Please Catch Up.

We had a chat today, Jock and I. I told him that I was sick of waiting. I was sick of waiting for him to catch up to where I was. How I was sorting my shit out and getting out of debt, trying to start to create us a life together. A life where we live together in a pretty little house, with a pretty little bulldog, and a pretty little baby boy. Or girl. Either really. I’d love a boy though. Although I would like to dress up a little girl all cute and stuff. I guess I don’t really care.

I just want a baby.

I don’t really believe how quick this has all happened to me. I went from no-baby to baby-me-up-right-this-fucking-second in less than 6 months. That’s all it took for Jock to steal my heart and whisk me off my feet. I guess when you know, you know. That bullshit is all true. With him, I know. His grey hair and fat belly – we shouldn’t work on the outside. But on the inside, although it’s been shitty recently, it does work. He does make me happy… most of the time. Well, perhaps not so much recently but he does. We can all see that… Can’t we?

I go back to one point left by Karen on my last blog post – she doesn’t see the good stuff so maybe all everybody reads is the bad. After looking back I realised that I don’t write enough about the good stuff. I briefly mentioned our sex last time but honestly, it was pretty mind-blowing. I was riding him, rocking back and forth. I remember him playing with my nipples. I remember it feeling sensational. I remember watching his eyes roll into the back of his head as he came, and feel the strength of his fists as they grasped around my thighs. When did I stop talking about our sex? I used to talk about our sex all the time. When did it become oh so ‘normal’?

I’ve got the Sex And The City movie on as background noise while I try and make my way through a pile of work that has found itself on my desk – the scene where Big just grabs Carrie and kisses her on the balcony. I want that. I want to be able to jump his bones whenever I want. I’m sick of only being able to see him once a week, if that, and if then only for a day or so at a time. We don’t see each other enough and when we don’t see each other, we start to fight. I want us to move in together. We are so far away from that.

My Mr. Grey has been back on the scene a lot recently. He keeps popping up. I’ve put some pretty cool ‘selfie’s’ on Facebook recently – you know the ones… The ones where you think you look really super cool and beautiful? Well, he’s privately messaged me to tell me how beautiful I am after each and every one of them. You remember what he said after the Fifty Shades Of Grey trailer, right?

Why does he do this? He has this funny way of popping up when I’m not having a great time in my relationship. He pops up and then he seduces me with the idea of great sex and a happy ever after I’m never gonna get. Not from him anyway. Apparently not from Jock either.

My head’s all over the place right now. I’m torn. How long is it gonna take for him to catch up with me? Everything is seemingly fabulous so what’s up with this? Why can’t we seem to get this right? I’m always waiting for him or he’s waiting for me. When did we stop being on the same wavelength? When did it all get so complicated? What happened to the days when I was just content to sit on the couch and rest my head on his tummy? What happened to the days when we used to spend all day in bed, touching, nibbling, kissing, sucking… Just for no reason whatsoever? When did that stop happening to us? Is it just something that happens after a while with every guy? The flirting goes? The touching stops? Everything becomes a little routine?

Have we become a little routine?

Here We Go Again: Meet Number 25.

Well, something has happened. Of course something has happened. My life was going fairly swimmingly and I was almost at the stage of being bored. Then *poof* as if by magic, shit goes down. If this was a movie right now, this would be where the “Dum dum duuuuuummmmm” happened.

Number 25 in my list – What’s Your Number? (or The Take Me To The Woods Guy) who I shall now abbreviate as TMTWG (Take Me To Woods Guy)as the above is a ball-ache to keep typing. I feel a copy and paste scenario coming on here! Guess what – another Soldier Boy.

I got a Facebook message whilst OB and I were at my Mama’s house.

“Hello u long time no speak how u been? Xx”

That’s not even a real sentence. Where are the commas and the periods? I saw his name – it’s not his real name. He missed two LL’s out of his surname on his Facebook profile page and I automatically knew the reason why.

Let me take you back to 2008/9. I was with The Hubby in the other European country, and I was sad, alone and miserable. I can’t tell you when it happened first, or what happened the first time we fucked. Or even the last for that matter. There is one time that stands out in my head but I knew there were a few more times to add to this list, despite the fact they never stood out in my mind.

