Retracting the Fuck from Fuckbuddy.

Kristos has a girlfriend! I’m much more pleased for him than I thought I’d be, which is a nice surprise. Kristos and I had not been exploring each other’s pants for a while now, and I think our friendship is more to blame than anything else. How possible is it to maintain a good friendship and sex without it becoming a relationship? Surely that’s what a boy/girlfriend is? On reflection, fuckbuddies should be kept at arms length socially speaking, thus making space for the ‘bootie-call’ and the slightly illicit thrill of a quick hook-up. After all, isn’t the fuckbuddy concept designed to avoid the need for the string of one-night stands that was once all that was available to those wanting regular sex with no commitment? The option that meant you didn’t have to learn a different set of likes/dislikes each time you needed to get your rocks off? The sort of consistency we come to expect from our hands or vibrators but with the added bonus of a cuddle afterwards is what makes a fuckbuddy so appealing. However, sleeping with your best friend is much more relationshipsville, no matter what either of you intend.

So the post of my fuckbuddy is available to the ideal candidate again, unless Mr Right stumbles across my path. That could happen, right?

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Retracting the Fuck from Fuckbuddy.

Kristos has a girlfriend! I’m much more pleased for him than I thought I’d be, which is a nice surprise. Kristos and I had not been exploring each other’s pants for a while now, and I think our friendship is more to blame than anything else. How possible is it to maintain a good friendship and sex without it becoming a relationship? Surely that’s what a boy/girlfriend is? On reflection, fuckbuddies should be kept at arms length socially speaking, thus making space for the ‘bootie-call’ and the slightly illicit thrill of a quick hook-up. After all, isn’t the fuckbuddy concept designed to avoid the need for the string of one-night stands that was once all that was available to those wanting regular sex with no commitment? The option that meant you didn’t have to learn a different set of likes/dislikes each time you needed to get your rocks off? The sort of consistency we come to expect from our hands or vibrators but with the added bonus of a cuddle afterwards is what makes a fuckbuddy so appealing. However, sleeping with your best friend is much more relationshipsville, no matter what either of you intend.

So the post of my fuckbuddy is available to the ideal candidate again, unless Mr Right stumbles across my path. That could happen, right?

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I do love a nice picnic.

A while ago when the sunshine was blazing I organised an al fresco soiree in a secluded park for my friends and I. It was a splendid affair, with an awful lot of pate and Pimms, topped with good company. We were joined by our newest mutual friend, a rather striking chap called Nick with whom I had been doing some mild flirting on a couple of previous occasions. Tall, dark and broad with a rather inviting smile and a sarcastically scathing wit, I felt rather drawn to him. He said he could only join us for an hour or so but his company was most welcome.

Out of the blue a couple of hours later I received a call from Mike asking what I was doing with my evening. Being aware that his past record of social interaction had not exactly been wonderful, I was cautious but couldn’t in good conscience not invite him to join in with our festivities. He arrived not long after but the Pimms had been surpassed by the rose at this point, and my behaviour was not exactly restrained – I was celebrating summer truly! Mike was quite quiet, but as mentioned that is not exactly unusual and easily covered by everyone else’s friendly banter.

Unfortunately, Nick felt moved to steal my chair from me after a brief absence, which after some well-felt arguing resulted in me wrestling him to the ground. At Mike’s feet. Whoops. That was possibly a little full-on, even if Mike will refuse to acknowledge even a trace of romantic involvement with me in public. I did win my chair back though, and that’s the main thing, right?

Thing is, I’m an incredibly tactile girl when I’m flirting, and if there’s a boy who shuns me in that way I’m almost certainly going to try and get that gratification elsewhere…

When it became too dark to see any more a large section of our happy band decided to continue the evening at my house. Upon arrival it became apparent that there were not enough chairs for everyone, and so I took Nick’s knee. I forget who’s idea that was. So Much for him only coming out for an hour!

The evening wore into the early hours, and it was a school night, so gradually everyone left, leaving just myself and Mike. Boy, was he unhappy with me! Turns out he had been falling for me, quite apart from any designs by me to engineer it or otherwise. I really do have no capacity to judge these things! How can someone feel so strongly for someone yet have no desire to show it in the slightest? I’m not big on overly strong displays of public affection, but a gesture can mean so much as can it’s absence. Apparently my behaviour had cured him of such feelings for me beyond a handy fuck, which while sad was also a bit of a relief. I wouldn’t have been able to reciprocate those feelings, I enjoyed being his treasured princess while we were alone, but not his nothing when we weren’t.

