Yesterday I made one of my long-standing MSN friends come, just by typing. Twice. In LA. WOW!

We were talking about the night we'd shared at the S hotel nearly 2 years ago (I never said I see him much- work, you see...).

Basically, he'd sent a driver round who collected me (after midnight as I recall) and to make the whole affair even more clandestine, I didn't even realized he'd booked a room at the hotel until I found myself sitting in the exclusive "guests only" bar, sipping an obscure Martini and chatting to Usher's mum.

Music boy and I went upstairs, where we plundered the mini bar- unearthing a bottle of champagne and a pack of condoms in the process.

We then didn't stop rolling round the sheets until dawn.
He is now especially fond of remembering me sitting astride him, reverse cowgirl style, whilst he held on to my bum and entered me deeply from behind, watching my arse bounce up and down.

I remember it well!

He was totally insatiable, but it had been a long time coming (indeed... )- we first met back in 2000, but work/relationship commitments had kept us apart or unable to consummate a physical relationship despite the obvious attraction.

Now we both can't wait for a repeat performance. He is coming back in a month and staying at a different hotel, so I am looking forward to being wined, dined and sixty-nined by him again.
He won't stop going on about tasting me again.
Now, as unusual a compliment this may seem to some, it is actually the most frequently repeated by my lovers. (Along with my bum, that is- well either you like a big bum or you don't, in which case you will probably never end up between my sheets (or cheeks) anyway...)

Music boy was rough, I remember that. He asked: "Was I too rough?", inserting that shocked little smiley face afterwards; I replied: "just right".
He didn't think I'd come, which I definitely disagree with. Yes, it was late and I had had a few drinks, but I think that after a while I just couldn't keep up with him.
I DID come, just maybe not as many times as he wanted me to...

I started describing how I would lick him, how wet I was getting (not a lie!!!), how I'd bend over and flash him my knickers (and more)- then he typed: "You may find this hard to believe, but I just came". Well, it was 4am in LA, but he was still at work after all... Very naughty! What if they have CCTV!
He then came again.
Then he went home.
To sleep, I hope!

At the weekend I witnessed the most eruptive mass orgasm I have ever experienced.
A few friends and I had decided to immerse ourselves in the kitsch fest that is "Dirty Dancing" the musical, and we didn't regret a single second.
It started with the rhythmical beat of the opening number, it made us gyrate in our seats and jump up and clap with excitement.
In the scene where "Johnny" first shows off his rippling sixpack, the air was literally thick with horny hormones and I got wet just watching him all those seat rows away.
The dancing was good too, don't get me wrong, and there is even something in it for the lads- namely, "Penny", Johnny's dance partner who surely possesses the longest legs in London (and a VERY tight and short bodysuit indeed!).
So Boys, if you ever find yourselves horny and lonely in London, shimmy on down to the Aldwych Theatre which should offer a nice selection of suitably buttered-up females right there on the pavement at the end of the show!

As they say, when one door closes another one opens up. Or in my case, as a few men exit the revolving door, a few more spew in.
At work yesterday, the hot colleague was back.
He is so tall I don't dare looking at him when he stands next to me, in case I get vertigo and faint, or in case my blush gives me away as I look into his eyes.
I spotted a copy of Abby Lee's book (well we all know that's not her real name now) in his clear bag, and we had a good old natter about it.
There is definitely an electrically charged flirty air in the room when we talk!

We sort of have plans to see a play together, but at present are both too shy to make form plans- I can't wait till next week!

For lunch, I crashed out on the sofa with a magazine- Cosmopolitan was trying to tell me "How to turn bad sex into bed sex" (oh the clever turn of phrase- I think I am getting too old for this particular mag!)- whilst he sat at his computer chatting on msn and eating a yoghurt.

He does what I do: licks the yoghurt off the foil after he opens it.
I had one eye on the mag, one on his tongue on that foil. He was very patient with his licking, he seemed to enjoy it and I felt a definitive stirring between my legs.
"Read your mag, read your mag", I was trying to tell myself, but his presence prevented me from concentrating on any paragraph for any length of time at all.

We shared a few jokes and laughs, and the day passed much too quickly.
Can't say much more than this at present, but I hope he plucks up the courage to ask me to the play...

In the meantime, I have a date booked for dinner with Mr Red next week, which should be fun!

I can't say I plan to see my drinks guy (Blues Boy) from last Friday again- he lied about his age, his best mate is in jail for rape and he keeps licking his fingers, then swiping them across his eyes.

-Cashmere is back. He hasn't called but he is super active on the dating site. Nice.

-Blondie, my holiday fling has had weird messages about "women", a girl etc on his MSN log-in, today there is a photograph of a hot chick in a bikini in his display picture...

-The "Gent" urged me to keep in touch but he's not replied to my last text (after I saw a film we talked about).

It would all be fine if they were just honest. Cashmere's statement "I don't do closure" and then having my dating profile suspended, Blondie saying he is just referring to songs (and then putting into his MSN "Miss you doll"- well it's obviously not me, so why not say it? Coward!) and the Gent not being remotely interested in reoplying to my text after he ate my pussy like a hungry cannibal, is just weak.

Just showing off...
Have a nice day all!

boring!
yawn...

I really crammed them in this week but taking it slow. Some lovely meaningful conversations and potential new friends, one even let a few sparks flying...
We'll see where it goes.

