Um, yes well. Maybe a more heartfelt take on the intricacies of dealing with women coupled with some painfully honest sexual observations.
Needing to concentrate when receiving a blowjob
I was watching Swordfish on the telly recently and it came to the scene where Hugh Jackman had to hack into a secure site whilst he had a gun to his head and was being fellated by a hot blonde.
An interesting premise about coping under pressure with a distraction but I couldn't help but think that in the same situation, I'd more than likely lose the erection.
I don't know whether it's because my knob is as insensitive as my elbow or just that I've never had a BJ where I haven't had to concentrate on enjoying it (magnifying the sensation in my mind, looking at her doing it for the visual stimulus etc) to 'bring it home' but I'm pretty certain that without paying attention when receiving it, it would simply retire for the night.
Don't get me wrong, I'm as horny as the next man (if he's one that's constantly horny!) but I don't think I've had many, if any, blowjobs where I could completely switch off and allow the animal/biological side to take over (well not until the last 30 seconds or so!).
The differences in being an object of desire for men and women
I recently stumbled across this interesting article which talked about how men are not accustomed to feeling desired on a physical level by women. It's a fascinating read that I fear I'm not really skilled enough to completely summate.
It raises some interesting questions and thoughts. I can certainly relate to having little sense of my own 'sexiness' and some other guys probably feel similar. I think it's one of the reasons why we can remember with vivid clarity the occasions that we receive a genuine compliment on our look, body or desirability from the opposite sex.
Until recently guys weren't as physically objectified (and certainly still aren't anywhere near as much) as women are and hence we expect to be appreciated/noticed more for the traits of being dependable, useful, secure and economically stable. We aren't expected to be told that we are hot or made someone turned on just by our look.
Yes, guys can work out and look good with muscles and grooming but women still show far more restraint, or deem it less important, than to be continually staring, leering out of a window or regaling their friends with how 'knicker wetting' this random was that they saw in Tesco's.
I know some women talk about their hot BF's and their satisfying sex lives (for those that receive it regularly from their partners) but how frequently would they say to guys they were dating or even considering dating, that they were sexually arousing?
I guess this leads to looking at the flip side about how many times women must receive comments or compliments on how desirable they are to men. Now, I appreciate that a lot of the time it's probably not appreciated but when you think that at a base level women are judged by men on their physical sexiness - great arse, cracking rack, slim waist etc - does it get to a point where the compliments become simple wallpaper?
Once you've been told a hundred times by guys that you are pretty, lovely, beautiful, sexy etc does is begin to pale? Do you expect it, does it actually have more impact when a guy doesn't say it? Are you aware of the power of desirability that you have?
This might all sound like psycho mumble jumble but it's like the points in Hugo's piece have been gnawing away at the back of my brain and I'm intrigued to hear women's thoughts.
If you are aware of the objectification that you receive (and I'm sorry that you have to contend with the negative side of that), can you relate to how we don't receive it, well certainly not in the same volume?
Maybe this also explains why men have the ability to embarrass women with declarations of your attractiveness and sexiness. To us, receiving a compliment like that is great. To receive a confirmation that we were physically attractive and sexually arousing would be fabulous but to you it can be tinged with uncertainty, wariness and in some cases a little unease. You can't take it on face value because you aren't sure what conditions come with it.
I've got a friend who owns a Ferrari. He's talked about times when he might be out in it and somebody at the lights might shout out 'nice car mate'. Now it's hard to calculate the meaning behind it. Are they a connoisseur that's innocently appreciating a thing of beauty or is it laced with envy?
Does he feign ignorance in the hope of not antagonising a situation or does he blip the throttle to give something back but then run the risk of being branded a show off?
Does the same thing apply to pretty girls? Is it best to ignore the compliment so you don't make a big deal of it or embrace it? Will either response leave you branded an arrogant b1tch if you don't give the compliment giver the response they want?
I know this is a rambling post but when there can be such a different outlook on vocalised desirability between the sexes, is it any wonder that we will sometimes have difficulty understanding each other?
Platonically sleeping in the same bed
So what is it with this sleeping in the bed together even though you aren't together?
For me, it's just something I wouldn't do. I'm not some lust crazed monster that can't control himself but I wouldn't share a bed with another female if were weren't actively sleeping together. Obviously I'd let her sleep in it but I wouldn't hop in there with her.
I'm not a dribbling fool in the company of women but I wouldn't be able to relax enough to be able to go to sleep knowing that I was literally 6 inches from someone else. When you relax and sleep, you've not got a great deal of control over snoring, farting, burping or rolling over. Likewise as a bloke there is also the chance of embarrassing morning wood.
I know many of the examples I've seen mentioned on forums have been after parties when people are drunk but that makes even less sense why people feel compelled to do it. I mean when you are drunk you could sleep in a sinking canoe if it remained stable for just two minutes, so why wouldn't you just opt for the floor or the sofa rather than insisting 'no, I must sleep on a proper mattress with a minimum of a 8.5 tog duvet and if that means in someone else's bed, and they'll be in there, then so be it'.
I'm sure some will make out that there's something wrong with me and it's something that loads of people innocently do but sleeping, especially when drunk, is something you do to pass the time, so I wouldn't want to get under the covers with someone unless we were going to get 'fruity'.
Embarrassing moments of a romantic nature
In the first year of secondary school I had this ridiculous crush on a girl called Samantha.
On the last day of the school year I was leaving to go to a completely different school and hence would never see her again.
I convinced a friend who sat close to her that in the last lesson he would slip a love letter, a rose that I'd taken from my granddads' garden that morning and a box of orange matchmakers, into her bag so at least she could remember me fondly (or so my deluded brain thought).
Unfortunately half way through the final lesson, she retrieved something from her bag and duly discovered the new contents. I watched in slow motion horror as she pulled everything out, looked puzzled at her gaggle of friends and then started to read the letter.
I wanted the ground beneath me to open right up to hell as my cheeks burnt with a warmth that wouldn't have been out of place in the destination I suddenly wanted to visit. I tried not to stare as she looked up from reading the note and glared over at me before it was snatched from her hand and read by the other girls around her.
It was like a black hole had opened above the desk she was sitting on because suddenly everything or at least everyone started gravitating towards that point so they could read what the school nerd had written to one of the popular girls.
The events only saving grace was witnessing the remarkable scene that the guys who'd seemingly disliked me, came round to wanting to defend me against the heckling girls who in turn altered their attitude to categorise me as 'sweet'.
Either way, I still didn't get the girl.
Ideal wolf pack on a night out
I read something recently about a film producer who had headed down to Mexico for a weeks R&R with a couple of friends.
I believe he headed out and lived up the whole bar/club scene etc with these guys. The first was a recently split from his girlfriend Leonardo Di Caprio and the other was a certain Bradley Cooper.
I can't help but think 'wow' at the possibilities for female attention and interaction that rolling with those two must have brought.
I think the only cream you could add to that mix would be maybe Clooney to add a slightly older more refined edge but still, heading out with Leo and Bradley - can you imagine!
So who do you think would be great to 'hang' with? Obviously I'm not talking who you'd want at your dinner table but rather who would be cool to go VIP bottle service at a slammin' Vegas club with?
I'd love to party with Sheen but I think Leo and Brad would be a pretty impressive strike team with the ladies.
Are you any good in the sack?
I wonder how people would rate themselves or think they compare in the bedroom loving stakes?
Are you a bloke who can look at a woman and think 'I would shag the living shit out of you and give you the time of your life in the bedroom' or more think 'yes, we'd have fun but at the back of my mind I wonder how I stack up against her previous lovers?'
Likewise are you a woman who thinks 'I could show a guy such an awesome time in bed that he'd blow like a volcano and practically pass out from the exertion' or more thinks 'let's see where it goes and I hope he's not too rough'?
So on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being an innocent creature with minimal experience and a lie there and think of …… (enter country of choice) attitude and 10 being a black belt, marathon session loving, orgasm giving monster, where are you?
I'm probably (and based on listening to friends, people on forums etc) a 5. I appreciate that's middle ground average but I believe my 'weapon' to be fairly average and my experience to match it.
I'm not beating myself up (or off) and I don't think I'm terrible. I enjoy kissing, caressing, squeezing and all of that jizz/jazz but I think when it comes to the ultimate act, I might be lacking compared to others. I like sex, the friction, the intimate connection but with so much talk of the aggressive physicality of intercourse - fucking, smashing, destroying, banging, hammering etc, I don't feel I'm a titan in this regard.
I find that with the pounding and pile driving, after a period of time it can become impersonal and robotic. You can end up in a situation where you're actually trying to think of anything but what it is that you are doing, just so you can delay yourself cumming and continue what you're doing (if that makes sense).
There you are shagging a lovely woman that you've fancied for weeks but you're actually thinking of Mo Mowlam to keep you from bringing the pounding to an end.
I've been to bed with a few women but I can't think of any that seemed to really love hard dirty sex. Yes, they enjoyed it (well I hope they did) but I've never had a wild screamer that wanted it regularly and begged to be 'fucked harder'.
I'm not blaming the women at all, I appreciate that they may have wanted to but felt they couldn't with me and I recognise that the failing is on my part, but I think it does have a bearing not having had someone who just enjoyed the raw physicality of being fucked.
Commitment issues
A friend recently asked me why I had commitment issues. It was a major question and one that I thought would be a little tough to answer in a quick couple of lines. I tried to but it did get me thinking, which is never a bad thing or maybe it is! I've tried to expand on it but even now I'm not sure if I'm just scratching the tip of the iceberg.
I know many talk about it as being a fear of being hurt. I never like this term as it always comes across as melodramatic and hugely self indulgent, like I'm some delicate flower that can be mortally wounded by a woman's lack of interest.
I think a better explanation is that I'm reluctant to be weak or not in control. I don't like getting to a point where I've come to enjoy and almost expect/rely on the pleasant interaction that a woman can offer for it then to be switched off. Almost like a wannabe addict who admits that he doesn't want to sample too much of the drug for fear of how he'll cope when it's taken away.
It's not the hurt or rejection, for that is easier to assimilate and process. You become hardened to it. It's the feeling of weakness that you wanted something that only another person could offer and they took it away. You relied on them for joy and entertainment, almost weaning yourself off other distractions, and when it went the hollowness and feelings made you feel weak and needy.
My parents divorced when I was 9, mum remarried when I was 12 and endured what seemed to me a pretty loveless marriage. My father pretty much did the same. My uncle got divorced and so did my grandfather. I'm not seeking sympathy or saying I'm special but I do think regularly seeing relationships falter does formulate an expectation that they won't last.
Likewise there does, certainly for me, exist a belief that almost when you start believing that 'this could be something' (and that could be weeks) is usually right when it all falls down. This being magnified if you actually discuss the blossoming relationship with someone else. You might as well caveat your comment to friends that you've found someone with a 'but I'm sure now we'll be finished by the end of the week'!
Again maybe the ultimate expression or example of this is getting married. You're telling the world, God (if you believe in him) and all your friends and relatives that this person is The One. When that comes crashing down all you're left with is painful memories and the feeling of being made to look like a fool. There you were loudly proclaiming your love for someone and feeling invincible in your 'married bliss' armour and now you're left with nowhere to live and having to start all over again.
For me, committing to love or marriage is unconditional. You lay it all out, you put all your chips in without any hesitation or concerns. It shouldn't in my mind be a brokered business amalgamation, you shouldn't be measuring their flaws against their advantages and deciding which bet offers the best long term investment. This is love, this is from the heart not from the head and I think the 100% commitment and the related risk of exposure is what unnerves me.
So having then witnessed (in both family and friends) marriages that were lacking in affection, consideration and seemingly needing to be 'worked at' (I'll concede that there are a few notable exceptions), I'm not surprised that I've come to embrace and realise that the intensity, the joy and the expectation of loyalty and affection can only exist (for me) in the short term. The lightning in the bottle that burns brightly and intensely but is released before it has a chance to fade away to dust.
However, as I seem to even struggle to obtain the short term, I don't think I need to worry about being wary of the longer term!
Having your bottom pinched
First off, can I say that I don't agree with randomly pinching women's bums. Granted, there are many I might find attractive but I think it disrespectful to assume that just because you find them physically attractive, you have carte blanche to put your hands on them.
Anyway, that aside why is it that when you do get your bum pinched in a bar or club (and I confess that it happens way less to me than it must do to women) it's always in the form of quick ugly jab. Like you've been pecked by an angry chicken?
There's seemingly no warmth behind it, no attempt to actually feel the contour of the bum being pinched, just a seemingly angry dart that feels more like an electric shock. I've spoken to women who have made the same observation.
I can't comment for others but if a woman wants to feel my bum (and I've no problem with being objectified) then I'd rather it was in the form of nice little tap or maybe a soft cup.
Erotic fiction
I've got time for erotic fiction. In the right mood and with some decent subject matter, it can be pretty arousing. However, I do find the enticing 'crashing waves of never ending ecstasy' usually takes a comical nosedive when the author, struggling to find an erotic name for genitalia, resorts to using the term cock or pussy.
Obviously they are descriptors but they always seem so school playground-ish that they jar against the other sexually charged and far more emotive words.
Embarrassing moments of a sexual nature
I once was at an after work function and was getting amorous with a lovely Irish lass. It was my first proper bout of passionate kissing so I was getting right into it.
Anyway, the lights went up and we decided to get a cab back to her place with a couple of her friends, who also happened to be work colleagues of mine.
Needless to say that in the cab ride back we re-instigated our charged kissing, which was delightful and a little arousing.
Anyway we got to the house and her friends headed in and into the kitchen to get the kettle on. I followed them in and when they took a seat they looked at me and started laughing.
"Did you enjoy your time in the back of the cab?" they asked.
I looked down and saw that the green trousers I was wearing (yes admitting that is embarrassing and it was a good few years ago but that isn't the punch line) had a small but blatantly obvious wet stain on them from where I'd clearly been getting way too excited and started to dribble pre-cum.
