I discovered that Tall Boy had not meant to treat me as a convenient substitute for a free brothel the other Friday, instead he was taken aback to find out what I thought he had meant by "coming over tonight" without offering as much as a pizza in return, and then trailed off into an apologetic "I just don't get women" speech.

Ok, all was forgiven and we swiftly moved on to more fun things.

Neither of us was concentrating much on the figures on our screens, being totally absorbed by the figure across the room on the other desk.

He came over, stroked and kissed my neck and grabbed my back, and I felt myself slicken up in anticipation and the naughtiness of it all.

Kisses and cuddles, lingering glances and saliva were exchanged frequently whilst we tried to catch up with the work load, at one point I sat across his lap and kissed him deeply whilst we tried to listen out for suspicious noises (or noises of suspicion) from upstairs.

The boss left for a late lunch, leaving only Tall Boy, myself and a woman called Mary in the office, prompting his spontaneous outburst: "Bloody Mary!" which had me in a fit of giggles whilst I clenched my legs together excitedly.

Alas, she left and we raced upstairs into the room which is sometimes used as a bedroom... complete with sofa and double bed, and a blind we pulled down, leaving suspicious finger marks on the dusty wood.

Would we really go through with it? Would the boss be back to catch us? Would he respect me after? Who cared, I certainly didn't, I was too horny and in anticipation of our move I knew that such opportunities would be thin on the ground in future.

He sat back on the sofa and I straddled him, kissing him deeply and trying to look into his green eyes which he kept closed for some annoying reason (I do the same, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking of someone else...?), whilst he pawed and groped me with his big hands to the point it was almost painful.
But very, very erotic nonetheless.

I can't have guys pussyfooting around me, gentle, tickling fingers and barely-there touches are reserved for encounters with girls which I don't crave. No, as far as men go I want to feel that you are a man, that you could crush me, that you will take me and that my body and my curves turn you on.

He unzipped his flies and his hard dick sprang out- I knew how turned on he'd been all day but it was nice to finally see for myself, and I lowered my lips around him and licked him gently, then sucked hungrily whilst he leaned back on the sofa with a moan.

I pulled him by the front of his shirt on top of me, lying back on the bed with my legs spread and opened my mouth to his kiss.

I had jeans on which he unzipped, pushing my knickers aside and I was first to feel my wetness which surprised and excited him, then offered my fingers for him to lick which he did eagerly before I sucked his dick once more.

I so badly wanted him inside me, and by that point he had also abandoned all inhibitions, and found a condom in his trouser pocket.

My long top was off and I was lying in my bra and knickers, splayed on the bed at the office with a sincere hope that my boss would take as long for lunch as he normally does, although we knew we had another 20 minutes before his appointment with Tall Boy.

Quickly I pulled my top back on, just in case, and Tall Boy lowered himself between my legs, my jeans now discarded on the floor; he pushed my pants aside and entered me forcefully, rawly and unstoppably, clasping my wrists in his hands above my head.

"Oh my god", he moaned, and I could tell he wasn't far off, "I am coming soon", but I wanted him to- although I wanted it to last for ages, I was realistic enough to know it would only ever be a quickie, and that we should get it over with before my boss returned.

A few forceful, determined strokes of his hard, thick cock later, and I could tell he was holding back so he wouldn't explode. I enjoyed the sensation of him inside me, Christ it had been over a month since the last time and I was drunk, this time it was daylight and I was sober and I wanted him so, so much. His smell, his weight on me, his voice and his breath in my ear, his paws on me and the look in his eyes...
I tried to make myself come with my hand whilst he pumped away slowly, but then I jsut told him to go for it, to fuck me hard and he did, violently, affectionately and without regret.

He came within a few seconds and I held him inside me whilst I stroked his back and my clitoris at the same time. There was nothing for it, I needed more time but this wasn't the right place for it.

He kissed me, my mouth, my neck, my cheeks and got up, rolled the condom off and pulled his trousers up whilst I scrambled around for my clothes.

As I tried to loop my belt through my top again, still sans trousers, I heard him talking from the bathroom.
"Yes David", I heard him say, "I will copy these reports for you and have the figures in a minute!".

I froze. I didn't hear my boss's response but I didn't need to, my heart had stopped and I felt faint.
What on earth was I doing in the guest bedroom with my hair in a mess and no trousers on!? What would he say? Had he heard us? We hadn't been exactly quiet, assuming the house was empty, and now Tall Boy was washing his hands in the bathroom whilst I scrabbled around for my remaining clothes on the floor.

