King Of My Castle?

I had a beautiful day date with Someone New yesterday. This post might get a little slushy. I don’t know. Just a warning. I’ve been beaming ear to ear ever since so it could go either way.

I didn’t want to stay at his. Shark Week has come, plus I’m waiting for a wax… Shaving now would mean cancelling the appointment, and that means waiting another few weeks. It’s hard work being a girl, I swear.

Anyway, we decided on a day date, and had already swapped Tuesday for Thursday. We met in a little historic town not far from where I lived, and we spent the day just walking, and talking, and holding hands. I fell in love with him yesterday. Well, perhaps not fell in love. But I started bumping my way down, put it that way.

He made me go the very top of an old, abandoned castle – a local tourist attraction. We also wandered to the nearby cathedral, holding hands, laughing and kissing as we went around. It sounds cheesy and like something out of a movie, and it was. Like, it really, really was. We had coffee’s sat outside cute little cafe’s, people watching. We judged everyone and anyone that walked past, occasionally taking the piss out of each other, and it was adorable. Like actually adorable.

Sickly sweet stuff aside, we actually talked. Sat outside the various cafe’s we stopped at, drinking our coffee’s and eating our cake’s, we really talked. About stuff that was really important, not just fluff and frivolity.

I told him his “not-wanting” of kids worried me. I think I definitely do want kids, and I think that is something that has been growing more evident throughout the last three years of this blog. It is more than likely going to become a stronger need as time goes on. He told me he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted them. It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. If the right girl came along, he’s sure it’ll all click into place. But what if it doesn’t?

What if we are still here, three or four years down the line, still wondering and waiting? What happens then? When time is starting to run out for me, and my chances of conceiving naturally goes down with every period that passes?

I probably DO want to have kids. I probably DO want to get married again. I thought I could have kids and get married to Jock, so I’m sure that feeling will come again and hopefully, if and when it does, it won’t be with a complete and utter twat. I know we’ve only been dating six months but I’m starting to wonder if maybe Someone New could be something long term. He made it this far, didn’t he? There’s a reason I don’t want to let him go. And I’m glad I didn’t / haven’t. He is starting to become a very important little part of my life. I’m starting to miss him more, and not want to blow him out. I want to see him, even if we can only manage a few hours here and there, and he should have the opportunity to see me more often than once every two or three weeks. That’s hardly fair on him, is it? He deserves better than that.

I want to make him happy. I want him to want me more, not just in the bedroom, but out of it too. I want to be a good girlfriend for him because he is such a good boyfriend to me. I couldn’t ask for anything better. If I have a concern, I can talk to him about it. I even told him about the little jealous patch I had with that girl that liked all his Facebook statuses. Turns out, she’s a long term friend, she has a long-term partner, and he’s been good friends with them BOTH for over ten years. Well, don’t I feel like a twat? A twat yes, but I felt better for talking to him about it. You see – he’s so super approachable. There’s nothing I can’t talk to him about. I’m starting to have a great fondness for the weird, bumpy, often-misunderstood honesty we have with each other. It’s not perfect, but it’s getting there. We are evolving as a couple. It’s actually pretty cool to realise that.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like we are the shittest couple ever and we are changing everything about ourselves to fit together. It’s not like that at all. We are just learning little things about each other, and it’s often the little tweaks that make the difference. I don’t like it when he posts a load of crap on my Facebook wall, for example. I can’t tell if he’s being clingy or marking his territory via social media, but it really pisses me off. I told him that, he stopped doing it, job done.

It’s like that about everything too – not just the Facebook thing. I didn’t like it when he bugged me in the evenings when I was working. He told me last night that he knew I wasn’t always working and he knew I was watching some shitty reality TV show, or playing Call of Duty with Bestie. But he leaves me to it anyway because he knows I need my personal space, and he knows we don’t need to communicate every minute of every day. I told him I didn’t like it when he bugged me, he stopped doing it, job done.

I like to think it works both ways too. For example, I never seem to message him in the morning. In fact, I rarely manage to send him a message before 1/2pm. I didn’t realise that – I’m just not that social first thing in the morning, mostly because I hate the entire world. But it bugged him, and he told me about it and I realised how that must look to him. I realised how selfish I was being. So although I don’t manage it every morning, I do try to send him “Good morning” messages when I remember. I also know I need to get better at that. I know how much that morning message means. Not getting it from ex-boyfriends has ruined my mood for the entire day in past relationships, so I should practice what I preach and work a little harder.

