Desires, needs, roles

This subterranean world in which we wallow

Merry Xmas

Ahh 2011 you little rascal you! 

Well it's nearly over now and it's been a pretty eventful one from my point of view. This blog bears testament to that fact; from self indulgent heartbreak, vivid recollections of lovers past, detailed documentations of lovers new through to it's current state of dereliction – I've self contemplated and given myself over enough (here and in my day to day) to have arrived full circle back to being what I was: self sufficient and content. 

Thank you to anyone who has taken the time to read, to those who have commented and especially to those who've felt intrigued enough to engage me in conversation – particularly the mysterious girl who apparently knows me and has met me before, proving that it is a small if somewhat disconcerting world.

I hope you've all had a great Xmas, you've not put on too much weight, your families haven't indulged in petty squabbles and you're looking to 2012 with a smile on your face; and if you're not, at the risk of sounding a little self-helpy please don't stress too much. If I've learnt anything in my years it's that obstacles are just temporary, they're there to learn from and to be looked back on with a wry smile. An easy life is one not lived to it's fullest range so be thankful that you're living and learning. Time is a healer, but only if you use it well. 

Yours, Unremarkably xxx

An average night

Yep. Tassles cancelled.

When I texted her on Friday afternoon to make plans for the night, she replied saying she messaged me on Thursday (she didn't) saying she got tickets to Lovebox. Pissed me off but what can you do eh?

Actually I'll tell you what: go get drunk with some buddies.

I went to a few bars in Dalston and settled into the challenge and slating that is the dynamic of this particular group of friends (constant insult and debate, I like it). It was a bar that's been around for ages but that I'd not actually got round to going to till last night. It was a good looking crowd, music a little too pretentious at times (turning the PA up for a Lightening Bolt tune at 9:30pm in a bar is a little excessive in my book), with lots of friends coming and going - all of which contributed to a good drunken vibe.

As we sat there I spent about half an hour on and off talking to a girl on whatsapp (instant messenger) I went on a date with years ago who I've always kept in touch with. She's a petite actress/dancer, brunette, fair skinned, well spoken and pretty. We get on pretty well. She's a bag of insecurities and neuroses but I think that's mainly because (well aside from the fact we all are) she's a thinker and has been surrounded by bitchy dancers/actresses who are always pulling each other down and undermining each other - I've kind of acted as a confident and friend. And perv. She's very submissive and we've talked endlessly and graphically about all the things we'd do, it got to a point where I was kind of her master, telling her what to do, making her send or do things for me from the mundane to the explicit - I had the option to own this girl as my fuck toy. However I pulled back because I didn't want that responsibility, I wasn't in a place where I wanted the burden of that dynamic, I didn't want a relationship. I knew that to take it away would have been a very big thing to do to her. She needs a man to be a master to her, she really loves it, it gives her purpose.

She told me she's now seeing a guy who is ticking this box for her in quite a big way. She says they're falling in love, and that their sex is amazing - pretty S&M too. I just hope he's taking that power respectfully, as I say, I think it's a big responsibility. Playing that role doesn't mean you just get to do what you want and treat your woman harshly. It means you consider her at all times, and I mean emotionally more than physically too (bruises and slap marks fade).

I saw her for a few hours a couple of weeks ago. She was presenting some kind of show thing and I went to meet her before she had to work, we drank, talked, kissed a little in the dressing room, but we kept it above board. Whilst I don't know her enough to know that I'd take that responsibility on, I do know that we would have a lot of fun with that dynamic between us. When I'm with someone, I take on their emotional side too - their issues are there to be shared, I support their endeavours, in fact - all in all I'm pretty girly on that front maybe. Anyway on hungover days like today, what I would do for some slow, sensual languid sex this afternoon. Actually this makes me realise I've not had meaningful sex for....as long as I can remember. Hmmm. That sucks.

So back to last night - we left the bar and got a cab to a houseparty down the road. It was a girl who my mate worked with who buzzed us in. We walked up five flights of stairs (which even in this 'nice' warehousey place smelled ever so faintly of piss/desperation - anywhere where there are concrete stairwells it seems there are men giving into temptation) and she greeted us at the door with "I'm sorry guys but there's loads of gays here" - she wasn't lying; we walked into a room filled with lot of disco, mincing and excited wide eyed men gesticulating.

There were probably about 15-20 people in the room. A flat in an art deco building, a large high ceilinged room with an old cast iron window lining the length of the wall. There were a couple of sewing machines as well as a few dummy's lying around so going by the occupant I guess it was a fashion crowd, although the way people were dressed didn't make me think it was. We'd each bought a bottle of wine with us and we set about cracking them open and decanting them into plastic cups.

My annoyance at a thing that happened at work which consequently developed after work (iphone + emails = never not at work) coupled with my cancelled date had left me in a 'fuck the world' mood where I wanted to just go get wasted. I actually didn't go and drink as vehemently as I could have done, however I did decide I would smoke which was even more nihilistic really. I quit in January, and didn't touch a cigarette till the end of May when I went to a music festival; the way I saw it I was away, I was going to be taking just about everything else that was naughty so I may as well smoke.  Then I returned home and didn't smoke again. Till this night which I told myself was a one off...

After about 10 minutes of talking with a couple of girls we knew there I took myself off to the side to roll a cigarette. I was behind their dining table by the window, on the other side in the corner of the room was a small bookcase and a couple of lamps. There was a girl standing there who I acknowledged with a a cursory nod as I went back to concentrating on constructing my little cone of sin. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her do a Del Boy onto the lamps. She knocked the shade off of one and had fallen back into the corner, leaving everything but herself standing.

I could have just stood there, but instead I squeezed myself through the small gap past the chairs over to her and helped pick her up from the floor, fit the shade back on the lamp and try to make her not feel like too much of a dick. She'd simply misjudged where the hell anything was (the wall, the bookcase, maybe even the lamps) and lent into thin air which of course, didn't lean back. She thanked me for coming over to help pick her up and asked me my name. I lit her cigarette, then mine and we started to talk. Now I was stood here I could see she was pretty. She was a Ukrainian/Canadian brunette photographer who looked like Gemma Arterton, so not "fuck you're sex on legs" - more a "wow, you're really pretty" type thing. After about 15 minutes of talking she went to the toilet and I went back to my friends to drink, dance stupidly, do bumps and talk shit.

As the party thinned out it was pretty much gay dudes, us and a few girls left. It got to about 4:30am and I decided that the party had gone, there was no point in forcing it so I should go home. I said goodbye to the people I'd talked to, and then went over to Mary, shook her hand told her it was nice to meet her before I left to walk home.

What a dick.

Now I'm not saying that she liked me, I have no idea. But I do know that I let myself down here. I was at a party which was winding down, there were a few gay guys, a few straight and Mary who I for some reason, never approached to talk to again. WTF? Why didn't I go and talk to her again? She was really pretty, a photographer, we'd gotten on. Why didn't I stay longer and talk to her? Idiot.

Instead, I just walked home had an unsatisfactory inter-wank (obligatory) and passed out.

If I carry on like that, I deserve to not get anywhere.

You know what? In the time since I've not been writing this blog of late I've not really been dating. I've had sex sure, but of late that hasn't been that often either - I've kind of just stepped out of the game a little. Well that and the fact that the couple of girls I've been speaking to are either a tease/taken/hard to pin down/in Newcastle.

I think I need to get myself out there again.

In fact fuck it that's what I'm going to do now.

London...you have been warned; I intend to charm then fuck the living daylights out of you.

Tassles part 2

A few weeks back now, maybe even a month, I finally got round to having a second date with Tassles.

Tassles is a beautiful girl, a dirty mouthed, insightful and articulate girl. If it wasn't for the fact that she is maybe a little self absorbed and crazy - not her fault, she's crazy hot and also sharp with it - I'd be pursuing her more actively. She has the midas touch I imagine, a side effect of beauty I've speculated on before - and maybe if I felt I had nothing to lose (which is how I felt before K) I'd be chasing her down more.

I've realised I chase girls who are 'out of my league', find that I can actually get them, then either get bored, or in the case of K, open up and stop playing games. Which I've learned is a BIG no no......Now maybe some girls are shaking their head thinking "What? Of course games are stupid, all we want is a man who will say they love you, that you're the best whilst also being strong, solid yet open" well sure, yes you do.

But you also want to have a man who is slightly out of your reach still - 'Alpha' - you need to feel like you have never quite tamed him, that he's still independent and though he loves you, it's on his terms. His terms in that he is deciding at every point to give you his love, because he is not short of other girls to give it to. He's allowed you to have the key to his heart. Once you feel like you've got the key, that his love is there to be taken for granted - that's where there's the element of coveting something more. Of, hmmm - well I got that.....maybe I could do better. It's animal nature. Men and women manifest the same things in different ways. Now I'm not saying all girls or guys slavishly act on this instinct - but nice guys finish last.

But anyway back to the point...

