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

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...

Fuck buddy #2

I first met Kylie in Proud Camden - I was helping run a monthly night we had on there, but mainly my job at this stage was to just generally be good vibes. An 'ambassador of fun' as my friend coined.

I was already pretty drunk that night, a good buddy at work was leaving so we'd spent a few hours in the pub. Happily for me I'm a good drunk, either through practice, physiology or mentality I'm not someone who changes personality, becomes belligerent, incoherent or any other unwanted Mr. Hyde type characteristics. I've had people say it took them 5 minutes or so of talking to me to realise that I was actually off my face.

Kylie was with a group of friends who I vaguely knew, she stood out instantly. She was a short girl, maybe 5'2" and cute, had dark blonde shoulder length hair, vivid blue eyes and bright red lipstick on her thick full mouth. She was really pretty. I got introduced and I felt uncomfortable; uncomfortable because I knew I wasn't looking my best. For starters I had a moustache. No it wasn't Movember where every man who lives in Clapham grows a moustache for charity. I had it because I was recently single and I currently didn't give a fuck. It made me look stupid and I found that funny and sure, any attention it got me wouldn't be shied away from. The flip side of course was that as already noted - it was probably not making me look at my most desirable. I also had a big ol' spot just below one end of my 'tache I was really self conscious of as I never get them. So I felt myself kind of wincing away from her as a result.

I was outside smoking, drinking and talking with people I knew and having general banter with those around I did not. I had a free tab that night so got a round of drinks for those with me and as the drinks got drained, one by one people left to go inside until it was just me a Kylie. It's generally a little bit hazy in my mind now, but the fact of the matter is that my tache and spot somehow didn't put her off me because we kissed. Things didn't progress that night, she went off to one house party and I to another.

We started swapping messages on facebook soon after, and I think after a few false starts we arranged to meet up for a drink. Things went well and we came to an unsaid arrangement whereby we'd meet up, have a good chat catching up for a good few hours as friends, drinks and fun vibes, before heading back to mine to fuck. A lot.

Maybe this is stupid to say because it's obvious, but in the same way that I still can't get entirely used to the fact, and am very pleased that good looking women seem to find my personality/looks attractive, I'm also incredibly thankful when it turns out that these good looking girls are sexually liberated too - it's like finding a tenner on the street, buying a scratchcard, pocketing the change but then winning on the scratchcard too (or a much better analogy of your choosing). Kylie loved to fuck, and she was great at what she enjoyed too.

I'm a very oral person, as you've probably gathered - I love giving head - but I also love kissing, I don't think it's a thing to do for the hell of it, a password to be uttered unlocking a greater treasure, it's a fucking hot thing in and of itself. I often wonder when I kiss girls who 'can't kiss' whether it's actually just a subjective thing. I mean just because I find sweetcorn offensive doesn't mean that it actually is, it's just not to my taste. Maybe these people with quick jabby tongues, or those who instantly start trying to lick my tonsils off have all been kissing each other: and loving it. Maybe they find my soft but firm sensual kissing to be unpleasant and I'm a bad kisser to them. But I will say that in my experience those girls who have been good in bed have also been the best kissers. Maybe they're more in touch with their bodies, empathetically knowing how their touch will feel on me and how to enjoy and embrace their own physical pleasure by whatever means too.

Kylie was a good kisser and loved to kiss too. I'd be laid back with her tight cunt wrapped round my cock, my hands would be clamped onto her hips, lifting her up, pushing and pulling her onto me as I fucked her hard from below, her hair would be disheveled sticking to the sweat on her face, heavy C cup breasts would be bouncing up and down as she moaned - then she'd pitch forwards lying on me, arching her back, her ass pushed up giving into being totally taken and pounded by me. Her mouth would latch onto mine frantically swirling her tongue into my mouth. My hands now gripping and slapping her tight ass, kissing her back our mouths locked, moaning into each others kisses - two people sweating, pounding, both lost in the abandonment of pleasure.

She was also the girl who introduced me to the g-spot. I kind of knew there was something going on there, but had never had the chance to practically embrace the workings of it. Kylie unashamedly talked to me and showed me what she liked (which is another turn on, a girl who tells me what she likes - it only makes things better for her, and I get more aroused turning her on. It's a win-win situation)

Fucking a girl with long elegant limbs is great, holding her long shapely legs up and together whilst looking at my cock plunge inside is a beautiful thing. But fucking a more petite girl offers it's own unique set of opportunities. I used to play sport competitively for years and I still exercise a lot — which means I'm able to enjoy some pretty athletic sexual endeavours.

Kylie was kinda submissive, not fully in terms of me actually dominating her - instead her submission manifested itself in a want for me to take control. We were a fair few months into fucking, when one time we went back to mine and I had the place to myself. We'd been kissing in the bar, it was dark and her hand had been stroking me to hardness in amongst everyone else there. In the cab back to mine she told me she was really wet, so I replied saying I wanted her to slip off her underwear and show me. She did as she was told and handed them to me. The sight of that stays with me, it was so arousing watching her hitch up her dress, hook her thumbs in her underwear and take them off there and then on demand for me.