It’s like we’re in a real adult relationship. It’s bonkers. There’s no game playing. There’s no lies. There’s no skeletons in the closet and if there is, they are coming out slowly and gingerly. It’s actually quite nice. I would like to think we’ve both got the major bombshells out the way, and we’re still standing pretty strong. There’s something to be said for that.

Even after telling him I was scared he wasn’t man enough for me, he was still sat there at that table, holding my hand, smiling at me. I know the way words come out of my mouth isn’t always the best way to put things because that’s not really how I meant it, but he gets me every time. He knows what I’m saying. He knows I never mean it as harshly as it sounds. He knows I just meant I wanted him to be more ‘real him’ with me, rather than the well-behaved version he keeps portraying. I want the guy that he keeps telling me about – the guy that falls over, says the wrong thing, and has no social filter. He knows that and he said that. He also has a rebuttal for everything. He’s still getting to know me so he doesn’t want to go all out with the usual pranking, piss-taking behaviour he would normally display. Part of him is still on his best behaviour. In fact, that can be said for both of us, can’t it? He’s only seen a fraction of the personalities I have to offer.

But yesterday, at the top of that castle, when I should have been shitting my pants, fearful for my life (it was really high, the wind was blowing, I was scared I was going to drop my phone…), I wasn’t scared. I was breathless and shaky, but it wasn’t the heights. It was him. I wasn’t scared because I knew he was there, and it was at that point I realised something. He makes me feel safe. The world isn’t such a scary place when he’s in it. I trust him. He’s in. That moment right there, at the top of the castle, I fell in love with him. A little bit anyway.

Ha – maybe I have finally found the King of my castle…? 

King Of My Castle?

Sort Yourself Out Ladies

Right, I’m naming and shaming. Well, not quite. But seriously though, what is up with girls airing their dirty linen in public? Or rather, on Facebook? Get a fucking grip.

When I woke up this morning, I checked my Instagram to see what’s going on in the world, and one of my female friends who I shall call The Sad-Act, had uploaded no fewer than 26 soppy, sad, depressing Instagram quote-posts. Honestly, it was almost vomit-inducing.

“Relationships are about trust. If you have to play detective, it’s time to move on.”

“Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on.”

“A man is only insecure about a female when he knows she deserves better.”

“Romeo and Juliet is just another examples of why communication within a relationship is so crucial.”

God, it’s depressing isn’t it? There were twenty-fucking-six of them. As if my morning hadn’t started out depressing enough already.

Why do girls do this? Guys NEVER do this, or at least, very rarely. I’ve never seen a guy go on for weeks and weeks on his Facebook / Twitter / Instagram accounts about how much he misses the girl, or how much his heart is breaking because she is no longer in his life. You never see that, do you? If you have seen that, please tell me, I’d really like to see it. And laugh, obviously. Wimp.

Sort Yourself Out Ladies

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know how heartbreaking a breakup can be. I’m still going through one of them myself, aren’t I? I know it’s heartbreaking and I know it feels as if the end of your life has come. But it hasn’t. As sad as I was, I knew I wouldn’t feel sad forever. I knew that although the pain would always be there, that the man I once loved would no longer be in my bed or in my life, it would subside, and one day I would ever find love again in someone new. That’s part of life isn’t it? Is there any real need to be soooooooo melodramatic about it in public?

The thing that really gets to me is the fact that she is PUBLICLY plastering her business all over social media. Surely she has more dignity than that? What happened to walking away from a breakup “winning” – head held high, no regrets, getting on just fine? On the outside at least. You would never know I was going through a breakup in the ‘real world’. There is no mention of it on Facebook. I don’t make my relationship status ‘single’, I just hide it so no one can see it, and then make it ‘single’ when I’m good and ready. I don’t change it so that anyone can see – I’m certainly not joining the pity party.

Sort Yourself Out Ladies

Why would you let a man have that much control over your happiness? Why would you let a man have that much control in front of 500 of your ‘closest’ friends? It makes no sense to me. I would just rather have a bit more dignity. I don’t need a man to complete me, and even if that’s not strictly true, I don’t need to admit as such to the entire world. Why would you let him know he still bugs you that much? If he did that bad shit to you, bad shit to warrant 26 Instagram posts hating on him, why would you even give him five seconds of your day? Clearly he’s not worth it if he fucked you up that much.

