The one I couldn’t help myself but reply to….

This message came in whilst I was away in Texas over the weekend. BTW- some hot men wandering around Austin.

This is from a guy with a very dull short profile, who is himself rather lacking in height and is wearing a hat in both his pictures. This spells bald to me. Not so bad eh? Maybe a little unimaginative with the words, not tall and minus hair, but please take a look at his opening message to me.

• hey, you looking good;) wanna pound you really good..mmmm babyyy..lol
  ray

   

• ME-
  May 17, 2012 – 5:49pm

  God, I can’t think of anything worse…..
• RAY
  May 17, 2012 – 11:11pm

  Well, you would not say that if you know how good i fuck .. i ll make your pussy all creamy 😉 mmmmmm babyyyy lol… 9 inches cock here babe.. you probably dont like big cocks???
  For gawd’s sake Ray…. seriously?

And this one just got me all excited….

hey, i dont wanna waste your time so ill get right to it. im not a creep, just a single college student. im looking for a cute girl to flirt with, trade photos maybe web chat and phone sex? Im a nice guy, but just a little lonely lol interested?

Pictures show a skinny white guy with glasses. Jackpot!

Today’s offer I couldn’t possibly refuse….

Hi there. You probably get approached by guys like me all the time. But that won’t stop me from trying.

The bad: I’m married, and not in an ‘open’ relationship. I’m not local to you

The good: Everything else. I;m in Manhattan until Sunday. I have an amazing room :). I’d like a date. I have photos available if you are at all curious. I’m well educated. Intelligent. Very well employed. Reasonably well traveled. Curious. Happy. Fun.

Interested? I’d love to hear from you.

Ah… this made my day…

Just received this message from a rotund dude, 25, who looks like he may live in a trailer and is 5’5″.

“Wow you are hot as hell. Is it bad that I want a girlfriend I can treat like a princess, and who will let me watch her with black dudes?”

Now how could I turn that down? 

Where I get lost, end up at Cheers but Woody Harrelson wasn’t there…

So I went out last night, into Manhattan, to meet up with Steve, the personal trainer with amazing tattoos. Steve was the one I totally forgot to meet up with last Monday.

I apologised profusely and he forgave me. I said the beers were on me and we’d arranged to meet at a bar in NoHo that was close to where he was working.

Normally I don’t agree to meet in the city on a weeknight because of the travel time etc and trying to get an early night to be awake for the baby. But I felt this time I owed Steve for standing him up.

I had to send him a quick email to say I was late (surprise, surprise) leaving home and would be there at half eight instead of quarter past. I got there just after nine.

There are two Broadway Stops. East Broadway is not Broadway-Lafayette, and if you get off at the former it will take you a good 25 mins to get to the latter.

Fuck.

I’m an idiot.

I arrived at this almost empty bar which was nothing like Cheers. Steve had gone. I sat and drank alone, wondering how my life had got to this. In my imagination in this sort of scenario I would make friends with all the other lonely losers and we’d have a gay old time. In reality the lonely losers looked like they might smell and stared at me as if they were imagining what I’d look like tied up.

I got lost on the way home too. I stopped in a Rite Aid and asked the way. Error. There is a reason these people work in Rite Aid. They have no idea what is going on in the world. 

I had to use the toilet in McDonalds so I stopped, had a cup of tea and read my book for a bit in the hope I would chill out, actually manage to read my map (yes, I had a map) and my feet would stop hurting.

Finally back in the right neighbourhood (why did I ever leave Brooklyn?) I went again into Rite Aid (never learn a lesson) and bought a pair of $10 gel insoles for my boots.

What a fantastic night. $30 lighter and nothing to show for it. Well, 1 pair of insoles.

I emailed Steve to let him know what had happened. I think we both agreed that maybe we should just leave it at that. 

It’s a times like this that I really rely on my ‘everything happens for a reason motto’. Maybe Steve would have killed me and actually my fairy godmother was looking out for me? Bollocks- basically I got stood up.

Sex Drawer. Massive Dildo.

Ooh, forgot to tell you about the sex drawer at Dave’s.

 

I think I may have mentioned it before but as I was getting up this morning the old sex drawer was open again I first spotted it when Dave opened it to get a condom out and had a very quick peak. This time I thought I’d have a bit of a rummage.

A strap on, LOADS of lube, wrist ties, ankle cuffs, a butt plug, loads of condoms and a massive dildo.

This and the fact his ex was a burlesque dancer is just slightly intimidating… but not really. I’m old enough now to know what I like and what I’ll say no to. The strap on looked all a bit much for me…..

Unexpected Sex Alert!

Last night I headed over to Spanish Dave’s (not Spanish but anyhoo…). We have been hanging out since I got back but just as friends. I mean this has been totally unspoken but he hadn’t tried anything and I sort of got the idea that he might have been seeing someone.