Unsurprisingly, I was a little mortified especially as the only way to remove the stain, was well creating a bigger one.
Romantic regrets & missed opportunities
There are quite a few, as you may discover, but for now lets mention this one.
I regret not going over to a bunch of bikini clad American girls who were playing Frisbee in a park near Niagara Falls.
My cousin and I were holidaying in Canada and had just driven for about 4 hours to Niagara. We parked up and as we walked to the entrance, we saw a bunch of girls playing in a park that bordered the car park.
It was a roasting hot day (and not great that we'd been in a car with out A/C for that length of time) and they were all in bikinis, looking like something out of a Baywatch programme. As we looked over, unprovoked and unashamedly, about three of them waved at us.
I was gobsmacked that they had instigated some form of contact and almost in a trance raised my arm to wave back. I wanted to go over but thought my cousin would have thought it a little base with the majesty of the falls round the corner to have been distracted by some pretty girls.
Little did I know that he was thinking the same thing and as we both hurried round looking at the falls all we could both think of was heading back to the park.
Unsurprisingly when we did return two hours later, they'd moved on and it was the lowest point of my entire 10 day holiday in Canada/US. I remember simply collapsing in the park where they'd been playing and feeling like I'd been kicked in the stomach.
Okay, I'm sure in reality nothing would have happened but I couldn't help but imagine that bowling over with our English accents and our 'living for the moment' spontaneity with all our cr&p in the car would have led to some serious fun.
It wasn't the missed shag thing, it was more the missing of that make believe, fantasy American Pie, two English guys with a bunch of American girls scenario that for many years later I've subsequently painted in my mind.
It still haunts me even today.
Sexy underwear
I shouldn't really answer this as it will make me look like some kind of neanderthal philistine but I find it hard to justify any underwear costing over £10.
Yes, I can see the issues of quality of stitching, softness of fabric etc but the truth is rarely am I wearing just my boxers as I amble around the flat in front of a potential mate.
Likewise I don't wear my trousers low enough or my pants high enough that a woman would spot the Calvin Klein or similar branding running along the top.
I can see the appeal of nice underwear but seemingly my experience is that few of us spend a great deal of time 'just' in underwear. It's either a quick flash as your pulling on your clothes in the morning or if they are being tugged off in an act of rampant sex.
Granted there might be times when a little foreplay involves spending some time in your underwear and the sexiness of under garments can add to this but, well, I'm just clearly not getting enough that it's worth me wearing the CK's for the chance that I might get some unexpected sexy time.
The last person you'll go to bed with
When you are younger, you give thought to who will be your first, what it will be like and when will it happen.
It leads me to wonder when it is you begin to think "this could be the last person I ever sleep with". Of course in loving marriages I understand that maybe you think this as you tie the knot.
I'm 38, which I know isn't old, but it's certainly a thought that has crossed my mind. Okay, I'm not kept awake by the thought but with relationships harder to form, casual sex less likely when you become older (yes I know there are websites) and, if I'm honest, the thought of wrinkly sex, far from appealing, one does begin to think "have I only got a few more years left" or even worse "have I had the last sex I'm ever going to have".
The way I look at it, as you become older you become less attractive to an ever growing majority of the opposite sex. If you asked anyone what they think on average would be the most sexually active years, I reckon they'd say 25 - 30. So following that logic as you move away from that age group, opportunities and possibilities are likely to become less and less.
As I said, I'm not depressed by it but it's an interesting parallel to how when you are younger there's this feeling of 'it will happen when it happens' but as you get older the feeling can become 'if it happens, it might be the last time it ever happens'.
So what's the most romantic thing someone has ever said to you?
I can't really think of any for myself though someone complimenting my lips when I was about 22 always makes me smile. One of my favourites, and I appreciate that this is from a film and hence a little less real, was the line that Jack Nicholson says to Helen Hunt in As good as it gets.
He's been going on about how he's started taking these pills to improve a condition that he has and Helen is confused at what he's trying to say to her. He crystallises it down by saying "You make me want to be a better man".
I can be a romantic, and a cynic, and always find the smallest, tender moments of affection the most heart warming.
Hence to me it's never the grandiose, look at me posturing that some go for but the intimate and genuine comments that have the most resonance, whether that's a spoken word of pride about your other half, a squeeze of a hand during a film or just a long look that you might catch them giving you.
I agree also that it's more about what they say about you as a person rather than you being beautiful or handsome. Don't get me wrong, being called fit or sexy makes my day but a comment on who you are, and the connection they've made with you means so much more.
To that end I appreciate the comment about my lips was hardly romantic but it resonated because for some reason I used to get teased at school about them being big (I don't think they are that big) yet here was someone I was crazy about commenting on how much she liked them.
Money or Love?
When I was younger I thought the dream of love was all consuming. Wrapped in it's blanket, anything was achievable and fulfilling happiness would never be far away.
Grow a little older, grow a little weary and to me it doesn't have the same appeal. Faced with the choice of a lottery win or genuine love, I'd take the money without a shadow of a doubt.
With sensible investment, you can rely on that money. It won't disappear, it won't leave you, it won't find something better. It's there and it has the ability to bring you happiness, excitement and a host of possibilities.
It might not bring the warmth that the fairytale notion of love could bring but really when the odds are that you might not even find that I'd rather take the solidity and assurance that cash in the bank can bring.
Love isn't fate based or designated from above. It doesn't reward the good, the pure or the fair. It's a question of being in the right place at the right time and having something that the other person wants enough to make them come out their bubble and into yours. Even if money only brought me transient relationships with money seeking honeys, I'd still take the money over love. It would keep me entertained, keep me moving and keep me busy.
I've learnt to occupy myself without a partner for some time now so if presented with continuing that with a bundle in the bank over finding the 'one' I'm fully aware of what I'd choose.
Some could respond "I take it you've never been in love". The implication being that because I have a less than rosy opinion, I must just not have experienced it properly. Like saying 'I don't like ice cream' and someone piping up "clearly you've never had real ice cream".
Maybe I haven't but who can say what love is? How does one compare your own interpretation of love to others?
Credit me that at nearly 40 years of age I'd have a reasonably good handle on what I believe love to be and in turn make the decision of whether I would be prepared to never (if some want to believe this) or never again, experience it in favour of big money.
At an age where love isn't going to be that breath quickening, heart pounding, heady running through waterfalls or rolling in summer meadows, I'd willingly trade that against the security that £500,000+ would bring.
Love is a transient, second hand emotion. For some it's a crutch, for others the glue of convenience.
Many are so certain that they will fall in love as if it's some kind of basic right and I wonder if this is because they assume they will just 'luck out' and find someone truly special or just that their need for love will eventually outweigh their 'wish list' of what they truly want.
Do people believe love just happens and is a totally uncontrollable, ethereal entity or is it something you go looking for like a used car with checklists and comparison charts?
I do wonder if people do realise that you can have friends, you can have fun, you can make a connection, have relations and even go to bed with people without actually being in love with them. You don't have to be shallow, you don't have to be insincere and you don't have to be emotionally cold but equally you don't have to fall in love with everyone.
Big money would increase your exposure to more people. You'd be out more often, you'd be doing more interesting things and you'd be in different locales and venues. Why do some assume that not finding love means you'd be miserable and home alone, rocking backwards and forwards and muttering to yourself?
I'm not blind and I see the advantages that a genuinely loving relationship can bring. It's just that for me the dream of that would never outweigh the solidity of money in the bank.
I guess in the final analysis (IMO that is);
With love, your happiness is reliant on someone else and their continuing to love you.
With money, your happiness is reliant on yourself and your ability to utilise it.
Clearly I have more faith in myself than I do in either love or others.
You know you are watching too much internet porn when…
You recognise the displayed thumbnail from the clip and immediately note that the enticing description of said scene is wholly inaccurate.
She's not the busty step daughter who can't do her homework, she's the neighbours niece who needs a hand parking the car!
Wanting to date a 9 or a 10 isn't always about being shallow
To me, wanting to score/date a 9 or a 10 isn't all about being shallow. I think it's also about receiving the ultimate validation.
A 9 or 10 has numerous options. They are presented with opportunities on a regular basis. Hence if they decide to be with you, you feel validated because they have chosen to be with you, above the others and hopefully for all the reasons that they claim are so important.
With a stream of guys vying for their attentions due to their looks/figure they are in the position of being selective. Using that opportunity, they can pick, choose and filter through the chaff to choose you because of your sense of humour, your consideration, your affection etc. They have the tools and the popular appeal to sift through the bad boys and the empty pretty boys and find the guys with the hidden killer personalities.
Go with a 5 or 6 and there is the feeling that maybe she was becoming desperate, that there were little other options for her to choose from or that you just happened to show her some affection/attention when others weren't.
So although, it sounds shallow to want to be with a pretty girl (and really who aspires to want to be with an ugly person?), I think it's more about the validation that a honey has 'chosen' to be with you and wants to remain with you for all the reasons that they claim are more important to them.
My experience of speed dating
I went along to one a few years back as I'd always been curious to what they were like. A work colleague and I had spoken to the organiser beforehand and she'd sold it up a little. My cynicism had always been that it would be full of sad desperate losers and thus was conscious that by going along it would indicate that I had fallen into this group!
She assured us that it would be a nice mix of people and ages.
So we went along. I'd prepared a list of like 20 humorous and leading questions. Not in some geek fashion but because I know it's easy to freeze up and also because I thought it would be fun to 'bounce' in with a "give me a number between 1 and 20" and then we discuss the relevant questions. I hoped it would also get over the generic questioning that others might be doing - "what's your name, what do you do, what's your favourite colour"
So we went along and waited for the people to turn up. My worst fears were proved correct. Nobody was under 45 years old, (I was early 30's at the time) there were people wearing cardigans and trainers that had clearly made zero effort to look presentable and there wasn't a single person I actually wanted to talk to.
I'm not being nasty or arrogant. I appreciate I'm no catch but there wasn't even a single woman that I thought "I'd like to talk to her and will happily sit through all the others to do so". Some might say that I wasn't entering the spirit of it but ultimately you are doing it to interact with some possibilities and if from the get go you can't see any, what should you do?
We called the organiser over and relayed to her in a nice as was possible way "they are older than you said and there isn't a single woman that I'd like to talk to". The female colleague that I'd gone with felt similarly about the male offerings and we made a cowardly but in my mind correct decision to bolt for the door!
I'm reasonably ok chatting with people in that kind of situation. Indeed if I think others might be embarrassed or uncomfortable it almost emboldens me to be louder to mask their shyness. I think however you've got to have similarly aged people. With that, and approached in a fun manner, it could be an enjoyable experience.
Everyone having 'great sex'
I'll admit that I don't think I'm great in bed or have an overly large schlong. I'm not saying this as some form of pity seeking but more to counter the notion that it seems that everyone else is always having 'great sex'.
Are they really?
Now I concede that I enjoy taking my time on a woman (well certainly for the first couple of goes) but I don't go through a work out plan of eight different positions with six reps of each, all timed to last 10-15 minutes and finishing in a crescendo movement that involves a chandelier and jumping from the wardrobe.
With the amount of guff discussed around Sting and his lengthy sessions and then Sex in the City's gossipy talk of women expecting great sex, it does make you wonder if everyone is actually indulging in this earth shattering sex or simply that they like to talk a big game?
I like variety and to try some new things in the bedroom but I do think if you go out of your way to 'spice' it up, it can become more like a test or ordeal to go through. Almost like you are doing it so that you can say that you have "great sex" rather than actually wanting to do it.
I know people will cry out 'you are inexperienced and are clearly boring in bed' but there is a fine line between maintaining the pleasure and intimacy of intercourse and fulfilling your five minutes of the inverse locust position before then swapping out for the reverse crab because you believe you have to deliver 'mind-bending sex' on every occasion.
Instead of pounding away like some kind of tarmac shattering power tool, can you sometimes not derive pleasure from simply being inside a woman and knowing that the two of you, at that moment, are connected on a physical level of intimacy that transcends anything and everyone else?
Okay that last paragraph sounded overly spiritual but I can't help but think that unless I am prepared, or able, to deliver a minimum of 100 minutes sweat dripping, stylised thrusting with her toe in my ear and my knee in her armpit, then I'll be considered disappointing in bed.
Boots staff uniforms being quite sexy
I was in Boots last night and it dawned on me how sexy the outfits are that the women wear in Boots. I'm sure they don't think so, and each to their own, but to me the dark blue trousers with that crisp white tunic is a sexy combination of nurse meets dental assistant.
To make it even better, and with my fondness for the 'more developed' figure, many seem to wear a tunic one size too small!
Approaching women made easier with a lottery win
Personally I'd find this way easier to deal with. At least in this instance you could draw some confidence that there was something tangible that you were offering.
I don't think I currently have a great deal that a woman would actually want. Some might say I'm good company and can be a laugh but in my mind it's hard to imagine that anyone would actually want that. I'm not being 'mopey' but you wouldn't normally consider your personality to be special would you?
I mean, it's just you and how you are. I know we are all different but you couldn't really say to yourself, 'my personality is so magnetic and fun that it will be amazingly attractive to others.' It's not quantifiable and thus isn't something 'real' that you could bring to the table.
When you see a pretty girl, they have something you want. Whether that is their figure, their looks or just the notion that a cracker like them could fancy you. In your mind those things are tangible and real hence without anything equally definable or of similar merit, you feel like you are lacking something.
Okay as things progress hopefully your personalities will be compatible and deeper feelings can materialise but initially you need something to counter their impressive 'package'. With a shit load of money in the back, you would at least have that.
I know many would say "you'd attract the wrong kind of people" but I think my confidence would become stronger and I'd feel more equal. In turn this would mean I could respond pragmatically with "they want me for my money and I want them for their looks". Without the money, what bait could I hope to offer to snare someone special - an obsession for movies, breasts and spag bol?