I tried to be very, very quiet. Maybe I could sneak downstairs and pretend I'd been out?
Tall Boy was giving me looks and signals from the bathroom as I peeked around the door, pointing at David's office and reassuring him again that he'd bring the papers in in a minute.

"Are you serious!?" I mouthed, my eyes wide and the sound of a waterfall in my ears, still trying to do my stupid belt up.
"Yes", he mouthed back, pointing at the office and nodding his head vigorously.
I didn't quite believe him, but then again I didn't dare to not believe him, either.

I nearly cried. What had I done? How effing stupid does one girl have to be? Hadn't I told Tall Boy before that I chose not to conduct my affairs in the office? And yet we had gotten carried away.

Finally, he started laughing.
"Aaargh!" I screamed, "you fucking bastard, I don't believe it!", and I ran at him, shunting him into the door frame and trying to slap his face in anger and relief.

Immediately, he claimed I had hurt his shoulder so I stopped pushing him, but I was just soo annoyed! The man is 32 for chrissakes, not 13!

We went for lunch and bumped into my boss on the street outside. "Just grabbing a sandwich!" Tall Boy called to him, and we sat on a bench with our food and laughed and teased each other.

"What did you do with the condom?" I asked him, and he pulled it out of his pocket, including the wrapper, and wrapped it in his empty sandwich box and tossed them in the bin.

The date the Bastard is getting married, apparently.

Why do I care?

Why indeed?

Maybe because of the fact that for 2 years all I have gotten is dumped (although a lot of fun was had in the process, I should add) whilst he found another dumb cunt to accept his debt-ridden ring on her stinky finger.

Good luck to them I suppose.

Also I was hoping to have such a cool wedding date myself, especially as I was born in '77...

Or maybe I am just grumpy because I am tired, having overdosed on champagne and under-slept this last week. Ugh.

that Tall Boy was sighted at a pub on Friday night, having a good old laugh with two girls.

HAHA! Meanwhile I was sat at home with the flatmate who is quickly becoming a little-sister-substitute, watching Little Britain and educating her on British humour.

In a way, I am hurt. I mean, my pride is scratched - because I had expected him to phone after he'd gone home to change and shower, begging me to let him come over. I think he probably knew that was a no-go though although I may have been tempted because I was so buttered up from our afternoon's shenanigans.

He's been quiet, I've been quiet, but according to my friend who spotted him (London isn't such a big place to hide in after all!) I should just enjoy the flirting at the office and an occasional free lunch.
Then again, what do they say about free lunches?

Sailing Boy was in Amsterdam and suspiciously quiet, I guess my request for a separate room at his parents' place didn't endear me to him, or whatever;
Baldie Dance Boy hasn't been in touch since I ignored his demanding ansaphone message;
and Flaky Boy has been so flaky I have lost patience.

Then again, who cares? Do I love any of them? No. Do I trust them? Neither. Are they making me feel great? Not exactly. Whatev'

Why am I STILL obsessed with KB and Cashmere etc and the reasons they left me and refused to keep in touch?

I am at a gig, surrounded by happy people, entertained by famous people, sipping an amazing cocktail after nearly beating a cute guy at pool (sadly my doubles partner really sucked) and then it hits me: I am on my own, KB has rejected me and I still lust after his green eyes, his chubby hands on my body, his wet dick on my thigh, his wit, his voice and I dial his number.
Number withheld, and it's too loud to hear anything anyway, but I notice he picks up.
I hang up and dial again. People around me are dancing and having a good time, there are four girls who are interested in talking to me but they smoke, which depresses me.

This time I notice KB speaks but I can't hear what he's saying. I am sure he knows it's me.
He doesn't know many people, which makes his avoidance of me even more personal and hurtful.

After all if we still spoke I am sure it wouldn't even mean that much to me, I was usually pretty happy when he used to ring and ask: "how are you?" in a heavy voice.

Now it hits me repeatedly that he doesn't want me, that nobody wants me and certain things have been tainted for me.
Champagne.
Charity Shops.
Gentlemen's clubs.
Cashmere.
The fake engagement rings I keep buying for myself and my obsession with pregnancy tests (yeah it looks like my period, but it might not be... yeah I know we used a condom, but still... etc)

I hate the cynical green hand in the pit of my stomach and I can't get rid of it, only numb it with alcohol but it's thirsty, and it wakes up and gets ravenous.