We'd arranged a date or two which we'd had to cancel for whatever reason, and we'd been sending a few texts here and there - even if she's not the most communicative of people. One night I sent her a picture of me in a state of undress - not balls out naked (who would just jump in with two feet and do that?), just with my top off. Now I'd not typically send this out of the blue, but the way she was on our date, things we'd said and stuff she'd say on facebook made me think that she'd be....well, down with some 'naughty' business.

Turns out that she wasn't. She asked me why I'd send it to her and generally made me feel like a bit of a dick for sending it. Wups.

However she then a day or so later apologised saying that it was her time of the month, she wasn't feeling hot at all and that she was sick of guys sending her pictures like that (haha, who knew we were all at it??) and that I'd just caught her at the wrong time - because now she was now 'appreciating it' alone on her couch.

So we arranged to meet on a Sunday afternoon for a few drinks. Now ordinarily I'd never go in for this, and certainly wouldn't on a first date because: it's more than likely that I'll be hungover, and: you can't really drink and get up to no good. Which is pretty much diametrically opposed to my general game plan for fun. There, I said it ok?

So Sunday arrives and true to form I'm of course hungover. She very kindly offers to come over to Dalston to meet me speculating quite correctly that I'm hungover and won't want to travel too far, so we hit on 4pm and that's that. In my head I'm thinking two things, first "That's seriously nice of her" and as my brain narrows it's eyes and strokes it's chin, a second more interesting thought introduces itself "....I wonder if she wants us to be close to my flat so we can maybe end up there too?" - either way, it was a cool thing for her to suggest.

I walked up to meet her at the train station, dark blue slim jeans were hanging off me as I'd forgotten to put my belt on, a white black polka dotted polo shirt done up to the top (natch) and black vans - which aside from some trusty Loakes, are the only shoes I've worn pretty much exclusively for the past few years: Unremarkable truefact.

I took a short cut down through Ridley Road, which whilst quaint, interesting and great to have on your doorstep, upon reflection isn't the best way to go on a 'romantic amble'. Let's just say the smell of fresh dead farm animals and their fishy cousins won't be bottled and sold on the shelves of Perfumeries around the world any time soon.

We get to the pub and grab some seats by the bar, a Guinness for me and a white wine for her. The conversation is easy and flowing. Some people leave a table and we slip into their places, the acquisition a small victory in the slowly building crowd of Sunday drinkers.

I've pulled back from the whole dating thing for a while now simply because it was offering me little thrill. Little insight, little novelty or elucidation by the hand or word of another. The melodrama of that sentence aside, I look forward to speaking - especially in person of course - to Tassles because I actually get this with her. It's not just the thrill of basking in the attention of a beautiful woman, it's the fact she surprises me, brings things out of me. Maybe that's more an indictment of my situation than her, but it is what it is - we seem to get on.

Mild though it is, my hangover is lifting. Tassles goes to the bar to get more drinks so I sit back and take my surroundings in. Tipping back in my chair I notice a battered dog bowl full of water under our seats, I wonder what dog was here before us, whether it's lead was held by a local stopping for a Sunday pint on his way back to his wife and kids, or maybe it was quenching the thirst of some nouveau-local's French Bulldog. Around me I see groups of smiling faces, the summer sun is setting and giving everyone a golden beatific appearance as though we're all in some kind of wholemeal bread advert. There's a breadboard in front of me on the side of the bar by a dumb waiter, I note how deep cut lines run from 10pm to 4pm - countless right handed bar staff through the years sawing their way through tower blocks of bread. My eyes return to the bar and to Tassles. I can see her profile, she's looking around too. I watch her wondering what thoughts are being formed from what she sees. She has a halo of golden hair around her as the sun gleefully plays around her too. As she bends forward to hand over her money my eyes fall down to her ass, for a second I forget myself and instead of thinking how much I wan to fuck her I purely see a beautiful behind, a tight pear shape of beauty.

She collects her change, picks up the drinks and turns back to bring them over. Rather than act like I'm otherwise engaged looking out the window or on my phone, I smile warmly at her and hold her eye holding out a hand to take my drink with a quiet "Thanks Tassles"

A few more drinks, a few more laughs and challenging questions/opinions later (that shit to me is everything) and we decide to move on.

We have to walk past my flat on the way back to the station (a very fortuitous geographical factor to my living arrangements), so since it's about 6pm now I suggest we go have a drink at mine.

"Sure but I'm not coming up to suck your dick"

o_O

Hahaha, brilliant.

However.

It soon conspired that somehow, by some unknown force that is still beyond me....she was.

I remember us talking on FB for the first time so many months ago and thinking "Wow, you've replied." and then "Wow, we're kind of getting on" and then thinking, "I'm going to date you at some point"

And date we did.

I have a third date with her tomorrow, and although she's potentially flakey let's hope we do see each other. I shall at the least continue recollecting the rest of this Sunday date afterwards, and hopefully have more to tell you besides if tomorrow night happens.

Thanks for stopping by here, I shall try to write a little more interestingly soon xx

And so it goes...

Fits and starts

I said I'd update you - but I've just got back from being in Berlin this week, and then the South of France at a festival, so I'm catching up on work, abstinence and the rest.

Upon my return I will cover some, if not all of the following:

- My second date with Tassles
- A girl who wanted to be a cat
- Kelly

At this juncture, if there's anything you'd like me to write about or ask - drop me a mail, it may chuck up something interesting x

unremarkable.man@gmail.com

K

I've been missing K today for the first time in a while. I'm not sure why but it started yesterday, an innocuos thought which planted the seed. Not that big a deal, it's just she's been on my mind today and now I'm remembering the good stuff rather than the bad.

So I'll show you a picture of her from one of these times.

I forgot I took this. It's a picture that was taken on I think on mine and K's second date. I had a Sharpie by my bed and for some reason I wanted to write on her ass. She was more than happy to let me.

She went away to Paris the next day for a Hen do. She forgot it was there and I'd love to have seen her stammering face as someone pointed it out.

That's all x

Chapter Two.

So....to those of you who are reading this who have no idea why or who the author is, please indulge me in the upcoming monologue. To those who have any inkling or insight into me from my blog let me tell you a little of what's been going on. 

I got bored of writing this blog. Plain and simple. 

I put that down to a mixture of the following factors:

1) I simply don't have the ego and self fascination to talk about myself endlessly. In the same way I don't treat facebook or twitter as a means to talk about myself, that I don't hold court telling stories about me, I find the mere detailing of my life to be pretty dull to write about, let alone consume. I felt if I wasn't learning much or having any real insights through my day to day, anything I was to write would be equally uninspiring to anyone reading. Pretty much every post I wrote, especially at the beginning of things - was filled full of either my real true feelings experienced or my real true thoughts on these situations (I differentiate here because some were visceral descriptions of experience, whilst others were conceptual contemplations), so when those personal truths seemed to be less and less, I saw little point in carrying on for the hell of it. 

(Pretty sure I've lost most of you by now)

2) I think this blog has been like therapy in ways. A way to self contemplate, to objectively view situations and generally step outside of myself by stepping in. I've 'learnt', moved on and reconciled things a great deal since I started this. I think you have all been like the late night friend or therapist silently listening and allowing me, encouraging me to talk through your passivity. 

3) I started to find that writing about my sexual encounters was becoming repetitious, plus the sex I've been having of late whilst very fun has also been lacking impact. I think I may possibly be growing out of simply 'having sex' - the allure of the conquest has been diluted, and the different situations I've been lucky to get myself into also means that there's only so much titillation or surprise that new casual sex can offer. 

However, as much as I could tell you about how I now view things, and what I now feel I may want, I don't think you came here or are back here for that (although, I'm pretty sure you'll hear about this at some point soon). 

You want to know about my interactions with the fairer sex. So, let's reacquaint ourselves with my unremarkable times of late...

Remarkably surprising

Ok, well since it seems there are a few people who may be interested I guess I should write an update.

Thank you for bothering to say as much - I'll try to write something in the next few days.

xxx

Lionel Richie

Hello?

Should I write anything new here, does anyone come here still?

Pretty tied up

So, a posh couple got married, an old man was shot in the head, and an Unremarkable Man had a weekend full of booze, friends, fun, but a distinct lack of sex. It's only been a week, maybe two? But it feels like an age since I last had good sex.

Blondie: She got back from being on holiday today. Not that it's a forgone conclusion at all (because it's very much not), but it may happen again...in fact, since I'm sat here I thought I'd tell you about what I got up to a month or so ago when the god of fuck was smiling more favourably on me.

Blondie had had me over earlier in the year when I was still really hurting from K. After a bottle of red and a whole heap of ego boosting flirting we ended up fucking. But not just any old fucking, she really treated me to her A-game.

In her bedroom she took control, stripped me, bondage taped me to her bed and blindfolded me. She played with my cock as she kissed me, getting me hard (this took all of about 5 seconds) and then padded out of the room.

After what was probably five minutes, but which felt like more than ten, I could hear the muffled clip-clop of her heels on the wooden floor as she returned to her room. She opened the door and didn't say a word. I heard the click of the door close then nothing. I was so hard. Hard thinking about her looking at me, hard in anticipation of her mouth, of her hands, of the feeling of being inside her again. The double click of heel then toe of her shoes on the floor was like a drum roll of anticipation as she walked towards the bed. The percussive steps came round to my side and stopped. Her warm hands floated lightly over my naked exposed body, taut from straining against my bonds, hot from wine and arousal. Suddenly her mouth was on mine, her soft insistent tongue parting my lips and engulfing me in warm wet words.

