So, it's Valentines day today and a question that not a call girl asked me "Have you ever used writing as a means of seduction?" got me thinking. Initially I thought no I hadn't, maybe the word 'seduce' made me think in too formal a way, it made me think of 'wooing' and 'love letters', archaic notions from a more cultured age.
The love letter. Along with Cupid, it's the most celebrated byword for love in popular culture. And it's also one that most would agree is slowly dying too.
(Another one of these is the lost art of the mixtape, hardly anyone makes them anymore - which is crazy. Picking out the right balance of amazing new music - and for new read 'unheard', not whatever Pitchfork has tipped to be big news - with which to woo your intendeds ears is a really intimate and meaningful gesture. Tunes with lyrics which say for you what you're too afraid to and all tracklisted so they flow perfectly by theme, genre, tone - all in the pursuit of making their heart melt is an under valued pursuit I think)
It's undeniable that the physical medium of the love letter is of course dying out, but I think that its spirit is actually flourishing. Whilst the love letter is being held under and drowned beneath a sea of digital messages, it's this very sea which nourishes it's evolution and continuation. A bit like Obi-Wan (Yes, I realise I just lost half of any female audience there with a nerdy Star Wars reference, but hey).
I've touched before on how I think online dating is a good thing in that you get to actually converse on quite a meaningful level, it's not like in a bar where it's just shallow posturing. So going back to not a call girl's question of have I ever seduced anyone with my writing, I realise that yes: I've pretty much exclusively 'seduced' people with my writing.
And I don't think this is special to me at all. We all do. Be it texts, facebook, email or twitter: today we have more means of communication and therefore 'seduction' available to us than ever before. More opportunities to interact with the mind of another, each offering their own narrative tone: emails to say deeper things with eloquence, texts just to let them know you're thinking of them or for gruffly worded messages that lets them know exactly what you want to do to them, or pictures sent that say more than words can.
On a simple level, sure - I've had it with girls where I've been flirty, leading to pictures, cyber sex on instant chat etc. which has all laid the way to us meeting up and to us becoming fuck buddies for a little while maybe.
But the last couple of girls I've had anything serious with, I've enjoyed chasing and getting to know them by a written correspondence - a campaign of intellectual muscle flexing and fun. You know the feeling, you send a message, and you sit waiting. Wondering if she'll find your joke funny, whether she'll pick up on your subtle reference to a film or something obscure, if she'll answer your question with something that teaches you something, surprises you. I love that journey of discovery with someone so much. That red notification pops up on facebook, you click and it all gets resolved, resetting the interaction and inviting another opportunity to connect.
So whilst the love letter may be dying out, I think a long drawn out campaign of love letters is becoming the norm. Rather than a few grand standing gestures - a stoic over the top soliloquy, we're more likely to win someone over with a thousand kisses.
The girl I was seeing before K was initially at least, not too interested in me I don't think. But then after weeks of messages, banter, insightful conversations and everything else, she was. We met, got on like a house on fire (as we had already) and went out for a few months. Although K was into me from when we started talking, it was a similar thing - in fact K said she was almost scared to meet me because the person she felt she had got to know over messages was so good she was worried I'd not be able to live up to him in real life. I think at the end of it all that was the problem.
Maybe the pen is mightier than the sword...
Monday, 14 February 2011
Sunday, 13 February 2011
Mirror, Signal, Maneuver.
As we set off on the road we were in high spirits. Hungover, sun-kissed, relaxed and still wet from the amazing pool we'd just spent the last 4 hours laughing and fucking about in with friends. We had about 4 hours on the road ahead of us, but with good music, company and the sun high in a cloudless sky it was a journey I was looking forward to.
We were sat talking, me driving in swimming shorts and t-shirt, Blondie in bikini bottoms and a strappy top. Her feet were on the dashboard with her knees raised up and I'm sure every now and then her hand would dip down between her legs although maybe that was wishful thinking on my part.
Now I can't remember exactly what happened, I think I must have jokingly suggested it earlier, but after about 20 minutes she kisses me on the cheek, hops into the back and starts ordering me like I'm her driver. How very amusing. As we talk I'm looking at her in the rearview mirror, it's actually turning me on looking at her green-blue eyes and full lips, just a postbox of her face - maybe it's because subconsciously it feels like I'm being a voyeur and that I can't see what else is going on behind me.
