Why hasn't he called?

He doesn’t like you that much. In a nutshell as much as he probably thought you were attractive and you got on well enough he didn’t like you that much and that’s it.

We girls are forgiving and we will often dream up a happy ending even when faced with the shitty facts. When we have a date we will it to go well, we imagine what it could look like months down the line and play out scenarios in our head. We plan for days in advance what we will wear and how we will style our hair and makeup.

To a guy it’s the chance to hopefully meet a fit bird; he will grab his usual ‘lucky’ shirt and head off to meet you after rubbing a bit of gel through his hair.

You’ll work hard to make a good first impression and be flirty and charming. You will sit there reminding yourself to do regular makeup checks so you look your best and he will sit there thinking about using the bathroom every half an hour seeing as the date is mainly drinks based.

There may be a little touchy feely on the date, if not, at the end he will likely go in for the goodnight kiss as this is a standard way to end the night. How does he draw it to a close otherwise? He may say he’d like to see you again and he will be in touch and he may simply say “I’ll call you.”

At this stage it means nothing, not a thing. Let’s see if he actually calls you. Most guys if keen will text to see if you got home ok, or text the next morning. Unless they are keen to get a physical date confirmed shortly after you’ve met then it ain't gonna happen.

If this isn’t happening but there is still a little contact you have been placed on the back burner, your role there is to wait as he may decide to see you again after all. Regardless it makes him feel good to know you are there if he needs you.

You will wait and wonder if he’s going to make that move and arrange to see you. Seems he’s gotten really busy with work this week and has those things coming up this weekend that have been booked in a while. No doubt he will pick back up with you in a week.

To know whether or not he is keen is simple. If he is, he is and it'll be obvious. He will arrange to see you again and set the date and I mean a fixed date not an “ill sort something out for the next week or so,” it’s a “so Tuesday at 7pm at Gordon’s.” Stop torturing yourself and either a) tell him you want to see him again outright so you know once and for all if he is up for it or b) know when you are being back burnered (made up word) and move on.

It was just one date for goodness sake and he was not the things you dreamt of. Go find another date and dream up a whole new range of scenarios….please!!!

Untitled - Chapter One (SE)

Untitled by Seren

Chapter One

I don't think I've said it yet but I feel like I'm saying it in my head. "Stop," Shit this isn't funny anymore. "Baby please, baby can you hear me...help me." I feel the fear grip me and I want this to stop, "yellow," I say then again "yellow," this time I am screaming it. "Yellow….yellow…..yellow."

His hands grip my throat and I am overpowered. Fuck I am so stupid always thinking I am so strong and can handle getting in to a bit of rough but this is different, this time I am not excited scared I am genuinely scared. My head hurts as his hands tighten on my throat and I feel myself slipping, Oh Jesus he could actually be about to kill me. I try to wriggle and fight him but he is pressing his hands in to my throat and I am exhausted. I just can’t fight him anymore.

The hotel door makes that buzzing noise like a key card has been placed in it. I wonder if I am hearing something I want to hear but hope grips me as light fills the room and he bursts in. He has a gun...what the fuck? A gun! He holds it up to the guy and he quickly gets off me, "get off my girl," he says and the guy does is backing away from me with great haste. "Mate this was fun I wasn't going to harm her, honestly, I would never have hurt her." He doesn't look at me or say anything to me, he just says to the guy "get your shit and get the fuck out," the guy gets his clothes, half dresses quickly and leaves. He doesn't look back or say anything. Mike shuts the door behind him and locks it.

He flips all the lights on and walks over to me; I am scrunched in a ball on the bed. My head hurts so badly but I know I am safe now and I suddenly start to sob. It comes in waves and Mike holds me tight. I feel a tear splash down on to my face from his. He's crying! I sit up and look at his face. "I love you, baby I fucking love you, I'm so sorry, oh god I wasn't going to come I thought you were messing round; shit a moment or two longer..." He is talking so quickly and he looks distraught, the fear in his eyes is so hard to see. "Sssh now," I say, "I don't know if he was going to harm me it just didn't feel right."

I have never seen Mike cry. I've seen him emotional but never crying and I can't bear it. I see how much he cares for me and how much he loves me. I love him in a way I never thought possible. I get a crazy feeling every single time I think of him...I don't just feel it in my belly it consumes my entire body. I am totally and utterly blown away by him. I wasn't sure I could ever love someone who likes what he likes but I do and I feel how much he loves me too.

