Bloggie Award Thingies

I can't find a 'best blog about nonsense' category but they do have 'best new blog' or 'best diarist' categories so if you can be bothered, please nominate or vote for me and make a girl rather happy.
There's a link on the right.

xx

Damn this blog.

Finding a partner is a bit like having an orgasm: get it right and it'll knock your socks off but try too hard and it'll be a big let down or even worse, never happen.

My last boyfriend was the first big love of my life and even though I realise now the feeling wasn't mutual and my heart is still a little bruised from the battering it sustained, I'd do it all again in a second.

Dating has been tricky so far and having this blog and column for The Skinny hasn't helped. If I meet someone as 'Phoebe', then there's already a preconception of who I am based on what I've done which is almost always wrong and I've heard so often “You're nothing like I thought you'd be”.

Meeting someone without this prior knowledge has led to more than one raised eyebrow and uncomfortable silences over drinks, after which I may as well just paint a scarlet letter on my chest and dry hump the table leg.

So has my sex life killed any chance of romance?

The prospect of meeting someone who'll make me laugh until my face hurts and allow me to rip his clothes off whenever possible is worth every bad date I have to endure.
However, I'm beginning to wonder if this person exists or if I've already loved him and lost him.

If I'm honest the little challenges I've set myself have been more than fun but I set out to see if it was possible to have truly fulfilling sex with someone I wasn't in love with. I've decided the answer is no. For me, great sex is all about complete vulnerability and intimacy, something I'll never have if I don't give my heart to the person I'm sleeping with.

So it turns out that although I'm perhaps not sexually conventional, when it comes to relationships I'd quite happily give my body, mind and outrageous morning hair, to just one man.

Let the games begin.

Sex with an ex

Believe it or not, I'm a huge fan of relationships, in fact I spent most of my 20’s, carelessly bouncing in and out them, never quite finding ‘the one’ and wishing more often than not that I’d be swept off my feet instead of just tripped up occasionally.

My last relationship ended rather badly a couple of years ago and if you look up ‘manipulator’ in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of my ex, holding my heart (and possibly my severed head), looking smug and doing a little jig.

Before him, I dated James for 5 months and although our relationship was extremely hot and heavy and fun at times, it finally ended when I realised that behind the gorgeous exterior lay a man with no discernible personality and a tendency to say “sack” a lot. Beyond annoying.

So when he emailed me and asked me over for dinner, I was completely surprised as I hadn't spoken to him in years and to be honest, hadn't really thought about him much in that time. I replied to his email and immediately became curious to know what he'd been up, what he looked like and well, if he still had the stamina of a racehorse.

He picked me up, we got a takeaway and spent the entire car journey chatting about old times and unashamedly eyeing each other up. Despite thinking that he'd been a bit of an arse all those years ago, I couldn't see any evidence of this now; perhaps I'd been a bit too harsh?

His appearance hadn't change much and I still found him enormously attractive. I'm guessing he felt the same as we let the takeaway go cold on the kitchen worktop and had surprisingly great sex in the living room.
Afterwards I lay for a few minutes wondering why the hell I'd been so quick to dump this guy and whether we should start something up again.

We reheated dinner and sat down, both feeling rather pleased with ourselves. However, it took me exactly 15 mins into dinner to remember why dumping him was probably the smartest move I’ve ever made.
He said “sack” 14 times (I counted), ate with his mouth open and when he started to tell me that he'd contact me because his girlfriend of 3 years (who was at a wedding in India), refused to go down on him I nearly had a fit and left promptly with a “fuck you”. And the prawn crackers.

Sex with an ex can either be quite cathartic or completely stupid. I feel this was the latter. My libido has a lot to answer for.
I seem to forget sometimes that my relationships have ended for a reason and not because I've mislaid them or decided just to come back to them at a later date. I did however get a 'rush' at the thought of a new one beginning and that feeling hasn't left.

I think I want a boyfriend.

Shit.

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

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...

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

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.

.