Every now and then she taps me with her foot in the back of my head, she's got both her feet up on top of the front seats. After a few taps I turn around to give her a mock telling off, and I see that she's rubbing herself through her bikini bottoms. She has mastered the 'slutty, sexy, coy cheeky smile' look and it never fails to turn me on when she flashes it my way. I turn back to pay attention to the road ahead of me and whenever I look in the mirror (a lot) she fixes me with this look. I glance round again and she's pulled her bikini to one side as her fingers play with her clit. I reach back with my right hand and start to rub up and down her thigh, edging closer to her pussy. When I touch her I find that she's sopping wet and my cock gets painfully hard. It's almost like being tied up, I can't divert too much attention to the happenings of the back seat because I'm driving, but it's all I'm thinking about.
As I start to awkwardly finger her (try it some time, unless you're this guy the angles are tough) she moves onto and starts to fuck my fingers. As I look in the mirror her eyes are closed as she bites her bottom lip.
We're on a relatively straight road and luckily there aren't too many cars around so it's not too hard to drive, but we hit a series of junctions and I have to fully concentrate on driving again. Blondie hops back into the front seat to change the music, then start to rub the inside of my thigh.
"You like me being a slut for you don't you?"
Her hand has now moved up and is massaging my balls.
"I've made your cock hard haven't I?"
She starts to trace the outline of my by now throbbing cock.
"I love it when you're hard for me Colin."
Colin isn't my name at all. Haha, imagine if it was though.
Her hand is now firmly rubbing me through my shorts, her fingers gently clawing around the head of my dick, teasing me so I can feel pre cum soaking the material from her ministrations. She pulls the waistband of my shorts open, scoops me out and licking her hand she begins to slowly give me a handjob, twisting her hand up and down my cock as she goes.
I almost lose my mind to this it's so good. Blondie has given me some of the best handjobs and head I've ever had - and it's rarer that it should be that a girl knows exactly what she's doing as well as enjoys it. But then it just makes it all the better once you do end up lucky enough to be in their hands. As I type, I'm sat here rock hard right now wishing she could be doing just what I'm writing about now. In fact I've just texted her the same.
Back in the car and we're now on a motorway which is handy because after 5 minutes of this I'm breathing so heavily I'm getting a little light headed and not fully concentrating. She's playing with herself with her right hand as she wanks me with her left, then swapping to her right hand slick with her wet pussy she starts stroking my cock harder. It's so hot feeling her pussy juice on my cock as she does this and she fucking knows it. Her head now descends into my lap and her mouth engulfs the tip of my dick as her hand twists rhythmically up and down the shaft, I can feel her tongue swirl round me before she starts to fuck me with her mouth taking more and more of me in until I'm hitting the back of her throat. My hand now grabs her hair and I start to fuck her mouth,
"You fucking love that don't you you slut? You're such a fucking whore sucking my cock like this, anyone driving past can see what you're doing - and you love it don't you?"
She moans her assent loudly and the vibrations feel amazing. She forces my cock really far into her throat and she gags, coughing and spluttering onto my cock. The excess saliva dribbles down my shaft and onto my balls. As she catches her breath she spits on her hands and roughly rubs up and down my cock, gripping firmly and twisting round the tip so I can't stand it, it's too fucking good.
I've been keeping an eye out for any turnings for the past 5 minutes and I spot one up ahead. I turn off and we're on a hedge lined rural road. We round a corner and there's an opening which we drive past. I brake, reverse and turn in. It's a small disused carpark which used to service some sort of factory/warehouse which is now derelict.
The windows are like dirty rows of broken teeth, the roof has holes in it and there is equipment on the ground, weeds grow around them. I love architectural degradation, where time erodes and nature reclaims so it sticks in my memory as an amazing place where if I was by myself I'd be clambering around taking pictures. As it was it was it was an amazing setting for my plans.
I drive to the end and park the car so it's passenger side on if anyone were to drive in. I get out, leave the door open and tell Blondie to get in my seat with her legs out of the car. The breeze rustles the trees around us, birds and crickets chatter away; aside from the odd car passing by in the distance it is perfectly still.
The sun is still beating down hard, I drop my shorts, take my top off and stand naked there in front of her. She resists the obvious action here (to laugh, point and tell me how fucking stupid I look) and is luckily turned on enough by it all to choose the second course of action - to pull me towards her by my cock and take me in her mouth again. She's a good mate is Blondie. After a minute or two of this I pull my cock away from her and crouch down, kissing her hard with my fingers pushing on her clit. No rubbing, no circling, just firm constant pressure which I then start to move from side to side, her clit being moved around my fingers. She starts to moan and I pull back.
