just before i go to bed…
My alarm just went. 1200 days since I last had sex. Blue ball.
Lionel Messi chases a ball, Banksy scribbles on walls and I get women’s phone numbers.
I can’t speak for everyone but isn’t New Years just the best?
I’ve spent the last few with friends and always had a great time but when you’re the only single member of the group, instinct washes over and I spend the entire night wandering off in search of random people. Not so much to find one person to kiss or anything as trite as that but out of pure boredom. I don’t begrudge them for being in couples and nor do I long for what they have. It’s not a feeling of loneliness nor the on-setting pangs of depression brought about by feeling something is missing that drives me to not enjoy my friends company at the stroke of midnight, it’s more the fact that New Years Eve couple’s have the default setting tuned to insular and THEN when you’re the only single person do I get bored.
So this New Year, I wanted something a little different, a new destination. I wouldn’t spend this one within the old oak walls of the local pub where I grew up surrounded by the same people with the same stories. Where’s the drugs and crazy bastards? London it was then.
Photographer was waking up one morning last week, we’d shared a bed after I’d been present the night before when she had a massive argument with a boyfriend who is not quite happy with the open status of their relationship. Photographer is the sort of person who likes company but not commitment. She’d likely try to tell you this is because she finds everything around her fascinating through her artistic eye and can’t confine herself to staying with one thing but instead explore it all. I on the other hand would tell you it’s because she’s always horny and likes sex without limiting herself to one person. Either way is acceptable but my version isn’t bullshit. This morning however, the morning after the boyfriend stormed in and asked me to step outside (he’s lucky I didn’t) so she could pick the ‘winner’ in some modern day archaic display of neanderthal rights, I’d woken up next to naked photographer with a hangover. She wanted sex but of course through her semi conscious haze, she forgot who she was next to as she was trying to bite the corner of a condom off to slap on me, so instead we did some of the stuff I do when I can’t have sex.
She finished, threw on my shirt and went to make coffee and find a cigarette. “What do you make of Keir?” Keir was a male dancer I’d met the night before.
“He seemed fun.” I shouted back trying to shock my jaw into functioning enough to form words.
“Do you want to fuck him?” She playfully threw at me.
“No. I don’t…I’m not…I don’t like guys.” I’d just gone down on her and she was asking if I was gay. Ego wasn’t too pleased about this.
“I knew you weren’t. He said for sure you were bi but I told him “he eats cunt better than most girls I know.” (ego 1…) Just thought I’d ask. What about Lauren? Would you fuck her?”
Normally an admission of interest in the friend of a girl you’ve kind of started seeing is completely off limits. This however was as open and honest an arrangement as could be and not even the fact that Lauren was photographer’s ex girlfriend was an egg shell on this occasion. “Lauren? Why?”
“Do you think she’s pretty?” She poked her head in the room, it tilted forward and she fixed on me as a filthy grin filled her face.
“Yes she’s pretty, but I have a thing for dancers.” Lauren is a dancer.
“Do you want to spend New Years with her? She’s got a party and I really want to go so I can fuck her friend Danielle. I think Lauren fancied you…”
“Of course she fancied me” I interrupted as I lay in bed looking smug as is right when you’re being offered around as a viable option for pleasure to a group of hot dancers.
“Well? Do you want to go?” She looked at me and I kid you not, it was how a father must feel when I child is asking if they can have a pet dog. Lauren’s dancer friend was like a play thing to photographer and she wanted it so badly.
“So you’re pimping me out to your ex girlfriends now?” I figure seeing as I have a little bit of power at this moment then why not have some fun with it.
“Oh right because you’d have a problem with that.” I forgot, photographer gets bored quickly and if I want to go to a party filled with drunk dancers…and I really really do have a thing for them especially if they’re as crazy as most of photographers friends are when drinking and taking drugs…I fold easily.
“I’ll come with you but if this Danielle girl is cute I want a crack at her as well.”
“So sure of your abilities aren’t you?” She pretends to sound unimpressed.