"I'm going to take off your blindfold and you'll keep your eyes closed you understand?"

"Ok"

She twisted my nipple. Not too hard, but hard enough to make me wince.

"Ok? No, no, no, 'Yes Mistress'"

Ahhhh....ok so that's the way we're going are we? Well that's fine by me. I rarely get to be the one who just lies back and gets taken care of so this I am down with.

"Sorry Mistress. Yes, I'll keep my eyes closed"

Off came the blindfold, down stayed my eyelids. The clip clop of expensive shoe on wood moved round to the bottom of the bed and stopped.

"Open your eyes"

I did as I was told. In front of me was Blondie, she had pulled her hair back into a ponytail which only served to highlight the heavy, smokey eye make up she'd put on for me. Her full lips were a glossy red. She had put on dark green latex underwear....the bra was a demi-cup, offering up her bare nipples, already hard and proud in the softly lit room. A latex bow was tied in the middle. The knickers were high cut around the ass, allowing her curvy ass cheeks to roll under. I was gobsmacked. No one has ever gone to that much effort or looked that overtly sexual for me. And I was tied down to her bed unable to move. To say I was tuned on is the understatement of the year.

Blondie went on to tease, use, fuck and blow my mind for the next hour. I left happy, drained and feeling almost mildly stoned from how much I'd been hyperventilating and how hard I'd cum. Whilst I know she likes me and as well as the sex we've infrequently enjoyed, I really appreciate how much effort she went to for me at that stage. It may sound just like some pretty awesome sex, but I think it was delivered with a lot of care and thought too, dirty sex delivered with a caring hand.

Since then we'd messed around a little but nothing too full on, however we'd been flirting heavily. She'd shared this site with me one Sunday which was all about restraint, sensory deprivation, vibrators and all sorts. The girls in it were really hot, with the scenes pretty inventive too. I found it a massive turn on watching what she sent. I love receiving porn links from girls - it's like a privileged window into her desires, what turns her on.

As her flatmate was away she invited me over saying she wanted to cook me dinner as thanks for something I'd done to help her. I went home after work and showered, trimmed my pubic hair (I think if girls can, then surely we can put the effort in to a little downstairs grooming), put a nice Pinot Noir in my bag along with lube, a roll of bondage tape and headed over. If I'd have gotten run over and killed whilst on my ride over there, any Paramedics going through my stuff would have been shaking his head not just at another senseless loss of life, but at the injustice and cruelty of this loss not happening on the way back from wherever I was headed.

We hugged and I followed her in, walking into her front room, it was warm, verging on hot, filled with the aromas of cooking food. She was wearing a slightly comical outfit, a white virginal chintzy dress and ugg boots ("What? They're comfy!") blonde hair was worn down and that same red lipstick on. I poured wine from an open bottle and walked over to look at what she was cooking. As she stood stirring the pot I looked over her shoulder. My hands held her hips pulling her back into me and I kissed the nape of her neck, grazing my lips on her - she smelt soft. Shampoo and perfume. She sighed, turning her head around as my lips met hers. As I her in front of me we kissed intimately, slowly, an affectionate greeting as much as a compulsion unable to be suppressed. My hands slid forwards and up to settle on her breasts, our tongues moving faster as she arched her back and pushed her ass into me. I pulled away smiling at her and turned a wooden chair out from the table behind us, sitting down to talk as she finished cooking. She tasted of scotch.

Amongst generally shooting the shit, over dinner we talked about her ex as well as guys she had been messing around with. She envies the luck I've had with dates, saying that on the one hand she's happy for me, but on the other it frustrates her that I keep on managing to meet, if not keepers, people who are good looking and good in bed. Seems the guys she's been dating haven't really been too much to speak of enough enough departments, she's just not had much luck. The guys she's been messing about with have either been dicks, or overly enthusiastic (for example, one was early 20's was dull and immature but in possession of "a gargantuan cock though"). She's going to waste. If we hadn't have been friends first I'm sure we'd have definitely gone out with each other — maybe had a crazy 6 months blowing each others minds, ruining each other for the next before we'd fall out and not speak for years (if our trip to France is anything to go by anyway).

I started to clear our plates away and take them into the kitchen. She told me to leave it and to open another bottle of wine. As I did, she bent over and began loading plates into the dishwasher - only she was bent at the waist, her legs straight so her dress was riding up and I could see the black lace panties underneath. I walked over and reached between her legs, my hand cupping her lips. She didn't jump, didn't straighten up, just stopped what she was doing and enjoyed the firm but gentle manipulation of my fingers. I delivered a short sharp slap to her ass and told her to take her dress off. This she obediently did standing there barefoot (thankfully) in front of me in black Myla underwear. My hands pulled her into me by her bum as our mouths locked and we kissed deeply, then more fervently as the arousal rose in us.

Picking her up I pushed her up against the wall, the hot skin of her back making contact with the cool smooth surface as I ground myself into her, pinning her there with my mouth and hardening cock. Looking into her eyes I told her I was going to fuck the shit out of her tonight, her eyes smiled as she moved forwards to kiss me again biting my tongue. I pulled my head back and away and told her that tonight I was in charge. Still holding her into me I walked us to her bedroom, our eyes locked. Pushing the door open with her back and a thrust of my groin I threw Blondie onto the bed and stood over her devouring her curves with my eyes. Blondie is not a tidy girl. Clothes were strewn around the room and her blinds were open. I picked up a peach coloured blouse and draped it over the lampshade by her bed, throwing a softer, warmer light over the bed and her body that I would soon make mine.

"You're my slut tonight, you will do as I say you understand?"

She nodded.

"I said do you understand?" I punctuated this with a gentle slap in her face (along with various other pain meted out on her, she likes this)

"Yes sir, sorry, I'm your slut tonight"

"Good, now I want you to take your underwear off and play with yourself for me"

I joined in the disrobing by taking my shirt off as I watched her slide her underwear down her shapely legs. Instead of lying back, she turned over and got on her knees, pushing her ass in the air as her hand rubbed her clit between her legs. I tried to stand there watching impassively but my cock wouldn't let me be that guy, so I pulled her towards me and started to hungrily tongue her asshole, my hands reaching forwards, holding her tits as she played with herself.

Spanking her and pushing her over I told her to lie on her back.

Picking up some tights that were lying on the floor I tied one hand to the frame of her bed, her eyes lit up as I did this. Tying up the other one tight so she had very little movement, I kissed her hard - turned on at how vulnerable and available she was now. I couldn't wait to own this little slut for the night. I kissed my way down her neck to her breasts, planting slow, wet kisses on each nipple before kissing my way down to her pussy to grace it with a long, slow, lingering lick, tasting her wetness before I slid my way to the end of the bed and stood up, retracting my touch from her. A wry smile crept across my face as I stared into her questioning eyes, I looked at her naked exposed body there, her breasts pert and standing proud pushed up from her stretched and arched back. I watched her close and flex her thighs as she tried to put pressure on her clit, her questioning eyes still locked on mine. With no explanation I turned around and walked out of the room.

I returned with the bondage tape retrieved from my bag. Throwing it on the bed next to her I walked round to the side of her and ran my hands up and down her body, not staying in any one place, just lightly making contact with all of her skin. I stood up and slowly undid my jeans, then hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my underwear I pulled them both down, my hard cock springing up - Blondie's eyes were transfixed on me.

Picking up the tape, theatrically I unrolled a two foot piece in one go and tore it off from the roll. Not a word had been spoken since I had told her to play with herself.

"I'm going to blindfold you"

"Yes" she said. Just a little too quickly.

I wrapped the tape once, then twice around her eyes. Sticking to itself, the light was entirely put out from her eyes; her world now consisting solely of sounds, textures, suggestions and my intentions.

Holding Blondie's head firmly in my hands, I started to plant soft kisses on her lips - she'd try to kiss me back but I'd just hold her head to the pillow and pull back. Things were on my terms. I started to kiss her with greater sexual intent, my tongue lazily sliding around with hers as I got more turned on. I carried on just kissing her like this for 5 or so minutes - she was getting more and more turned on, pressing her legs together and squirming on the bed, her chest and face were flushed red. I stood up again and told her to open her legs wide and to not move. My hands gently stroked up and down her smooth legs, from foot to knee, from calf to thigh, inching ever closer to her smooth pussy. Moving onto the bed I began to kiss the inside of her thighs as my hands kept wandering over her body. Her breath was quicker now, soft moans of frustration were involuntarily coming from her. I couldn't wait any longer to touch her, so god knows how she was feeling. I ceased all contact and lay looking up at her.

She was breathing heavily and as she tried to close her legs I slapped her thigh,

"Did I tell you that you could close your legs?"

"No"

A red palm print began to appear.

I moved up and taking her nipples between my fingers I twisted them firmly, the pain making her shout in surprise.