His anger did come out in quite a forceful bdsm play session,which I think was a good catharsis for both of us. I came out black and blue but days later as I looked at each bruise it didn’t make me think of the punches that had put them there, it made me think of flirting with Nick, and then I’d smile. It had been a lovely picnic.

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I do love a nice picnic.

A while ago when the sunshine was blazing I organised an al fresco soiree in a secluded park for my friends and I. It was a splendid affair, with an awful lot of pate and Pimms, topped with good company. We were joined by our newest mutual friend, a rather striking chap called Nick with whom I had been doing some mild flirting on a couple of previous occasions. Tall, dark and broad with a rather inviting smile and a sarcastically scathing wit, I felt rather drawn to him. He said he could only join us for an hour or so but his company was most welcome.

Out of the blue a couple of hours later I received a call from Mike asking what I was doing with my evening. Being aware that his past record of social interaction had not exactly been wonderful, I was cautious but couldn’t in good conscience not invite him to join in with our festivities. He arrived not long after but the Pimms had been surpassed by the rose at this point, and my behaviour was not exactly restrained – I was celebrating summer truly! Mike was quite quiet, but as mentioned that is not exactly unusual and easily covered by everyone else’s friendly banter.

Unfortunately, Nick felt moved to steal my chair from me after a brief absence, which after some well-felt arguing resulted in me wrestling him to the ground. At Mike’s feet. Whoops. That was possibly a little full-on, even if Mike will refuse to acknowledge even a trace of romantic involvement with me in public. I did win my chair back though, and that’s the main thing, right?

Thing is, I’m an incredibly tactile girl when I’m flirting, and if there’s a boy who shuns me in that way I’m almost certainly going to try and get that gratification elsewhere…

When it became too dark to see any more a large section of our happy band decided to continue the evening at my house. Upon arrival it became apparent that there were not enough chairs for everyone, and so I took Nick’s knee. I forget who’s idea that was. So Much for him only coming out for an hour!

The evening wore into the early hours, and it was a school night, so gradually everyone left, leaving just myself and Mike. Boy, was he unhappy with me! Turns out he had been falling for me, quite apart from any designs by me to engineer it or otherwise. I really do have no capacity to judge these things! How can someone feel so strongly for someone yet have no desire to show it in the slightest? I’m not big on overly strong displays of public affection, but a gesture can mean so much as can it’s absence. Apparently my behaviour had cured him of such feelings for me beyond a handy fuck, which while sad was also a bit of a relief. I wouldn’t have been able to reciprocate those feelings, I enjoyed being his treasured princess while we were alone, but not his nothing when we weren’t.

His anger did come out in quite a forceful bdsm play session,which I think was a good catharsis for both of us. I came out black and blue but days later as I looked at each bruise it didn’t make me think of the punches that had put them there, it made me think of flirting with Nick, and then I’d smile. It had been a lovely picnic.

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Note to self: a good day does not start with a scream.

Why do handymen always knock on the door so early? I awoke with a bit of a yelp and the realisation that clothes are considered customary for answering the door. It took a few moments of fumbling for a slip for me to realise how hungover I was. It was not a good realisation. Hair like Alice Cooper and a ‘tache burnt top lip (but that’s another story for later) I opened the door to a squat, bald, handy looking man. He bustled about my leaky cistern while I realised that nothing could be achieved without a shower first and therefore had to just sit with my head in my hands as the true glory or last night’s drinking revealed itself to me in the form of scattered underwear, mascara down my face, a throbbing head and a thirst for bacon and Lucozade. Fixed in moments, (you feel like such a girl when they do that) he wished me a good day and sauntered off, evidently amused at my predicament but I was too distracted to care.

I had a date to prepare for! Yes, an actual first date. A rare creature for me as I usually meet guys in fairly datey social situations anyway, like bars or parties. The chap in question had come to my place of work -drunk- and asked me out. He wasn’t fall-over drunk, and he was evidently intelligent and interesting. My gut instinct had said no, but then my gut instinct often gets ignored for things that I think might be an unusual or entertaining experience. I am a thrill seeker after all, where would I be if I didn’t do anything that took me out of my comfort zone? Probably quite comfortable I imagine. Hmmm.

