Uncertainty

This past week has been one of the most difficult weeks ever. At a time when I thought I’d be relaxing and enjoying my time off work, I’ve felt unbelievably stressed out and my mood has been all over the place. I’ve managed to stop crying so much, not sure I have anything left to cry out. I’m just exhausted.

I have no idea about anything at the moment as far as my relationship with Big Mean is concerned. Don’t know if it’s going to work out, don’t know whether I even want to stay with him or not, don’t know if we’re any good for each other and don’t know if we have far too many issues and should just agree to call it quits or whether to try and iron out our problems which will maybe make us stronger. One thing I do know, is that I have to stop blaming myself for everything. That may sound really arrogant and out of order coming from some one who cheated, but unlike Big Mean I am not a serial cheater and when I do it it’s usually for a fundamental reason. I need to work out what that reason is and whether it’s something we can change or whether this just simply isn’t right for me. And we as a couple both need to work out whether we can trust each other enough for it to work. I know I did wrong, but I don’t think I’ve ever truly believed that he’s been faithful to me all the way through this, simply because we’re friends of old and I know that he just doesn’t stay faithful to one person for very long. In a moment of anger last weekend he said I’d never find out whether he’d cheated because if he had, he’d cover his tracks so well that I would never know. Then some time this week he told me he absolutely hadn’t cheated. Also, his reaction to this is such that I wonder whether it comes out of some kind of guilty conscience and to be honest if I ever did find out he had cheated and he was putting me through this when he’d done the same thing it would be over before he’d even finished telling me about it. This week it’s been implied that I’ve slept around with other people before now, not just this one time and his paranoia is such that he fixates on little things, calls or emails I get from friends and starts to think I’m doing something I shouldn’t be doing. People that know us both really well, our closest friends have been wonderful through all this. My best friend and his best friend are a couple and they’ve known us both for years and they both seem to think that it could work really well between us if we get all this crap sorted out. But right now I’m not so sure. I’m just mentally tired of the whole thing. It’s just one thing after another, has been for months and I don’t even know if I should be with a man at all or whether I’m just cut out to emotionally work better with women.

We had a big chat yesterday morning about the physical side of our relationship too. Basically I’ve been struggling because when we have sex there’s very little foreplay. It’s all about his cock and a lot of the time I don’t feel physically ready, wet enough or open enough when he starts to fuck me because he hasn’t worked on other parts of my body enough to get me there. When we made love yesterday, I made him spend time on my body, stopped him when he aimed straight for my crotch, told him to take his time, get me ready first and it really really helped. We didn’t need to use lubricant at all, it was good for both of us, it didn’t hurt and by the time he actually fucked me I was begging for it which is the way it should be. He says it’s a different dynamic sleeping with a woman who has only ever slept with women and that he forgets that and gets lazy. That most of the other women he’s ever slept with thought that he was amazing with his fingers and cock and that he didn’t really need to do anything else. But I’ve just come from almost a decade of sleeping with women. Women who learn how to fuck with their fingers because fingers take on so much more importance when there isn’t anything else except toys to fuck with. I’ve come from an environment where each finger on one hand is doing something different. The thumb rubbing the clit, index finger on G spot, middle finger on A spot, little finger in ass, all those areas being stimulated at once and in different ways, pulsing, rubbing, stroking, circling, not just two or three fingers moving in and out without really touching the fundamental parts. And I’ve also come from a world where oral sex is equally as important as anything else. It’s not a privilege that you get every few weeks when your partner is feeling generous. It’s part of every day sex. In my world, you worship a woman with your tongue, show her how much you love the feel and taste of her. Not just on her clit but her thighs, her labia, her pelvic bone, her ass. And that’s also something we talked about yesterday.

And that’s just one aspect of our relationship that needs work. There are countless others. And I guess I have to work out whether I want to work on it or whether we should just quit while we’re so evidently not ahead and I should go back to being with women. Who knows. For now, when I go away this week I’m going to just stop thinking about it because it’s starting to drive me mad and I feel inclined to call it a day just to get it out of my head. There’s no denying that we love each other, but is love really going to be enough?

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Shameful Actions

I just tried to write a whole big blog post about what has happened over the past couple of days, and I just can’t. I’m sick to my stomach and am so full of self loathing and disgust right now that I wish I could get out of my own head.
The fundamentals are that after a fight Big Mean and I had last week I slept with a woman. I didn’t tell him, didn’t ask him, just did it, knowing full well what I was doing but never imagining the consequences.
Big Mean found out. I’m a terrible liar, but instead of being totally honest with him I was a coward and told him bits at a time until he had to drag it out of me. Then he left me. Said it was over, that I’d fucked it, that there was no going back from this. Took all his stuff and left me , the pathetic person that I am, crying, begging and apologising as he walked out the dorr. After going through my phone he texted the woman I’d slept with, told her that if she didn’t tell her boyfriend what we’d done, he’d make sure he found out anyway. I’ll never forget the absolute hurt and anger I saw in him, can’t believe I did that to him. After months of wanting us to be official, months of building up trust, months of him slowly letting down his guard, I did this. I could see him thinking that he’d known he shouldn’t let me in, shouldn’t open up and it killed me.

After some time had passed, I’ve no idea how long, he came back. We talked and talked and he said that if we both got ourselves sorted out, both went to see some one, to deal with the countless issues we’ve had to face over the past 8 months then it might work out, if he could get past the paranoia that he knew would take over now that I’d betrayed him. By this time it was Saturday afternoon and we were both exhausted. Hadn’t eaten, had hardly slept, I’d cried so much I was sick and so we went to bed and slept. Then when we woke we made love, kind of hesitantly, both of us not being sure how it would feel now. I cried when I came. I cried when he came, told him over and over how much I loved him and how sorry I was that I’d done this.

I’m still not sure we’ll be ok and he won’t change his mind. In the middle of the night last night he started asking questions again about what it was like, whether I’d enjoyed it, said he could smell us on my bed. I didn’t know what to say, just held him and silently prayed that we can get through this somehow. I feel terrible as well about the woman. None of this is her fault really, well I guess the main thing is that she didn’t tell her boyfriend just like I didn’t and now she’s forced too because if she doesn’t, he will. I can’t believe we were both so stupid as to believe that this wouldn’t bring consequences for our relationships.

I feel sick to my stomach. I’m disgusted with myself, scared shitless by the extent of my actions. I’m not a cheat. Have only ever done so once in my life before and it tore me up. I don’t recognise the person I am, who I’ve turned in to because to do something like that sure as hell isn’t me and isn’t the person I want to be either. I love him to death. Nothing means anything unless we’re ok. And in trying to hurt him, I’ve hurt myself and damaged the relationship to the extent that I’m not sure we’ll ever get it back to the way it was, or not for a long time at least. When he left to go to band practice this morning I felt terrified, afraid that he wouldn’t come back, that once away with time to think he’ll decide that actually he can’t do it. And who could blame him really? I’m ashamed, disgusted, sickened by the fact that through my careless actions I’ve partly, if not totally destroyed my relationship with the man I think of as my mirror image. I don’t believe in a God, but I hope that whatever is out there, whether it’s fate or what, gives us the chance to grow and learn from this as a couple and that he won’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without him and this has certainly made me realise that for all his faults, I love and need him more than I think I’ve ever done anyone before.

For now I don’t know how to escape my own head. How to get rid of the images that are playing over and over of him walking out, cold and hurt and the sick feeling in my stomach. I hate myself right now, hate what I’ve done to us, to him, to the woman and her relationship. What on earth were we thinking? He’s my world and I almost lost him, still might. I have to live with that now and I’ll never forgive myself for this. I just hope he can find it in his heart to forgive me, or at least move on so that we can put it behind us.

Shape up or Ship out

We had another fight last night. I was still feeling a bit miffed about Monday, but we’d been chatting and I asked him to come along to my leaving drinks after work. I’ve been wanting to introduce him to my colleagues for ages, we usually talk about our partners and I thought it would be good to have him there as well. Really nice for me. He said he would come along and that he would call me when he was leaving. I didn’t hear a thing from him all night. I called, left messages, texted him, nothing. Everyone was asking me where he was and I had no answer to give them because I didn’t know. I felt like a fool. Hurt, let down and stupid for believing he actually would show up. I didn’t dare get too drunk although that had been my intention because I knew I would either cry, or flip. When I got home I called him again and this time withheld my caller ID. He answered. Said he’d fallen asleep and had just woken up. I hung up and when he called me back I fought to control my anger and told him not to call or text or email me, not to come and see me and to leave me alone for a while. He said fine and hung up.