As we walked up the stairs to my flat I made sure she was in front of me, my hand in between her legs, she wasn't lying, she was really wet, my finger slid between her lips to her clit making her buckle slightly. On the landing outside of my door we kissed passionately, both so turned on. I picked her up and with a thud pushed her up against my front door, my erection connecting with her making her gasp. My hands were on her bare ass cheeks, one hand slipping further under and making contact with her wet lips. She frantically undid my belt and trousers and pawed at my cock inside. With one hand holding her up I pushed the denim restrictions down, my cock springing up and hitting her. She grabbed it and as I lifted her up she guided me into her. The lights were on, anyone could have walked up the stairs to see what the noise was but this all had the effect of making it even more of a turn on - there was no subtlety or poise to this moment, it was just pure animal passion with me thrusting hard into her, her biting my shoulder and neck to stop from screaming. We only fucked like this for a few minutes before I put her down and opened my door.

We dropped our bags, tore off our clothes and came together in my front room standing there, hot naked flesh against hot naked flesh kissing. I scooped her up in my arms and twisting her round I placed her on her knees on my sofa, her forearms resting on the back and arm of a corner. I stood behind her, my feet wide apart so I was lower and sunk myself all the way into her. Kylie had a habit of playing with herself as we fucked (I love it when a girl does) and as I started to fuck I could see that she was again now, it meant I didn't have to think about anything beyond fucking her. We were so turned on, both of us talking absolute filth at each other, I was spanking her ass hard which only made her moan louder, talk dirtier. I got up onto the sofa with her, her tits filling my hands as I mumbled incoherent animal grunts in her ear. Fucking her harder still, I picked her up under her hips, holding her in the air relentlessly pounding her - pushing her on closer and closer to the orgasm she was yelling she was on the verge of. It was a humid night, sweat was dripping down me and everything was just pure sex.

Her breath was getting shorter, her moans more restrained, I could feel she was concentrating on cumming and this made me put her down and fuck harder. So hard in fact that as she came we broke our sofa, the back leg finally giving up under the barrage of sexual energy it was having to endure. I didn't stop, barely noticing it as about 20 seconds later with her pleading for me to cum inside her, I finally blew my load fully and deeply inside her still spasming cunt, gripping me as I collapsed onto her moaning like a dying man. I've still not fixed the sofa, and there's always a childish chortle whenever anyone asks me and my flatmates what happened.

We last met up mid way through last year. She'd been going out with a guy for a while and having recently broken up wanted to catch up. This was the first and last time I'd seen her in a while. It was nice to see her and we spent a few hours catching up again. Yes, we ended up back at mine and we had really good sex, I guess coming out of a relationship that went wrong, returning uncomplicated sex with me was a release for her. We barely slept that night, going through half a bottle of lube on each other. Her pussy lips were so swollen at one point they almost looked like they'd been stung - I had her lying on her back on top of me, her feet on the bed and spread as I pistoned in and out of her, one hand rolling her nipples in between my fingers, the other covered in lube frantically rubbing her clit till she came. I say this because it led to something which startled me and which I still revisit.

She wanted to make me cum, so squirting lube onto both hands she started to wank me, using both of her hands twisting up and down my cock, then one hand massaging my balls whilst the other just twisted gently round the tip of me. I like to kiss when I'm being played with like that so I told her to lie next to me and kiss me. I was starting to get close with her steady rhythm, and I asked her to talk dirty for me. She raised herself up on one elbow and making steady eye contact with me she said,

"I want you to imagine me here with another girl fucking you too. I'll be doing exactly this only there'll be another girl on the other side of you and she'll be kissing you. Her hand will be rubbing your balls while I stroke this big hard dick."

I was actually shocked. This was unprompted, we'd not discussed the scenario and she'd hit the nail bang on the head when all I was expecting was just a little generic dirty chat.

"I'll hold your dick in my hand and tell her to fuck you"

She mirrored her words by stopping and just holding the tip in her fingers.

"As I do, I'll sit this tight wet pussy on your face and have you lick me. You won't be able to see anything, you'll just taste me before you feel me guide this cock into her tight little cunt, feel her slide slowly down onto you"

As she said this her hands gripped my cock and slid it slowly down before starting to wank me fast again. I didn't last 30 seconds of this, my orgasm was so powerful I came so hard I actually hit my own face. Which made her laugh hysterically.

Kylie has a boyfriend again now and I didn't follow up too much after, wanting to leave her to her own devices after the break up. I never did get to find out whether she'd have gone through with this with me or whether she was just a very good talker.

I've been sat at my desk at work with a hard cock on and off for the past half hour. I need to fuck, but instead I'm going to a talk on Greek and Roman philosophy. Pretty sure it'll be a load of beardy guys, but here's hoping I'm sat next to a pretty brunette French Sorbonne graduate wearing thick rimmed glasses...

