Injuries are not so bad when you learn to live with them

Me and William hadn’t seen each other for 8 days.  That isn’t very long, but I had been out of the country, so there was a need on his part to see me, maybe to just check that I was still in one piece.  He picked me up from my office (I have my own office *Squee*!), and it took all my sterness, dominance, and a little bit of willpower to stop him taking me there and then.  As tempting as the thrill of workplace sex was, I didn’t want to upset my supervisor who was in the office next door.

So into the car we get: he is playing with my hair all the way home.  William likes this: he likes playing with mine as a type of foreplay, and he likes me to play with his as part of post-coital cuddles.  We pulled up at my house, straight in, no fuss, clothes off.  Yes, that quickly, like lightning.  I do manage to get a bit of oral though.  The moment his mouth touched my already swelling lips…well, it was like ecstacy.  It was like I had never had it before, as I had been fantasising about this since the last time I saw him.

Foreplay on his part was non existant: he wanted me now.  So he took me.  His cock replaced his mouth and he slid his length into me, stretching me in the most pleasurable way.  As he rocked inbetween my legs, the orgasm was building for both of us, and as we locked lips, I felt him shudder as he came, which was what I needed to tip me over the crest of the wave and come myself.

Unfortunetly, cuddles were cut shorts.  As he pulled out, we discovered there was blood everywhere. I started to panic, wondering what the hell was wrong with me this time when I realised it was William bleeding:

“I thought it hurt a bit when we were doing it, but I decided to just keep going”, he said, trying to clean up the blood.  He had ripped his frenulum, which was bleeding ferociously.  I told him to go and have a shower and clean up, while I sorted out the bed linen and put it to the wash.  Fortunetly, the rip didn’ seem too big, and we hoped it wold heal soon, as one orgasm for 8 days apart isn’t really enough!

William still wanted sex though: in bed later that night he was pulling his best moves on me, but I honestly felt so guilty about the whole thing I turned him down.  What if it started again?  I told him it was best to wait until it was healed completely until we tried again.

But morning light came, as did out need to work on our orgasm tally.  How would we resolve this?

“You could always rub yourself and I could watch?” he suggested.  What an excellent idea.  I didn’t need persuasion.  I got to work straight away, building myself up, turned on by him rubbing himself in front of me.

As I came, he was grinning broadly, but still rubbing himself, somewhat more tenderly than usual.  I asked him if he needed a hand (no pun jokes!).  He got up, out of bed and stood before me, his cock right in front of my mouth.  I circled the tip with my tongue and gripped the base with my hand and rubbed it tightly.  I took as much of his length as I could into my mouth, and worked his cock, moving my mouth and my hand together in tandem until I felt his come hit the back of my mouth.

Then we had time for cuddles.

Girl with a one track mind

My friend J who I have mentioned previously have patched up our friendship of late, and seem to be back to the way things were when she was an independent woman and not under the thumb of her controlling, possessive, jealous ogre of a boyfriend.  Ok, so she’s still with him, but nobody’s perfect.  Anywho, she gave me the book of the above title the other day.  Now being a student with hardly any time to myself I doubted I’d have chance to read it, but I can’t put it down!  It’s pretty damn good.  I may review it when I’ve read it, even though the majority of the U.K. population have probably read it already!

Onto MEN.  Yes, real men, not boys.  Well, boys are included in this topic, only to point out how inferior they are to MEN.

Guy is being….well, a guy.  After bumping into him purely accidentally at the weekend, he suggested we be friends, start at the beginning and see how it goes.  I was dubious to be honest.  Friends is fine, I hate making enemies out of something as trivial as a break-up, but what if we discovered AGAIN that we are incompatible?  Anywho, he invited me out to lunch earlier this week.  It went fine (I turned up late. I recommend this trick to  any woman, as the man will look relieved when you turn up to find you haven’t stood him up, even if you are just ‘friends’), and at the end I casually said that we should do lunch again some time, expecting him to just reply with a half-hearted ‘yeah, ok’.  Nope, instead he said ‘how about Friday?’  Wow.  Unexpected.  But not jumping ahead of myself here, just because he said he wanted to see me so soon afterwards means nothing at all in a man’s/boy’s mind.

Progress on the Spaniad front is slow.  I have seen him every day this week, and every day i have swooned and gone jelloid and blushed like a schoolgirl I expect.