Come the allotted time, still fighting off the remnants of my hangover I go to the bar to meet him. It is closed. A big event is happening in the venue across the road apparently so they’ve shut for the evening. Not a great start. I wait for 5 minutes and a friend walks past. When he asks what I’m doing I say I’m worried I might be being stood up (though home to bed is sooo inviting right now!) He asks if I want to get the bus home with him but I feel I should give the date another 5 minutes before giving up. The date turns up shortly after and after some playful admonishment we go to a trendy bar. He buys me a drink without asking what I’d want, which is odd. A vodka and tonic. I can’t stand tonic but I let it slide. We started chatting and he became apparent as somewhat manic. An interest in hypnotism and NLP was mentioned which interested me, but when he lightly touched the top of my arm while asking an innocent question I was immediately on my guard, it didn’t seem natural and I know what he was trying to achieve. If people want to chat me up I want them to do exactly that: chat to me. Employing such cheap tricks makes me untrusting from the off.

We moved on to a much nicer bar shortly after that (DJ’ed, unknown to me, by a friend of mine), found a sofa and talked at length. I’ll admit I didn’t follow everything he said and although there were many light little touches I was getting annoyed with how much he was trying to read my actions so I started to fuck with him. I’d cross my arms while talking, rub my eye, play with my ring-finger. I’m not sure what half of these ticks mean, but he seemed to and it threw him quite a bit. It amused me and I felt he deserved it. My DJ friend came over for his break and sat with us and as he and I hadn’t seen each other for a while we chatted. I’m not used to date etiquette and fail to think things through sometimes, and so I didn’t realise how much it was upsetting my date until he stood up and snapped “I don’t know how you can be so disrespectful! You’re completely out of order!” and stormed off. I was so utterly gob smacked I just sat there with my mouth open feeling mortified in front of my friend, who pieced together that it was a first date and apologised profusely. I explained that he had done nothing wrong, and that on reflection I should have made it clear that I couldn’t speak to him right then. When the date returned the friend bought us both a drink as a (frankly unnecessary in my opinion) apology and disappeared.

The date tried to explain why he had reacted as he did, that he felt I’d been playing him, testing him, making him fight with my friend for my affections. I don’t like it when people misjudge me so wildly, and I certainly don’t like being shouted at in front of my friends. He had lost me with references to Aluminati and Demons minutes before my friend had joined us but now I was just really shaken by the bile he had spat at me. He even mentioned my friend’s skin colour as some sort of element to my supposed ‘shit-test’ which I just can’t fathom. Time to get out of there! He obviously  felt able to share his true feelings with me, so I decided to share mine with him. I told him that I understood why he was upset, but he had shocked and upset me and that I didn’t want to continue my evening with him. Also, getting carried away chatting with friends is what I do, and almost all my friends are male, thus negating my chances of any future with such a strongly possessive and jealous man as he was.

You can’t argue with that, and though I sensed he really wanted to, he held back. He knew he’d fucked it. I got a cab home and found a friend and a hug. Apparently I’d missed a really excellent night at my local  bar where lots of my friends had been with an excellent ska DJ that I haven’t seen in years.

I’d been excited by the prospect of a date, being taken out. The world of Dinner & a Movie. On reflection I think I’d rather have a night out with my mates and buy my own fucking flowers.

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Note to self: a good day does not start with a scream.

Why do handymen always knock on the door so early? I awoke with a bit of a yelp and the realisation that clothes are considered customary for answering the door. It took a few moments of fumbling for a slip for me to realise how hungover I was. It was not a good realisation. Hair like Alice Cooper and a ‘tache burnt top lip (but that’s another story for later) I opened the door to a squat, bald, handy looking man. He bustled about my leaky cistern while I realised that nothing could be achieved without a shower first and therefore had to just sit with my head in my hands as the true glory or last night’s drinking revealed itself to me in the form of scattered underwear, mascara down my face, a throbbing head and a thirst for bacon and Lucozade. Fixed in moments, (you feel like such a girl when they do that) he wished me a good day and sauntered off, evidently amused at my predicament but I was too distracted to care.

I had a date to prepare for! Yes, an actual first date. A rare creature for me as I usually meet guys in fairly datey social situations anyway, like bars or parties. The chap in question had come to my place of work -drunk- and asked me out. He wasn’t fall-over drunk, and he was evidently intelligent and interesting. My gut instinct had said no, but then my gut instinct often gets ignored for things that I think might be an unusual or entertaining experience. I am a thrill seeker after all, where would I be if I didn’t do anything that took me out of my comfort zone? Probably quite comfortable I imagine. Hmmm.

