That was our last fuck. And it was good. Scrap that. It was amazing.

I saw him a few times after that and in fact, we even fucked a few times after that. Normally when Hubby was on the night shift. I did love him a little bit I think. He gave me what the Hubby couldn’t. It would never have worked – he was such a cock in reality. He is now married if Facebook is anything to go by.

He was the guy that I rimmed – I think it was because we weren’t that close and I could pretty much get away with anything I wanted to because of the way our relationship was. We hooked up when one or the other of us was drunk and horny. I don’t think we ever had sex sober. We were always drunk or high, and sometimes a pretty epic combination of the two. I don’t regret a single moment of that passionate affair. Even if I had been happily married, I would still have wanted to have that affair. That’s something every woman should experience at some point in her lifetime – unadulterated lust on such a scale even broken ribs couldn’t stop you.

Hot Sex

So there you have it. Something for you to mull over. Back to the moral of the story and I guess I should get back to the question in hand – what’s your view on tonguing someone’s butthole?


Big Bang.

There’s something wrong. I can’t work out what it is. I thought about cutting myself recently. This morning, I got so frustrated when my hair wouldn’t go right that I scratched the tops of both arms so hard, I drew blood. I didn’t mean to scratch so hard but it just kinda happened. Then, when I got home from work and took my work shirt off, I realized that they had actually scabbed over and there had been blood on my shirt. Fuck.

This is how it starts every time. I know my own pattern. I start to get frustrated with little things and sometimes I pull little clumps of hair out of my head. Sometimes I tug my eyelashes out. Then it gets to a point where this isn’t enough and I think about cutting myself. I know the pattern. I recognize the pattern. I just can’t work out what’s causing the pattern.

I’m not sadder than usual.

I am smoking an awful lot of pot, especially now the Bestie I’ve Never Had a Dalliance With has started smoking with me socially – usually heading to local riverfronts or cinemas for a fun night that doesn’t cost a lot. I have started to become concerned with the amount of pot I’m smoking. It’s nice though – I like how chilled out it makes me. I know I need to start slowing down though.

Things are not going well between OB and I. I have cancelled the past two weekends he was meant to have come down and I’m already wondering how to get out of this weekend coming. We need to break up. In fact, we did break up about a week ago. The situation went a little something like this:

We had a fight after he kept calling me while I was with the Bestie one night, and because I didn’t respond, he text my Lil Sis. I was livid. Anyway, a couple of nights later, he kept bugging me when I was trying to write and I put his calls on auto-reject. I have a living to earn and he was interfering. I have been doing a lot of my part time job, almost to the point that I am working full time hours, and I still have my freelance writing to do and my new business to keep running. He knew I was busy yet bugged me anyway – I felt he deserved it.

Well, it turns out that I forgot to take his calls off auto-reject when I finished writing and got into bed, and it was still on auto-reject for his calls when I was awoken in the morning by some pretty angry text messages. OB was pissed. He asked why his calls had gone onto auto-reject, why I was ignoring him, what he had done wrong… I felt so guilty but instead of telling him the truth, I lied. I told him that I had put ALL my calls on auto-reject because I was trying to get an early night and I made him feel really bad about the angry messages he had sent me. I told him that I couldn’t do this anymore. I felt it was best that we parted ways. He agreed with me.

I lay there in my bed with my head buried in the pillow and cried for a full 20 minutes. It was refreshing. It’s been a really long time since I cried. To be honest, I hardly have anything really to cry about. That’s the thing about my life right now – it’s fine. I have absolutely no reason to smoke the amount of pot that I smoke or to even consider thinking about cutting myself. What the fuck is going wrong?

OB and I made up, of course – we all saw that one coming but the one thing that did surprise me was the upset that I felt once it had been said. I do genuinely care about this guy – I do love him. I really do. We do need to break up. He has completely lost my attention. I’m cancelling on him and avoiding his calls. I’m being such a bitch to him and he really doesn’t deserve it. I think he might have bought me the shoes that I have been lusting after since I came home. The Big Bang Theory shoes:


He is the perfect boyfriend and I adore him. I just don’t want to play with him anymore. He’s just becoming clingy and annoying. It’s really irritating the shit out of me. On an enormous level. He really doesn’t deserve this but I can’t break up with him. And I know, for sure, that he won’t break up with me. What the hell am I going to do? To make things worse, he went and got bloody Facebook AND added me as a friend. I’ve ignored that for now but you know he’s going to want to talk about it.

