Monday, 28 December 2009

Marked Change

So, ths blog has been running for over two years, and so it's time for a change. I think we've all had enough of slightly perverted, peurile humour, and so it's out with that. In 2010 it's all going to be deadly serious, and...

...I'm sorry, I've just come.

Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. 2010 is going to be a very important year for me because not only do I qualify in a few months, I'll inevitably be moving onto pastures new in lots of ways - hopefully moving into a new place, at least! - and I need a more refreshed attitude. So, accordingly, I'm going to take a more highbrow approach to these...

...I'm sorry, I've just come again. Give me a second, will you?

Right, that's that cleaned up. So... starting in 2010, this blog will take sex as the serious, no-nonsense business it is. There will be no frivolity or frills as I grow up into a mature, well-balanced person. No jokes, no laughs, no snark, and most certainly no irrelevant tangents...

...Ooh! That one nearly blew my socks off!

So I hope you will all appreciate my new, much more strait-laced attitude towards the grim fandango that is life in 2010.

Tuesday, 22 December 2009

FAQ III

It's now one year (well, one year and a day) since I started this blog, so watch as I casually cut-and-paste the FAQ and fuck about with the answers for a bit. Enjoy, won't you?

Oh, and the original FAQ is here, and last year's redraft is here.


STARTING QUESTIONS

Who are you?
I am Innocent Loverboy, commonly known as ILB. I write a sex blog as well as doing other things, none of which are particularly interesting, but never mind.

Age / Sex / Location?
24 years old / Male / London.

And what's with the love status?
In a relationship with The Drinker, (also TD) formerly The Oxford Seamstress, known by other names to me, one of which is 'kitty'. We've been together now for over a year and a half, since 11 May 2008. My gosh, doesn't time fly?

What's your main job? And what's hers?
I was a teaching assistant for two years, and since then I've switched. I'm actually in training at the moment, so I go to University (one of the colleges of the University of London, but I won't say which) for a vocational course, but I spend most of my time 'on the job' while learning the skills. I'll qualify this academic year... and yes, sexual knowledge helps in this job! It's not hard to work out, really.
TD is also at a University doing a postgraduate course, although her aim is to continue on and do a PhD and become an academic. I am jealous and slightly amazed at her commitment. And interestingly, we are both English graduates first time around. Hooray for the recession and everyone going back to Uni!



BLOG QUESTIONS

What's this blog for?
It's still a sex blog, despite what else you may find here. You'll find reviews of sex products as well as posts about actual sex, my addiction posts, wistful ramblings and other stuff about life, love, the universe and coffee. Except maybe not coffee.
I don't generally write about my life, as such. There are places for that stuff, such as my LiveJournal, and this isn't one of them. This is a much more interesting blog.


When and why did you create it?
Exactly two years ago - 21 December 2007.
I'd been reading sex blogs for ages, and very few were written by boys. There are now a few more that I'm aware of - Todger Talk and The Edge of Vanilla are examples - but most of them, and especially the more famous ones, were written by girls - the Channel 4 documentary only ever mentioned the girl sex bloggers! In my personal blog, I'd mentioned love and sex a few times, but I wanted to muse more upon the topics than I did, so I started a more anonymous way of conveying my thoughts - thus, ILB.
There's a post about it here.

And what's with the blog subtitle? Why do you keep changing it?
Because it's funny. Do you have a problem with that? I like to change it once every couple of months. For the first two days, this blog had my profile as its subtitle, and that just looked ugly, so I made it prettier. And, frankly, shorter.