Come the allotted time, still fighting off the remnants of my hangover I go to the bar to meet him. It is closed. A big event is happening in the venue across the road apparently so they’ve shut for the evening. Not a great start. I wait for 5 minutes and a friend walks past. When he asks what I’m doing I say I’m worried I might be being stood up (though home to bed is sooo inviting right now!) He asks if I want to get the bus home with him but I feel I should give the date another 5 minutes before giving up. The date turns up shortly after and after some playful admonishment we go to a trendy bar. He buys me a drink without asking what I’d want, which is odd. A vodka and tonic. I can’t stand tonic but I let it slide. We started chatting and he became apparent as somewhat manic. An interest in hypnotism and NLP was mentioned which interested me, but when he lightly touched the top of my arm while asking an innocent question I was immediately on my guard, it didn’t seem natural and I know what he was trying to achieve. If people want to chat me up I want them to do exactly that: chat to me. Employing such cheap tricks makes me untrusting from the off.

We moved on to a much nicer bar shortly after that (DJ’ed, unknown to me, by a friend of mine), found a sofa and talked at length. I’ll admit I didn’t follow everything he said and although there were many light little touches I was getting annoyed with how much he was trying to read my actions so I started to fuck with him. I’d cross my arms while talking, rub my eye, play with my ring-finger. I’m not sure what half of these ticks mean, but he seemed to and it threw him quite a bit. It amused me and I felt he deserved it. My DJ friend came over for his break and sat with us and as he and I hadn’t seen each other for a while we chatted. I’m not used to date etiquette and fail to think things through sometimes, and so I didn’t realise how much it was upsetting my date until he stood up and snapped “I don’t know how you can be so disrespectful! You’re completely out of order!” and stormed off. I was so utterly gob smacked I just sat there with my mouth open feeling mortified in front of my friend, who pieced together that it was a first date and apologised profusely. I explained that he had done nothing wrong, and that on reflection I should have made it clear that I couldn’t speak to him right then. When the date returned the friend bought us both a drink as a (frankly unnecessary in my opinion) apology and disappeared.

The date tried to explain why he had reacted as he did, that he felt I’d been playing him, testing him, making him fight with my friend for my affections. I don’t like it when people misjudge me so wildly, and I certainly don’t like being shouted at in front of my friends. He had lost me with references to Aluminati and Demons minutes before my friend had joined us but now I was just really shaken by the bile he had spat at me. He even mentioned my friend’s skin colour as some sort of element to my supposed ‘shit-test’ which I just can’t fathom. Time to get out of there! He obviously  felt able to share his true feelings with me, so I decided to share mine with him. I told him that I understood why he was upset, but he had shocked and upset me and that I didn’t want to continue my evening with him. Also, getting carried away chatting with friends is what I do, and almost all my friends are male, thus negating my chances of any future with such a strongly possessive and jealous man as he was.

You can’t argue with that, and though I sensed he really wanted to, he held back. He knew he’d fucked it. I got a cab home and found a friend and a hug. Apparently I’d missed a really excellent night at my local  bar where lots of my friends had been with an excellent ska DJ that I haven’t seen in years.

I’d been excited by the prospect of a date, being taken out. The world of Dinner & a Movie. On reflection I think I’d rather have a night out with my mates and buy my own fucking flowers.

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Not the way to my heart OR knickers…

Random guy: Good morning!
Me: Hello there, how are you?
Random guy: I’m good thanks, I’ve been auditioning burlesque girls lately. Would you like to audition?
Me: Audition? For What? A show?
Random guy: haha! No, to be my submissive.
Me: er… thanks, but you’re a bit far away. If you’d like to see me perform I’m doing the next D—– night, should be a good night!
Random guy: I should warn you, I’m an escort and I used to do films.
Me: I take it by films you mean porn? Ok.
Random guy: I’m a large guy.
Me: you mean you’re fat or that you have a big cock?
Random guy: The latter.
Me: Are you fat?
Random guy: Slim. This should help {url taking me to his adult network page featuring shots of his proud member “the old chap” both standalone, and in action}
Me: Well done you. I have to go and, um, do something else now. Have a good day.
Random guy: catch you later xx
Me: *facepalm*

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