Students: A different species

I seem to notice a recurring trend throughout the male students I seem to fall for: they always come up with the ‘I’m so busy, I can’t give you the time you deserve’ phrase/excuse.

I know you may all think I’m crazy, but last week Guy told me he still felt the same way about me, and that we should give it a go, a proper go.  He offered to take me out for a meal, and we did.  The night was brilliant, I was really happy, actually, I had good fun.  He seemed really happy too, wanting to know when he could see me next.  So we parted having a nice night, good food, him meeting my housemates and getting on with them.  And then nothing.  Until four days later when he stopped things dead with a text message, with the excuse I mentioned above.

It’s annoying to say the least, for him to go to so much effort, for him to just have a freak out over his work load and do that.  But…not really bothered :S yeah, it sucks, cause he doesn’t even want to be friends now, but I can’t be doing with people who have Barry Syndrome.  If he comes to his senses and wants to be friends again, then fine, but apart from that, life carries on as normal.

So….continuing on the students theme.  If I’ve had two (sort of) boyfriends who use this excuse (or as one of them) is there any point in pursuing another student?  To be more precise, a PhD student?  Cause they are a certain breed of student, always working, and most likely to throw me that line of reasoning for not forming any type of relationship.  He is very cute though.  I think I’ve developed a thing for foreigners, as he is Spanish.  Normally I can go up to guys and just generally say ‘hi, how are you?’ (a la Johnny and Guy) but he has a presence, and is super intelligent, so I tend to go a tad jellyoid around him.

*Sigh* We shall see….

Life blog

I haven’t felt like sharing my fantasies of my time I’d hoped to spend with Johnny next year, as his travel blog keeps me pretty much informed on his, er, antics.  And not just travel.  I know we’re technically not a couple, but I honestly thought it would take longer than three weeks before he’d forget about me and start chatting up pretty Chinese women.

Ok, so nothing happened.  She didn’t speak English, he doesn’t speak Mandarin.  She gave him her number though, and there was music play-age and ‘lustful glances’.  Only a matter of time before he goes the whole hog with someone, no?

I’m not naive (maybe a little….perhaps just extremely optimistic).  I kinda gathered that something like this would happen, as he’s meeting loads of new people.  Still hurts when it does though.  Part of my mid-year resolution was to stop over-analysing men.  So whilst I could conclude that he exaggerated the events to impress male friends back home, I won’t.  It happened, big deal.  Take the hint LS and carry on dear.

This week has been exceptionally shit.  My university doesn’t recognise me as being on a postgrad course, and the admin people are either experiencing bad days, like me, or are bitchy, also like me.  Either way, they’re pissing me off, especially when they can’t find my bank details to pay me, but they can magically find them to take my rent out.

Today I was so close to packing it all in, saying ‘screw it, I’ll get a job’, as combined with that Johnny thing, has just tipped me over the end.  But, as they say, patience is a virtue.  I have been offered a PhD in New Zealand.  But I need my MSc to actually fulfill the offer.  So….one year of complete stress in a city I hate, at a university I am growing to loathe and I will be free.

I have a feeling my blog will become a life blog slash anti-men blog soon enough!  Oh, and I had such fantasies to share with you all…..

Actually, on a lighter note, has anyone been to see RocknRolla yet?  Phwoar, is all I can say, phwoar.  I had a few fantasies about Gerard Butler and Tom Hardy the other night, both at the same time!

Thinking of me, thinking of you

I’ve been lucky enough to speak to Johnny every day since he left the U.K. even if is only for a short time each time.  Time differences mean that as I’m getting up in the morning, it’s the afternoon there.  He’s now off exploring in remote regions so I’m not sure when I’ll hear from him again.  But I’ll be strong!  It’s the little snippets of conversation we have that I replay in my head that keeps me going when I have weak moments.

I would put a link to his blog on here, but then he’d know that I am LS, and maybe he wouldn’t like it :s but take it from me, the latest entry made me cry!  He misses me, and has been thinking about me whilst he’s over there.  Which is good now all he has to do is to think about me for the next 10 months!

Fantasising about next summer already, but not enough to form a proper story yet.  Give it a few more days/weeks

Time zones

Time zones suck.  I’ve just gone online, Johnny was on, started talking and he had to go, cause is half past midnight in China and he’s still got jet-lag from yesterday.  It sucks!