“Yep, and if you aren’t careful I’ll take them both off you.” I do my best to hide my excitement. This New years won’t be spent in a village pub avoiding the partners of people I slept with when I was 13 no. This year will be at a party with drugs, fun strangers and dancers everywhere. EVERYWHERE!
Keir was the person who greeted us as we got there. I didn’t imagine it was his place, a large house in Angel Islington seemed a bit of a stretch for anyone as young as he was. He kissed photographer in as camp a manner as possible. You know how I enjoy gay people? They’re just as lovely as the rest of us? I still can’t work out half the time how much of the camp mannerisms are inherent in them and how much is pure affectation but I usually assume it’s the latter, especially when it’sthisover the top. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and said something along the lines of “So you’re not gay? Gutted.” at least I think that’s what he said, I was already gone. In just the entrance of this house were a couple of women, early to mid 20’s in incredible shape and all standing with impossibly straight spines even though this was slouched for them. To the left was a guy I recognised from TV, I didn’t know his name nor what he was on but he was an actor of some sort I was sure of it and had this confirmed later by his co star, a pretty blonde I swapped numbers with some time before 11 and have messaged several times since. Options. Behind them was a room with a DJ in and a few people already drunk including someone else I recognised as a model but as her head was clearly too big for her neck and shoulders I knew there and then that I wouldn’t be among the gaggle of men flocking around her. Poor girl couldn’t even afford a meal for fucks sake. Then I saw one of the dancers sniff. Not the sniff of a cold sufferer but the unmistakable one of a person chatting 100 mph and wide eyed after the cardboard taste of coke. Photographer was already ahead of me and was on her way over. “Where’s the drugs ladies?”
When we got to the room there was a mirror, already laced with cut lines and someone’s discarded £5 note strewn in among a smorgasbord of other drugs. From the next room was the unmistakable smell of sticky weed and the sound of people talking shit. I looked through them and saw something wrapped in a cigarette paper…could it be? I picked it open very slowly making sure not to spill the contents and inside, sure enough, some delicious MDMA. I almost screamed with excitement. The task of talking a person who already fancies you into bed is simple enough but if you’ve both had MDMA then not only is it less of a let down for them to discover your dick doesn’t work but you may also be able to get other people involved. I neatly folded it back up and replaced it before doing a fat line of coke, which normally would make an erection impossible for me but that’s obviously not an issue these days. I handed my money to photographer as Keir leaned in “Help yourselves to MDMA guys. Actually, take some with you, it’ll all be gone once people realise it’s here. He was of course right. I reached in my pocket and found a card someone had bought me for Christmas, opened the envelope and put 3 bombs inside it then had a twinge of guilt and replaced one before finally thinking “fuck it” and picking up 4 more. 6 bombs of MDMA, another line of coke and I hadn’t even discovered the free drinks yet.
When Lauren arrived with Danielle in tow I quickly discovered they were seeing each other. Quite possibly the hottest lesbian (bisexual) couple known to man, the sort that most teenage boys fantasise about until they discover what the majority of lesbian couples actually look like. Both dancers, one blonde one brunette. I looked at photographer already making a beeline for them, the girl has eyes like a hawk and I decided on a more measured approach. I turned around and had my back to them chatting to Keir and the older business man who I assumed owned the house we were all methodically trashing. I decided I’d talk to them, maybe chat to blonde actress I was yet to swap phone numbers with and then make my way to the room every one was smoking in and join them for one. I was mapping it out when a cute voice bellowed out my name “*******! I was just asking where you were. Merry Christmas and all that.” It was Lauren, who was clearly more aware of the reason I was here than I had originally thought. Her and Danielle were either about to go on a break or, and I’ve come to expect this of people who are friends with photographer, were open about who they’d fuck. Meandering wasn’t needed.
“Right you filthy lesbian. Come with me.” I grabbed her hand and took her into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of whatever had been poured and led her to the balcony just off the room every one was smoking in. Lit us both a fag and made a comment on the amazing dress she was wearing. “You look like shit in that dress. It really does nothing for your bottom does it?” It did.