"Take me home," I say. He grabs my things and puts his jacket on me and we leave the room. He puts the key cards on the side and leaves the door ajar. As we walk through the foyer he says to the receptionist, “we are done with room 305, the key cards are in there," she's about to say something but he is already walking away. He is in control always, he does his own thing but is respectful and in a round about way he does as he should just provided it’s on his terms.

We get outside and jump in to a cab. Ten minutes and we are home, Mike pays the driver and I walk ahead in to the foyer of our apartment complex. "Good evening Mrs R," I love Gerald on reception and I always have time for him but I don't want to chat tonight. I wave and say "hello Gerald I'm afraid I am feeling a little under the weather this evening so I'm going to go straight up," he looks concerned "oh Mrs R please let me get the lift for you." Mike comes over and joins us, "Gerald you are a true gent, thank you." Mike ushers me in to the open lift and presses floor 10, we both shout goodnight to Gerald. I am held tight as we ride the lift.

We walk in to our apartment and I am relieved to be home. "When do you want to talk about it?" I look at Mike, "I'm ok”, I say “I want to bathe and sip some wine and then I want you to take me to bed, let’s just do that for now." He picks the bottle of Pinot Noir up from the side, opens it and says "I'll pour you a glass in a bit," he then pours some cognac in to a glass, opens the ice tray and adds a few cubes and passes it to me. "Sit and have this first," I do as I am told.

Mike walks toward the bathroom and I hear the taps turn and the water gush out, a faint smell of Rose comes from the room and I see candles being lit. He comes toward me takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom; he undresses me tenderly and holds my hand as I step in to the rather warm water. He walks out and then returns with a glass of noir. He kisses the top of my head and leaves again.

I can hear him in the bedroom, no doubt he is making the room lovely and welcoming, he then returns with my phone on the docking station and selects Ludivcio Einadi. "I love you," he says. "And I am bandy for you," is my response.

I lie in the bath and think about the night. Mike is never far away when I am with another guy. He wants me to have fun and be safe but he also likes to be with me when I am done. We started out like this and three years in this is what we do. When I'm with a guy I call Mike so he can listen in. Once the guy I am with leaves Mike comes to the room. He says he likes to know I have been pounded by someone and then he takes me.  Knowing I am often sore he is tender with me as I tell him all the detail of what I have done.

Mike comes in to the bathroom and holds out a clean, fluffy robe, its emblazoned with a star and the letter S, the initial stands for the name he calls me. Seren means star. To anyone else it’s probably a squiggle and a design but as soon as I saw it what it meant. It’s amazing that I can look at the fresh plump white robe and feel a rush of love; I step out and stand naked in front of Mike. He still looks me up and down like it’s the first time he is seeing me and his eyes look like they want to possess my body. It used to intimidate me and it still gives me a flutter but I now live for that look.

I don’t look as I would ideally like to but I am probably the best I have been in a decade, at 34 I think I had a choice to get my body in order or let it go. My face is a little younger looking and I am very curvy. Mike told me quite early on that he saw my big round ass walking through London Victoria and he wanted to own it. Weirdly I didn’t feel at all upset when he said it I just remember feeling proud of my arse and thankful that it had attracted him, maybe the size of it was a good thing if it caught his eye.

I now workout three times a week and try to do lunges and weights to tone. My legs will always be big but they have a better shape now. My breasts are fairly firm thanks to the weights and my arse although not much smaller is tighter than it was. I am still a bit overweight but I think I have a balance of being able to enjoy wine and good food with getting and keeping a fairly toned shape. I suppose in some ways I did it for Mike but also for me, I wanted to feel better in front of him and be able to enjoy him without the self-conscious feeling I had. From the first time I slept with him I started to get fit and balance my intake with two days of fasting each week.

I step in to the robe and Mike wraps it around me, he turns me to him and pulls the tie tight to my middle. “Like a perfect little parcel,” he says to me. He holds me close to him and guides me through to our bedroom. The cushions have been taken off the bed and the covers pulled back. There is a scented candle burning in the corner reflecting off the mirrors over the wardrobes Mike had built in. We walk toward the bed and he opens my robe, rubs it up and down my body to dry me off and drops it to the floor, I am once again naked. Mike kisses my neck and shoulders and gently runs his fingers through my hair tilting my head back as he traces his tongue up my neck.

He is so gentle with me but I feel an ache in my neck as I lift my head back, I suppose its tender from where the guy tried to throttle me. Shit, did that actually happen just a few hours ago? Mike picks up a black chemise he set aside and holds it up over my head, “lift your arms,” he says and I do as requested. He slips the chemise over me and I feel the cold satin slip down my over my nipples, my body gives a little shiver.

