I’d tipped my wardrobe upside-down searching for the right outfit for my third outfit with Mr. S.P. I wanted something playful, flirty, flattering and sexy. I opted for my, incredibly short and low-cut, navy wrap dress that has little red polka dots on it. Teamed with red heels and red lips, I was fairly certain this was the outfit that would stay in Mr. S.P.’s mind.
With my hair in curls and smouldering, dark eyes, I felt confident. Perhaps it had been Mr. S.P.’s perusal of me that had given me an extra boost. I felt excited and I prayed that, on this date, there would be chemistry. If there wasn’t so much as a quick snog, I thought, I wouldn’t continue seeing Mr. S.P. This was the third, and final, chance.
In the taxi, I kept checking my hair and make-up. Dubai’s summer heat made it incredibly difficult to look flawless after stepping outside for more than half a minute. I also wondered what Mr. S.P. had in store for me on this date. He’d asked me to bring a bikini and comfy clothes with me, which made me think we might be dipping into a pool or that he’d booked an evening at the spa. Neither of those guesses were right…
As the taxi approached the hotel, I finally felt a flutter in my tummy. I savoured the feeling, fearing I may not feel it again for a while. I walked into the restaurant and coolly took a seat at the bar. Mr. S.P. hadn’t arrived yet and I was aware that most of the men in the bar were staring at my cleavage.
I ordered a white wine and, as soon as I put the glass to my lips, Mr. S.P. appeared. He looked cute, with a huge smile on his face. He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a compliment on my outfit. I don’t think it was how I looked that made Mr. S.P. smile, I think it was more that I had the confidence to wear the dress in the first place.
As usual, I was immediately comfortable in Mr. S.P.’s company and we chatted without stopping, only pausing to order another wine. Several vinos later and we were famished. We relocated to a table by the window and began studying the menu. Three courses and several more glasses of wine later, and we were both having a great time together.
I begged Mr. S.P. to let me in on what we’d be doing in the next part of our date, but my begging was futile. We did, however, decide it was time to move on to the next part of the date and the suspense was killing me. As soon as we’d hopped into a taxi and Mr. S.P. had told the taxi driver where to go, I knew we were going to Mr. S.P.’s place. But why did he tell me to bring a bikini?
When we arrived at Mr. S.P.’s, he poured me a drink and told me to put on my bikini and wait downstairs until he was ready. At this point, I had absolutely no idea what was happening. It was the first time I’d been to his place and, as I changed into my bikini, I looked around and noticed how immaculate and neatly placed everything was. Then I heard my name being called from upstairs.
I walked up the marble steps and onto the landing. Mr. S.P. took my hand and led me to the bedroom. Bearing in mind we hadn’t even shared a kiss, I was wondering what to expect. As I took a step into his room, I could see he had filled it with candles. Whilst, admittedly, I did find it a little corny, it also filled me with delight. No guy had ever made that much effort for me before and I was really touched.
On the bed, Mr. S.P. had laid out a massage mat and he’d lined up all his massage oils on the bedside table. He asked me if I was ok and then told me to lie down on my front. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel awkward, which must have been something to do with the wine. Mr. S.P. let me choose some music to play from my iPhone, and then he began to massage my back.
His hands were warm and soft and his touch was gentle but effective. As his hands worked my body, I felt it tingle. As soon as he unhooked my bikini top, I knew I wanted his hands to explore the rest of my body. And as he caressed me, I drifted off into an ethereal state. It was quite possibly the best massage I had ever experienced.
As soon as Mr. S.P. had finished, I pulled myself up. His groin was level with my face, but he leant down and we finally shared our first kiss. Whilst it was most certainly passionate, he wasn’t the best kisser I’d ever come across. What pops into my mind when I think of that kiss is... teeth. After a minute or two, Mr. S.P. was lying on top of me and I was feeling the full force of his kissing. I pushed him up by his chest to control the force, which seemed to help, and we shared a slightly more delicate kiss.
I was already topless from the massage, so I felt it was only fair to pull Mr. S.P.’s t-shirt off. His body impressed me. Despite his slender frame, he was perfectly toned without having overdone it. It was very sexy, and when he pushed his chest against mine, I immediately knew I wanted to have him.
I continued to strip him, until he was completely naked and I received, yet another, pleasant surprise. Mr. S.P. may have not been the 6’3” guy I’d normally go for, but he most definitely made up for his shortcomings. I could not have been more pleased with the result when I pulled off his boxer shorts.
Mr. S.P.’s length and width were exactly what I would have hoped for and, just like his apartment, everything was clean and tidy. I could have squealed and clapped with delight! However, I managed to contain myself, instead showing my appreciation through the act of fellatio. And Mr. S.P. loved it.