“Do I?” She smirked. “Well you look pretty shit in that jacket you have on.” A little attempt to return the compliment but I wasn’t having it.
“Please. We both know I look outstanding in this jacket. Don’t start deflecting from the fact you’re only wearing that dress because it didn’t match with the one your girlfriend wanted to wear. Her’s looks like she chose it whereas you just look you’ve settled on that.” I said through my smirk.
“Cheeky cunt!” She snorted as she mocked hitting me on the arm and refused to look away. “So you know what my “girlfriend” (she did that inverted commas signal with her hands) and my ex are doing now?”
“No, but I know what they’re intending to do and I know that you probably want me.” Don’t be backwards about being forward.
“I do, do I?” She tries to pull off a hard to get look as she cocks her head to the side and holds her glass in front of her face and balance her cigarette between her fingers.
“You want to kiss me?” Someone once told me there are only three answers to this, YES, NO, or MAYBE. If she says YES, kiss her. If she says MAYBE, then say “Well lets find out” and kiss her. If she says NO, say “I wasn’t offering you just look like you wanted to.” Apparently these are the stock answers.
I grin, lean in and kiss her. Consciously avoiding her dress with the butt of my cigarette, I trace my hand down her back and rest it on her bottom. Fuck waiting till midnight, I’m in my element and I want all the dancers. We stop kissing. Her cigarette is almost burnt to the filter. “Wow. That was a bit unexpected.”
“You’re a really bad kisser did you know that?” I feel like playful insults shall be the form for the night.
“You’re terrible yourself.” She smiles with excitement. I want to go back inside, not to press my luck but wait till later. That actress is still down stairs and I want her number.
“I know, I’m a shit kisser, too much tongue. I’ll get better by midnight I promise. Come on, lets go back to them.” I gently direct her to go back in. One or two of the smokers have seen us kiss, they’re clearly impressed by the speed it took me to accomplish all that.
“Where are you going?” She looks at me throwing her fag away.
“I’m coming with you.”
“You want to watch me piss.”
We’re still outside and she’s looking at me now with a look of utter seriousness. “*******. I know about your medical issues. Sorry to be blunt about it but I do. However that doesn’t mean I don’t want you any less and I’ve been told you’re still great at other things so take me to the bathroom and fuck me however you can and then you can go around being the social magnet you seem hell bent on being.”
I wasn’t expecting such a well structured thought process from the girl I’d met only a week ago in pink lycra and a sweaty black top with the word ‘pineapple’ emblazoned on it. We went to a bathroom, shut the door and I slammed her up against it making the mirror shake as I proceeded to kiss her neck and slip my hand up her dress and inside her underwear. It didn’t take me long. We decided to repeat this again later, she pulled herself together and we returned downstairs to see photographer and Danielle in the same spot they were when we left for a smoke and an orgasm.
“Ah there they are.” Said Danielle watching us come down the stairs, her girlfriend giggling and smelling of tobacco. “Have you been smoking?”
”******* gave me a fag.”
“Can I have one, is that being awful of me?” said Danielle
“I guess so but you’ll have to sneak to the bathroom with me afterwards so I can get in your knickers. Deal?” Laurens eyes widened, photographer twigged something was up and her jaw dropped, her face was a mixture of jealous and impressed at how I’d managed to do something naughty with her ex while she was still trying to get Danielle to have a drink with her. Danielle seemed either oblivious or she knew and didn’t care. Either way she laughed.
“You’ll have to get me a few drinks before I go near a cock. Sorry honey.”
“Ah. I tried. Oh well, here you go. I’ll try again later.” I gave her a cigarette and then looked off into the room behind them, blonde actress looked bored and needed rescuing. “Right, see you guys in a minute, I’m going to talk to that blonde in there.” I stole the glass off Lauren, took a sip of her drink to taste it, then necked the whole thing in one before handing the empty glass back to her and heading off in the direction of the actress.