Mike looks at me, “are you ok?” I feel like I am so I nod, in fact when I am with him I feel like nothing can get to me. I feel like he coats me in something so no harm can come to me. As soon as I step away from him I feel vulnerable to all the things others are vulnerable to. I never knew I could love like this. Head over heels has nothing on how I feel. I am consumed by him and he is my obsession.

I get in bed and Mike jumps in right beside me. I wrap myself around him, he kisses me and I can feel his breath in my hair, he whispers “my sexy ass oyster,” he has always laughed at how I cling to him and has called me oyster, and that’s how pearl was named. “I think I’m going to kiss pearl,” he says, he shifts down the bed and wraps his lips around me, he moves his head from side to side and rocks my body. He once told me that he was going to give me the “head of my life” and he was right. He puts his all in to kissing, licking and nibbling between my legs and it drives me insane. I am cupped in his mouth as he rocks his face and licks at me until I cum to a crashing orgasm, it’s always so intense that I literally scream out and there have been times I have been brought to tears.

The orgasm is amazing. Mike doesn’t let up when he gives me oral; he goes hard and fast as I feel my orgasm build and it’s almost a sharp sudden pain of an orgasm but it feels so fucking sweet and it literally takes my breath away.

He kisses my mouth and asks if I taste good, he has always liked making me kiss him or suck his fingers after they have been used in and on me. “Mmmmm” I say and he slips in to me. Mike has a long and fairly thick penis. If I could choose it I’d make it a little shorter as there are some days it feels too much but then I suppose I wouldn’t be telling him when it felt that way and I know how much he loves to hear it.

My legs are spread apart and flat out, it’s a basic position but we are doing this gently tonight. I move my pelvis in time with him and he kisses me throughout. Our hands are running up and down each other’s bodies and in to our hair. Mike’s hair is thick now, I like that he has grown it and I like the feel my fingers in his hair when we make love.

I close my eyes and rock with Mike, our breathing is quite evenly matched and we both gasp and moan as we build to our climax. It’s so important to him that we both cum and he will do all he can to get it to happen at the same time. This happens almost always, when we want it to we can but I’m pretty relaxed about it. The sex is sensational so I can live with the odd occasion it’s not a perfect syncronisation but I know Mike won’t allow for that.

I push my head back in to the pillow and let out a long moan, Mike smiles at me and we move together. Tonight I want to forget that another man was in me and I just want to think of Mike, I look at him and see his face change as the orgasm builds in him, his eyes are so intense and he looks like he is getting high on something. I think sex is his drug and this is a habit that has been passed to me. For this man I am a total junkie.

We look at each other and Mike is close to cumming, I get so turned on every time I see that in his face. I let my head float back and I push my pelvis, I can feel it coming and then its there. My entire body lets out a shudder and Mike thrusts hard and deep and then pushes his dick in to me as hard as he can as he cums inside me.

My mouth has gone dry from the gasping and moaning. I look around for some water and then Mike gets up, “do you want a drink sweetheart?” I ask for some water and Mike returns with a bottle of Evian. He won’t let me have a glass by my bed for fear I will smash it in the night and hurt myself.
 

I sip some water and offer it to Mike which he declines. “Let’s sleep,” he says. We lie there in the juices of our sex and Mike pulls me in to him. We will spoon like this all night. When I wake up in the morning I know I will be in the same embrace and that makes me feel so safe.

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I wish I was you..

Hmmm do you really? Let me tell you what it’s like to be me. Firstly, what you see is a confident woman who always (or as often as possible) looks well put together and as is often commented “immaculate” in appearance.

I go to nice places and I experience new things, this year I have been to Los Angeles, San Diego, Dubai, Spain and New York. Not too shabby and all a great experience. I date and tend to have a lot of options when it comes to men. I have a good job and spend time a lot of time enjoying the bright lights of the city. I own my own home and it’s really quite lovely.

I am outgoing and have a good network of friends. I have a family who now understand me and celebrate how I am a little more unique as opposed to being seen as the pink sheep (as I was always called) of the family.

This all sounds great right? In many ways it is and I am very lucky but behind closed doors, actually no because it still all looks wonderful, behind my bedroom or bathroom door the woman isn’t quite the one the world gets to see. This one is pretty scared and a little lost!

I will always be thankful for the fact I appear confident. I am not awful to look at and my curves allow people to forgive the fact I am a little overweight.  I can charm my way out of difficult situations often masking things I have gotten or done wrong and I am kind natured which allows me to have good friendships.