At an art gallery, surrounded by talented people and appreciative people and free booze, I wish I was sharing the experience with somebody who shares my taste in art, who agrees that spending 40 grand on a shard of metal is crap, and that having a friend paint your portrait is beautiful even if you could never afford to buy it yourself.

I drink the booze and dazzle the arty-farties, and listen to tales of success and struggle and get complimented by a Persian lawyer on my positive energy and my selfless introductions (well one has to promote the artists!), then I get depressed and hungry and tearful and sneak out to have dinner on my own.

It is raining but as I wait for it to stop so I can cycle home it only gets worse.

I go back in and on our way down ten minutes later (the gallery is closing) I ask one of the talented boys and the boy who makes Clive Owen's wardrobes what it means when a guy takes you out to dinner, then invites you to his parents' house for sailing, but then you don't hear from him for a week?

They are stumped and say that women think too much. "He's just not that into you". "Maybe the parents really did stay home that weekend"... etc.
"Was it because I asked if I'd have my own bedroom?" I reflect. No useful answer is forthcoming.

I suspect that band-aid boys can somehow sense that they are being plastered over an open sore and that sex with a recently bereaved is not worth the emotional can of worms it might open.

I still get wet on my bike.
Then Tall Boy texts and asks if I will come to Covent Garden. A sweet thought but it was too bloody late by that time. Still, it shows he's thinking of me; or just drunk.

he said, beckoning me over to his desk.

I approached and was confronted with a glossy, shaved, nude-apart-from-a-red-belt woman making love to two headless men.

One had his ass towards her and his cock in her willing pussy (how? I have no idea...), the other one hung somewhat unenthusiastically into her mouth. At least he was wearing a wedding ring, I noticed. And the guy in her cunt was presumably the best man. Who knows.

I laughed out loud and returned to my desk.

"Do you have a lot of porn on your computer?" I asked him.
"Oh, this is just something my friends sent me" he replied. Um, of course.

I could possibly feel sexually harrassed or whatever if I didn't like him so much...

As it happened, my somewhat foul mood from last week was lifed by
1) our second illicit lunch together that week
2) his sweet text last night
3) his lips, his hair, his kisses
4) the arrival of my period
5) the absolute knowledge that I will have him again. On his turf, on my terms
6) his laughter, his smell, his energy
7) how shy he suddenly seemed after all that cocky msn tomfoolery

HAHA!

Being left in the office on our own, we went into the kitchen to "make tea" and ended up in one corner, his hand up my skirt and touching my clit lightly through my knickers and leggins, my hand carressing his stiff cock through his jeans, his delicious kisses deep in my mouth whilst he grabbed me tightly to him, making me moan with pleasure; making me wet.

I heard a noise from upstairs and stiffened, and he was back at his desk before you could say "horny".

Making tea again, a little later (or was it "loading the dishwasher"?) I put my hand inside his trousers, I simply HAD to touch his smooth dick to check against my drunken memory that it really WAS that nice.

"I won't lick it" I warned him as he started unbuttoning his flies. He breathed heavily and increased the pressure against my sensitive spot. "Why not?" he asked, "at least then we can say we've done it".
Oh the logic of horny men!
I HAD to do it then of course, firstly to remind me of his taste (or, like with chocolate, the "in-mouth-feel"), secondly because I too wanted to be able to say I had had him in my mouth at the office, and thirdly...um... because I was certain we wouldn't get caught.

I bent my knees slowly and sucked him into my mouth, licking him and tasting his smoothness.

Thankfully my ears still work when I've got my mouth full, as the noise of my boss coming down the stairs made us jump apart. Tall Boy's eyes widened and he tucked himself back into his jeans.

When my boss came down he found me in the kitchen, innocently stirring two cups whilst Tall Boy typed away at his computer.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" I asked him as I washed my hands and wiped them on a dish cloth in the interest of hygiene, but to my relief he declined or I would have had the dumbest grin on my face when I served it to him.

I still don't know Tall Boy's plans for the weekend, or why he just wants a casual fling with me when all his friends are getting married.

Rolls Guy phoned me to confirm our second dinner date this week.

He asked if he could "have" me after dinner.

I thought it was time to make him face the harsh reality that he ain't what I'm looking for at present, and much as I like to be wined and dined and driven around in a Rolls Royce, and I even don't mind him stroking my thigh and I have been entertaining the thought of him spanking me, I just don't want to tempt fate and end up in bed with him. Ugh.

So, he got a bit pushy and demanded to know why I'd jumped straight out the car after he drove me home, and I told him in no uncertain terms that I could have got the tube since I live right next to it, and that it was his decision to drive me in the first place with no expectations from my part.