After a while he called me back and we ended up spending an hour on the phone. I couldn’t hold back and let him have it. Told him I’d had enough of feeling let down or hurt by one thing or another that he kept on doing, whether it was intentional on his part or not. Said that if he couldn’t step up to the plate and give me what I needed I would go find some one who could. Told him just to say so if he didn’t want to be with me. Told him to shape up, or ship out. At first he told me to stop being over dramatic, but when he realised that I was serious, which I absolutely was, he backed off and apologised. Have no idea what’s going to happen, but if he doesn’t stop acting like a total twat every few weeks I’m going to call it a day. As much as I love him, I don’t want to be with some one who I can’t rely on and who doesn’t give me what I need in a relationship.

I don’t think I’m asking too much. Maybe I am high maintenance, but all I want is some one who is there for me. Some one who responds to my texts, some one who makes me feel special, who comes through for me, puts themselves out for me, not all the time but on the odd occasion when I ask. Some one who doesn’t fall asleep when they’re supposed to be meeting me and some one who cares about the way I feel. If he can’t be that, then I’m with the wrong person. In the first few weeks after we got back together he was amazing. Caring and attentive, texted me to see how I was when I was at work, paid attention to stuff I said, listened to me more, made love to me like he really wanted to and not just because I wanted it. It was fine. But if I’m going to have to keep reminding him to pull his socks up every month or so, he’s obviously not doing it naturally, he’s having to make himself do those things. And I don’t want that. So… who knows. I guess we’ll see how it goes. But every time I feel hurt or upset or let down, I start shutting off from him more and more and eventually there’ll be no more shutting off to do and that’ll be it. That’s how I work. I hope we don’t get to that point, hope he steps up and starts automatically considering me as well as himself. We’ll see.

Primal

I’m at that point again. It’s been four days and the craving is ridiculous. It’ll be over a week by the next time we see each other, and if I jump him like I used to when we first got together I’ll more than likely be told to stop pressuring him. And maybe I do, but wanting it never used to be an issue, not when my body was all he thought about. I can’t handle the waiting, it’s too much.

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The Best Laid Plans

I was so excited about seeing Big Mean today. Had woken up this morning really not wanting to go to my job for the last week I have there, but feeling ok because I knew we’d be seeing each other later on after a weekend not really communicating because we both had important things to do. He’d been with his band out of town and I’d been flat hunting, actually finding one I really liked and putting the deposit down on it today. I was thrilled and called him at lunch time to tell him and to see when he’d be arriving back from his parents house. By the end of the conversation my high spirits had dropped. He sounded like he was distracted, wasn’t really very thrilled about meeting up and got off the phone quickly. I called again at around four to see if he was on the train and he hadn’t even checked the times, knowing that he needed to meet me as he had my keys. He finally met me at the tube just after six, no hug or kiss and I could tell he was in a bad mood. On the way home I told him about the flat and the only comment he made really was to rant about how close we would be living and what a bad idea it was. I felt totally confused, I mean a week ago we’d seriously been talking about moving in together, and now I was living too close? What the fuck? Absolutely crushed by now I pushed him away when he asked for a cuddle, my feelings hurt. For the rest of the evening I fumed and he fell asleep, obviously tired from the weekend which made me even more mad. I’d had this picture in my head all day at work. He would be there when I got home. We would strip off and jump in to bed together, hold each other and kiss. Then I would ask him to tell me all about his weekend and I would go down on him while he talked and suck him until he couldn’t talk anymore. Then we would make love, tender and slow and afterwards we would doze and I would get up and make dinner for us both and we would spend the rest of the evening chatting and laughing. That’s what I wanted. Instead I got a cranky, tired visitor who when he finally left in a cab after a fight made me cry. I watched him go out the window, hoping he’d pay off the driver and come back inside. Instead he got in the car and as he drove off I slammed the window and wished I didn’t allow him the power of changing my mood so drastically. When he got home he called me and after I’d finished on the phone with a friend I called him back. We talked awkwardly for a minute or so and then said goodnight. I called him back a few minutes later and we apologised to each other and made up. I hate fighting with him, with anyone in fact and especially with him. And I never feel completely ok again until we’ve cuddled and made love and reconnected. This week is hectic for me. I have something on every night and so won’t see him until the weekend. So now I’m off to bed alone, unfulfilled both physically and emotionally, an ache where there should be a feeling of bliss and relaxation. I didn’t want to sleep alone tonight. I wanted him to make me feel amazing and instead I feel angry and disappointed. Maybe I feel too much and I’ve fallen too hard.

Junky

I can’t stop thinking about last night and this morning. I think I’m obsessed with the way he makes me feel when he touches me, when he’s inside me. How it’s like with every trust, every kiss he’s somehow stimulating my emotions and my heart or brain or whatever it is that makes you feel love just as much as he’s stimulating my body. Last night I came quick, a long, slow orgasm while I was riding him and afterwards he spooned me, sliding in from behind, grabbing my hips, pulling my hair which he never does and slaping my ass. Coming up over my hip, forcing me over on to my front where I begged him “please fuck me hard oh God get up in there and fuck me.” He makes me crazy. Makes me say things witout even thinking, makes me beg for it and give myself up to him and the pleasure he gives me. This morning when we woke I was still as horny as hell and I could feel his cock growing hard as we cuddled. We made love again, again I came on top, and afterwards we did it missionary. The feeling in me is the strongest when I know he’s about to come. When I feel that final growing hardness, the throbbing, the pulsing before the orgasm comes. That’s when I usually want to cry because it’s so insense. This morning as he came he left me suddenly, moved up over my body and let his orgasm flow all over me, my stomach, thighs, breasts and shoulders. It was the hottest thing ever. I lay there, feeling the warmth of it on my skin. I’d wanted him to do that to me last night, to squirt all over my back when we did it doggy, and this morning it was like he’d read my mind. I was late for work and I didn’t care.

Now my mother is here. She’s visiting for the weekend and we’re going flat hunting tomorrow. He’s with the band all weekend starting to record the album so I won’t see him until Monday. And all I can think about is the way he made me feel when we fucked, made love, screwed, had sex, whatever you want to call it. My pussy still craves him. I’m sore, but somehow want more. Feel like I could come and come and come with him inside me. Like that’s the perfect state of existance. That pure extasy, skin on skin, hardness and softness, the smell and feel of him. If I was mildly addicted to sex before he came along, I’m now an absolute junky. He’s got me hooked, forever craving that sensation of body, heart and mind all being simultaneously stimulated. Damn… I can’t even masturbate and cunjur up the feelings and images in my mind because my mother is here all weekend. I get the feeling that by Monday I’ll be ready to jump him the minute he walks through the door.

All Change Please

I’ve got a new job!!! Yay!!! And not only is it a new job, it’s a new job in a swanky investment bank at Canary Wharf. When I went for the interview last Tuesday I never thought in a million years they’d offer me a position. I’m not from a financial background, have always worked in the third sector and well, just generally don’t have much experience. But, they obviously saw something in me when I was interviewed and I’m due to start in September. Fuck me! So, I have two weeks left at work and then a month off to basically get my life sorted out before I start. It’ll mean a few things. The first and most important is that I need to move house. Canary Wharf is miles away from where I am at the moment and I don’t really want a three hour round trip for a commute every day, so I’m going to move closer. I went to see a flat on Saturday but didn’t like it and plan to do viewings at the weekend to hopefully try and find something suitable. Weirdly Big Mean is also looking for a flat and he liked the one we saw on Saturday, so he’s taken that one. When I arrived home on Friday night, slightly tipsy from Caroline’s house warming party that I’d gone to with Baby G, we were talking about moving houses and the conversation went something like this:
Me: Everyone keeps asking me why we don’t just move in together.
Big Mean: Yeah me to.
*short pause*
Big Mean: Well… I mean… do you want too?
Me: Whaat? Move in together?
Big Mean: Well, yeah.
Me: Um, *freaking out slightly* no, it’s far too soon.
Big Mean: Yeah I guess so.
Me: Well do YOU want to?
Big Mean: I wouldn’t mind, and that’s saying something cus I didn’t imagine wanting to live with some one for a long time. But the idea isn’t actually so scary.
Me: *sweating* um… well, I mean it’s not that I don’t want to live with you, I do, but it’s far too soon. It would kill the spark, we’d see each other every day and I’d end up doing everything around the house.
Big Mean: No you wouldn’t!
Me: Yes I would. I’d come home from work and you’d be sitting there not dressed, playing computer games or whatever. You wouldn’t cook or anything.
Big Mean: I’d clean.
Me: Hmmm. Stop it, you’re freaking me out.
Big Mean: It would make sense financially too.
Me: I don’t want to do it for financial reasons. I want to do it because we think it’s a good next step for the relationship, not to save money. You’d get bored of me very quickly I know you would.
Big Mean: Hmmm, maybe you’re right.
Me: Can we change the subject? It’s freaking me out. I never expected to be having this conversation.
Big Mean *sounding a little hurt* Yeah sure, I mean, if you’re not ready it’s fine.
Me *in exasperation* And neither are you! You’d hate it!
Big Mean: Would I?
Me: Yes you would. Imagine not missing each other, sleeping in the same bed every night, falling in to that kind of routine. I’ve done it before and I wasn’t planning on doing it again this quickly.
Big Mean: Ok, if you’re sure.
Me: You’d shit yourself if I said yes anyway.
Big Mean: Would I?
Me: Yes! Ok, let’s move in together.
Big Mean: You’re only saying that to get a reaction.
Me: Look, it’s a bad idea. We’re not ready yet. If it was in a year’s time I’d be saying yes. Probably. But not now.
Big Mean: OK, that’s fine.