You still clam you're different. What makes you so different?
There are, again, a number of reasons for this:
(i) I place much more value on love then sex. I'm not saying that other people don't (by all accounts, other people should), but to me, love is vital - sex, while fantastic, can only be a side-effect of love. I can both merge and separate the two very quickly. I can also fall in love very easily.
(ii) I'll admit that sex happens for other reasons than love - I've experienced that myself - but I prefer to link the two.
(iii) I like softcore erotica. I don't like hardcore porn nearly as much.
(iv) I'm genuine and honest. I don't smoke, drink, do drugs or even eat meat. And it's not all a facade, that's just who I am.
(v) I'm incredibly shy to ask people out. In fact, I don't ask people out. I have such a morbid fear of rejection that I don't even try. The two relationships I've had have been more luck than effort - in fact, I think they just 'happened'.
(vi) Despite my inner shyness, I'm quite an outgoing person. But it's mostly false bravado. Covering up the shivering wreck I really am does help somewhat.
Basically, I'm not your typical 'lad'. Not trying to stereotype boys, of course, but the unfair image that has been applied to them definitely doesn't apply to me. I don't even like sports of any kind! In real life, the idea that 'boys only want one thing' isn't true. In fact, in many cases they can be much more romantic than girls... and I'll prove that to you. Ha!


Why are you using Blogger?
A lot of sex journals are written in Blogger. There are better blog services out there, such as LiveJournal. However, places like LJ (and I already have an LJ, anyway) are much more personal-based and it may not be very prudent to start a blog there if I wish to remain anonymous! Also, quality of blog service doesn't equal quality of blog! There are sex blogs on LJ that are truly atrocious!
I don't mean to diminish other blog services such as WordPress, either - my sister and some of my friends use it; I just don't like its control panel's layout much. Mind you, Blogger isn't much better. It took me ages to format this post correctly!


And you've written a book?
Well, it's not exactly a book unless you count self-published things as 'books', but for the sake of my own vast ego, then yes, I have written a book. The first print run I did via University photocopiers had some rather dodgy page alignments and picture qualities, so I'm working on another print run at the moment. The content's exactly the same, though. You can find more details here.

Sounds great! Where do I get it?
Well, if you have PayPal you can buy it online (ink, paper and postage don't come free, alas) from its minisite here. Yes, I did the site myself. You can probably tell. It costs £3 in GBP, plus 50p postage. You can order from abroad if you want.

What else do you write?
Songs (I'm the lead singer of a band and I love it; although we are kind of inactive we're aiming for our second single next year), poetry, reviews (mostly of games) and fiction. Through university (first time around), I was a staff member of the paper, and when I was young I ran my own self-produced journal! I was so enterprising back then. It's unlikely that you'll have come across anything else I'll have written online, but it may happen. It won't be labelled as ILB, though, so don't go nuts looking or anything.

Who did the buttons on your sidebar? Who drew the FAQ girl, for example?
Me, of course. Interestingly, the FAQ girl is a drawing I did years ago of a friend called Anna, at a time when she was very confused. I thought it'd be perfect for a link to a load of questions!
All the other buttons are 86x45 pixels, and all made by me, excepting the NaBloPoMo awards, which are made by them with me adding the month below in coloured text.


What do you think is the best post you've written?
Ah, now this is a difficult one! It's pretty much impossible to choose. Here's an idea: you read the whole blog, and then you tell me!

What's with the blogroll? Heroes? Villains? Excuse me?
Okay, well, this was an attempt to make my blogroll more interesting. If you're a villain it doesn't mean I don't like your blog, of course. Just clearing that one up.
Heroes are bloggers who keep their blog updated. These are the ones I check and read every day because they're either likely or semi-likely to have something new to read. Villains are blogs whose authors have stopped writing them, or have gone on hiatus, or simply disappeared. They're worth reading in archived form but aren't worth a check every day. If they start updating them again they become a Hero.
Unaligned blogs are blogs that aren't really about sex. I am well aware Chelsea is in this category, but as I'm unsure about whether that's a sex blog or not, I think it's fine where it is anyway. These are just reminders that the wider world isn't full of smut. Well, not if you look carefully anyway.


PEOPLE, LOVE, AND SEX

How many people have you had sex with?
I have had sex with six people: Rebecca (my first girlfriend who left for another man), Louise (an oversexed friend of mine who I still talk to occasionally), Alicia (an older woman who I had friendly sex with), Lily (my only one-time stand, not at night, who was not nice), snowdrop (a friend, but this is complicated) and, of course, TD. They're all fine, last I heard, although I haven't seen a few of them for ages. I met all of them on the internet, funnily enough.