I have no idea if we will ever speak again, but if we don't it's his loss.
I can't be dealing with all this pushiness from guys who aren't even my boyfriend!

-------

A 40-year old Irish guy I dance with has taken a shine to me, and he came out with some friends of mine on the weekend- we had a nice barbecue party at a wedding venue, very posh!
That night we tentatively agreed to meet up again soon, just the two of us, to talk some more (and drink some wine).

I like him, he is great to dance with and although bald men aren't my "thing" he's not unattractive. We've had some chats and bonded somewhat, but it's too early to tell if he'd be a serious contender for me to consider as "future husband material" or whatever.
I did pour my heart out to him about KB a bit, and told him about my afternoon tea date with the "35-going-on-65" lawyer, but apart from hands on hips (his on mine) and cheek on cheek on the dancefloor, nothing has happened.

So imagine my surprise when I received a rather pissed-off sounding answerphone message the other night, demanding to know why I'd "left without saying goodbye properly"!?

Inappropriate or what, talk about scaring a girl off... what would he be like if he were my boyfriend I wonder!?

All I'd done was:
-decided to go home (it was nearly 11pm on a weeknight)
-waved to my acquaintances and shaken a few hands on the way out
-and gone home.
I had given him a friendly wave too, wearing my jacket and clutching my bags, not wanting to interrupt his dance with a girl I don't know, so I assumed he knew I'd gone and that's it.

When I got his message, I guess I was already on the tube.
It wasn't a nice thing to arrive home to though. How weird. I think the main reason I didn't wait for him to finish his dance was that the other night, he'd asked me if I wanted to go for a drink somewhere there and then, and frankly, it was just too late for me.

So there. I don't plan to call him back and "explain". Where would that get me!?

Tall Boy told me last week he'd be in the office today.

Not that we could get up to much with the boss here, but still.
He's not here and that sucks!

I have a short denim skirt on despite the wind (with leggins, lol!) and even did my makeup this morning... I thought I look pretty cute, but nobody's here to appreciate it.

Not that I should LET us get up to anything anyway, seeing as all he wants is a no strings affair to brighten up his week.

What do people think this is, a dating site?

If I wanted you to see my mug or know my name, I'd be plastering them on the banner.

If reading doesn't get you off, then seeing my pic certainly won't help either!

It just struck me that Tall Boy is incrediby stupid.

To have missed the signs I was giving him for months and months. That I liked him and wanted to be alone with him, take him out etc... Is he thick?

To sleep with me when I'm drunk - it's never that good when she's drunk boys, and may lead to all sorts of complications.

To start something which can only be described as a sordid affair with me. Hang on a minute, was he not thinking that if things go wrong (as they have a habit of doing even in "serious", "loving" relationships) he might LOSE HIS JOB or that his company may well LOSE OUR BUSINESS?

Insane, isn't it?

That he's not even thinking ahead that much as to at least give me the illusion that he might genuinely care about me is really beyond my comprehension.

It also strikes me how incredibly stupid I must be for texting him last night: "You've got me thinking about your hard cock". NOT a good move. I am sure he's now utterly confused.
"What a pity", he text back, "you weren't thinking about it an hour ago- I was on the tube and could have made a little stop to show it to you Sweet dreams xx"

OK, this takes the BISQUIT OF STUPIDITY! Just fucking RING the girl, RING her bell and FUCK her senseless- she's so stupid she'd probably do it.

Tall Boy is beginning to get on my nerves, who would have thought that?

His MSN conversation almost amounts to sexual harrassment, if you know what I mean.

Just to recap: What am I to make of a 32-year old man who
-showed no huge interest to go out/be alone with me October til January
-acts slightly weird upon discovering my budding relationship with KB
-suggests we go out drinking after KB and I have split
-kisses me at the club and can't keep his hands off
-comes back to my place when we're plastered
-takes up my invitation to stay
-seduces me although I'd warned him we'd "just sleep"
-fucks off without breakfast
-goes all sexy and flirty at the office, but makes no attempt to ask me out
-holds my hand and kisses me over lunch...

BUT: NOTHING BEYOND THAT!

I am sick of playing games,
of feeling like a toy,
of investing emotion when all I get is taken for a ride.

This is what I'm dealing with... gosh it's SO annoying!

TB says:
actually, I'm planning a visit either next Tues or Thurs, which suits you better

S says:
oh

TB says:
ie when do we get to use the upstairs office
S says:
ok... either!
you cheeky sod
as I said, I usually chose to conduct my affairs outside the office!