Ze German

Let's rewind to 2007...

In the space of a few months I went from being on the verge of spending over half a million on a beautiful Edwardian house, to moving into a council house room I found on gumtree.

This was because I chose to break up with my girlfriend of ten years.

In short I guess we met too young, I wasn't ready to settle down. I hadn't lived. I hadn't lived selfishly without the safety net of the love we had. I was working too much, playing music too much, playing sport too much, going out too much; basically she was no longer my priority and I didn't like who that was making us. Sex had gone out the window. We both deserved more.

So I moved out and took the flat because it was dirt cheap, close to work, and not the sofa of any of my friends. I lived there for about two months I think. Three bedrooms, 5 or 6 flatmates in that time. Foreigners and reclusive types, we were polite strangers whenever our paths crossed, which with my social life at the time was rare. My small shitty room was just a place to lay my head.

From here I moved into the top floor of a building in Shoreditch. I had a king size mattress on the floor, my guitars, an expensive music system, and beyond basic furniture, that was it. I was paying about £350 a month to live in amongst it all, access to a roof, parties, music and good friends with me too. I was there for about 8 months and my possessions didn't increase, I was not building a life here. My old life was in the flat I still own with my ex. My books, my photographs, art and trinkets picked up from travels, records and 'stuff' would sit looking on; watching my ex as she cried, as she healed, as she no took random men back to fuck on the bed I bought, they sat like mute sentinels there bearing witness to the development of the new love she has now happily found.

My new place was a backdrop for experience and hedonism, it was not a home as such. Everyone would end up back at mine. From the weekly occasions of camaraderie between close friends late into the next day, the times with party buddies, those I'd see only at night, brought together by our mutual friends, to the nights where I couldn't tell you 50% of the rooms first names but all of whom I'd by the end of the night have shared lines, stories and if I was lucky affections. Music would be played all hours at a volume which if I had neighbours would cause constant complaints, things were broken, beer sprayed everywhere, new couplings loudly consummated in the toilet meaning the rest of us would have to go to use the pub that was downstairs for relief.

I'd wake some mornings, the daylight slowly seeping into my brain along with the bleak realisation that it was only Thursday morning and I had two days of work still to go. Broken glass and cigarettes littering the floor, empty wraps of cocaine scattered around like confetti - my room like the set of Skins, only my parents weren't there to clean up after me. I knew I'd move out, as well as on, from this period - but during this time surrounded by good friends, associates, glamorous strangers and characters you'd not believe if I described them here, I had some of the best times of my life.

Heidi worked in a bar nearby which we used to go to all the time. We owned it. As well as this, she was a part time model. A statuesque 6'2", long sandy gold hair, C cup breasts and a body that I've not encountered since. Everything about her figure was beautiful, not just 'hot' but aesthetically the way you'd describe the archetype of a non-anorexic model, slim toned limbs and a grace of movement that was hypnotic. She had green eyes, naturally tanned flawless skin with a dusting of freckles on her nose. Initially I remember not warming to her, unfairly imagining she was arrogant, that she came across as haughty or something. But this was entirely my issue, Heidi was lovely. I suppose I misread the reactions of a person trying to shrink away from just being regarded as a tall beautiful woman.

We were often in the same places, and she was good friends with my flatmate who also worked in a bar. One night Heidi was staying in my flatmates room whilst she was away. A bunch of us were hanging out, drinking into the small hours and then come the end of the night it was just me, Heidi and my flatmates brother who was in town. I thought there was something going on between them maybe, so I said goodnight and returned to my room.

5 minutes later I got a text from Heidi saying "Hi". I replied "Hi yourself". She sent another "What you doing?" So I sent "Waiting for you to bring some booze here?"

I just thought she was still wired, so we should have a drink or something. She came into my room with a bottle of whisky and two glasses and we sat up, lying on my bed drinking and talking. At no stage did I think anything was on the cards. When we were lying there, laughing, close, looking into each others eyes and I still wasn't making any moves - partly because I was really drunk by now so oblivious to any signs, but mainly because here was this really beautiful girl and I'd fancied her for ages. I'd never contemplated the fact that she'd ever be interested in me. So when she moved forwards and kissed me I literally couldn't believe what was going on. I remember kissing her back with my eyes wide open, probably with a look of confusion on my face as I came to terms with what was somehow happening.

After being in a relationship for ten years, you don't have a gauge for how attractive you are because you're not having it objectively impressed on you by the sort of girls you're able to attract. By the end of my relationship my ex and I weren't having sex, I was keen, but she was not. We got into a vicious cycle where she felt pressure to have sex which killed the moment, and I got more and more frustrated. We'd go to bed and it would be the elephant in the room. Both of us thinking about it, but saying nothing. I felt rejected, frustrated, emasculated and not attractive. In this time I didn't cheat on her but it was a big factor to us splitting up, I couldn't carry on like this. I didn't want to be a guy who was having an affair behind her back, I didn't want to do that to her or to me.