When did you last have sex?
A few days ago - three? Two? Last time TD was here, anyway.

How often do you have sex?
Well, I can't really say that it's a planned thing, but it tends to happen pretty much once or twice every day we are together, unless it's a flying visit. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It depends on the feeling, y'know? And then there are those times where you don't have the sex, but the effects are felt...

Who are the people mentioned on this blog?
Okay, well, what a question! Single Student has a list on her blog's menu which links to the appropriate people, which is helpful, but since it's a private blog, I doubt anyone else can read that! I may as well list people here - and there have been a few changes since last time.

The main players on this stage are:
- ILB: Innocent Loverboy, a sensitive and engaging boy with a rapier wit and a big head.
- The Drinker: A lovely girl who happens to be my girlfriend and also writes a blog.
- All other sex bloggers are referred to by their blogging name.

The people who know I am ILB are:
- H: Is my best female friend. She makes me feel relaxed, which isn't easy. I don't see her as often as I used to, but she lives in London so she's always close by.
- 47: Is my best male friend. He's one of the very few people who knows I am also ILB, and he's clever enough to have worked it out himself. His friendship is an acquired taste, but I can tolerate him, mostly because he's stuck with me through some very tough times, and I'm reciprocating.
- Mini: Is a close friend who I don't see nearly enough, and I told her I am ILB. She's cool with that. She's also the shortest person of my age that I know, being roughly the same size as my 13-year-old cousin.
- Syren: I hold this young lady very close to my heart, although the only time I did that physically, she fell asleep. Hmmm. She's impossible to describe, but I used the word 'delicate' while talking to Knightmare Winner last night and mentioned her, so I'll go with that.

The other people who may get a mention are:
- Robinson: Is my oldest friend. I've known him since we were about 3. We grew up in the same school, both went to The Woodcraft Folk, and still meet up (with other Woodies) every week to go to the pub. I don't even like pubs, which shows my dedication to these guys.
- Hairy Friend: Matches me in the facial hair stakes, only in his case, he's trying to grow a beard. I'm just lazy. He's the second-most sexually active of my friends, after me. And he's a riot, too.
- TD's friends: Are mentioned on her blog, usually by single initials. Should I ever need to mention them, I'll use the same system (although I only ever think I've mentioned N thus far - feel free to prove me wrong, though...)
- University and job people: Eh, I may make up names for these if I ever mention any of them.
- Knightmare Winner: This one's a bit of a no-brainer. You could whittle this down to one of a few different names, but why the hell would you do that?

Will you go out with me? / Will you sleep with me?
This question is a little redundant, since I'm in a relationship, so I'm guessing that if you're asking this, you're either a bot, a webcam girl, or a scam girl. I've got strategies for dealing with all of these, and they usually involve creative use of MSN's "Block" button.

Can I talk to you? / Can I ask for advice?
Since I started writing ILB, I've actually counselled a few friends of mine (mostly female friends such as FL, who has since quit Uni, but 47 at one point as well), who all seem to be grateful for an innocent loverboy's point of view.
The answer, anyway, is yes. You don't even have to talk about relationships - Jessie, Glamour Girl and Anna have all felt okay with chatting away to me informally, TD - evidently - is my main conversationalist (that's not even a word, is it?). If you want to ask relationship advice (well, opinions), just drop me an e-mail or add me to MSN (tim2timmers at yahoo.co.uk) and we will talk, promise!

What's with that e-mail address?
Well, okay, first of all, my name isn't actually Tim, heh. It's just a pseudonym I used before I started ILB, and since it was a spare e-mail address, I decided to use that one. I am well aware that Yahoo! is a shit company, but at least it still works. And yes, it works for MSN despite not being a Windows Live! address. Don't believe me? Add it!