The Hubby had been stabbed in the bar. Accidentally; by a fellow pisshead and a broken glass bottle as they fell to the floor. We were all there – me, him, TMTWG and a bunch of their work friends. Someone took him to the local hospital and TMTWG was ordered to drive me home in The Hubby’s car. I think we had already fucked by this point, or this may have even been our first time. I’m not entirely sure. Anyway, I needed to get changed before I made my way to the hospital. I was wearing a dress so I went home and changed into jeans. TMTWG came into my flat with me. The next minute, all I knew was that we were kissing. I was drunk and he was sober and there was a lot of passionate, urgent kissing. We fucked in that apartment – all over the floor. He told me today in the messages that followed – “fucking right was quality and u fucked the life outta me in ur flat” And another message that stated: “I tell u wat u rode really fuckin good lol” *Notice the diabolical state of these messages. They took me longer to decipher them than it did when we fucked!*

After he had fucked me in my flat, we went to find The Hubby but couldn’t. We ended up in the woods near to my house (hence the name) fucking, half-hanging out of The Hubby’s car. What a fucking slut I was.

That night was pretty good in my eyes – not the best, but most definitely not the worst. There were a few problems, of course; he was engaged to be married with a girl that already had one baby from a previous relationship and had HIS baby on the way, and I was married to The Hubby. We were bad, bad people.

We got caught, of course. We were stupid. His fiancée found our MSN chat messages saying that we should meet up again, on this day, etc. Blah blah blah. Lots of flirting, lots of very clear proof that he had been cheating on her, and she threatened to tell The Hubby if I didn’t leave him alone. I did leave him alone and rumors soon followed that he had been bonking one of the other wives, despite the fact that he was still regularly messaging me.

He and his girlfriend are still together, actually now married, more fool her. They are two adults, two babies and one perfect marriage towards from vomitville. However, I know better. I know better because he is messaging me and our messages are not particularly platonic ones. Well, mine are. His aren’t. I told him about OB very early on in the conversation, and even mentioned the fact that he was next to me in the car. This didn’t stop TMTWG though – he kept on going.

Me: Aren’t you still with your wife?

TMTWG: Yeah but I wouldn’t have minded seein u lol

There were more messages along this line – he has made his view on things very clear. He wants us to meet him and he wants to reenact those nights we had back when I was still with The Hubby. He even went as far as to ask me whether or not I had been faithful to my current guy. The fucking cheek of it!

He kept telling me how hot I was and asked for pictures of me. He had already stalked my Facebook page and the photos that are public on it, and he told me the ones that stood out for him. I should really have stopped the conversation dead in its tracks and told him I wasn’t interested, but for some reason I didn’t. I actually sent him a couple of the pictures from my Facebook that he specifically asked for, and one more recent one with my newest hair color. I’m not sure why I did this, but I’m sure we will come back to this later.

The things he said to me were clear lines that guys are meant to say when they are trying to get a girl into bed. I was always gorgeous, he always wanted me, he still wants me, etc. The worst of it all was that the things he was saying to me actually made me feel good. If he had been chatting me up in a bar, I would most definitely have given him my number. He’s a creep though – an actual creep. He’s a slime ball that cheats on his wife AND his kids, and doesn’t give a shit who finds out about it. It’s disgusting really, the lengths that a man will go to just to cheat on the person they are meant to love the most. She’s not even ugly or fat. She’s beautiful, skinny and fights defiantly for her man. Stupid prick he is. If he loses her, he will lose the best thing that ever happened to him.

He told me that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that we were talking, of course. Standard married man chat – I’ve been on the receiving end of enough of them to know what they are really saying. He wants us to dirty talk, send photos, meet up, fuck the night away and never tell anyone. Perhaps repeating the scenario every now and again when he or I get bored/are in roughly the same place/fancy a little something different.

He’s not even that good looking. I mean he’s not ugly or anything, but he’s no Brad Pitt, I can tell you that. He was punching well above his weight with his wife.

