Finally decided to get off my lazy butt and get out of the house for a bit. Went to a pal's house party in Clapham where we proceeded to do see just how much absinthe we could handle. You'll be pleased to know that I came second. You won't be pleased to know that I now have a raging hangover (feels like a meat cleaver continuously slicing into my brain matter!).
As is usually the case, where there's alcohol, there's sex. Sex this time came in the form of the absinthe winner Joshua* - lovely guy I've met on a few occasions, but I just never bit the bullet. Well, this time, I bit the bullet and much more! Felt rather wrong though - he's just so sweet and unassuming, and I initially felt like I was taking advantage of him being drunk et al. Fat chance of that! He's a dirty little f*cker (pardon my French!)! There are some people that say, show me how a person has sex and I'll tell you who they are (ok, fine, not some people - me!!). Joshua's carnal behaviour last night DOES NOT translate into the reality of what you see in real time, which just makes it all the more shocking. No, I am not going into salacious details as my head is still reeling (and no, that's not just the alcohol!) . Let's just say certain objects and actions were involved that would make Ron Jeremy blush and convert to Buddhism ...
Embarrassed I might be, but God, I'm SO glad I abolished the one-time rule!!!!
PS - I know my "Prize Picks of the Day" have been a little thin on the ground. Craigslist has been unusually quiet ... (but we all know that will change!)
Saturday, 25 August 2007
Monday, 20 August 2007
What a difference a day makes ...
From being blissfully happy to being in a downright rotten mood. In fact, I'm wallowing in a pool of self pity. Don't worry, it'll pass - no doubt helped along by the fact that, after a long hiatus, I've finally managed to score a replacement pot dealer. This time, I won't make the mistake I made with my former one - shagging your drug dealer is NEVER a good idea!!! Letting him move halfway across the world without at least getting you a replacement - even worse!
In fact, I'm turning a lot of things in my life around -
1. The one-time rule has been officially abolished - it was too hard to keep to it.
2. Recreational drugs are back on the menu - see above.
3. I'm now shagging couples sans Daniel. So many females to turn, so little time ...
4. I'm listening to music again - cheesy pop, soppy ballads, old time classics, grunge, jazz, Simon and Garfunkel, Rufus Wainwright's "Hallelujah", Meditation from Thais the opera (you name it, I've got it on my iTunes player - even embarrassing Disney songs from my childhood!)
5. I finally finished Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment - I kept putting the Epilogue off as it made me too upset (yes, I'm a weirdo who gets ridiculously attached to novels!)
6. I'm learning to accept my scars of previous years - insane rage and self-harming will fuck you up, but so will denial.
Of course, all of this might change in an instant. But for now, I'm going to enjoy it all for as long as I can.
Suddenly, I feel better :-)
In fact, I'm turning a lot of things in my life around -
1. The one-time rule has been officially abolished - it was too hard to keep to it.
2. Recreational drugs are back on the menu - see above.
3. I'm now shagging couples sans Daniel. So many females to turn, so little time ...
4. I'm listening to music again - cheesy pop, soppy ballads, old time classics, grunge, jazz, Simon and Garfunkel, Rufus Wainwright's "Hallelujah", Meditation from Thais the opera (you name it, I've got it on my iTunes player - even embarrassing Disney songs from my childhood!)
5. I finally finished Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment - I kept putting the Epilogue off as it made me too upset (yes, I'm a weirdo who gets ridiculously attached to novels!)
6. I'm learning to accept my scars of previous years - insane rage and self-harming will fuck you up, but so will denial.
Of course, all of this might change in an instant. But for now, I'm going to enjoy it all for as long as I can.
Suddenly, I feel better :-)
Sunday, 19 August 2007
My Prize Pick of the Day ... 19/08/07
Tart With A Heart? - m4w - 60 (Have car can travel)
Date: 2007-08-19, 10:08PM BST
I'm a 60 year old man with impotence caused by a combination of illness (nothing life threatening nor contagious) and old age.
However, I have an insatiable libido and I'm looking for some mutual oral enjoyment. Although I am unable to fuck you senseless, I have honed my oral skills to almost an art form and can lick you to the point of orgasm and beyond.