Miss him

I’m a soppy cow

Decadence Part 2

I feel really bad, as I want this to be an account of my time with Johnny before he jets off on his fantabulous holiday. But unfortunately it seems sleep in between these two parts has left me hazy on events :S I will endevour to try my best however!

• So I left you last time with me and Johnny basking in post-orgasmic bliss. I was still up for more, But Johnny needed time to recover. Perfect timing for pillow talk! We talked about me and him, how I actually developed the balls to tell him how I felt (or, to put it correctly, just kiss him. I always think the direct approach is best), and how he thought I fancied someone else, and that I would never like him. We also talked about what to do next year: he will reach Australia sometime in May, but I will still be studying, so we decided to wait until he’s settled down and I’ll go over and visit him. This is, of course, dependent on him not meeting someone else who he’ll fall madly in love with. He doesn’t want me to put my life on hold for him, but he said he’ll stay in touch as often as he can. He also seems to think I’ll meet someone else, hence the not putting life on hold. This may sound completely daft, but due to me actually getting it right when I thought he fancied me, I think that perhaps he is more afraid of me forgetting about him, than him meeting someone else. Judging from how he was with me that morning, I think he really REALLY likes me. And I’m hoping that the following events will cement me in his memory:

After much pillow talk, he leaned over me and whispered ‘I want you again’ in my ear. Both of us were lying on our sides, and I tossed my leg over his, pulling him to me, kissing him. There’s nothing like a man saying he wants you to turn you on. But this time I was in charge. I straddled him, kissing him and slowly working my way down, via his neck and nipples, which I gave a gentle nip with my teeth. I teased him slightly as I got closer towards his cock, by starting kissing his knees and working up again. Finally, I stopped teasing him and licked the entire length of his cock, swirling around the tip, stroking the underneath with my tongue before taking the entire length in my mouth. My left hand stroked his balls whilst I slowly licked his cock in very languid strokes. I could feel him twitch in my mouth, and I could tell he was enjoying it so I stopped and positioned myself above him, and he thrust upwards to meet my downwards movement. I rode him like this for a short time, before I pulled him up so he was sitting up and I could kiss him. I think it was too much for him, as he lay back down and pulled me down and kissed me, thrusting upwards as I moved down on his cock. This felt so good, but I wanted it to be spectacular: I sat upright again, moving my hips in a circular position and fingering that bit between his balls and arsehole, and this was pure bliss for him. I was close to another orgasm, and with his hands on my hips, he was moving me around on his cock as I felt him shudder again beneath me.

Laying down again, catching our breath, looking at him was like looking at someone who’d had an epiphany: He said that that was amazing, that even though he didn’t actually come, he felt loads of pins and needles throughout his whole body, and it was the best thing ever.

So of course, he hadn’t come, and he was like a beast that had been let out of his cage. He told me to lie on my side again, as he entered me from behind. Slowly at first, before grabbing my hip and pounding into me hard, my leg up in the air. I grabbed hold of his hand and moved it to my clit, so both our hands were rubbing profoundly on my clit as he brought me to orgasm. This was a mini orgasm I think, less powerful than the others.

We next went into the doggie position, with me on all fours, and him positioned between my legs. This didn’t last long, as it’s my favourite and most likely to get me off. I was feeling sore from being pounded but at the same time I didn’t want it to stop. He held me as he thrust his cock into me, but not removing it, just swirling his hips around until he came inside me again. He collapsed onto his legs, dragging me with him, so we were sitting on top of each other, but facing away. He wrapped his arms around my front, and I could feel the warm breath on my back, every so often interrupted by his kisses. As I felt his cock slide out of me I literally collapsed on the bed. I was sated (for now) and we resumed our entwined position in bed, him wrapping me up in his arms, and yet more pillow talk. One of the best things (scrap that – it was ALL GOOD! But a nice part) was the attention I got after orgasm: him dragging me closer to him, holding me in his arms, me nestled up resting my head in that nook formed by his chest and arm. The little kisses that he loved so much (he said I kiss just how he wants to be kissed, hence why there was so much of it!). Not always with loads of tongue, little sips of the mouth, with his hand at the back of my head (yum). I told him I liked it like that too. He seemed surprised that such a simple thing is what makes me go weak at the knees for him.