Sort Yourself Out Ladies

I don’t know. Those 26 posts just really annoyed me. Get a grip of yourself. NO man in the world is worth that. I wouldn’t even let David Beckham have 26 posts telling him how much he won this breakup war. Na uh. No way.

Sort yourself out ladies. That’s all I’m saying.

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A Small, Planted Seed

Yep, pretty sure I’m falling in love with him. Someone New. I’m pretty sure that has started to happen. I don’t really know how. A month ago, I kept blowing him out and not really feeling that bad about it, not bothered whether or not I saw him. I only left him two hours ago and I’m already pining. It’s quite sad really.

We had a beautiful night under the stars. That night we had planned on Sunday (when he was off work and I blew him out again), we had last night instead and I won’t lie, it was pretty fucking awesome.

It was nothing special. We bought a disposable BBQ, some steaks and sausages, spuds, freshly made bread, wine, etc. We laid a picnic blanket down in his tiny patio back yard, and BBQ’d our meat, drank our wine, and listened to music, just chilling, and laying, and watching the stars. Although nothing special, it was actually beautifully romantic.

We don’t do much normally because he’s working. He’s boss man so he actually works pretty hard, just one of the things I adore about him. It’s like he has an endless supply of energy, and he’s always running around. He walks to and from work every day, even though he has a beautiful bike in his garage, and that takes about 20-25 minutes I reckon. His days off are filled with fixing things or cleaning things, hanging out with friends, looking after dogs, entertaining toddlers….

It’s exhausting just listening to him sometimes, but he takes it all in his stride. He has had his own battles with anxiety and bowel issues, just as I am right now, and he is not only sympathetic, but full of wisdom too. The only thing he needs to do is learn how to slow down every once in a while – something he says I am helping him with.

Our time is spent lazing around, either in front of the TV, in his bed, in the backyard… We just laze our hours away, touching and cuddling and kissing. It was like that at the beginning, and it’s like that now – six months later. I know we don’t see each other as regularly as most other couples, but we both make an effort for each other still, and that’s such a wonderful trait in a relationship, I think.

At the same time, we do stuff too. We went bowling and we go for cocktails and glasses of wine, as well as dinners and breakfasts. We’ve been shopping together, and lazed historic towns together. We’ve watched movies and not made it to the end, and we’ve cooked together, dancing and singing around his always-immaculate kitchen.

You see, all of a sudden, things have started getting a whole load more poetic with this man. I didn’t see this happening…

It’s just the perfect mix. I wish I could see him more, and I’m starting to make a real effort to actually see him. That, in itself, shows me that I’m more into him than I give myself credit for. I just don’t really know when or how that started happening. Or whether or not I like it.

I’m meant to be seeing him Sunday night, meeting his best friends (and their toddler) for take-out and movie night at their house. Great, no mutual territory or anything, just throw me right into their house. I have already smashed one of their wedding glasses and fucked in their bed before I’ve even met them.

Smooth.

I guess we’ll see how much I like him. Will I turn up? I’ve blown them out every other time before. I didn’t feel ready to meet his friends before. I didn’t feel ready to incorporate myself into his life. But this morning, I walked with him to work, grabbed coffees for his work colleagues, and spent an hour with them, getting the guided tour. Thankfully, the work colleague he’d already fucked wasn’t there.

That woulda been #Awks.

It’s not lust, before you say it. We’re in lust for sure, but it’s not just that. We have had some serious obstacles when it comes to bedroom activity, so if it was just sex keeping us together, it would have fizzled out weeks ago. Months ago in fact. It’s only just now starting to get to a point where we can have something that resembles a ‘regular’ sex life, six months after my procedure. And I can tell you this – it’s just getting better. Last night’s sweaty, hot, hardcore, short and sweet fucking was the perfect scratch to the itch, so to speak. And this morning’s 5am re-run. It was ‘normal’ sex. No toys, no blindfold, no party tricks – just us. Me and him. Him and me. Naked. Sweaty. Slipping. It was amazing. The whole night was just like something out of a movie. Adorable evening, followed by a hot and sweaty night. The perfect summer date if you ask me. Plus there was wine. What more could you ask for?

So yeah, I guess something is finally happening. Maybe he’s just romanticised his way into my life? He’s a pretty romantic kinda guy. When you’re faced with adoration like he shows me, it would be impossible to not feel something.