Perhaps you would like to reciprocate and endeavour to blow some life into my flacid, wrinkled pathetic little cock?
I'm sure that with the right partner, a little patience and some tlc, we can get this thing licked.
I cannot accommodate but can travel.
[He really knows how to make it sound so appealing ... Poor thing ...]
Date: 2007-08-19, 10:08PM BST
I'm a 60 year old man with impotence caused by a combination of illness (nothing life threatening nor contagious) and old age.
However, I have an insatiable libido and I'm looking for some mutual oral enjoyment. Although I am unable to fuck you senseless, I have honed my oral skills to almost an art form and can lick you to the point of orgasm and beyond.
Perhaps you would like to reciprocate and endeavour to blow some life into my flacid, wrinkled pathetic little cock?
I'm sure that with the right partner, a little patience and some tlc, we can get this thing licked.
I cannot accommodate but can travel.
[He really knows how to make it sound so appealing ... Poor thing ...]
Sometimes
I sometimes don't realise just how lucky I am. The anniversary came and went - Daniel and I went for a lovely meal at Saran Rom, came back home and settled on the sofa to watch "Starter for 10" (very funny and moving movie). Whilst we were watching it, I kept thinking how I missed out on a lot of things back in those days - living in my university's halls of residence, the crazy parties that went on, the friendships that were forged (and broken) and just revelling in the sheer joy of crazily immature youth.
Then I gave myself a mental slap across the face.
I'm lucky enough to have gone to university and come out with some really great grades. Sure, I didn't go to as many parties as I wanted but I went to enough to know that, after a while, puking up in the guttering nearby moaning about the lack of a meaningful other is totally overrated. Whilst they were sleeping with random people and returned back to reality pricking their consciences about what they'd done/who they'd cheated on, I was sleeping with random people and getting to go back home to Daniel, without the obligatory guilt trips. Whilst some of them are undertaking Masters degrees to shy away from having to face real life as fully fledged adults, I've just landed myself another great job that pays (dare I say it) ridiculously well. My future isn't riddled with uncertainty and unanswerable questions. In my twenties, I have a great job, a great man (who lets me get away with murder!) and more-than-affordable mortgages on home and overseas properties, the values of which are increasing so well that I need do nothing but sit on my arse and watch the money roll in. I can do everything my contemporaries do and have a hell of a lot that they don't.
I sometimes don't realise just how lucky I am. Then again, sometimes, I do.
(Happy Anniversary, Daniel!)
Then I gave myself a mental slap across the face.
I'm lucky enough to have gone to university and come out with some really great grades. Sure, I didn't go to as many parties as I wanted but I went to enough to know that, after a while, puking up in the guttering nearby moaning about the lack of a meaningful other is totally overrated. Whilst they were sleeping with random people and returned back to reality pricking their consciences about what they'd done/who they'd cheated on, I was sleeping with random people and getting to go back home to Daniel, without the obligatory guilt trips. Whilst some of them are undertaking Masters degrees to shy away from having to face real life as fully fledged adults, I've just landed myself another great job that pays (dare I say it) ridiculously well. My future isn't riddled with uncertainty and unanswerable questions. In my twenties, I have a great job, a great man (who lets me get away with murder!) and more-than-affordable mortgages on home and overseas properties, the values of which are increasing so well that I need do nothing but sit on my arse and watch the money roll in. I can do everything my contemporaries do and have a hell of a lot that they don't.
I sometimes don't realise just how lucky I am. Then again, sometimes, I do.
(Happy Anniversary, Daniel!)
Thursday, 16 August 2007
I need to get some fucking sleep!!
Went out for a party last night for a website called www.beautifulpeople.net. For those who aren't in the know, it's a dating site where you upload your face picture and the current members get to vote you in or out depending on how beautiful they think you are. Votes range from "Yes! Certainly!!" to "No! Not at all". I know, it sounds naff, doesn't it? lol. I joined up in April 2005 when it first started in the UK (of course I got voted in!!!) and had a blast of a summer with the crazy people I met on there. One memorable "party" involved taking a bouncy castle, ice-cream machine, lots of weed and even more alcohol to Hampstead Heath. We did get our fair share of disapproving tuts from the matriarchal elite who pass through there with their Third-World-looking starving chihuahuas. We all also ended up having sex (lots of sex!!) with each other - one-on-one, boy-girl, boy-boy, girl-girl, girl-girl-boy, girl-boy-girl, boy-girl-boy, boy-boy-girl-boy-girl-girl etc. If I'd drawn a map/chart, it would have looked like a spider's web woven whilst good old spidey was on crystal meth.
