Tuesday, 13 October 2009

A little help from my friends please..

I have a little problem. Well, actually, I have many little problems but this one in particular is annoying more than the others.

My last experience with a woman didn’t go exactly to plan. The plan being that I would be great in bed but the reality of the situation biting me in the ass. I was terrible. I fumbled. Big time.
However, as I plan to be champion of the world at everything I’m hoping to redeem myself. But how?

I know for a fact if my problem was with men, I could easily find a guy, willing to let me practise on him but I have the feeling that women won’t be as quick to be guinea pigs or target practise.

Finding myself in a rather odd situation recently where I had to practically leave the room to stop myself from kissing the face off a rather gorgeous girl, I began to think about the prospect of being with a woman again.

I got nervous.

I’m never fucking nervous.

So instead of me dishing out the smart-arse advice on my other site, the floor is open and I invite you all to leave comments.

xx

Wednesday, 7 October 2009

Sex with strangers

Writing a blog and column of this nature has been a lot of fun but has also ensured that anyone who knows me will not sleep with me for fear of being ‘reviewed’. This isn’t about rating men or how good they are in bed, it’s about me experimenting and generally making a complete tit out of myself along the way.

My last ‘fuck buddy’ is now winging his way across the world (for work - not because of me I might add, what a crushing blow to self esteem that would be) and the only other current possibility has selfishly decided to get himself a rather lovely girlfriend, so again I find myself without a playmate.

Most of my liaisons have been with men I’ve known or become friendly with which unfortunately means that occasionally feelings have gotten in the way (both mine and theirs) so I decided to make my next challenge simple. Sex with strangers. No names, no messy connections, just sex.

So, making use of my internet connection (for something other than Twitter) I began checking personal ads for men looking for similar. Yes, in theory this should have been easy, however, the problem is not finding someone to sleep with, it’s finding someone attractive, discreet and more importantly finding someone who won’t decide you look better in the boot of his car.

The personal ads are full of men looking to meet women for some ‘NSA’ sex and I think they all replied to my advert at once. The difference between what men and women look for became crystal clear from the 40 ‘cock shots’ I received but no indication of what the person actually looked like. I can’t make a decision based on a webcam photo of a penis – I don’t fancy a penis, I fancy the face and body it’s attached to.

A week later I found David; handsome, worked in the ‘arts’ and we seemed to be on the same no-bullshit wavelength. We chatted for a while over email and I felt confident enough to meet him. We met at his place and ended up having rather frantic sex on his couch while Metallica played loudly on his stereo. The sex was good, he was very nice and quite sexy but something was missing. The physical attraction was there but it just felt empty. On the way home it dawned on me exactly what was missing. It was that messy, complicated connection I’d been so eager to avoid.

I’m sure there are a lot of people who do this successfully but I need that spark you get with someone before you actually decide to have sex. Perhaps for men it’s purely physical, although I don’t want to generalise, but for me I have to be mentally excited as well as physically and I wasn’t. It’s not arousing to know that I could have been just anyone which is exactly what I was.

I’m wondering if I’d feel this way in a group setting. Only one way to find out I guess...

Monday, 5 October 2009

Ciao handsome...

To my Italian friend,

Sorry I won't be able to see you before you go but you're probably the sweetest guy I've met in a long time and I hope everything goes well.
Did I ever mention how hot you are? Oh I did...

Your finger work deserves an award........

xx

Saturday, 12 September 2009

The Watcher

I’m a girl who likes porn. Yes, the sight of two slightly vacant, hairless people shagging each other senseless can turn me on. Sex excites me and the thought of another couple have filthy sex excites me but would I actually get turned on watching a real life couple have sex: right in front of me?

I placed an advert for a couple who’d let me find out. I got a lot of replies and after sifting through various maniacs, old timers and people who composed their emails in text speak –

“Prof cpl who have done this b4 but would love 2 do again lol”
Why are you laughing? Stop pretending to text me.

I finally spoke with Jamie and Lisa who seemed to fit the bill. Attractive, mid 30’s and who were as new to this as I was.
We arranged to meet that week, they booked the hotel and I began to get a little nervous.