As a newly single man with no real reference point I would take whatever I could to begin with, flattered by any female attention. So when me and Heidi arranged to go for a drink, I was still scratching my head about what the hell was going on. We met in Dalston for a drink, and it was a little awkward. Though we got on, it took us a few drinks to warm up. Which turned out to be the case most times we met up. So things weren't developing so much on that front, we weren't soul mates - but still we kept arranging drinks. Why?

Because we loved fucking each other. Heidi was my first fuck buddy, and man did I have a smile on my face about it. The first time we fucked was back at hers. We were drunk, and now totally relaxed and into the flow of getting on. As I chopped up a few lines on the kitchen surface of her studio, I teased her about modelling. I asked her if she had any pictures or anything, and after nagging her she reticently pulled out a copy of Glamour, opened it and handed it to me.....and there she was: just her, no one else in the shot, and it was a Paul Smith ad. My pupils dilated, my heart started to race and my mouth went dry. The line I had cut lay untouched, it's work was being done by another stimulant it seemed: I was going to have sex with a legit model! ME!! Hahaha....

I rolled up a twenty pound note, snorted half a line into my left nostril, then half a line into my right, the cocaine latching on with a pleasing chemical bite into my sinuses. I offered the rolled up note to Heidi who bent over and took the line in one nostril, thanked me and putting her arms round my shoulders kissed me. To this day she has been one of the best kissers I've had the pleasure of (K and Blondie are ahead of her), her lips come alive when she kissed, their size belying how soft and full they felt.

We melted into each other, kissing deeper with our hands pulling each other into ourselves. I led her by her hand to the bed and pulled her down next to me kissing her, my hand in her hair, stroking her face as hers made it's way down over my chest, lifting up my t shirt and softly stroking my stomach and the muscles that form a line into the waistband of my underwear. My hand is stroking down from her neck and coming to a rest on her tits, her hand now cupping me over my jeans. Our kissing has become more physical, more animal as the lust rises in us both. I break away and rip my t shirt over my head and we both tear each others clothes off. She's wearing simple black underwear and she is uncomplicatedly beautiful, wearing little make up other than smokey eye shadow and liner.

I get on top of her in between her legs and kiss her slowly again now. As I do I press myself onto her, resting my weight on her clit through the underside of my cock. I reach round to undo her bra but find no clasp. She laughs and pushes me off and then straddles me.

"Here, let me show you"

She unfastened the clasp at the front of her bra (ahhhh...) and smiling at me reveals her perfect breasts, topped with unexpectedly dark nipples, each the size of a 50p piece. Like a knee jerk reflex I sit upright in response, kissing her, down her neck and then take each nipple softly in my mouth as though it were a rare delicacy to be savoured (which to be fair, they were). She grinds herself on my dick and she groans as my hands knead her breasts. She pushes me back (she was always an active participant, I liked it) and kissed me, holding my hands and pinning them to the bed. She kissed her way down my chest, sucking and flicking her tongue over my nipples, kissed further down and then was knelt upright between my open legs. Her hands began to stroke my cock through my underwear, massaging my balls and raking her nails up and down my shaft making me squirm before pulling my shorts down. She smiled at me with her eyes, a wry knowing smile crept onto her beautiful face as she gripped my cock and dipped her head, engulfing me in her soft warm mouth. Heidi wasn't the best head I've had, but she was good. And what was good about it was that she took her time, she made it really sexy, slowly sliding my cock all the way into her mouth then pulling back and flicking her tongue round the head slowly so I could feel everything. There's a time and a place for fast frenetic head, but to begin with I love the theatrics and control of it when it's so slow and attentive. She holds my eyes as she licks up and down my shaft before starting to lick my balls and wanking me, settling into a steady rhythm.

I was in fucking heaven. And my moans were letting her know it. I could have laid there for hours (actually no, not hours - as much as I don't cum easily, being so well handled by a fucking hot girl would be testing me somewhat), but the gentleman and avid lover of pussy in me meant that it was her turn to lie back. So I pulled her up and told her to lie back. My hand went straight in between her legs, I could feel how wet she was through her panties. I kissed her neck softly as I lightly stroked up and down her pussy with my fingers. I kissed her ear and quietly told her how beautiful I thought she was, how hard she made me, how I was going to take my time going down on her, but that all the time I was I'd be thinking about sinking my hard cock into her for the first time.

A little bit forward for the first time I know, but we'd known each other for a while and I was really turned on. In any case Heidi kind of gasped a little and turned to kiss me really hard so I guess she was into it.