I am not lonely I don’t think. I have always craved my own space and now I have it. I keep myself busy so I never have to sit and think for too long. In fact this scares me, whenever I do I suddenly analyse my life and its total lack of direction and it starts to feel out of control. You see I have a need for control. I need to control people and ideally their feelings and I need to control what they see so as to preserve an image of myself. The thought of someone seeing me scared, vulnerable, knowing I don’t know where I am going or what I am doing and being aware of my overwhelming fear of rejection is a thought that brings vomit to my mouth.

I am telling myself right now that nobody will read this and therefore it is ok. I really don’t know at this point in time if I will share it? It’s often entertaining for me to not really know what I will do. I am often thought to be spontaneous and I suppose that must be right, I surprise myself sometimes but that is scary in itself. I have a wreckless nature coupled with a controlling one and there will always be a clash.

I have a decent job but could do something far better and more fulfilling if I just had the guts to risk it. The idea of failing though and being seen to fail, as much as I would try not to, well I can’t allow for that to even be a possibility. How would I ever bounce back if it happened?

I had therapy 12 months ago to help me overcome a breakup of a long relationship. I know I didn’t tell my therapist everything, I even challenged myself not to cry in front of her and as broken as I was it took 5 months for me to show tears and I regretted it every day after. I wanted my therapist to see someone who was ok and getting through a tough time so I always made sure I had a nice outfit well-coordinated and my hair and makeup was nicely done. What the hell is that about? She was my therapist for goodness sake and most people turned up to sessions in their pyjamas!

I once relayed a tale to her, well not a tale an account of a time in my life and she cried! She bloody cried, not me! She then said it was unnatural to draw a tear from another about an emotional time of my life but tell it in such a way it was as if I was reading  someone else’s diary. It shocked her how well I could detach from the emotion that should accompany such a retold event! Hmmm, so I was a bit fucked up it would seem!

She made me talk about things and tell her how I felt, we often had to go over the same things until I could match the appropriate retelling of how I felt to the event I was covering. It was hard work and I couldn’t quite recall the sadness or despair of situations, I dug as deep as I could but it seemed I had buried out of reach.

There was one day where I told my therapist of my fear of rejection, well she told me, she asked why I feared it. I thought I was just made that way but she probed and probed and asked me to recall a time I felt rejected. I told her that my husband would often not show me attention, not in a way of being cold he would cuddle me until the cows came home but he wouldn’t always kiss me when I wanted to be kissed, or touch me when I wanted to be touched, or make love to me when I wanted him to make love to me. I told her how it felt and I felt overwhelmed as the words came out, I tried to talk about how it made me feel unattractive, not good enough, like I wasn’t someone who deserved such attention and the tears came.

The tears didn’t stop coming, I was embarrassed, mortified even and I confirmed that to her. Weirdly she looked sorry for me but also triumphed; apparently this is what I needed to do?  I have tried to continue this, I now tell people when I am not ok and I try to describe how I feel but it’s not easy. I was told I have a built in self soother and I will always try to manage my own shit and when it’s too much I will bury it and move forward.

So, I am not all that. I have my demons and I will always be an outwardly confident person who is really just trying to grow real confidence in the hope it can reach the levels I portray. I will continue to wish I was prettier, slimmer, better shaped, funnier, have nicer hair, a smaller and more proportioned nose, nicer legs, brighter eyes and a personality that someone will one day love.

I see people look at me and think I love myself and I will allow you to think it. One day I hope I will. I believe that when I do someone will fall in love with me at the same time so I am determined to get there. I will remind myself of the kind I do and how I will go without for others if need be. How I worry for others and want them to be happy is a good quality I’m sure. I will try to love myself for who I am not who I wish I was and I will continue to build on sharing as it seems this is the best therapy one can ever get. It allows people to get closer to me and to know the real me and when I see that they stay I realise I can’t be all that bad.

As I finish this I feel my eyes are filled with water, I know I am not the ice queen many will see and as I sit at the back of a café I don’t hide my face in shame. I’m not blubbing I am just a little watery eyed and apparently this is ok? I’m told it’s not abnormal and if someone notices and sees ‘little miss well put together’ with a tear in her eye they won’t judge me. They may feel a little sorry for me but at least they are seeing someone closer to who I actually am.  I may one day feel envy for me and also feel it is for who I am, if someone then says “I wish I was you” I hope it feels really good rather than the fraud I feel when I hear it now.

69's just for kids?

Watching a film the other day I heard a comment which said 69's were only relevant when we were young and needed to cram in as much as we could before our parents came home.

 

I was relieved to think that possibly one of the good things about reaching this age is that I don't have to indulge the 69 position.  

Having been recently asked to partake. I have concluded this person showed the immaturity of their sexual requirements.