The differences between oral sex for men and women
Now I appreciate that giving oral sex is about being considerate and wanting to give something to your partner but I do sometimes wonder if women appreciate the difference between them fellating a bloke and us performing cunnilingus.
Okay on a bad occasion a woman might have to contend with a smelly/cheesy knob but a bit of spit, a vigorous rub with your hand or even on his belly and you can pop that baby in. Unless it's gigantic or miniscule it's reasonably easy to put in the mouth and there isn't a danger that you'll keep losing it. It's either in your mouth or isn't. We might worry about your teeth but your tongue won't have to hyper extend itself to find it.
Being an extremity of the male form means you can use one hand to hold or steady it and the other to make sure it's at the right angle for you. Your nose can remain free and clear away from the mans body, which allows you to breathe easily. As long as you don't get carried away or have someone over eagerly pushing your head down you can limit the depth of intrusion and reduce the danger of gagging. Ultimately put, and simplified down to its core, if you've ever enjoyed licking a lolly you are going to be capable of giving a bloke an enjoyable experience.
For us blokes though it's a little different. We have to put our face and breathing apparatus inside you. Unless we're blessed with a foot long tongue, if we want to get right in there, our nose is going to be virtually in you. In many cases we'll have to move hair aside to get to the prize, though some will still end up on our tongue and once through that will have to contend with the lips.
Yes we can give them a little nibble on the way in but again they are something else that needs to be moved aside meaning that your fingers will either need to possess the dexterity of a Harp player or you have the kind of facial and lip muscles that could move a chocolate from your forehead to your mouth with no hands.
Then there's the taste. It's sour, in most cases like popping a couple of old copper coins that got lost down the back of your sofa into your mouth. There's also the smell. Again, it's not always unpleasant but your senses are heightened so with your nose firmly planted in her gusset you are going to detect something. Granted a bloke could smell but at least you can keep that at arms, sorry knobs, length.
So you are going for it, licking the stamp and this in turn makes your mouth go dry which along with the dull ache forming at the base of your tongue only adds to the experience. Of course if you are doing your job right, you should be receiving all the lubricant you could need and she'll be moaning like a Union leader.
That though brings its own problems in that the very area that feeds your lungs is now pressed deeply into something wet and sloppy and doesn't facilitate the flow of air that well. Of course you could slightly pull away to breathe but just at that moment your tongue flicks across the magical 'make them bark like a dog' spot that you might find once a month and you are loathed to lose it.
The fun continues if you try to bring in the 'point multiplier' of some finger action. With all the hot spots located up and at the front, your hand has to go in palm up to allow your fingers to bend upwards, meaning that the heel of your palm is now effectively brushing along your chin and inexplicably feeling that your own body is trying to push your head further into her.
By the time you do pull away you look and feel like someone with a heavy cold who's been apple dunking for 20 minutes but still not got the apple.
And whereas some women seem to like blowing you and then immediately want to kiss you as a demonstration of "look I'm noshing you off so you can taste what I am" I always feel it only right to trace a path up their body so at least the worse of the residue has been wiped off. Add to this a need to blow your nose and it isn't any wonder that when you then look down your 'chap' has lost it's earnest eagerness as blood and energy has been re-directed to preventing you from drowning.
Don't get me wrong, it's still great to please a woman like that and I'm not whining. It was just an observation that giving oral sex to a woman is a little more challenging and although I'm sure more women 'give head' than men 'plate' this figure would be more equal if the practicalities of doing so where the same.
Considering a partners past loves and lovers
I've seen on forums and read questions in the paper recently when people have talked about what they should tell their partners regarding their sexual and relationship history. Many people respond with either
"it's none of their business" or
"why would I want to know, it's irrelevant and only indicates deep insecurity".
I'm always intrigued by these answers. Why wouldn't you be interested about the past of someone you were having or thinking of having a relationship with, especially concerning their interactions with the opposite sex?
Granted if you were having a one night stand or casual sex, it would be pointless but being curious to know what someone is like, is not that strange is it? Unless you've known them for years, how else do you build a picture of what that person is like without discussing their past?
Although I agree that its not wise to think about it too much, I do think it natural to be curious about a partners past and then to wonder how you compare to that past. We all have ego's (even if some affect an air of pretension that other peoples opinions are irrelevant) and we all like to hear complimentary things about ourselves. Hence, wondering how you stack up against others either as a man, in a relationship or in the sack is of interest.
Okay it's a can of worms to go seeking praise but equally it's nice to hear a girl say "you're the best kisser", "I've never been treated as well" etc. Those kind of compliments don't have any meaning or merit if you aren't aware of the past. Surely for a partner, you want to be the best for them. Nobody wants to be thinking 'she loves my cooking but I'm the worst shag she's ever had'.
I also think experience, whether of life or sex can have a bearing. Hear that someone has played more of a game than you and it's natural to think that the other person would likely be better at it. I mean compared to some of the self confessed bedroom titans that fI've listened to, I imagine that I'd be a pretty poor lover. If a girlfriend confessed she had bedded over 30 blokes, it would be natural for me to think 'blimey, how am I going to stack up against some of those'.
Now that doesn't mean I'm weak or immature. What I'm simply doing is being human and admitting that I know I'm not perfect and that I wouldn't want to disappoint, when compared to the number of previous lovers the girl had had. Is that wrong, should the alpha male stumble on believing that I'm the best at everything?
I guess ultimately we all want to be memorable and unique. No wants to admit that they want to be lost in the mire and easily forgotten. Hence when someone has a larger number of dates/men/shags to compare you to, there's more chance of the latter happening.
Working at a dead marriage for the sake of the kids
As a child that went through a divorce of his parents at the age of 9 (with them having given it another go at 6), another marriage for my mum at the age of 12 and separation 16 years later, I can comment from the child side of things.
I hear a lot of people saying parents should work at the loveless, squabbling relationship for the sake of the children but it doesn't always work. They think they are providing stability for the kids but ultimately they are just exposing their children to their soap opera histrionics and the sight of their parents clearly not getting on.
Because they are 'working at something' which is clearly dead, all they are doing is causing more pain for their children than if they had split earlier in less acrimonious circumstances. They have the pain of seeing their parents constantly arguing as well as creating or at least watering that seed that all relationships ultimately end up in arguments and bitterness.
I do agree that you shouldn't end a marriage flippantly and owe it to your children to try and put a finger in the dam before it crumbles but once it's gone it's better for the children to kill it quickly.
When is it time to say enough is enough
When I was younger people would say "You can't hurry love" and "When you look, you don't find". I agreed with them. There was no rush and it would happen when it happens.
As you get older it begins to dawn on you that it isn't happening, despite all those friends safely coupled up telling you how easy it is to find someone. You listen to advice but are fully aware that you've tried different things and advice given from the comfort of an armchair with an arm around their partner doesn't quite translate out in the single world.
You analyse yourself thinking well the law of averages means it must be me doing something wrong but how do you know what to change? What one person likes, another might not, so the only constant is to be yourself.
For a time the worry turns to desperation but this eventually turns into apathy and a default setting that nothing will happen and even if does it won't last. You feel you still have much to offer in terms of love and affection but come to realise that in reality no one really cares.
The world is a shallow place and you either fill another person's immediate tick box and their five minute attention span or you don't.
"You can't help who you fall in love with"
I always laugh when I hear this statement for I believe it to be complete nonsense.
Love is a great thing but let's be clear, it isn't a random act. I'm all for
There has to be a little effort on your part, and hence involvement, in securing a loved one. You make a choice to date someone, learn about them, love them and maybe even marry them.
You might fall immediately in lust with someone (Diora Baird, Michelle Marsh) but falling in love does take a little more time. You don't just switch on the TV and fall in love with Robert Mugabe.
I think people use this statement in the main as an apology and absolution of responsibility for the actions of their partner. I know he's a lazy bastard, he knocks me around, he's a petty thief, he's a sex offender, he's a murderer but you can't help who you fall in love with! - Well yes you can actually.
I guess for me this statement leads to two issues
1. That it implies who you fall in love with is an accident not governed by yourself.
2. That once you've fallen in love with someone, no matter what they do, you can't fall out of love with them.
Maybe I'm a cynical, cold hearted bastard but love to me is a very big word and something you don't fall in and out of with the frequency of changing your hairstyle. Saying it to someone has weight and gravitas and thus I wouldn't say it unless I was completely sure.
When people say "you can't help who you fall in love with" what is it they are basically saying? That they are not responsible for who they fall in love with?
Who is then? What makes it happen? The birds, the gravitational pull of the moon, global warming?
You have to take responsibility for your choices and your actions. If you get introduced to someone's girlfriend/boyfriend and they are a rude, unpleasant piece of work then that will reflect negatively on the individual that has chosen to love them. You can't sweep the failing under the carpet with the "you can't help who you fall in love with" line. If you choose to love someone who is rude and unkind then you are giving your tacit approval of it.
It's like when wives and girlfriends continue to stand by convicted murderers, rapists and other criminals. You can see them giving this resigned shrug of the shoulders "I know he's a murderer but you can't help who you fall in love with".
Associating yourself with criminal scum, particularly when the association is the powerful feeling of love, means you are ok with it so don't try and get out of besmirching your character with a lame arsed "you can't help…". That's bollocks and pathetically weak.
Either say "he's a shit, we're finished and I couldn't love anyone like that" or say defiantly "Yes I still love him regardless of what he's done". Don't try to hoodwink everyone with this woe-is-me, middle ground appeasement bullshit that it's not your fault and that you don't want to love him but it's out of your control.
Urban myth of the tuna paste in the fanny
I don't know if you have heard of this one but I seem to have heard it a couple of times from different people. It's the one about an amorous couple making out in the kitchen. As the arousal escalates and they are feeling adventurous, the bloke crams some tuna paste which has been on the side for some time into her 'special place' and then proceeds to erm, eat it out.
Everything is fine until a few days later when she complains of abdominal pain and it transpires that a fly had laid some eggs in the paste which had incubated and hatched inside her!
A horrifying story but you know this is false because really, even in the throes of passion why would any guy want to make a 'noony' taste like the last thing he would want it to taste of. That's like a girl slapping some parmesan on a guy's chap below blowing him.
The difference between men and women sleeping around
I know it's unfair that if a woman sleeps around she's branded a slut and if a bloke does he's labelled a stud but there is an element (only an element) of truth in this.
If people want to sleep around and they have the opportunity to, then I say bravo to them, regardless of their sex. But I would say that it is harder for a guy to have regular sex than a woman.
If a woman walks into a club and wants to have sex that night, in all honesty it wouldn't be that hard to make it happen. Most guys would jump at the chance and a girl wouldn't need to expend a lot of effort to get laid.
If a man walks into a club and wants to have sex that night he is, in most cases, going to have to woo a girl and put in some serious effort to make it happen and all with the chance that the girl won't want to do anything that night.
With women, especially those younger and reasonably good looking, having sex is simply case of yes or no. If they want it they can pretty much get it. Hence for a woman to have slept with a lot of guys it is more because she has said Yes more times than saying No.
For a man, having sex is something that you have to make happen. It's very rare for a woman to come up and demand sex, hence you have to put some work in. Whether this is chatting them up, buying them drinks, buying them dinner or all manner of other things. Hence for a man to have slept with a lot of girls it is because he's put in a lot of effort and 'seduced' a lot of women.
For this reason a woman is slurred for sleeping around because to do so isn't a measure of her interaction or persuasive skills where as with a guy it is.
Getting over someone if you've been treated badly
Anger is a great emotion to help get over someone. I don't mean in it manifesting into physical outbursts but rather using it to keep out those weaker thoughts that try to sneak up on you when you aren't looking.
You know the ones like "was it my fault", "did I mis-read the early warning signs" and "have I been made a mug of".
You can turn that hurt into anger or coldness that can buoy you with the confidence to say "f*ck her, I'm going to go out and have fun".
As I said I'm not advocating going mad at anyone as this kind of thing displays weakness but those first few weeks after dumptown are hard with lots of post rational questions and analysing. The annoyance that comes from being wronged (assuming that you have been) can be a useful tool to get your through the weaker times.
I always look at it like the half life of something radioactive. The hurt gets half as less every day so it turns into a numbers game. The more days you can keep your mind occupied and off her (ie going out with your mates, watching films, removing all traces of her) the easier it will be when your mind does eventually dart back to her.
The joy of undressing a large breasted girl
Undressing any girl is nice but slowly removing the clothing of a naturally big breasted girl is just fantastic (well at least for me). You may have seen them before but every time you break those puppies free it's like Christmas day morning all over again.
People who get married more than twice
Surely you'd be thinking 'you know, I obviously ain't that good a judge of character so why don't we take it easy to begin with.' Also how can the 'wonder' of marriage still be intact when you've just had two shitty examples of it?
Everyone can make a mistake and that's fine but if you get to your third, you really should just say to yourself 'Maybe marriage and I just don't get on'.
Guys that 'shark' their mates
No excuses. You are a piece of shit.
We all might like chatting to a girl but if you know a mate fancies someone, then 'sharking' that girl is just plain wrong. Do you do it to prove how much more of a man you are than your so called friend? If you put your friendship at risk just to demonstrate your pulling power over a transient girl that you might never see again then you shouldn't consider that person a mate.
Love songs not having the same power anymore
I used to love listening to love songs when I was younger. I'd catch Mellow Magic on late night Capital radio and listen to endlessly compiled mix tapes that I'd put together on late night car drives. I always seemed to be striving to get the ultimate selection that would sum up everything I looked for in love. Some obscure, some that had a message, some that you could make out to and some that you could just cuddle to. I always wanted the selection to be unique with the ridiculous notion that it would impress someone into seeing how much more special I was than others.