What's your favourite sex position?
It's a tie. Missionary, astride (cowgirl), reverse missionary and doggie all have their merits. Although it's nice to see who you're making love to, so...

MORE ABOUT ME

What do you look like?
I'm tall for my age. I'd describe myself as 'average build' - or I used to on dating sites - even though I do have a slightly large stomach. I'm not a round person though, I'm a thin guy who got fat. I have short black hair, and sparkly blue eyes (my eyes are the only feature about my physical appearance I'm totally happy with). My hands are OK too, and my arms have a bit of muscle, due to playing musical instruments and computer games.

What are your activities, outside of your job and blogging?
Writing, and reading. Music - I mentioned my little rock band before, and I've also played in various orchestras and emsembles, although none of them for a very long time. I also once had a short-lived solo career. I like to sing and to dance, occasionally at the same time.
I've also been known to act. My biggest parts have been in Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard, Plautus' Gloriosus, Nichols' Forget-Me-Not Lane and a pantomine called Snow White and Several Dwarfs (we had 8). I did make an appearance on-screen in the recent movie An Education, but my cameo (where I walked across the screen smiling) was cut from the final edit. Damn you, Hornby!

Who are your favourite band?
James. By a long way. They have always got a song for every occasion, and I am grateful for their skill and dedication. Thanks, guys.
I'm into most rock, indie, alternative and pop bands, though. And I also have an inbuilt love of classical symphonies and Bolero by Ravel. Srsly.

If I want to read other blogs, which ones should I read?
Well, there are a few I recommend.

And what are you going to give me for Christmas?
This, of course.

*

That's it for another year. At this point, I'd like to thank everyone who's ever read the blog, the book, the reviews or anything else I've written, and especially much love and thanks to Lady Pandorah for reading and commenting so much, and Lace Stockings for being friendly and helpful recently. Blacksilk, Silver Archeress, and everyone else on Twitter who communicates and comments via the media revealed by Modern Technology. And you, whoever you are. (Yes, you! I'm talking to you!)

Monday, 21 December 2009

Review: Durex Play Vibrations (Twinkle Ring)

So, it was TD's birthday the other day, which of course means birthday sex. I'm sure it means other things, too, and certainly a few things stick out in my mind. It's just that they're all related to sex. I'm like that, you see. Anyway, it was my idea to use the Durex cock ring just before we had sex and therefore, there ensued a few minuted of manic fumbling while still erect. Hilarity is not dead, people.

The first thing I noticed about this product is the fact that the packaging it comes in isn't the easiest of beasts to open. Well, okay, maybe it is, but in fairness if you're ripping the thing open (or locating the pull tab) when you're actually raring to go and there's a beautiful naked girl with her legs open right in front of you, you don't actually want to be looking for a way to access the damn sex toy. Anyway, I got it open eventually.

The second thing I noticed is how much bigger my penis seemed once I'd actually put it on. Optical illusion maybe? I'm not entirely sure. I've put a cock ring on before and it's not exactly difficult - a bit of quick jiggery of the foreskin, positioning to put it in place and there you go. It's been a long time since I used a standard one sans glitter, so maybe I'm remembering wrongly, or perhaps I was just looking from a different angle. I looked huge. Maybe I am huge and hadn't noticed before. Or maybe the ring was trapping the blood in the erectile tissue. Whatever the cause, the effect was magnificent.

Apart from that, it just acted like a standard Durex cock ring. It vibrates the penis so there's more sensation and - if you position it correctly - it acts upon the clitoris, so your ladyfriend can have an orgasm clitorally as well as vaginally (go for the G-spot and tickle the anus with a finger and you may get all four at once... although I didn't actually do that; I'm not Plastic Man). It certainly had a cool effect, although a couple of times it slipped into a wrong position, so I had to withdraw, adjust, and go back in. But I guess without some sort of (possibly extremely painful) clip mechanism, it wouldn't stay in place anyway unless you just slide the penis in and keep it in one place. Where's the fun in that?