"I told you you were to only do as I said"

"Yes daddy, I'm sorry"

Daddy? My cock twitched harder (Hearing a girl say Daddy to me has since turned into a weakness of mine.)

"Yes. You will be.....now you keep those legs wide open, and don't you dare close them"

And with that I left the room.

I'd picked my phone up on the way out and I sat with a glass of wine in her front room checking messages, looking at facebook and generally amusing myself and tormenting Blondie. You see I knew that she was there tied powerless to her bed with no way of quelling the desire that I had started to build in her, that she'd be thinking about what was next, listening to hear what it was I was doing, turning herself on even more.

I walked silently on the balls of my feet back to her bedroom, opened the door and closed it with a single click behind me. She was there with her legs still open, her chest heaving in frustration. I stood there silently, 10 ft away from her. She uttered one word - almost a whimper,

"Please..."

Enough was enough. I padded over to her,

"You've been a good girl for me...and Daddy always gives his good girls what they deserve"

I knelt in the centre of the bed with my head between her legs. With nothing touching her I leaned in closer, my mouth inches from her. I breathed my hot breath onto her and then with a wet open mouth I kissed her clit several times, each kiss was like an electric shock to her, her whole body jerking as my lips made contact. I started to blow softly onto her clit, my hands now either side of her pussy, thumbs stroking up and down just outside of her lips.

"Pleeeaassee touch me.....pleeeaassse, I need you so badly, I need it!"

One thumb pulled above her clit exposing it more, the other slid up and down her wet lips and when I say wet I mean it was ridiculous how wet she was, ridiculous but not surprising given the circumstances. She moaned in gratitude at my touch and I rewarded her by the beginnings of the rest of the night, my tongue making contact with her clit for the first time, softly, barely grazing it, bathing it in the soft caresses of my tongue. Licking my finger I ran it over and on her clit in slow, slow circles, barely touching her. As I did this I was talking dirty to her, telling her what I'd been thinking about her over the past few days. Talked explicitly to her about our trip to France and some of the other things we got up to in an apartment we went on to stay in. As I did this I held her legs wide open, I was driving her crazy I knew and I loved it. I stopped talking and with both hands exposed her swollen clit more. My tongue took over from my finger, starting to lick her properly, lapping up and down her pussy lips. I slowly slid my middle finger inside her for the first time. She covered me up to the knuckle in soft, wet perfection, the end of my finger pressing onto her g-spot making her moan and arch her back.

"Lift your legs up to your tits, I want to play with that ass too"

Doing as she was told I spat onto her asshole. Holding her legs in place I began to massage her tight little ring and as she relaxed I felt her yield, the tip of my finger entering her as she inhaled in time. I returned my tongue to her clit again now, my finger remaining inside her, not pushing any further, not pulling back. With my other hand I started to slowly fuck her with my finger again, building into a steady rhythm - every now and then my finger would curl up touching on her g-spot teasingly. I spat on my finger again and began to slide my finger further into her ass. Once she had relaxed into this I began to fuck her at a counter rhythm to the two fingers I was now fucking her pussy with. She was straining against her bonds, moaning and calling my name in between snatched breaths. I was now flicking her clit with my tongue in a fast regular rhythm, my fingers playing her in ways that were making her lose her mind.

You know those 'lost in sex' moments? I mean in a zen way where you disappear entirely in the moment, well she was certainly there, moaning, glazed and not entirely in the room I don't think. I didn't want her to cum yet, I wanted to draw this out for a while yet. Plus I was really fucking turned on myself.

So moving up I lay between her legs, my weight on top of her for the first time, my hard cock was pressed up against her, our stomachs pressed together and I lay there. My face was inches from hers.

"You don't get to cum yet you slut. You only get to cum when I allow it"

I slapped her hard. From out of nowhere. I imagine the shock took away from the force of the blow but the ringing and white lights behind her closed eyes would push their way through.

My lips met hers and she kissed me back slowly, wary from the blow reminding her who's she was. As our tongues swirled together I ground my cock onto her. Then kneeling up I straddled her chest, my dick inches from her face. She opened her mouth and in her blind state moved her head forwards searching for my cock, I took it in hand and guided myself into her soft willing mouth. She started just by taking the head of me in her mouth, circling around me with her tongue - it was considered, not caught in the moment - and it felt amazing. She then started to bob her head back and forth, her mouth engulfing my rock hard cock, glistening with her saliva and my pre cum in the soft light. There was no subtlety to this moment at all, just lustful action. I started to wank myself as she sucked on the bulbous hard head of me. I held her hair and started to thrust forward and fuck her mouth. I reached round and began to play with her clit, my cock enjoyed the vibrations from her moans as her tongue swirled round it.

This was getting all too much, I'd been playing with Blondie for what must have been 30 minutes and this was the first time my aching cock had been getting some much needed attention. I pulled myself out from her mouth, moving back down the bed I threw her legs open and placed my cock on her by now swollen lips and at last slid myself into her. Though she was incredibly wet, she was tight too, I could feel her stretching to accommodate me — her pussy feeling so fucking hot in every way. I buried myself in her fully with one slow, unrelenting movement, my desire for her an unstoppable force which would destroy her if only to own her in this moment . She let out a deep moan of relief and pleasure. Holding myself up above her with straight arms so only my thick cock was in contact with her, I pulled all the way out before slamming myself back into her, the smack of our bodies echoed in the room, harder, louder, faster. She started to moan louder now as I fucked her which only served to increase the power, the sight of her pretty features twisting in pleasure from my cock, her hands bound to the bed unable to do anything other than be fucked by me, her beautiful body rendered a vessel to take and receive whatever I required of her made me start to lose any sense of anything other than us. Moving onto my knees and holding her legs wide apart I started to really pound her beneath me, my breath shallow and rapid, serving only to nourish a primeval and animalistic side. Her tits bounced up and down with the force of my fucking, my hands moved onto them, pulling her onto me and holding her down as I bore down into her. One hand closed around her throat, licking my thumb I started rubbing her clit with the other as I continued with the relentless pace, my muscles burning from the extended sprint, my cock burning too, she felt so good on me. Blondie's mouth was a black hole, gaping wide, her face troubled and red, a choked gurgling sound was coming from her throat, she was close to cumming...

SMACK!!!

Whilst still holding one leg up I'd spanked her hard. It broke her out of her trance and brought her back into the room. I pulled out of her, edged further down the bed, kissed her clit and then stood up by the side of the bed and did nothing.

"What? What are you doing?"

Nothing.

I said and did nothing. All she could hear was my heavy breath slowly returning to normal. Sweat dripped down my chest.

I walked to the bedside cabinet guessing I would find some lube (yep), taking it out I placed it on her stomach, the cool bottle making her jolt with surprise. Bending down I kissed her on her lips and placed my hand on the side of her face, as I did I unwrapped the tape and gave her one of her senses back. She blinked in the light, soft but bright to eyes which had been plunged into pitch black and an internal world of external forces for a long time now. I moved in between her legs on my knees,

"I want you to watch me now. I want you to see my face, to see my taught body as I fuck you in the ass." I rested a thumb on her clit as I said this and applied a little pressure. A frown of pleasure passed over her face, as I did this she moved and the bottle of lube rolled off onto the bed. "I want you to be looking into my eyes when I let you cum, I want to see your face as I finally let you cum Daddy's cock"

"Yes, I so want that. Please..."

Just saying this as I looked at her had gotten me harder. Grabbing a pillow I placed it under her lower back, raising her hips higher. She opened her legs and slowly dropped them down. I picked up the lube, squeezed it onto my dick, closed the cap and then smoothed the cool gel all over me. I placed the tip of my cock on her and started to slowly circle her ass, settling directly on her. I gave her a questioning look to make sure she was ready,

"Fuck me, I want you to use my ass"

Excellent.

I pushed forwards a little and felt the tip of me push inside her. I began to play with her cunt as I did this, rubbing from inside her wetness up and over her clit then back again. I pushed further into her, our eyes locked in lust, watching the other for the first time since I'd tied her up. It'd been an hour she'd been powerless, submitting to my will. Edging myself back out I then slid back further into her, the feeling tighter, but at the same time looser than how her tight little pussy felt on me. She was now relaxed on my cock and I was able to start fucking her.....and she let me know she was loving it (I found out after that she'd not been fucked in the ass that year and had been wanking a lot thinking about a good ploughing).

I started fucking her with slow smooth thrusts, I didn't want to get carried away and hurt her. As I did, I slid two fingers into her pussy, as my cock pulled out, my fingers plunged in. After a few minutes of this I was able to build up a pace and fuck her hard now, I was starting to get lost in the moment myself now - my hands pinning her down, my cock pistoning in and out of her. I returned my fingers to her little cunt, fully inside and started with a beckoning motion, playing on her g-spot. Blondie's moans grew in pitch and volume, driving my thrusts on harder and faster, the muscles in my thighs starting to burn now, my glutes aching from the repeated hard thrusts now too, sweat started to trickle down the furrow in the muscles of my back.