Mr. S.P. then returned the favour, and I’m fairly certain I expressed my appreciation just as much as he had to me. Four minutes and one orgasm later, I was aching for him, but he had other ideas and teased me with his fingers instead. He flicked his tongue over my nipples and watched as I arched my back in pure pleasure. Enough was enough. For both of us. Mr. S.P. leaned over to his top draw and pulled out a condom. As soon as he’d put it on, he was sliding inside me.
Initially, Mr. S.P.’s size made it a little uncomfortable, but I soon became used to it and the sex was fun, caring and adventurous. It was all going so smoothly for the first time you sleep with someone, perhaps even too smoothly. There were no bumped heads, bitten lips or bruised thighs. But, as usual, my love-life cannot be without drama and, as Mr. S.P. flipped me over, I noticed blood on the sheets. At first we ignored it, but then it began to look like a murder scene.
I rushed to his bathroom to wash off and wondered what the hell was happening. It couldn’t possibly be my period, that was still another 10 days away. Had his size torn me? Had I developed polycystic ovaries? What was going on? Every time I stopped bleeding, Mr. S.P. and I would have sex again but then I’d begin bleeding. Again.
It was frustrating, irritating and, not to mention, embarrassing. Eventually, we gave up and decided to just snuggle in bed instead. It was still nice, and Mr. S.P. made sure to reassure me that it hadn't put him off me. He was concerned about my wellbeing though, which made me fall for him a little bit more. I was now completely smitten and so I decided to go to the doctor, to make sure everything was in working order, before the next time Mr. S.P. and I would get into bed…
Showing posts with label lover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lover. Show all posts
Sunday, 7 August 2011
Thursday, 9 June 2011
London Lover
He’s been my on/off lover for almost eight years and, whilst we’ve never been boyfriend and girlfriend as such, I find my feelings for J are stronger than they have been for any man I’ve been involved with. I can’t bear to not have him in my life, not matter how difficult he makes it for me.
Having not heard from J for almost five months, I’d almost resigned myself to the fact that he and I are best off apart. I don’t want to wait around for him and he has his own life and family now. But on a recent trip back home, I couldn’t help myself and ended up trying to contact him one last time.
I’d lost my original UK number that J had saved, so I had to text him from my new one, which he didn’t have. I knew the curiosity of not knowing who the message was from would be too much for him and that he’d reply… he did. Within five minutes. I’d been calling and texting him for five months without a response and now he can reply in five minutes!
Our texts went back and forth until I finally told him it was me. Cue the barrage of texts explaining why he couldn’t reply to me in the past and how hard it had been for him to not reply. He then goes on to tell me sex with me is the best he’s ever had and always will be. If you knew J, you’d have been touched by that too.
An hour later, J called me. He told me how he’d missed me and how much he wanted to see me, even if it would only be for an hour. I caved in and agreed to meet him the next day….
In the past, I’d have always made my way to his house in Shepherd’s Bush but that’s no longer possible, so we arranged to meet at a train station in London. I didn’t like the fact I’d have to meet him somewhere else. I missed walking past my old flat, down his street and through his gate. I missed the anticipation of him opening the door and seeing that gorgeous smile. I missed him grabbing me as soon as I walked in and giving me a passionate kiss. It just wasn’t the same.
I still had butterflies before meeting J. I always do. He’s one of only two men that have ever made me feel that way. He picked me up from the station and the second I got into the car with him, I melted. I’d been angry with him the entire past five months and now I was putty in his hands. He looked gorgeous and all I could think of was planting my lips on his, but I wasn’t going to make that move this time.
We drove away from the station to a quiet park. It was a beautiful, sunny bank holiday Monday in London. It was so peaceful, and fluffy white clouds sailed through the perfect blue sky in the gentle breeze. We got out of the car and went for a walk, but we’d barely taken twenty steps before J grabbed me and gave me a kiss.
Nothing had changed. The chemistry between us was, undeniably, still there. Next thing I knew, we were traipsing through the woods to find a secluded spot. Pinned up against a tree, completely out of sight from passersby, we kissed more passionately. I knew what was going to happen. I’d been unsure earlier, but had prepared anyway, but now it was inevitable.
J’s hand made its way up my leg, over my thigh to my derriere. He was pleasantly surprised that I wasn’t wearing any underwear and it made our rendezvous smoother, given the location. J unzipped the front of my dress and put his mouth to my breasts. Nobody could do to me what J was doing. After more than seven years of sleeping together, he knew my body like the back of his hand. He knew how to make me melt and he used it.