TB says:
jaja

S says:
Thursday I guess is good! But I've had no info about who'll be in

TB says:
what do you mean you have no idea who will be in?

S says:
at the office

TB says:
I'll be in...
you!!!

S says:
so I can't guarantee you'll get your end away!
Anyway, who says I'd let you...

TB says:
I live in hope

S says:
ah I see... no effort required? Apart from hope?

TB says:
oh no, I'll put plenty of effort in

S says:
oh fab! I look forward to that!

TB:
mmmmm
you like it hard then?

S says:
I like to be wooed hard mostly

TB says:
I wish you were here siting on my hard cock

S says:
yeah
me too. Preferable to a yawn-ful day at the office- it's really quiet today

TB says:
boooooring
what a shame we can't be fucking each other's brains out

S says:
you like to progress things at a steady pace, don't you? first, months of no interest, suddenly it's hard cocks at dawn!

TB says:
haha
yes indeed
hard cocks at the crack of dawn

S says:
serioulsy, I thought all this was was a one-nighter... after your swift exit...

TB says:
no chance

S says:
chance? would be a fine thing

TB says:
the thought of you sucking me off has made me ridiculously horny

S says:
nice. I have to say I quite liked that cute face of yours between my legs... and your strokable hair... and you holding me close as you fucked me!

TB says:
I really enjoyed your hands on my arse as you took my cock deeper and deeper into your mouth

S says:
where else was I going to put them?
You are SO naughty! Shouldn't you be working on some spreadsheets?

TB says:
dunno but they felt great
I am working on spreadsheets

S says:
Listen buster, you gotta make up your mind about me

TB says:
huh?

S says:
I dunno, usually it takes people a while to get to that full-on sex talk... and they tend to speak occasionally in between!

TB says:
did I mention that I'd like to rub your tits whilst your legs are wrapped round my shoulders...
then after a nice long fuck cum all over them?

S says:
ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! [here I was getting exasperated- I mean HOW do you answer that?]

stop it.

TB says:
I really should
I'm never gonna get rid of this erection otherwise

S says:
go have a quick wank

TB says:
I may just do that

S says:
I will think of you in a toilet cubicle wanking into a tissue!

TB says:
haha
shame I'm not at your office

S says:
don't you have a fuckbuddy you can call?
I know...

TB says:
could get rid of it in an altogether more pleasurable fashion
do you have a fuckbuddy you can call?

S says:
no
but I ain't as horny as all that...

TB says:
really?

S says:
I have my fuckbuddies call ME, don't you know...

TB says:
aaaaah! After your hot and steamy messages I thought you may have one
they're "fucking" useful
shit, now my balls are aching

S says:
oh what?
poor you
Which fuckbuddy? YOU?
yes?
oh- did you just pop to the loo... I understand!

TB says:
hahaha
I need to find a fuckbuddy if you've already got fuckbuddIES!

S says:
I don't
just speaking in general terms
I also find that these days, I get emotionally attached to men I sleep with so it's a dangerous game

TB says:
you said you didn't when we had lunch

S says:
didn't what?

TB says:
get emotionally attached all the time
what's wrong with sex for the sake of sex ("a jolly good fuck")

S says:
no, I didn't

TB says:
ok but what's wrong with sex for sex's sake?

S says:
I can't do it
you're not exactly a stranger, which makes things complicated. As I said I am really over casual sex
sorry
saying that I would to do it again, but I am afraid I might just end up hurt and disappointed, so best not go there

TB says:
oh
as a (male) friend of mine once said...
"that's a major pity"

S says:
I have just been dumped remember? I think the whole rebound fling thing would be a major mistake. And I get the feeling that's all it would be for you.

TB says:
you may be overthinking things a bit there

S says:
I know
I can't help it, I'm a woman you know!

TB says:
haha
I try to do as much thinking as possible with my "little" head

S says:
I know it's a pity, but the last thing I need is to fall for someone else who then blows me off
if you must know, I only sleep with guys I like, not guys who just happen to be horny (or I would be very busy indeed)!

TB says:
at this rate I'm never gonna be anybody's fuckbuddy

S says:
you're too old for that

TB says:
bollocks

S says:
what's so good about being fuckbuddies?
on the other hand, you never showed that much of an interest before, how come? I wasn't married you know!

------------------------

WELL, I SUPPOSE THAT TOLD HIM! Men really do only hear what they want to hear.
Better to nip it in the bud than deal with months of mental anguish (and really great sex). I just can't do it.