Orgasms ensued, although I'm uncertain if they were due to the cock ring, and satiated, I withdrew, and then played about with dragging the still-vibrating head around her still-wet pussy lips. Not a bad activity, really.

So what do I think overall? Well, it's very gimmicky, but that adds to the slightly kitsch charm of the thing. And it's almost Christmas, so I guess it's seasonal. But in operational terms, it's just the same as a standard ring. If you like it (then you should have put a...? No, let's not go there.), then you like it; if you don't, you don't.

But you should buy it, anyway, because...

IT'S GLITTERY!

It's got GLITTER in clear plastic! Just how cool is that? It makes no difference whatsoever to how it works, but IT'S GLITTERY! How much better would everything in the world be if it were GLITTERY? It. Sparkles. And. Shines. Fuck me sideways if that's not one of the best ideas in THE HISTORY OF MANKIND.

So, in a nutshell, twinkle back into one's sex life: maybe not. GLITTER: yes, certainly. Can't really find a way to fault that. Cheers, Durex.

Thursday, 17 December 2009

It's a Kodak moment

"Do you know what I mean by a border?" she said. My hand worked its way up a thigh.

"I think so?" I said, putting the interrogative onto the end of what wasn't actually a question.

"The border fits into the frame, so you put... " She spread her legs for me to settle myself between. "...the border on first... and then the picture, so you can't see the edges of the picture."

"Ah, I see," I said, lowering myself down and pushing my cockhead against her pussy lips. "Yes, let's do that. Or if I can't find one we could make one out of cardboard."

"Aaaaaaaah," she said as I slid my whole penis over her soft folds and deeply into her in one smooth stroke.

Wednesday, 16 December 2009

And you've had a bad day...

Got up very early this morning to go into college and have an exam which I promptly failed with style. Ah, crap. I mean, I don't have the final mark, but to pass this particular test you needed 100%. As most of the questions were physically impossible sans aid, and I was running out of time, I actually just guessed a few of the answers. So yeah, I failed.

Came home and tried to finish Super Mario Land 2: Six Golden Coins. Wario's Castle is a bastard of a level. At one point, after a particularly stupid death, I punched myself on both thighs (I have this habit, when I play games and I'm in a bad mood, I hit myself in order to get better. It doesn't work). Sat back in my chair and went "aaaaaaah, fuck" for a while. I eventually finished the game. I had to use save states, so yes, I cheated. But after the exam this morning I couldn't handle another crushing defeat, and I've been playing games since I was about 5, so I thought I ought to be able to do this.

So yeah, not a good day so far.

I'm off in a bit to talk about sex for a few hours and then to meet my girlfriend. So here's me being uncharacteristically optimistic. Well, I mean, this day can't get any worse, can it?

Tuesday, 15 December 2009

We Are Sound

The sounds that you make during sex are manyfold, as I'm sure you'll all agree. However, there's one rather permeating sound that I've noticed recently, although to be honest, it's conspicuous by its absence more than anything else (as I haven't been in bed with a naked girl for... must be coming up to a few days now; once you get started it's hard to stop, n'est-ce pas?). And that's the sound of skin against skin.

I love skin. Naked skin. It's beautiful; it looks great, it feels great, it carries a lot of significance, and the sound of naked skin against naked skin is something I have been thinking about all morning.

Of course, if you are engaged in rather rigorous love-making, then there are other sounds your bodies make that aren't from your mouth - the rather stomach-turning 'slap' of a pelvic thrust is one of them. I didn't even know sex made that sound until I watched hard porn for the first time (having been brough up on a diet of softcore smut found on L!VE TV and Bravo, I wasn't even aware sex made a sound of its own accord). But there's nothing like the aforementioned skin sound, and I think I know why:

It's soft.

That's right, that's why I think I like it so much. I like soft pillows, soft bodies, soft covers, soft porn and soft sweets, so why not soft sounds? Plus, you don't even have to be having sex. You can just be snuggling, or even hugging (although the nakedness is pretty much a prerequisite for this). A low hiss, almost a murmuring sound, and less of a slide than a roll. And next time we wake up together of a morning, I'll rub a hand over her arm, and listen out for the tiny, satisfying sound, like a sigh from the skin.