All of my feelings for J resurfaced, and I couldn’t get enough of him. I knew it was dangerous territory but I couldn’t control myself. His kisses made me so weak. We had sex against the tree, and I held onto J so tightly. I never wanted to let him go. It was an amazing encounter and one I will never forget.
Afterwards, we went for a few drinks at a pub. For the first time in a long time, we spent time together where we weren’t fucking like animals. We talked, and for the first time since he told me he was having a baby, I saw things clearly. We both laid our cards on the table. We were a couple in love with far too many barriers to overcome to make it work.
J had matured greatly since having his son. He’d become the guy I’d move back to the UK for. The guy I could finally be honest with. It’d taken us over seven years to get there, but we’d made it. It’s just a shame there are too many obstacles in the way to make it happen. But that doesn’t stop me loving him. Or hoping that one day it might work out, despite knowing, in my hearts of hearts, that it never will.
We parted on a good note and J promised to keep in touch with me more regularly. Not because I asked him to, but because he wanted to. I wanted to cry when he left the pub. I’d missed him so much and the few hours we had spent together were so amazing. But, I was happy that we’d kissed and made up. Literally.
Since I’ve been back in Dubai, J has kept his word and been in contact with me. And for the first time ever, he was the one to arrange a Skype date. But now I’m wondering what I want from this relationship. Are we friends with occasional benefits or are we something more? Is this the ‘happy ever after’ fairytale every girl dreams of or is it going to be a complete mess?
I’ve been considering moving back to the UK for J, but my life in Dubai is pretty good, I’d hate to uproot myself and then two weeks later find out it’s not going to work. It’s taken so long for us to get this far, I’m not sure I can wait another 7 years to find out if it’s going to work for us. I guess all I can do is wait and see. I’m not putting my life on hold for J, but if there’s progress, I’ll definitely go with the flow…
Having not heard from J for almost five months, I’d almost resigned myself to the fact that he and I are best off apart. I don’t want to wait around for him and he has his own life and family now. But on a recent trip back home, I couldn’t help myself and ended up trying to contact him one last time.
I’d lost my original UK number that J had saved, so I had to text him from my new one, which he didn’t have. I knew the curiosity of not knowing who the message was from would be too much for him and that he’d reply… he did. Within five minutes. I’d been calling and texting him for five months without a response and now he can reply in five minutes!
Our texts went back and forth until I finally told him it was me. Cue the barrage of texts explaining why he couldn’t reply to me in the past and how hard it had been for him to not reply. He then goes on to tell me sex with me is the best he’s ever had and always will be. If you knew J, you’d have been touched by that too.
An hour later, J called me. He told me how he’d missed me and how much he wanted to see me, even if it would only be for an hour. I caved in and agreed to meet him the next day….
In the past, I’d have always made my way to his house in Shepherd’s Bush but that’s no longer possible, so we arranged to meet at a train station in London. I didn’t like the fact I’d have to meet him somewhere else. I missed walking past my old flat, down his street and through his gate. I missed the anticipation of him opening the door and seeing that gorgeous smile. I missed him grabbing me as soon as I walked in and giving me a passionate kiss. It just wasn’t the same.
I still had butterflies before meeting J. I always do. He’s one of only two men that have ever made me feel that way. He picked me up from the station and the second I got into the car with him, I melted. I’d been angry with him the entire past five months and now I was putty in his hands. He looked gorgeous and all I could think of was planting my lips on his, but I wasn’t going to make that move this time.
We drove away from the station to a quiet park. It was a beautiful, sunny bank holiday Monday in London. It was so peaceful, and fluffy white clouds sailed through the perfect blue sky in the gentle breeze. We got out of the car and went for a walk, but we’d barely taken twenty steps before J grabbed me and gave me a kiss.
Nothing had changed. The chemistry between us was, undeniably, still there. Next thing I knew, we were traipsing through the woods to find a secluded spot. Pinned up against a tree, completely out of sight from passersby, we kissed more passionately. I knew what was going to happen. I’d been unsure earlier, but had prepared anyway, but now it was inevitable.
J’s hand made its way up my leg, over my thigh to my derriere. He was pleasantly surprised that I wasn’t wearing any underwear and it made our rendezvous smoother, given the location. J unzipped the front of my dress and put his mouth to my breasts. Nobody could do to me what J was doing. After more than seven years of sleeping together, he knew my body like the back of his hand. He knew how to make me melt and he used it.
All of my feelings for J resurfaced, and I couldn’t get enough of him. I knew it was dangerous territory but I couldn’t control myself. His kisses made me so weak. We had sex against the tree, and I held onto J so tightly. I never wanted to let him go. It was an amazing encounter and one I will never forget.