Despite my protests on Saturday morning we did have a quick look at how much two bedroomed flats would cost and financially it really would benefit the both of us. Big Mean even called up and tried to arrange viewings for some of them until I talked him out of it. And everyone has kept on about it, from my boss at work to our friends and even my mother. Talk about pressure! We’ve both agreed that it’s not the right time though and if in six months or a year’s time we find that we’re practically living at each other’s houses then maybe we’ll reconsider. As it is, getting flats minutes apart from each other is the way forward.

My finances are going to be terribly affected over the next month or so. I need to fork out for some new suits, there’ll be an overlap in rent for the place I’m in now and the new one, I’ll probably have to pay agents fees and a removal company to come get my stuff, then there’s being out of work for a month so I’ll lose a wage packet, and I’m going on holiday in September. Jesus!

I am counting the days left at my current job. With only 9 days left I’m not being given much new stuff to do, so I’m even more bored than usual. Mainly clock watching and surreptitiously flat hunting when the boss isn’t around and waiting for five PM every day. Can’t wait to finish! This weekend my mother is visiting and we’re going flat hunting together and I really really hope I find somewhere I like, although I know that’s optimistic.

Off to get an early night now as it’s been so hot over the last couple of days that trying to sleep has been a nightmare. I even insisted that Big Mean go home last night because I didn’t want to share my bed with another person’s body heat. OOO, and my Hitachi Magic Wand plus G Pod has arrived from the US, I just need to get a UK power supply converter before I can test out what is supposed to be one of the best sex toys on the market. Will leave you with that thought…
Oh, I just remembered. Something weird… three people who I haven’t spoken to in over a year contacted me within the space of 24 hours. The first one was a nice surprise, the second one was a bit of a coincidence but by the third one I started to get a bit weirrded out. Must be something in the planets.

Hollywood in London

“Oh my God! I don’t think I have a vagina anymore. I just got waxed by a militant Greek lesbian!” I wailed to my friend Kim on the phone. She’d called me as I was on my way out of the beauty salon after getting a Hollywood wax for the first time on Friday. As far as I’m concerned it should be called a Holywood because holy fuck it was painful! How I didn’t sware, or punch the woman doing it I’ll never know because both were very tempting. And when she said, “shall I do your bottom as well?” It was the first time I thought about saying know to that question. I was brave however and did as I was told, flipped on my front, ass in the air preparing for more excrutiating pain. That part wasn’t too bad surprisingly enough and I think she thought I was a total wimp, at one point stopping her when she plucked a few stray hairs from my inner labia. “I want to make it perfect,” she said, carrying on regardless and I thought my god, the things we do to get the perfect pussy. When I’d got home however and peeled off my nickers which were sticking to the excess wax, and washed myself with soap and water and thoroughly moisturised my now numb nether regions, I did like the result. I usually shave it all off anyway and waxing seems to leave a much smoother finish and it hasn’t started growing back yet which is great because I get stubbly within a day of shaving. Everyone tells me that the first time is the most painful, so hopefully I’ll agree if and when I go back for a second round of torture. “My name is Natalie,” the woman said when she had finished and I wondered why she was telling me that. Maybe so that i could tell the hit man later?

I didn’t dare go to the gym until today for fear that either swimming or moving around on a bike would irritate the skin too much, plus I was with Big Mean and feeling lazy. but this afternoon I dragged myself out the house and did a spinning class. While I sprinted, climbed hills, raced, whacked up the resistance and hovered, the muscles in my legs straining to keep time with the beat of the music my mind wondered back a few hours to the sex we had that morning. There’s nothing like Sunday morning sex, it’s one of my favourite times to make love and we’d set the alarm to go off early to give us time to spend in bed. As I hovered over my bike seat, legs working hard, hips moving side to side, leaning forward over the handle bars, my hair in my face and sweat on my forehead, feeling the moisture between my legs from where he came inside me earlier I relived those minutes spent in a similar position on top of him. The feel of him inside me, the way I raised and dropped on to him, driving him crazy until I felt him start to lose control and the orgasm start to overtake him. It was quick this morning, but not at all disappointingly so. I love making him come in that position because I’m the one in control. I get a thrill when he grabs my hips, forcing me up and down, trying to make me fuck him faster, pushing up in to me, his arms wrapped tight around me, kissing me deep and hard. We spent a lot of the weekend in bed this time, both of us tired from the previous week, sleeping, talking and making love. On Friday night we had dinner with W and Baby G and slept more or less as soon as we got home around midnight. Then yesterday we got up to eat breakfast and then went back to bed. He licked my coco buttered softness, teased my swolen clit until I almost came, then he fucked me, making me come twice. Afterwards we fell asleep again and didn’t wake until the early evening, both of us a bit annoyed that we’d let the day go by. We cooked stir fry and spring rolls together, then headed over to see Rids and CC where he again kicked my ass at Wee Boxing, I drank a bottle of wine to myself and we caught up on how our friends were doing. Tipsy, we arrived back at my place by midnight, he’d wanted to stay over again and despite me longing for an undisturbed night’s sleep which I don’t really get when he’s here because he’s a bit of an insomniac, I agreed because I didn’t want him to go home just yet. The weekends always go so damn fast, especially when we’re together.

This afternoon after I got back from the gym I lay around and watched TV for most of the afternoon, then cleaned my kitchen and dinner is in the oven as I write. I can’t help wishing he was still here, although I know I need an early night if I’m to function propperly at work tomorrow. This week I have a job interview on Tuesday with an investment bank, *quake*, on Friday it’s Caroline’s house warming party and on Saturday it’s Doctor T’s birthday and I think we’re going out for dinner and drinks.

Oh, and may I add that that quotation I used in my last post wasn’t supposed to be a generalisation, it struck a chord with me because I guess it’s the way I feel sometimes when Big Mean and I make love. Of course I know that women can fuck, I’ve done it enough times without much emotion, but this time it’s different. Whenever I give myself to him, I really am offering up all my love and trust and I do think often that I hope he never does anything to undermine that. Just for clarification.

For a woman, the need for love moved us in to the realms of sex. Took us where we felt good. Where we felt special. Where we bared ourselves, and each moan was a moan of trust. Each moan asking that we not be betrayed. My song was soft yet lyrical and astounding. It wasn’t the moans, but the space between those moans that told what was in my heart. Those spaces were my soul.

(in: Pleasure, by Eric Jerome Dickey)

The Devil in me part two

I can be devilishly naughty when it comes to sex and there’s not much I either haven’t done or wouldn’t do with a fully grown adult human being. I have been described as “kinky”, “dirty,” “filthy,” “adventurous” “too much to handle,” “an animal in bed,” and so on. I’m not writing this to make you think I’m some kind of goddess, temptress like creature, I’m talking about it because sometimes my naughty side can be my downfall. I’ve had sex on the first date, quite a few times actually and always felt afterwards that I should have been more reserved and made them wait a bit longer. I’ve had threesomes, I’ve been in group situations, I’ve cheated and cut some one’s lunch, i.e. been the other woman. I’ve slept with mainly women but now also men, I fantasised about sex from as far back as I can remember, as a kid not knowing what this hot feeling was between my legs but which I later discovered to be horniness and a need to be fucked. Sex has always been a part of my life and most of the time it’s great, but sometimes my libido is a vice. I’ve met women on the internet and fucked them a couple of hours after talking to them because I’ve been so damn horny. I’ve driven my partners to distraction with my incessant need to come, I’ve been made at times to feel like I’m abnormal and like I shouldn’t think about it and want it so much.