One hand was gripping her breast hard, steadying myself as I pounded her with even more power, my fingers pressing steadily on her g-spot, rubbing her from the inside - there were no formed words from her mouth now, just lost moans of transcendent abandonment. I wish I could have filmed us that night. Honestly you would have fucking loved watching us (Actually, that's something I'd love, another girl watching us, joining us. I've thought it many times when enjoying those intimate moments of...self contemplation). She was getting close again now, so was I. Her moans subsided as she began to tense up, telling me she was going to cum, I pounded her ass hard, my fingers buried up to the knuckle glued to her g-spot as she tumbled over the edge. Thank god her flatmate was away because holy shit she let rip, a scream that actually shocked me, her whole body tensing up, arms pulling at her bonds and body convulsing as her orgasm ripped through her body. I pulled my fingers and cock out from her spasming body and she rolled over, pulling her legs up and rocking a little as her orgasm subsided.

God, I love it when a girl cums properly. It's just so so hot. She told me afterwards that it was her best orgasm of the year, and it showed. I envy her, girls, women, I envy you the different orgasms you seem to be able to have. I envy you the many different ways in which we can touch you to give you pleasure, the fact you can have multiple orgasms. I'm sure you're thinking "Well sure, but it's a pay off for the pain of child birth". That and "Yep, it's fucking awesome being a girl getting fucked".

Untying the tights holding her I kissed her wrists and held her a little, her little hands were cold from a lack of blood, she'd been cutting the blood off for god knows how long as she strained against the ties. She lay with her head on my chest recovering as I held her. We kissed and she made good use of her hands, playing with my cock. To cut a long story short, she took the lube and gave me an amazing handjob. I lay back and was completely taken in hand (I love this, a good handjob with a girl confident enough to hold me with her eyes, her kisses, her words and I'm in complete heaven). She talked dirty to me describing a scene with a girl we'd met, how I'd be fucking her whilst Blondie watched and got involved in various ways. I came hard. Probably not rivalling Blondie in volume but I wasn't far off.

I've really prattled on here haven't I? I hope it wasn't too 'fact after fact after fact', it was quite an evening, one which I probably haven't really done justice to really. You'll just have to take my word.

Well, good night reader - thanks for having the wherewithal to get this far...

Until next time x

One day, all this shall be mine...

From a great blog, interesting stuff and some great photography in here

I need to have more good sex again, if only for the anecdotes.

We've just had a long weekend in the UK, so this coupled with a mini heat wave meant that I spent most of the past four days like a tramp: drinking in the daytime whilst lying on the ground in a park. Lovely.

As with most other self respecting London Hipsters, I spent some of this lazing around in London Fields - home of the stupidly dressed cunt, gangland shooting and fixed gear bike pile. The heat played havoc with my libido over the weekend, and this coupled with underdressed beautiful girls everywhere made the pursuit of sex a key aim.

In this endeavour I had only partial success.

Friday night me and Georgia were in contact again. We were saying we were both horny and how it was a shame we weren't nearer. She put a status update on facebook saying "Wishes @myrealname was in my town tonight". Tells me she wants to choke on my cock. That she's had the opportunity to fuck recently but hadn't. That there was no one in Newcastle like me.

Ok this is getting out of hand now. A facebook update tagging me and saying all of that??? It's too much and I decide something has to be done. I tell her that since next weekend is another long one, either she should come to me, or I should go to her. "You have to come up to see me"

I followed this up today with a pleasant facebook message (I didn't want to be turning the sex dial up to 11 here) and said since we were both now sober what did she reckon to the notion of me coming up to see her?

What's that you ask? That'd be my message box since I sent it.

Nothing. No reply.

I can't say I'll be surprised if she ignores it, and as a result I can't say I'll be gutted because this sort of thing doesn't happen to people like me. But hope is a powerful and dangerous thing - until it reaches the weekend, every time I get a notification I'll be jumping to my page again, hoping against hope... ;)

Having got very drunk on Friday night, I decided to save money and brain cells by staying away from an annual party a friend was throwing; daybreak seen through bleary eyes was the inevitable result there. Posy texted me late in the afternoon saying she wanted to fuck me, however a girl called Kelly I've been speaking to but not yet met lives down the road from me and was around too. I decided that a new challenge was more enticing than a guaranteed fuck, however this backfired when Kelly couldn't make it and Posy had gone on to make other plans when I told her I wasn't around. So it was an unremarkable night of food, tv, sofa and masturbation for me. Oh the glamour.

Given that I awoke fresh, went to the gym, and was in the mid point of a bank holiday weekend I decided that a sunday session was in order, - aaahhh decorum, I am your slave. Kelly and I had been texting on and off with greater frequency over the past week and it seemed that tonight we were both out in the same area so we were going to try to meet up.

I walked into the crowded pub after midnight, I scanned the room and saw her at the back. She stood out. Long blonde fine hair cascading down over her shoulders, electric blue eyes and vivid red lips drew me in. I kissed her hello and offered to get her a drink. I returned with a Guinness for me and a vodka tonic for her and got introduced to the friends she was with. It turned out I actually knew quite a lot of people in there, over the next ten minutes a mixture of guys and girls were coming up to say hi - I was aware this wasn't making me look like a friendless wonder so things could be worse.

She herself had a couple of guys hanging around her, one of whom was more like a lost pet, I caught him saying something like "Unless you don't like me being here" - poor guy, he was in a bad place to say this. There's nothing worse than desperation, and it sounded like he was trapped in this place. I had no doubt that Kelly had created this situation, she said she had kissed him once and was now trying to avoid him - but you don't say things like that unless you've been treated in conflicting ways, I could see a shadow of my own state of mind earlier this year in this.

We had a little gak and decided to go back to my place nearby and then maybe go on to a house party. Only we didn't, we stayed up and drank the best part of a 2 ltr bottle of whiskey together and neither of us can remember getting to bed.

We woke up feeling HORRENDOUS and with sketchy memories of the night before. We'd kissed but nothing more. The next day we kissed more and she teased me a lot (stroking me through my underwear, allowing me to fleetingly stroke her through hers) before she left to go back to hers.

"I'm a tease. I like it."

This statement coupled with the poor lost pet man last night makes me think that she's a potential handful. But I'm back in a place where I'm able to revel in this a little more. Though she may not be perfect, or even possibly a 'worthy adversary', she is a challenge. And I like that. Oh, and she's hot. She was pretty in her facebook pictures, but even better in the flesh. She is flat chested, but has an amazing ass and she is very good with eye contact, I have a mirror at the end of my bed and as I had her bent over, my hand outside the material stroking over her hot wet lips, she had no problem with staring into my eyes.

I ended up passing out for a few hours again, the hangover beating my brain into a retreat to hide under the nullifying blanket of unconsciousness. I woke up to texts from her saying she had frustrated herself, so a few suggestive texts from me meant that she decided she was going to come back over before she went on to a friends for dinner. I showered, woke myself up and waited for her to arrive.

In short, she IS a massive tease. But she's honest with it, and as I say I'm not put off by it. Not yet anyway. I'm not going to rise to it, I'm going to be nonchalant about her denials, and I'll be a worthy adversary to her. It's what she needs/wants I know. I think she's a definite sub in the making too, I can tell she's going to respond to me being in control when the time comes...

We arranged to meet again tonight only she pulled out saying she'd not slept and was too tired to be good company. I wasn't gutted that I'd be able to eat fajitas, sit on the sofa and read my book, today has been hard and tiring. We'll do this another time, I know she's into me and intrigued by me, she's already said as much.

I've joined a new site and as well as Kelly I'm speaking to another girl for the first time today, we're already having some great banter and we've already agreed we're going to meet up when she gets back from visiting family in S Africa. I just pray she doesn't have a heavy accent. Saffers: along with brummies, the one accent I can't stand.

In other news I've started to think about K again. A lot of the time I feel like I'm able to see her and I'll be able to be laid back about it. If only so I can hear from her why she felt it ok to treat me as she did, and what happened. I know I won't get an honest answer, but I still need closure. Thinking about her now and she feels like a stranger I didn't really know, and she was in ways to be able to treat me as she has.

I think I may suggest doing this in the next few weeks, however if I can keep myself occupied with moving on enough maybe I'll refrain. My head thinks I should just never bother seeing her again, only bad will come of it. But my heart (the one armed with the baseball bat as per the post below)? I think my heart will at some point win out.

I. Still. Miss. Her.

Remember me?

Hello anyone who reads this, I'm sorry I've neglected our shared little moments together. I've been snowed under with work and as a result haven't really been up to much outside of that and seeing friends.

I did have sex with a French girl over the weekend, but it was an online thing so whilst physically fun, was emotionally not particularly nourishing so I'll tell you about it some other time maybe.

I'm abroad for the next week for work, not sure if I'll have much time to myself in my room or not. But I intend to tell you about a night me and Blondie spent together a few weeks back as well as anything else which pops up of note.

So since I don't have much to offer up, I'll instead share with you a few things I saw today that made sense to me.