Friction's never been so sexy.

Sunday, 13 December 2009

Durex Viral

Anyone notice how Durex Play is being advertised a lot these days? I've seen it advertised at bus stops, on the TV, on billboards... kudos for Durex getting its message out there. Might be time for another review soon, methinks.

And then there's this...




Mummy, make the bad man stop.

Friday, 11 December 2009

The young raver who knew too much!

The young raver who possibly had swine flu is now fully recovered and ready to rejoin our little social clique of outcasts and general misfits. We no longer do the quiz, but we still go to drink... or, in my case, er... drink, but not the same stuff. He mentioned to us a girl, Natasha, who has gained notoriety within our world despite the fact that nobody's ever met her - or, as I believe, come across any evidence besides his word to suggest she exists - who lazily MSN'd him an invitation to Cardiff to 'stay over' for New Year's. Clearly there was something else on her mind...

...except not really because she told him that nothing was going to 'happen' should he go to Cardiff.

"Stuff's going to happen anyway," the young raver informed us. "I'm not spending £70 on a train to Cardiff for nothing to happen."
"It's an odd sort of booty call when she's specifying no sex," I commented. Robinson nodded sagely.

The young raver has had sex (with Natasha) in a park - in fact, that's where he lost his innocence (not that he was ever innocent before); however, any shred of youthful naiveté that he may have had retained was lost when, somewhat foolishly, he went outside to stick some burning leaves in his mouth, leaving his phone on the table unattended. I was alone at this point, as everyone else had gone to stock up on alcohol. So out came his received texts. Most of them were from girls, obviously, with names saved like "Ashley the best" and "Ciara xxx". But the most revealing came from someone called something like "Emilee" (it was a corruption on Emily, anyway) which started with:

French pants and nothing else... it's warm lol what r u wearing? x

Hmmm. I really shouldn't be lookng at the next one... oh, go on then.

You promiscuous man lol x

Okay, now that could have come as a reply from all sorts of texts. And then there was one more...

It's a mistake lol, but neva mind I'm doing it too lol x

Well... I don't exactly know what to think. Neither did Robinson when I gleefully passed him the young raver's phone upon his return to the table. But it's nice to know that at least one more person's having fun.

Thursday, 10 December 2009

List Of Books Read By ILB To TD, 2007-2009

The Little White Horse, Elizabeth Goudge
Heidi, Johanna Spyri
A Little Princess, Frances Hodgson Burnett
The Ordinary Princess, Mary Margaret Kaye
Tom's Midnight Garden, Phillipa Pearce
The Dragonfly Pool, Eva Ibbotson
The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery
The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
Vinegar Street, Philip Ridley
Farmer Boy, Laura Ingalls Wilder
Knife, R. J. Anderson

Because it's good to keep a record somewhere.

Wednesday, 9 December 2009

Removes pain, period.

I know all about abdominal pain, so when young ladies complain about their lady-parts-go-ouch days, I sympathise. I mean, being a sympathetic guy I'd sympathise anyway... because that's who I am... but I digress; I spend a lot of my time in considerable stomach pain, so I understand. It's a hateful, spiteful kind of pain, the kind that makes you want to wave a fist angrily and scream, "How long, O Lord?" (Habbakuk 1:2).

But the period has an upside, at least, it does if you are me, and of course, the obvious upside being that I'm not the one experiencing the period. But then there's the fact that I get to pet my lovely girlfriend, and share chocolate with her, as well as stories, snuggles, advent candle watching and Russell Howard's Good News. And of course we have an excuse to do all that, because she's on her period and needs some TLC. I, of course, am not complaining.