I went over to collect some stuff I’d stored at his but we ended up watching episodes of Bob’s Burgers lying on his bed. Dave’s apartment constantly looks like a bomb has been dropped, and I itch to start cleaning up every time I go round, but yesterday he’d done some laundry and a bit of tidying up. I could actually see some of the floor in his bedroom and the sheets smelt lovely and clean.

I had an inkling that Dave was feeling a little frisky as he isn’t well known for linen laundering- not that he is dirty as such- just a bit of a boy (36yrs old) His apartment is littered with computer games, books and magazines. I’m gagging to order a whole storage solution unity thing from Ikea and organise all that shit.

Anyway we went out for a burger, the direct result of watching Bob’s Burgers, and had a cool evening just chatting and wandering about. By the time we came back to his it was pretty obvious I was staying. It’s weird because we’ve already slept together several times but I felt nervous, at the same time as feeling totally comfortable.

We watched some more Bob’s Burgers and then listened to Pearl Jam on Pandora. It was as if we’d been together for years. Especially in the way I used his toothbrush and we both just stripped off and climbed into bed. We had sex to Led Zeppelin- ordinarily one of my dream scenarios but I did feel a bit rushed- Dave is good but a little rough.

That said, with the exception of the filthy hallway, I really have been through a bit of a drought so my god did I feel better afterwards. It’s weird how you can forget how good sex is for a while whilst you’re wandering around eating cake and drinking tea a lot. Dave has been doing loads of martial arts training so his arms and legs are like rock (as was his cock). Sorry, I had to do that. It rhymed, and it’s true. He’s got a bit of a tummy on him but that sort of thing never really bothers me. I felt a lot better than when we last slept together and I felt really out of shape. Not saying I’m rock but I’m a lot less jelly.

He just likes to bite a bit and is a fan of pushing my legs behind my ears. Even with the yoga and pilates I’m still not the most flexible. He doesn’t do sandpaper but he does jump in too fast. Why such a rush boys? The longer you wait generally the better it is for us girls. I don’t know is it just me? I don’t think so- it’s a complaint I’ve heard a few times. A quick nipple tweak, a couple of bites and then hand straight down the pants. Sometimes I don’t even have time to enjoy any of it before I’ve be numbed by rough hands.

But I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy myself, just that there could be some improvements.

Spanish D got up at 7am to go to some martial arts thing that involved pads and stuff. He said he could say ‘screw it to the class and stay home and screw you a few more times instead’. I don’t think my answer of ‘does that mean I have to be awake?’ was very enthusiastic. I’m just not a morning sex person unless it involves me just lying there, bonus if I can keep my eyes closed too.

I think I may have given SD the wrong impression as he texted after he left to ask whether I’d had a good time- I replied to say of course, and that I love hanging out with him- which is true but I feel that a chat about what is going on is on the way. Friends with benefits? Cool. 

 

Sexy Scooter Man… but will he call?

This Sunday I went on a date with S- the sexy scooter man.

Saturday afternoon had been spent at The Essex’s and was a boozy affair. I hadn’t seen them since I’d left in September so it was a good catch up. The Lovebirds came and the babies all got to meet which was adorable but then the wine drinking started in earnest. I, as usual, was pissed after the first glass and can remember drinking some hideous Campari based cocktail whilst scoffing pizza before beingbundles into a cab home around midnight.

So of course I was utterly hung over and sweating during this date. Not my best look.

SSM is 38, of Polish heritage and a lawyer. He also had a scooter which I would have ripped the piss out of had this been England but it’s actually a very good choice for NY. It was pretty powerful and it didn’t escape my notice that I was getting onto a scooter wearing a badly-fitting helmet with a complete stranger.

But after weeks of walking around it was cool fun, and it was a beautiful sunny day so we headed over to Red Hook, where you can look out across the water and see The Statue of Liberty. 

The only good thing about my hung over state was that I was concentrating more on trying not to fall asleep or be sick that I didn’t really have time to be nervous. I actually think he was a little bit nervous. I had some tea and then had caffeine induced verbal diarrhea where I went off on a rant about my Dad leaving my Mum etc. He was cool though, none of my waffling seemed to faze him at all.

We talked abut all sorts of things, I felt like I was keeping the conversation going more than him but he was apparently having trouble staying awake too as he’d had a big one on Friday and then had played basketball that morning.

Actually he told me a really funny story about getting stoned (something he does very rarely, so he says) before a concert and then pretty much blacking out the rest of the evening. Through friends and texts he found on his phone the next day he worked out that his ex-girlfriend of 6 months had arrived and he’d been so out of it he’d introduced himself to her and asked what her name was. I felt his pain.

