Motel

I met another blogger yesterday (well, met again). I'm not going to say much, but I thought the picture here gives a bit of an idea. It was very good fun.

In which I meet another blogger...

Christmas day - after I'd done the family stuff - I sat in a park and chatted for a couple of hours with another blogger. A sex blogger, of course. She and I read each others' stuff, we email a bit and we decided it'd be fun to meet. And it was.

It was a chaste affair, the two of us sitting on the hard-baked ground, a dozen or so yards from some boisterous family groups. I suspect I did quite a lot more talking than listening (for which I apologize, a bit half-heartedly) but I'd been doing family stuff for a few days on the trot and I was eager for some adult conversation.

What was she like, I can hear you ask? Articulate, sensible and adventurous!

Women.

I love this: someone found this blog by typing the word "women" into google!

Update (I know you've been wondering)

Monday night: a date, which went fairly well until I told her that my last real relationship was with a guy. She didn't seem to mind but it made me feel like a weirdo.

Tuesday night: theater with Iris. I told her my Claire dilemma - she's met Claire, amazingly enough. Spent an hour on the phone with Claire in the evening.

Wednesday afternoon: Harriet cut my hair, and did a superb job. I'm once again smokin' hot. Then on the way back to my place I dropped in on Claire in her studio. I was reminded again of how incredibly gorgeous she is.

Wednesday night: out with Judith, a few drinks then sex and a sleepover. She told me something more about herself, it turns out she's incredibly well-connected and may end up being a useful contact for some work I'm trying to do.

Thursday: hangover, also very tired. Out for drinks with people you don't need to know about.

Friday: lunch with Claire. We had japanese then lay on the grass in the park. I've had such a superb week. I just can't see how my life could be any better.

I'm all in knots about Claire.

I had dinner with Claire the other night, and towards the end of the dinner we started having the big talk, the talk we've been avoiding. I never know what I want, even with Claire, so I find this sort of thing really difficult. But if you'd asked me (and I had discussed this with Sam) I would have said that my ideal would be to keep it just where it is right now.... not advancing, not retreating. Just as it is.

Anyway, much to my surprise that's exactly what Claire wants too. Which of course made me not want it. I go through in my mind all the reasons why being in a relationship with Claire would be bad for me, but I end up coming back to the hard fact that I'm completely crazy about her. And now that she doesn't want a relationship I feel jilted, dropped, dumped, even though I don't want one either.

Here's a snippet of dialog, as close to verbatim as I can get it..

Me: you remember that night we had sex?
Claire: yes, very well
Me: you remember I was reluctant at first? Do you have any idea why?
Claire: no.....
Me: I just KNEW if we slept together I'd fall in love with you
Claire: (pause) but you've slept with everyone in Sydney... how is this different
Me: it just IS different

Lovely evening.

Thursday afternoon I had invited Friendly Policeman (who I'll now call FC, for the purposes of this blog) over to my place so we could share Jane (as described in my last post - by the way, she loved seeing him fucking me). Last night he returned the favour. I went over to his place about 830 and we sat around talking for a while. He's quite an interesting and thoughtful man.

When I chatted with Jane after our fuck-fest she said that she thought he came across as being very gay (except when he was fucking her, of course). But you'd expect that: he's an out gay man who happens to like sex with women. I have a few gay friends who are 'straight-curious', some of them even like watching straight porn, but they like the straightforwardness and availabilty of gay sex too much. Friendly Cop told me that after he'd come out as gay in his early 20s he'd been quite happy, then in his mid-30s he started lusting after women, and then in the last few years had re-engaged with them. Sexuality really is fascinating. He hasn't told his colleagues he fucks women - he said the police force is very tolerant and accomodating to gay men and that if he came out as being a bit straight it'd get complicated.

After a while his friend Tina arrived. She's a very well-preserved and lively woman in her early 40s. We sat around chatting for half an hour or so (I was, of course, being completely charming) then at FC's suggestion we went into the bedroom where he and I took it in turns fucking her for what seemed to me to be a couple of hours (but you know what a short attention span I have). FC and I would give each other little hand signals: "good job!", "your turn", "you take the other end" etc. And there was a large mirror on the wardrobe so it did all have that agreeable porny quality to it.

Afterwards we all got dressed, then she drove me home. She sent me an email this morning (must have gotten my address from FC) with a very nice thank you and the tantalising sentence "Would love to explore more stuff with you."

Back on deck.

I've turned down a couple of opportunities this week - Joan again, and Sarah. I'm busy and a bit stressed and not especially horny. Unlike me, I know.

Those of you who've been with me for a long time will remember the week I had 3 doctor-patient roleplays in one week, and how two of them involved married women and the other one was a married man. What a week. I speculated on here about the possibility of me and the married man (who I chat with once in a while on msn) giving married woman number 1 (the one who's not Sarah, let's call her Jane) a thorough going-over.

Well we finally organised it. It was going to be this afternoon. Dr Steve (the married guy) runs very hot and cold. We chat, he's very into it, then when we try to plan an actual meet he goes a bit flaky. I can understand this to a certain extent - he has a busy job and is married - but he doesn't return texts and emails and it all makes it a bit difficult.

This morning I texted him and I had the feeling that he wasn't going to be able to make it. So I rang the Friendly Policeman and explained the situation. He was on duty this afternoon, but as luck would have it, was working out of the police station just near my apartment. I told him to be at my place at 4.

I'm not going to go into much detail but here's a quick highlight: at one point, Friendly Policeman was fucking me while I was going down on Jane. Now, when I describe it like this it sounds fantastic, and she certainly loved it, but I found myself strangely unthrilled. Bizarre really. There I was, living out one of my all-time biggest fantasies (and ticking one of the few remaining items on my list) and I was a bit meh about the whole thing.

Luckily, Jane's husband keep calling her in a very stalker-ish way and she started to freak out and had to leave. She told us that she'd blurted out a couple of days ago to him, apropos of nothing in particular, that she'd like to have sex with other men. "Which other men?", he asked. "Lots of men.. at the same time" she answered and he didn't either 1) go completely mental or 2) get horny. He didn't respond at all and it's made me quite uneasy. Now she's starting to think he's following her. I told her that if my then-wife had said that to me I would first have thought it was a trap of some sort (yes I'm extremely cautious around her, but you would be too) but then, if I thought she was for real I would have started to get all sorts of ideas.... But, as she pointed out, I'm not at all like her husband.

I'm picky

On one 'adult dating' site I'm on, quite a few of the women have this in their profiles:

-----///\\-----Plz
----///-\\\----Put This
---|||---|||---On Your
---|||---|||---account If
---|||---|||---You Know
----\\\-///----Someone
-----\\///-----Who Died
------///\-----Of
-----///\\\----Cancer
----///--\\\---Or whom maybe suffering from it

No! No! A thousand times No! It's who, not whom.

Mr Swimwear again

You know that feeling, you're walking along the street, minding your own business and you see someone you know but you can't quite remember where you know them from? Happened to me again the other day, I saw a guy I vaguely recognised, I could tell he recognised me but was similarly unsure. We exchanged a tentative smile and a nod. I realised later on it was Mr Swimwear! Which reminds me, I must visit his shop, this time I have legitimate business. It's summer here after all.

Booty calls!

I was at the gym today with my trainer and my phone rang. I didn't pick it up because it was in my fucking gym locker - I'm not the sort of weiner who would carry a phone while I'm doing weights. As luck would have it, it was the one hour of today where I not only wasn't carrying my phone, I was actually busy.

It was David. He'd gotten a phone call from Horny Housewife (I can't think of a codename for her; that'll do) and she was in town with a friend and they'd gotten bored with shopping and both wanted to be fucked, hard. He called me, I wasn't around. When I spoke to him later on he said he'd done the best he could with just one cock. HH apparently asked him to see if he could find me, so I must have made an impression on her. I wasn't all that upset to have missed out on this one, I'm still a little under weather.