I kissed my way down her long torso, over her taut stomach and trailed my tongue from her navel directly down over her pubic bone to finish licking the fine mesh of her panties covering her. Ordinarily I'd maybe spend more time, but I have to admit I couldn't stop myself from gripping the waistband of her knickers with my teeth (I was still a little wet behind the ears and the teeth thing seemed like a 'sexy' thing at the time) and hooking my fingers under the sides to pull them down and over her long legs. She was recently waxed into just a slim strip of pubic hair, her pussy lips were swollen and glistening from her need in the soft low light. With a flat broad tongue I slowly licked her up and down, loving the wet feeling of her on my tongue. I reached my hands under and over her thighs and with my fingers pulling the skin round her pubic hair exposed her swollen little clit. With the wet pointed tip of my tongue I gently circled it, kissing and sucking her clit into my mouth and licking it firmly, Heidi raised her hips in time with me. Grinding her pussy into my face, my tongue sunk as far as I could inside her whilst two fingers reached over and rubbed her clit. She was moaning now with her eyes closed, heavy breathing and her hands pulling my head into her. I went back to concentrating on her clit and slid my middle finger inside her, she felt really smooth as I slowly fucked her with my finger.

"Put your cock in me. Please, I need you to fuck me"

My thoughts exactly. I got up and bent down to get a condom out of my wallet, I stood up and turned around to see her on all fours, rubbing her clit between her legs, looking back at me smiling dirtily. Looking down to my cock she said,

"I want you to fuck me from behind"

As I tore at the condom packet, my pulse raced making my cock throb and bob up and down. Her eyes were fixed on me, still playing with herself as I pulled the condom on. Getting up on the bed behind her I told her to reach round and spread herself for me which she didn't hesitate in doing. I guided just the tip of my cock into her, then holding her slim hips I slid myself slowly all the way into her making her involuntarily exclaim. Pulling all the way back out I thrust my hips forward hard and with a slap entered her fully again. I started to fuck. Slowly building up in speed I began really pounding her. This was an unceremonious first time and it was what we both wanted, we both just wanted my cock fucking her.

My hands reached forwards to grab her swinging tits as I continued fucking her hard. As my balls slapped against her I could feel that she was rubbing her clit, her face flat on one side against the bed, moaning and breathing hard, mumbling my name as I pounded her relentlessly, a sheen of sweat building on me from the exertions.

That night it continued in this way, me flipping her over onto her back pushing her legs up to her chest and fucking her really deeply, her riding me with a loud slapping as our thrusts met in time, her clit being hammered each time pushing her closer to orgasm. I remember how beautiful she looked riding me, her messed up hair tumbling over her shoulders onto her pert breasts, her fringe obscuring her eyes, her mouth parted with flushed lips as she panted and moaned as she rode me.

We stayed up till about 4 in the morning doing bumps, drinking, smoking and fucking all night. We fell asleep, a sweaty exhausted mess, me spooning her and stroking her hair as her breathing slowed. I kissed her back as my hand softly stroked affectionately all over her body till she fell asleep. I've always been affectionate, I'm not someone who will roll over and leave a girl to lie awake in the wet patch to listen to my snores, minutes after I've cum, I like to cuddle. As gay as that sounds.

We continued with this arrangement, meeting up whenever the mood took us for getting on for a year. I've not seen her for quite a while now, we arranged to catch up before Xmas but one thing or other got in the way and we cancelled.

Hmmm - I think I should maybe text her hello.

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...

1st date of the year

I should at this point let you know I'd already put up a number of posts here. However for some reason these disappeared without warning or reason, and I'm still none the wiser as to why. The only thing I can think is that I linked to a comedic porn video to exemplify a point. But really? Is this place actually that prudish?

Anyway my point here being that the date I'm about to tell you about happened on January 10th, a few weeks ago now.

I'd been talking to 'O' for a week maybe, she lived East, hated the use of emoticons, was a published writer, and could only meet at the start of the week because her other job kept her busy later in the week.

"I'm an erotic dancer, I hope that doesn't freak you out".

Err.....no, I think I'm pretty much ok with that O.

I should probably tell you that I'm a pervert. Yes, I am a man and we all are to some extent, but I have the sex drive of a teenager which instead of just myself and my computer, I've been lucky enough to indulge with some like minded other people. I don't hold myself up to be challenging the Marquis or Don, but I've met few girls who seem to be as libidinous as me. I've had a threesome with a couple, impromptu quickies in amusing places, and being dominant I've enjoyed a great many things of my choosing. K was one who matched me and who had a more vociferous, or at least, more numerously sated sex life before me (actually, during too which was less than ideal)

I guess maybe I'd put my own drive down to a decade of monogamy and dwindling sex with that person by the end - I had a lot of catching up to do. I also think this informs how I treat women. I love women. I had and have a lot of friends who are girls, I don't view girls just as sexual objects - although I do objectify the women I'm attracted to, but in a good way and not to the detriment of the other reasons I'm attracted to her i.e. her mind. I'm said to be emotionally intelligent and empathetic, enough for it to not surprise me when another girl later tells me that to begin with she thought I could be gay.

So now, I'm kind of like a watered down boyfriend all the time. Sex wise the girl could have her hands tied behind her back, my hand could be pulling her hair, a thumb in her ass as I pound her, gruffly telling her what a dirty slut she is as she watches me in the mirror. But then afterwards, I'm going to be more than happy to have her lie on my chest as I stroke her hair, talk and then spoon till sleep takes us (DISCLAIMER: That's if we get on or this isn't just an arranged fuck and nothing else etc). I don't think that this is that unusual, but still - from what I've been told it's an interesting mix.