We've all been there, drunk or irrational and decide that contacting someone we know we shouldn't is actually totally a good idea. This made me smile:

Also a quote from Cat Stevens I read today which resonated with me. I thought I'd share:

"I always knew I'd look back on the times I cried and laugh, but I never thought I'd look back on the times I laughed and cry"

Take care and be happy. Until the next time. 

Yours unremarkably xx

Three dates, one weekend.

Ok I'm being a little disingenuous here for the sake of a title which was for my own amusement - I should jump in and point out that since it was mothers day, one of these 'dates' was in fact my Mum. But in my defence, she was the only one I took out to lunch and bought flowers for.

I started talking to Agnes as a result of a tweet from Creative Review which mentioned a dating website called doingsomething.co.uk. Since it was free I joined up a few weeks back thinking that maybe the girls on there may be a little more interesting or creative as a result. They weren't, there wasn't really much going on there, I think it was just a bit of friendly promotion for one of the editorial staffs friends.

I spoke to a couple of girls and nearly met up with Agnes last weekend only to have her cancel on the day - her friend got hold of Primal Scream tickets at Brixton so fair play. Inconvenience aside I liked the fact she was going, they were playing Screamadelica in it's entirety the lucky cow.

Agnes lived in Notting Hill but after a few mid way suggestions she came over East this Saturday just gone. Although not quite my type, she looked pretty in her pictures - when I showed my friend her picture they remarked "Where'd you find her, a lads mag?". She was a buxom blonde (Does buxom ever get used in any other context? Seems to me it's a word that's lost the richness of ambiguity - poor Buxom, it must be so jealous of all the other words).

I sat at the bar in Shoreditch House and ordered first a pint, and then after that an Old Fashioned. She was running late. I talked to the barman, a young enthusiastic guy. I always do in a good cocktail bar, whilst I'm a discerning drinker I also defer to their knowledge and expertise. As I sat back sipping on my well made drink I looked around the bar and was struck by quite how many seemingly single girls there were there, and by how so many of them were really quite stunning. Note to self: drink there more often.

Agnes walked in. She had long curly blonde hair and wore ornate gold boho earrings. Black trousers were matched by a black vest top covering her size 12 frame, and she was one of those girls who had an assortment of bangles covering half of her forearm. She was pretty West London. Agnes had studied fashion at a London art college and was working in a creative job now. Her taste in music was good, and she was quite pretty. Everything was on paper working to her advantage. Only I don't at any point remember conversation moving past chit chat, whilst we got on fine we didn't really talk or laugh with any real purpose. You can't apply a formula to these things. We kissed whilst sat at the bar, nothing passionate, more just soft lips with a suggestion of tongue. It was all perfectly pleasant. 11 o'clock came and went, so we talked about what we could do next. I said I didn't mind, we could go on to another bar or stay here?

"Or maybe we could go back to yours?"

Yes. Yes we could Agnes, that's a great idea.

I started writing this blog as a document of the dates I went on, and to some extent as a sounding board for some of the things I think. I didn't start it to write erotica. When things were filled with passion I'll write with a pen loaded with it in abundance. But some dates will be just 'ok' and I intend to cover these too. I hope that doesn't make it all even worse to read, I believe their inclusion to be a necessary part of it. Life hasn't dealt me with the looks or fortune to be able to date beautiful exotic women with Doctorates every day of the week, so this will be reflected here too.

Back at mine no one was up so I walked us into a dark front room. I first put music on the stereo - I forget what now - then fixed us drinks, bringing our glasses over to her on the sofa (yes, the broken one). We'd barely had a couple of sips before before she put hers down so as to better put her self on top of me. I was taken aback but turned on by her forthrightness, her grinding on me and her heavy breasts in my face. She broke off to say that she wasn't going to sleep with me, she'd like to get to know me better before that. Absolutely fair enough.

Ten minutes later we were sans clothes on top of my bed, drunkenly rolling around in the throes of heavy foreplay. This was a lucky weekend for me, Agnes was a good kisser and as it turned out she was an even better cocksucker. She revelled in it, with lots of eye contact, saliva and wet hands sliding up and down my cock. My contribution at this point was minimal, moans and the odd garbled "Fuck" or "Oh god".

I stepped up my participation and told her to "Get that fucking pussy on my face now too" which she did a dirty little smile on her face as she moved around. I've mentioned before how I love to give head, and having a well kept pussy all up in my face for me to bury my tongue in whilst a girl skill-fully sucks and moans on my cock is one of my favourite ways to pass the time of a evening. Delightful.

Realising that I was probably too drunk to cum in any hurry I flipped her off and kissing my way down her body, lingering on first her mouth, then her heavy breasts until I ended up back with my face in her waxed pussy.

(A hairless vagina - not sure if I've covered this before, I used to think this wasn't particularly attractive. Then one day me and K were talking about it and she shaved it all off for me, sadly I can still recall how it felt going down on her perfectly smooth pussy that first time. It. Was. Amazing. For all her faults, her pussy was not one of them - well, actually that's a lie but I'm not going there.)

I could tell from how she responded to my tough that there was a good chance I'd be able to make her cum. So, drunk or not, I wasn't going to come up from there without doing my belligerent best to make Agnes cum. After maybe 10-15 minutes of my best efforts she was moaning and clawing at my head, swearing and telling me not to stop as I pushed her on into orgasm. After it had subsided enough I moved up and held her, kissing her and smiling (probably looking like a kid who's just been told by their hot teacher that they've spelt Xylophone correctly and aren't they a clever boy?).

"I want to make you cum now too"

Ahh Agnes, thank you. But I knew I was too drunk to cum quickly and I was happy to have made sure she'd cum, so I told her as much. I think she was actually pretty relieved that she'd not have to have the pressure or resultant jaw ache to reciprocate. She left shortly after in a cab home. I was relieved too, I wanted to get a lie in and then get up to sort out stuff for mothers day.

From drunken sex to plans to buy my mum flowers; if this post doesn't represent my wish to tell it how it is in this blog I don't know what will.

Whilst I was out and about in sunny East London sorting stuff out, Posy texted me saying she wanted to see me later. She'd sent me a few unsolicited pictures over the past few weeks, one which was of her shirt open, small pert breasts bare and framed by her long hair, her full lips were just in shot. The other of her bent over in french knickers. These are nice messages to get. Anyone who has my number, please text me similar things (If I do get any I'll fucking shit myself, none of you are meant to have my number). So seeing that I hadn't cum and I hadn't taken care of myself at all I thought why not. I replied telling her I wanted her to wear hold ups.

Maybe it's a case of not being mentally available to get into this situation or maybe it's because I've not met someone who's into it, but regardless I've not had a fuck buddy for a while (Blondie doesn't count, we're buddies who occasionally have exceptional sex). It's nice to have someone you're attracted to, who you can talk to, but you're both not looking for anything more at that point. You're happy to converse, but all of this is just an appetiser to the main course, a healthy portion of fuck.

We texted later in the day when I was done with lunch. I said we could meet in a pub near me to catch up if she wanted. "Or maybe I can just bring a bottle straight to yours".

At about 6:30pm she did just that.

Half a bottle of vodka she'd had in the freezer, a bottle of red, two limes and some soda were all brought in an art supplies bag. I loved the decorum in drink options here. Her hair was left down, a peach collared blouse was buttoned up to the top (always cute) with a long silver necklace hanging over a black bra I could make out through her top. A pencil skirt didn't cover the fact that she was wearing stockings that were somewhere between knee high socks and hold ups - good girl. Whereas Agnes was identifiably West, Posy was clearly East, and I'm a complete sucker for that look. I love it.  She looked stylish and sexy, which was more than could be said for me. Slim jeans, no underwear and a purple t-shirt. But fuck it, I intended to impress whilst in my birthday suit, not my wardrobe. We went into my room, and straight away we were kissing - kisses that were neither tender, nor animal, they were somewhere in between. I pushed her up against my door, my hands reaching round to hold under the curve of her tight ass, pushing against her with my pelvis.

"Let's make some drinks first" she said.

I had to subtly scoop my erection into the waistband of my jeans and hope it wasn't too noticeable under my t-shirt if my flatmate came into the kitchen.

I made us vodka lime sodas (the ubiquitous drink for hungry models the world over), and we went back to my room. Something funny occurs to me here, I re read my post about her after this and I see that I played Beach House as background music last time she was over. Curiously I did the same again this time too. That said, this time I also threw in industry darlings  The Weeknd this time too - I can't make my mind up about them, they just sound too homosexually R&B for me to fully get into it other than when I have my headphones in. Anyway...

The sex was better this time, a mixture of familiarity and sobriety no doubt helping both of us. Alcohol makes for some spectacular experimentation, especially in the early days but sober sex with where it's at. The same goes with cocaine too, in fact possibly more so if you're doing more than a few casual skinny lines.

We kissed and slowly undressed each other. Lips, hands and tongues replacing underwear as we went. I went down on her when I slid her french knickers off, but after 5 minutes I was too turned on to stay down there - I'd not cum in about three days. So when I came up to kiss her she instantly pushed me back and took me in her mouth. Now when I said that Agnes gave good head, I now realise that I need to employ a superlative to differentiate between her and Posy; because Posy gave GREAT head (Blondie still retains the crown as Head Girl). I was lying there blissed out getting lost in it and thinking if I let her carry on I may actually be able to actually cum. But before that was to happen we needed to fuck. We were more comfortable with each other this second time and we were here for a need not a romance.