And then, as I was having my dinner I got a text from Natalie. "Natalie?", I hear you ask. I've played with her a few times (in fact, she was the reason I was a bit tender and sore in the groin the day I ended up fucking Claire) but I've not written about it. Not for any particular reason, but remember that I don't put everything in here. To get an estimate of how busy my sex life is, take the activity I report on in this blog and then gross it up by about 25%. Anyway. She was feeling horny and wanted to know if I wanted to have some fun. Normally I'd jump at the chance - she's an attractive woman in her early 30s, very amusing and completely unshockable. She wants to watch me being fucked by my friendly policeman. She wants to try watersports. She has an insatiable ass. And so on.

I regretfully said that I was out of commission for a day or two. Maybe Thursday... I will report back. In the meantime, I have a drink with Headhunter tomorrow after work, then a date of some kind with Claire.

Headhunter

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I'd been out for drinks with a headhunter who I think fancies me (although as Claire points out, I think all women fancy me now). It was Wednesday last week, we met for a drink after work at five-ish, then we ended up drinking til about nine. I rarely drink so for me this was a prodigious feat of endurance. She told me about half-way through that it was her birthday, and I had a faint little alarm bell going off that she'd chosen to be with me on her birthday even though we've only met a couple of times.

Next day I sent her a chatty email, including my resume, and said "I've had to leave out some of my skills as they're unsuitable for a work email". I can't help myself with this stuff. At least I didn't say I could provide references...

Anyway, we've been exchanging emails today and she slipped in that she'd had breakfast with her boyfriend yesterday. This is great news! She's attached! And she's restless! I will, of course, update you on developments.

I responded by asking what her boyfriend was like, and saying that I too had been a bit circumspect about my private life. Interesting...

Drought, rough sex and the fairy-tale bedroom.

I broke my drought last night. Judith picked me up at 7, we drove to her place. Once we got there we chatted for a while, then started making out in her living-room. We were still pretty much dressed, and while I was sitting on the sofa she knelt down and got my cock out of my pants and started sucking it with gusto.

I'm still recovering from my sessions with Harriet, and one thing for sure about Harriet was that she liked rough sex, the rougher the better really. It's not something I'd ever been really keen on (I like being in charge, and I like giving the odd spanking but that's about it) but with Harriet I started really getting into it. She especially liked being fucked hard in the mouth... essentially, she liked having her head held still and then having my cock shoved in and out almost to the point she was gagging. Or alternatively, liked me grabbing her head and shoving it down on my cock, again and again and then holding her there. Same effect. I'd seen this in porn and I never liked it. But when I did it with her, I found out much to my surprise I loved it... who knew? And more to the point, what's happening to me?

Back to Judith: I had noticed with Judith that a couple of times when we've fucked, when she's been right on the cusp of coming and starting to get quite verbal she'd said she wanted it rough. I file this stuff away, of course. Two reasons, in this case 1) if she says she likes it rough and then I immediately start being rough it's not any fun, I might as well wash the floors and do the garden, and 2) until Harriet I didn't have a good idea of what rough was, or indeed, whether I liked it.

So last night as I was sitting on her couch, my pants down around my ankles, she kneeling between my knees sucking my cock I thought to myself something along the lines of:

• I like rough sex, apparently
• she has said on more than one occasion she likes it
  
• so do something about it, what have I got to lose? What do I want, a written invitation?

So I tentatively put one hand behind her head (and I know some women really hate this - I know I do) and started taking more of the initiative; instead of her bobbing up and down on my cock, I was thrusting a bit. She moaned in a way that sounded quite appreciative. So I did it more.. and more moaning. She has long dark straight hair, like Harriet, so I took hold of it quite firmly, my hand on the back of head, like a ponytail, and held her head like that as I started to fuck her mouth. She loved it. Sex never ceases to amaze me.

We played around some more, she came. Then the delivery guy arrived with our dinner, we got dressed and ate and talked a lot about relationships, relatives, kids, the works. Then I took her to her bedroom and you don't need to know much more about the rest of it, but I'll sketch some of the interesting bits (as opposed to the organ-grinding).

• Again, with Judith and me we tend to lose ourselves in what we're doing. I get very worked up and my self-censor breaks down, so I'm a bit more instinctive than I usually am. I can get surprisingly verbal, and I feel like I have licence to be quite controlling. She likes it, after all.
• She said, after a while, something like "I'll do anything.. anything you want", and luckily I had the presence of mind not to say something like "iron my shirts" or "do my taxes".
• She adores anal sex. This is all due to me, I remind myself.
  

Eventually, I came. I ration myself; I know that I really can't come more than once in a night, so that means that once I've come the show's all over. So I need to make sure that I don't come for at last a decent interval. In effect, I control when the thing finishes and I need to judge it. One of the lucky side-effects of being in my mid-40s is that it takes quite a bit for me to come so coming too soon isn't a problem (unless I fake it, or just want to finish).For example, I can very rarely come from having my cock sucked. In fact, you can suck my cock all night (see, there's a challenge!) and I won't come.

And if I've been playing for quite a while without coming I seem to get a bit numb. My cock's still hard, I'm horny as hell.. but I think it gets used to the idea of not coming, it seems to habituate. It's like a second brain sometimes, I really don't know how women manage without one.

But finally, I came. We collapsed in a heap, she as always agreeably sweaty. We kissed, congratulated ourselves on doing a good job.. and then I drifted off to sleep immediately. This happens to me with Judith but not with anyone else. I think because her bedroom is very quiet and white and she has a lovely big bed with lovely bedding on it and it's all a bit like being in a fairy-tale, especially when I think about my own bachelor pad with the noises outside: cop cars driving around, drunks fighting the park, british tourists singing Oasis songs and then vomiting. Or maybe the drunks and the british backpackers are the same people, now I think about it.

Update

Two and a half weeks without sex, which is very unusual for me. During the week I had a few close calls... David and the horny housewife, which fell through. Friendly Policeman and I were going to have some fun with an acquaintance of his on Thursday, but she ended up cancelling. Then I had the brilliant idea of getting me, Joan and Friendly Policeman together but that didn't work out. The closest I got to actual sex was I went out on Wednesday night with a head-hunter who I know fancies me. I'm sure she'd be happy to have me plunge the tusk into her at some point, but I really want her to find me a job first.

Last night I was out with Claire (who I have fallen for all over again, and this time it's bitten her too.. what to do?) but we went our separate ways at the end of a delightful evening.

Tonight I'm seeing Judith, who I haven't seen in a while. We were chatting during the week and I half-jokingly suggested I should bring a blindfold. She responded to this very enthusiastically, so I'm bring all my mountaineering equipment (as Sam used to call it) with me in case. As I was going through my smut bag - hidden deep in my closet - I stumbled upon something unfamiliar, and remembered that I have to give Harriet back her buttplug. Next time I get my haircut.

All in all, it promises to be a busy week. I will, of course, keep you updated. You can expect a bit of a summary of who did what to whom, a lot of soul-searching about Claire, some musing about rough sex and Harriet. And I may end up having sex with a married man, and with a woman who's very particular about words and knew exactly what 'thredony' meant when I ran it by her.

'resting'

Yes, it's been almost two weeks since I got up to anything. It's not like I've been doing stuff behind your back. I even turned down a couple of opportunities last week (see Joan; dinner).

But I think normal serice will be resumed this week, maybe even as early as this afternoon. I will, of course, keep you updated.

Claire's message

I meant to tell you, I got this text message from Claire a day or two after we made The Beast with Two Backs:

"Ok, now I got a flashback to Sunday morning. I always love getting fucked like that. X"

You may recall that I was supposed to catch up with Joan for a little adventure we had planned, where she was going to be fisted and then thoroughly fucked by me and a friend - she's never met him, but I've told her about him and she calls him my 'fisting acquaintance'. She wanted to be blindfolded and tied up for this but I talked her out of it. I got my friend (let's call him Chris) lined up for it and we were going to do it tonight.

But this morning I realised I just wasn't in the mood. Why? Various things. For a start, my job's a bit of a nightmare at the moment and I'm unusually stressed. Also, my situation with Claire has got me worried - why can't I work out what I want? And what about Prudence? (I'm seeing them both tomorrow night, by the way. Separately. No hanky-panky involoved.)