A Small, Planted Seed

Even if it is just a small, planted seed. 

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I Should Really Give Him A Chance

He’s such a good guy, my Someone New. I have finally made the decision to give him more of a chance. I keep him at an arm’s length all the time, and if I continue to do so, I think I’m going to push him away too far. He’s trying so hard to win over my affections, and slowly but surely, it’s working.

Most guys would have given up on me by now. I blow him out more often than I don’t. He’s always buying me little gifts and cute little trinkets and I barely remember the dates he asks me to schedule me in, weeks in advance. When I blew him out last night for a work related drama, he took it so well. Much better than I had anticipated, especially after the amount of effort he had put into the occasion. I would have been raging mad. And I often have been in the past. God, I’m such a hypocrite.

He was planning a nighttime picnic under the stars in his backyard, completely with (citronella) candles (to keep the bugs away), soft music, aphrodisiac food, wine, etc. All I needed to do was bring a picnic blanket and some croutons. Oh and turn up. I couldn’t even manage that.

What is wrong with me? This guy is too perfect for words. I really should be giving him more of a chance. Rather than focusing on the ridiculously stupid things he does wrong; those little things that aren’t even worth mentioning because they are so insignificant, I should focus on the stuff he does right. Which is an awful lot, now I come to think of it.

There was the beautiful Pandora Daisy ring he bought me for my birthday… Whilst in the store a while back, I happened to mention the pretty rings (whilst looking for a gift for someone else), that they didn’t have there to show him. Despite this, he not only remembered the ring, but also which particular style I had said I liked. And, and, and, he got my size right too. I don’t know how but he did.

Then there was the beautiful pink Parker pen he bought me, complete with pink unicorn notepad. All because I told him the story of the one I had when I was younger, that my Lil Sis broke. Bitch.

He listens. He learns. I can tell him anything and I know he will take it on board like an adult, and deal with the information appropriately… For the most part. He remembers things and buys little gifts, not because he’s trying to buy me over, but because he’s thinking of me and wants me to know as much. I really should more shit like that for him. Although the other day, I did send him a ‘love letter’…. One that didn’t actually contain the word ‘love’. That meant a lot to him, I could tell. It seemed appropriate, you know, seeing as he bought me a beautiful ink pen and all.

It was the pen that did the trick, and the letter was meant to be a way of me telling him that I was starting to catch up with him. That maybe, just maybe, he might be someone I could fall in love with. I think somehow, considering I didn’t think I was that interested to begin with, I think I already am. The unspoken hanging L-word seems to be hanging around us constantly. I’m not sure from which side…?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’ve fallen in love with this guy. I just think that maybe I am on my way to. Falling, if you like – I’ve been slightly tipped over the edge and I have started to make my descent.

Let’s face it – he deserves this chance, doesn’t he? He’s been such an adoring boyfriend up until this point, and he’s had more than his fair share of shit to deal with. For someone I didn’t think would last that long, he seems to be lasting just fine.

BORED.

On 29 May 2015 at 01:13…

As I lie in bed, watching Ghost, smoking, I realised something. Someone New isn’t the next chapter in my life. He’s barely a passing glimpse. I’m over it. He bores me. There’s no real substance to him. And every time I think he grows himself a backbone, he lets me down by saying something so adorable, I could almost vomit.

He’s a control freak and a hopeless romantic. How does that work?

The sex was good last night, but it wasn’t good enough to keep me for a second night. It’s not enough to keep me running back for more, time and time again. The problem is there is no problem. How are you meant to break up with someone when there’s actually nothing wrong? Because he’s done nothing wrong. I just don’t think we clicked.

He’s just not Jock.

He was manly and forceful, fucking me every which way I could want to have been fucked. There was the quickie on the couch, skirt pushed up to my thighs, cute white lace panties urgently pushed to one side. Those cute white lace panties were slowly and gently pushed inside me later on that night. He slowly and playfully pulled them out of me, inch by torturous inch, bringing me to a dangerously hard orgasm with his powerful tongue at the same time. Add those vibrating nipple clamps I told you about before, and you have a gushing recipe for success. Oooops.