I went back and for between people, talked bollocks and kissed one or two other people including Danielle later on but some time o’clock early new years day Lauren had fallen asleep in bed after we’d been there for some time. Photographer and Danielle did eventually were next to her in the same bed and I crashed in the armchair in the corner of the room casually watching them, drinking whiskey and smoking a Marlborough light as the 6 bombs of MDMA sat neatly in my pocket untouched and unneeded. As I sat there close to falling asleep I heard photographer and Danielle chat and giggle and I’m almost certain some of my moves were replicated once or twice, I laughed quietly and blew a ring or two as my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was actress, “Had a mad night, was fun meeting you. Catch you soon?”
Where did it all go wrong hey?
overheard in hotel bar
Man: How long has it been?
Woman: 6 Months.
M: No sex in 6 months? You must be gagging for it.
W: You think?
M: Well you know we can get a room here right?
W: I’m fed up, not hard up.
My type of answer.
Amy and I are meeting for dinner and drinks in a fortnight when I’m back in London. I flirted outrageously over texts. She reciprocated.
It’s not that I’ve never wanted to fuck her, of course I have, it’s just that she was off limits. Normally this is an added lure for me. She has a boyfriend, want her more. She’s married, want her more. These are attracting to me as they’re social naughties I should stay away from not personal ones. What are my personal limits? Family, anyone of my friends ex girlfriends, anyone my friends are interested in, and of course anyone too young or anyone old in age but low in maturity. For example a 30 year old who posts her entire life, trouble by trouble in poorly articulated status updates intentionally vague of detail but clearly meant for someone to see before then responding to peoples concern with a comment that reads “Can’t say on here darling. It’s a bit too public. Will inbox you now.” are clearly not old enough to deal with a relationship let alone a one night stand.
Amy was always the girl my friend liked, then the girlfriend and then my friends ex. She was also my friend throughout but I’ve slept with friends before. It’s great fun and never been awkward. I refuse to let a friendship die just because you gave in to your long standing desire to do me! Back to the issue. She was tied to Pat but as he’s no longer a friend but a complete prick, she’s no longer off limits. Even if she has a new man in her life.
It wont be complete revenge, I’ve thought about it before and once or twice I was annoyed Pat and I were friends because it put her out of the equation. It’s wouldn’t just be revenge. She’s also still incredibly hot, like to flirt and I have a feeling she’d be utter filth in bed. All I really need is my dick to work and I’d fuck her now. Today. This second.
I have thinking to do. I don’t want to ruin a friendship with her and I don’t want to get into bed just because I think it’ll piss him off. So there’s a decision to make. Continue on and go for Amy or pay his sister Holly a visit…maybe his other sister Katie who’s 19 and in Uni. Maybe I’ll visit both of them, I’ve stayed at their family home and they’ve both seemed interested. Indulge in some utter filth with them and text him afterwards? He doesn’t see them much nor contact them but I know he’d burn from it.
meet pat…now i’m going to fuck his girlfriend
As you may know, when it comes to sex and relationships, I’m pretty good at it. I get whats going on and can get phone numbers/knickers off with fairly regular success. The same can be said for others when I chip in and guide them.
This year I’ve got people from both genders laid, in relationships, out of the wrong relationships and normally I’ve done it step by step, as they’re going through it. That’s where Pat and Amy come in. Amy is gorgeous, brunette, athletic, glamorous, balletic when she moves and possesses the dirtiest laugh with the poshest accent you’ve ever heard. She is the sort of person I’d flirt with and sneak off to a toilet with to have filthy, lust filled sex with were everything working. When I met her I’d only just met Pat.
Pat is a nice enough guy. Tall, blonde and in decent shape but then he does work hard in the gym 3 times a week. Pat has recently proved to be a sniveling little cunt who is so incredibly insecure about not having a six pack he takes these pills called Thermobol that do something magic with your body fat apparently but at £30 a bottle and after knowing the dick for 8 years they don’t seem to work unless you also go to the gym a lot.