He was very intelligent and funny but also quite quiet. Not that he didn’t talk lots but that he had a very laid back way of conversing. I can get very excitable and animated but he just seemed totally chilled out all the time. Something I think I like- or it could become a little annoying?

Our date lasted for seven and a half hours. We had lunch, walked around Red Hook, drove back to Cobble Hill, went to have a hot chocolate, went to the cinema and watched Hunger Games (I loved it, he wasn’t as impressed), got asked to leave the cinema as we were just discussing having a nap and whether they’d find us and then went for a drink. It was a very good day. I felt quite comfortable with him, we sort of linked arms during the film in a gay couple way, and I definitely found him attractive. He is tall (over 6ft) with a very athletic body. Far more football than rugby but I like that. He has a very manly look to him from being part Polish I think, light-haired and fair skinned but not pale. His features are big,particularly his nose and eyes, and I really liked his hands too.

He told me a couple of embarrassing stories about getting crabs from a hostel in Prague and being really drunk and sleeping in a doorway. He said that he had this thing of always blurting out really embarrassing stories about himself- which, as some of you will know, is soooo me. Like the time I crapped myself, felt utterly mortified but then told an entire table of strangers a few hours later…. I told him that story too. Oops.

It didn’t feel like seven hours, it just felt like a nice Sunday hang out.

In fact as he dropped me off at home he said ‘thanks for hanging out today’ which now I think about it is a little weird. We both said we’d had a lovely day and he lent forward to kiss me. Ok, here comes the only bad part. He kissed me with lips closed. Not a problem you’d think, for a first date at least, except it went on for ages and I sort of tried to change it into a more open mouthed kiss but it didn’t work and then I felt odd. So I went from Fernando, with his tongue right down my throat eating my face off to SSM giving me a  1950s movie kiss, but with less passion.

I mean is it possible that he spent all day with me but just didn’t fancy me enough to want to kiss me? Maybe he was worried about his breath? Maybe he doesn’t do kissing on first dates?

I’m going slightly crazy here chaps, and could do with your words of wisdom because I haven’t yet heard from him.

Ok, so it’s only Tuesday but that was a extraordinary first date. Surely he should have texted or something by now. He did seem really into it (me) and he didn’t seem like the kind of man to play games. SO WHERE THE EFF IS MY PHONE CALL?!

I’ve arranged some other dates so I don’t collapse and start crying if I don’t hear from him at all but please tell me he will call right???

 

Fernando loves a text message.

So after the 7 hr long date culminating in the hallway fornication the saga with the be-tattooed, be-muscled Brazilian continues….

So I awoke the next morning, hung-over, slightly sore but with a smile on my face. It had been a very successful date, out of the blue and I sort of expected to wake up to a text from Fernando. In fact I half-heartedly watched my phone all day whilst out with friends but he finally got in touch saying that his phone had run out of battery and he’d been out all day. Well that was said over three messages and the fourth said ‘Last night was so amazing! Can’t wait to see you again! What are you doing tonight?’

Now if I’d had a wax, wasn’t feeling so hung over and didn’t have such massive under-eye bags I would have jumped at the chance to meet up again and carry on where we’d left off but I felt and looked rough and was dying to get back to bed. There followed a barrage of texts about how good the night had been and how he would give me the best massage of my life (oh boys, if only I hadn’t heard it so many times…) and how he just wanted to chill out and wanted to do it with me. I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t flattered….

The next day was similar- Easter Sunday and I went to a lovely Lovebird family celebration full of delicious food- Fernando sent me texts calling me gorgeous and asking how my day was going, saying he missed me etc. Not that I have a problem with all this attention but to be honest I’m far too impatient to just text back and forth all day. I asked if he was busy on Wednesday, saying I would finish work about 6pm and how about a sober second date?

He replied that ‘Hahahaha no, hanging out drunk worked perfect for us! I can’t forget our date on Friday!’ I was just thinking ‘oh I see…. you made all this stuff up about wanting me to be your girlfriend etc, now I see what you really meant’ when he texted again to say “Just the second part of the last message was serious, I keep thinking constantly about our date’.

‘But maybe we could do something sober.’

‘Or not.’

At this point I just left it for him to think about. I like it when men take the lead at least in some small way. A second date, I feel, is pretty crucial and it always bodes well if the man decides on somewhere to go or at least comes up with a suggestion or two. Except if you’re my ex boyfriend Ryan, otherwise known as The Disappointment, who used to promise all sorts and then we’d end up at his with a chinese takeaway on a Sunday night. Oh but once he took me to a really nice spa where you could go nude. He refused to go nude or try the sensory deprivation tank (probably worried the emptiness in his head would be deafening) and then told me to ‘hurry up (enjoying myself)’ as he had to do some invoices that afternoon. What a fucking treat that was…

Anyhoo- I digress. We finally arranged to meet on the Wednesday eve. I came up with a plan of meeting at an arty farty cinema with cafe attached for some food first and then a film. Not much enthusiasm but some more texts about how he really wanted to see me. I reasoned that he was really busy working on this Brazilian TV show him and his brother produce. Along came Weds, I was feeling pretty tired and my face was still a mess from his beard attack on Friday so I wasn’t totally gutted when it became clear he wasn’t going to be finished in time.