The thing is – what is making me think about him now? Why am I still messaging him back? Why haven’t I just told him straight that I’m most definitely not interested? Well, we all know the answer to that – he will stop messaging me if I tell him straight, and I’m actually enjoying the little thrill of something naughty/different/not OB. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Slamming back to reality with brute force, OB is currently sat on my bed, watching True Blood, waiting for me to stop blogging. I had to blog about TMTWG – I had to tell you guys. I had to write it down. OB doesn’t know he has been messaging me today, but he knows something is out of the ordinary. He knows something is on my mind. He is very in tune with my emotions and as much as I love it, I hate that it gives me very little privacy. In fact, not even privacy, just the place to hide things.

I haven’t heard from TMTWG since about 6pm – the time he would have left work and gone home to his wife. I know exactly what’s going on here – he wants something on the side; a little something to keep things spicy. The question is – what am I going to do about it?

 What is this?


Fucking Fuckity Fuck!

I keep avoiding this post simply because I don’t even know what to say right now. As mentioned in my last frantic post, My Mr. Grey is back.

“You never said you were in a relationship. Miss hearing from you :(”

I guess he found my new relationship status then. I tried to skirt around the topic, as he had done so many times before, by saying that I thought I had mentioned OB, and let’s just say the conversation got heated.

He said that he knew I was too good to be true and he wished I had spoken to him about it. I told him how annoyed I was that I laid my heart and my feelings down on the line for him to basically ignore every question I ever asked about him making a commitment to me. Long story short, he didn’t want to tell me how he really felt over the phone. He didn’t want to “ask me out” in a text message. Remember the wedding that he invited me to last year? Well, according to him, he had avoided our commitment chat over the phone because he had a little something special planned. He had booked an expensive hotel, bought himself a new suit, prepared champagne and roses and was going to do the whole big romantic gesture thing. I didn’t go to the wedding….

Romance. How could I have not thought about this? I know what kind of guy My Mr. Grey is – he is a romantic guy. He treats me like a princess – there is nothing he wouldn’t do for me. How could I have ignored the big “R” word? Are we women treated so shoddily these days that the mere thought of romance doesn’t even bounce into our perfectly groomed heads?

I apologize in advance if this post seems to flump all over the place but I have no idea what to think or what to write. He told me that he was going to come down and see me in March and I told him that I didn’t think it was a good idea. I told him all about OB too. If he comes down to see me, he’s going to look at me once and I know I’m going to melt into a soft mess on the floor in front of him. I’ve always loved him, what the fuck am I doing?


I told him that I didn’t want him to come down and see me, and he told me that for that weekend alone, he promised he wouldn’t lay a hand on me. We both know what will happen if he comes down – I’m going to cheat on OB; something I really don’t want to do. I love OB and he’s a good guy. He doesn’t deserve me leaving him for a guy that couldn’t make his mind up just a few months ago, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to be cheated on.

My Mr. Grey told me that he knows I’m “The One”. He said that he compares every girl to me, and that’s why no relationship works for him. He told me that he hadn’t slept with anyone since me, and you know what, I believe this. He told me that he wants to have a family with me and even if we didn’t work out, he would stand by me and our make-believe child until the end of the world. I know he means this too. He would make an absolutely fabulous Daddy. And to be honest, the whole kid thing has been playing on my mind for a while now. It’s something that I will talk about another time; I already have far too much going on in my head.

He wants me and he said he’s going to wait for me. He’s going to fight for me. And you know what makes all this worse, I know he’s going to grind me down. I’ve never been able to say no to him and I don’t think I ever have. What the hell am I going to do? I love OB but I’ve loved My Mr. Grey for a lot longer. 6 months hardly compares to 8 years, does it? On the other side of the coin, however, OB knew he wanted me and came and got me. My Mr. Grey didn’t do this – he planned the big romantic gesture that I never made it to. Surely he must have known that the big romantic gesture would be lost on me? I’m not an expensive hotel and red rose’s kinda gal. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m a MASSIVE fan of champagne, but I would have been just as happy, if not more so, by him telling me how he felt instead of trying to get me to travel to the other side of the country, to go to a wedding of someone I have never even met, just to tell me he loves me. I already knew that dumbass – What were you playing at?