Aaaanyway. Rambling again. Back to the date.

So yeah, she's a stripper. I've always found strip clubs a weird little psychological microcosm. I'm talking about the more upmarket ones. Are they places where women are exploited, demeaned and belittled by men? Or are they as much places where women are entirely in control, emancipated, with a sense of power as they disdainfully pluck money from these base men's wallets with aplomb? I love a beautiful, perfectly waxed, spread and presented pussy all up in my face as much as the next man, but I don't understand the appeal of handing crisp £20 note after crisp £20 note over in order to get nothing other than more and more frustrated.

However a woman who is confident in herself, confident in her overt sexuality and revels in using her body and mind to turn a guy on? That. Shit. Is. HOT. So meeting O, a girl with an apparently engaging mind who has a penchant for fucking, outside of the strip club scenario was something I was way into.

We went to Last Days Of Decadence which was shit. Monday night and dead. They were doing DIY and had the main lights up on full FFS (nothing worse than bright ambient light in my book). She was late. So I got a beer and sat reading the paper. She turns up 30 mins later, apologises and I go get some drinks which are overpriced and under-made. A dirty martini for her, an old fashioned for me.

She's not quite as trim as her pictures or profession would have led me to believe, however she's pretty and in shape. She's wearing a dark floral print dress, her hair is loose, long and brown (I love brunettes). Her eyes are green mottled with flecks of brown and her make up sparse, however applied with a hand practiced enough so that what is there has more of an effect than it should. We talk about her favourite authors, her style of writing, what her novel is about and the sort of characterisation she favours. Which gave me an answer to something I'd wondered before too. When you're stripping, as well as a different name, do you also affect a whole different identity? As much for fun as self preservation. Turns out that for O at least, yes you do. And being a creative mind, she had some hilariously developed ones, girls with backstories, foibles, relations, all sorts. I guess in some ways being a stripper offers an aspiring writer the chance to road test and develop some of her characters to see how believable and engaging they are (albeit as the guy stares at your tits and agrees/laughs with everything you have to say).

I've bought a couple of drinks now and O goes to the bar to get the next. She comes back with some drinks and tells me she's forgotten to bring out enough money. Which is pretty fucking cheeky (SPOILER ALERT: She had money for a cab home in the morning though). I can't help but feel her habits of not having to dip her hand into her purse on a night out have seeped into her day to day. But anyway.

Having said that, she tells me she's going to go have a cigarette. She slowly applies lip gloss and makes it the sexiest thing in the world before standing up and vamping her way to the door, knowing full well what she's doing. It has it's desired effect. I've pretty much forgotten any monetary issues (going back to my earlier question of whether it's men or women in control there - I think you have your answer).

The booze and liberal conversation is also having it's effect and when she comes back I decide fuck it, I'm going to kiss her. I see no point in being backwards about this kind of thing. You're both there to get on and at some point fuck, if not, why the hell are you there? If she tells you you've got the wrong idea then hey, shit happens. So a pause in conversation presents itself and I lean in, I kiss her softly and she kisses me back, just lips for a few seconds and then I leave it at that - I may be forward but I'm not going to search for cavities with my tongue like a teenager. Not at this stage anyway. But it's on.

We go on to a few other bars, drinking cocktails, shots and generally getting wasted. It's after midnight now and I suggest we head back to mine for a drink. We get a taxi and in the back she says "I'm not going to sleep with you you know?" to which all I could say was something like "Damn, and there I was hoping to get all these drinks paid back with demeaning sexual acts". She laughs and we resume kissing.

Back at mine I open a bottle of red, take her to my room and put a record on. Things are of course going particularly well. I'm aware that yes, I do have in my room a girl who is pretty and also a stripper. I'm also aware that most men who have been in my situation and armed with this knowledge are probably over eager - so I'm not intending to add to their number. So we're on my bed kissing, I'm lying next to her, verging on top of her. My kisses are teasing, soft, but laden with sexual intent. One hand is in her hair, the other is wandering over her curves, lightly touching her, circling her nipples, as her legs open my hand runs up and down the inside of her thigh, getting closer and closer to the heat I can actually feel from between them, before slowly drawing my hand between her legs, over her stomach and pulling back.

We'd already spoken about power and control between the sexes. Societally, in the strip club and sexually. So I knew that my like of being in control and taking the reins was happily complimented in hers to yield. I asked her to pass me my drink. She rolled over, stood up and passed it to me - the lamp on the floor was kind of backlighting her dress, I can see the shape of her legs, the light accentuating her curves. She looked hot.

"Wait, stay standing there. You look hot"

Most girls would probably feel self conscious in this situation, especially on a first date. I guessed correctly that she of course wouldn't. She straightened up, moved her weight onto one leg and with her hands on the back of her hips so her breasts stood out, did as I asked.