I’m at a bar with Pat. He’s stood sheepishly behind Amy drooling away as I stood in front of her making her laugh constantly. She has hardly spotted Pat other than the odd misplaced snort of desperate attention seeking laughter from him. A clear and incredibly off putting signifier that he seeks her approval. “He’s doing it all wrong” I remember thinking. Pat and I had just met in uni. I was fucking his flatmate at the time and wanted that to continue especially as I was out with said residents of number 37, including the girl I was shagging, so I decided to step back and help Pat get Amy. I told him how to approach her, what to say, when to make a move and when to tell her they were going back to his. It worked (of course) and it was the next morning over breakfast that I saw our Amy, slightly disheveled and asking for a coffee. “What a waste” I thought, had it been my house, my kitchen she would have looked a lot more disheveled than that.
On it went. They saw each other again, and again, and long after I’d stopped having sex in the room above Pat’s but I liked Pat. I even stayed on their couch now and then. Yes ‘their’ as in Pat and Amy, living together. We’d go for drinks, I’d come round for dinner it was a dead cosy affair. 2 years ago they broke up. It was all very messy but I stayed friends with both of them because that’s what you do right?
Fast forward to this year, Pat has landed his dream job. He’s all set to start making a six figure annual salary and it’s in the high six figures so we went to celebrate. Then we saw her. Some random girl and Pat asked through drunken gaps “can you do your thing again?” What thing was that I implored. “Can you get me her? Go on.” The cunt saw me as some sort of evil Hitch.
“No Pat. You’re useless anyway.”
“I’m not the one with no dick.”
“No but from what I remember hearing you and Amy going at it you’re not that good at fucking even with a dick.” I placed it as a joke and so it was a little odd to hear the reply, so stinging and offensive.
“She enjoy it when you fucked her?”
“You, fucking Amy. What thought I didn’t know?”
“To be fair Pat, I don’t even know. Are you winding me up?”
“Fuck you *******! Of course you did. You fucked her every time my back was turned didn’t you? I’m not thick mate.”
I can categorically admit right here as I did to Pat. I had thought about it but would never do that to a friend.
“I know you did.”
“No Pat. I didn’t.”
“Not even after we’d finished? You two still being ‘friends’ and all. Thing is *******, I don’t care anymore, you’re welcome to her. I got money now so I don’t have to worry about who you get or who you want. I’ll just cock block you again!”
Again!? Again!? What did this mean? He expanded. He went on to tell me a list of people I’d liked, some very much so including one girl from Uni, Daisy, who I was a bit in love with and her, along with the other girls, were all told by him that I was a womanizer. Or I was riddled with STD’s or I’d slept with their friend after meeting them before then proceeding to fuck them and in the process, cheat on Amy. He smiled as he told me about possible relationships that had ended abruptly and reveled in it as if it were payback for all the times he’d thought I’d fucked Amy.
“So fuck you *******, I’ve been taking your failures for years.”
People had warned me about Pat. A guy who was two faced and purposely used people for his own needs. He had got this job by stopping his brother getting the interview. His own brother. Not only had he ruined my chances with a plethora of girls but one I quite cared about, turned them against me. No wonder Amy didn’t like him anymore. No wonder she’d felt taken in and tricked by him. This cunt was poison and now he’s in front of me, the two horned snake poking his tongue out and laughing at me. I can see him almost sniffing his fingers as if Daisy was still on them and taking pure delight knowing that for me that was some path to happiness but for him it was a sign of dominance, him chalking up a ‘w’ over me.I’d have punched him but he’s the sort of pussy who’d sue me.
Everything fell into place, including my scowl.
“A few times.”
“Thing is Pat. I never fucked Amy.”
“Yes you did, I know it.”
“No. I haven’t. But I will no.”
His face dropped. No more smile. No more wanker’s smirk.
“Go ahead mate, I don’t care anymore.”