What do I do? Potentially screw everything up with OB to run away and make a life with My Mr. Grey? He’s made it perfectly clear that he’ll always love me, he will fight for me and that’s where he wants us to end up. I made mistakes before – I chose The Hubby over My Gr. Grey, and The Big Love after that too. Would I be making the same mistake if I pick OB over him this time around? My Mr. Grey has such bad timing – when I got engaged to The Hubby, he turned up to confess his undying love for me. The same happened when I left The Hubby and got together with The Big Love. Here we are again – I finally find someone that I love and can have good times with and he decides to muscle his way back and demand what he thinks is rightfully his.

I sent him a link to my blog last night – I Asked the Questions and Got No Answers! He was coming across as though I didn’t give a shit about him and I wanted him to know how I REALLY felt. And still feel! It got my point across and he promised that he wouldn’t read anymore. I believe him – he’s not that kind of guy. He wouldn’t like some of the stuff I had written anyway. I haven’t been able to get him out of my head all day and I feel so bad for OB – he doesn’t deserve this bullshit. He’s a nice guy. So far……

So now I am at a dilemma. Do I let My Mr. Grey go once again and pursue my relationship with OB? Or do I let go of OB to run to the other side of the country for the guy that I have desired for 8 years? Help me guys – I’m lost.

Oh and before I go, just to add insult to injury, The Lapdog decided to text me in the early hours of this morning to tell me that he had heard the song Hot Right now – DJ Fresh & Rita Ora and it reminded him of me. His brother got married last year and we left the reception, along with his sister in her bridesmaid’s dress, to go to a nearby club. We were both on MDMA that we had taken on the way. We were mashed out of our minds and this song came on, so we danced, bounced and jumped our way through the entire song. We then went back to his that night and had the crazy, uninhibited sex that comes with that particular drug to that song. It soon became “our song!” I will talk about our MDMA nights another time.

In my crying, sleepy haze mid-conversation with My Mr. Grey I made the mistake of messaging him back. It was polite and courteous; nothing too dramatic. He proposed us catching up over beers soon, to which I replied “Maybe.” That’s all I need right now – My Mr. Grey muscling in and fucking everything up and now The Lapdog has decided to have a shot at it too.

Lots of love,

Very Confused & Torn 😦


The Truth about Long Distance Relationships

I haven’t been around for ages, and I will tell you why. It is because there has been NOTHING going on in my life. At all. Whatsoever. I still haven’t had THAT conversation with My Mr. Grey, (Number 23) but in my head, we are in a relationship, so I’m not doing anything or anyone else. This is a good start for me. It’s been about a month since he came down to see me and I haven’t had sex since then. A month?! It feels like it has been about a year. That’s the truth about LDR’s, or Long Distance Relationships – they are shit.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t jeopardize what I THINK My Mr. Grey and I have, so I therefore wouldn’t want to start sniffing around anywhere else. On the other hand, however, I am quite literally crawling the walls. Just yesterday I jerked off about 4 times. I had the day off work, and pretty much all I did was smoke a joint and masturbate for the entire day. It felt good, don’t get me wrong, but this behavior leads me to believe that I have a bit of a problem.

The other problem with the LDR is that you have a lot of time to think. I have smoked far too much pot, and I have also eaten far too many munchies. In my high states, I have reminisced and this is by far, the most dangerous past time you could come up with.

I restored my phone the other day. I hadn’t done it before this point because I still had texts from the ex on there, (The Big Love – Number 29) and I simply COULD NOT get rid of those. However, a lot of the apps on my phone were still on his account, so I couldn’t update them. The time had come for me – it was time to restore the phone and quite literally remove the last traces of him from my day to day life. We are no longer friends on Facebook, we blocked each other on Skype, we deleted each other from MSN… It would seem that those text messages were the last thing I had of us together, and for some reason, there was no way that I could delete them. The time had finally come. It brought with it some tears, of course. I had a wee look through them and it made my heart actually melt. Once upon a time, we were blissfully happy. Well, probably not but reading the texts back it sure looked like it. We made each other laugh, we put “x”’ at the end of our conversations, and overall, we were together. I hate that I still think about him, and that I compare other guys to him. If the old saying is true, and it really does take half the time you were with someone to get over them, I have about another 5 months to go, and if truth be told, I cannot fucking wait.