I told Posy to get on her knees and positioned her side on at the foot of my bed, in front of the floor to ceiling mirrors that the developer had very kindly installed in my room. Rubbing the tip of my dick up and down her, I teased her, spreading her wetness up and down. Her face was flat to the bed looking at our reflection as I fed myself into her. Our eyes were locked as I did this, a look of pain crept onto her face as I slid myself into her, a frown dissolving into closed eyes and an open mouth. I'm not saying this to imply I'm massive (I'm not), but I always wonder how it must feel for girls in that first stretching stroke of a cock filling them. You see for us, it feels great, but it's not going to be that same initial stretch and filled with cock feeling you guys must get. Hmm, something I'll never know.

There was no grace or poise, we were having animalistic snarling sex. I was fucking her from behind like a man possessed, my hands holding her in a vice like grip pulling her onto me. Her hair was falling down covering her face so I pulled her hair back, and holding it in one hand turned her head into the mirror to watch us. We both had a sheen of perspiration on us, the light outlining muscle and curve with shadow and soft gold in the warm lighting.

I actually at this point had to open the window, the radiator was on for some reason and we were both over heating. I picked our drinks up from the floor, and like athletes in a break in play we gulped down alcoholic rehydration before entering back into the fray.....she lay back on the bed, and with my hands I spread her legs wide, pulling her closer to me as I kneeled in the centre of my bed. I wet the tip of me and started to rub myself up and down on her clit, every now and then drawing further down and dipping myself into her but always returning to constant, wet, cock shaped friction on her clit. She stared pleading with me to fuck her about now which of course just made me concentrate more on drawing this out till she couldn't stand it anymore.

I positioned myself over her, my weight on the balls of my feet and my hands either side of her head. Nothing was in contact with her body except for the tip of my cock which she was fumbling with in her desire to have me in her. With just the head guided by her inside herself we started to kiss. I slowly moved my cock centimeters back and forth inside her as I did. Still holding myself above so nothing touched her except for my cock I slammed my hips forward, and with a slap as my pubic bone met her clit my cock and my weight were fully in and on her. I started up steady hard fucking strokes, pulling all the way out and slamming back in, her gasps were coming quick and fast, her moans getting louder.

She wrapped her arms around me surprisingly tightly, so tight and intense that it actually threw me a little. I carried on though, she was on the verge of cumming now - as she did she held me tighter still, letting out a long breathy moan as the waves of pleasure make her shake beneath me. It's not often that a girl cums like that, underneath me and from just penetration so coupled with the tight gripping it took me by surprise.

We lay back taking our drinks up again, we talked a little and she kept on trying to hold my hand. Now I'm all for cuddling, for her lying on my chest after this with me stroking her hair, but the hand holding thing feels too intimate. I appreciate that may sound stupid to you - we may have been calling each other every name under the sun with particularly depraved or close sexual acts going on, but holding hands afterwards is different and weirds me out a bit. We're not that close. Anyway.

Posy has said a few times to me now that I have "a perfect cock", which I don't take to be anything other than flattery, but I'm a guy and I love to hear her say it. She genuinely likes sucking on my cock in any case, it shows from her skill and how wet she is after too so I'm happy anyway.

She tells me to put my drink down and snakes her way down my body, she sucks and nibbles my nipples which sends a shockwave straight to my cock which rises to the occasion again. Posy began fellating me like a pro again, it was fucking amazing. My hands were gripping the bars of my bed, my legs tensed as I could feel my own orgasm creeping up in me. My legs were tensing so much that they started to shake, which was making me self conscious and start to hold me back. But Posy just started moaning onto me and pumping her hand on me harder, pushing me closer and closer until I was no longer in control. I began uncontrollably tumbling down a hill, momentum gathering until I fell over the edge of the cliff, consciousness leaving me as I fell, weightlessness replacing all sensation, an intense, warm, hard yet molten ball of pleasure within my core.

Posy didn't stop - she continued massaging me, milking me, sucking each and every last drop of pleasure from me. Involuntary judders issued out from my muscles as aftershocks of pleasure came from her hands and mouth.

I lay there in a zen like state sighing and thinking "Goddamn I need a girlfriend who loves sucking my dick"

I have no dates on the horizon at the moment, I suppose I should sort that out.

Or maybe I should set myself some tasks or something, fuck knows. Since I'm single and writing a blog maybe I should treat myself as a Gonzo journalist, immerse myself in something out of the ordinary in the spirit of elucidation. Some kind of Dice Man scenario where I abdicate responsibility for my actions.

In fact what would be a lot more interesting - Aside from "Fuck off", if any of you reading could suggest things for me to do, to try, please do. I'd rather an email so I can reply or clarify, but then if you do want to comment maybe that will inspire someone else with an idea too. I can see I'm setting myself up for a fall here, but fuck it - I'd rather interesting than not.

Or maybe I should just go to sleep, I'm tired.

Good night all xx

To you (you know who you are)

"What a difference a day makes." "Time is the greatest healer." "Water under the bridge."

The human capacity to heal and adapt to circumstances is an impressive evolutionary trait that has put us in place at the top of the food chain. For now at least.

At the start of the year I was miserable. I'd just got back from three weeks in S. America which was long enough to allow me to really start thinking and living as a person again, to tune out of the repetitious rat race and inconsequential matters that we needlessly preoccupy ourselves with. Meeting inspiring people, seeing different ways of life, taking in breathtaking scenery and as I was traveling by myself, I could go, do, see and stay wherever I wanted.

Then I came back to a cold, wet, desk bound grey London; added to which I was shackled to an oppressively broken heart. It fucking blew.

Fast forward three months and I'm just about back to being me again. K takes up less and less of my thoughts, and though I'm still affected by her, it's not something that fucks me up like before. I just hope my capacity to trust, to let my defences down and to let my heart out of my hands again isn't overly affected.

I'm very grateful to all of you who have taken an interest in this little document of one unremarkable man's life.

Those of you who read alone, those of you who have shared it with another, those of you who have contacted me either in the comments or via email, I really appreciate and for want of a better word, 'value' whatever connection my words have fostered between our minds, minds that will in all likelihood never meet in the real world. Even those who don't like what I maybe stand for in my lifestyle choices, I respect your right to your own viewpoint - I just hope to never be misinterpreted in the unedited actions I describe.

I feel a little uninspired at the moment though, from a dating point of view and possibly as a result a writing one too. I've not really been making any effort to date anyone.

Right now there's no one on the scene who excites me, there's no one I'm speaking to who I have banter flowing back and forth with. I miss having that connection with someone, I miss having someone to give my attention to. I passed not being able to enjoy sex with another person without feeling a little hollow a while ago since my first date of the year, but the pursuit of sex for the hell of it doesn't excite me as much as it once did. I've turned down/postponed repeat sex with people I'd never have done before. For want of a better description, maybe I'm.....'growing up'? Or maybe in reality it's just that my standards and expectations have risen and I want for more.

This is not to say that these are still not 'important' to me, or that the requited attention in the chase of pursuing and charming a girl who is seemingly way out of my league isn't something that lifts my day either. But I'd like to meet someone who is mentally compatible as well as sexually again. I miss sharing myself with someone.

I think I may sign up to a dating site again, if nothing else it'll give you guys something to read...

Kisses/manly slaps on the back (delete as appropriate) to you xx

Hangover Horn

I'm sat bored at work - facebook has been refreshed numerous times in the past ten minutes with no new messages, so I'll have a little ramble here...

Today I am savagely hungover. I went to a VICE party last night (which will tell some of you what sort of a night it was I'm sure) I got to bed by about 2am though so not too bad, but I was mainlining gin and vodka from the free bar like it was going out of fashion.

VICE were throwing a party for Lacoste so it was a particularly attractive crowd. I go to less of these sort of parties than I used to, but when I do I keep on bumping into Jameela Jamil off the telly. We don't know each other at all, but we now act like we kind of do. More than a nod of acknowledgement, but not familiar enough to kiss on the cheek, we greet each other with just a "Hey, how you doing?". I first met her at another fashion party in Dalston Superstore, I don't watch TV much and never T4 so at the time I she was just a random girl at a party. I was stood at the bar trying to get served and noticed I was standing next to a really hot girl. I rarely start chatting up a girl at a bar, but I initiated conversation with her. I think it was probably refreshing for her that I had absolutely no idea who she was and talked to her on that level. Someone like her probably either gets mindless attention from people who want to say hi simply because she's famous, or a lot of people respectfully paying her no attention beyond staring for too long. We talked for about 5-10 minutes about nothing in particular and then pleasantries whenever we saw each other for the rest of the night.

I find it amusing how we've somehow got into this social dance now. Total strangers, and me not making any more moves to talk because I don't want to be another guy who feels that just because she's on TV I should intrude on her night. But then maybe I should. Thinking about it she's probably paid to make an appearance, she doesn't seem to be with friends when I do see her. You often hear how guys don't approach really good looking/famous women. Maybe I should be that guy!