I'm sorry but I take oral seriously, I like to think I know what I am doing and am rather good so just lie back and enjoy it and when I am receiving of such pleasure it's the one bloody time I do not want to multi task. 

I also believe that most men need a little guidance (if not a lot) and that's difficult with a mouth full.

It always looks good in the movies but anytime I have tried it I have felt like a trussed up turkey. It really is an unattractive position and it's genitalia overload.

I feel far from sexy squatting over the face of whatever lucky guy I've embarked on the activity with. I'm also yet to be convinced it's a good position to bring me to orgasm and it's all about that for me!

I remember the activity more fondly when I was in my late teens...was it the fact time was so snatched or were they in vogue and therefore the done thing to do? Maybe it just felt cool.

Either way I have decided to drop them from my repitoire and to assume a guy is sexually immature if he tries to add it back in. I will of course stay open minded to a guy who could bring it back in to fashion for me...you never know.

The Farmer (SE)

It seemed a useful exercise to view properties considering my marriage was over and I would be needing my own place at some stage. I decided to look at a quaint old terraced house down an alleyway in the heart of town. For the first time ever I was thinking about properties I like without having to ask anyone else what they thought…it was refreshing and I realised that I had a clear idea of what I wanted to live in. Something old and cosy, with exposed beams and a lovely warm feel.

I took my gal pal for morale support and was told by the agents the vendor would meet me as it was his preference to show the property himself. I had a jumper dress with a polka dot scarf and knee high boots plus jacket…not a knock out outfit but nicely put together. Gal pal came up from work and looked sophisticated as always.

We reached the property and a tall, dark haired chap met us. He was unremarkable and a little awkward, possibly shy? He showed us in and we asked if we should remove our shoes to which he advised we didn’t but removed his as they were rather mucky. He informed us that he had been up at his other property a farm; he needed to sell the town house to free up some capital. He talked us through the work he had done on the property and he seemed very proud. Gal Pal asked lots of questions but I was fairly quiet…everything was a little daunting. I wasn’t my confident, bolshie self-that’s for sure!

As we left and thanked him he asked me some questions; do you go out in the town much? Where? How often? I was in a state of despair and my mind wasn’t really working but I was pretty sure he was flirting with me. For the first time ever I felt a little vulnerable with it, I almost hid behind my gal pal. I’ve been able to work the flirt since I was 3 years old…this was not me at all! As we walked away Gal Pal said he was flirting with me, so it wasn’t just me thinking it. He also watched me walk away…not having that protective layer of being in a relationship had made such a difference.

It hadn’t been long since the split but the split was a long time coming and I felt ready for a bit of adventure…or so I though! In a moment of madness I engaged with the person I remembered from a long time ago and I emailed the estate agent and said I was interested and asked for the seller’s number to continue dialogue directly. It was given to me and I text a very nice and pleasant but purely about the house message. The response was “I wanted to ask for your number too but I was too shy”. Argh!!!!!!!!!!!! What now?

There was continued contact and then the dreaded let's meet conversation came up. I told him of my situation and that I was recently separated but it didn’t put him off. The date issue was weighing on my mind and he suggested I pop to see him at the farm one evening instead…I decided to do this but when I was sat at work doing my makeup I started to feel sick.

I drove to the Surrey countryside to a remote farm and realised that I could be about to be murdered and chopped up, in some ways that was suddenly less frightening that the bloody date itself?? I got to the door and he let me in with the biggest smile on his face, “he had text earlier in the day to say he was excited”, why would you do that? I had a red simple dress on with black tights and black shoes; I was offered a glass of wine and opted for a red which I then nursed for the next two hours and it wasn't a great one! We talked a lot and I felt a bit more relaxed, he seemed a bit thrown by my conversation and told me I was “too intelligent, too articulate and too knowledgeable”, either he was stupid or I had been upgraded without knowing about it as I am lucky to be any of those things let alone too much of them!

We sat on the sofa chatting away and we then both suddenly noticed that I had been collecting up the cushions and piling them around me. I had built myself a little moat and I think it was clear I wasn't up for anything. I was enjoying chatting and the little bit of flirting but I wasn't sure I fancied him much and he wasn't very interesting, he was just easy I suppose. I made my excuses to leave late evening but we agreed to see each other again and so we did.

The second date was much the same, we went out for dinner and I insisted we split the bill. It was fun and flirty and the conversation was light. There was a deep kiss when we returned from the restaurant to the farm and hands started to wander, not tonight was my standard line and the farmer told me that he wanted to "make love to me", I said he wanted to have sex with me but it was not making love, he told me that as far as he was concerned he would be making love to me. I knew he wouldn't be, how could he? I did like the idea he might be gentle with me though. I had been sleeping with the same guy for the last 9 years and although I wasn't half as nervous as I thought I would be it was still a big step.

