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