Afterwards, we went for a few drinks at a pub. For the first time in a long time, we spent time together where we weren’t fucking like animals. We talked, and for the first time since he told me he was having a baby, I saw things clearly. We both laid our cards on the table. We were a couple in love with far too many barriers to overcome to make it work.
J had matured greatly since having his son. He’d become the guy I’d move back to the UK for. The guy I could finally be honest with. It’d taken us over seven years to get there, but we’d made it. It’s just a shame there are too many obstacles in the way to make it happen. But that doesn’t stop me loving him. Or hoping that one day it might work out, despite knowing, in my hearts of hearts, that it never will.
We parted on a good note and J promised to keep in touch with me more regularly. Not because I asked him to, but because he wanted to. I wanted to cry when he left the pub. I’d missed him so much and the few hours we had spent together were so amazing. But, I was happy that we’d kissed and made up. Literally.
Since I’ve been back in Dubai, J has kept his word and been in contact with me. And for the first time ever, he was the one to arrange a Skype date. But now I’m wondering what I want from this relationship. Are we friends with occasional benefits or are we something more? Is this the ‘happy ever after’ fairytale every girl dreams of or is it going to be a complete mess?
I’ve been considering moving back to the UK for J, but my life in Dubai is pretty good, I’d hate to uproot myself and then two weeks later find out it’s not going to work. It’s taken so long for us to get this far, I’m not sure I can wait another 7 years to find out if it’s going to work for us. I guess all I can do is wait and see. I’m not putting my life on hold for J, but if there’s progress, I’ll definitely go with the flow…
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
How to be a dirty stop-out
I’ve become something of an expert when it comes to the Walk Of Shame. Earlier this month, I was caught out twice in the space of one week and, when I lived in Spain for a few months, the Walk Of Shame was so regular that it was no longer shameful. And that’s where the art of the Walk Of Shame lies - confidence.
When I initially moved to Dubai, I would nearly always take a guy back to my place just to avoid the Walk Of Shame. After a night of romping with a handsome man, the last thing you want is for strangers to see you with your make-up smeared, clothes creased and the non-Tigi version of bed head. The knowing smile and nod from a passerby always used to make me cringe, but there are ways to do the Walk Of Shame and avoid people staring.
First up, if you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, then people will stare at you thinking you’re either; a) a dirty-stop out, b) a victim of a heinous crime or c) a homeless person. So, there are basic items that every young, free and single woman needs to stuff into her clutch bag to avoid this. These are:
1. Mints or gum – A handbag staple at all times, even if you are on your period. Leaving the house without mints is like leaving the house without money; nobody will want to be your friend. After all those vodkas and cigarettes, you will have breath like a warthog’s backside and no man in his right mind will want to come within five feet of you, let alone stick his tongue down your throat. So, invest and reap the benefits. Mints and gum are also excellent for the interim period between waking up and being able to brush your teeth.
2. Contraceptive – Nobody wants a life-long reminder of bumping uglies with a drunken stranger, so remember to take condoms and your pill with you.
3. A hair band – Not only is this important whilst in the sack with your latest squeeze - thought it was a pube you were picking off your tongue? No, it was one of your own hairs - it’s also important for your journey home. With no space for a hairbrush, sweep back those long locks into a ponytail. This will divert anyone’s attention from your bed head.
4. Cotton buds – You only need one or two, which means you won’t miss out on that all-important space in your bag. The reason you need cotton buds is to remove that black eyeliner that now makes you look like a panda. I never find tissue paper effectively removes those horrible crusty bits close to the lash line but a damp cotton bud works wonders.
5. Make-up – After washing your face and removing the remnants of last night’s make-up/human fluids, spruce yourself up with a little bit of foundation and/or blusher. It’ll make you feel a hundred times better and ready to face the outdoors.
6. Perfume – Woken up next to a beast and want to hot-foot it out before he wakes? Get out, woman, there’s no time for a shower! Clothes and hair smell of cigarette smoke? Spritz a bit of perfume on them to mask the smell. Also use as a deodorant. There is nothing worse than being sat next to someone on the metro who smells of sweat, even though you might be pleased it’s sex sweat. There’s also no need to take out the 250ml bottle of Gucci Rush your mum bought you for Xmas. Head to Debenham’s and ask them for a couple of samples that come in those small tubes - perfect handbag size!
7. Now, I guess for some of you there will be a number seven – spare underwear. I personally prefer to go commando, eliminating the need to carry underwear out with me. But, if you are a knicker wearer, take a spare pair with you. There’s nothing worse than having to endure wearing the same pair of pants two days in a row. Particularly ones that are covered in good-time juices.
