Anyone who follows me on Twitter might be expecting this post. I’ve spent a lot of my short life so far having some exceedingly vanilla sex. If sex with Mr T was an ice cream flavour he would probably be something wickedly delightful like rum and raisin or salted caramel complete with sauce, sprinkles and of course a massive flake.
On Sunday afternoon I tweeted two firsts I had experienced that morning with Mr T. One was incredibly good, and the first one got me a little bit scared.
My last couple of posts have been so full of new relationship bullshit, sex, eating and presents scattered with a little romance. I’ve been shouting my mouth off at work and with my friends. If you guys are sick of hearing it I’ve got a long list of people you could start some kind of Facebook mob with to run me out of town. Late on Saturday night when T staggered round to mine it clicked that he is most definitely not on the same loved up fool page as I am.
He waltzed in with his stinky kebab (not a metaphor) and drunken blue eyes half asleep and in a round-about way admitted he was still messaging some one else.
I was gutted.
As soon as he had got this piece of news of his chest he hit my pillow like a sack of shit and was out for the count while I sat up and stewed into the the early hours. I think I’ve really chucked myself in at the deep end here while T tiptoes in the shallows with his armbands on – and possibly a lifejacket just to be safe.
I had about 2 hours sleep, went out to walk the pooch and T could see I was angry! He apologised before I even told him what the issue was, knee jerk reaction!
I love being organised in every other area of my life, writing lists might even be a hobby. When we agreed to be ‘official’ for want of a better word a few weeks ago,maybe we should have been more prescriptive about what that really means. I wouldn’t message someone else, in my mind it’s looking for something else, if it’s not cheated it’s Damon near the closest thing.
I was so angry with myself for being so giddy and getting so carried away. Why on earth did we change things???? If this is the way he wants to be we should of left things as they were where I had no expectations now I think it’s too late to go back.
I was fairly straight with him and he did look gutted. I can’t figure out if he was annoyed he had told me, or genuinely unhappy with his behaviour, but being the paranoid wench I am I said we were probably fucked.
T pulled out the sex card after that as we just laid there in silence. In my head I felt like it was a parting gift and I couldn’t switch my brain off, as nice as it felt I was still gutted this was how things had ended up, as ridiculous as it sounds I felt like I had some how failed at the man game again.
Despite being straddled across a beautiful man my body bubbled with anger, more at me than him! There’s no polite way to say it but as my mind wandered so did our bodies and there was a painful clock bashing incident! Like something out of Bridget Jones, T grabbed hold of his junk and I had one of those cries where you start to shake, and snot that you didn’t know was there suddenly appears. I looked and sounded like Miss Piggy; naked and crying he didn’t really have a choice but to hug me I guess, never experienced that before and I felt so vulnerable.
I contemplated naming this blog, the good the bad and the ugly, but it really didn’t happen in that order unfortunately. Some how T swung it back around, went to man drawer of tricks to cheer up your lady opted for the pussy eating card. I can’t even remember if we talked after my spectacular outburst, but I’m pretty sure at this point I had decided this was our break up sex. No guy wants to leave a woman on a tear-filled failure of a sexual encounter do they? It’s bad press, so before I knew it I was getting warm and wet as his tounge lapped against me and his fingers teased around my cunt…
I need to profess now I am in no way looking to write this as fifty shades, I’ve never even read the thing anyway but erotica is not my forte. I read the incredible stuff by the likes of Sex blog of sorts http://t.co/puZ7zLDS6x and get turned on by the way the woman can write about butter, it’s fantastic. This is just naaaaasty stanky stuff, but hey, it happened!
We fucked like there was no tomorrow for an awfully large portion of Sunday morning, I don’t know if I will ever fail to be amazed by the staying power of Mr T. He started off on top as we got back into our rhythm and I slid my legs over his shoulders to get him in deeper until I came and clung onto him shuddering. Yum.
Mr T is always asking what I want to happen next and this is where I really struggle to be vocal and multi-task, my inner Bridget Jones appears, and I’m dying to shout, just keep up the good work! Not filthy in the slightest 😉 3 orgasms in he was still as hard as a rock and I was intent on taking full advantage, I grabbed him by the cock and started teasing him, playing with him and myself before flipping over for him to take me from behind, and as I braced myself against the wall I came again! We moved to the end of the bed, in a total sex haze. I was sitting on his dick with my back arched being held off the edge of the bed by T, my abs (miniscule) tightened and my thighs gripped against him to stay balanced. I started to come and I couldn’t hold it any longer. In bed I think men are much better multi-taskers than women perhaps? I leaned back, and my hands found the floor. I’m pretty sure it didn’t look spectacular but as I started to slide my hips up and down T took hold of my calves and slid them up to his shoulders. Oh wow. As he stood up slowly the sensation was mind blowing. The combination of the blood rushing to my head combined with the thrill and just how deep he was inside me were an incredible combination, fuck me did I come! When we returned to gravity I was absolutely gushing and extremely pink in the face. I’m pretty sure if T was a couple of inches taller the logistics would never have worked, so thank the Lord he isn’t. I have officially had sex standing on my head and I feel the world should know. We fucked against the wall, then I was like a woman possessed to make him cover me in come. Despite the poor bugger being knackered if this was to be the last time I couldn’t leave him with all the power.
There you have it, the good and the bad, what’s leftover is the ugly feeling of impending doom that we are not on the same page. The fucking was a massive distraction tactic but I can’t help worrying he’s looking for more. Watch this space.
Thanks for reading