So I called Joan and she was fine with it. I explained that rather than a night of experimental sex and a sleepover, what I really wanted was dinner and a convival chat - I need company, fully-clothed company at that. Joan and I often have dinner as a prelude to sex, and she's an amusing and engaging dining companion (in a way that Harriet wouldn't be; she's too earnest).

So that's exactly what we did. We talked mostly business. We laughed a lot. It was very good fun. I was home by 830pm. Sweet!

Harriet quits.

I saw Harriet on Friday, but in a different context. Instead of being at her apartment with my cock in her ass, I was at her work. She cuts hair, as it turns out. She owns a small but very up-market hair salon in an affluent and hip inner-city suburb, and over the last few weeks as we've been playing we've talked a bit about her business and her clientele.

The last couple of times we've played, she's suggested she should cut my hair. I thought about it and decided why the hell not? She's clearly competent. She has a significant number of male clients. I know her.

So Friday afternoon I showed up at her salon. She cut my hair, we chatted. She told me she had dated a guy a couple of times and it was going well, so she wanted to stop playing with me. Now, the thing about this other guy may or may not be true, but it doesn't matter much. She might just be bored, or confused about what she wants. But she at least had the good grace to do it properly. From my perspective, given the amount of uncertainly about she wanted (see the last half-dozen posts about Harriet) I never expected that it'd last this long. And it was incredibly good fun.

She said she's learnt a lot about herself from playing with me, and that I'd really opened her up sexually (or words to that effect - that's quite a confronting image, now I think about it). Funnily enough I feel like I learnt a lot too.

The cut looked good - very good. She said it was on the house and that we should go out for a drink sometime. I can't tell whether she means it, but it would be fun. I wished her all the best with this new-guy-who-may-or-may-not-exist and went back to work.

Two of the women I work with noticed my haircut and said it looked good. Then I went out Friday night and kept getting hit on by women. The haircut works! I'm smokin' hot! I messaged Harriet and told her. I'm so going back for another one.

Sugasm 152. Please enjoy.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #153? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Sugarbutch Star: Maze - The Girl in the Red Dress
“She’s the kind of girl who brings out the worst in me.”

treat or … fuck
“He looked like I had just given him a car for Christmas and he gently took my hand and led me upstairs. ”

A Life Exposed and Amplified
“We were breaking the rules and being dirty.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice
I told him I loved him. He gave me a pen.

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Break On Through
Eiffel Tower
Fast Jenny
A Few Orgasms Before Bed
Geisha
Goodbye, my Love
lustlustlust
Mexican Girlfriend
Mixing business and pleasure
Mistaken Identity
Unblemished

Sex Advice
How to Have Anal Sex with a Big Penis
Is Fantasizing Wrong?
Is Sex Without Oral a Dealbreaker? You Decide.
Lasting Longer in Bed

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Georgia Jones wants to go for a ride
HNT. Forest Nymph
HNT! (One more cherry, popped.)
Kamila - The Restoration
More from the knee socks series
PSA: Breast Cancer Awareness
Seductor

Sex Work
Dating Civilians 101

Sex News, Reviews, & Interviews
A New Twist on an Anal Sex Toy
On Tuesday, Vote for Equality

BDSM & Fetish
-3 Days
Bad Girl
The big dodge
Blind date: Impressions of a Dom
Dirty Boy
egg scissors
Do you want to cum? How bad?
Jake gets Punished in Spanking Movie
Kneeling In Style
Long Night in Thee Cow Shed
Marked: An Open Letter
Mistress by Proxy, part 2 : the slut
The New Bath Brush
Pimping him out
Pondering Piercings
Quickie

Sex Humour
Friday Poem: Achy Achy Cunt

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
HNT-Time
Hubby’s Halloween Hit. Confession #167
The Space Between
Two women, two stories

Busy man.

I went to see Harriet again last night, and I managed the whole thing much better. I arrived at her place, bustled in and immediately set her to work. I'd had a fairly stressful day, and I was still a bit annoyed at the way she's no needy, and so I was quite a bit more bossy and forceful than I usually am and of course she loved it.

I'm really a fairly gentle and easy-going person but I do like once in a while having the chance to release my inner bastard. I had sent her a text mid-afternoon describing a particular thing I wanted to do to her and I said "If you seem reluctant I'm just going to MAKE you do it", but then of course I couldn't help sending a follow-up text, in parentheses, saying "(of course if there's something you really don't want to do, just so say in a calm voice)". Which pretty much sums up my approach to this stuff.

What I had proposed to her (not for the first time) was that I wanted her to piss for me while I watched. She claimed she was shy, but I told her that just made it more fun. Then I had a brainwave: I texted her "If you don't piss for me, I'm going to stick my cock in your mouth and piss in there. That should give you an incentive". Which she liked.

Then, bizarrely enough, after we'd finished with the sex and we were lying on the bed together she proposed that I should stay the night. Huh? You might remember from my last installment in the Harriet saga that she didn't want us to talk, she just wanted to be fucked hard. I pointed out to her how annoyingly inconsistent this was, and she thought for a moment and said that because I'd already fucked her hard and been mean and bossy we could afford to have some conversation afterwards. I didn't stay the night for various practical reasons.

Then, the next morning I was pleasantly surprised not to get a text from her saying that she felt strange, or unsettled or somehow weirded out. Instead I got one saying thankyou and that she was horny again. So I'm doing something right.

And then at lunchtime today, as I was buying my sandwich, I got a call from David. He was in a hotel room near my work with a woman he'd found on some website somewhere, an archetypal horny housewife, to whom he'd suggested that maybe she needed two cocks rather than one. Ten minutes later I was there before she could even think about changing her mind. She was great fun. A little shy, she'd never done anything like that before, which I thought was quite charming and I told her so. I couldn't help noticing that David has a very nice cock and I had to remind myself that - at least according to Cathy - he's quite homophobic. And so I had to also remind myself to resist the urge to grab it.

Joan has a plan.

Joan just sent me an email. It's Saturday night, she's at home and clearly her mind's racing...

I've been having some very naughty thoughts..clearly its been tooo long

The players:
you, me, your 'fisting' acquaintance

The location:
your place (it could be mine as well..)

The scene:
i arrive at yours - we don't say much - we go straight to your bed.. you undress me - tie me up and blind fold me. You start feeling my body and teasing me. I hear the front door close and footsteps come towards the room. Another pair of hands is moving across my body. I shudder with excitement as my body tries to move under the restraints. Fingers, Fisting and Fucking... and filming. And I never see the acquaintances face (well until we watch the video!).

The other great thing is that she too has some 7D dried mango for me. I must be doing something right....

Sarah - a nice contrast.

In the midst of all this (almost falling in love with Claire, being whipsawed by mad, needy Harriet) I had some very pleasant and uncomplicated sex with Sarah. As promised, she gave me some 7D dried mango - no, not a euphemism - and then she went back to her husband. She sent me a charming thankyou note too. See, it's not that hard!

Harriet really is as mad as a cut snake.

A (long) postscript to my last visit with Harriet. She'd been getting a bit antsy about how superficial our 'relationship' was, which was a little annoying because the whole premise of the thing was that it was just going to be about sex. When we'd first met for a drink she'd said "let's just be sex-friends", which I thought sounded perfect. But now, she said she wanted more of a connection, she wanted me to hang around longer we were done fucking. And so on....

I figured I'd play along with it, for a couple of reasons:

• I quite like her, even though she's a bit too earnest
• she's hot
• there's a few things we haven't done yet (friendly policeman, watersports, just to name two)
  

I run this though my usual "what's in it for me?" analysis and I come up with a net positive, and so I keep on. I know this thing won't last all that long (she's a bit all over the place, and also I have a very short attention span) but it's fun while it lasts.

So when I went to her place on Wednesday night, as well as the usual bossiness and rough sex (and she likes rough sex more than I do, I'm coming to realise) we talked quite a lot. If connection's the price I have to pay, I thought, I'm happy to pay it. Besides, I quite like talking and I do like her.