Our third date arrived. I had to go to the farm straight from work, I didn't feel as glam as I'd like but my colleague helped touch up my makeup and I was wearing a wrap around dress that was demure with a hint of cleavage. I didn't know what I wanted to happen tonight but the dress of choice certainly covered every eventuality.

I arrived at the farm and was greeted with a kiss, it was a long kiss with his fingers running through my hair. He showed me through to the main room and there was a roaring fire, the room was dimly lit and there was a bottle of red waiting for me, the wine was a decent quality and he had clearly put some thought in to it, it was definitely not his normal stock. I took in the room and knew for sure I was about to be seduced.

We talked a little and this kissing began. He was an expert kisser and I felt totally at ease. His hands started to wander and he gently cupped his hands over my breasts, he trailed his hands down my body and gripped me tightly and he kissed me deeper. Having only been touched by my husband for as long as I could remember, I was surprised by how natural it all felt. He wasn't knocking my socks off by a long shot but I felt comfortable and in control and that was what I needed.

He stood up and pulled me to my feet. I stood in front of him and realised how tall he was. He wasn't stunning, far from it, but certainly not unpleasant to look at and he was dark haired and broad shouldered. Most importantly I decided that if I did this and didn't see him again I would feel ok and in knowing that I continued. I knew there was no risk of falling for such a good and therefore I was in complete control of my emotions.

He started to undress me and he kissed my shoulders, the dress fell to the floor and I stood there in my shoes, matching cream and black lace knickers and bra. I didn't feel self conscious as I had expected to, in fact I felt incredibly confident. He removed his top and slipped the belt from his jeans. We continued kissing and undressing as we made our way to the fire place, in front of it was a large fluffy cream rug and we stood upon it. We were totally naked, without my shoes there was quite a height difference but the feeling of being much smaller than him was a comforting one.

We stood their kissing and the flame of the fire reflected on our bodies, I wasn't excited in a way of 'I cant wait for him to take me' but I was enjoying it and wanted to have sex with him. I knew that this was more about me moving on and knowing that I would never sleep with my husband again than it was about this man.

The flicker of orange and yellow red tones continued over our bodies and we now lay on the rug kissing and looking at each other. He said he wanted to make love to me again and rather than argue the point I simply said "ok".  He kissed me continually and run his hands up and down my skin, the warmth of the fire was lovely and as he parted my legs and eased in to me I felt like we had done this a hundred times before. He moved easily and his experience was clear. He knew where to position himself and how to build a continued motion, the pressure was spot on (and I mean spot on) and his thrusts were as you would instruct but I wasn't lost in it. It was just good I suppose.

He looked in to my eyes and asked me if I was close. I knew I could be if I wanted but I didn't want to come. I felt totally in control and this was lovely but this was more about sleeping with another man and accepting I was single and able to do what I liked. I didn't really want him to make love to me and I didn't want to engage with looking in his eyes as I orgasm. This was a practical exercise. I said I probably wouldn't and he looked angry or upset, I'm not sure what it was but he wasn't happy.

He started to thrust in to me with more determination, he lifted my hips and pushed up at a different angle and I suddenly felt warmer and my body was feeling this more than it had. I heard myself say "take me from behind. He pulled out of me and turned me over. I was on my hands and knees and he knelt behind me, he pushed in to me from behind and he wasn't easing in this time, the thrust was sudden and firm and he wrapped his broad arms around my waist pulling me back as he thrust in to me, I didn't need to do much. I said "careful" and "that's pretty deep" and he just replied "I want you to want this", I felt like I did as he said it, I'd clearly not shown much enthusiasm up to now! As much as I needed to do this and 'tick the box' I now wanted this, I let my head drop back and this seemed to be a clear sign I was started to enjoy it. He pulled on my shoulders and came right up on his knees with his strong thighs working hard as he pushed himself up and in to me.

The enjoyment took over, I was not being made love to but I was being taken, firmly and completely. I followed his lead, as he pulled me to him I let myself go and I could feel my legs shudder. I hadn't wanted it when we were slowly "making love" but this animal, fast sex without looking in to each others eyes was what I needed.  I embraced the feeling of warmth running through my body and the shudder that was so obviously taking hold of me. My body threw itself in to the motion of being pulled back and being deeply pushed in to and I knew I was going to orgasm. I positioned myself and started to lead the motion for maximum effect.