This recovery period was longer than before, partly because *I* needed to recover as well. But he is very good at turning me on. I want to know where men learn to do the whole kissing of the neck so well tehcnique, including licking. Because it’s just fantastic. Is there a handbook? Anywho, I was so turned on again, I quite forcefully made him lie on his back and went down on him again, this time, intending to go for gold. I could hear him swearing under his breath, and occasionally taking my head in his head and moving my mouth up and down his cock how he liked it. I thought he was going to come, but then nothing. Then he called my name, and I stopped what I was doing, thinking I’d done something wrong, but all his said was ‘ride me’. I must have looked puzzled: I mean, blow jobs were my specialty! It was then he explained that he’d never actually come from a blow job before, he didn’t know why, but it did feel really good. ‘But I know what feels better’, he said, meaning he wanted me on top again.

This was slower, more relaxed than my previous outing on top with him. I felt in control, as I was on top, but at the same time, just as vulnerable (if that makes sense) as him, as we were face to face, both of us feeling the intensity of the movements I made. I held the back of his head in my hand so I could lift his head up slightly to kiss me. It felt good, but not enough to bring us to orgasm (too many perhaps?) and we shifted positions again, with him on top. I think it was here that he went down on me, but I can’t be sure! Sorry, but I did warn you I was hazy on the timing of events. Anywho, he kissed his way down my body, and I knew what was coming next, something I’d been longing for in all honesty. He swirled his tongue around my clit, alternating with upwards and downwards strokes. Then he stretch the skin to expose my clit even more, which was pure bliss. I was buckling under his mouth and I could feel my come trickling down me into his mouth. Then he stopped and I pulled him up so I could kiss him. I said ‘you taste of me’, to which he replied with just a smile, and positioned his cock at my pussy again. This was more ferocious, and I had misjudged where my head was in relation to the headboard, so it banged against it as he pounded me. But he placed his hand on the top of my head to stop my head hitting the board. With his other hand he lifted my leg up, so he could enter me even further. I love that, so it didn’t take long to tip me over the edge again!

He wanted me on all fours again but as he pulled out of me and I got up he had this expression on his face that read ‘actually, I can’t wait that long for you to turn around, I want you NOW!’ and pulled me down onto of him so he was sitting up, with his legs bent, and I was on top, using the bottom of his bed as leverage to rock us both to the peak of pleasure. My legs started to ache, so he flipped me over and entered me from behind again. This was the quickest orgasm of our session, a few powerful thrusts and we were both coming all over the place. As we returned to our previous position of us kneeling down with me on top, his heavy breathing on my back, I could feel the come from both of us trickle down between us.

We lay back down in bed, his head resting once more on my chest, his arms wrapped around me, my arms wrapped around him, our legs entwined. I ran my hands through his hair, kissed his forehead, and stroked his back once more. My hand wandered down his back to find the dimples where his back ends and his buttocks start. I swear, there isn’t an ounce of fat on that man, he’s pure muscle. I was intrigued by his back: so muscly and toned, I wanted a better look. I told him to lie on his front, and I straddled him and gave him one of my back rubs (reserved only for the very special people in my life), mainly so I could admire his back, but also to give him something back after all that hard work he put into making me come so often (although he did say he loved making me so wet!). He relaxed even more, closing his eyes, as I massaged his buttocks, his back, shoulders and finally his arms. I started to plant kisses on his back, but my hair (which was a mess by this point) tickled him, which resulted in me pinning him down and tickling him. But he is deceptively strong, and somehow he managed to wriggle round and pin me down. He just held me, so close. We fell into a sort of sleep, not for long, but I managed to catch a glimpse of him sleeping – so gorgeous. I feel asleep with his arms around me.

When I woke, I saw him looking at me with sleepy eyes, and a smile on his face. He stroked my cheek with his thumb and kissed me. Then what I didn’t want to hear:

‘I don’t want you to go, but I really need to pack. And besides, the longer we spend together, the harder it will be to say goodbye’.

I knew this moment would come, but it came too soon. It always does, doesn’t it? I crept closer to him, pressing so close to him, as he hugged me so tightly. We were both sad that this was the last time for about 10 months we’d be able to do this.