Wednesday night, after I'd left she sent me a text:

You have to fuck me again.. soon. I'm so hungry still. I did enjoy our conversation tonight. That was nice, I like that. Sexy man, I look forward to more conversation. And.. sucking on your cock, that was amazing.

As you can imagine, I thought that was pretty good. Then, the next morning, I get this:

Yes, last night's conversation and not much sex was nice, but you can't do that again to me. I didn't feel good when you left. And I do hate to say this because I really liked talking to you, but I need to keep it sexual because otherwise i'll start to like you more... and for me to keep fucking you casually i can't do that. Sorry to get all heavy but i had bad dreams about it.

Well. Make up your fucking mind. If anyone's interested, one of the many differences between having sex with men vs sex with women is that men, by and large, aren't completely loopy about stuff like this.

Anyway, I'm going to tie her up and fuck her on Monday. And I'm not going to talk. At all.

'Big Daddy' <--- me!

I was at Harriet's tonight. We started the evening with me coming in through the balcony door - for some reason she always likes me to come in the wrong way, and please don't turn this into a grindingly obvious metaphor - and then sitting down, beer in hand so I could watch the US election coverage on tv while she sucked my cock. Then it all went downhill from there.

The highlight was when she told me that she's told her gay friends and clients all about me, and that I'm called 'Big Daddy'.

I knew this would happen.

I can't stop thinking about Claire. I'll probably see her this afternoon again (we each have social engagements, at places that are quite close to each other). All yesterday I was on a giddy high, a little voice in the back of my head telling me "dude, you fucked Claire!".

Apart from you readers - you faceless swill - I've only told my ex-boyfriend Sam. He was very pleased for me. He'd seen a photo of her in the newspaper once and had said that she was much too good for me. And I told my personal trainer, but I tell him everything.

Two women, two stories.

I love women in their 40s. For a start, they're my contemporaries so I find them easier to talk to, but also, they're grown-ups. They're not looking for a husband (they had one and he was a dud, or they've given up on the idea), they're not looking for someone to father their children, they're not looking for a meal ticket. Women in their 20s, especially, seem to think of their sexuality as a commodity that they need to extract some value for, they have a transactional approach to sex. This changes in mid30s, and by about 40 women have become more like men. Girls just wanna have fun. And yes, I know this is just a string of generalisations, and that generalisations are always wrong. Especially that one.

This last week two women friends told me stories that surprised me, and I think also surprised them a bit too. They both said that these were things they wouldn't have dreamed of doing a couple of years ago. I also love that they tell me this sort of stuff.

First, Lila. She's prone to occasional bouts of aching horniness. During one of these she was online on a dating site and got chatting with a 28yo guy, he worked in IT and was having a slow day. She was at home, working. They chatted a bit. Something about his profile made her wonder, so she asked if he was fat. "Not really", he said, which is hardly encouraging.

He said he was just starting his lunch break so she invited him over. When she opened the door she very nearly shut it again in his face. He was chubby, had a spotty face and was ugly. She was upset - more with herself than with him. But she brought him in and decided to make the most of it. She was, after all, horny as hell. As she closed the door behind him she told him that the deal was that he had to do exactly what she said. No more and no less. That was the only way she could contemplate doing anything with him. He agreed.

So for the next half hour or so, she told him exactly what to do to make her happy, and he did it. (She didn't give me details, anyway they're irrelevant.) Then he left. I told her that for this particular fat pimply ugly IT guy what had happened was probably the sexual highlight of his life. And not just his life so far.. I mean his entire life. And that's hot.

And then Carrie. She was grocery shopping after the school run, about 10 in the morning when she was approached by a man. He was, she told me, reasonably handsome and vaguely familiar (she worked out later that he's a famous sportsman) and he asked her point-blank whether she would fuck him. Without thinking about it too much she said yes, and then he suggested that they go to a nearby park and fuck - there's a wooded area, not too many joggers and dogwalkers. She agreed. She put her grocery shopping in the car then followed him to the park. They fucked. She said he like an animal, quite predatory, and he was someone who was clearly used to getting his own way and that the whole thing was incredibly hot.

What she liked about it, she said, was that she went from respectable ex-wife and mom to being fucked in a park by a strange man within about 10 minutes flat. And she felt better for it.

Harriet calms down.

I'm seeing Harriet again on Wednesday. She sent me a text yesterday reminding me how I get into her apartment and saying "..I want you to come in and don't say anything and just feed me your cock".

Someone I actually like.

Something rather unusual has happened; I had sex with someone I really like. Shall I elaborate?

I met Claire over a year ago at a party. We were introduced, and even before we started talking I knew that something strange had come over me. I'd never met anyone before who had this effect on me, I was captivated. She's mid40s, very unusual features, elegant, a permanent curious half-smile in her eyes. We talked, and got on incredibly well - we had had some shared history, as it happens. We must have spoken for about 5 minutes, but I felt incredibly light-headed afterwards. I did have the presence of mind to get her number.

In the 5 minutes we chatted I had told her that I was in a relationship. A long-distance one, and it was with a man. (More about this later. His name for these purposes is Sam.) She took this on board without giving much away, and I think I was put in the 'sassy gay friend' compartment.

For about a month I was like a love-sick teen. If I was going to call her I'd have to summon up all my reserves of courage; if she called me I'd be hysterically happy. I'd walk past her shop (she owns a business) and would feel my pulse race. But the really strange thing was I never really thought about her in very sexual terms. I wanted to experience waking up next to her, and not neccessarily the whole having-sex thing. She told me that when she has guys over and they end up fucking, she always kicks them out; she doesn't like anyone sleeping with her. This made it worse.

We kept in touch. I'd see her from time to time, we'd go out for dinner or drinks. My thing with Sam ended. I knew that whatever it was I had with Claire, I didn't want it to become a relationship. Why? Much as I adored(d) her, I also realised pretty quickly that being in a relationship with her would be bad for me - she's surprisingly dogmatic and judgmental, and I'd had enough of that. I'm quite wishy-washy on a lot of things, and I'm perversely attracted to people who seem really strong and grounded. But it ends in tears.

The highlight of this crush period (and quite possibly of my life so far) was about a year ago she took me shopping. We went to a big department store, she scoured the menswear floor and we had an armful of clothes each. She marched off to the fitting rooms. The attendant told her there was a maximum of 4 garments, and you couldn't have two people in the room at a time but she fobbed him off. We got into the changing room and she said to me "I hope you're not shy". To this day I don't know if she had any idea how I felt about her (I play my cards very close to my chest) but the next half-hour was exquistely surreal; it felt like time had slowed down. I stripped down to my underwear (grateful that I was wearing something decent that day. CK ribbed hip briefs. No holes, no saggy band) and tried on pants, shirts, t-shits, jackets.

I confided in my friend Prudence, another charming woman I met when I was going out with Sam. She told me that Claire really liked me, but also wanted to control me. Which I thought was a pretty good read except for the bit about really liking me. Then about six months ago I started falling for Prudence instead. That's another story.

Over time my crush on Claire subsided as I'd hoped it would. We'd go out, we'd banter and have fun. I suspect I was better company; I was no longer like a deer in the headlights. I liked the way it had settled down. I met some of her friends, they all liked flirting with me. Once or twice I started to wonder whether she was starting to like me.

We had dinner last night, then we were going to go to the movies. She suggested, as we were finishing dinner, that we go to her place instead to watch a DVD. Good idea, I thought. The movie we were going to see sounded like it sucked anyways. So we went to her place, watched "Gladiator", her favorite movie. We sat on the couch together, barely touching. We drank some wine. She suggested I stay in the spare room instead of getting a cab home at midnight. Good idea, I thought. I also quite liked the idea of being in her space, the place she lives in. There's something so intimate about that.

I was starting to think to myself "is this normal?" Then, after the movie finished, we looked at each other, and she said "what do you want to do?". I hesitated for what felt like about half an hour and then said to her that what I really wanted was for us to sleep together but not have sex. All I could think about was touching her, holding her. Plus, I could tell that I just wasn't all that horny. Not just for her, I mean generally. I've been wallowing in sex for a while and I'm a little sick of it; I'd even told her that over dinner. Amazingly enough.