I did eventually attain it, which I still have on tape, called the Love Zone. It had all the songs that meant things to me as I was growing up. Kool and the gang, Air supply, Lionel Richie, some Mariah, Janet Jackson etc and it ranged from the 70's through to the current day. It finished with my big three of How Deep is your love (Bee Gees), Hands to Heaven (Breathe) and The Power of Love (Frankie goes to Hollywood).
I even went through a phase where I would go to bed early just to listen to a three hour late night radio show with Adrian Love on Chiltern FM. The songs and the mood they created had a power over me and helped me believe that one day I would be curled up with someone special listening to them again. I may have felt lonely at the time but they seemed to keep my optimism high that I could find someone. They made me imagine a place where all I would want to do is hold someone while we listened to the music together.
Of course at the time I foolishly believed that this is what relationships would be like. Intimate moments of tender affection while soothing, romantic music played in the background. It's like they helped keep me in the 'game' and maintain a hope that genuine love could be found. This was a time of Tracy, Sally and Vicky and when I think love and affection was what I really craved.
Over time, and as lifestyles changed, I listened to them less and when I think about it so did my faith in finding love diminish. Whereas before listening to them would leave me melancholy but optimistic, now they would depress me and remind me that 10 - 15 years later and nothing had changed. When I think of the dominance that that genre had over my listening habits it's amazing how they have almost been completely removed. Now it's rock, pop or dance with a nod to soundtracks or classical when feeling low.
I dug out 'Hands to heaven' while I composed this entry and listening to it again has left me calm but hollow. Maybe this is just indicative of the hopefulness of youth being replaced by the wearying cynicism of maturing age and thus something that we all share.
My first wank
I guess all males have their 'first' story at some point so here is mine. I remember from about the age of 13-14 beginning to get erections but not knowing what to do about them. Rolling on the bed to put pressure on it was a pleasurable experience and I had experimented with rolling the skin up and down but with little effect I gathered that there must be a bit more to it.
I plucked up the courage to discuss it with one of my mates. You always had different mates who fulfilled different roles when younger and he was the one I went to when wanting to talk about girls and sex. He told me how I needed to keep rolling it up and down until I wouldn't need to anymore. He didn't really explain what exactly would happen but said that I would apparently know when it had.
I remember that night laying on my bed and as instructed, started to play with it. Nothing much seemed to happen at first but I tried different grips and strengths until I could feel a change inside me. Like a fluorescent light attempting to fire up or a PC turning on, I could feel different parts of my body beginning to act strangely. The backs of my knees began to go tingly and sweaty, there was a real, noticeable warmth in my face and cheeks and it felt like someone had turned the washing machine of my lower stomach onto a slow spin.
There was excitement but there was also trepidation. My body was coming online in places I didn't know it could and I could feel things building to an unknown and unstoppable conclusion. My body had never been in a place where it was controlling me, but now it was. My breath quickened, my mouth went dry and my body and muscles tightened like an over wound elastic band. Suddenly I was coming in a hot, disorientating, shuddering climax and from being tense with every muscle straining I felt I'd been gently dropped into a bath of warm custard.
I was truly blown away, my mind was racing and I couldn't believe it. I had just discovered something wonderful, a way of receiving amazing pleasure that my body had had within me yet I'd not known about. I was charged, I was amazed and I had to share the experience with someone, anyone.
The molten lava 'discharge' had splashed across my chest and shoulder yet I seemed oblivious to it or simply forgot it as I pulled on some underwear and raced into my mum. She was lying in bed, reading a book and I burst in to say "Mum, I've just come". It sounds ridiculous, and maybe even sick now, but I was incredulous with what had happened. I'd found the nirvana of self pleasure and more than any other day or event in my life I knew from this day forward that I would be different. I was now a wanker!
To her credit she handled it very well. She closed her book, looked at me and said
"well thank you for telling me that".
"I can't believe it" I said "I just had to tell someone, goodnight"
God or whatever, had given me this gift to give myself pleasure that didn't hurt anyone or cost anything. How could that be, where was the penalty, what was the catch?
The catch was that you had to wait a couple of hours before you could do it again, and in the early days I certainly tested that. The penalty was that for weeks, months and even a couple of years, I would always feel dirty and ashamed after having a wank.
It was great and a purely natural thing to do but it didn't sit with my imaginings that I was this wonderful example of innocence, longing for true love. I wanted to be a romantic, I wanted to find the special girl, I wanted to believe in making sweet love only when married to a beautiful wife but in reality I was nothing more than a horny teenage male desperate for my next wank.
Husbands/wives saying "I don't understand him/her"
Is the above statement not an indication of the amount of people who marry for the wrong reasons.
I know I have this fairytale idea of romance and partnership but I would want to understand completely my future wife. I'm not talking matching jumpers or anything but she would be the most important thing to me, the person I'd decided to spend my life with, and hence I'd want to understand and know her passions and interests just as I'd want her to do to me.
She might be obsessed by shoes, shopping and a TV series and me by movies, games and spaghetti bolognaise but I'd want to understand those passions and respect the pleasure they brought her because I'd love her. I'd want to know what makes her happy. I'm not saying I'd want to take them over and I understand the importance of people still doing their own things but I wouldn't want to talk dismissively and disinterested in the things that were important to them.
I'm sure many will laugh and say that I'm unrealistic and naive but if we are believing in the wonder of marriage and that this is someone you have chosen from the whole world to share the rest of your life with, is it that crazy?
I can't stand it when husbands and wives speak with contempt and derision about the things that interest their partners. If the things they do or like doing open them to ridicule from the one person who is supposed to be their greatest champion, then at least have the courage to admit that they aren't who you want anymore and finish it. Either way, the more you slate them for their differences, the more foolish you look for staying with them.
Blokes inability to maintain their friends once partnered up
I know I grumble about women in relationships and their nagging and chipping away at men but ultimately it's the guys who are the weak ones.
When a girl gets into a relationship she keeps her mates, she maintains contact with them and she still has girls nights out with them. Look for the 'ring of steel' in any bar or club. A lot of guys (not all) it seems are happy to drop their mates or lose the balls to maintain their pals at the merest hitch of a skirt.
It doesn't have to be in a grand gesture but more in the way how they just aren't fun to go out with anymore. When they were single you could go out, have a few drinks, chat to some girls if the chance arose, have a laugh and you never knew where the night might end.
As soon as they've met someone and you go out with them they don't really want to drink and if they do then they need to take it easy because they've got so many jobs to do the next day. They don't want to dance anymore because why would they want to look silly and whereas before you felt they wanted to have a laugh now you can sense, just at the back of their mind, that they regard you (and the nights they had before) as a little sad, pathetic and desperate.
Worst of all though is that if you do get them out you can tell that they don't really want to be out. You catch them sneaking off to make pointless calls to 'check in' or firing off a text to comfort their partner that they're having a crap time and would rather be home with them. You wish they had the balls to say "Listen, I'm out with my mates who I rarely see and I'll talk to you tomorrow or when I get in" but of course they won't. Even though they feel all tough and extra confident because they've scored a girlfriend they are more controlled and under the thumb than they ever believed they would be.
Wearing socks whilst having sex
And realising that you've still got them on as you stripped each other in the throes of passion and then trying to surreptitiously remove them with your toes.
Do I only want, what I know I can't have
I know this statement can apply to a whole host of things but when it comes down to women I'm beginning to believe that it is most definately true.
I think for so many years I've had an idea of what it is I want or seen girls that I want but can't have that I've just become used to it. If someone expresses an interest in me romantically then I'm just not interested. It's like I dismiss what they say they are feeling for me. I can't help but think that they're either mistaken, taking pity on me or just plain winding me up. I find it hard to picture or visualise someone having feelings for me. The idea that someone wants me purely for me, for who I am, for my OCD bullshit, my opinionated rambles, my insecurities seems alien to me.
I'm the one who thinks about things, I'm the one who has feelings from afar and hence I can't compute someone being the same with me being the centre of their attention. When I look back on the few that have felt that way they don't seem real. Each one has a reason to be dismissed. They were playing me, they had no one else, they weren't really that into me.
Some say I'm too fussy. That I compare everyone to this image I have in my mind. I don't feel that I do. I might compare what I want from a relationship but who knows what exactly will attract you. You either feel it or you don't. Being fussy would imply that I have choice and options. Despite my online presence and always being on the lookout I still don't have the exposure or get enough attention to be able to pick and choose. When I think about it the last date I had was nearly 2 1/2 years ago.
In summary I think I've been conditioned for so long to not getting anyone, that it's the ones that will continue this trend that I seem to think about.
The big one
There's no point in having a section titled Sex & Relationships and then avoiding the big one is there? Some might think it's going too far with the openness but really, what do I get from taking it to the grave? It's just something that all of us have had to experience for the first time once, so why not talk about it? Maybe someone could use it as a stick to beat me with but hell, there is plenty of other stuff on here to use if they wanted.
So, as you may have read I discovered solo sex around the age of 14. Initially I thought it was something dirty and unclean but I began to realise that it would be even nicer to try it with someone else.
I had these stupid notions that 'giving' someone, or letting them 'take', my virginity was a gift that I would bestow on someone that I felt was special. They weren't fairytale dreams that the other person had to be perfect but they had to be important to me. Of course the only thing stopping me was my innate inability with girls. During school and late teens my interaction with girls seemed to consist of admiring them from afar or become completely obsessed with a girl so that I believed I almost loved them and hence couldn't then associate the notion of shagging them.
I sailed past 18, 19 and 20 with nothing and no one on the horizon. It hadn't fully sunk in yet that it wasn't that I was holding out for anyone special but rather that clearly no one actually wanted to go to bed with me. It wasn't until 21 that I even had my first proper snog with someone.
My first kiss with a girl was when I was 11 and was with a girl named Rosamund Reed. Little did I know that I would wait a full ten years before I took it up to the next level of french kissing! On the occasion in question it was with a lovely Irish girl called Claire, who amazingly had exactly the same birthday as me. I remember going home with her and embarrassingly staining the front of my trousers due to my 'excitement' caused by some back seat fumblings.
We had a cup of tea and she took me up to her room. I waited while she went to the bathroom to prepare herself for bed. What I didn't realise, and I'm not saying she did it deliberately, was that this meant than once I'd brushed my teeth etc and returned to the room I would have to undress whilst she watched from under the covers.
Nowadays I'd make a joke of it by putting on a routine or trying to lasso my boxers over the head of the waiting woman (I'm joking about the lasso-ing part) but as a 21 year old man who never been naked in front of anyone but my mum it was a little nerve-wracking. Unsurprisingly when I clambered into bed I wasn't, shall we say, 'up for it'. This was further compounded by her wanting me to use a condom (understandable) and expecting (quite rightfully) for me to be able to put one on.
Of course one thing I hadn't done prior to this night or any night was check myself into the Condom Application clinic and hence it was all a little new to me. I'm not saying I'm big in this department but this condom seemed tiny, so as well as cutting off the circulation, I also realised I was trying to roll it down when it was on inside out. Needless to say that the moment passed and we decided to pack it in for the night.
I went to bed with this girl a couple more times but nothing was happening and were certainly weren't an item. I'm not being harsh but I think it was just a drunken fumble that maybe I continued a date too far.
So I continued to plod on. This wonderful gift was now becoming a bit of a curse. I was certainly interested in girls and had definite ideas of what I wanted to do with them but no opportunities arose. Tracey came and went, as did Sally and with them less and less chances it seemed of having sex. What I had believed could be something that someone would remember taking was becoming a millstone around my neck and something that I just wanted to get rid of. From believing I was being selective, I was now beginning to wonder if I would ever lose it.
I was 23 when I started chatting to a supplier who lived in
We started fooling around and I felt pretty confident with the whole kissing and foreplay thing. She didn't have big boobs but I amazed myself by discovering that if I ran my knuckles backwards and forwards over her nipples she went crazy. It was incredible. I hadn't read about this technique or been told it by anyone yet I seemed to have stumbled onto foreplay gold. She wasn't putting it on for me but could pleasing a woman really be this easy? I continued doing that and fumbling around and after about an hour (I'm not joking) of working solely on her, she orgasmed.
Again, being all new to me this was quite amazing. I felt quite chuffed with myself and thought that after having pleased her for so long it could be my turn. There was nothing romantic or sensual about the act. It went in, I moved it around and I came. To be honest I wasn't interested in learning the finer elements of the technique and she clearly didn't want to teach me. In all honesty I believe she was getting a little bored, so I just wanted to do it.
I felt good after I came and lay back to savour the moment. Taking my virginity didn't mean a great deal to her and all she wanted to do was clean up and get to bed. When we did, she didn't want to cuddle or anything and went out sparko. I lay there for a little while contemplating what had happened.
I did feel different in a way. Like I was part of a club now and that I couldn't go back to where I was before. It hadn't happened how I'd dreamed it would. My romantic notions of how I would lose it had been replaced with desperation and probably one of the coldest examples of love-making that I've ever experienced.
We had breakfast the next morning and I left with a thanks and the knowledge that I would never see her or speak to her again. It's all pretty disappointing when you look back on it. A ridiculously late age to lose your virginity, to someone who didn't really care and an unsatisfying act to boot, bar the making her orgasm bit which gave me a small ego boost. I don't blame her. Hell, it was quite cold of me to go up there and basically use her like a prostitute but I guess few things happen how you would like them to.
There is a small upside though to having waited so long to have sex with someone. The next time I did it, which must have been about 9-10 months later, we made out five times during the night and then four times in the morning. More incredibly on the first two occasions after 'coming' I remained hard throughout. It was only after the third explosion that it needed a rest. I've never had that since and it was pretty incredible but I don't think I'll ever be sure as to whether it was an experience worth waiting until 23 before losing my cherry for.
Weddings
I've just seen a programme on TV about weddings and it reminded me of my thoughts on them.
On the shallow side I wish I went along to more of them because you know that every woman there will probably look the best she will look for that entire year. They've bought the outfit and planned the outfit almost as much as the bride. It's like going to an Essex nightclub where every woman will have made that extra effort to look tip top. Of course there is also the free food, drink, dancing and numerous people watching opportunities. Yes, I've seen the Wedding Crashers.
