UK Dating & Sex Blog | 12 Years of Graphic Detail | 18+
The thing about not having sex with your boyfriend is the entire world seems to know about it. And no, it’s not because I told everyone. I only told you lot. I don’t know how they know, everyone else. But they know. They must do. There can’t be any other reason as to why every fuckboy in my past, and a few I haven’t even met yet, decided to enter my inbox during my eight-month stint of abstinence. All I wanted was Bear’s dick, but all I got was an…
Read MoreDid you ever have sex with someone just because you thought you ought to, not because you really wanted to? And before I continue, I don’t want this to sound like a non-consent story. It’s not… I don’t think. I’m fairly certain that I gave some kind of consent, but I’m not really sure why I did. Or what the consent was. Let me explain and tell you the story of Number 40. My Mate’s Date’s Mate I was on the other side of the world and my mate was…
Read MoreRight, quit fucking about now. Fuck me. Or let me fuck you. I don’t care which way around it is, I just need to feel your dick inside me and your hands on my naked body and your lips … don’t even get me started on just how much I’ve been thinking about your lips. We’re on eight months-ish of abstinence now. Whatever strength I had before is fading away. I’m no longer calm. I don’t want to be patient or understanding. I’m not in the mood to make jokes…
Read MoreSoooooo, do you remember a blog post I shared a little while ago called I Miss My Twenties? Well, it seems that if you talk about ’em, they’ll pop up. And pop up he did … This blog post is dedicated to him. ***** You always seem to message me on Saturday nights. I’m guessing that’s because Saturday night was always our night. Everyone else would be out partying, but not us. We’d be sat in your car somewhere, talking shit, kissing, touching, listening to music. I’m listening to our…
Read MoreYou got me some type o’ way. Yes, you. You don’t know who you are, but I do. Not that I really know you, but I know some of what you’re about – and what I know, I like. I shouldn’t, but I do. I know exactly what’s going on here, don’t worry. I’m bored. Affection-starved. In need of passion and excitement. I’m not going to do anything stupid, because I’m not stupid, but my mind is wandering. As are my hands. And it’s you I’m thinking about tonight. You.…
Read MoreThis isn’t the blog post I was going to post today. I was having an awesome day, being super-productive, getting shit done, formatting all those other posts I’ve got stashed away … and then BOOM. A cheeky little message to make me cry. Awesome. To be honest, I don’t even know why it made me start crying. Fucking outrage than anything else, I think, because I was expecting the scenario at some point. I actually thought it might have happened by now, and there were times when I thought about…
Read MoreAn ex-fling thing put some pictures of him and his fiancée on Facebook today, all dressed up and ready to go out, and I had so many thoughts that I felt it might be fun to write a few of them down. Couples get a bit weird once they’ve been together for a while, don’t they? The Facebook album titled “The Big Night Out” ends up sprinkled with an unhealthy amount of nice hotel bathroom shots, images of towels folded into weird shapes on freshly-made beds, photos of plates of…
Read MoreI always wondered what it would have been like if we’d introduced a third party into our sex life. I know it’s a bit too late for what-ifs now, but I do wonder, just sometimes. And I think that’s one of my prominent life regrets: not saying yes when I was given the opportunity to have one last bite at the girl-boy-girl bullet. I imagine it would have been a glorious occasion. I also wonder if we would have looked back over the night with happier, hornier memories than my actual…
Read MoreI haven’t had sex with my boyfriend for over six months. (It’s still Bear, by the way.) Fuck me (literally). I said it. I actually said it. That’s the first time I’ve actually acknowledged it. Sat down, worked it out, jotted it down. Six months. I bet you’re wondering what the fuck happened? Yes, well, so am I. It started with me … I was depressed. Very depressed. Couldn’t even get in the shower, brush my hair, or clean my teeth-depressed. But we’ll talk about that another time. Getting back…
Read MoreCan we just talk about Number 28 for a moment? Why? Because the cheeky fucker keeps popping into my life and honestly, he’s starting to test my damn patience. For those of you who haven’t been reading long, Number 28 is also known as The Married Guy. He’s not one I don’t remember much about — I was 18, drunk a lot, and stupid; he was married and never leaving his wife for me despite how much he protested otherwise. Of course, I was too young and dumb to realise…
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