The evening arrived and we met in the hotel bar, had a drink and although the conversation wasn’t in any way awkward, I felt a bit odd. Was I going to witness something which would give me nightmares rather than the horn?

Once upstairs Jamie closed the curtains and they both sat on the bed and I sat on a great big chair like Ronnie fucking Corbett, wishing that I’d worn my contacts instead of my glasses to make it less obvious I wanted perfect vision for this.
As they started kissing I immediately felt like a big old pervert and wondered what the hell I was doing. Would it be rude to run away screaming?

I was very aware of my presence, as were they and I had a million questions popping into my head. “What should I do with my hands?” “Is this a smoking room?” “If I can’t get a good enough look should I stand up or is that just taking the piss?”

At one point, I did almost laugh out loud but purely because my mind was in overdrive and from a certain angle that Jamie’s cock looked a bit like a root vegetable and I started saying “one potato, two potato...” in my head over and over. Thankfully, biting my lip until it hurt seemed to stifle any giggles.

I must admit as they got more into it, so did I. I don’t know how much of the act was for my benefit but they fucked like pros and most importantly genuinely seemed to be enjoying it.

I didn’t touch myself, stand up or even speak but I was transfixed and my initial embarrassment was quickly replaced by complete fascination and a desire to join in. Not wanting to turn it into another threesome adventure, I sat on my hands and watched quietly until they finished.

They lay back in bed, she lit a cigarette (it was a smoking room – bugger) and not wanting to kill the buzz I asked them to keep in touch and left rather sheepishly.
This is something I’d definitely explore further, either by joining in or by having a partner with me and see what develops.

I will however, never look at a potato again in the same light.

.

The morning after...

Ok, apologies to my sticky palmed readers but I'm not going to reveal too much about last night. What I can say is HOLY SHIT!!! To say I find this guy attractive is an understatement.

So 'A', if your reading - turn the music up a little louder next time...A presto...x

Thursday, 10 September 2009

Neurotic? Moi?

It may shock you all to know that my body isn’t perfect. Yes, close your surprised mouths and unfollow me on Twitter if you wish but I’m what you would describe as ‘average’.

I have a tummy, stretch marks, boobs that are heading south faster than a chilly bird at winter and even the occasional spot on my ass. But I’m fine with this. Or at least I thought I was.

I’ve arranged a date with a rather hot younger man. Not only is this man handsome, he also has a great body and this makes me rather nervous for the first time in a long time.

When I look at it sensibly, I know that it doesn’t actually matter. When I’m attracted to someone I couldn’t give a fuck how fat they are or if they’re blemish free and I usually assume it’s the same for guys. I’ve never thought halfway through sex “hmm..he could lose a few pounds; I’m usually too busy insisting he uses that extra weight to pin me down.

It has also made me realise how hard women can be on themselves. We’re told our faces, bodies, hair and even vaginas should look a certain way, but who the fuck decided this? I wasn’t consulted. Were you?

So while I snarl at my tummy in disgust, feel free to leave me your comments on this, especially guys. Do you worry about this nonsensical shit before sex or just give yourself a pat on the ass and feel happy that someone’s about to touch your willy?
xx

Friday, 4 September 2009

Here puss puss...

A recent question on my agony aunt page has made me a little bit riled. Boys telling their mates that a girl’s pussy smells.
Many, many women (including myself) are conscience of being smelly should a man’s head happen to find its way between their legs and this has certain came from the whole ‘stigma’ of having a smelly fanny.

Women’s vaginas don’t smell like roses, they smell like vaginas. Of course they shouldn’t smell like a fish van, this is generally an indication of either infection or very poor hygiene but every woman smells different, some a bit stronger than others.

Oh and a quick point to all those boys who find this amusing: Don’t. Your cock smells too and believe me if I’m going down on a guy and he smells, I’ll tell him. I won’t run away to my mates and laugh about it. It’s called being a grown up.
I’d also like to point out that a huge amount of men are fucking useless at giving head. That’s something we do tell our friends.

Something to think about.