On the deeper side I really do believe in the beauty and wonder of marriage despite, or maybe even because I've seen two marriages fall apart in front of me. Rarely do it see it though. The day and the event seem to gather such a momentum of it's own that the reason for it happening gets forgotten. Tempers get frayed, patience wears thin, pressure builds and looking at the marrying couple you would hardly think they were in love.
With co-ordinated balloons, family politics and cold food to contend with the notion of adoration and commitment seems overlooked. Someone said to me that a wedding is just for the bride or the bride's family to display their wealth or to live out the marriage they have always wanted for their daughter. I know I have an unrealistic fairytale conception of marriage but I think alarm bells would be ringing loudly if my future wife was more concerned with appeasing her parents than listening to my thoughts.
I've been to very few weddings where the two protagonists are capable of displaying the true meanings of their marriage. Affection, love and pride.
Buying my first 'adult' magazine
I'll never forget this one. I'd been a couple of times to my local newsagents to buy some milk or a paper and furtively glanced up to the top shelf where all the adult magazines beckoned me with the promise of female flesh. A couple of times I'd even plucked up the courage to grab one to have a quick look before jamming it back onto the shelf and hurrying out.
One of my mates said he was aware of a newsagents in our local town that had a great selection of magazines and didn't give the punters any grief or uncomfortable questions on age etc. I knew the kind of things that interested/aroused me so I didn't just want to grab the first thing I could get my grubby mitts on. Even then I didn't want to waste £3 - 4 on something that would be unsatisfactory. Anyway we made our way down to the newsagents and it did indeed have a long shelf full of a wide range of porn mags.
We started off on the middle shelf casually looking at golfing or power boating magazines whilst we surveyed the scene for any customers that might come in and uncomfortably surprise us. Nothing worse than to be caught by a young female coming into the shop while we flicked through the graphic pages of a jazz mag.
The coast seemed clear and we respectively reached up to grab a copy of whatever it was that had caught our eye. No sooner had I started flicking through the pages, cheeks ablaze with a mixture of nerves, embarrassment and excitement when I heard the tinkle of the bell above the shop door opening.
In utter blind panic I fumbled to return the magazine to the top shelf but the magazines were all layered on top of one another as they stretched along the top shelf and I struggled to slide it back into place. In my haste I must have caught it as I pulled my hand away and managed to start this tidal wave of tumbling, cascading magazines that ran along the entire top shelf like some kind of horrific, slow motion domino rally. From quickly and discreetly attempting to return the magazine to the top shelf, I'd now managed to completely clear it of publications, resulting in my friend and I being surrounded by half open porn mags all over the floor. My embarrassment did all it could to make me spontaneously combust through my skull but I had to simply mumble out a barrage of apologies as the female Asian shop assistant hurried over to assist us in putting them back.
We stuffed them back as best we could before grabbing one each, slapping some money down on the counter and bolting for the door. It made for some nervous hilarity as we traveled home but I do remember that after all of that I was distinctly unimpressed with the magazine that I had grabbed.
Being a slave to your phone when expecting a text from a girl
Send a text to someone, especially a member of the opposite sex and you can't help but become a slave to checking your phone for a reply.
You don't expect one straight away and hence play it nonchalent. After half an hour or so you look at the phone bemused, then check to make sure that you did actually send it. With still no reply you end up leaving it another room but find yourself making spurious reasons to enter the room to glance at the screen to see if you have received anything. In the end you resort to switching the phone off because really you couldn't care less if they send one to you and it will also perform a quick signal check.
When they do eventually respond you have the dilemma of how long you should wait before responding. Do it quickly and you might be able to strike up a nice run of texts though you might across as too eager. Leave it too long to play things cool and they could get bored and not respond for days!
People saying they are sex addicts
Don't you wish you could just get enough to determine whether or not you can't get enough.
Can love and romance still be as exciting when you are older
As you get older you become more experienced and possibly more cynical, depending on how good your experiences were. Lives have become more ordered and predictable. Decisions involving your future are more considered and future security is always taken into account. With this in mind is it then still possible to have that impulsive, crazy, pulse pounding love.
Organising a relationship when you get older seems to involve so much more managing and work. You've got the first meet, then the careful dance of texts and emails, the first proper date, the attempts to impress, the subsequent dates and the ever looming when we will do it, is this the one, should I introduce to friends and family questions.
When younger you had less worries and were ready to lose your composure to the vagaries of wild romance. You had the freedom to react to the crazy, addictive spontaneity of the situation and allow yourself to become fully consumed by it. Does though the controlling, cautious, one step at a time mentality of the older generation (myself included) kill the notion of heady romance. As we become more sensible and mature does it become a passion killing carefully orchestrated selection process rather than the unpredictable, rollercoaster that it is meant to be.
I long for another taste of that kind of romance but now that I'm part of this age group am I consigned to the sparkle free tedium. Bearing in mind my selection can only be from this sector am I governed and disciplined by their ways as failure to comply paints me as an immature, mid life crisis suffering fool incapable of adhering to the rules and expectations of his unwanted age group.
Can you hope for anyone special if you don't feel you have anything special to offer
I like having fun and I enjoy the flexibility and independance of being single but I would like to have some special. Can I really though hope to find someone special if I haven't got anything special to offer in return. Everyone is looking for what they can get out of a relationship, whether being in the company of beauty or greatness so am I deluding myself in wanting someone nice when I'm not sure if I have anything worth wanting.
I'm not moping or being depressed, simply trying to be realistic. Women are attracted (and quite rightly so) to good looks, wealth, position, ambition and achievements. They look for indicators of this such as a good body, well dressed, a nice car, important job, nice house, good social circle, well travelled etc and it's right that they do this. It's only natural and it makes sense to look for a good mate.
When you have little or few of these indicators what realistically should you hope for. Is the notion that having a fun personality, a quick wit and a youthful enthusiasm enough to get a good girl truly ridiculous. Have I blown it. Should I consign myself to the heap. Can I really look at great girls and think that they aren't going to be disappointed when they look behind the facade.
I guess if you win the lottery you would know that you have something tangible to offer. Ok there is the danger that they may only want you for your money but at least from a confidence point of view you are aware of something that you have to attract girls. Maybe this leads to the bigger question that in reality I don't want to let anyone close in case they realise what a disappointment I am. Maybe it's the fear of seeing this disappointment in a girl and having to embrace the realisation of it that ultimately worries me more.
It sounds like I'm a bitter, depressed cynic and maybe thats what I'm becoming but I've not always been like this. I've seen two marriages split up in front of my eyes and I don't blame anyone for this. It's life and I think I was maybe better armed at a younger age with the knowledge that relationships don't always work. Despite this though I was always very optimistic when younger. I used to contemplate finding someone special but I didn't consider that it might never happen. People would say don't worry it will come, when you look you don't find and I was happy to move along thinking when it happens, it will happen. Somewhere along the way cynicism has crept in and is beginning to take over.
People suggest internet dating and agencies and I know that they work for some but not for me. Although I have more reason to doubt the existence of romance when you get older I still want to taste it. I don't want to force its appearance and I don't want it to be a tick box selection. I've surfed the internet for a good three-four years and it's very hard to make friends. People don't read you right, no one expects honesty and thus take you the wrong way when you are sincere. Everyone seems to have an internet persona that masks the real them and hence when you cast the honesty rod you get no bites. Be more guarded, be more protective some say but I don't know how to be and am unsure if I want to be.
So whats the answer then. Keep plodding along I guess until I either attain something that makes me special or that one in a million girl takes a peek behind the curtain and actually likes what she sees.
What's worse - Post or pre cum
Pre is a real pain. Get aroused and you can embarrassingly discolour and stain a pair of light trousers giving a visible sign to your wannabe lover that you are a dribbling sex maniac, you have to contend with it running down your leg and the unease of wet stickiness as you walk and if a girl does get to yank down your boxers she will be greeted by a virtual bowl of angel hair pasta as lines of pre cum tangle around your packet.
Post is no better. No matter how much you clean, squeeze and almost milk that udder you can guarantee that one blob of it will have painfully super-glued your helmet to your boxers requiring potentially embarrassing but immediately necessary correction, mis directed piss on your next toilet visit and finally how that even if you were wearing dust free, white rubber pants your tip would still manage to find enough black fluff to make a scarf.
Women are from Mars and men are from Venus
I've not read the book or had the theory explained to me but I can certainly see the concept of women being from another planet.
On nights when I'm out in a club or pub or if I'm driving through town and spy a selection of honeys they might as well be on another planet. For it seems they are just a million miles away from me. Maybe it's a comment of my piss poor levels of interaction but it really is like I can see them, observe what they do, take note of how they act etc but I might as well be looking through the Hubble telescope because if I dare to consider entering their world I'm reminded that I'm not from it and that there are light years of empty void space between us.
It just seems that they are laughing, dancing, having fun, having meals, fooling around with other guys but totally oblivious to my existence or appearance. Almost like I'm an alien visitor fitted with a cloaking device that allows me to see them and move among them but just not be visible to them.
Is it possible to find real love?
I was listening to the music from The Green Mile recently which always puts me in a thoughtful mood and I wondered if it is ever possible to find genuine, real love.
We live in such a shallow, insincere world. People are so quick to make judgements, so willing to pigeon hole people and go on first impressions or the surface shine that you wonder if we can ever take the time to look deeper and actually connect with another person. People are so guarded, so reserved, so fearful of giving the wrong signal or coming on too strong that the barriers come up. Maybe this is in part to protect or shield against those who love or live for the soap opera drama and histrionics that they assume relationships should involve.
Me, I just want to know whether I will ever be able to find 'The Green Mile love'. By this I mean either being able to watch the film with someone special that they understand the deeper meanings behind the film, feel it touch them in the same way I do and also feel the same emotional highs and lows when I do. Or be the woman who I am lying on the bed with, spooned behind her as the music from the film plays softly on the hi-fi. If I can feel the intimacy and tenderness as our bodies press against each other, as I stroke the hair away from her face, feel the warmth of her neck on my lips as the simple chords of the piano wash over us.
I know I dream of the impossible and the unobtainable for as I grow older the dream of this fades but it is a sweet dream that warms me in the lonely cold of the night and I will hold onto it for as long as I can.
We are trying for a child
I've always loved this statement.
It's the only way that a couple can ever openly admit to parents, grandparents, friends and other relatives that they are banging each other senseless every single night, in every single room.
It's almost like it legitimises their desire to have sex. Any other time and it won't be discussed in open conversation but drop the 'we are trying for a child' bomb and it can be debated over the dinner table with un-flustered ease.
"How's the trying for a child coming on?"
"Very well thanks. It's tiring but we both had a damn good session last night". Parents it seems are even happy to discuss their siblings sexual habits with neighbours when used in this context.
"Oh yes, John and Jenny are doing very well. They are trying for a child you know".
Marriage. Is it all it's cracked up to be?
Whenever I listen to people who are married talking about marriage all I hear is what hard work it is. How it's all about compromise, working together and learning to give and take. Personally I wouldn't look at having to preceed every action or decision in a marriage with "this is me compromising", "this is us working together". Surely those actions would be second nature with a partner that I love enough to marry.
I rarely hear from those actually doing it how great it is and I rarely see real affection between married couples.
Many seem to constantly bicker, pursue their own hobbies with scant regard and even disdain for the other person's interests and always want to start the first verbal assault or have the last word. I've seen marriages with cracks, chasms, partners staying together just for the kids and complete break ups. The ones that seem to last only do so when a comfort zone is found that means they live two separate lives under the same roof.
Yes there are exceptions and I do know of these but there aren't many. I know I have a fairy tale view of what I look for in a wife and what I hope my marriage would be, but surely thats the best way to look at it. When, and if, it happens I want it to be a magical experience, not a carefully brokered business amalgamation.
Some have said that I'm too fussy and will die a lonely man but I'd rather be alone than be part of some stale, loveless, constantly 'working at' sham of a relationship.
Being single and stuff
Being single is fun and I'd never want to feel trapped or confined in an unhappy relationship. The lack of commitment, freedom to do as you please, the liberty and independence granted to let you pursue your own dreams, aspirations or interests has many benefits but sometimes, I think, the bravado can be a bluff to hide loneliness.
There is many a time in my quieter, more thoughtful moments that I wouldn't trade my independence for some companionship. Someone to share quiet, intimate moments with. The chance to watch a good film snuggled up on the sofa with someone special, the desire to alleviate a bad day by sharing your evening with a loved one, the opportunity to wake in the middle of the night and roll over for a tender cuddle, to be able to exchange a reassuring/knowing glance across a crowded room or simply to feel the squeeze of your hand before doing something brave.
When I was younger, I dreamt of these things and consoled myself that there was plenty of time, I'd listen to love songs optimistic that one day I'd share them with another and strive in exercise and achievements to make myself a better catch. But as you get older and chances pass you by you notice that opportunities become less and you realise that time is running out. Favourite love songs now become painful reminders of the love I have not yet found and the fire to keep you looking attractive begins to fade as you question whether this is the very thing that is holding you back and ultimately something over which you have little control.
Any fleeting possibilities that come along are considered but ultimately do not match the one heart crushing emotion that I've always sought and a fear grows that you'll either spend a life alone or be forced to accept a 'make do' relationship that would be a sham to both you and her. A feeling that you'd accepted second best because you felt you couldn't do any better.
I don't know, the independence is a great pay off of being single and when you are socially busy, having fun or being entertained then it's fantastic. It's just those quiet moments that it bites and you miss not having someone to share things with.