Her idea was the exact opposite. Sex, but not sleeping together. I kissed her full on the lips, for the first time ever. It was pretty good. We went upstairs.. I undressed her as I kissed her and she was just as gorgeous as I'd imagined. Then I got undressed and... my cock wasn't working. Arghh! I suspected that was going to happen. I had jerked off that afternoon, I was a little confused about the situation, also very anxious... this doesn't happen very often, but it does happen. But with Claire? She's naked, she's horny as hell... and my cock's gone on vacation?

Of course the worst thing you can do when this happens is to let it get to you. It's that cycle of doubt. And for about half an hour I was flaccid. I kept myself busy playing with her, and eventually I was enough in-the-moment to make it all work. Experience has taught me that if I'm in that situation the best thing I can do is to focus on getting the other person worked up, and that's often enough to make me forget my anxiety.

Afterwards we slept. She said that I could stay in her bed (hooray!) but it turns out she snores (boo!). We woke up in the morning and my cock had been restored to normal service, so we had a very agreeable morning fuck.

All day, I've had a little voice in the back of my mind saying "dude! you fucked Claire".

So what next? Well, she's coming to pick me up in about an hour, we're going to a party one of her friends is having. She said that our having had sex doesn't mean anything, and I'd really love to believe that.

You're what?

My friend Cindy sent me a text on Wednesday saying that she was thinking of me and that she was 'horney'. What? She'd texted that word to me once before but I'd written it off as a careless typo, but twice..? I can't possibly plunge the tusk with someone who can't spell, especially that word.

And as if that wasn't enough we'd had dinner a couple of hours earlier, and she'd surprised me. I was telling her a not-especially-hilarious anecdote about an acquaintance of mine who'd gone to live in Mumbai and was running a factory that made pies (you had to be there. Dinner, not Mumbai) and she said "where's Mumbai?"

Harriet, the mirror and some grief about something.

On Thursday night I got this text message from Harriet:

I've just got home and i'm going to take my pants off and spread my legs in front of the mirror and open my cunt and play with myself thinking about sucking your handsome cock.
With the way i feel i would really like you here to fuck me and take control. A bit of discipline would make me feel better.

Now, I don't need to tell you that I love getting something like this. I was just leaving my apartment when I got it, on my way out for dinner with an old friend. He's a former colleague of mine, one of the very few people I've ever met in my line of work who I actually like spending time with. We hadn't spoken for a couple of years then he rang me a couple of months ago, he'd just gotten out of rehab (cocaine and heroin; i said i was impressed) and I was the first person he called. Which I rather liked. We catch up every couple of weeks.

I went over to his place, he showed me his art collection, then he cooked dinner. He's an exquisite cook (and no, he's not gay). He made, among other things, a plain green salad that was, I told him later, the finest salad I'd ever eaten. We had a very agreeable conversation and it was all very pleasant, but after I'd left I felt vaguely unsettled, as I usually do after seeing him.

Next morning I get a text from Harriet.

My text to you last night wasn't an invitation for you to come around, I was just saying how i felt. Your ignoring it made me feel foolish, It hurt. Please don't take this the wrong way, i understand our agreement but sometimes i struggle with how shallow this kind of sex is. i love it and i need it and i'm very appreciative of you.. its just hard sometimes. i'm a woman I do want to fuck you next week, very much. I just need a couple of days to get back to you.

For a start, that's WAY too long for a text message.

Oona

I'll write about Oona properly when I have the time, but she and I had a nice sexual thing going about a year ago, for 6 months or so. I found her quite annoying though, so I stopped it. We still chat once in a while, and I took her out for dinner a couple of weeks ago just to show what a decent guy I am (as hard as that is to imagine). We exchange emails occasionally, usually about the appalling standards of spelling and grammar in the messages we each get on various sites - she recently took me to task, asking me 'How can you consider fucking someone who writes "would not of"?', which is a pretty reasonable question.

Lunch.

I had a very agreeable lunch on Friday with a blogger from London who I've been corresponding with for a few weeks. Mrs Robinson. She's quite charming.

Friendly Policeman

You may recall that I had a plan for tomorrow that involves me, Harriet and a friendly policeman. The plan went like this. I'd be at Harriet's. She and I would get a bit worked up, then she was going to put some sort of scarf or something over her head, my friend the cop would arrive and fuck her, then he would leave without either of them seeing the other's face. She has vivid fantasies about this sort of thing, and I do love facilitating.

Me: he's very good at fucking
Her: how do you know?
Me: ....well..... he's fucked me a couple times

I live for this sort of dialogue. Anyway, Harriet's decided she's not quite ready to do this after all, which is fine. She said "I've decided that I don't have the strength this week to push my boundaries so far". (My italics). I said that was fine - which it is. Then she tried to explain how on the one hand she has these fantasies about being treated as a slut ("..the feeling of being used is very sexy to me..") but for that to work she also needs ".. a balance of sex where I feel adored and desired..". Then, to clarify, she adds "Please don't confuse this with wanting love or a relationship..". And you know what? I sort of do understand.

So I'm going over there on Thursday anyway. I'll be nice. After our play on Sunday we sat around for a while talking and she said she was meeting a few friends later that afternoon at a bar and would I like to come along, which I was very agreeably surprised at (I said no, I had other things on). When we first met she said she wanted someone just to have adventurous sex with, not to pal around with, and she specifically said that what this didn't include would be meeting each others' friends. So I was very chuffed to be invited.

More Mango...

Bizarrely enough, I got a text message today from Joan. She's in Singapore on business and remembered that I like 7D dried mango (which means, I can only assume, that I must be in the habit of sharing my views on dried mango with all my sexual partners). She's going to bring some back. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I had sourced some domestically. Besides, it'll come in handy around xmas, my kids love it.

On other matters. Harriet. Phwoaarrr! I have a plan for Thursday that involves Harriet, me and a friendly policeman. She loves the idea.

Mango

I got a delightful text yesterday from Sarah. She was in a shop in one of the far-flung suburbs of the city we live in and she'd spotted a giant pile of packets of 7D Dried Mango.

Huh? Well, with me and Sarah, when we're not having sex we're talking about food, and one day we got on to the topic of dried mango and I was whingeing about how the 7-11 at Changi airport - which used to sell 7D - has now switched to another, lesser brand, and about how Philippine dried mango is superior in every respect to Thai dried mango, and it's a miracle really that she doesn't sometimes just tell me to shut the fuck up.

So she bought me 6 packets for $20 ($3.30 each, plus an extra 20c for warehousing, funding, cost of credit, admin etc.). I have to fuck her to get the mangoes.

Harriet

I'm seeing Harriet at lunchtime today. We had arranged to play again on Thursday but she can't wait, so I explained to her that I really couldn't do anything earlier as I had some minor surgery last week (all going fine, thanks for asking) but I don't have my bandages off or my stitches out til Thursday. But then I had an idea...

So I'm going over at lunchtime. I'll remain clothed. I'll get her to do things to herself while I watch. I'm so lazy.

I'm "thoughtful AND nasty"!

In all these posts about Cathy, David, Miss X (even I get confused) I left a little teaser: "In the meantime, I got an extraordinary email from Harriet. I called her, we're meeting on Tuesday." Harriet?

I met her for a drink last week. She's mid30s, very attractive. Dark hair , olive skin, great body. I'd messaged her on some BDSM site she was on, and within a couple of days we were there in a bar, chatting. She drank beer, which I always really like in a woman.

She's in the fashion industry. She was married for a year, but now divorced. Her friends are all gay men. She hadn't had sex for a year, she said. Lately, she'd been watching lots of porn (she owns her own business and can do what she likes at work), especially porn where a woman's being ordered around by a man, or men.