I say ‘became clear’ as he didn’t exactly say ‘Hi there, I’m really sorry, work has over-run and I can’t possibly get away in time to meet you. Can we postpone? Again I’m sorry for messing you around’ or at least something along those lines.

What he in fact did really showed his 30 years. He sort of hinted on the day that he might not be finished in time for dinner. Then about the time I would have been getting ready to leave the house to meet him (if I hadn’t learnt to read the signals after many years of crap blokes) he started some joke about my babysitting rates (I’m a nanny) and whether I charged more for overnight…

As I said I wasn’t too bothered because I wasn’t feeling my best anyway and we arranged to meet on Saturday. He asked if I’d prefer daytime or evening and I said daytime- reasoning that if we had some sober time together we could then go out in the evening if we both wanted to.

Basically I wasn’t going to meet up, drink a bottle of wine and jump into bed with him. I really have got the stage where sober(ish) sex is far more enjoyable for me. We had such a strong physical attraction that we both knew sex was on the cards, I had not had any for a while and I wanted it to be good- ie not in the filthy hallway again.

I didn’t hear from Fernando on the Friday but wasn’t bothered. I went to have a Brazilian (ha ha) wax in preparation- done by a Russian lady called Esther. The first time I went it was amazing, quick, bloody painful but very thorough. This time was not so good… Esther appeared to be having a fight with the other lady who worked at the salon, as they kept shouting at each other through the door in what I presumed was Russian. This meant that Esther wasn’t really paying much attention to my lady garden. No I’ve never actually called it that before….

The result of this lack of attention was one foot covered in wax and a very, very sore arse. So sore in fact that I had to use some of the baby’s Butt Paste to be able to sleep, walking was very difficult for a couple of days and I paid $40 for the privilege.

LSS- Fernando didn’t turn up until 8.30pm. After arranging to spend the day together. I was just walking out of the cafe I’d waited in for an hour after he texted numerous times throughout the day extending the meeting time until it actually fitted what he wanted. Which was to meet up, have some food, get drunk together and have sex. Anywhere as far as he was concerned. The problem was that I’d gone off the whole idea by this point. HIs messing me around on Wednesday night and then  again on Saturday had had the same effect as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on Fernando as he was just getting the old Brazilian cock out in the hallway.

We had a nice enough dinner after he had pretty much begged me not to go home. He gave a big old long excuse about how he’d been catching up on sleep after a heavy work week. TRUTH- he gone out and got drunk the night before. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. Nope. Never said that before but I felt it fitted here. I spent most of my twenties coming up with complete bullshit excuses to cover for my almost permanent hangovers.

Fernando spent most of the meal trying to get me to join in his sexual conversations… I felt the urge to talk about the drainage system of New York more. He kept trying to put his hand up my skirt, he also grabbed me every time I got up to use the bog and pulled me down so he could stick his tongue right down my throat. It’s funny how these things had seemed great a week previously after an entire bottle of wine. Now I was pretty sober and pissed off.

HONESTY goes a very long way with me. All the crap about him wanting me to be his girlfriend, how he was missing me during the week (yeah, I know, fingers down the throat) and really all he wanted was me to fit in around the rest of his boy life and have sex with him. Which I would have happily done if he’d explained that. I mean, Fernando is hot, and funny and intelligent but just not emotionally mature enough to stop thinking that women need to be tricked into sex.

He tried so hard to get me to go home with him but in the end I wasn’t just disappointed with him I was properly pissed off. I told him I was going home alone, that I was tired and that I didn’t want to go to his house. I think he thought I was maybe playing some sort of hard to get game as he just kept on manhandling me (as my Mum would say).

We stood on my doorstop and he was just ramming his tongue down my throat and desperately trying to put his hand up my dress. In the end I had to ask him to stand away from the door so I could unlock it without fear of him trying to come in with me. Yes, he got that bad. I asked him when we were going to meet up again? And could he come up with an actual time and stick to it. Then, I said, I would happily come home with him. He didn’t answer the question…….and I’ve not heard from him since.

 

Shit, fuck, bugger, shit!

Just had a message from Steve a buff, tattooed personal trainer. I was supposed to meet him at 9pm tonight at a bar down the road. Instead I’ve been watching Girls in my pjs, drinking tea and eating cake. BOLLOCKS.