With all these things in place, you’re more or less good to go. Just remember not to leave your clothes in a heap on the floor when you're giving him a sexy (read:drunk) strip tease to Paula Cole's Feelin' Love. Try to place them on the back of a chair to avoid creases, the sixteen year old boy look is never a good one.
Ok, I realise it’s far from ideal to wear last night’s clothes, but there’s nothing you can do about that so you'll just have to convince yourself that's what you planned to wear that day. For example, at 3pm on New Year’s Day, I left Mr. PL's place and walked across Dubai Marina in a full length, flowing white gown. In order to not look sheepish, and give the game away to passersby, I kept telling myself I was heading to a wedding. Only I’ll know that I’m not.
Last but not least, when you hit the road, hold your head up high, stride confidently and think to yourself what an awesome sex session you've just had. Act like an embarrassed, dirty stop-out and you’ll look like one.
Happy shagging!
When I initially moved to Dubai, I would nearly always take a guy back to my place just to avoid the Walk Of Shame. After a night of romping with a handsome man, the last thing you want is for strangers to see you with your make-up smeared, clothes creased and the non-Tigi version of bed head. The knowing smile and nod from a passerby always used to make me cringe, but there are ways to do the Walk Of Shame and avoid people staring.
First up, if you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, then people will stare at you thinking you’re either; a) a dirty-stop out, b) a victim of a heinous crime or c) a homeless person. So, there are basic items that every young, free and single woman needs to stuff into her clutch bag to avoid this. These are:
1. Mints or gum – A handbag staple at all times, even if you are on your period. Leaving the house without mints is like leaving the house without money; nobody will want to be your friend. After all those vodkas and cigarettes, you will have breath like a warthog’s backside and no man in his right mind will want to come within five feet of you, let alone stick his tongue down your throat. So, invest and reap the benefits. Mints and gum are also excellent for the interim period between waking up and being able to brush your teeth.
2. Contraceptive – Nobody wants a life-long reminder of bumping uglies with a drunken stranger, so remember to take condoms and your pill with you.
3. A hair band – Not only is this important whilst in the sack with your latest squeeze - thought it was a pube you were picking off your tongue? No, it was one of your own hairs - it’s also important for your journey home. With no space for a hairbrush, sweep back those long locks into a ponytail. This will divert anyone’s attention from your bed head.
4. Cotton buds – You only need one or two, which means you won’t miss out on that all-important space in your bag. The reason you need cotton buds is to remove that black eyeliner that now makes you look like a panda. I never find tissue paper effectively removes those horrible crusty bits close to the lash line but a damp cotton bud works wonders.
5. Make-up – After washing your face and removing the remnants of last night’s make-up/human fluids, spruce yourself up with a little bit of foundation and/or blusher. It’ll make you feel a hundred times better and ready to face the outdoors.
6. Perfume – Woken up next to a beast and want to hot-foot it out before he wakes? Get out, woman, there’s no time for a shower! Clothes and hair smell of cigarette smoke? Spritz a bit of perfume on them to mask the smell. Also use as a deodorant. There is nothing worse than being sat next to someone on the metro who smells of sweat, even though you might be pleased it’s sex sweat. There’s also no need to take out the 250ml bottle of Gucci Rush your mum bought you for Xmas. Head to Debenham’s and ask them for a couple of samples that come in those small tubes - perfect handbag size!
7. Now, I guess for some of you there will be a number seven – spare underwear. I personally prefer to go commando, eliminating the need to carry underwear out with me. But, if you are a knicker wearer, take a spare pair with you. There’s nothing worse than having to endure wearing the same pair of pants two days in a row. Particularly ones that are covered in good-time juices.
With all these things in place, you’re more or less good to go. Just remember not to leave your clothes in a heap on the floor when you're giving him a sexy (read:drunk) strip tease to Paula Cole's Feelin' Love. Try to place them on the back of a chair to avoid creases, the sixteen year old boy look is never a good one.
Ok, I realise it’s far from ideal to wear last night’s clothes, but there’s nothing you can do about that so you'll just have to convince yourself that's what you planned to wear that day. For example, at 3pm on New Year’s Day, I left Mr. PL's place and walked across Dubai Marina in a full length, flowing white gown. In order to not look sheepish, and give the game away to passersby, I kept telling myself I was heading to a wedding. Only I’ll know that I’m not.
Last but not least, when you hit the road, hold your head up high, stride confidently and think to yourself what an awesome sex session you've just had. Act like an embarrassed, dirty stop-out and you’ll look like one.
Happy shagging!
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