Finding someone can be so much harder as you get older. At a slightly older age people of your own age seem to only want relationships and younger people dismiss you as they seem to think you only want relationships. Nights out are restricted to the two of you and sometimes maybe three, the dinner parties that everyone else seems to have you don't get invited to and if working for a small company your social circle is restricted. The most frustrating thing is that it seems when I was younger there were more opportunities yet I didn't have the confidence or experience to deal with them. Now when I'm a little more comfortable with myself and a little more confident that I could keep someone amused for a couple of hours the horizon is as dry as an Ethiopians soup bowl.
There is no justice, no fairness and no patience being rewarded. You can't find someone special by being a nice guy. Be too honest and sincere and you scare them off, be too guarded and mysterious and they get bored, be too friendly and supportive and they come to 'love you as a friend'. Life is unfair and you either turn into a bastard and something you are not to attract the girls or continue fumbling along in the darkness dreaming and waiting of finding someone special.
I guess I'll just keep subscribing to the 'you can't hurry love', 'be patient for the right one is out there' and 'look and you don't find' theories but I must confess that my cynicism is beginning to take over my optimism.
Idiots, relatives and friends who say 'Go get a girlfriend'
Yeah like they are as easy to pick up as a pint of milk and a paper. Or that for all this time I hadn't realised that simply making a conscious decision to 'go get one' would offer up limitless possibilities.
The whole 'when should we sleep together, will he respect me thing'
I don't go on masses of dates but I've never understood the whole after two dates we kiss and after four/five we shag kind of thing. Doesn't creating boxes and zones for how to react and timetables for what and when to do it, take away the frisson of excitement and fluidity from a relationship/affair/interaction?
I used to be a hold out merchant and think people would respect me for it but ultimately what's the point. I respect who I am and I still respect a girl if she sleeps with me early on. I wouldn't just sleep with anyone but if I did fancy a girl then frankly I'd be chuffed that she found me sexy enough that she would want to sleep with me.
I may sound like a typical bloke but why does the sex part need to have so much weight and gravitas behind it. Can't two people just enjoy each others bodies without thinking 'right we have to step up to another level of commitment now that we've done this.'
I know people say 'oh this one could be special and possible partner material' but shag material is defined by what you are like in bed and girlfriend material is defined by what you are like in the head and neither are really determined by how soon you slept with that person. If I really liked a girl as a person then that would be the attraction to want them as a girlfriend.
The inability to find any decent erotic porn
In the old days (60'/70's) or at least with soft-core you got a little introduction to the setting, the situation and the characters. You had a chance to actually look at the female star when she still had her clothes on so that the anticipation of seeing her undressed could build. The scenes had a semblance of meaning behind them or at least a touch of realism that maybe that scene could happen to you.
Now though it seems to be nothing but immediate undressing, fake grunting, fake tits, continual money shots and looks to the camera, which I've never understood. If I'm watching porn I'm a voyeur, an observer and I don't want my presence or involvement to be acknowledged.
With the growth of Mike's apartment, Milf hunter, the Ben Dover series etc everything is done so cheaply. It's all shaky cam, chatting up a girl in a park and an audition like shag in a dirty bedroom. I'm not saying there should be Shakespearean scripts, plush sets, classical soundtracks and exquisite costumes. I just want some natural, arousing excitement.
Guys can pretty much bash their meat to QVC if they concentrated hard enough so what's the point in paying to be aroused if all you get is one unerotic, unemotional, biology class style scene after another. Put the sexiness back into porn and make it that by the time I decide to 'relieve' myself that it is genuinely hard from the scenes I'm watching rather than my over-active imagination.
People saying you shouldn't go near a married or coupled up man/woman
I love it when people say you shouldn't cheat with married or partnered people - why not? I'd personally never do it because I wouldn't want the responsibility of thinking did they leave that person for me or am I just an escape route but why should the single person always get the blame.
You don't know the reasons why someone is not happy with their partner. It isn't your responsibility to maintain their relationship or handle the feelings of the other partner. If you are single then the only person who should be feeling guilty is the person committing the infidelity. Harsh maybe but the soap opera histrionics of the so called 'wronged' partner are normally hiding the fact that they caused the other one to look elsewhere or they were just too goddam weak to resolve it.
Holding a baby
I'm not going all mushy and to be honest I've never had a great deal of time for other people's babies. They normally get shoved into your hand and either immediately starts screaming, are just plain annoying or you don't then see them again for another 5 years.
I've got a really good couple of friends who have recently had a baby and because of the distance when I go there I end up staying for a night or two. Because of this I manage to spend a little more time in the company of the little 'un and she in turn has a bit of time to learn to recognize my face for the duration of my stay.
I was over this weekend and I gotta say that she is (and I assume other babies could well be over time) enchanting. It sounds soppy but holding her while she fell asleep, yet still occasionally opened her eyes to make sure you were still there, was calming and humbling. In a way it makes you feel (well me anyway) so much better about yourself. That somehow maybe the baby can see your goodness and that her feeling safe enough to fall asleep in your arms is confirmation that maybe you aren't that bad.
I don't know, maybe it's their innocence or dependence on you for their protection but I feel almost a better, calmer person once I've spent time in her company.
All the things are not in place for me to feel I'm ready to offer a child a safe, comfortable upbringing and I've yet to find someone that I'd want to have and raise a child with yet but there is something special, and pleasantly surprising, about holding a baby.
Personality versus looks
Looks will always outweigh personality because that is the thing people will see first. You may have the best personality and be the funniest guy around but if you ain't good looking no one will give you the time of day to show how entertaining you can be.
I mean let's face it, you don't go into a club/bar etc, look for the ugliest, fattest girl and think wow I bet she has the greatest personality, I'll go and chat to her. There has to be some physical attraction to make you instigate the initial contact.
I think I'm quite good company. When women get talking to me they tell me I'm crazy and they've never met anyone like me and without being arrogant I think I am fun to be with. I know how to have a laugh at myself, dance, drink, flirt, etc but I rarely get the chance to prove this to a girl. I don't expect them to approach me but I won't steam in until I get the eyes, look or smile. I rarely seem to get this so assume that how I look must be a factor.
The whole getting to know them as friends doesn't work either because then when you make your move they say they don't want to lose you as a friend, basically meaning that they don't find you attractive.
Yes, the personality will help you maintain a relationship but it won't help you get one started. For that, and to get their initial attraction to see your stellar personality, you need the looks to hook them in. You can't always rely on the fantasy of being stranded on a desert island together (or locked in a supermarket which was a favourite of mine when younger) to make them get to know how wonderful you actually are.
Being told you're too fussy and are looking for the impossible
Yes I know I'd like to find someone but why shouldn't I be fussy. I mean if I don't fancy someone or they are just ok should I really say to myself 'well they are not quite right but I'm never going to get any better so they will make do'. It would break my heart if someone did that to me, that I was simply acceptable and nothing more, and thus I would never do it to someone else. Even worse though in accepting second best is that without realizing it you would always be looking for the BBD (bigger, better, deal).
Maybe I'm crazy for hoping to find that spark of excitement, that rush of affection, intimacy and connection but better that than dreaming of meeting someone who is plain average and we just 'get along'. If I ever find the one and god forbid marry them then on the day I want to know that I could and would never be able to find better. Not in some kind of ridiculous her being a like a movie actress but that I could not find someone who to me would be prettier, funnier or be so connected to me.
Kissably Close
I've not had many really romantic moments or times where things seemed to happen just right. Some girls I've tried hard with for nothing and some that I've got quite close to almost dating. There was one girl that I had a couple of nice moments with and did come kissably close to. Her name was Tracey (I won't give her surname) and she was very special.
It was about 12/13 years ago; I was working in the purchase ledger department of a firm of accountants at the time in the city and must have been about 22/23. I'd not had a girlfriend and was probably an over earnest geek (yeah like having your own website doesn't make you one!). While chasing invoices etc I got chatting to Tracey who worked for a company in Croydon. We seemed to get on really well on the phone and I really looked forward to talking to her although I did view making calls to her with nervous anticipation. I remember she sent me a light hearted questionnaire and I was so made up that somebody actually wanted to take an interest in me. She asked to see some photographs so I sent her seven. Sounds crazy but I wanted her to get a full indication of what I was like and also maybe make her laugh thus some of them were of me as a kid. I remember in the letter saying that I understood if she didn't find me attractive but if nothing else that she could return the photos. I heard nothing for two long weeks and thought with quiet resignation my looks strike again. And then she called. God I've never been happier, maybe she was bored but the knowledge that my appearance hadn't put her off and maybe she was interested in me felt just fantastic. I asked to see her photos and she promised to post them.
She had described what she was like but even so you can never be sure until the photos arrived. They came, she'd sent four, and she was truly beautiful. Long curly brown hair, big eyes, great complexion, nice body and a lovely face. My heart was skipping, maybe life was just and fair, because here was someone I would never have had the courage to talk to had I seen how pretty she was beforehand but now she knew me, had an insight into my personality and maybe I had a chance. I didn't phone her immediately, thinking maybe she could endure a little of what I had gone through and also because I wanted to tell her what I thought of her in a slightly special way. I got some flowers delivered to her office with the card simply saying 'you are beautiful'. We called and she seemed pleased and I agreed to take a day off work to go and see her during her lunch break.
Christ I was so nervous. I thought my driving test was bad, with my leg shaking so much I could hardly depress the clutch but this was way different. A gnawing hole growing ever larger in my stomach the closer I got to seeing her and endless debates of what to wear, what to say and what to do. When I met her at her office I was ready to run away if she even looked at me funnily and yet she seemed so calm and confident. I was desperately trying to conceal how big a deal this was for me and keep my feelings under check so I didn't scare her off but I'm not sure if it worked. Conversation on the phone felt natural but now face to face I was stilted, non flirtatious and lacking sparkle. It almost felt like I was ready for her to say at any moment 'no I'm sorry, this is ridiculous. I can't possibly consider a guy who has so obviously been out on a total of two or three dates in his life'. I walked her back to her office and just felt dejected. She was way out of my league and I couldn't possibly hope to keep someone like that entertained, let alone interested in me.
I called her the following week and we agreed to meet with both her mates and mine at the Venue in New Cross. Apparently she had a boyfriend but it wasn't going anywhere. The night came and we met in the club. I was racing backwards between her gang and mine desperately trying to get them closer and interacting both so that I could spend some time with her and also so that I could feel good that little old me had arranged a gaggle of girls for my mates to choose from. The night just wasn't gelling, I couldn't seem to find any magic with Tracey and the downers were coming in. One of her friends developed a mild asthma attack and I quickly volunteered to take her outside as I was almost glad to get away from the pressure of waiting for something to happen. We went outside and her friend calmed her breathing. It started light raining but I didn't care and her friend needed the air.
Once she was better and was breathing normally we went back in and to our respective groups. I never forget going up to one of my mates, G, who gave one of the best pieces of advice. There I was pretty much soaked through, hair plastered to my head and he said 'go to her, go to Tracey right now'. For once I listened and walked straight over. She looked at me and then threw her arms round me. God it felt so good, her curly hair smelt so clean and her body felt so warm pressed against me. I can remember that she was wearing jeans and this white shirt that was slightly frilly and over long in the arms. We started moving to the music but I can't tell you what was playing. Just holding her, and knowing that she wanted to be held, meant the world to me and I didn't want the night to end. I don't know how long it lasted, no where near long enough but eventually the lights came up and I think this is when we kissed. Needless to say with my limited experience I wasn't a good kisser then but I think muddled through. We moved outside whilst she and her friends waited for a cab and we continued to kiss.
I know this sounds like a normal night for most people ie kissing a member of the opposite sex in a drunken clinch but for me it wasn't. Never before had I been at a point where somebody I had desired actually fancied me in return and wanted me to hold and kiss them. It was a giddy head trip. She didn't want to take her arms from around my waist and told me what lovely big lips I had. This was especially poignant as I'd been teased at school, quite unfairly I thought, for being a 'rubber lipped bastard'. Her cab turned up and I waved her and her friends off. Needless to say that I was on cloud 9 for the journey home. The night couldn't have turned out better and I'd got the girl and she'd wanted me, even if it was just for that night. During the following week I sent her a box of toffee to say what a great time I'd had. It seems a lame gift but I thought it would be something different than flowers or chocolates. A few weeks passed and I got ready to leave my deptartment and move to another. On the last day I got drunk at lunch time and we spoke in the afternoon. I wasn't expecting anymore, mindful of her boyfriend and was almost ready to say my goodbyes when she asked for my home number which I readily gave. We spoke a few days later and she admitted that she'd split up from her boyfriend and I tentatively asked for a date.
She lived in Upper Norwood, which was about 15 miles away from where I lived in South East London and in my first car, silver triumph acclaim I drove over to collect her. Not knowing Upper Norwood we drove all the way down to Sevenoaks and took a walk around Knowle Park before having a cream tea in the town centre. We seemed to have a really good chat and a nice time and I hoped that I was doing something a little different from everyone else. We drove over to Thurrock and saw Forrest Gump. I'd seen it twice before but she never had and being one of my favourite films I hoped it would be something she would remember. We then drove all the way back home. I pulled up outside and had that dilemma of 'do I turn the engine off which signals I want something or respect her and keep the engine running which could be misconstrued as wanting to get rid of her' She thanked me for a lovely time and seemed to lean towards me. I lifted my head to softly kiss her forehead and I'll never forget her gently holding my chin and pulling it down so she could kiss me on the lips. Even writing it now it gives me goose bumps. Such a delicate, precious moment in time, knowing that even without the effects of alcohol she still wanted to kiss me. I'd have to say that even though this was wasn't the most passionate kiss, it was certainly the most memorable and tender kiss I've ever had. I practically floated home, warmed to my core of having had such a wonderful time in the company of somebody really special.