Well, when I started this blog I thought: I will just keep updating on the various guys I have met and the ones I am sleeping with at present, then when I have found the "One" (the wheat in the chaff, the diamond in the rough, whatever), I will either stop writing because he might find out about it, or keep describing our blissfully happy life together.
This hasn't happened.
Instead, Flyboy (the Pilot), the Pilot 2, the Journalist, Chubby, the Aristocrat, Frenchie and whatever else I called them are at best at the peripheries of my life now (although I miss Canada like crazy, he is an MSN friend right now) and there is a whole new table of players:

My ex-friend's ex (the XX?): Had a lovely meet-up over cocktails last night. Non-romantic, but he is great company and we keep each other updated on our dating progress. Also talked about the EX (friend/girlfriend - see: "the bitch goes on", or "Merry Bitch-mas") and how she screwed us, which was therapeutic if not particularly constructive.

Blues Boy: A recent acquisition from my night job, he caught my eye weeks ago and this time we actually managed to have a lovely long conversation until I got told off for slacking. Going on a date tonight! (he likes singing)

Mr Red: (wore a red jumper) We had a date last night, a brief drinks thing before I met XX for cocktails. It was lovely and we couldn't stop talking. We have loads in common, the same degree, been to the same towns, like similar things... He could really relate to me and I to him, can't wait to see him again

Various other new web dating men I am about to meet soon/ exchanging messages with look promising, oh, and I just met a dashing young accountant I had a real laugh with all day, so who knows if it may lead anywhere!?

The trouble with so many options is just:
- I will get confused (thankfully or, confusingly, 3 of them share the SAME NAME!)
- I will get exhausted
- I will pick the wrong one
- I will sleep with them all and feel like a slut
- I will sleep with some of them and one will find out and get hurt/hurt me
- None of them will want to talk to me anymore when they suspect I am meeting a few of them to get to know them
- I will fall for 2 or 3 of them and be unable to make a choice, then end up alone again, ready for round 3...
- Some random guy from my past will suddenly propose and I will be even more confused (yeah right)
- I will get pregnant and have no clue who the daddy is (as if!)
- I will get annoyed with people calling me all the time, that I will just take off to NYC to let the Colonel fulfil his dirty desires with my bum hole or to let the arrogant American fuck me for money, or alternatively let the fat Indian prince sweep me off into the sunset... ?

Can anyone tell me what it is about "celebs" telling the whole world they will stay virgins until they tie the knot, only to pop out babies left, right and centre without so much as a church booked in their name before you can blink!?
Yes Britney and Katie, I am talking about YOU!
Why bother making such inane promises in the first place?
I certainly never expected to stay a virgin much past 14, the fact I didn't lose that cherry until I was 18 was entirely outside my control...

- sleep with as many people as I have.
- keep writing about my sex life for over a year
- finally get over the Bastard
- lose touch with this many friends
- go flying with two pilots!
- have sex with two herpes carriers without condoms
- have to teach a woman in her thirties that a flat doesn't clean itself
- go gambling with an 80-something millionaire
- get asked out by an aristocrat
- still believe nearly every lie I hear
- fall for the gayest-looking straight man I have ever seen (Cashmere)
- still be no nearer to starting that family
- sleep with a 19-year old!
- ever take Prozac
- get head-hunted for a dating agency for millionaires
- date someone shorter than me (Blondie and Booze boy)
- be in a position to buy a flat by myself
- meet so many cool people in blogland!
- get invited to the Maledives by an Indian prince and not go...

Watch "Birth night live" followed by "Britains youngest mums and dads" the next night. Why do we think this would be essential to our life's happiness!!?

I really don't get these guys:

-The man I gave my number to so he could call me, however he choses to ring at 10:33pm- why would anyone call someone they don't know at that time!?

-The guy who took out my friend and I for a meal on holiday- he suggested we share a second lobster (I agreed, thinking how generous of him)- then he got out his phone to divide the total by three. My friend protested- we'd thought we were being treated, and my friend had only had ONE lobster. The cheek of it! They didn't even take my card at that restaurant, so the guy marched me to the cash point. Why would I need to hang out with a fat, ugly married man over 40 if he won't even pay for dinner!?

-Cashmere. He's back in town and back on the dating website. Makes my blood boil!

-The guy who'd apparently fancied me from my evening job: He told everyone else before we'd even had a conversation! Then he came up to me on the weekend and interrupted a conversation I was having, basically just to say I should call him. Why!?

-The man on telly who found a "niche in the market" clearing dead bodies. Whose dream job is THAT?

-My boss. He spends half an hour in the toilet whilst important money people are calling- weird.

Yep, my life has settled into a slightly predictable routine for once.

I get up, work, come home, chill out and- you guessed it- play with myself.
Why is it that when there's nothing riveting on TV, nobody calls and I have no plans, as long as I am reading a book I can hold in one hand my other automatically wanders to my pussy?

At first, I just stroke and probe it tenderly, like I am absent-minded. Then the physical reaction happens and I can feel myself slicken up. I reach down into my vagina and moisten my finger, swirling it around my clitoris in circular motions. I am still reading my book, but sexy images flood my head. Like the Gent going down on me. Blondie fucking me on holiday, his long hair straggly aroung his head and his muscles taut whilst he holds down my thigh. Him entering me in the pool, both of us naked whilst the security guard is barely 10m away and pretending to turn a blind eye.
Someone fucking me from behind, my face in the pillow, I can't see who it is...
My book drops down onto my chest and I close my eyes, clamp a corner of my duvet between my legs and my right forefinger rubs my clit until I can feel an orgasm build up...

I can get quite noisy if I'm alone in the flat. Involuntary gasps and moans escape my mouth as my pussy spasms in extasy. I hope my neighbour upstairs won't think I am in pain one day and knock!
Funny how I never come that hard when anybody else is involved...