He’s good at what he does and I’m pretty sure that’s what keeps me running back for more. When I’m in his presence, I just want him to be naked, and if we’re not naked, I’m bored. I was bored. We went for cocktails and I was bored. Thankfully dinner distracted us. But then we got back to his and I was bored. I kept willing him to slide his hands down the front of those little cute white lace panties and do that clever thing he does with his fingers, but he didn’t. He did give me a quick taster of what I’d be getting later by licking me through my underwear on his knees in the kitchen though. I would have done anything he wanted right there and then. But he stopped. And we went to watch TV, bored once again.

At times, he surprises me with lust, passion and a little something new, and I’m sure he’s OK for just now. Then other times, I can’t believe he’s managed to get through life this long with such a small personality. He has the potential to be a much more… Impressive person? I don’t know? It’s like he has all this bang on the outside, riding bikes and wearing leathers, being all dangerous. On the inside though, it’s not all that exciting. Or maybe I’m still just not giving him enough of a chance?

BORED.
Jock was exciting.

Just saying.

Because It’s Shark Week?

Sooooooo, last night I decided to finally go and see my Someone New. I’d blown him out for about four weeks and he was starting to get really annoyed with me, so although I was about an hour later than agreed, I eventually got my ass over to see him.

We were going to go for a cocktail or two, and then head back to his to watch Fifty Shades of Grey and have mindless sex. That was the plan, anyway.

Instead, I got my period. 56 days after my last one, it was heavy, I was in agony, and after that LLETZ procedure that seems to have completely wrecked my insides, I was in no mood to fuck around. He was bugging me every five minutes as I was getting ready, “How long will you be?”, “Where are you?”, “Are you on your way?”, and I snapped.

“If you quit bugging me, I’d be ready and on my way a hell of a lot sooner. I’ll be leaving soon. I will message you when I’ve left. Now be quiet and let me finish what I need to do!” 

I didn’t meant to be quite so sharp with him but I’ll be honest, Someone New was really pissing me off at this point.

We met up, and planned to head for the bar we usually frequent, and he decided to spice things up. “I want a Long Island ice tea, so we’re going to a different place!” This different place was miles away, or so it seemed, and it was packed. I had already told him I had crippling back ache and didn’t want to walk all over town, nor would my crippling social anxiety allow me to go into a packed bar on a Saturday night, so I would only go there if it wouldn’t be really busy.

We got there, and of course it was busy. So we went back to his. I was annoyed. By this point, I was now in agony with lower pain ache, and period cramps, and I knew I’d need to take one of my painkillers that have a tendency to knock me the fuck out for the rest of the day. With the period, the walking, the lack of cocktails, and the painkillers, there was absolutely no point in the date.

He made dinner, half of which I couldn’t eat because of my ridiculous Poo Problems, and then I passed out on the couch. We spent 14 hours together. An hour and a half of that was spent moaning, or me subjecting him to the sulky silent treatment, 8 of those hours were spent sleeping in bed, two of those hours were spent with me sleeping on him on the couch. Eleven and a half hours of our 14 hour date WASTED. I started to wish I hadn’t gone.

You see, I’m starting to see him in a slightly different light now, and I don’t know if that’s because I’m an uber-bitch because of the period from hell, or if I’m really not that into him. Because I really don’t think I’m that into him.

I wasn’t overly bothered that I didn’t get to see him over the last few weeks. Yes, I was marginally pissed off, but it wasn’t end of the world stuff. And he’s really starting to annoy me. If I’m out of contact for a couple of hours (which I am, regularly), or if I don’t appear at the exact time we first agree, he’s on the phone to me, bugging me every five minutes. I can’t be with someone like that. I’m always late. ALWAYS. I’m late to everything – work, social events, writing work occasionally. I don’t know how or why I’m late so often, especially as I seem to get up stupidly early some days, but I am. There is a vortex right outside my front door, and I’m sure there’s hours of my time stuck in there!

Plus I’m really disorganised. I’m not grubby but I am messy. I live in continual chaos, and my desk is always covered by pieces of paper and little note-scraps. I leave the dishes for a couple of days sometimes, and I don’t do my laundry as often as I need to. He’s like OCD clean. Within ten minutes of finishing dinner, he’s off to the kitchen doing the dishes. I cannot live like that. I want to veg out after dinner.

Last night was the first night I was bored with him. I just felt like the date had been a complete waste of my time. I could have stayed at home, gotten high, and written a few thousand words, earning myself some much-needed money. Instead, I spent a fortune getting over to his, and then only actually spending a couple of hours with him, and I’d hardly call that quality time. Pointless.