"Put your hands behind you and lean back"
I roughly pull the straps of her top down to reveal her perky tits, topped by hard nipples. I pull her by her legs so she's leant back further and kiss her hungrily, both my hands cupping her tits, kneading them then rolling her nipples between my fingers as I kiss my way down her stomach. My elbows push her legs wider and with my hands holding her thighs I dip my tongue into her pussy. I'm so turned on that there's no subtlety employed, no gentle teasing, I'm just straight into her clit licking her hard and fast. My hands are now under her knees and holding her legs tightly so she can't move, raising them up so I can tongue her ass too, my tongue licking wetly from ass to clit and back again. I let go of her legs and my fingers take over where once my tongue had been. She's so wet that I slip two fingers into her straight away. Her face is flushed and I'm staring into her eyes with a burning carnal intensity. Holding her eyes I dip my head and spit perfectly onto her clit which elicits a moan. My fingers start to fuck her cunt building up a steady rhythm, but not pushing in as far as I can go, only about three quarters of the way. When I return my tongue to her clit I also push my fingers in as deep as I can, and curling them towards me I press on her g-spot hard as I know she likes.
Blondie is a screamer, and in this situation she's not holding back. She has her feet up up on the seat so her pussy is perfectly exposed for me to fuck her with my fingers. My tongue is starting to tire I'm licking so fast now, my arm pistoning back and forth as I fuck her. She starts to breathlessly tell me she's going to cum so with my other hand I start tweaking her nipple hard and the pain sends her over the edge as she starts to cum - really hard, screaming and no doubt troubling some nice old French grandmothers in the village over the hill. I pull my fingers from her and keeping her legs apart I blow on her sensitive clit, rewarded with spasms from her flushed body as she moans and catches her breath. I really love seeing Blondie cum, she doesn't fuck around and totally gives in to her pleasure.
I stand up and my cock is still rock hard and proudly standing there demanding reciprocation. She happily sits up and obliges me. I move towards her and put my hands on the roof of the car, my chest resting against the frame so all I can see is the derelict surroundings, rustling trees and sky, the disassociation with what is going on below seems to intensify the feelings and I'm getting close to cumming really quickly. I pull back and start to stroke myself hard and fast, Blondie leans forward, opens her mouth, sticks out her looong tongue (She's bi, so it's also a tongue I hope to one day see buried in another lucky girls pussy whilst I watch my cock disappear into her mouth) and fixes me with her beautiful eyes imploring me to cum for her. Which I do. Heavily. Spraying thick cables of my hot cum onto her tongue, across her face and tits. As she licks her lips free of the cum surrounding them she lasciviously rubs my cum into her tits and moves forwards to suck my now softening cock clean.
Whilst I put my shorts back on, she lights two cigarettes and hands me one. We sit in our seats basking in the post coital glow and the warm French afternoon sun.
I miss France. Especially on a cold London night.
Valentines tomorrow, so I'll leave with the wise words of Socrates:
"Marry in any case: if you find a good spouse, you will be happy, if a bad one, you will learn to be philosophical"
Happy forced displays of affection day everyone!
We were sat talking, me driving in swimming shorts and t-shirt, Blondie in bikini bottoms and a strappy top. Her feet were on the dashboard with her knees raised up and I'm sure every now and then her hand would dip down between her legs although maybe that was wishful thinking on my part.
Now I can't remember exactly what happened, I think I must have jokingly suggested it earlier, but after about 20 minutes she kisses me on the cheek, hops into the back and starts ordering me like I'm her driver. How very amusing. As we talk I'm looking at her in the rearview mirror, it's actually turning me on looking at her green-blue eyes and full lips, just a postbox of her face - maybe it's because subconsciously it feels like I'm being a voyeur and that I can't see what else is going on behind me.
Every now and then she taps me with her foot in the back of my head, she's got both her feet up on top of the front seats. After a few taps I turn around to give her a mock telling off, and I see that she's rubbing herself through her bikini bottoms. She has mastered the 'slutty, sexy, coy cheeky smile' look and it never fails to turn me on when she flashes it my way. I turn back to pay attention to the road ahead of me and whenever I look in the mirror (a lot) she fixes me with this look. I glance round again and she's pulled her bikini to one side as her fingers play with her clit. I reach back with my right hand and start to rub up and down her thigh, edging closer to her pussy. When I touch her I find that she's sopping wet and my cock gets painfully hard. It's almost like being tied up, I can't divert too much attention to the happenings of the back seat because I'm driving, but it's all I'm thinking about.
As I start to awkwardly finger her (try it some time, unless you're this guy the angles are tough) she moves onto and starts to fuck my fingers. As I look in the mirror her eyes are closed as she bites her bottom lip.
We're on a relatively straight road and luckily there aren't too many cars around so it's not too hard to drive, but we hit a series of junctions and I have to fully concentrate on driving again. Blondie hops back into the front seat to change the music, then start to rub the inside of my thigh.
"You like me being a slut for you don't you?"
Her hand has now moved up and is massaging my balls.
"I've made your cock hard haven't I?"
She starts to trace the outline of my by now throbbing cock.