Last night was one of those situations. I’d been to Sean’s birthday drinks which were out of town and I’d asked Big Mean to dog sit for me at my flat, meaning that he would get the evening to himself to do what he wanted. I’d had a lovely time at Sean’s and wished that I’d been able to stay later instead of having to get the train back to London, but at the same time I was looking forward to getting home to Big Mean. I’d been horny all day and suggested going back to bed that morning for another round but he wasn’t in the mood and so I’d promised to do some very bad things to him when I got home. But when I walked through the door he was busy on the computer, helping a friend write some programme script or other and he hardly acknowledged my presence for the first ten minutes of my being there. By this time I was quite pissed off at not getting the welcome home I’d been looking forward to and when he finally did ask for a cuddle I froze him out and marched in to the bathroom to take off my make up. Glass of Bailies in hand a few minutes later I sat down on the couch next to him and proceeded to be ignored for a further half an hour or so while he worked, by now starting to feel deflated. I also discovered that he’d been working on them for the past four hours and hadn’t eaten, showered or done anything else really and now knowing that I wasn’t going to get my romantic, naughty night in bed with him the anger began to take hold. He ordered food after midnight and then fell in to bed feeling too sick to do anything. We argued off and on until three in the morning, both of us telling the other how selfish they were, me at one point trying to make myself come when he fell asleep, only to have him wake up and tell me to stop shaking the bed around. And this is what the post was originally meant to be about, because if I get horny and need to come I cannot think about anything else. I lay there, not being able to sleep, throbbing and dying to having him touch me, my own fingers refusing to get me there because it was him I wanted, to feel his lust, his desire and how much he wanted to fuck me. When he refused, I asked, begged him to use his fingers and again he refused. I felt like some kind of crazy maniacal nymph. I finally fell asleep feeling frustrated with a hint from him of sex in the morning but when we woke up he was tired and I was still in a rage, even more so knowing that he would be too sleepy to fulfil his half promise. So, we argued some more and I honestly didn’t calm down until he went to run a bath and I finally made myself come. The crazy thing is that he could have done it in minutes last night and I would have been fine after that, but because he refused to I became fixated with needing to fuck him and this is what I mean by the Devil in me.

I seriously wish there was a pill I could take that would lower my libido. He hates that when I want it it’s all I can think about, he’s not really one of these people who will get me off even if he’s not in the mood and so we end up clashing really badly. “Most men would give their right arm to have a woman who was up for it all the time,” I stormed at him this morning.
“Well go and find one then!” He shouted. It’s times like that when I get sick of being in my own head. If he’s not in the mood that’s fair enough, but something in me can never let it go. I become like a woman obsessed, a demon thing until I’m fucked and the need in me goes away. We never did have sex in the end, I managed to come and that abated the craving enough for me to spend the next hour or so with him without trying to get it, but when he left I still felt disconnected because we hadn’t made up by making love. It also didn’t help that an ex fuck of his called his phone last night and left him a message saying that she wanted him to go over to her house and “fuck the pants off her”. He thought it was funny and it just pissed me off completely. I told him he wouldn’t like it if one of my ex’s left me a message like that as he listened to the voicemail for the second and third time. Talk about making some one feel unloved and unwanted, he did a fine job last night, although I admit I turned in to the bitch from hell.

Oddly, he texted me an hour ago and the text read, “feel free to say no, but I was just thinking it might be worth heading to yours for a few hours after band practice to finish off the weekend on a better note and maybe give you something to send you off to sleep a happier horrid?”
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted and of course accepted, but whaat? This morning he’s totally not up for it and an hour after he leaves he’s asking to come back and hinting about sex? Is it a power thing or what? Is it because he’s now the one doing the asking, meaning that he’s in control? Heaven only knows, but I do know one thing. If he comes over tonight and doesn’t give me the fuck of a lifetime, I will be a woman with a licence to kill.

And I think I should probably look deeper in to why I simply cannot function without sex, I should have been born in the period of the Libertines!

The Devil in me part one

We were in the bath together and it was Friday night and I was feeling great. I’d spent my week off reading, relaxing, job hunting and going to the gym. Now he was here and we were going to spend the best part of the weekend together. We were talking about sex, having the “what really turns you on?” kind of conversation and the issue of anal sex came up again. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like it to happen all the time, not even a lot in fact, but every once in a while is nice and we’d only ever done it once in the seven months we’ve been physical with each other. He was saying how squeamish he was about it and I was trying to allay his fears and saying that he had to concentrate on the feel of it rather than what he was actually doing. He didn’t sound convinced though and I began to worry that it would be something we’d just never do.

Later on in bed I rode him hard. His cock was thick and rock solid and he had his arms wrapped tight around me. As I got close to the edge he pulled my head down and kissed me really deep, and the shock of it mixed with the butterflies it gave me sent me spinning over the edge and I was crying out in to his mouth and coming hard. Afterwards he spooned me, rubbing his sex all over mine and then sliding in deep, one hand on my clit. It felt so good, but it wasn’t my pussy that I wanted him to fuck this time, it had been three months and I wanted it bad, very bad. Knowing that I should really ask first but knowing that he would also decline, I took him in my hand and told him to let me control the speed and movement. I rubbed him all over me again, but this time I moved down the bed slightly and took him upwards so that he was pressing against my ass. He moaned with pleasure as I began to take him in and I warned him not to push, to let me control it. Thinking I was just playing some kind of power game he let me and before long I was open and relaxed and he was fucking me hard. I experienced double pleasure, the feel of him inside me and the fact that he hadn’t yet figured out that we weren’t fucking the conventional way. At one point he reached around to play with my clit and I stopped him knowing that he would soon figure it out of he touched my pussy. I wanted him to come, wanted to feel him come there, an experience I’ve not yet had, wanted to make him eventually tell me what he was doing, talk dirty in my ear while he pulled my hair and fucked my ass, make me in to his naughty girl. But I knew he wasn’t ready for that yet, knew that I was going to have to take it slow with him, make him focus less on the act and more on the feel of how tight I was around him and how amazing it felt, and judging by the noises he was making and the way he was grabbing my hips and breasts he certainly was enjoying himself.

“I don’t think I can come on my side,” he said, “can you lie on your front?”
I obliged, sticking my ass in the air, surreptitiously making sure he was totally clean before letting him fuck my pussy this time. As a tester as he was about to slide in I said, “fancy fucking my ass?”
“No,” he said, and I almost giggled with the knowledge of what he’d just done. I’d got my thrill and he didn’t even know it yet. He came taking me doggy style and afterwards made me come again with his fingers. When we were lying together, both satiated I gently told him what I’d done, a little afraid that he would completely freak out and be disgusted and annoyed. Instead he seemed mildly surprised and a bit shocked that he hadn’t realised, but said it had felt good and he’d enjoyed it. I felt relieved and very, very satisfied. “I won’t ask you to do it for another three months now,” I said happily and he seemed ok with that. I fell asleep in his arms that night with every part of my body tingling.

Week off!

This week I am on annual leave and so that means no work woop woop! I’ve had a lovely week so far although I can’t believe it’s already Wednesday tomorrow, I don’t want to go back next week.

On Saturday I got up and went to the gym for a cycle class and then in the evening I met Caroline for an early dinner and drinks. We went to a rather swanky bar south of the river and had pasta and cocktails, yum yum. But we’d met at six and by nine we were both full and woozy from the cocktails and so decided to head home for an early night. Big Mean had called and left a message earlier asking if I wanted to meet up but it took me a couple of hours to respond, by which time he’d decided to stay another night at his parents house. I was mildly pissed off at my not responding, but decided to make the most of some time alone and started reading Sleeping Cruelty by Linda La Plante which is proving to be very good. On Sunday morning I was rudely awakened by Big Mean calling my phone, “I’ve overslept,” he said, “I’m never going to make it to band practice on time if I go all the way back to my house. Can I come to yours for a shower?” “Yes,” I said sleepily, thinking I would get up and make us both breakfast for when he got here and was secretly thrilled by the prospect of seeing him. An hour later he called back, “forget it,” he said miserably, “we haven’t even left yet, I’m gonna have to go straight there. I’ll meet you later though if you want.” Wide awake by this time I got up and went to the gym and did two classes one after another and by the time I’d finished I was half dead and very hungry. I called Big Mean to see where he was and having just finished practicing with the band he said he’d head over to my house – he now has his key back which he’s very pleased about. I went to the supermarket on the way home and picked us up some steak, a bottle of wine, some Irish Cream liqure, a chocolate cake and some vanilla ice cream. By the time he arrived dinner was almost ready and we stuffed ourselves full and then cuddled up on the sofa to doze and watch tv. Later he had a two hour long bath while I house hunted for him on the net and by the time we got in to bed it was after one in the morning and of course we didn’t sleep for another hour or so after that. He did pretend to fall asleep however knowing that I wanted sex and just when I thought he really had gone to sleep he said, “turn on your side.”
“No,” I said, “You’re going to sleep and I don’t want you too.”
“Turn on your side and we’ll see what happens,” he said.
“You’ll cuddle up to me and go to sleep, that’s what’ll happen,” I said, not trusting him.
So I turned on my side facing away from him and he spooned me, kissing my back. Then his hands started wondering down my body and within minutes I was wet and he was pressing his cock in to my lower back and I was aching to have him inside me. He slid in from behind and I put my hands on the wall, prepelling myself back on to him, slow at first then harder and faster, loving the feel of him inside me. Then he reached around to my clit and stroked it and fucked me until I came in that position, a long, deep fulfilling orgasm, him coming while in the missionary position a few minutes later.