"Now take that dress off for me"

Her eyes narrowed as she smiled at me questioningly. I took another sip of my drink. Pausing, then holding her eyes with a hungry stare,

"I asked you to take your dress off..."

Moving over and placing my drink on the floor

"...I won't ask again"

Smiling she reaches back, unzips her dress and in one movement lifts the flimsy material over her head to reveal a black bra, a mix of lace and viscose, and french knickers through which I could see her perfectly trimmed pubic hair leading down to what I couldn't wait to taste.

Now I'd not normally be this forward on a first date, but when armed with the knowledge that she likes a man to be a man and is obviously body confident it just made sense at the time. Plus, let's be honest - I was pretty drunk.

I stand up and pulling her into me by her ass, kiss her hard. Lifting her up I turn round with her and lower her to the bed, lie in between her legs and grind my cock into her as she pulls my mouth onto hers and thrusts up to meet my cock. Subtlety is a forgotten word at this point, we're both in the heat of the moment - I reach round and unclip her bra, my hands cup her tits as I hungrily kiss and suck her nipples. With my hands still on her breasts I begin to kiss my way down her body, across her soft stomach, my tongue licking her naval which makes her jolt. She's still lying sideways along my bed and I've slipped off the bed now onto my knees - I pull her body towards me, my hands opening her legs wide and softly again now I kiss the sensitive insides of her thighs from one to the other, avoiding what the see through material is covering in the middle but blowing onto her as I do. My tongue now licks right at the top of the inside of her thighs, her breathing is getting heavier and my cock is throbbing. I stop. She opens her eyes and looks down at me as I push her legs up and wide. I smile a dirty smile and for the first time, lick all the way from her ass to her clit which I tongue and breathe hot breath heavily onto through her now wet knickers.

(At this stage I feel it appropriate to tell you that I LOVE giving head. I cannot understand those men who don't. Or who can't. It's one of the hottest things to be that intimate with a girls pussy. Giving pleasure is almost as good as getting for me, whilst I'm dominant, that doesn't mean selfish - in fact quite the opposite. Being in control of a girl's pleasure, knowing that you're the one who is making her breath like that, say the filth that she is, thrash around and spasm like that - it's hot. If I had a really hot fuck buddy who was local to me, if she wanted me to come over, spend 20 minutes going down on her, teasing and playing with her till she came before leaving straight away after? I'd be into it. The idea of a girl I'm into pushing me back and sitting her pussy on my face just like that is a massive turn on.)

I pull her knickers down unceremoniously and with a broad flat tongue I again lick from her ass slowly up to her clit. She's really wet and her clit is pleasingly poking out a little now so I pay it the attention it's looking for. First with a soft tongue circling it slowly, then with just the tip barely touching her I flick my tongue over it hard and fast, grazing it. I reach up to her tits and as I start to lick her more directly, my fingers roll her erect nipples between them. She's moaning now, her pants and involuntary 'fucks' are only turning me on more. One finger is circling the outside of her pussy lips, dipping inside her and pulling back, the other hand is now exposing her clit more for me to flick with my tongue, a thumb rubbing just above her clit as I push my finger into her and rhythmically start to fuck her. I reach for her G-Spot. In my experience (and it's only mine) I'd say that maybe 30% of women enjoy this, for the rest it's either too sensitive, doesn't seem to do anything or makes them feel like they need to pee or something. O was in the 30%. I'm breathing hard myself now, I'm licking like an epileptic thirsty cat, my fingers fucking her hard and she starts babbling, gripping my sheets, she's going to cum.

I stop.

"You don't get to cum yet."

I kiss her cunt, and licking slowly up and down her sodden lips and clit I say to her,

"You'll cum when I say you can you understand?"

I punctuate this by pressing harder onto her G-Spot. She bites her bottom lip and almost looking like she's in pain from the effect it's having nods quickly. I move up and kiss her slowly then stand up in front of her and undo my belt.

She moves forward and sitting on the side of my bed kisses my chest and abs slowly with a wet open mouth as she undoes my trousers and begins to massage me through my boxers. Looking intently at what she's about to unveil, she pulls the waistband of them out and over me, pulling them down along with my trousers. My cock springs up and hits her in the chin.

It's a moment of reality in amongst being lost in sex and I like it. We laugh and the atmosphere is broken for a second, but in a good way. It's almost as though that bit of humour has allowed the dynamic to change too. She gets down on her knees, takes my rock hard cock in her hand and starts to kiss the tip of my cock whilst she looks deep into my eyes and asks if I like her being my slut. She's in control now. I nod. She pulls back on my cock and takes me into her mouth, fucking me with it a few times. Licking her hands she starts to wank me, one hand working my cock, the other rubbing and cupping my balls - looking up into my eyes with faux innocence she asks,

"Are you going to fuck me hard with this?"

She circles her tongue around the head, sucks me and when she pulls back, leaves a trail of saliva from the tip of my cock to her bottom lip.