"I love it when you're hard for me Colin."
Colin isn't my name at all. Haha, imagine if it was though.
Her hand is now firmly rubbing me through my shorts, her fingers gently clawing around the head of my dick, teasing me so I can feel pre cum soaking the material from her ministrations. She pulls the waistband of my shorts open, scoops me out and licking her hand she begins to slowly give me a handjob, twisting her hand up and down my cock as she goes.
I almost lose my mind to this it's so good. Blondie has given me some of the best handjobs and head I've ever had - and it's rarer that it should be that a girl knows exactly what she's doing as well as enjoys it. But then it just makes it all the better once you do end up lucky enough to be in their hands. As I type, I'm sat here rock hard right now wishing she could be doing just what I'm writing about now. In fact I've just texted her the same.
Back in the car and we're now on a motorway which is handy because after 5 minutes of this I'm breathing so heavily I'm getting a little light headed and not fully concentrating. She's playing with herself with her right hand as she wanks me with her left, then swapping to her right hand slick with her wet pussy she starts stroking my cock harder. It's so hot feeling her pussy juice on my cock as she does this and she fucking knows it. Her head now descends into my lap and her mouth engulfs the tip of my dick as her hand twists rhythmically up and down the shaft, I can feel her tongue swirl round me before she starts to fuck me with her mouth taking more and more of me in until I'm hitting the back of her throat. My hand now grabs her hair and I start to fuck her mouth,
"You fucking love that don't you you slut? You're such a fucking whore sucking my cock like this, anyone driving past can see what you're doing - and you love it don't you?"
She moans her assent loudly and the vibrations feel amazing. She forces my cock really far into her throat and she gags, coughing and spluttering onto my cock. The excess saliva dribbles down my shaft and onto my balls. As she catches her breath she spits on her hands and roughly rubs up and down my cock, gripping firmly and twisting round the tip so I can't stand it, it's too fucking good.
I've been keeping an eye out for any turnings for the past 5 minutes and I spot one up ahead. I turn off and we're on a hedge lined rural road. We round a corner and there's an opening which we drive past. I brake, reverse and turn in. It's a small disused carpark which used to service some sort of factory/warehouse which is now derelict.
The windows are like dirty rows of broken teeth, the roof has holes in it and there is equipment on the ground, weeds grow around them. I love architectural degradation, where time erodes and nature reclaims so it sticks in my memory as an amazing place where if I was by myself I'd be clambering around taking pictures. As it was it was it was an amazing setting for my plans.
I drive to the end and park the car so it's passenger side on if anyone were to drive in. I get out, leave the door open and tell Blondie to get in my seat with her legs out of the car. The breeze rustles the trees around us, birds and crickets chatter away; aside from the odd car passing by in the distance it is perfectly still.
The sun is still beating down hard, I drop my shorts, take my top off and stand naked there in front of her. She resists the obvious action here (to laugh, point and tell me how fucking stupid I look) and is luckily turned on enough by it all to choose the second course of action - to pull me towards her by my cock and take me in her mouth again. She's a good mate is Blondie. After a minute or two of this I pull my cock away from her and crouch down, kissing her hard with my fingers pushing on her clit. No rubbing, no circling, just firm constant pressure which I then start to move from side to side, her clit being moved around my fingers. She starts to moan and I pull back.
"Put your hands behind you and lean back"
I roughly pull the straps of her top down to reveal her perky tits, topped by hard nipples. I pull her by her legs so she's leant back further and kiss her hungrily, both my hands cupping her tits, kneading them then rolling her nipples between my fingers as I kiss my way down her stomach. My elbows push her legs wider and with my hands holding her thighs I dip my tongue into her pussy. I'm so turned on that there's no subtlety employed, no gentle teasing, I'm just straight into her clit licking her hard and fast. My hands are now under her knees and holding her legs tightly so she can't move, raising them up so I can tongue her ass too, my tongue licking wetly from ass to clit and back again. I let go of her legs and my fingers take over where once my tongue had been. She's so wet that I slip two fingers into her straight away. Her face is flushed and I'm staring into her eyes with a burning carnal intensity. Holding her eyes I dip my head and spit perfectly onto her clit which elicits a moan. My fingers start to fuck her cunt building up a steady rhythm, but not pushing in as far as I can go, only about three quarters of the way. When I return my tongue to her clit I also push my fingers in as deep as I can, and curling them towards me I press on her g-spot hard as I know she likes.