Yesterday we slept in late and then went to get hair cuts at a salon near my house and then we spent the rest of the day in my flat is the weather was terrible. I gave up on the idea of going to the gym again and he decided not to go to the Jason Mraz gig that I didn’t end up getting a ticket for, so I cooked us another lovely dinner of chicken and rice, followed by more cake and ice cream left over from the day before and then we cuddled up on the sofa and watched a documentary on the July 7th tube bommings. It unnerves me slightly everytime I watch something like that, I travel that particular route to work everyday and the thought of that happening is just inconceivable really. After the documentary finished we snuggled up in bed and made love again. I rode him hard and fast and came on top of him, something I’ve started doing a lot lately which is unusual. Then I was on my back with my legs on his shoulders and he was fucking me deep. He finally came fucking me from behind and afterwards we lay and chatted for ages before falling asleep, him spooning me which is something I find makes my stomach flip over every time he does it.

One of the things we were chatting about is a skiing trip that Big Mean, myself, Baby G and her boyfriend W are planning for next February. It looks like it’s going to actually happen and we’re all getting pretty excited about it. The plan is to go to Utah for a week and do some cross country skiing which would be amazing. Baby G and I have never skied before and Big Mean and W have limited experience and the whole thing just sounds like great fun as well as a chance for Big Mean and I to go away together, with our best friends as well. Lying in bed last night, Big Mean deliberated over what is to him the terrifying prospect of flying.
“What if I die?” he said. “You won’t,” I said. “More people die in car accidents than in plane crashes and you don’t think about dying every time you get in to a car do you?”
*long pause*
“But what if we crash in to the ocean and drown? I don’t want to drown.”
“We won’t!” I said again, “stop thinking about it, you’ll be fine.”
*another long pause*
“but what if there’s turbulence? I won’t like that.”
“If there’s turbulence, it won’t last long and you can just drink plenty of Bailies and you’ll be fine. You’ll be asleep within five minutes of taking off anyway, you know you will.”
“Hmm,” he said.
Then about five minutes of silence passed by until he said, “but what if…”
“Shut up!” I finally said in exasperation. “Go to sleep and stop thinking about it, it’ll be fine, we won’t die and we’ll have a lovely holiday. Besides, we’ve got lots of baby making to do yet so you can’t die.”
“Well if I do it’ll be your fault and I’ll blame you,” he said.
“Fine,” I said, “You can shout at me all you like when we’re in heaven.”
“I’m definitely not going to heaven,” he said. “Me neither,” I chuckled and kissed him before he finally spooned me and we fell asleep.

This morning we woke at around ten and both of us being aware that he’d spent two days at my house without going home, he went back to his house and I went off to the gym for another cycle class. This afternoon has been spent job hunting, I’ve applied for three jobs today which is good and also looking at flights for our skiing trip. I don’t have a lot else planned for the rest of this week, neither of my parents can make it down to London after all and despite my mother’s protests I am not going up to see my family because that’ll be half the week gone and I won’t have done anything productive. I’m loving having time off though, I can lay in bed late, especially when Big Mean is here, go to the gym, read lots and just generally potter around which is great. I hope the weather brightens up a bit though, it’s rained for the past two days which is rubbish! I think I can allow myself to read some more of my book considering I’ve done several hours of job hunting, plus a work out today, so for now it’s back to that. Oh, and thinking about that gorgeous man of mine who makes me smile more and more these days.

Great Things

Yesterday four great things happened. One was that I went on annual leave for ten days so didn’t have to go to work today, woo! The second thing was that I managed to get a ticket to see Jason Mraz’s show on Monday, but it turns out the seller sent it to the wrong address so heaven only knows if I’ll get it now. The third thing was that my friend Kim from Sheffield was in town visiting her girlfriend and I got to see her which was lovely. And the last and by no means the least great thing was that mine and Big Mean’s supposed two week break came to an end, not that we’ve really stuck to it but still, it’s the marking of a fresh start I feel.

I met him when I finished work at my house and we headed out for Thai food and when we got back we curled up together, watched some tv, chatted and had a quick search on the net for a new house for him. Then we went to bed and made love and talked for ages and then fell asleep together which was bliss, considering he doesn’t stay over as often any more. This morning we were supposed to get up and go to the gym together, but that totally didn’t happen. Instead we lazed around, ate croissants, went back to bed to sleep, woke up and had mind blowing sex during which he came while I was on top which is a rare but wonderful thing. Then we got up and had a two hour long bath together. I’d bought a new bath bomb from Lush full of rose petals, and we took a punnet of strawberries in with us to eat. The romantics that we are we spent the first half an hour or so throwing the rose petals at each other, seeing who could hit who the hardest and in the most painful place. Then when we’d lost all the rose petals we resorted to throwing a wet sponge at one another, which hurt a lot more and soaked the bathroom but which was so much fun in a very childish kind of way. Then we cuddled and did some naughty things and by that time the bath water had got cold, so I refilled the tub and washed his hair, all the while he complained that I was getting water in his eyes which I clearly was not, and then he put the shower head in a very rude place and I let him win the argument. By this time it was around six thirty and I made us dinner and he left to go and stay the night with his family at around eight thirty. It’s been an amazing 24 hours, I’ve laughed so much, oh God at one point I was in hysterics, the scenario went like this… We were making love this afternoon and after he came with me on top I got on my back and he used his fingers until I came for the second time. During this process however I squirted bucket loads yet again because he was hammering my G spot and I just can’t help it when I get it like that, I had a huge internal orgasm which caused me to be very loud and squirt even more. When he was giving it to me his phoned beeped, and after we’d finished he asked where his phone was. We started looking around for it and I said, “where did you leave it?”
“Somewhere on the bed,” he said.
With a worried feeling I roled out of the very wet patch on the bed only to find… a soaking wet phone. In fits of giggles and slightly concerned that I had broken it through water damage I handed it to him. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed, “my phone smells of fanny, jizz, and arse!” Well by this time I was howling with laughter and chastising him for leaving it on the bed in the first place, and it thankfully did work after all. I love the man to pieces!

So tomorrow and my plan for most of next week is to go to the gym and also do some serious job hunting. Hopefully I’ll be seeing Big Mean again on Monday evening If I ever make it to this gig and then again at the end of the week. And in the time inbetween I’m really going to work on myself and my career, I only have four weeks left at my current job now. I’m really pleased with the way my progress is going in terms of getting fit as well. Yesterday I wore a skirt that I couldn’t get in to a month ago and got lots of compliments on the way I looked which was an added boost. I’m starting to notice the change in my shape. My legs are getting slimmer and more muscular, my arse is looking more defined, my arms are getting toned and my stomach is getting flatter. I’ve still got a long way to go before I can start working on maintaining my weight and figure rather than changing it, but hopefully working out every day next week will really speed things up.
I think that’s all for now, time for bed and a book.

Conquered

He came out of the bathroom not wearing a thing. We had had dinner and he’d taken a shower and we’d sat on the sofa, me in my robe and him in a towel, teasingly covering his lower half. Now he again came and sat next to me, putting an arm around my shoulders and kissing me. I leaned back, pulling him in to me and he began running his hands up my thighs. Everything he did from then on in was like he’d gotten inside my head and was predicting what I wanted even before I thought it. He ran his fingers over the silk of my knickers over and over again, gently, then scratching, his nails grazing my lips, making me soaking wet. He slipped first one finger, then two under the lace edging and as he pushed inside me he said, “I love your pussy.” That almost made me come there and then and I grabbed the back of his head and bit his lips as we kissed. He fucked me with his fingers for a while, then I lay back and he repeated the teasing through my panties, this time with his tongue. “You’re not allowed to come,” he said, “I mean it. I want you to come with my cock.” “I promise,” I said, just dying to feel his tongue and forcing my orgasm back. Then we moved to the bed and I was on top of him, squirting all over him and he fucking loved it, making me do it over and over. “Where do you keep it all?” he said at one point as we both laughed and marvelled at the mess I’d made. “That’s 8 days worth,” I said, “this is what happens when we go so long without any.” Then he fucked me, and that’s when I lost control. I can’t really described what happened to me during those minutes. It was like he’d taken me over mentally as well as physically, I was completely and utterly helpless. I couldn’t even move. I just lay there, my arms wrapped tightly around him, head in his neck as he moved on top of me, crying out in pleasure and almost hopelessness in the knowledge that he’d somehow managed to make me open up completely and give all my power and everything I was, and felt, over to him. In those minutes, nothing else mattered. I don’t even think I was aware of where we were, or the noise I was making, all my mind could focus on was the feel of him and the absolute pure emotion I felt while he was inside me. When he came I bit him hard and screwed my eyes tight shut, wanting to cry and cry my emotion. But it was even too powerful for tears, I just lay there holding him and letting it subside.