The fire started to feel overwhelmingly warm and I felt clammy, I needed to push my hair back from my face and tried to sit back and raise my hands to do this. He took this as a sign I wanted to change the position slightly and sat back as I sat pressed against him still faced away. I was rocking back on him as he grabbed at my breasts and made low grunting noises, I was in control of the pace and had picked a fast one. I thrust myself back at him as he thrust in to me and there it suddenly was, I cried out unexpectedly and heard him say "yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssss" as he clearly came too.

We both fell flat on to the rug and manoeuvred in to a position where he lay front up and I was wrapped around him, the fire felt less intense now and I just lay there looking at the shadows again as they moved over our now rather slick bodies.

I knew that as much as this had been a success this was not the start of something with him but was definitely the start of my next chapter. I felt strong, feminine, sexy and ready to get out there and enjoy my new life. I wasn't thinking I would sleep with every man I could but I knew I would embrace feeling desired and experiencing sex with someone other than my husband. I accepted in that moment that I would never sleep with the man I had shared a bed for 9 years ever again and I felt no sorrow about it. We had enjoyed each other and I was clear about what I liked but also how to get the best of sex. I wasn't a woman who had never experienced an orgasm and although this guy was experienced I knew my sexual education had helped me to orgasm with someone new...it wasn't about the man so much, it was about me knowing me and I did.

I left him at the farm and went home giggling to myself, I felt totally alive. The next day at work I was told I had a blush to my cheeks, I wondered if I had toasted in the warmth of the fire but I think the glow was knowing that I was on fire...and I was a woman in control again!

Disposable Dates

We live in a society where everything is disposable and you can have what you like now and pay for it later. This is fundamentally different to the way the older generations operated and I wonder what impact this has on relationships?  The only thing I can think of that I have to invest in first and can never say “I’ll pay later” is my car. I have to put the fuel in up front, I have no choice and there is no way around this. Clearly we could go deep here and say I could pay for the fuel on my credit card and it’s a very good point but it’s also a tangent I don’t want to take.

When I look at my grandparents and a lot of my friend’s parents as well I see a ‘until death’ bond. My grandparents chose their life partners and stuck with them and this was generally done in their early 20’s if not sooner. Separating and divorce were seldom heard of and you never really got a sense that there was unhappiness, it wasn’t openly discussed that’s for sure!

I made a statement to the world when I was no longer happy in my marriage. I left it and divorced. Talk about airing your dirty laundry! My grandparents (bar one) were gone by the time it happened but I do wonder what their reaction would have been. My grandmother seems to have appreciated that I must have strongly felt that it was the right decision and never really questioned it but I should ask what her thoughts on the matter are…maybe I haven’t done this yet as I may not like her view point?

When I was at the end of my tether with my marriage and no longer believed it was salvageable I knew I could leave and divorce and that it would be ok. It seems to be more acceptable to dispose of a relationship, and indeed a marriage now, than it’s ever been.  Lucky for me I suppose as it was dead, no more time would have revived it and if I had to stay I think a part of me would have wilted away.

Since I have been dating (a period soon to have its 2^nd anniversary) I have noticed that relationships seem to be ‘have it now, buy it later’ approaches. There is no upfront investment or the wooing stage as I would call it. Most just jump straight in especially when it comes to sleeping together and then work out how much time you want to invest in each other from there. The goods are given upfront and I feel like we are trading commodities.

I think sex is incredibly important and I’d rather know soon on if there is compatibility but to be honest I have generally felt that if the kissing is good the sex will be so I should admit that a lot of that is tosh and it’s more about servicing the need. I have a need for sex and that’s what I want and I will then get to know the person over time to see if I want to then cuddle up with them, meet their friends, cook for them etc. They seem to be the things given most consideration; I’ll sleep with someone but whoa now, dinner with my friends? Steady on tiger!

After a period of dating (and having a need serviced) if it’s felt there isn’t an interest in the other elements then it’s easy to decide not to see each other again. In fact it seems ok and not a rare experience to just suddenly stop contact. How awful! We treat each other like disposables, it’s like a new shiny iPad that you enjoy playing with and download all the sexy apps. You play with it a bit more and realise it’s quite limited and a bit bulky to carry around and it’s not as new and fun as it was so you set it down and return less frequently and then you can’t recall where you set it down but nor do you care.