We talked some more but I don't know, I think my confidence kept failing me and the more into her I became the more weaker I felt. We agreed to meet again at the Venue and I thought maybe the magic could happen again. Our gangs were chatting again and the two of us talked but something was missing. At one point I saw her chatting to this guy and tried to think nothing more of it. I've never liked the idea of people getting jealous and embarrassing themselves over emotion so didn't think it was my place to say anything. I didn't own her. She came back over and said how he was an old school friend. We had some more drinks and we continued to dance and then she seemed to disappear. I carried on dancing with my mates and trying to enjoy myself but after half an hour my curiosity got the better of me and I had to go and find her. I remember walking down the stairs of the venue and just as I got near to the bottom seeing her with her arms around his neck, lips locked firmly together. I stopped in my tracks, I guess I'd expected it and didn't blame her. Hadn't I known that she didn't feel the same way about me as I did of her? I wanted to turn away but also part of me wanted to drink in the hurt so that I could use it later. With my parents having divorced (haven't so many others so I'm not trying to elicit sympathy) years earlier I was fine to bottle them all up and not display my pain. I took one last look feeling my heart shrivel like an empty paper bag before returning to my gang. I think we partied for another 20-30 minutes or so and then left. I don't think I saw her on the way out but if I did I tried to blank her. I don't think I ever spoke to her again. I sent her a Christmas card that Xmas but nothing else.
I don't blame her. There is no right and wrong in affairs of the heart and you can only go on what you feel. She did what was right for her and rightly so. I'm not the begging type and don't want to go in for the soap opera drama to let someone know they have hurt you. What I do remember her for though is the moment in the club and a wonderfully tender kiss. I'd be surprised if she remembers me but for those things I'll always remember her.
Another one that got away
There was one other girl that I really fancied and for this I will quote from my diary that I ran for about a year and was keeping at the time. I was 20 and it might be interesting to see if my style of writing has changed since then. I'll just quote what I think are the relevant bits in the diary. Her name was Sally and I met her on a Friday night after having been out on an after works drink. The first night was one of the best evenings I have ever had but is a great indicator of screwing up what could have been at least a date with a lovely girl and a further nail in the coffin of my piss poor efforts with girls. This could be boring for some but may provide some light entertainment for the process of me falling for someone and then sodding it up.
Friday 13th (not always unlucky) March - "As the train weaved home I overheard a number of girls chatting to this PTi instructor from the army. Normally I would be very shy but probably due to the atmosphere in the Minories and alchohol I'd consumed I was cursing my luck at not getting in at the next door. This bloke got off and they began to look for a new target. They ascertained I was male and then all piled round. I was in fine form, introducing myself, commenting on their perfume, telling them what I'd overheard. It came up to my stop and Sally the loveliest and whose birthday it was that day asked to try on my coat. I said this was my stop and then said 'sod it, I'll walk back from the next station' We all disembarked at the next stop, Me, Sally, Jane, Juliet, Jane and Petra, one of the girls mentioned a local club, I ummed and ahhed about it and before I could say anymore they'd all got in a cab.
I began to walk home and had got about half a mile away when I thought 'Hell they were nice, they probably will go to that club and I might aswell go' Thus I turned around and headed back to the club. Bumped into Jane and can't remember who else while going to the cashbase. She seemed pleased to see me, gave me a nice hug and I thought this could be good. Went inside and met the others. Bought drinks for everyone, chatted, found out their life history. Found myself very attracted to Sally who really is very attractive. Blue eyes, tumbling soft blonde hair, lovely white teeth, smooth skin, a great body, lovely smile, nice personality and due to her doing A'levels in English Lit and something else, very intelligent.
Did a lot of dancing, one memorable bit was dancing with Sally in front of the mirrors. Sally bought me a drink aswell as giving me a kiss earlier on for a drink I bought for her. The time flew by and soon it was the slow dance section. Sally started to dance with another man. I was jealous I admit but there again I wouldn't have asked her for a dance anyway as it would have runied the relationship that I think I was creating. The other Jane, the one who looks like Geena Davis, asked what was wrong as I kept muttering I can't understand women and probably looked pretty dejected. I can't remember what I exactly said but I think she asked who I was interested in to which I didn't reply. The Jane I was talking to then asked if I wanted to dance. Not wanting to say no and hurt her I agreed. It was nice, letting the music take over, unfortunately one feels very clumsy when trying to move one's feet slowly in a circular motion. Didn't indulge in any kissing for which I apologised when we came off saying that it wasn't my style. Then Sally came over saying 'why didn't you rescue me..' or something similar '..from that creep'. To this I replied with open mouth and spluttered out 'you're out of my class and league and why didn't you tell me' She did ask me to help her over to the cloak room as her shoes were hurting her. She wore my coat downstairs and I thanked Sally and Jane for a wonderful night and asked them to pass the message onto the others. I then walked home feeling extremely chuffed. If I never see them again it's nice to know that I hope they'll think of me as a nice bloke"
Saturday 14th March - " Still find it hard to believe that I gayly chatted away with five lovely girls whom I'd never met before. Found myself thinking a lot about Sally. Mike said he would so after checking out his new keyboard we mossied down to the club again. I didn't really know what to expect. Jane asked me along but I was worried that the others would be fed up with me. It was silly and childish but I became very jealous when I would see Sally talking to other men and I would think what have they got that I haven't. Chatted to the others, bought them drinks. Asked about Jane's new car, Sally's aching feet and Juliets sore throat. Gave Sally a birthday card for which I received a pleasant kiss.
Midway during the evening became a bit depressed and drank probably too much. I was probably expecting too much, hell I always do. Of course another thing was that tonight there was a hell of a lot more people thus they had more people to chat with. Decided at 12.30 to sod them and dance the night away. Jane then bought me a drink and I got to dance next to the lovely Sally. It's funny when I try, things fuck up, when I don't the position improves. The only slow song came on at the end. I dithered and none of the girls danced with anyone, but had I gone and asked Sally to dance it would have upset Jane I think. And had she said No they would all know that I fancy Sally, that is if they don't know already. Left after that, said goodbye to Jane, unfortunately didn't see any of the others to say goodbye to them. My paranoia says this was deliberate on their part. came home and hit the bed while mulling over my lack of attractiveness. I can't help worrying that they are only being nice to me because I've been nice to them"
Sunday 15th March - "Couldn't get Sally out of my head. God she's lovely but out of my class. My jealousy yesterday was stupid, I really must control it. I'll probably go this Friday and just try and stay friends. If I can just talk to Sally, see her smile, dance with her and just let her know and remember me then who knows, feelings may grow. But then again if I ever did get to date her what could I offer. Could I drive her anywhere. Thurrock I think not"
Monday 16th March - "Seeing everthing today through rose tinted glasses. It's overclouded but I see sun. As usual my over active imagination is building wonderful scenarioes for Sally & I. I can't stop thinking of her and I seem to spend my nights listening to the radio to hear love songs. I know whats going to happen, like so many times before I'm going to build it into some sort of beautiful love thing, and then be devastated when it just all crumbles. I just can't imagine her giving me one moment of thought. I know why I'm doing it though. It's because in this mood I'm happy, I have something to live for and I don't yet have to face the reality of No. Women are wonderful creatures. I love everything about them, every thought, every kind of makeup they put on but they seriously can fuck you up"
Tuesday 17th March - "Became a bit depressed today due to thinking about lack of money in regard to buying a car. Then about which car. Then about the fact that I've got 2 A'levels, am reasonably bright but am a shit-sucking filing clerk and finally that I'm like a lamb to the slaughter with Sally on Friday. I'm not sure what I'm expecting but I know I'm making it out to be some big fateful love thing and that I'm going to be so hurt. But then I think it makes you feel good, go with the flow. Of course then I realise I'm not exactly attractive or have anything to offer whereas Sally is gorgeous, bubbly, kind, polite and lovely and thus is likely to have the attentions of so many boys, of whom she could choose the best, that she wouldn't even give me a second thought. Of course my problem is that to them it's either them being kind or just putting up with me whereas to me it's an opening to that fantasy world I want to live in of wonderful love, of caring and sharing and where people understand, let alone notice my sincere feelings. I keep thinking I'm so great because I respect women and love everything they do but do they know this, No. Are they attracted by this, No. They want men, men who have no respect, no feelings and are only in it for the shag."
Wednesday 18th March - "Listened to M's love tape, brilliant couldn't stop humming the songs and dreaming of gently kissing Sally on the forehead on the dance floor"
Thursday 19th March - "I'll probably go, I must confess to really wanting to see Sally again. Who knows I might even get a dance with my 'so Sally, what will it be? a drink or a dance' line."
Saturday 21st March - "Carla phoned back and said they'd give it a miss. I asked her about her good word to which she replied she'd instructed Jane (Geena Davies) to tell Sally 'That I fancied her'. Very romantic! Now when I go back to T's everyone will know including Sally and the nicer Jane. It's difficult because Jane is very nice and if anything more normal, reliable and probably an excellent candidate for a first relationship. Sally on the other side is more attractive but possibly more unstable. What I'm trying to say is she is more likely to find another man and I am more likely to get hurt."
Tuesday 24th March - "Thinking perhaps it may have been a mistake letting Sally know my feelings especially, as it dawned on me today , the girl telling her 'I fancy her' is her bloody sister. It's funny but I feel let down by Carla, telling someone you fancy them is not exactly putting in a good word for you. I feel a fool and that I have really fucked things up. If I see her on Friday I'll just have to push to the back of my mind the fact that she knows 'I fancy her' (such an ugly descriptive) and that I know she knows. Also it increases the pressure on me in an area of which I am very uncertain"
Thursday 26th March - "With Friday night fast approaching needless to say whom my thoughts are with. At the beginning of the week I feel fine, thinking things are great and I stand a chance, the closer it gets the more I realise she's out of my class and to get her I should be brash and bold and not care much for her. With my unending devotion I must be pretty boring unlike a man whose attentions she really has to fight for. Of course the pressure from all the mates is there. With G saying 'just come out and say it' and M suggesting I do something before I get more hurt. Needless to say one wonders what tomorrows entry will say. I must also remember the lesson from two Saturdays ago and not get stupidly jealous or depressed when she talks to other men."
Friday 27th March - "M bumped into a work colleague, we drank more cider and the girls arrived, Jane, Carla and Jane. I practically immediately asked Carla where Sally was. Had no money and was revising her mocks came the reply. To which I immediately replied 'is that true or is it because of me?' Carla said no so I asked Jane, her sister to find out more info. She then said 'You've got the hots for my sister' to which I replied ' I'm just interested in her mind'. We danced, I got more drunk, played with their hair and bought them drinks. Jane asked me along to her brothers 16th birthday celebration on Saturday at T's and said Sally would be there. I'll probably go and if Sally isn't there, or her reaction if she is there isn't favourable, then I will have to close that chapter. By now she must be getting feedback from everyone on my feelings towards her and I'll have to see from her reaction on saturday whether to move or not. She is lovely from my memories but how long can I go on longing and allowing my generosity to blow wads of cash. Dating her could be expensive, it would be an incentive to buy a car but I could see myself seriously broke every month."
Saturday 4th April - "Had tea and then spent the next three hours deciding whether or not to go. The girls were going to celebrate Jane's brothers 16th birthday so it was highly likely they might not get in. N & M couldn't make it and thus I was on my own. I shaved, had a bath and even up to 10.15 was un-decided. What tipped it was if I went at least I would know and would never have to think if only I'd gone. Trotted down there, got a pint of cider and waited. Mark S saw me and came over, never have I been so happy to see him. Just having someone to talk to if the girls didn't arrive. Mark's girlfriend told me Paul G had arrived and I wandered over to say hi.
Jane & Jane walked past while I talked to Paul. Naturally they said hello with a hug and I said I'd be over in a minute. I finished with Paul and walked over to the girls, got introduced to Jane's brother and then noticed Sally on the dance floor. I said to her sister Jane 'did I just see Sally on the dance floor' Yes she replied. Again not wanting to hassle her I waited for her to come off and then said hi. She gave me a beaming smile and a hug and we had a quick chat. I told her I'd missed her and said I was sorry to hear about her driving test. Also said hi to Juliet and Carla and then proceeded to get them all a drink. Handed everyone their drinks including Sally who was chatting to some bloke and after downing mine hit the dance floor. While there thought well I've seen her, there was no great ceremony, this will be the last chapter and I'll just dance the night away. Came off to get a drink later on and met Paul at the bar who got me one. Turned round to see Sally who I started chatting about her mocks etc. She apologised for her lack of makeup to which I replied you don't need it and we moved onto why she hadn't been down here for the last of couple of weekends. I got her a drink while she said it was down to lack of money. I replied don't worry I'll pay for you to get in, it would be worth it. She then said well give us your phone number and when I'm a bit short I can give you a call and you can pay for me to get in. Naturally I gave it to her and when she wandered off gave a big smile to myself and felt chuffed.
Moved to the dance floor with Paul, whom I had introduced to Sally and began to dance when on it. Asked Paul what he thought of her 'A1' was his reply. Carried on dancing when I saw Sally making her way through the crowd. Every man she passed seemed to grab her and dance with her such is her attraction. She eventually reached me, flung her arms around me and her body right up close and said something like 'thank god you're here'. Up to and including this were the best bits then things began to go downhill. A slowish reggae type song (buffalo soldier I think) came on and she came up close. I didn't know whether we were supposed to move togther or in opposite directions. She asked which way? I said I don't know and she moved away. I didn't want to be always following her thus I let Sally slowly drift off while dancing. Well she's her own person, she can go where she wants without me endlessly in tow. I don't own her. Unfortunately though she drifted off towards the company of Paul M and Darren N and co.
The fast dancing returned and I moved towards her , guarding my handkerchief in my top pocket as Paul M seemed intent on pulling it out. Sally moved her shoulder up against me in time with the music but as usual I wasn't in time and thus it didn't work. Carried on dancing alone until the slow ones came on. Crazy for you by Madonna was playing and I left the dance floor looking for Sally. I spotted her talking to PM and DN and thought fuck, is she talking to them for a reason ie wanting a dance. If not have I the courage to walk over and interrupt them and take her away, assuming she says yes. But then what would the other two think or more importantly do. Had she been alone or talking to the girls it would have been different but how do I know that she isn't talking to a certain guy when the slow ones come on for a certain reason. Needless to say DN took her on the dance floor minutes later and with all the girls on the dance floor I thought it time to do the off. I should have stayed and thanked Jane for asking me along, that was bad manners but it would have hurt too much seeing DN and Sally walk off the dance floor together.