We made love again after dozing a little, and this time it was harder, faster, more urgent than before. I lost count of the amount of times we said “I love you”, lost track of time, nothing else mattered to me at that moment than being there with him in that moment. I have honestly, never in my life experienced anything like that. You know in those corny songs when they talk about being taken to another place, well it was like that. I lost all control, all notion of everything around me, I’m sure the house could have caught fire and I wouldn’t have even been aware of it.

Today, on my way to work I thought about silly stuff, imagining us in the future and what it would be like. And I’ve felt oddly afraid all day, scared of what he brought out in me and the depth of my emotion. I didn’t think I could ever feel like that about anyone and it has stayed with me beyond the physical moment. I’m more in love with him now than I’ve ever been and I didn’t think that was possible. And I think that breaking up did us the world of good, because something has shifted. He’s different now, like he’s letting his guard down, really letting me in. And I’m changing too. Whereas before I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, it seems to have dramatically improved, like something’s clicked in my brain and told me to relax. He’s out of town tonight at a gig, and if it had been a few weeks ago I would have been going out of my mind wondering what he was up too. I’m not saying the niggling feeling has gone completely, but I feel much calmer and it’s almost like him coming back to me and saying in no uncertain terms that he did not want us to break up has proved that he really does want to be with me. I guess I always felt a bit like he might have been pushed in to it, coming straight out of another relationship and I was so clingy and insistent that we be a couple straight away. I guess in the back of my mind I knew that I was pushing for something and that I wasn’t letting it happen naturally. Only now it has and it feels amazing. The way we are at the moment almost seems too good to be true, but if it continues in this way I’ll be one happy woman.

In him, I see a lot of my own traits, the good and the bad ones. We are different in many ways, but we’re also very similar. If there was anyone I think I’m meant to be with, it’s him.

My Weakness

“Fancy hooking up?” I asked him tonight on msn.
“Yeah we could do,” he said. “But I haven’t showered or anything yet.”
“Don’t worry about it unless you smell really bad, you’ll probably need another one by the time you leave anyway.”

Eight days without sex and I was getting to the stage of not being able to think about anything else, despite making myself come a lot. But this wasn’t the type of need that my own hands and a toy could satisfy. This was another craving, for his hands, his tongue, his cock that feels like nothing else ever could. So, we are again breaking our rule of not seeing each other, and this time we are going to fuck unless he drastically changes his mind. He is on his way over, his dinner is in the oven and I am sitting on the sofa in cream coloured silk bra and panties trimmed with lace and a Chinese style satin robe. I want him to walk through the door and know exactly what I want. I can’t work out though whether I want him to take control or whether I should be the one in charge. Part of me has that craving to be grabbed, pushed down on the bed, have my hair pulled, be kissed and bitten hard and for him to force his way between my legs, pinning me down so that struggling is futile. But another part of me wants to hand cuff him to the bed and make him the powerless one, make him beg to be permitted to fuck me. I think the first one is winning out though this time. I just hope he can read my mind heehee.

Tootling Along

This week has been one of the quietest I’ve had in a long while, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to blog about random nothingness for a change. I’m looking around for new jobs at the moment and tomorrow I will broach the subject of my leaving with my boss and I’m not really looking forward to it. The truth is, my heart just isn’t in the work I’m doing, I can’t get passionate about it because it’s just not my thing, and it makes me sad that I’m aware that I’m not giving my absolute best at work, mainly because I find it incredibly boring. I’m going to have to think of a more subtle way to phrase that tomorrow though. I’m looking in to various avenues at the moment, but I need to find something relatively quickly or I’ll shortly be penniless.

In other news my new zest for exercise is going reasonably well I would say. I’m not at the gym all the time but go at least twice a week now and usually do two classes on a Sunday, one after the other which is a killer! I’m starting to feel the benefits of it already, I’m getting fitter and more toned, but I’m not to lose my ass, New Lover sternly told me as he groped it one day. Speaking of New Lover, who I am definitely going to call Big Mean because I love that, things seem to be settling down, *touch a lot of wood*. We weren’t supposed to see each other for two weeks, but we ended up meeting up tonight for dinner and a cuddle because we were both really missing each other and are busy for the next few days. He’s being really attentive at the moment and it’s heaven, and I think I’m learning to relax a bit more, taking a step back and thinking before I open my mouth and react to things. I love him madly and I’m glad we decided to give it another shot.

What else… Baby G is coming to stay over tomorrow night which she’s not done in ages and then we’re going for massages together on Saturday and then I’m out in the evening having dinner with Caroline at her new house. Don’t know if I mentioned it, but Caroline, myself and one of her friends are going away together in September. Her family has a villa on the Costa Del Sol and she invited me out there for ten days, bliss! It’s such a shame she isn’t at least bisexual, she’s lovely and very attractive and Big Mean and I would both really like to sleep with her, probably at the same time. Is it outrageous to think about your friends like that? I also got an email from Adam and Eve telling me to expect a delivery of some new toys fairly soon, woop woop! Had better get on to reviewing the last two from the previous delivery, I wasn’t so keen on them so haven’t felt like getting them out to do a decent review.

Oh… and I also had a very small, tentative conversation on msn with DL a couple of nights back. It’s the first time we’ve spoken in six months, and it was weird, but kind of nice. She seems to be doing ok, or at least she says she is, and we managed to keep the conversation generic and didn’t talk about anything personal which is probably for the best. I don’t think she’d take my new relationship too well at all. But still it was good to exchange a few words and we established that of course I don’t hate her and she thanked me for chatting and I told her to keep her chin up and keep making the most out of life.

So, it’s now a full week until I see Big Mean again, not sure if we’ll manage it as four days seemed too long this time haha. I’m having the day off work next Tuesday though because my new sofa is being delivered, ooo excitement, so I have to wait in for that. And, I also just finished reading this amazing book by Anthony Shadid called Night Draws Near. It’s an account of the American occupation of Iraq during the war, written by a journalist who was raised in the US but whose roots are middle eastern. Very, very good book, kept me hooked on the six hours it took to get up north and back for work the other day.

Told you that post was a random one. Time to head to bed and stop waffling, I was awake from five this morning because of my hey fever and blocked sinuses.

Ordinary People

We sat together in my flat, side by side on the sofa but somehow miles apart. We tore strips off each other for hours, angry words that we didn’t really mean but that needed to come out. Then just as I thought there was nothing left to say and that that was really the end of everything, he said, “you know what’s ridiculous about all this? I never argue like this with any one who I don’t love to pieces. Now come here and give me a cuddle.” And as I moved towards him something shifted and it was like I didn’t even know why we were fighting or what we were fighting over anymore and as he held me tight, kissing me, he said it again, “I love you to pieces.”

That night, the anger gone, we talked like we used too, laughed with each other, held each other, kissed and made love to each other. I cried in his arms and we agreed that we both wanted the same thing and that was to make a fresh start and try again. We agreed not to see each other for the next two weeks, just to put some distance between the arguing and the clean slate so that we could come at it from a different angle. But that night he stayed with me and I woke up the next morning with him next to me and I felt fucking amazing! No sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, no tears in my eyes, only those of pure joy and relief and I couldn’t stop touching him and kissing him and telling him how glad I was that he was there. We slept late in to the afternoon, waking occasionally and making love and sleeping again. Then we went out for dinner and talked and talked about random things. He left at around eleven after more cuddling and lots of laughing and I went to bed feeling high.

Some things have hit home for us both over the past few weeks, and while I’m not pretending that everything will be rosey from now on because we’ve got a lot of learning from each other to do, I think we’re going to be ok. We love each other so much, we just have to learn how to adapt to each other and how to communicate without both of us being on the defensive straight away whenever there’s an issue. Right now, I’m just glad that he’s back in my life as much more than a friend.

And the reason for the title of the post is this, and it says a lot I think.
<a href=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jQ4jO4AwFY”

Reflection of my Feelings

Alicia Keys Prelude to a Kiss

Ifs, Buts and Maybes

I’m still here. Just haven’t felt like writing much to be honest. Had stuff going round and round in my head for a week and that’s been bad enough without regurgitating it out on to a computer screne.