Blondie is a screamer, and in this situation she's not holding back. She has her feet up up on the seat so her pussy is perfectly exposed for me to fuck her with my fingers. My tongue is starting to tire I'm licking so fast now, my arm pistoning back and forth as I fuck her. She starts to breathlessly tell me she's going to cum so with my other hand I start tweaking her nipple hard and the pain sends her over the edge as she starts to cum - really hard, screaming and no doubt troubling some nice old French grandmothers in the village over the hill. I pull my fingers from her and keeping her legs apart I blow on her sensitive clit, rewarded with spasms from her flushed body as she moans and catches her breath. I really love seeing Blondie cum, she doesn't fuck around and totally gives in to her pleasure.
I stand up and my cock is still rock hard and proudly standing there demanding reciprocation. She happily sits up and obliges me. I move towards her and put my hands on the roof of the car, my chest resting against the frame so all I can see is the derelict surroundings, rustling trees and sky, the disassociation with what is going on below seems to intensify the feelings and I'm getting close to cumming really quickly. I pull back and start to stroke myself hard and fast, Blondie leans forward, opens her mouth, sticks out her looong tongue (She's bi, so it's also a tongue I hope to one day see buried in another lucky girls pussy whilst I watch my cock disappear into her mouth) and fixes me with her beautiful eyes imploring me to cum for her. Which I do. Heavily. Spraying thick cables of my hot cum onto her tongue, across her face and tits. As she licks her lips free of the cum surrounding them she lasciviously rubs my cum into her tits and moves forwards to suck my now softening cock clean.
Whilst I put my shorts back on, she lights two cigarettes and hands me one. We sit in our seats basking in the post coital glow and the warm French afternoon sun.
I miss France. Especially on a cold London night.
Valentines tomorrow, so I'll leave with the wise words of Socrates:
"Marry in any case: if you find a good spouse, you will be happy, if a bad one, you will learn to be philosophical"
Happy forced displays of affection day everyone!
Saturday, 12 February 2011
What are friends for?
I've known Blondie for years now. She's a real little bombshell. She doesn't walk down the street: she insinuates her way through the crowd oozing sex. When I walk along with her it always amuses me the looks she gets from guys; and builders? Forget about it...
She looks kinda like a cross between Scarlett Johansen and Madonna (she'll love me for saying that). Petite, size 8 with curves — quite simply she has a body that's made for sex.
She's a good mate, and as I say I've known her for years. We've messed around infrequently and about 70% of these dalliances have happened after 4am when we're both absolutely off our faces or as stolen risky moments, like her blowing me in a toilet whilst all our friends are outside banging to get in whilst we pretend we're just doing bumps. Only recently have we started to mess around when sober and it's been pretty fucking amazing.
She's had a couple of boyfriends for most of the time we've known each other, so that's stopped us getting up to no good in the main, but it didn't stop us flirting. Or whilst at work talking on instant chat all sorts of filth and dirty scenarios when we're drunk or hungover. You see she's very much like me in mindset. She's basically a guy in a girls very fuckable body.
Things stepped up last year when we were away with a bunch of friends for about five days in the French sun. To save on costs Blondie and I ended up agreeing to share a room. So we flew together, hired a car and headed off on a road trip through the French countryside to the first hotel. The first night we all went out for a meal - one of those meals where the food, whilst really good, seems to be more just an accompaniment to all the wine and champagne that's flowing.
The restaurant is closing and so we all roll back to the hotel bar where it's just our group and the barmen. We are by the point all very drunk so when someones suggests the idea of a late night swim, having a prior history of losing clothing when drunk, I think it's a genius idea.
Only myself, Blondie and an aussie guy we'd just met still felt it was a good idea once the remark gave birth to action. When the three of us venture out, we're greeted by a cloudy night and a dark deserted pool. It's framed on three sides by hotel rooms but it's late, so no lights are on. An exploratory hand in the water reveals that the pool isn't heated, and it is coooold. However Blondie typically steps up to the challenge, pulls her dress up over her head and shows the two big macho guys how to not fuck around by diving straight in. She surfaces to us laughing and replies with a loud "FUCK ME IT'S COLD!"
So me and aussie strip down to our underwear and plunge into the water. And is IS cold. After a few minutes and aussie's constitution which is seemingly built for warmer climes, makes him have to get out and head back to his room to get warm. Which just leaves me a Blondie.
By now I'm used to the water, and since I'm swimming about it's not so bad, I swim down to the shallow end and lean back against the pool wall. Right on cue the clouds part and a half moon throws soft light down on us. The cold black water now becomes an undulating shattered mirror. I remember this because as Blondie walked in the shallows towards me she left a spreading silver 'V' trailing behind her like a mercury wedding train attached to her hips. The water had made her nipples rock hard, her tits perky, taut and high. We were both smiling, laughing, drunk and euphoric from the cold water and situation, so when we first hug, it's exactly that, just a hug. But as soon as our warm wet bodies touch, it instantly becomes more. Her nipples press into my chest and my dick (probably pretty unimpressive from the cold) is up against her stomach, we both look each other deep in the eyes and kiss with really soft open lips, which carry on into slow tongues, hands sliding up and down on wet flesh, mine pulling her by her ass into me closer - only she pulls away and says we should get back to the bar.