Anyway, I have no dates this weekend which is a shame as I am particularly horny at the moment, with my hangover hangover dousing the flames of arousal. I came last night, and again this morning when I woke up. What I'd give for a slow oily handjob right now.

Actually I'll be available to interview any applicants all weekend, please send a covering letter together with a picture and your sexual CV if you're interested in the position. I admit I don't pay well but there are numerous perks that come with the role. Especially if you take pride in your work.

Yours unremarkably,

x

Winos

So I met up with Y on Thursday night. Instead of her coming over East or meeting in the middle, I offered for us to meet local to her. She chose a pub which as it turned out was in the same area as K's family home. Walking the streets from tube to pub, I couldn't help but be affected by the familiar surroundings and subsequent associations that they had.

My earphones are pretty much an omnipresent augmentation to my body whenever I walk or take a journey, my world turned purely visual, a custom soundtrack blocks out all ambient noise and conversation. So I switch tunes to something more upbeat and let myself get taken away by the music. Now swaggering down the street to the pub my pace quickens, weaving through crowded pavements, head bobbing, the faceless commuters and my negative thoughts are left behind.

I push through heavy double doors, shiny with varnish and brass fittings walking into a gastropub. It's well furnished and characterful. In the centre is a large circular old wooden bar. I find a break in the groups and couples sitting and leaning round the bar, next to a pretty girl by herself. I wonder if maybe she's here to meet a date too. I order a Guinness for me and a Shiraz for Y. The girl behind the bar comments on the magazine I have with me, about how her brother was in one of the regular sections. We talk as she sorts out the drinks, I make some sort of wisecrack and we both laugh. It's at this point that Y walks up, smiling and apologising it's so much further form the tube than she thought. We kiss on the cheek and exchange pleasantries. Collecting my change we go find a seat.

Y takes her jacket off to reveal she's wearing tights with soft brown leather knee high boots and a tight leopard print dress. I'll be honest, the dress wasn't the best of looks, but the way she was poured into it took away any sartorial criticism I may have had. I wasn't sure what was going to happen tonight, she's not been easy to read, but the dress went some way towards answering these questions - she had not dressed down. We caught up and everything was pleasant. We were only meeting here for a drink, Y had a wine and cheese tasting voucher she bought off of Groupon which was at a place around the corner. Wine and cheese: two of my favourite things, so I was totally up for this.

We got to the place, and sat ourselves down on a sofa at the back. We were looked after by one of the sommeliers, a scandinavian looking girl who told us we were to choose 12 wines from a list of about 30. I'd done this once before so I took the lead, picking out a couple of sparklings to start with then a 40/60% split between white and reds.

Drinking games exist to give a reason for you all to drink quickly and consistently for a period of time. Wine tasting is basically a cultured way to achieve the same end. We had some pretty good wines, and the glasses were a lot fuller than I'd normally expect - with four wines still to come we both felt pretty well on the way. I remember us laughing more this time, the wine no doubt helping this along. Soon we were kissing on the sofa, this time with tongues and more sensuality. The place was emptying out so we left, tipping the sommelier and thanking them all.

As we walked away arm in arm I still wasn't sure where the night was headed. We walked talking about another drink or maybe it was getting too late with places closing. Coming to a junction it was a right to the tube station or left to hers. I made some comment about how I'd better get a move on to get home,

"You're kidding??"

"Of course I am! Come on let's go"

She'd brought up the fact that the tube was to the right so I took that as a hint that our night was soon to come to an end. I wasn't joking at all...

We got back to her place, cracked open another bottle of red and she put on Friday Night Dinner which we'd mentioned earlier in the night. Pulling out the sofa bed we cuddled up, drinking, laughing and soon we were kissing too. Turns out Y was a big fan of leopard print: because yep, she had on matching bra and panties too - this did not go unremarked by myself. Naked, all of the running and gym talk by Y made sense. Her body was taut, her breasts a C cup and she had some of the best legs I've had the pleasure to have been between recently. Yay for exercising.

Prior to this, I did have concerns that Y could turn out to be another P in the making and so far nothing other than a few comments in texts led me to believe otherwise. But I needn't have worried.

Because Y fucking loved it.

She embraced foreplay with a real hunger and no small amount of skill. Even though we were both by now really very drunk (and with no bumps to sharpen the mind), we both gave a pretty good account of ourselves. Y liked to rake her hands and nails over my torso and thighs, I'm quite muscular and she'd said that she really gets turned on by this - she'd be kneeling on the floor between my legs as I was laid back. Her hands would be running up and down my arms, across my chest, lingering on my stomach before raking her nails over my thighs making me tense up. All the while she'd be flicking her tongue over my cock. She knew what she was doing.

I'd like to fuck Y when we're both a little more sober, drunken sex always ends up dirtier, but ironically less memorable too due to the booze. Things which stick for no particular reason are:

- She liked me to sit up when she sat on my cock. I had this with a girl I was seeing for a few months too. I'm not sure whether this is purely a clitoral stimulation thing (probably not otherwise surely more girls would ask me this too - maybe a female reader could offer their opinion?) or whether it's a visual thing.

- At one point I had her bent over in front of me on her knees, spreading her cheeks as I spat cold water over her ass and pussy before spanking her and unceremoniously returning my cock to it's willing place as my thumb sunk into her ass.

- She was very vocal about enjoying herself. Her neighbour actually rang the doorbell to ask us to keep the noise down.

- We woke up to banging headaches and dry mouths for both of us, and my morning glory sticking into her ass for her. As we spooned I started to slowly move my dick back and forth over her pussy lips, probably grazing her clit too. Either way it had her rummaging for the condoms in her drawer again and we got into some very athletic positions with her on top, me lifting and twisting her about with Y flexibly obliging. As she came that morning, she was not quiet. Aside from enjoying the feeling of her vaginal walls spasming around me, it amused me that I was so British that in the back of my mind I couldn't help but feel awkward that we'd be annoying her neighbours again. Not enough to not milk out as much noise as I could, but still.

I know I'm not being very visual or overly descriptive about this all, it's partially due to a drunken hazy memory - I don't wish to fill in the gaps with fantasy - but also a little down to the fact though it was good, for some reason it didn't blow my mind. I'm at a loss to reason with myself why, but it is what it is. I've not replayed this in my head when wanking since. Well, not yet anyway.

I have no dates lined up this week, and I'm not convinced my vague plans to meet up with Tassles this weekend will come to fruition. So I think I'm going to revisit an earlier encounter at some point.

Enjoy the sunshine x

10

As I've said before and as I'll say again, I'm constantly surprised and eternally grateful when I manage to endear myself to a beautiful girl. Endear myself enough that they want to sleep with me. I am not that good looking to have garnered the interest I have, and I'm certainly not good looking enough to entertain the idea of coitally engaging with a girl like Georgia.

I have been talking to a girl who lives up North for well over a year now. She is ridiculously good looking. I mean like, she is 'go-out-with-footballer-or-movie-star' hot. And she's also cool. She fucking surfs in waters that border the North Sea ffs. I won't go into the details now of how we've talked and whatever else because all of that is of no import when faced with the latest development of our interactions.

We fucked tonight.

And she was pretty fucking dirty too.

Now granted, this fucking occurred not in person but via Whats App, however said development was about as unexpected and as exciting to me as when I first kissed Heidi. You see Georgia is a 10. Not a 9 out of 10. She is a 10. I'd post a picture or say what she's done modelling wise but this would be telling you who she is and I'm not about to do that with anyone who features in this blog (I thought about outing 'K' when I was drunk a few times but that's just a petty vindictive dickheads move).

As you know, I can form sentences, and I can deal with weaving some sexual content in there too, so when we started sexting (I don't like using this word), I felt on home ground and she enjoyed what I had to say. It turns out that Georgia was as forthcoming as I was when it came to describing what we'd like to do with each other. She said some stuff which really chimed with me too. She sent me a picture of her playing with herself and generally didn't ruin my night with what went on.

Now in my head I'm thinking:

- I'm some guy she's got on with, she's a model, it's rare someone treats her as a person with no sexual advances straight away, takes the piss out of her, talks to her properly. I'm in London, so I'm a harmless fantasy that will never get realised so why not embrace it.

- Maybe she is genuinely interested - if so I need to get fucking De Bono on her ass. I need to approach this one and play every move like Kasparov at the board against Deep Blue. If I rush in, I may lose any allure or mystique I have. But if I play it too cool then I may miss out on the moment.

This is nice. I like this a lot.

I've been dating, somewhat half heartedly. Unless I'm straight into a girl, I kind of feel what is the point? I had something which though flawed by the end, was a taste of what I want - real naked compatibility. So having a bit of a chase, a bit of excitement and someone to occupy my mind with I'm very much into.

The likelihood that we actually end up meeting up is probably pretty slim, but I'm going to make damn sure that I do all I can to make sure this post here is an opening salvo rather than a damp fuse that fizzles out...