I’m meant to be going back to his place Monday night / Tuesday day to spend it with him, his two friends, and their two-year old daughter. He wants to introduce me to his friends? Really? I can’t even decide whether or not I really want him in my life, and he’s dropping the L-bomb conveniently into conversation all the time, and introducing me to his closest friends. I’m so not ready for this bullshit.

What the fuck am I meant to do here? I’ve already blown these particular friends out once, possibly twice. I think only the once though. I can’t blow them out again. Someone New won’t be able to forgive me, and as much as I’m not sure if I want him in my life, I definitely don’t want to hurt his feelings. I’m not that much of a bitch. Am I?

I’m not over Jock enough to jump into a relationship like this. There’s me casually dating this guy (although not dating anyone else either), and he’s IN LOVE. Plus I’m pretty sure he’ll have a rock on my finger within a year. He’s that kind of guy, you know.

What happened to taking your time? I’ve had this conversation with him. I’ve told him that I want things to slow down. He agreed with me. He said he would slow it down. So why is he making me do this? Social anxiety aside, I’m not ready to meet his close friends. I’ve not yet been brave enough to head into his work place yet. Apparently the girl he used to screw said I was pretty. She’s young though. I’m not stupid enough to think she won’t react to me in some way. Not only am I his NEW squeeze, but she probably still has a bit of a thing for him as he’s older and she’s pretty young. Plus I look the way I do. I’m quite intimidating when I want to be. And I’m very snooty and up my own ass when you meet me. My quiet, shy, social anxiety persona doesn’t come across as shy and quiet. She comes across a real fucking bitch. But I know this. I accept it. So that’s fine, right?

So what do I do? Find myself some balls and go see his friends Tuesday anyway? Or do I try and find another excuse to get out of it? I can’t just tell him I’m not sure about him yet… Can I?

Maybe Because It's Shark Week?

Maybe it’s just because of shark week? 

I Had AMAZING Sex Last Night.

I need to talk about last night. Oh boy do I. It’s been a shit few weeks. In fact, it’s been a shit few months, so the fact that I have something exciting and naughty to talk about for a change has filled me with happiness. Lame, right?

I didn’t know whether or not I wanted to go and see Someone New last night, but I hadn’t seen him for over two weeks and he was starting to get a bit antsy. I was hours later than I had planned to be, but to be fair the day didn’t go quite as I had planned. That’s a lie. I fart-assed about for the entire day, not really giving a shit because I was pretty sure I was going to blow him out anyway.

In the end, I went and I’m really glad I did. The last few times we’ve hung out, I’ve told him to be gentle with me, but we’ve both gotten a bit carried away. Each time we’ve slept together, he’s made me bleed… For days after. I’m putting this down to the LLETZ I had a while back, but it’s really pissing me off. This time, he promised he’d go gentle so I wouldn’t bleed again. Gentle isn’t quite what I would call it… But I didn’t bleed anyway! 😉

We had a lazy evening on the couch, watching Finding Nemo because we clearly haven’t grown up yet. We ordered fish and chips. We snuggled in his super-soft blanket, and I gave him the obligatory blowjob on the couch. You see, when you don’t see your boyfriend for weeks at a time, you get used to him blowing his load waaaaaay too soon. When he does this, there’s spunk inside you so he then won’t go down on you. Sorry to be crude. You miss out, he gets what he wants… Hardly fair, right?

I’m smart – I give him head first. It takes five minutes maximum because it’s been so long and I come across the perfect girlfriend (although I love giving head anyway). Plus we both get what we want – I get my fair share of oral sex later on because I’m not looking like something out of a creampie porno, he gets a blowjob, and we have great sex before drifting off to sleep. Not always like that, obviously; we’re not boring or predictable yet. But you get the general idea – that first blowjob works for you both!

Back to my night, and it wasn’t long before we were climbing into bed. He reached into his bedside cabinet drawer and pulled something out – a black, silky blindfold. Clearly my boyfriend had been shopping. Carefully blindfolded, I positioned myself ready for the cunnilingus I was desperately hoping for but it didn’t come… Instead, I heard what I thought were clicking noises and I’ll be honest, for a moment, I shit myself. I was petrified. I couldn’t see what was coming. I didn’t know where he was. I didn’t know what he had in his hands, or what was going to happen next. I felt his hands roaming over my breasts and my skin exploded with goosebumps. Apparently fear is quite the turn on. It’s been such a long time since someone tried to push my boundaries, I almost forgot quite how exciting it was.