It’s all a bit of a mess to be honest, we’re still not together but have seen each other twice since the break up and for me, well it’s been difficult because I’m so torn. I don’t just want to be his friend but I don’t see how it can work unless he makes a bit more ffort, which he’s not sure he’s prepared to do. My head tells me to fuck it all off, to tell him where to go and just to start moving on with my life, but when I see him or his name pops up on my phone or in my inbox, my heart says otherwise. We’re meeting up again tonight, what for I don’t know because it’s torture being around him and having to restrain myself from saying or doing something inappropriate. I think tonight will probably be the last time for a while because I need to harden up against him and start moving on if he’s not prepared to make a decision about whether what we had is worth fighting for or not.
It’s pathetic really. I guess I was kidding myself all along because he’s been resistant right from the start. Not wanting to call it a relationship for ages and not acknowledging we were actually a couple, then all the stuff with the ex, and then him doubting whether we could work for months on end. I guess I just hoped he’d start to fall for me the way I’d fallen for him. But he admitted the other day that he’d never really let himself go that far. I think what he wants is to have his cake and eat it. To be with some one who is so easy going that she doesn’t care less what he does most of the time, makes very little demands on him and gives him sex whenever it suits him, not her. Maybe it was because he went straight from being with the ex to being with me, I’m not sure. Either way he’s too selfish to be with some one right now, I just need to tell my heart that that’s the case and stop crying over him and all the months I’ve wasted loving him. Because it has been a waste, the moments of happiness haven’t been worth all the pain and anguish and the not knowing and the hoping that has been my life for half a year now. And if I had my time again, I wouldn’t do it again, I would never have entered in to it in the first place.
Excuse me if I sound bitter. I’ve just never felt so unloved, so unwanted, and like such a fucking fool as I do right now. I’ve thrown myself at him for months and months and mostly been met with rejection or indecision. So unless he pulls something miraculous out of the bag tonight, that’s it, it’s over and there’s no going back. And I’ll just have to move on and accept the fact that he didn’t love me enough to go that extra mile.

I don’t Understand Why

What do you do when you want to be with some one so much that you would willingly go to any lengths to make it work? When that person loves you as much as you love them and when you get on it’s like there’s no one else in the world who gets you like they do. But sometimes, a lot of times, you fight, or have misunderstandings and you operate on very different levels when it comes to relationships. You were amazing as friends, and you probably could be again in the future, but you don’t want to be just friends. You can’t imagine not having them around, not sharing the most intimate details of your life with them, not going to bed and waking up with them, not making love to them, not having their kids and making a life together. Because that’s what I wanted. And now I feel lost. And confused because I love him more deeply than anything but he’s almost impossible to have a relationship with because he’s so single minded and emotionless and often selfish and doesn’t see things the way I do. So the choice I had was either to put up with all the shit just to be with him because I love him, or admit it wasn’t working, end it and move on. But how do you walk away from some one who, when things are good, makes you feel like you’ve found the person you were meant to be with? What kind of a choice is that? It’s no choice really. If I thought it would work or that things would change, I would leave the office right now and go to him and tell him it was a mistake breaking up. But what would be the point if things would just return to how they were? I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all the love I feel for him. It certainly won’t go in to the “friend” box anymore, that would be like trying to fit a mansion in to a space meant for an apartment. It was never meant to work out this way. We were meant to be happy. What happened to that? And why on earth can’t we make it work when we love each other so much?

Me and New Lover broke up.
That’s all. I’m hurting too much to say much else.

Pulling it back

He finally got to my house at around 4:30 Monday morning. I’d been lying in bed, tossing and turning, worried sick, calling him every hour or so to check he was ok and to see if he’d left yet. I went downstairs to pay the cab and as soon as I got close to him I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I didn’t mind too much, anyone would have a drink after what he’d just had to go through and I’d made the decision not to croud him but to just let him know I was there if he needed me. In the lift in the way up to my flat we didn’t touch like we usually do, just stood apart in silence, both of us I think still in shock. When we got inside I gave him some food and sat on the sofa, my arm gently draped around his shoulders and just let him talk until he was exhausted. He seemed appalled at the violence she’d provoked in him, after beating him around the head time and time again, cutting him at one point, kicking his groin, every time he thought she’d calmed down she started losing it again until in the end he bounced her head off a post box and hurled her in to the road in front of a car. He’d then decided to take her to a mutual friend’s house, some one who would look after her and on the way there on the tube she kept on attacking him. He seemed to think she wasn’t just drunk, that she was on something else and when they were at AB’s house she went in search of a knife until she was stopped and he wasn’t sure if it was meant to hurt herself, or him. She kept saying she wanted him back, that I had everything she wanted and that it wouldn’t work between us. He said she’s got it all planned out, when we’re going to break up, what’ll happen when they get back together, where they’re going to live, the babies the marriage, everything. She’s a fucking nut case. When he’d finished telling me all this we turned off our phones and went to bed and I held him until he fell in to an uneasy sleep.

We woke at around mid day - I’d called work to say I wouldn’t be in and he called AB to find out what had happened when she’d woken up. She’d supposedly gone off to a relatives house to stay for a few days and I told him there was nothing more he could do. We had a long talk in the afternoon about whether to stay together or not, I said that all this was making me very unhappy and he couldn’t seem to understand why his ex was my problem. I explained that I felt like she’d been there the entire relationship and that she was just waiting for it to go wrong between us and we talked about the trust issue and how I’m feeling about myself at the moment. Truth is I feel rather fucked up over being with a guy, my preference being women – I’m really not attracted to other men at all, so it’s kind of weird. We also talked about how he’d started taking things for granted and that I felt like he’d forgotten what he had and we agreed that if we weren’t going to split up we shouldn’t spend so much time together. We’ve practically been living together over the past few weeks and I don’t think it’s done us any good. As he put it, sex is never spontaneous because if some one’s there all the time it doesn’t matter whether you have it now or in a couple of hours. We don’t spend quality time together, just sort of coexist in the same flat doing our own thing because we’re there together so much. We never get to miss each other or look forward to spending time together because we always do, and he acknowledged that a lot of it has been him deciding to stay over again and again and that we maybe needed to pull back a bit if I still wanted to carry on. I explained that I thought this was either the shittest relationship I’d ever been in, or it could turn out to be the most amazing and that it just needed working on a bit. It really doesn’t help that I feel so messed up, I’ve got certain issues that I’ve just pushed away hoping they’d resolve themselves or go away, and they haven’t. Finally we agreed that we would stay together and really try and work things out, he said he’d stop taking me for granted and that he’d be there throughout the counceling if I needed him, I said I would try and learn to trust him more and to give him space and to try and work on not feeling so insecure.

As we talked all this through we lay in bed, me in his arms with him stroking my hair. When we’d done talking I pressed in close to him and he moved his hands down my body and we began making love, passionate and hungry for each other. He rolled me on to my back and I wrapped my legs as tight around his waste as they would go. He pushed in deep and I pulled his hair. He kissed me hard and I bit his lips. I cried out and he moaned in to the pillow. He said, “if you decide you’re too gay after all, you have to let me have this from time to time.” I said, “I don’t think I could ever stop wanting this.” And we moved together, rocking, pushing, not being able to get close enough to each other, our skin almost getting in the way and when I said I was going to come he said, “me too, soon.” “Now,” I said. “Now,” he groaned, and we orgasmed together and it felt so fucking good to be there with him.

For the rest of the day we stayed close to each other, always touching or cuddling, kissing and talking and when he left later that night I was half asleep and woozy from the wine I’d been drinking. This morning I got up and the first thing I thought was, “thank God we didn’t break up,” and all I wanted to do was call him and hear his voice. Instead I went to work in the pouring rain with a foggy head and a knott in my stomach because I know it’s time to face up to why I’ve been feeling unhappy lately. I know why it is, in the past 8 months I’ve gone from being an out and proud lesbian to a woman in love with a man, for the first time in my life truly hating and fighting with another woman over that man and feeling like I’m not sure where I fit in any more. I don’t feel like I know who the new me is, or where the parts of the old me that are still here are supposed to fit in. I guess I just need to do some sole searching and I’m going to go back in to therapy for a little while for the first time in four years. I want to feel ok in my own skin again. To feel like it’s ok to love a man and yet be so attracted to women. I want to trust him and believe that he’s not going to hurt me and not worry myself sick over little things or get so tense that I feel my head start to pound and hear the blood in my ears. I love him madly, I just have to learn how to join together the me that loves him with the woman who I used to be and partly still am, the out and proud lover of other women. There’s a woman at work who is gay and when I first started there I mentioned my ex girlfriend so she automatically thought I was gay too. I mention my new partner all the time, and I let her think it’s a woman, not a man. And why? Because I don’t want to let go of my identity as a lesbian. I don’t feel like I can give that up because it’s so ingrained in to who I am. So I guess I’ve got some stuff to sort out, because I can’t be with a man and be a lesbian at the same time. Sometimes I hate society for all the labelling and putting in to boxes that it does. I just want to be High Maintenance Femme: a lover of one man, and many women. Maybe that’s what I’ll say when people ask me, “so are you gay? Straight?…” For now though there’s work tomorrow, I want to be up at six for a gym classs and I’m exhausted. Good night.

Losing it

I’m in shock at the moment. In shock and feeling upset and worried and just want to see New Lover more than anything. A few days ago apparently the Ex called him asking if he would fix her computer because she couldn’t get anyone else to do it and he agreed. I was naturally furious and told him that it wasn’t his problem and that now they would have to meet up and that would cause all sorts of problems as she still wasn’t over the break up. We had quite a big fight about it because it one point he said he might have to go out of London as she doesn’t live here to go fix it and I told him no way on earth was that happening, if she wanted it fixed so badly she could come and drop it off and then pick it up when it was ready. He said he’d work something out in a couple of weeks time.