She'd always known she liked this sort of thing, but it'd never really worked within the context of any of her relationships. One of her gay friends told her she needed to find someone just for that, so she went online, found the BDSM site I'm on.. and she says that mine was the first profile she saw and that she really liked it and was glad that I messaged her. Might be true... As I put her into a cab to go home she said "let's just be sex friends". Yes, let's!

Then she emailed me some descriptions of what she liked, and what she wanted to try. And also, what she didn't want to try. I love people who know what they want, and I even more love people who know what they don't want. (As an aside, instead of asking people what sort of music they like, try asking them what they don't like. Much more interesting answers, and more heartfelt.)

I went over to her place tonight. I had given her instructions. She had left her door unlocked, and was standing in the living-room with her back to the door. Fully-dressed, no shoes. Her toys and various other bits and pieces were laid out on the coffee table. I came in, closed the door, came up behind her and put on the blindfold. For the first little while I didn't say anything much, just the occasional intruction.

After a while we stopped, by then I'd taken off the blindfold. I told her there was a paper bag on the floor with two bottles of beer in it. She knew what to do.. she got the beers out (same brand she'd ordered when we met, an unusual choice) and handed one to me, and said it was very thoughtful of me. I agreed, and pointed out to her that being handed a beer by a kneeling woman who's naked except for a dog collar is right on so many levels. (It was her dog collar - she has a thing for it, as it turns out.)

We fucked some more, then we lay there for a bit, then I went home. Very pleased with myself. She sent me a text:

You fucking me was delightful, thoughtful and nasty. You're sexy. Finally a real man fucked me. I will be wanting more.

You know this sort of praise makes me even more insufferable.

Sarah and Dick

I got a message from Sarah the other day asking if we could catch up this week one lunchtime. I worked out that today, Monday, was the best day.

(A quick digression: Sarah's a writer, and in her new book there's a fictionalised version of me, he's called Richard. You know all this already, of course, and that Sarah's happily married. I discovered today that the fictionalised version of her is 'Sarah', which is, of course, not her real name. How about that....we picked the same name.)

Back to our story... I left work just before lunch, came home and had a lovely 20-minute lie-down before Sarah arrived. I hadn't come since Thursday (it's unusual for me to go this long, and it wasn't really deliberate) and while I was having my lie-down it occurred to me that I was just about the horniest I'd been since I was about 20. I really miss that; maybe I've stumbled onto something....?

When Sarah arrived I decided to let my cock do the thinking, so within about a minute of her walking in the door I had her panties off, her skirt up around her waist, she was bent over holding onto the back of a chair and I was grabbing her by the hips and fucking her as though my life depended on it. She was, she said later, very agreeably surprised by my determination. As was I.

What happened with Cathy and Miss X and David?

I'm sure you've been having trouble sleeping, you've been up wondering how it all went. I'll tell you!

Thursday morning I chatted briefly with David, who I still hadn't met but I'd seen a photo of him and I thought he looked a little bit like the psychotic murderer in Wolf Creek, but slightly more avuncular and a little less, er, murderous. He said he'd left a message with Miss X and would call me as soon as he knew anything.

Lunchtime.. still no call. Then I got a message from Cathy - she was coming back earlier than expected. So I rang David, who told me that Miss X wasn't able to make it (which he should have called me to tell me - I do hate having to chase people up). I then proposed we go back to the original plan with Cathy. He agreed.

Cathy picked me up at my place about 7. She was nervous. We chatted as she drove into town. We get on very well; we make each other laugh. We arrived at David's hotel, parked, then went up to the bar on the executive floor. David arrived. He seemed ok. 50ish, grey hair, solidly built, very confident, easy to talk to. We sat in the bar for a while chatting, and we got chatting to a young American honeymoon couple at the table next to us. Then David and Cathy whispered to each other and David surreptitiously handed me a drink coaster and a hotel room key. On the drink coaster was written "2314.. Come up in 10 mins" . I chatted a bit more with the American couple (and discovered that he and I had briefly worked for the same company in New York in the late 90s.. small world) then made my way down to 2314.

When I walked in, David was sitting on the edge of the bed, still with his shirt on and Cathy was naked, sucking his cock. So that's quite a nice little ice-breaker. As usual, I won't give you the blow-by-blow, just the highlights:

• he really liked watching me fuck her. You may remember from a previous post that Cathy and I have some strange chemistry, so when I fuck her she comes a lot. I, in turn, get inspired. So as a performance it's probably pretty good.
• he's very verbal, and liked calling her a slut and a cunt and whatnot. She appeared to like it. I can't call her names like that; I like her too much.
• She likes being spanked. Who knew?
  
• he told her at one point that she was going to have to try anal sex (I of course put him up to this). So while he kept her busy with a cock in her mouth I spent quite a bit of time getting my cock in her ass. It took quite a bit of doing, and for a horrible moment I thought maybe it wasn't going to work at all, but finally we got it in. And I have to say, she did very well. I, of course, have been fucked quite a few times and while I love it, I usually can't take it for very long. My boredom threshold gave way before her comfort level, which is pretty good. Especially for a first-timer
• he told her that at one point we'd take her to the bathroom and pee on her, which she seemed keen on. I found myself feeling a little uncomfortable with this. Don't get me wrong, I love watersports (probably my favorite perversion!) but I could tell I felt a little strange about doing it with Cathy, and in that way. We didn't do it.
  

I came eventually, and then left. They apparently kept fucking for a while, and then she stayed overnight. She called me the next morning (by which time I was in a different city, of course) and told me that she'd loved it and wanted to do it again. She also said that while she really enjoyed David's sheer bossiness, I was better at fucking. You know I love hearing this.

She said that after I'd gone David had said to her that he could tell that while she and I were good friends, she was much more sexually attracted to him. He needs to think this, I'm not sure why.

Cathy and David and Miss X and Me.

It's never easy, is it? Trying to coordinate 3 busy people. Cathy's almost certainly going to be out of town so yesterday I called David (who I still haven't met, by the way) and suggested that he try to get Miss X to entertain us tomorrow night. She's keen on the idea, but won't know for sure til tomorrow.

Cathy told me that David had asked her quite a lot about me - he'd asked, among other things, how tall I was and what my body was like. She said I was almost 6 feet tall and had a hot body. You can guess how much I liked hearing this.

In some ways I'll be more comfortable with Miss X than with Cathy. Cathy's a good friend now, and if we do do this thing where she's bossed around by two men (me being one of them) I might find it hard to, er, objectify her. Whereas Miss X is someone I've never met, there's much less risk of my inner niceness ruining the mood.

In the meantime, I got an extraordinary email from Harriet. I called her, we're meeting on Tuesday.

Text

I got a text today which said, in part:

I'll fill you in on what I like and give you a bit of an outline as to how very dirty i am. I was wanting to be fucked some time over the weekend but i understand if thats not possible

The writer - let's call her Harriet - is an extremely attractive woman in her mid30s who I had a drink with last night.

Cathy. Update.

Let's call him David, the guy that Cathy found. To refresh your memory, Cathy and I had had quite a bit of very agreeable very vanilla sex earlier this year. Then - after I stopped - she decided she wanted to try some sub/dom stuff. After a couple of false starts and the usual blind alleys she's met this guy David. He's about 50, sensible and bossy.

He told her that he wants to see her being fucked by another guy. Which is where I come in, of course. This is scheduled for Thursday. I feel I owe you a progress report.

I spoke to David on the phone again a couple of days ago. His idea was that we get another woman involved as well. He described her to me and she does, indeed, sound fun. I said he should talk to Cathy to see whether she was up for it. And that I was happy either way: Me, David and Cathy, or me, David, Cathy and Miss X.

Then I immediately called Cathy, I wanted to speak to her before David put her on the spot. From my perspective, I'd much rather just the three of us. Why? Well, I really do love that two-men-one-woman dynamic, especially with this added twist that David's just going to be directing traffic. I like that whole idea of the woman being the center of attention, and there's something else too. It's something to do with the way that men are cruder than women, so that in MMF situation because of the 2-vs-1 outnumbering it's like the woman's somehow found herself in a male-themed space. There's not going to be scented candles or soft music. She's unmistakeably there to be fucked, you can feel it in the air.