He held my nipples in his fingers, rubbing his thumb over the top of them, and then I felt something that wasn’t his fingers. Something vibrating, something that clamped down onto my nipples but in a way that didn’t hurt. It wasn’t until the next morning that I learned they were these things:

Vibrating Nipple Clamps available at Ann Summers.

Vibrating Nipple Clamps available at Ann Summers.

Can I first just say that I would definitely personally recommend them? Well, I would. They don’t hurt, surprisingly enough. In fact, they bring a little something new to the table – something almost painful, but definitely more than verging into pleasure. He had those nicely buzzing away on my nipples, while he worked his magic with his fingers and his tongue down below.

He told me he’d never me felt me cum that hard – back arched more than he’d seen before, and my insides clamping down so hard, he marvelled at my strength. It was mind-blowing. The whole night was. The blindfold combined with the vibrating nipple clamps gave me the craziest orgasm I’d ever had, and when he moved the clamps down and gently placed them on my lips… Fuck. Just fuck.

I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t stop my hands from tearing at the bed sheets. I couldn’t stay still, squirming around his bed wanting more, and wanting him to stop, all at the same time. I was putty in his hands and I would have done anything he wanted in that moment. When he slid into me and gently rocked me to my final orgasm before finishing himself off in my mouth and spooning me to sleep, I realised something – this guy really tries hard to make me happy.

We talk a lot, normally via our phones because we don’t see each other enough, and we’ve covered a lot of topics. Sex, obviously, is one of the biggest things we talk about, and I’ve already explained to him in great detail my annoyance about guys seriously avoiding my nipples, despite being perma-obsessed with my tits.

Why does this happen? Why do all guys shout, scream and make such a commotion about my chest, only to completely ignore it when I’m all good and naked? It really pisses me off, and from what I can work out, I’m far from the only girl that feels like this. Guys – seriously. Why are you avoiding them? They are there to be played with!

Anyway, Someone New listened to this and did something about it. Not only did he dedicate a full five minutes just playing with my nipples while kissing me – biting them, tweaking them, nibbling on them, licking them, blowing them, and more, but he also bought toys to ensure they weren’t left out when he was focusing on other areas! He knows I have a serious pleasure-pain fetish, and I think he’s excited to play around with it. He’s never done that with anyone before; I think he may have lead a somewhat vanilla sex life. Well…. That’s about to change. Clearly. Woo hoo!

But seriously though. He’s really trying. And he’s actually working out to be a really nice guy. Like a really nice guy. We’ve been dating for three and a half months and I can honestly say, there’s nothing that really bugs me about him. Plus I’m starting to develop feelings for him. I don’t know what they are, and I’m definitely nowhere near ready for the whole L-word thing yet. God no. He is though. It’s on the very tip of his tongue. It keeps popping up in random places like the random hearts he sends me via text (I’ve NEVER sent him a heart, I don’t do that), or when he replied to a random selfie I sent the other day with “Love that little face”. That’s basically the L-word, right?

In fact, he’s full of the awesome text messages. Just check this next one out:

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Sorry, I just wanted to share that cuteness with someone. It’s so cute, it almost makes you want to vomit, doesn’t it? But that’s what he’s like. He does stuff. He says stuff. It’s all the right stuff. He’s bought me vintage scarves because I said I liked them. He got me a Frozen easter egg because he knows I love that movie. He got me a tube of Smarties when he went to Switzerland with work; a special one in a special tube with a Mickey Mouse figurine on the lid. The blindfold, the cock ring, the nipple clamps, making me dinner, making sure I’m OK…. It’s all a thousand times away from what I had with, dare I say his name, Jock.

A million miles away.

So why am I just not that into him yet? At this point with Jock, I was well and truly smitten with him – hooked, obsessed, addicted. With Someone New, I’m not quite sure even though, by all accounts, he’s actually a pretty damn awesome guy, and very well matched to me. Why not? If he’s ticking all the right boxes, and we have the right chemistry, why isn’t it all sliding into place? Why am I still not quite sure? He rocked my world last night and yet somewhere along the lines, I seem to have missed a trick. He’s clearly well into me. Why am I not well into him?

Still, I had AMAZING sex last night.