It's funny before I went to T's I began to think I could accept no more Sally but seeing her again, for the time being anyway has got everything flowing again. I suppose it's wrong but I need her to come to me so that I'm sure thats what she wants. I see her put on so many happy faces with other men and then come over to me and go 'oh my god' that I'm worried that it would be just a show for me if I was doing the pushing. I realise that it probably needs a little pushing and that I should be doing it but my lack of self confidence keeps saying 'she's out of your league, you're nice but so innocent you wouldn't know the signs if she painted them on a sign and held them in front of you. Walked home very slowly, very down and very tired. Well the ball's in her court. She asked for my phone number, if she wants me she can just call me. Whether she wants me or my money at this stage it doesn't matter to me. I don't know by next Friday I may be dying to go there again but it's not so good when she's not there. No matter how bad I feel afterwards when she is there in T's it is always exciting. Perhaps I might give them a couple of weeks without me. Oh well there you are. You decide whether it was a good night or not. I will admit I did enjoy myself and I'm glad I went but well I don't know. She's got my phone number it's probably been lost or thrown away but you dont' know she might have kept it. We will have to see won't we."
Sunday 5th April - "You see some times I'll think I'm doing really well and Sally likes me but then I think well perhaps she's like that with every man. Perhaps if she rings me I'll know I must be doing something right. Perhaps next weekend I'll go home after the night at Coates and give the likely venue T's a miss. Then if Sally doesn't call on Saturday I'll hit T's on Good Friday. Of course I say that now but will I be able to say No on friday night. Perhaps it's all just a hopeless crush but I'm hoping beyond hope that she's noticing that I'm a different kind of bloke and maybe thus a bit special."
Monday 6th April - "Realised that I'd been a complete wanker on saturday night and had not done well. Ok she has my phone number but the possibility that she might phone me is all fantasy and I must admit it. I should have waited after the slow dance, seen her reaction when she came off the dance floor and politely said good night and don't forget to call. The way I've done it she could well be put out by my inpoliteness and thus not bother."
Tuesday 7th April - "Told mum about saturday night and prepared her on what to say if Sally phoned on Friday which is a waste of time because deep down I know she won't. Of course another reason why one is hesitant to make a move is because it seems she regards me as like a safe bloke. Like on the first night 'why didn't you rescue me' and on saturday with 'thank god you're here' She might think I'm pretty nice because I'm not only interested in getting in her knickers. Thus when I make a move this image is destroyed. But if I do it with feeling & consideration this may help. I've decided that since I screwed up on saturday if I get the chance again I must go hell for leather and ask her out. Say up London, where I'm in my element. We could do some window shopping, I could show her Mrs Field's cookie shop, buy her some white musk, grab a pizza, perhaps catch a movie, then come home, hit T's and get a slow dance. Oh what a fantasy land I live in. But at least now I'm imagining taking her out and that it could be possible, which is something I was not doing before"
Wednesday 8th April - "Spent the afternoon mulling over whether I should spend about £50 on Obsession for men. I think in the likely event that I don't hear from Sally I will console myself with it and thus not go out the following weekend. Still thinking that it would be nice to take Sally up to London and window shop. To wander around horse guards parade and through St James Park but am unsure whether she's a wandering type"
Sunday 12th April - "Needless to say Sally has not phoned this weekend and now I must decide what to do. I really like her, her presence excites me and nights at T's with her are great even if I do became jealous. Even without her I do like the other girls and usually have a great time down there. Now to go back as if nothing's happened or wait at least until the beginning of next month when I'l have some money. I don't really want to go if Sally's not going to be there but if she is there what do I say and do. Will the other girls think I'm snubbing them by not going for a couple of weekends. Before I felt I had a serious goal to aim for and thus was eager to go. Now I can't help thinking that the goal is no longer there or if it is it's a hell of a lot harder to obtain. It's funny before last saturday I was thinking at least I'll know and if it's no go then it's no go. But now there seems to be no pazzaz in one's life, no uncertainty to look forward to, no one to dream of. I know that there are more fish in the sea but this girl gave my weekends that possible shine. The feeling, when I was with them and especially her, that shit they liked me for me being me. I know I'm going too deep and that by next weekend my views may have changed but what the hell are you here for if not for letting me write down my deepest feelings."
Monday 13th April - "Seeing her at T's is something that could still take place though it doesn't seem to have the certainty ring about it. A couple of weeks ago I would definately go on my own if I had to see them but now I'm unsure. I definately want to see her but inside feel that things will be different. If I get another chance I'll enjoy her company and then just come out and say it. I'll convince myself before going that it would be the last time I'd go for them and thus would have nothing to lose. I'd just tell her that I'm attracted to her and why, tell her that I'd like to spend some time alone getting to know her and talk to her. Then leave it that she can call me if she's interested and not to if not, then just mosey off."
Saturday 2nd May - "Watched the end of K-9, washed my hair, ironed my top and went to T's. Bought myself a drink and began to watch T2 on the screens in there. Wandered around and saw the girls coming down the steps from the toilet. Carla spotted me and smiled then Sally said Hi and cuddled me, then Jane her sister and then the other Jane. They all seemed pleased to see me, as I was of them and we moved back to the regular location. Bought them drinks, chatted away, they all looked more attractive than how I remembered them, especially Sally. Was very touched by Sally trying to buy me a drink. I intervened at the bar, paying for mine and buying her one. I told her that the fact she wanted to buy me a drink was enough for me.
Salt n Pepas Push it came on later and Sally came onto the dance floor saying 'Lets get dirty' to which I replied 'it's not my style'. Later on some girls seemed to be having a go at Jane and Sally rallied to her defense. I steered clear and waited it out. Sally came up to me sometime after, and this is the gift she has to make me feel so excited, good and a well like a man, rested her head on my shoulder. It was nothing special to look at but it felt so damned good. She is such an amazing creature. So beautiful, kind, polite, fun loving and able to make me just in her presence feel so good. All I want to do is just put my arms around her and hold her tight, especially when she rests her head on my shoulder and tells me all the arguing is over. I suppose it felt good because it was like she had an argument and then went to someone safe and reliable after it was over. The 'erection section' came on, I sat aside due to the girls moving off somewhere. We left and I gave Sally her card and she asked me to come down next Saturday so she could buy me a drink. I said 'what a date with five babe's' and she replied 'yeah a date with five hot chicks'. I said yes, told them all to take care and cleared off."
Saturday 9th May - "Went up to M's and we headed off to the club. Saw the girls in front of us while we waited to get in. They mossied off inside and I thought it best M and I get our drinks and wait for the girls to come over. They did but also just as Paul G came over. This made it difficult because you couldn't say hello to them both. Chatted to Paul and then said Hi to the girls when he went away. Started drinking and chatting and decided to introduce the girls to the pleasures of Chartreuse. Got one for Sally, her sister and Tracy. They downed them, then got Jane one and then Juliet. Plenty of laughing by all and felt good with them all around us. Got Sally and Jane another and they persuaded myself and M to have one. We did, it goes down strong and gives you napalm breath for the next 15 seconds. M and I shared another as did Tracy, Sally and Jane. Drank more, danced a bit more. The drink got to me and I became very generous. Finishing all the cash I had on me, about £55, the last two rounds I bought didn't even include a drink for myself. At this point Jane and Sally were admitting to being very hammered.
The slow ones came on and I came back to the chair. Sally had already gone and while M got off with Tracy on the dance floor I got pissed off. Went outside with Jane and Carla. Waited outside for M and looked around to see Sally in a passionate embrace with some bloke. I was gobsmacked, unable to stop staring with my jaw on the floor. She was getting off with some ugly knob who she'd only just met. Hell does that bloke think of her, care for her, talk to her, buy her drinks No! Just asks for a dance and then pushes her for snogging when she's drunk on my cash. All the others said I had to be quicker but god is she some sort of property that I have to get in quickly with a deposit for. You read papers, watch shows and females say they want to be treated properly, as human beings not items with respect. What a bummer, talk about be used or what. Ok perhaps I am too slow but being fast and pushy is not my style and if I did do it and it didn't work I'd look and feel very foolish. It just amazes me that with girls there's no reward for being respectful, kind and nice, none at all."
Monday 11th May - "Have been pretty complacent today. I still find it hard to picture Sally getting off with that bloke. What amazes me and here I show my old fashion-ness is that it could not have meant anything to them. They'd only known each other about 10 minutes and here they were passionately entwined. How can it mean anything. One got the impression it was a form of showing off to themselves and to their friends. I can't help it but when that happens to me I want it to mean something. This is probably a silly attitude because when it does come along I'll be so inexperienced that I'll miss any meaning in it altogether"
Saturday 13th June - "Erection section came on, I sat out, contemplated asking Sally and thought against it. Must confess though that my heart really wasn't in it. She came off, told me she was drunk, I said give me a call if her and Tracy got bored while the others went on holiday. I then asked Jane her sister what Sally said when she opened my card. Jane told me that she wasn't interested and just wanted to be friends. I said thanks and walking home M informed me that he'd found out the same via Tracy which was nice, nice that he bothered to consider me I mean. It hurts but it's best to know where I stand. All of my pretty posturing that I'll save myself for that special girl and not lower my standards mean that I have absolutely no experience whatsoever and thus will never be able to attain that dream girl if I ever found her. I won't know what the fuck to do. This means that if I ever meet Mrs Right it won't be at a nightclub but somewhere I can get to know her and her me nice and and slowly.
I did say at the beginning that she was just out of my class didn't I. She's very attractive with a great figure and smile and able to get on with any man and here I am too generous for my own good, not hard enough, prepared to take things too slowly, not pick up on chances when they're dangled in front of me and of course, the biggest problem that I'm just not attractive. Ok I've got decent eyes but a shitty nose and arse sucking hair. Why Sally couldn't have seen me when my hair was nice and short instead of how it is now. Oh well c'est la vie but I did manage to get hold of her lipstick to remind me of her. I didn't steal it I just didn't get a chance to return it"
Sunday 12th June - "Came to bed feeling mellow but not as heartbroken as one might expect. I think over the months I'd grown hardened. I looked forward to seeing her and the girls again but had not been thinkign about her at work at all. Hell I might look back on it as a handy lesson."
Saturday 27th June - "Dropping off N, his cousin and A at T's while myself, G and M returned home to change and catch a taxi to T's. Had a first drink and was feeling in a brilliant mood as was N. The atmosphere of a boys night out is great. We moved over to the corner and I introduced everyone to the girls and vice versa. We bought six chartreuses's and put them away. I chatted to Sally as naturally her magnetism reeled me in like a fish. Talked about her exams and then moved onto the dance floor with N. They played some great music for about 3/4 of an hour and myself and N burnt the dance floor up. Came off the dance floor and tickled Sally. We spoke some more and I think Jane must have told her that she had told me that Sally just wanted to be friends because sally suddenly said 'you know were great mates aren't we', 'Yes' I replied thinking if thats the way you want it sally love that's fine with me. Tracy was after M and and Sally did her best to get them together. After completing this I pulled Sally aside and said 'come on Sally, you wouldn't have liked it if someone had done that to you and me'. We smiled and I turned away, she pulled me back and said 'I like you so much I wouldn't want to hurt you' I said thanks for the compliment to which she replied its the best compliment you could get'.
We talked more, I read her palm, kissed her hand and her forehead on discovering that she had in fact passed her driving test. Danced the remainder of the night away and came off during the love zone. Went outside and waited for the other. Sally came out, saw me and put her arm around my waist and I held her while she swayed. What a lovely feeling. G dragged ger off to start talking about me. We all eventually said our goodbyes and G told me what he'd found out. As I knew she had gotten to like me too much as a friend and the window of opportunity had passed. As G said, when I see a girl on the first night, wham bam, I should got for it. But unfortunately I'm not a one night stand person and concerning these girls and Sally on the first night I wanted them to know that I was a nice bloke and not one who only bought them drinks to gain access to their knickers. They do always say that you should be friends first and lovers second but of course we know in the real world that isn't true, just like the phalacy that women like nice men. Walked home mulling over the fact that every girl wants to be my friend but nothing more."
Well there you have it. Sorry if that was tedious and rambling but at least it showed, in too much detail many will cry, the path of my attraction for Sally. She was a lovely girl and bar Tracy, I've not met anyone else yet to top how special she was. I would have liked to try to contact her when I eventually got a little more confidence but besides knowing her date of birth and first name I knew nothing else. Probably a good job for her!
It's naturally frustrating now I have a bit more confidence and the where with all to deal with women when I read some of the chances that I blew with her. I think the first nail was when I saw her kissing that guy and you can tell by the less frequent entries in my diary about her. The natural defence barrier came up and began to close around my heart so by the time I was told she wanted nothing more than friendship I was already in remission, though still desperate for a sudden change of mind.
I don't blame her, I mean no girl is going to beg for attention and I'm not even arrogantly saying that she ever fancied me but there were times when I think I could and should have pushed a little harder or jumped at the chinks of hope that she gave me. My downfall was a basic lack of confidence and a ridiculous notion that it was more important for them to like me and realise I was a lot more different to other guys that they might have met before. Noble ideas maybe, but completely irrelevant when you are a young men desperately looking for some female affection.
Some may think I'm living in the past recounting the tales of Tracy and Sally but both were special and memorable and it was good to get them down. I guess most people would like to hope they have had an impact on others in their life. Naturally other people have had an impact on my life, and still are now, but I hope it would at least please them to know that in some way they made a 20 year old guy very happy and gave him a taste, albeit a brief one, of finding someone special.~