I still love this guy and this annoys me. I am willing to embark on my new adventure with my Mr. Grey, to the point where I would quite happily pack up my things and relocate to the other side of the country in a heartbeat, yet I still can’t get the old asshole out of my head. He really did break my bloody heart.

The only problem with feeling like this is that I actually want to tell him. I want to email him or Facebook him and make sure he knows exactly how much damage he did to me. No guy compares to him. The girls and I discuss men at work, mostly those that come into our store, and there is no one out there that takes my breath away in the same way that The Big Love did.  Yes, there was the guy so beautiful I couldn’t speak but that’s all he had going for him. Then there is the guy I couldn’t get rid of – Number 34; he had a huge cock, was great in the sack, but just didn’t kiss right. The ex kisses perfectly of course. Or at least kissed – he made have changed his technique for his new girl.

The problem with the LDR is that you think about all the things you don’t want to think about. You remember all those things you didn’t want to remember. You get so horny you spend the entire day masturbating, and you basically act like the hermit you said you would never become. Wow, is this really worth it?

The thing is I reckon it might be. When My Mr. Grey texts me, he makes me smile. He says the nicest things, and I know that he misses me just as much as I’m missing him. So for now, the working too many hours, freelance writing on the side, and day dreaming about things gone past and times to come will just have to do. It’ll all be worth it in the end surely?

When Was Your First Time…? (Part One)

There is nothing like a good bit of reminiscing when you are experiencing a dry spell with men, and this got me to thinking about firsts, (and talking, after a rather in-depth conversation at work) I have decided to compile a list of firsts…. Those moments in your life that change things forever. You know the ones – your first fuck, your first kiss, and your first sexually awakening moment. I decided to start this blog, not only because I have had sexual experiences that most women, (and men) would only ever dream of therefore I should shout about them, but also because I want to be brutally honest about everything that I have been through. And let’s face it; in the past, I have been through an awful lot. More than most others at my young age, I would imagine. I apologize if this gets a little boring, but it was in my head so I wanted to talk about it.

  • My first crush

My first crush, unless you are counting Tom Cruise, who I had a major crush on in high school, was a guy I later fucked once school was over and out. This guy was Number 6. He was hot, tanned, ripped, a little bit of a nut job, and while we were at school, completely out of my league. At school, he was a bit of a jerk, especially to me. It turned out that he wasn’t that great in bed, and the night was soon forgotten about. Still, I liked him, I wanted him and I got him. I really am a spoiled princess.

  • My first kiss

Ah yes, the awkward first kiss. Mine was with a guy I couldn’t stand. He bullied me at school, and I think back then, we had this weird flirtation that now would probably be known as the whole 50 Shades of Grey scenario – submissive and dominant; him being the latter. It was all tongue and saliva and neither of us were very good. It was in the center of the locker room outside the technology block at high school. We were in the middle; everyone else was around us in a circle, “egging” us on. It was awful.

  • My first love

1)      I have problems when it comes to choosing my first love. I thought I was in love with those guys in my younger years, but when you compare it to the way that you feel when you love later on in life, it is virtually nothing. I like to think it was Number 1 – the guy whose “banjo string” I broke. We dated for 10 months – this is a long time when you are just 13/14. It started off rather bizarrely – I was bullied very badly at school, and he was one of the popular kids. He tried to keep it a secret when we first started dating at the beginning of the 6 weeks school Summer holidays, and when we returned back to school, I told him we either went official or we went to nothing. To my shock and surprise, he decided to go official. He was popular and I was dating him, which in turn made me rather popular. It was weird to be on this side of the fence for once – I was beaten rather badly by both boys and girls at school, and then all of a sudden, I wasn’t. 