And then there are the sexytimes. Obviously there's little penetration to be done when the young lady is 'on' (although it's not unknown; I've had period sex; seems to work just fine) - and licking out sans tampon (not being a lady I don't actually know all the mysterious practices, but I know you can use a tampon or a sanitary towel) makes me feel a little bit like Dracula - but there's always licking to be done with a tampon in, too.
In fact, that's convenient. You've got a little blue string to hold onto, which is also a useful placefinder when it's pitch dark. The clitoris is also still available, and free for stimulation... oh, and the tampon soaks up most of the mess, too. I fail to see any faults... except for the whole no-penetration thing. But I can deal with that.

I didn't realise the orgasm would be that intense, either. But, as I said... I'm not complaining. Neither, come to think of it, is she.

Monday, 7 December 2009

Addiction XIV: WaveRace 64

Just read a post on a friend's LiveJournal... you know, one of those friends who knows who I am. She has the guts to set her 'current mood' to oversexed and write explicitly about the, quote, mind-blowing sex she's been having recently. This girl seems to have quite a lot of sex, except that it'd been a year since the last boy, so - with personal experience behind me - I sympathise. But reading her joyous shouts of rapture in excited prose form got me thinking.

I had mind-blowing sex last night. I mean, I really did. I'd wanted to have sex with her (TD, not my oversexed American friend) since... well, always, but specifically had been in the mood since about 5pm. Had a sneaky feel of her knee under the table in the pub; didn't go any higher than that, but it got my important bits working. And so we continued our day, with me rather tightly wound. Not that I'm sure she noticed. I shall have to ask.

And lo, the end came to our day. Well, sort of. In fact, the DVD of Lewis was in the laptop and we were about to watch, but then I sort of... accidentally took my pants off. Well, that is, deliberately. But I say accidentally because it's funnier, and because I was turned on. To be honest, TD was naked at this point and in my bed and I was wound-up and if I hadn't taken my pants off at that moment, they would have probably been ripped off from within, so it wasn't really my fault. I was showing great consideration for my underwear.

It didn't take long for the laptop to end up sitting on a chair elsewhere in the room, leaving space free on the bed. It also didn't take long for me to penetrate her. How I'd missed that - yes, it had only been a few days, but I'd missed it. And here's the explicit bit, folks: when one's penis enters one's lady's vagina, if one takes a short grace period before moving, there's a feeling of the pussy walls sort of... moulding their way around one's shape. It's almost like they're getting (re)acquainted with the feeling of you inside her, against those walls which are so adaptable. That's what I'd missed... the feeling of being inside. The feeling of being taken... the feeling of the walls reshaping themselves.

Of course, I'd missed the orgasms as well. Hers. That took slightly longer... not that that is a bad thing at all, you understand.

"I've got a problem," I groaned.
"Wha'?..." she gasped.
"I can't stop!" I replied.
"Don't stop!" she moaned.
"I don't want to!" I yelled.
"Good!" she purred.

Then she came. Come to think of it, so did I.

Down I went, pressing my tongue against her clit. Swirl swirl swirl, lick lick lick. She came again... I felt the ripple, I tasted the cum, I had her legs clamped hard around my head. Yep, that makes two. Back up again. Still hard? Yes. Good. Back in. Thrust.

I don't know about you, but I've always found that girls' orgasms get increasingly lustful the more they have. I must test this theory. So there I was, on top, bracing the waves of something like the four-millionth orgasm. Or the fourth. Fuck, they all just ran together, who's counting when you're having this good a time? Or, actually, this good a ride? I even stopped for a second or two to reposition, and I still felt myself moving.

That, my friend, is what mind-blowing sex is. Now, would you mind being more explicit about yours?

Shame she won't ever see this. But I'm pretty sure that she has better things to do than reading blogs...

Sunday, 6 December 2009

You're wellcome to it

So, at the Wellcome Collection they have this new display about the notion of identity. I don't usually have to find an excuse to actually go to the Wellcome Collection (as long as "I'm expanding my mind... and they have tasty cake, shut up" counts as not being an excuse) but, in the most recent case, our university decided that it would be in our best interest to simply attend this display. In case we don't know what identity is, or something. In fact, the concept is questioned as soon as you step in, as you are assaulted by a huge maze of confusing corridors and the repetition of the statement "I am...", as well as "who am I?" - to which there's only one answer: "I'm Jean Valjean!"