Back in the bar we're given heavy duty spirits in heavy bottomed glasses, cigarettes, smiles and assorted gender based compliments/insults that you can probably imagine.
That night history repeated itself with raucous (there was biting, spitting and slapping), drunken (memories are shady) messing around.
The thing with us is that even though we flirt just about all the time, it ebbs and flows, building to a crescendo where we'll maybe end up doing something, but even then you're never quite sure - and that's the hot thing about it, it's never a foregone conclusion. It's more just that there's a constant threat of sex in the room when we're together. For example we were out at a fashion launch party a week or so ago, we'd been texting some dirty stuff to each other earlier in the day so the scene had been set a little. We're standing side by side at the free bar and it's rammed. So I turn towards her a little and my hand reaches up under her skirt and between her legs, my fingers stroking her plump lips before settling on her clit. We carry on talking (albeit rubbish, the words come out of both our mouths but there's nothing being said) and she grinds against my hand. No one can tell, no one can see, and it's hot. We did nothing else, we went our separate ways at the end of the night and that was that. I like that.
So now you know Blondie. You'll be reading more about her.
There are two things I want to tell you about that happened on this trip, one is a car journey and the other is the happenings within an apartment.
She looks kinda like a cross between Scarlett Johansen and Madonna (she'll love me for saying that). Petite, size 8 with curves — quite simply she has a body that's made for sex.
She's a good mate, and as I say I've known her for years. We've messed around infrequently and about 70% of these dalliances have happened after 4am when we're both absolutely off our faces or as stolen risky moments, like her blowing me in a toilet whilst all our friends are outside banging to get in whilst we pretend we're just doing bumps. Only recently have we started to mess around when sober and it's been pretty fucking amazing.
She's had a couple of boyfriends for most of the time we've known each other, so that's stopped us getting up to no good in the main, but it didn't stop us flirting. Or whilst at work talking on instant chat all sorts of filth and dirty scenarios when we're drunk or hungover. You see she's very much like me in mindset. She's basically a guy in a girls very fuckable body.
Things stepped up last year when we were away with a bunch of friends for about five days in the French sun. To save on costs Blondie and I ended up agreeing to share a room. So we flew together, hired a car and headed off on a road trip through the French countryside to the first hotel. The first night we all went out for a meal - one of those meals where the food, whilst really good, seems to be more just an accompaniment to all the wine and champagne that's flowing.
The restaurant is closing and so we all roll back to the hotel bar where it's just our group and the barmen. We are by the point all very drunk so when someones suggests the idea of a late night swim, having a prior history of losing clothing when drunk, I think it's a genius idea.
Only myself, Blondie and an aussie guy we'd just met still felt it was a good idea once the remark gave birth to action. When the three of us venture out, we're greeted by a cloudy night and a dark deserted pool. It's framed on three sides by hotel rooms but it's late, so no lights are on. An exploratory hand in the water reveals that the pool isn't heated, and it is coooold. However Blondie typically steps up to the challenge, pulls her dress up over her head and shows the two big macho guys how to not fuck around by diving straight in. She surfaces to us laughing and replies with a loud "FUCK ME IT'S COLD!"
So me and aussie strip down to our underwear and plunge into the water. And is IS cold. After a few minutes and aussie's constitution which is seemingly built for warmer climes, makes him have to get out and head back to his room to get warm. Which just leaves me a Blondie.
By now I'm used to the water, and since I'm swimming about it's not so bad, I swim down to the shallow end and lean back against the pool wall. Right on cue the clouds part and a half moon throws soft light down on us. The cold black water now becomes an undulating shattered mirror. I remember this because as Blondie walked in the shallows towards me she left a spreading silver 'V' trailing behind her like a mercury wedding train attached to her hips. The water had made her nipples rock hard, her tits perky, taut and high. We were both smiling, laughing, drunk and euphoric from the cold water and situation, so when we first hug, it's exactly that, just a hug. But as soon as our warm wet bodies touch, it instantly becomes more. Her nipples press into my chest and my dick (probably pretty unimpressive from the cold) is up against her stomach, we both look each other deep in the eyes and kiss with really soft open lips, which carry on into slow tongues, hands sliding up and down on wet flesh, mine pulling her by her ass into me closer - only she pulls away and says we should get back to the bar.
Back in the bar we're given heavy duty spirits in heavy bottomed glasses, cigarettes, smiles and assorted gender based compliments/insults that you can probably imagine.