He was a bit of a dick to be honest – he once hit me in the form room at school, resulting in all the other boys pouncing on him. He cried a lot. He was also very controlling. He hated me smoking, hated me going to the cafeteria without him, and hated me hanging out with my friends when he thought I should have been hanging around with him… It was a little crazy to be fair. Every spare moment away from school was spent together, and although I know a lot of first relationships are like this, it was all a little intense. We broke up heading into exams – I did better than expected and he did worse. I guess that says a lot really. We copied a line from the hit film “Ghost” – “Ditto” was our secret way of saying “I Love You”

2)      I can’t work out if he was my first REAL love, or if this next guy was. He was Number 20. It was passionate, (for a 16 year old girl anyway) and it was awesome. Thinking back to him still makes me smile. At the time, he was amazing in the sack, but in all fairness, I didn’t know any better yet. I went back there a few years ago, and it wasn’t all that. There were rumors that he cheated so I slept with his best friend. I then cheated on Number 4 with this guy, and almost messed it all up. It wasn’t worth it.

I remember being very sad about this guy when we broke up – I was living with my Nan, and when he TEXT me, (oh yes, I got the text breakup) I cried into her lap for an hour or so, until I picked myself up, dusted myself down, and went out for a good old alcoholic bender with his best friend, (yet again) to get over it.

I don’t know which of these were my first loves. They certainly weren’t my GREAT loves. Almost like mini-loves; the ones you have when you are younger that sets the scene for how you are going to love others after them. They impacted me, of course – the first never took my underwear off when we slept together, and even now I have this weird thing about getting stark-bollock naked. I don’t like men seeing my frou-frou. If I get head, it has to be with the lights off. The second set the path for my crazy love of mental sex – he tied me, blindfolded me and teased me, and all of this was just our first time in bed together.

  • My first GREAT love

There is most definitely a difference between your FIRST love and your first GREAT love. My first GREAT love was my husband – a man that I would have done anything for, and put up with a lot from. He cheated on me repeatedly, he physically and mentally abused me, he left me with no money AT ALL for weeks at a time, and in short, he completely destroyed me. It took every ounce of my strength to walk away from him, and even then I couldn’t have done it without a little help from Number 29.

I loved my hubby with everything I had. He cheated at the beginning of our relationship and I forgave him. He cheated not long after we got married and we moved to a different country, and I forgave him. He repeatedly cheated – it was as if he had a problem. In reality, the problem was mine – I let him get away with it, therefore he was bound to do it again and again. We got married too young; it was the whirlwind romance. This was in 2006, and I still haven’t managed to divorce him.

Do I still love him? Yes, of course I do. I stayed with him through the worst things that you could ever have imagined. He split my face open with one punch that was so forceful, he left half of his knuckle in my lip and I had to have it removed, and then have stitches. This was the worst of it all, I think. That was the first time he had actually HIT me. He had dragged me around a parking lot by my hair before, cutting open the front of my feet where I was dragged. He spat on me, he used to put his hands around my throat to shut me up, to the point where I had great big welts across my neck. I have photos of this still, and every time I come across them by accident, it shocks me. Was I really willing to let a man make that much of a mark on me? Apparently yes. What else did he do? He used to hold my wrists to the point where they were bruised. Again, I still have these photos. He once locked me in a cupboard in my house. My upstairs and downstairs neighbors knew all about this, but of course I denied it. It was the hole in the face/hospital night that got things out in the open, and this is where my downstairs neighbor started phoning my Mama. This is when shit got real.

Things were bad between us – he trashed my flat before we got married. He left me without any money once we had moved, snapping the bank cards so I couldn’t get access to anything, and then left the country for 4 months with his work. During this 4 month period, I heard from him 3 times and he slept with 5 other women. This was while I was practically starving; having to borrow money from my family so I could afford “luxuries” like food, tampons and toilet roll. I resorted to borrowing money from my family and friends in order to survive, and also, for the short duration that my Internet bill WAS paid, I tried my hand at online freelance writing; something that has stuck with me and that I still do today. Was this enough to make me leave? No, of course it wasn’t. I was an abused woman; something I couldn’t say back then, but now I say with the strength of a woman that was lucky enough to get out and overcome it. Even now when men make fast movements around me, I flinch. If a man shouts at me, I have a panic attack. He destroyed me, or at least a little part of me. I would never let him destroy me completely. I would never let any man. 

Towards the end of our relationship, the only time we ever really got along was when we were both high on cocaine, something that repeated itself with Number 29. It was a disaster that I am glad I managed to escape from. He is in a long term relationship now with a girl that looks exactly like me. I wonder sometimes if he does to her what he did to me. We no longer talk, for obvious reasons, and even when we try to discuss the divorce, it ends up in a big fight. Ignorance is bliss for now. Until I can afford to get solicitors to get rid of him for me.