In other news, Big Love has finally bought the house he has been lusting after for years. He owns property now; him and his new girlfriend. The one that he doesn’t reply to on Facebook. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I spent two years with this guy, paying off his debts and giving money to his ex-wife and Baby Momma. I gave this guy beautiful furniture in a beautiful home – a home that he wouldn’t have been able to have without me. He got his nice stereo system and TV, an amazing bedroom and artwork that I can’t believe I was stupid enough to leave behind. He had none of this before me and he even admitted to me that he wouldn’t ever have had that much of a stylish home if it hadn’t been for me. He has all those things with her now. In their new home. I’m very saddened by the fact that he isn’t even living in our beautiful little home anymore. It will always hold the happiest of memories for me. I hope it does for him too.

He’s going to marry this girl. He’s going to marry her and have babies with her. He desperately wants what Mr. C has. He’s gonna get it too. I hate that he’s bought the house with her. That was meant to have been me. That’s what all my money went towards. I have never felt so abused and used before in my life. We spent two years together. We did three different continents together. We survived a war zone together. I left my husband for him. I left my family for him. I left my continent for him. How could he throw me away like I was trash? Back to the here and now and I still haven’t figured out what’s wrong. I had kinda thought writing all this out would help me to put things into perspective, but all its done is made things even more complicated for me.

Oh and I’m back to wanting to fuck my boss again. Go figure.

Another Pregnant Bitch.

Remember in Dear Big Love, I spoke about the wedding of Miss. N (Now Mrs.) and Mr. C? Well, my Bestie on the other side of the world sent me a message at vodka-o’clock this morning:

“Did you see that Miss. N (Now Mrs.) is preggers?! Just saw on FB!”

Of course, I scooted right on over to Facebook, unblocked her and him, and had a good old stalk around their pages. Hers is completely private (bitch) but on his I saw something that I honestly never thought I’d see:

“Making it official. I’m gonna be a daddy. 13 weeks and counting.”

Holy fuck. Mr. C is having a kid? Shut up. I mean I know they got married and stuff in November last year but already, she’s pregnant? Holy shit. That’s not the Mr. C I knew and hated at times. If even the likes of Mr. C are having babies, why the fuck aren’t I having them yet?

Of course, my mind immediately sprung to the Big Love. He must be in bits right now. A little stalk on his FB and not a mention on there. He still hasn’t responded to his girlfriend’s FB “I love you” post either. Weird.

This must be killing him. He has always been jealous of Mr. C and idolized him like nothing I had ever seen before. His relationship with Mr. C was a very odd one. I remember one particular moment where Mr. C pulled me to one side to tell me to be careful about Big Love. WTF? Who does that? That’s his best friend right there! He told me that Big Love had stolen from him before in the past and a lot of people disliked him which meant that they might dislike me too. Apparently people thought Big Love was a douschebag.

Miss N. (Now Mrs.) and Mr. C were always slagging Big Love off yet still he went running back, like a kicked out puppy. His relationship to Mr. C was very different from what he thought it was. He classed them as the best of friends that told each other everything and didn’t do anything without each other. In actual fact, although they were good friends, they weren’t as close as he made them out to be. Mr. C was a bit of a back-stabbing bitch to be fair. Worse than any girl I’d ever come across.

Big Love never saw this, despite many of us telling him exactly that. He always wanted what Mr. C had – the big house, the good toys, the booming bank account, the puppy, the doting girlfriend, the occasional night out with the boys doing a bit of coke. Big Love had a life plan that he would be married with a kid at least on the way by the time he was 30, and he is nowhere close to that. He doesn’t have that sort of relationship with his current girlfriend – everyone can see that. Yet here Mr. C is with everything that the Big Love wants. I can see this going downhill and very, very fast.

I know I still talk about him a lot but I’m definitely not thinking about him as much as I used to. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I were back there and I realize that it would probably be exactly the same was what it was when I left. We would still be doing the circle of life – making up and breaking up. We wouldn’t have gotten things together enough to be in the same position as Mr. C and Miss. N (Now Mrs.) – married and with a baby on the way. I am genuinely happy for her – she now has everything she always wanted. She wanted him enough to almost stalk him into getting back together with him (he admitted this too) and it worked, and now she has badgered him into getting married and having the baby. Badgered is probably too strong a word – deep down I think he wanted those things but just not with her, more with his ex who was, quite frankly, a crazy bitch. I wonder if they planned the pregnancy….