That night history repeated itself with raucous (there was biting, spitting and slapping), drunken (memories are shady) messing around.
The thing with us is that even though we flirt just about all the time, it ebbs and flows, building to a crescendo where we'll maybe end up doing something, but even then you're never quite sure - and that's the hot thing about it, it's never a foregone conclusion. It's more just that there's a constant threat of sex in the room when we're together. For example we were out at a fashion launch party a week or so ago, we'd been texting some dirty stuff to each other earlier in the day so the scene had been set a little. We're standing side by side at the free bar and it's rammed. So I turn towards her a little and my hand reaches up under her skirt and between her legs, my fingers stroking her plump lips before settling on her clit. We carry on talking (albeit rubbish, the words come out of both our mouths but there's nothing being said) and she grinds against my hand. No one can tell, no one can see, and it's hot. We did nothing else, we went our separate ways at the end of the night and that was that. I like that.
So now you know Blondie. You'll be reading more about her.
There are two things I want to tell you about that happened on this trip, one is a car journey and the other is the happenings within an apartment.
Thursday, 3 February 2011
Photo Booth
I met up with Photo Booth (or 'PB') last night. For those unfamiliar with the workings of a Mac, there's a program called Photo Booth that lets you take pics of yourself with the webcam - PB had taken 6 different poses and used them all on her dating profile. It amused me because these obvs weren't taken by anyone else but herself. She'd clearly sat there for at least 10 minutes snapping away by herself, laughing, touching her mouth, looking cute, looking sultry - until she felt the pics she had were just the right mix of personality and sexiness. However to me these pictures just look retarded.
All I can see is a person sat there by themselves, acting like they're having a really good time. Looking and smiling at the lamp that's just out of shot, laughing at the joke the vase of dried flowers just told them etc.
Anyway. So I messaged her saying "Someone likes photo booth then..." She replied saying she was shocked but amused as no one else had taken such a tactless approach when saying hi. The fact she took it in the way it was meant was good, it meant she didn't take herself too seriously. Plus her profile had a few amusing things on it
I love the way an octopus swims, everything that happens in the wrists and eating strawberries and blueberries, in-fact any berry, i'd like to be a berry
Never wait until tomorrow to hug someone you could hug today, because when you give one, you get one right back your way !!!
She was obviously taking the piss. Only I didn't get to congratulate her on this as her membership had ended. We'd swapped facebook details though so arranged a drink and didn't speak from there on in basically. Which takes us to last night.
I'm not saying I believe in love at first sight, but animal attraction is something else. I've met girls where you just know straight away that you're going to fuck. That feeling is great, you've nothing to go on other than the fact you know you want to, and that there's this chemistry or something between you it's just a matter of seeing if it will be resolved. I had the opposite feeling to this with PB.
I knew I'd made a mistake as soon as she walked in.
She sat down, awkward cheek kisses and when the waiter came over to take out drinks she asked for a mineral water. I thought "Hmm, probably thirsty, she'll get a wine later maybe?" Then the waiter asked if she'd like a bottle?
"Yes please"
Fuck.
Oh dear, this isn't good.
Ok, throw in an ice breaker, let's make some small talk:
"So PB, how's all this online dating stuff working out for you? What made you decide to give it a go"
Her face goes blank and she starts to look around. A frown creeps over her forehead. A nervous laugh. After about 10 seconds (count them, that's a long time of awkwardness), I jump in with,
"I mean why not I guess right?!"
She had nothing to say, she didn't know why, she couldn't think up some random conversational stuff to say here. EVERYONE is able to answer this or at least have an opinion on it, everyone has been able to say something about it. But not PB.
"Um, I don't know why really"
And that was that, she was happy with her response and then just sat there a little.
So then I proceed to have the DRYEST date I've ever had in my life. Literally my entire life. It was just such hard work. She had no spark, nothing. She seemed to take everything I said at face value, no banter, no imagination, no jokes at all. It was at this point I remembered her profile and realised that oh my god, none of it was a joke: She actually did want to be a berry! She really did like to say things about hugs that rhymed! The girl was a fucking moron.
I wanted to leave after one drink but I couldn't do that, that was just too rude. I got another pint and then proceeded to pull teeth for the rest of it. There are numerous ridiculous things that happened but I'm falling asleep just thinking about them. I drained my drink and said,
"Right I think we'll call it a night there then"
I paid for the drinks, made polite conversation as we walked out, kissed her, said it was nice to meet her and then stifled a giggle as I crossed the road, the laugh building in me out of relief to be out of there and incredulity at how bad it was.
My friend later took great joy laughing at me saying I deserved it, that it was about time I had some bad date experiences for a change (she's just had a run of bad dates). It made me realise how damn lucky I've been these past few years.