Anyway, so I was extremely interested to find out there was a room about diaries. In fact, I spent quite a long time in this room, trying to crack the Peyps Code (which is much more interesting than the Da Vinci code), listening to Tony Benn's tapes, watching the idiots in the Big Brother diary room talking to the idiots who watch Big Brother, reading the diary of a small girl scout - no, really, it wasn't that interesting - and perusing the reams and reams of books they had chronicling people's drab, wretched lives. What a fun time I had.

But there was one thing missing. Well, two things. They didn't have any Adrian Mole books - come on, collection, can't you give an example of a fictional diary? Also, where do blogs feature? Couldn't they have had a screen, or a print-out, or even a mention? So to the wall plaque I went. Ah yes, there's the mention. Blogs don't count, apparently. They're on the internet so everyone can read them; therefore, they don't count as real diaries.

Humph. Yeah. Right. Okay, whatever. If I go back any time soon, I'm taking some print-outs (not a guarantee).

Anyway, this identity display may not have been in the safest of hands... even if they did deign to mention blogs, although they wouldn't show any. Identity they may be interested in... but sometimes they don't seem to know who they are themselves.

Tuesday, 1 December 2009

Addiction XIII: Comfort

As self-deprecating as I often pride myself on being (now there's a paradox), I rarely deny myself any opportunity for hedonism that would dare to come my way, although it often presents itself when I'd least expect it. For me, one of the greatest pleasures I can find to indulge in is finding some time to be in a state of relaxation. As Roger McGough puts it:

When you're depressed / deep rest / is best.

I've written before about how I have IBS, and although I've been indulging in the liquid Mebeverine (although that is in no way hedonism, because it tastes of banana and I hate bananas - and even if it didn't, it would still taste foul, so I need to find some water whenever I do take it), I've run out recently and it takes my pharmacist a couple of days to order some in. Also I'm lazy, so, y'know, haven't actually taken my precription in. Ahem. Anyway. I haven't any strengthening potion, so I haven't any strength, or other such analogies.

Last night I was awoken by throbbing pains in my stomach. That's odd, it's usually my penis that's throbbing. I lay there for a while, wondering if I should just turn onto my back and wait for the pain to go away. I did so, and it didn't. It just sat there making me hurt, like a stubborn cat that really doesn't want to get off the cushion, despite the fact that you need it to rest your head on. Eventually I lifted the covers with a rustle, stumbled out of bed, pulled the covers back over TD ('cause I didn't want to leave her cold), and staggered to the toilet (which, thankfully, is the first room you get to after leaving mine, first on the right).

I re-entered the bedroom feeling better, but cold and a little sore. I shivered my way across the carpeted floor and craeled gratefully back into bed, upon which I found that I'd woken TD up, not by getting up or getting back into bed, but merely by not being there. What that says about us I've no idea.

She sleepily moved over to me, kissed my cheek and then pulled me into a cuddle. I found myself relaxing, perhaps visibly (although it's hard to tell in the dark). Well, I thought, this was all right. Yes, I would prefer not being in any pain, also with... I checked the clock... three or so hours before dawn, I would prefer to be asleep. But this was all right. TD was warm and her skin was soft, and my soft pillow provided a place of respite for my head, which (apart from hurting a bit anyway) had so many things throwing themselves about within it I was beginning to think Valium would be a good idea.

So I lay back, not trying to sleep. I hardly moved - I barely even breathed. I concentrated on the mattress, the pillow, the girlfriend. Rest, softness, warmth. Soft sheets, soft sloth, soft skin. Like a long, steady, breath outwards. And after my brief moment of extreme pain and half-hour or so of discomfort, this was what I needed... I just needed to be comfortable. I just needed to lie there.

And so I did.