And if we had this Miss X along I think it stops that from happening. Also, as I said to Cathy, if I were her I'd want to be the center of attention, being simultaneously put on a pedestal and objectified. If Miss X is there she'd miss that. It would all become a bit more genteel.

So what I said to Cathy was that while I was happy to do either, my preference was the 2-on-1. She agreed (and I have to point out that she's a very tough cookie and it's not like I was trying to convince her, I just wanted to let her know where I stood. David, of course, told her that I was very keen on having Miss X along. Which I thought he would do.) She told this to David.

I've spoken to Cathy a couple of times since then. She's very excited. She did tell me that one of the things that got her interesting in dom/sub stuff was her experience with me. How's that? It was extremely vanilla, wasn't it? Not quite. She said that from her perspective it seemed like I was firmly in charge and she found she loved it. So there.. I can add her to my list of nice women whom I've corrupted.

Dr Love.

For reasons I can't fathom at all, women often ask me for dating and relationship advice. Me, of all people! It beggars belief.

One woman I've known for about 6 months, and as long as I've known her she's had a crush on a guy she met in an 'adult' chatroom. They talk sometimes on the phone, but mostly they're in this chatroom. He flirts with her a little, he flirts with some of the other women. She thinks they have a special bond, they're soulmates. He's a very handsome man in his mid-30s, she's early 40s and not exactly an oil painting (as we say here).

They've never met, even though he lives maybe 5 miles from her. They've arranged to meet a couple of times but he backs out just at the last minute. He tells her about the women from the site that he fucks. She still thinks they're soulmates.

I've been listening to this for six months. He says this, he says that. They have a special bond.... I point out to her that it's not much of a special bond if he's never taken the trouble to meet her for at least a drink. I could understand if he took advantage of her incredible naivite and fucked her senseless then avoided her, but he hasn't even bothered doing that.

I try to tell her that while this thing means a lot to her it clearly means nothing to him but she won't hear of it. In the meantime she hasn't had sex in about three years. I'm not going to fuck her but I'm sure she could find someone decent who would.

Toaster (nothing about sex in this post.. calm down!)

I'm staying in my ex-wife's house this week and I'm going to have a whinge about the toaster. Yes, that's what I'm reduced to. I know you're doing that rolling-your-eyes thing but bear with me.

We got this toaster as a wedding present (I think) which is fine. You'll notice it's quite wide (or maybe long, depending on how you look at it). It's quite a lot wider than, say, a slice of bread. So it looks as though it was designed to toast two slices of bread at once. NO! It's not quite wide enough. If you put two normal-sized slices of bread in it they jam together in the middle, and when you push the lever thingy to make then go down they get all jammed together in a very disagreeable way.

When I use it, I try to imagine what the process was like for designing it. Did they deliberately create a toaster that was designed to toast something that's wide, but not quite as wide as two slices of bread placed next to each other? Why? What would that thing be? And why not give it, say, an extra inch of width while they were at it? In my mind's eye I see a meeting at the toaster company, the young edgy guys from design are showing off this new model that's designed to toast wider bread, and some been-around-the-traps executive (in my revisionist toaster fantasy it's ME) waves his hands to shut them up and tells them to widen it just a little bit more. They're struck dumb, his wisdom is so obvious, so humbling.

Or maybe it wasn't like that at all. More likely it was just all a bit haphazard, the toaster's an evolutionary backwater.

Whenever I use it I remember a phrase I once read in a novel (I googled it, no joy.. any ideas? Kingsley Amis?). The narrator works in a very undistinguished building, which is described as looking as though it was designed by 'an architect who worked with the radio on'.

On the other hand the toaster's worked fine for 14 years, which is longer than the marriage.

Airport transfer

I was chatting with Judith last night on msn and she's having a severe attack of horniness. We'd arranged to hook up on Wednesday next week but that doesn't work for her for two reasons 1) her plans for next week have changed and she's going to be out of town then, and 2) she really can't wait.

So she's going to pick me up at the airport this Sunday evening when I fly home and she's going to take me back to her place. In exhange for getting a lift home I have to fuck her senseless. Seems like a pretty good trade...

Cathy comes out

You may recall in my last installment I'd told you about 'Cathy', and how we'd had a thing for a few months that was, for me at least, a real eye-opener. A revelation. We had extremely vanilla sex. Just plain face-to-face missionary position fucking. Nothing more exotic. And certainly none of the more unusual practices I like to introduce. But it was sensational. Then, I got a little bored. We remain friends, we catch up for coffee every couple of weeks, it's nice. I haven't fucked her since May, I think.

The relentlessly vanilla nature of it was mostly my doing - I liked the vanilla stuff so much with Cathy that I just decided to stick with it. She did ask me a couple of times what else I liked, and she knew that, for example, I have sex with men when it suits me. And I knew that she looked at my profile once in a while on the site where we'd met, and it was all there in back and white. My list of 'interests'.

Then one day I noticed she'd leaked across the semi-permeable barrier between the site I'd met her on and its sister site, which is very BDSM-themed. Her profile said something like "I stumbled upon this site, just looking around..". And then one day as I was fucking her she mumbled something which I swear was "I want to be your sub", but as I wasn't 100% sure (it might have been "I just hurt my thumb", or "let's go down the pub") I filed it away.

Over the last couple of months, since we've stopped fucking, we've started talking a bit more about what we both like. Especially after she saw through my I'm-seeing-someone bullshit. One of the things I've always liked about her is that she's articulate and quite direct, and as I've told her more about what I get up to, she's opened up.

She was indeed starting to have fantasies about being bossed around. I told her that what she was thinking about wasn't unusual - in my experience it's people who are used to being in charge all the time who most feel the need to have the tables turned once in a while. And she's a very tough cookie professionally and is used to being in charge and looking after herself. I told her about my own little journey... the first time I was tied up, how incredibly liberating it can be to not feel like you have to be doing something. You have no choice but to just lie there and enjoy it. (If you're curious, it was a handsome Canadian man I met in London once. He told me to get off the tube at Earls Court and to be standing outside with my hand touching the blue telephone box at 5pm one day. I did.)

She met one guy who she thought sounded great. They'd had lots of emails back and forth, quite steamy ones, and they'd talked about fantasies and whatnot. But he was a complete dud. Big strong handsome guy, and with all the right ideas.. but a little hesitant. And I know how that can ruin the mood.

Then last week she met another one. Masculine guy, 50ish. Very take-charge, and apparently exactly what she wanted. They had dinner, talked a bit about what they were looking for, she fessed up to never really having done anything like that before, then off to his hotel room where he (she said) had a lot of fun telling her what to do. He was nice about it, but definitely in charge. She loved it.

Afterwards they discussed fantasies. He said to her that he really wanted to see another guy fuck her. She said "I might know someone..."

I spoke to him on the phone today, nice guy. We're going to do this next week. I think what he wants isn't just me and him telling her what to do, it's something a bit more interesting. My sense of it (and he and I need to talk more) is that he'll be in charge, he'll be directing. I love this idea. He's sitting there in an armchair (it's an expensive hotel room, he's loaded). I come in, he presents her to me. He tells me what to do and watches. I will, of course, keep you posted on this.

Cathy - vanilla and BFE

For the next week or so I'm in a different city, and I'm living in my ex-wife's house and looking after my kids while she's... away. That's all you need to know. As a result, I won't be getting up to any mischief. But for the sake of continuity I'm going to write about two situations I have going at the moment. Both interesting, in their own ways. There's Oona, and there's Cathy.

I met "Cathy" (not, of course, her real name) earlier this year. She had messaged me on a fairly vanilla adult site I'm on. The profile I have on there is pretty straightforward - there's a picture of my smiling face, then a short paragraph about what I'm looking for.

She sent me a short message along the lines of "hello there.. nice profile, care to chat?". I looked at hers. No pic (which is fine), 40ish, single, looking for a bit of adventure. A very short profile and all the better for it - as I read it I thought "she's completely on the level.." and I was excited at the prospect. I'm sick of princesses. I wrote back, then another message from her, I gave her my phone number, she called up and we arranged to meet for coffee - her work sometimes takes her near my building.