And I have been lucky. I'm an amiable guy, I like to ask questions, I like to find out about people, what makes them tick, to find out what in life matters to them - I don't go on dates and talk endlessly about myself, quite the opposite - I'm not keen on talking about myself at all. Each and every date I've gone on we've got on, had decent enough conversations, got drunk and invariably kissed. There were two occasions where there was no kissing, one was my choice: the girl looked nothing like her pictures and was 45 minutes late. The other: we had four pints and got on, but she just wasn't into me. So now I could add PB to this list.
However.....that wasn't the end of my night there. Oh no.
It's at this point I'll break off, you all go and make a cup of tea or something and when I come back I'll introduce to you my friend who I've been messing around with on and off (a lot more off than on) for a few years now...
All I can see is a person sat there by themselves, acting like they're having a really good time. Looking and smiling at the lamp that's just out of shot, laughing at the joke the vase of dried flowers just told them etc.
Anyway. So I messaged her saying "Someone likes photo booth then..." She replied saying she was shocked but amused as no one else had taken such a tactless approach when saying hi. The fact she took it in the way it was meant was good, it meant she didn't take herself too seriously. Plus her profile had a few amusing things on it
I love the way an octopus swims, everything that happens in the wrists and eating strawberries and blueberries, in-fact any berry, i'd like to be a berry
Never wait until tomorrow to hug someone you could hug today, because when you give one, you get one right back your way !!!
She was obviously taking the piss. Only I didn't get to congratulate her on this as her membership had ended. We'd swapped facebook details though so arranged a drink and didn't speak from there on in basically. Which takes us to last night.
I'm not saying I believe in love at first sight, but animal attraction is something else. I've met girls where you just know straight away that you're going to fuck. That feeling is great, you've nothing to go on other than the fact you know you want to, and that there's this chemistry or something between you it's just a matter of seeing if it will be resolved. I had the opposite feeling to this with PB.
I knew I'd made a mistake as soon as she walked in.
She sat down, awkward cheek kisses and when the waiter came over to take out drinks she asked for a mineral water. I thought "Hmm, probably thirsty, she'll get a wine later maybe?" Then the waiter asked if she'd like a bottle?
"Yes please"
Fuck.
Oh dear, this isn't good.
Ok, throw in an ice breaker, let's make some small talk:
"So PB, how's all this online dating stuff working out for you? What made you decide to give it a go"
Her face goes blank and she starts to look around. A frown creeps over her forehead. A nervous laugh. After about 10 seconds (count them, that's a long time of awkwardness), I jump in with,
"I mean why not I guess right?!"
She had nothing to say, she didn't know why, she couldn't think up some random conversational stuff to say here. EVERYONE is able to answer this or at least have an opinion on it, everyone has been able to say something about it. But not PB.
"Um, I don't know why really"
And that was that, she was happy with her response and then just sat there a little.
So then I proceed to have the DRYEST date I've ever had in my life. Literally my entire life. It was just such hard work. She had no spark, nothing. She seemed to take everything I said at face value, no banter, no imagination, no jokes at all. It was at this point I remembered her profile and realised that oh my god, none of it was a joke: She actually did want to be a berry! She really did like to say things about hugs that rhymed! The girl was a fucking moron.
I wanted to leave after one drink but I couldn't do that, that was just too rude. I got another pint and then proceeded to pull teeth for the rest of it. There are numerous ridiculous things that happened but I'm falling asleep just thinking about them. I drained my drink and said,
"Right I think we'll call it a night there then"
I paid for the drinks, made polite conversation as we walked out, kissed her, said it was nice to meet her and then stifled a giggle as I crossed the road, the laugh building in me out of relief to be out of there and incredulity at how bad it was.
My friend later took great joy laughing at me saying I deserved it, that it was about time I had some bad date experiences for a change (she's just had a run of bad dates). It made me realise how damn lucky I've been these past few years.
And I have been lucky. I'm an amiable guy, I like to ask questions, I like to find out about people, what makes them tick, to find out what in life matters to them - I don't go on dates and talk endlessly about myself, quite the opposite - I'm not keen on talking about myself at all. Each and every date I've gone on we've got on, had decent enough conversations, got drunk and invariably kissed. There were two occasions where there was no kissing, one was my choice: the girl looked nothing like her pictures and was 45 minutes late. The other: we had four pints and got on, but she just wasn't into me. So now I could add PB to this list.
However.....that wasn't the end of my night there. Oh no.
It's at this point I'll break off, you all go and make a cup of tea or something and when I come back I'll introduce to you my friend who I've been messing around with on and off (a lot more off than on) for a few years now...
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