The backlash for behaving in this way is what? Nothing, nadder, nowt, niente! Reputation doesn’t matter. We are in a transient environment and are ultimately just a name and a little bit of information, when it comes to relationships we are not vetted by anyone, there is no reference check and therefore we can behave however the hell we like and leave a wake of victims behind us. Is this encouraging us to treat people like dirt? Is it because we can get away with it that we make the most of it? If our grandparents hadn’t needed to care about their reputations, the shame on their families and the whole community knowing their business might they have jacked in relationships easier and moved on if they were indeed ever unhappy or unsatisfied?

As things in life are easier to come by and disposing of things we own (or will one day) continue will relationships soon be the same? Will we stop hearing the question “Are you courting?” and hear “Are you trying anybody out right now?”

I consider making someone ‘work for it’ or show enough of an investment before I give them a piece of me but in all honesty, I am also not sure I want to buy in that much myself, especially if I don’t need to? The expectation isn’t that I really get to know someone or let them get to know me but I can still have the apps I like. I can get the dinner app, watch movies together app, sex app, fun nights out app and so on but I don’t have to worry about the ‘I’ll be there for you when you have had a bad day’ app or ‘I will ask about your feelings’ app. I didn’t think I was going to be like this and I do at times feel pretty shallow but I don’t feel any real pressure to behave any differently…wow, maybe I am a fan of disposable buy now pay laters too? L

Tinder-ella and the joy of playing Man Snap

It was great to be with the girls. The group hadn't been together in a while and as you find when you are with fantastic people you would never know it.  Brief recaps of what we've done since the last time we were all together are thrown out there excitedly. Most around the table are in relationships and although I have been single (ish...well on and off..its complicated...no single let's say single!) for the last 20 months and am not the only one, I am the one we land on for the hot man goss!

I'd love to say we maintain lady like behaviour at all times but that's cow crap and we know it.  As the dating stories unfold a few photos are shared of some men I have had the pleasure of spending time with...Mr NYC gets a resounding thumbs up from the circle and a few photos of those who may be lucky enough to enjoy my company are also flashed. We debate which one looks the best and whether they look to be players or not. It's quite amazing what you can take from a photo!

One of the girls pipes up with "are you on Tinder?" my vacant look of response confirms I am not, nor do I know of it's existence. "Oh my god...you have got to get on it", a quick tutorial immediately takes place using her profile and before you know it I have downloaded the app, linked it with my Facebook giving immediate access to my name, age and profile photos - bloody hell how did that happen? I am live just like that...shit!!! I want to check my profile photos but this photo game is so much fun. Apparently the 'game' is you get a photo and an age pop up on your screen and then you use your finger to swipe left if you are not interested and swipe right if you are.

Somewhere in another pub, or on a park bench or a train a man will be looking at Tinder and I will pop up, he can swipe left (oh the thought of that is sickening....what's wrong with me?) or swipe right (please, please, please pick me!). If I have swiped right and the same man (or men as it was!) also swipe me right then its SNAP!!! It literally is like the game. I get one! Woo hoo...I got swiped right too! And then another, boom this is awesome!

I leave the pub and my gal pal and I drive home. At each traffic light we play the swipe left and right game and woop as the SNAPS come in. And then some messages...man this is fun! A nice message is received and I send a nice one back, this guy looks like a good un' and he only lives 11 miles away.

The next message is not the most intelligent I have ever read..."You are hot. Do you want to hook up?", its like a scene from Pride and Prejudice this!...I am not stupid but just to confirm I say, "thank you, by hook up you mean?" and the response is "SEX." Gorgeous! Yep that's what I am looking for...clearly some people only need to know your name, age and see a couple of facebook profile shots (may not be yours, may be old, it matters not). I was tempted to hire a transvestite and send them in my place but I realise that there is nothing wrong with his question and I should get over it and just politely decline which I do...I am learning to play nice even with the romance killers!!!

Lots of matches come in and I hit a bit of a high, unfortunately it's short lived and I now have an inbox with 27 men matches that I now need to consider a lot of questions in order to ascertain if there is any point in us even getting in to chat let alone a meet. Some of the men seem decent and I am hoping that this isn't just another way of finding one night stands...I have been pleased to see there are some Rupert's, Hugo's, Benedict's, Giles and Oliver's (soft spot for posh names)...my snap matches all (apart from Mr let's have sex) seem ok, nice names, good ages and they have generally stated their heights to be at 6 foot plus...this means they are over 5'10" generally which works for me.

Once I am over the excitement of my new game it starts to feel a little shallow. I try not to give it too much thought, I suppose this is how it is now? I'm pretty sure this isn't how I will meet someone but it could be fun and I will still drum up some Disney Prince and Princess meeting in my head even if it does start with two right swipes of Tinder!

Tinderalla has been born as have the Tinder Tales...I will of course share all of the juicy details with you...

Seren x