What I liked about this was that it all took about 4 or 5 days from the initial message to the coffee date. She wrote in clear coherent english sentences, she seemed to know what she was doing, when we spoke on the phone she seemed organised and sensible.

So I went to meet her for coffee. She was pretty much exactly what she had described: 40ish, nice-looking, good bod. We sat for a while and talked about ourselves - she'd told me on the phone that she'd never met anyone from online before, and I wanted to impress on her that I was disturbingly normal. We sat an hour chatting, had another coffee. We were extremely compatible. We each had careers, kids, ex-spouses; we each also had little surprises for each other. I liked her a lot.

As we finished our coffee she said "so do you want to see me again?" and I said "Yes!'', quite emphatically and without a monent's hesitation, which she thought was quite amusing. We arranged to have dinner the following night.

I picked a restaurant about 15 minutes from my place and met her there. We had an excellent meal, talking all the while (while we waited for a table I took her to a cocktail bar nearby where I demonstrated to her my technique for ordering cocktails, which involves getting chummy with the bartender and then getting him to suggest or invent something for me, based on mood and general descriptions "tall", "fruity" etc. The drink, not the bartender.)

As we finished dinner I started getting a little anxious. I assumed I had to close the deal, and it's not something I'm great at. And I was a little off-balance because I liked her almost too much. I paid the check, we stood outside, she put me out of my misery by saying "so.. back to your place?". I whisked her into a cab and took her back.

As we rode back in the cab I was thinking. She hadn't said anything on her profile about what she was into, and we hadn't really discussed it. On my profile I'd ticked quite a few boxes for things like roleplay, bondage, anal, fisting, watersports and whatnot and she hadn't said anything about any of those. Maybe she hadn't read it, or she'd forgotten what a louche and perverted old thing I said I was.

When we got to my place we walked in without my turning on any lights. My place is next to a little park which is quite brightly lit and we ended up at the open window, next to each other, leaning on the sill. She told me about a study she'd once been involved with on homeless people in my neighborhood. I put my arm around her and kissed her; she stood straighter, held me and we kissed.

Two people, dark apartment, kissing.. pretty soon we were fumbling around, exploring, getting each others' clothes off. I so love that with someone new.... I took her into my bedroom and we started fucking almost immediately. And for the next few months, that's all we did. Huh? I can hear you ask... what about the fisting, the anal sex? What about the cuffs and ropes I have in the closet?

Here's the strange thing. That first night, we fucked. It was very old-fashioned. She lay there, I was on top of her. And that's it. No doing her from behind, no getting her on top... just very old-fashioned missionary position sex.

Now normally if I'm doing that my mind's racing. I'm wondering what I'm going to do next, I'm thinking about wet celery, egg-beaters, I'm wondering whether she'd like to lie down naked on a cold linoleum floor while I roll hard-boiled eggs at her (I exaggerate slightly here). I'm thinking what I can do to keep it a bit challenging for her, and to keep it interesting for me.

But with Cathy, lying on top of her, fucking her... it was perfect. I'd fuck her slowly, then quickly.. I'd fuck her for a little while with my cock only in a little bit, get her talking.. then slide it all in and watch as her eyes rolled back in her head and she lost the ability to speak... she'd come, and come again. And I was doing all this with my cock.. just me and my cock. No props, no elaborate setup.

There was some freakish combination.. we had had a very strong connection for some reason anyway, but there was some other physical thing as well, our bodies (or, more specifically our genitals) fitted together in some weirdly symbiotic way, the angle was always just right, it was very comfortable.

Like most men, I get satisfaction from doing things, and seeing that they're done well. Putting up a shelf,or assembling flat pack furniture. These small things burnish our male pride. So as I was fucking Cathy and doing such a superlative job of it (she kept coming, it was like I was controlling her with my cock) I was probably incandescent with pride and fulfilment.

She told me after we'd finished that night that it was by far the best sex she'd ever had, and that she assumed it was because of some skill that I had. I had to set her straight. "Its not me", I said, "it's something about you and me.. it's us".

We hooked up every week or so for a few months. And each time it'd be the same. Sometimes we'd have dinner, sometimes we wouldn't, but we'd always end up at my place, in my bed. She lying there on her back, me on top fucking her. And it was still the same... her nickname for me was "BFE", Best Fuck Ever. I liked it so much I used it (the acronym, not the whole fucking thing) as my handle in our office football tipping competition. The people I work with guessed what the "F" stood for.

Then I went away for a while, and when I got back she went away, and when she got back I was recovering from surgery so we didn't play for a while. I have a short attention span - wait! what's that shiny object over there! - and we had a couple more tries and I ended up telling her I had started to see someone and it was getting a bit serious so I couldn't play anymore.

She was susprised but, I think, not hugely surprised. When we first talked on the phone I'd mentioned to her something I'd recently heard about the "six-week rule". A friend had advanced the hypothesis that fuck-buddy relationships only last about six weeks before you either get bored, or too attached, or one of the parties involved peels off into a relationship. We'd joked about this a few times, but in the end it was about 12 weeks. Which, when you think about it, is pretty good.

We stay in touch, and catch up for coffee once in a while. But recently things have taken a surprising turn. Which I shall write about in our next installment....

MMF

I bet you're wondering what happened to Dee. You may recall she was the charming young woman who liked to be spanked, and who is a fellow language pedant (two big plusses, for me anyway).

I had suggested to her after our first meeting that it'd be fun to have another guy along - she'd be the center of attention, that sort of thing. And she remembered that she had a once-in-a-while fuckbuddy who had mentioned to her that he was interested in that as well, so we hatched a plan...

After a couple of false starts we finally managed to get together last night, at my place. She brought him along, he seemed like a nice guy. English, early 30s. I showed them in, we were all a bit nervous. She asked if I had any alcohol. I did, funnily enough. I rarely drink, but I had a bottle of champagne in the fridge, which one of my clients had given me for christmas last year. I didn't have any glasses (someone gave me some champagne flutes.. but I put them somewhere).

We sat on the couch. Pete (that's what I'll him) and I started kissing her and touching her breasts. We played around, got her mostly naked - skirt hiked up, crotch of her panties moved aside, fingers and tongues - and then she broke a tooth.

What? How...? Well, she was pretty worked up and was thrashing about a bit, and as I leaned in to kiss her she suddenly leaned forward. Our teeth collided and I felt something hard in my mouth. My first thought was that I'd lost something - I have a crown on one of my front teeth, the result of a drunken accident when I was 20 - but as I did a quick inventory I realised that everything was all still there. She was apologising profusely. I asked her to open her mouth, and there it was.. one of her front teeth was jagged at the top, she'd lost her crown.

We stopped for a moment, took stock of the damage and decided to keep going. Pete and I made a mental note that she now had a very sharp and pointy front tooth, but everything else seemed to be ok.

I'm going to leave out most of the details of what we did from then on in (you can see it in about a million pornos) except for these two and a half things:

1) Pete had no idea that she liked being spanked. They'd played together a few times but she hadn't shared that with him. He was agreeably surprised by how enthusiastic she got when I spanked her. He reaped some of the benefits of this enthusiasm.

2) When she came she made more noise than I've ever heard anyone make, I was terrified the neighbors were going to call the cops. (But then again, they must have had some idea what was going on.. it's the only time I ever have music on in my place).

2a) While she was coming, I looked at Pete. (We were face to face pretty much, between her legs). We exchanged a job-well-done look and gave each other a solemn handshake. I told her this later and she thought it was hot.

Names

Just a quick administrative note. The people I talk about, I use names for them on here that aren't exactly their real names. So Sarah's not Sarah. Judith's not Judith. Oona's not Oona. And so on. I try to pick a smut-name where there's some sort of association between the person and the name, otherwise I lose track. So when I write about Sarah, for example, I have to remember what I called her. Sometimes that means going back through the blog to see what I called her before. If I were really organised I'd have a little master list somewhere. But I'm not that organised...