"I'm so fucking wet for you, are you going to pound my pussy hard all night?"

My response is a garbled noise and frantic nod, her hands and mouth have stolen any eloquence or smart quips that may have sounded cool here, I have a monosyllabic mind, and that one word is "FUUUUUCK".

Ok.

At this point I feel that the break of me having to get a condom, almost falling over myself to get it on as she lay back playing with herself is a good point to stop with the detailed descriptions. I can't help but feel anyone reading could be bored, plus this blog could get a little repetitive (so long as girls continue to want to fuck me of course).

However I will say one more thing about our night together and that's the first time she came.

I was on top of her, her legs pressed up to her chest - I'm sweating from pounding her so hard and she's rubbing her clit frantically. She's getting louder and louder (thankfully my housemates were out), and I can feel she's getting wetter and wetter it seems too. And then she cums. And I feel a warmth around my pubic hair. She's really seeming to enjoy it and there's that warmth again. Then I twig. She's a squirter. Now I've never experienced this before, but I've got to say it's fucking hot. It's messy, she's not able to control herself as she's lost in her orgasm and it just seems like pure SEX. The only downside was that I had to get a towel to sleep on, she came a lot throughout the night.

So as my first date for 2011 goes, it was a good one. Not all girls will be quite so obliging I know, and in fairness, I'd not expect them to be either. Building your sexual palette together is an important thing too, it's not all 'in at the deep end'. Meeting a girl who isn't as experienced but willing to try things is as much of a turn on as someone who has been there, done it and is only too happy and able to do it again, and again, and again...

The next day and even falling asleep afterwards, I actually felt a bit empty, it all felt a little bit meaningless. It's really quite annoying. I used to do this and it was all positive, all fun, no one got hurt, everyone knew what was going on and the next day was just spent replaying parts in my head at my desk. Not having meaning or an emotional connection meant it felt a little meaningless and left me a bit sad. (I'm talking like a teenage girl I know). Even though I know it's a good thing that we're not going out now, even though I know that she's not the girl she seemed to be or who cares about me, I still think about K. Every day. I still miss her.

I think I'm going to be single for a while. My heart is still bruised.

But then on the bright side it's not just my heart. My cock was pretty sore the next day from the workout it got too. So it's not all bad really.

Thanks O, you were fun x

Online dating

So online dating? What's that all about eh?

A refuge for hermits, sanctury for the socially inept, and den of iniquity for the questionably moraled underbelly of society? Maybe.

Populated by a surprising amount of people from Clapham who, if you go by their pictures at least, seem to enjoy skiing? Definitely in my experience.

I'd say that online dating no longer suffers from the stigmas it once used to. To my mind sites like My Single Friend have done a lot to change attitudes (A site fronted by a tv personality, where you have to recruit a friend to write a paragraph telling everyone how great you are).

Whereas once you'd probably have felt your blood run cold if someone found out you were online dating, nowadays you're more than likely to tell your friends about it the day before and then regale them with stories the day after. You see, places like MSF made it a social, fun, and most importantly shared experience. I'm sure back in the day, guys had less of a problem to go online, but for girls I think it was a darker, more predatory space in ways.

For the rest of us - each and every day we all send messages, view pictures, and interact with people online, some we know well, others less so, some not at all as our inner voyeur peeks through the curtains of a perfect strangers unguarded security settings and at their holiday snaps. So meeting and getting to know people online makes sense.

You see for me, when I'm out, I'm out with my friends so I've no intention to spend my night casting meaningful glances around the room, ready at any minute to leave my friends and embark on a woo-a-thon. Since I don't go to meat markety places and I don't have many stella drinking single male friends, I have no wingmen to go out 'hunting' with. Plus I find it kind of cringy the idea of going up to a stranger at a bar, intruding on her night and then needing to deliver in the space of 4 minutes: chat which makes her think I'm funny, intelligent, caring and convinces her I'm in possession of the genes and a delivery device to pass them on which make all over men in the bar fade away (*ahem* I am, I am, I am, I do, I kind of do).

I like that you get to meet people who you'd not normally get a chance to meet on these sites. Either through geography, circumstance or prejudice. There have been a fair few girls I've hooked up with, even gone out with, who I'm sure either wouldn't have paid me attention in a bar, or who I wouldn't have bowled over to and chatted up all night. It's good that you can talk beforehand, sound them out, see if there's common ground, banter, a sense of humour etc. When you do meet up you've almost got all the awkward stuff out of the way as you've got a rapport of some sort already going on.

Now all of the above is retrospective reasoning. The main reason I joined up to the online dating world was due to what my friend told me a year or so ago. She said she had a friend, a guy, who went onto My single Friend looking for a girlfriend to settle with. After a few weeks of dating she asked him how it was going. He said it was not going so well, all of the girls he met up with just wanted to have sex. She said it seemed to him like it was just one big hook up site.

I was a fully paid up member by that weekend.

Up next: My first and third dates of the year. In chronological order.