“Course not. Because people who don’t care about things always bring them up drunkenly at 1 in the morning. What you should be worried about is the people I did fuck.”
His face drops again.
Holly is Pat’s sister.
“What about Holly?”
“I ruined her. I took her out for drinks and she was all over me. Told me I took her virginity.”
“You dirty fucking bastard.”
He rises to hit me.
“Go ahead fella.”
I’m shaking, I want him to go for me. I can hit him back right here in this bar and drop him even in front of the CCTV. Do you know if you punch someone with the open palm very hard into the face instead of a closed fist it counts as a slap and is therefore not worthy of time in prison? I do. People who know how to fight or have dodgy family’s clued up on avoiding criminal charges know this. This guy in front of me, this weasel knows nothing and if he wants to go I will turn him upside down.
“You didn’t fuck my sister.”
“I fucked her, I pulled her hair, tied her to the bed, teased her and fucked her for hours and she loved it.”
Was I lying? He’ll never know. He backed down and walked out. I text Amy this morning not to tell her what had happened but to say “Hey you, hows tricks bitch?”
No idea what I’ll do next but you don’t want to fuck me off.
pillow talk part ??, i don’t know, 100+ or something
Little Blonde Peep and I in bed sometime early morning after we’ve been there a considerable time. Long enough for my jaw to hurt and my hand to sting a little.
Little Blonde Peep: Fuck! Fuck. So I’ve not been spanked like that in years.
LBP: Nuh uuh.
LBP: My ex wasn’t really into it.
Me: How long were you with him?
LBP: 3 years. He isn’t that strong. You have nice arms though.
I was tensing, men tense.
Me: I know.
LBP: You’re modest aren’t you?
Me: That is modesty. I just agreed with you that’s all.
LBP: Oh, ok then.
Me: Also ‘nice; isn’t that conceited. “I have nice arms” is a pretty modest statement. It’s not like you said I have unbelievable arms. That I wouldn’t agree with, be far too cocky. Go on say I have unbelievable arms.
LBP: You have unbelievable arms.
Me: I know.
LBP: You’re funny. Want me to try sucking your dick again? You can’t still be that drunk.
I die a little inside.
Me: Go on then. If you must.
It doesn’t work, I end up going down on her again.She orgasms.
…and if you feel bad for me, don’t. I had a great night.
southbound at 4 am
Apparently in morning rush hour and a pure homage of London’s reliance on public transport, there’s an average of 2 millionaires per carriage on the underground but the same can not be said for the buses. No, there is a special caliber of person who takes the bus around London. I’ve seen violence, racism, sex, non social drug use, poor parenting and even on one occasion severely graphic self mutilation. Sometimes a gang will jump on to set you on edge but there’s this magical thing that everyone on London transport does in this and almost every other situation they find uncomfortable, they tune out. Headphones in, noses in newspapers or books or if they’re lucky they have a friend to chat to. Not me. I’m not saying I don’t have friends but I refuse to distract myself from all the other things going on because London is brilliantly bat shit crazy. Why would you choose to ignore it?
Our story begins waiting for a bus, We’ll call it the number 7777 from Phalantone Station towards Bang Grove. A made up number from an invented station to a leafy suburb I’ve just imagined to save any one knowing where I was the other weekend. It’s 2 in the morning, I’m waiting for a night bus going back to a friends flat. By this time, the underground is shut and so folks who don’t normally take the bus are forced to, they mix drunkenly with all the weirdness. I’m at Bang Station with a crowd of people all in fancy dress for Halloween but I was out with friends so there’s me in a blazer, burgundy sweater, pale blue shirt, boot cut jeans, dark brown brogues and a scarf but I’m fucking freezing. Time drags by monotonously but then I realise I’ve been there almost 2 hours. Yes it’s pushing 4 in the morning and the bus that is supposed to come every 5 minutes has now been absent for 2 fucking hours just long enough for her to arrive.