Tonight as I was on my way back from the cinema, I got a call from him. He sounded odd and when I asked what was the matter he said that he was on his way over to AB’s house who’s a friend of the EX. When I asked why, he said that it was a long story and I asked if the Ex was there with him and he said yes. This totally shocked me as she lives in a different city so why would she be there? He said he’d call me back when he could talk a bit better but half an hour later I couldn’t hold out and called him. He said he’d tell me more when he was alone, but the basics were that the Ex had rocked up at his house steaming drunk and tried to kick the shit out of him. He’d taken her out of the house and tried to sober her up and talk some sense in to her, then when she was calmer he took her back to the house. She started kicking the shit out of him again when they were outside the door and in the end he said he smashed her head in to the post box and threw her in to the road in front of a car. I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. I managed to ask if she was ok and he said yes she was and that he’d taken her to AB’s and called her father and he was going to leave when she’d fallen asleep, I assume so that she wouldn’t kick off again. That’s about all I know at the moment and I’m waiting for him to call me back. I asked if he was alright and he said his head hurt, I’m not sure how badly she managed to hurt him but I badly want him to come here rather than go back to his house so that I can make sure he’s alright. I think she’s totally lost it. I mean six months on and she’s doing this kind of shit? My God! I feel angry and upset about it, angry with her but at the same time I pity her for stooping so low. I hope she never crosses my path ever again because if she does I’d like to paste her face to the nearest wall, and I’m not easily provoked in to violence. I’ve only ever raised my hand one time in my whole life and that was when DL and I got in to a fight when the relationship had broken down and she’d thrown a six foot xmas tree covered in glass decorations across our living room and frightened the shit out of both me and the dog. I’m so tense that I can’t sit still, that’s mainly the reason I’m writing, to pass the time until he calls. I can’t go to sleep, probably won’t sleep well at all unless I have him next to me tonight, vut the mood he’s in he’ll probably just want to go home and then be all up night stewing over it.

I feel like everything is chaos at the moment. What with the situation with the Ex and a few other things, mainly New Lover acting like I’m part of the furniture most of the time lately and my distrust issue with him, I started to question whether being with him is what I really want. Yesterday when we were fighting about the Ex I told him how I felt and that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to carry on. He appologised for taking me for granted, said he’d try harder and we talked until I decided I shouldn’t give up on it just yet after we’d come through so much. I felt odd all day yesterday about it, wondering if I was doing the right thing and then this today is just another thing on top of everything else. It feels like our relationship is chaos. Either one or the other of us isn’t sure if it’s working out, we’ve got the Ex pulling stunts like this, I’m having major insecurity issues because I don’t really trust him not to cheat and due to the whole feeling unappreciated thing, plus I’m going through an “oh my God I’m with a man, what’s going on?” period which I’m finding hard to deal with because I do love him very much. I guess I just feel like I don’t know where to put this relationship in terms of who I am. We went out last night with the rest of his band and their girlfriends, and I sat there and when i was talking to the women I just kept thinking, “I’m not like you, you’re all straight and girlie and in to men and instead of identifying with you I’m thinking about what it would be like to fuck you.” I think I might go an talk to a sexuality councelor as I’m not dealing with this change as well as I thought I was.

* * *

I just called him again as it’s been an hour, and he’s still there, still waiting until she falls asleep. I kind of felt mad although I tried not to let it show, and gently said, “this is exactly what she wants. She’s got your atention now, she’s going to draw this out for as long as she can. Why do you have to stay there?” He replied with, “it’s complicated,” and when I told him that I wanted to talk propplerly and that I was worried he said, “why? It’s not like it’s going on around you is it?” He doesn’t seem to understand that everything that affects him in turn has an effect on me. He’s my partner, I love him, it’s bound to isn’t it, why can’t he see that? I told him to come here when he’d finished there, no matter what time it was and he said, “well you’d better try and get some sleep then, I could be a while.” I fucking hate her for doing this and if she wasn’t in such a mess I sware I’d go there and fucking give her the atention she wants until she was begging to be left in peace.

So now I don’t know what to do. I can’t think, I can’t sleep and I have to be up for work in the morning. And time is crawling by and all i can think about is him sitting there with her while she milks it for all it’s worth. She’s been there throughout our whole relationship in one way or another, and now she has him right where she wants him. Like she’s going to fall asleep if she knows he’ll leave if she does. She’s completely manipulating him and to be honest I don’t know how much more of this I can stomach. What if he stays there all night? What the fuck happens then? I don’t think i’ll be able to handle that. I certainly didn’t sign up for a three way relationship and that’s kind of what I’m getting at the moment. If this doesn’t finish us off completely, and it very well might, we’ll certainly be stronger for it, that’s all I can say.
Almost 1 AM and he still hasn’t called to say he’s on his way out of there. And i feel sick…

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Product Review: Cyberglass Four-way G

I recently discovered the pleasures of glass toys and have been slowly expanding my collection, so when I opened the package Adam and Eve sent me and found the Cyberglass Four Way G, I did a little dance around my kitchen and wished my partner was home so we could try it together right there and then.

The design of the FWG is very pretty – if you want something that doesn’t look at all phallic, this is the toy for you. When I showed it to one of my friends, she actually said, “I like it because it looks nothing like a penis,” and that appeals to me too if I’m not in the mood for cock but still want penetration. Personally I like my glass a little warm, so I always soak it in warm water before playing. What I love about this toy, one of the things anyway, is that both ends are different. The curved, smoother end with the gentle swirls really caught my G-spot. I’m a big fan of this kind of stimulation and the weightiness of this toy added to the perfectly curved tip had me coming within minutes. The swirled design is also great for some gentle clitoral stimulation, although it wasn’t enough to get me off.

Now for the other end, and… well, the other entrance. I personally think that the thicker end with the larger bumps is ideal for anal penetration. When my partner and I tried this I took the thicker end in my ass and a couple of fingers in my pussy and with a little clitoral stimulation I was coming so hard I soaked everything within range! The wider end could also be used for vaginal stimulation if you want something a bit thicker and rougher, but I like to keep ends and entrances separate. I have a few glass toys now and this one is at the top of my favourites list. All I have to do now is persuade my partner that it would feel so good if I was allowed to do the fucking with it. Come on… you know you want to bend over and take it for me…

Pros: attractive design, can be heated or chilled, four different sensations in one toy, can be used vaginally and anally, a great couple’s toy for added fun, can be used in the bath or shower, classy and not phallic

Cons: curved end could be wider, would have liked to feel more of the bigger bumps

Go here to buy the Four-way G at the amazingly low price of $34.95 - it’s a steal!

Bank holiday - Bonk holiday

I was just rereading some of my old posts as I do from time to time and it struck me how little I’ve been writing over the past couple of months. Once a week is about all I’m managing at the very very most at the moment, but it’s because life is just too busy to sit down and write in the evenings these days and when I do get the chance to relax I’m usually too tired to blog.

Last weekend was a bank holiday and it was so lovely and relaxing. On Friday evening I left work slightly early and went for a swim, did another 30 lengths in just under half an hour which New Lover took the piss out of but which I don’t think is too bad. I met him after I’d finished at the gym and we headed to my house, got take out and spent the evening laughing, relaxing and making love. This weekend was great in many respects, not least that we got on like a house on fire and he was very forthcoming in the physical department and not once did I feel like I had to persuade him in to it which was a breath of fresh air.

On Saturday we woke up late and as soon as we were fully conscious his hands were on me again and as I chatted to a mutual friend of ours who called, he slid his cock inside me and when I got off the phone we did it again in several different positions. At one point he spooned me and as we moved together he squeezed my nipples and caressed my breasts which again is a rare but amazing treat. I felt totally wanted and like he couldn’t get close enough to me and it was an amazing feeling. In the afternoon we met up with a friend of his, an italian guy called Matt and did some shopping, bought lunch and took the dog to the park in the sunshine. We wanted to go somewhere and sit outdoors in the evening and have dinner, but we couldn’t decide where we wanted to go, so instead we bought take out food and sat in the back garden on a quilt next to the fountain and ate there.

For some reason lately I get these nights when I just come home from what I’m doing and literally just pass out on the bed. I think it’s because I’m so busy at the moment that my body just runs out of steam totally. It happened the weekend we went to see his parents last and when we got home I lay on the bed and was asleep within a couple of minutes. It happened again this weekend after we’d been sitting outside. We came back in when it got too cold, it wasn’t even late, maybe just after ten and we lay on the bed for a cuddle. I was fully dressed and the lights were on and I just completely sparked out. I woke up a couple of hours later and groggily got undressed and turned off the lights feeling exhausted.

On Sunday he went off to band practice while I went to Passion UK with our mutual friend L. L is a