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.