She wears a green beret just hiding bobbed blonde hair, light brown jacket, matching striped multi-pastel coloured scarf and gloves with what appears to be a Halloween outfit underneath. Possibly little Bo Peep or as I don’t see a cane to go with the ensemble some sort of maid outfit. I want her straight away. She stands at the stop looking up for bus times and see’s me wasting no time at all before starting with anything she can find to open a conversation.
Her: Are you getting the 7777?
My luck is in…
Me:Yes I am, to Bang Grove, you?
Her: Tinge Meadow. Only a stop or two before you.
Me: Look at you. You must be freezing.
Her: It’s a little cold yes.
Me: Right then, come here…
I open up my blazer and order her to hug me under my jacket as I wrap it around her, rubbing her through the jacket to keep her warm. See that? In less than a minute I’ve gone from her sheepishly chatting to me to now physically touching.
Her: You smell nice.
Me: I know.
Her: Oh you know do you?
Me: Hey, you think it too.
She giggles and I think turns a little red but it’s hard to tell in 4 am light. As we wait for the bus to come we discuss where we’ve been, where we’re going now. She’s heading home and I’m heading to a friends but the party will have died down there by this time so I’m thinking of getting a drink somewhere.
Her: I’ve got some rum at mine.
She blurts it out before she can stop herself. Too late. I know you want me. Yet she still tries to cover it up.
Her:…so yes. I’ll be fine for alcohol when I get in.
The bus arrives and we jump on scanning Oyster cards, find a seat next to each other and I very forwardly start “So are there any shops open by you? Only If we’re drinking rum straight I don’t want you falling asleep on me.”
Her: And what makes you think you’ll be having any of my rum? You’re going to your friends.
I mirror her smile and then lock eyes with her, leaning in with my lips dangerously close to her neck and I whisper in her ear, “Only once we go back to yours and I make you cum”
NOWIt goes without saying that this wouldn’t be the correct course to take with many people, it would indeed prove far too vulgar and direct but you always have to go with what feels right and go with your gut instinct. Normally this works for me…It always works for me.
The journey takes 20 minutes or so and we spend it throwing banter back and forth, the two of us decidedly less drunk than anyone else on the bus. We get off head to hers and I tell her I’m going to sit in the living room and wait for my rum.
Her: I don’t actually have any rum.
Me: Fine. Where’s your bedroom then?
We crash through the door making out as we slam into her wardrobe. She pulls at my scarf as I undo the buttons on her jacket to expose a blue checkered dress with a white frill, white knee length socks “Bo Peep” she says between breaths noticing my gaze at her costume. “It’s mine.” “Was it cheap? because it’s going to get ripped.”
I won’t go into full details of what happened, I don’t do that but I of course did my customary brewers droop routine to excuse my non erection before we indulged in a lot of foreplay, toys and a large amount of heavy spanking. She also had a tattoo of a flying delorean on her making her the hottest blonde 24 year old Bo Peep I’ve ever come across.
I spent the night. In the morning I woke her up with a cup of tea and I went down on her. She’d kept the white socks on. She told me that she’d only finished with her boyfriend in the week and wasn’t after anything but would love to meet up sometime again. I agreed. As I’m leaving she smiled at me and said “Mad, I never get the bus and if I do I usually just throw my iPod on.” We kissed, I left.
Stay observant people. You’ll never know who you’ll meet.
party hats people!
Today is day 1,000!
Yes it’s 1,000 days that’s 24,000 hours/1,440,000 minutes/86,400,000 seconds since the guy writing this post has had his dick inside a woman.
January 5th 2010. That was the last time I had full sex with someone. Now I can tell you my dick hasn’t been a stranger to the odd adamant woman’s mouth (“I bet I can get it up”) or hand but never hard and never for long.
Think of the last time you went without for a while and now imagine it was for 1,000 days. See why I’m so messed in the head right now? Seriously, I want to fuck every woman I know and see that is of legal age and that I’m not related to.
A landmark indeed.
Not knocking science or sitcoms but when most people hear ‘the big bang’, they’re wondering just how good I’d be in bed.