Annnyway - the party last night was held at Mahiki which, as everyone knows, is one of the "high end" clubs, frequented by celebrities, royalty and your stereotypical Euro-trash, that is no more than a glorified cattle market. I decided to go pretty last minute but got there in good time to bump into Tom* - one of my boy-girl-girl flings from the heady days of 2005. Tom's a very odd guy - no, seriously, extremely odd. He's got the strongest Scottish brogue I've ever heard so you can't understand a fucking word of what he's saying but then you kind of get lost looking at the physical "perfection" he embodies and, suddenly, verbal communication doesn't seem to be all that important any more. But no, this isn't about Tom - sure, we exchanged numbers again and mumbled vague suggestions about going to another party later that night together, but it pretty much ended there. You see, Tom, as beautiful as he is, has a certain problem referred to as "coke dick" - you know, when a guy's had so much fucking coke that his member can't do more than wilt sadly, no matter how hard you try to coax it into something a bit more, erm, "substantial". So no Tom action.
I did, however, start chatting to a guy I thought was Tom's friend who I later found out had only just met Tom at the bar earlier in the evening. Harry* - smart clued up air-force guy, 41, divorced, two kids, tall (very tall!) with yummy hazel eyes. When Tom et al decided to go on to a house party elsewhere, Harry and I decided to stick it out for a bit longer. We got chatting politics and one drink led to another ... To be fair, Harry was a perfect gentleman who walked me to Victoria to catch my train - AFTER he somehow managed to guide/lure me into his flat nearby with heavenly promises of food (actual food!) - pitta bread, humous, cherry tomatoes and fresh watercress (drooling even now). I never did get to finish the food - I somehow ended up naked in Harry's bed with him giving me an all over massage that felt bloody marvellous. Then followed six hours of really intense, really sweaty sex. His oral skills couldn't be faulted (tres enthusiastic) and I think I managed to lose count of how many fingers he had. It could have been ten, could have been fifty - all I know is that they were all over, everywhere. The only thing I could possibly fault is the taste of his cum (yes, I swallow - unless it really is nigh on impossible to do so without being sick!) - what is it with healthy guys on great diets who have the most bitter tasting stuff emanating from their dicks?! Very odd. But then again, that's one fault out of a series of faultless sessions of sex.
One interesting thing he said to me - when he first laid eyes on me in the club and spoke to me, he thought I was a butter-wouldn't-melt kinda girl. Why do all the men I end up shagging think this? Do I give off some kind of Virgin Mary vibe? I don't mind, not really - it's just that think of all the other cute guys (and girls!) I could have ended up shagging if only they realised that my posh-lady act was a front in the real world for a really debased, depraved, roving sexuality. I think I might have to get a tshirt that says, "Totally fuckable, and yes, "butter" would definitely melt and dribble down this posh girl's chin". Silly, but it might do the trick :)
I finally left Harry's at 7 a.m. this morning exhausted and happy. Which starts to beg the question- what am I doing up writing about this when I should be catching up on some well-deserved shut eye?! A perfectly reasonable question, the answer to which is that I've been masturbating pretty much non-stop since I got home. Yes, slutty and crazy - a great combination :)
PS - I never did get Harry's number. Or his last name. I can't even remember his address (that's how dazed and confused I was when I left!). Chances are I'm never going to see or speak to him ever again - a true and proper one night stand with a complete and total stranger. Probably for the best though - that'll be a great way of sticking to my "one-time" rule ...