The thing about us was that when we were happy, we were deliriously happy and we had it all. He made me the happiest person ever. The problem was it was only ever good for a few months at a time, if even that long, and it soon went back to shit again, with some other woman happening, or another trip to the hospital for me. We lost a baby together. It wasn’t planned and I didn’t even realize I was pregnant. He was distraught about the situation. Me, on the other hand, well I just thought throughout it all that I had a lucky escape.

He was my first GREAT love.

I Did a Bad, Bad Thing.

Ok, so I was dumb. Last night I met the guy I couldn’t get rid of for a drink. I took the bestie that I have never had a dalliance with along with me. I went to an old bar that I used to work in, and I bumped into some people I knew. You would think that this would be protection enough, but no, my vagina apparently had other plans.

It was the bottles of bud that did it. I’m not sure how many I had, but I knew it was too many on an empty stomach. What started out as being friends meeting for a drink and a chat, turned out to be the guy I couldn’t get rid of coming back to my place, us having pretty damn amazing sex, and me thinking I may have just lead him along.

Last night, when he was back at mine, things went a bit nuts. He had asked me to do something on his phone for him, and as I did so, I happened to come across his text messages. From the names that the most recent contacts/text messages were given, it would seem as if he were back on the dating website where we actually met, and talking to other women. This meant to me that he was on his way to getting over me, and we could actually just be friends with benefits. Oh no. This was wrong. I am a crazy person.

So, first of all I got jealous of him texting these other girls. Oh yes – the “I don’t want him, but I don’t want anyone else to him” girl scenario that we (or at least I) seem to do so well, popped it’s head up again.

Secondly, I started a mini argument where I accused him of only meeting me for a drink for sex. This may have been my secret intention, but he doesn’t know this.

Thirdly, it ended up with him wanting sex, me having a completely unrealistic huff, and us fighting and having crazy rough sex that blew my freaking mind.

I think I squirted last night. Let me set the scene – I was on my back, my legs were wrapped around his waist, he was pounding into me with such force, I came, squirted, and ended up splashing my own face with the stuff…. How the fuck did it travel that far up my body? I blame the hard orgasm, and his intense thrusting for it. However, it created a catchphrase for the day – “I think I just came on my own face!”

I struggled at first of course – he had offended me, (for a reason that was unknown to him) so I said no to sex. He doesn’t like no, so he grabbed my wrists, pinned them back onto the bed, and dry humped against me. It turns out; this actually turns us both on. A lot. So, some heavy petting, a lot of bad kissing, (I actually think his technique has improved some)and serious dry humping later and I realized I should probably go have a shower and sort my incredibly hairy vagina out.

A shower later, and we resumed the order of the evening – I was soon pinned to the bed, and he was soon thrusting against me. This resulted in the tearing off of each other’s clothes, and a fuck that quite frankly, blew my mind. He was hard, then he was soft, and then he was even harder, and then I came, and then I was on my front and he was lifting my ass in the air, and then we were cuming together, his groans of release mingled with my cries of painful pleasure. It was an intense night.

He woke me up at 5am this morning again, which pissed me off, but I let him carry on. By the time I was awake and realized the time, and the fact that I had awoken to a cock inside me, he was almost finished so I just let him carry on. I may have had a cheeky orgasm at this point, but I was mad at him for waking me up at 5 in the morning AGAIN when I had early work, so I never let on that he made me cum.

It was after I had gotten to work that I realized my mistake – he was texting a lot more, he was pressuring me to see him tonight, and getting stroppy when I said no. I managed to put him off until later on tonight where he told me that he was drunk and on his way over. This, of course, resulted in a rather pissed off conversation where I told him that turning up at my house was unacceptable.

He seems to have got the message for now, but it worries me – I’m probably going to sleep with him again; it’s too good not to. He’s going to develop feelings, or at least further develop the ones that he already got, and I’m going to find myself in a situation I can’t get out of again.

Damn my stupid vagina. And then say men think with their genitals!