Annnyway - the party last night was held at Mahiki which, as everyone knows, is one of the "high end" clubs, frequented by celebrities, royalty and your stereotypical Euro-trash, that is no more than a glorified cattle market. I decided to go pretty last minute but got there in good time to bump into Tom* - one of my boy-girl-girl flings from the heady days of 2005. Tom's a very odd guy - no, seriously, extremely odd. He's got the strongest Scottish brogue I've ever heard so you can't understand a fucking word of what he's saying but then you kind of get lost looking at the physical "perfection" he embodies and, suddenly, verbal communication doesn't seem to be all that important any more. But no, this isn't about Tom - sure, we exchanged numbers again and mumbled vague suggestions about going to another party later that night together, but it pretty much ended there. You see, Tom, as beautiful as he is, has a certain problem referred to as "coke dick" - you know, when a guy's had so much fucking coke that his member can't do more than wilt sadly, no matter how hard you try to coax it into something a bit more, erm, "substantial". So no Tom action.
I did, however, start chatting to a guy I thought was Tom's friend who I later found out had only just met Tom at the bar earlier in the evening. Harry* - smart clued up air-force guy, 41, divorced, two kids, tall (very tall!) with yummy hazel eyes. When Tom et al decided to go on to a house party elsewhere, Harry and I decided to stick it out for a bit longer. We got chatting politics and one drink led to another ... To be fair, Harry was a perfect gentleman who walked me to Victoria to catch my train - AFTER he somehow managed to guide/lure me into his flat nearby with heavenly promises of food (actual food!) - pitta bread, humous, cherry tomatoes and fresh watercress (drooling even now). I never did get to finish the food - I somehow ended up naked in Harry's bed with him giving me an all over massage that felt bloody marvellous. Then followed six hours of really intense, really sweaty sex. His oral skills couldn't be faulted (tres enthusiastic) and I think I managed to lose count of how many fingers he had. It could have been ten, could have been fifty - all I know is that they were all over, everywhere. The only thing I could possibly fault is the taste of his cum (yes, I swallow - unless it really is nigh on impossible to do so without being sick!) - what is it with healthy guys on great diets who have the most bitter tasting stuff emanating from their dicks?! Very odd. But then again, that's one fault out of a series of faultless sessions of sex.
One interesting thing he said to me - when he first laid eyes on me in the club and spoke to me, he thought I was a butter-wouldn't-melt kinda girl. Why do all the men I end up shagging think this? Do I give off some kind of Virgin Mary vibe? I don't mind, not really - it's just that think of all the other cute guys (and girls!) I could have ended up shagging if only they realised that my posh-lady act was a front in the real world for a really debased, depraved, roving sexuality. I think I might have to get a tshirt that says, "Totally fuckable, and yes, "butter" would definitely melt and dribble down this posh girl's chin". Silly, but it might do the trick :)
I finally left Harry's at 7 a.m. this morning exhausted and happy. Which starts to beg the question- what am I doing up writing about this when I should be catching up on some well-deserved shut eye?! A perfectly reasonable question, the answer to which is that I've been masturbating pretty much non-stop since I got home. Yes, slutty and crazy - a great combination :)
PS - I never did get Harry's number. Or his last name. I can't even remember his address (that's how dazed and confused I was when I left!). Chances are I'm never going to see or speak to him ever again - a true and proper one night stand with a complete and total stranger. Probably for the best though - that'll be a great way of sticking to my "one-time" rule ...
Monday, 13 August 2007
My Prize Pick of the Day ... 13/08/07
Seeking Secks - m4m - 27
Date: 2007-08-13, 12:39PM BST
I'm str8 and engaged, but not sure why I love sucking cock so much *** .....
[*** Hmmm, could it be because you're actually - shock, horror - bi/gay???]
P.S. - Couldn't be arsed pasting the rest :-)
Date: 2007-08-13, 12:39PM BST
I'm str8 and engaged, but not sure why I love sucking cock so much *** .....
[*** Hmmm, could it be because you're actually - shock, horror - bi/gay???]
P.S. - Couldn't be arsed pasting the rest :-)
Saturday, 11 August 2007
It's that time of the year again ...
Fever is having yet another Open House on the 7th of September, same time and same place as the last one. Yet again, I'm in two minds about going. Then again, Daniel will be around for this one. Then again, I don't want to get pawed by Jon whilst Lisa looks on fuming. Then again, I could just tell him to fuck off. Then again .....
Ah, fuck it. I'm not going!
Ah, fuck it. I'm not going!
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