I broke from the embrace first, deciding to be strong, determined not to cry or be anything but happy for him that he was going on the trip of his dreams. We got dressed, and I saw my reflection and thought ‘oh God!’ when I saw my hair. Johnny went to get me a comb.

As we walked to the door, we clung to each other, hugging and kissing. He told me not to put my life on hold for him, and to study hard, make him proud! And I said I’d see him next summer, as long as he doesn’t meet his future wife, of course. To this he replied that I might meet someone else.

Both options are possible. But (and I know I sound daft) he isn’t the type of person to go off on one night stands, so this I’m not worried about, and even if he does, well…we’re technically on hold, so I can’t complain. And he won’t be staying in one place long enough to develop a relationship with anyone, so I am clinging to the possibility that this time next year I will be back in his arms (aren’t I soppy?). But no, I’m not going to put my life on hold, in case it all goes tits up. I’m staying busy, trying new things, carrying on with the hobbies that both Johnny and I love doing, so I can go ‘Ha! Look! I’m a black belt before you are!’ and so on and so forth. I’m not going to stay at home, waiting for an email every night. But I will look forward to next summer so much.

Today I’ve been emotional. I was thinking to myself ’24 hours ago I was with him’. And almost instantly I got a text from him saying that he was thinking the same thing. I’m sad that he’s going but I’m looking forward to seeing all the pictures of these gorgeous places he’s going to, and telling him about MY adventures, even if they are restricted to this country. I ache from all the sex yesterday, but I don’t want the aching to go away, I want it to stay, as a reminder as it were. I’m scared also of being hurt. But my mom said something to me today: she gave him a picture of me years ago for him to scan into the computer so it could be blown up and given to my nan, who at the time was short sighted. Apparently he just looked at my photo and was speechless, and was just breathtaken by it (sorry, I don’t mean to sound vain here, just going on what I was told). But he hadn’t met me at that point. Then this summer, I started working for him.

Yeah, I’m scared of being hurt. But I’m also very excited about what could be.

Deep darkness

I mentioned earlier that other stuff has been going on in my life, deep, dark stuff. After my nan died, and Barry wasn’t there for me, I needed someone, anyone, so turned to counseling. I had about 3 months of counseling, and now I’ve been discharged (I like to think I’m now ‘sane’ lol). The reason for needing counseling was simply because I felt I had no one to turn to, and I’d never felt so down in my life before. The smallest thing would set me off.

Apart from learning to deal with my grief, one of the topics my counsellor went over was relationships (ideal timing, no?), past and present (initially I was still with Barry, but she made me realise that what he did was wrong, and although she didn’t force me, made me see sense as to Barry’s mentality to our relationship). The main relationship we focused on was my 21 month relationship with a man in my first years at uni. He won’t have an alias. I can’t bring myself to give him one. He can be given a ‘You-Know-Who’ alias, Harry Potter style.

So basically, I knew that he treated me like shit. He was violent on more than one occasion. I remember once we were in a public place and we were arguing because he wanted some money (something he always wanted, even though he had a job, and me living off of my student loan. I usually gave in) and I didn’t want to. He grabbed my neck and raised his fist telling me to shut up. This was in public, surrounded by people. No one came over and pulled him off of me or asked if I was ok, they just turned a blind eye. That’s when I the mentality set in that I deserved this. There was just one other time that he was violent, when he was angry at me for some reason, I don’t even know why, and he threw me into the car, seriously injuring my leg. The scars were still visible when I met Barry, several months after we had broken up.

He was devious. He used my weaknesses against me ‘in the name of love’. I don’t open up to people often, he is the reason why. I told him one of my deepest, darkest secrets, that I used to have bulimia, about 18 months into our relationship, which is when it started to unravel. He used this against me, telling me what I could and couldn’t eat, saying I was fat, and at times, actually starving me for anything up to 24 hours. It was literally torture.

Then there was the constant criticism: you’re stupid, you’re driving’s terrible, you look like crap, why haven’t you got more make-up on? Or, you have too much make-up on, you look like a slag. Or his favourite, telling me what to wear.

Even sex was more like a chore than an enjoyment. It was when he wanted it, how he wanted it, and if he finished before me, then that’s my problem.

Why didn’t I do something about it? Like I said, months of him working up to this, gnawing away at my self-confidence to the point where I thought I deserved this and this was what love is like and I couldn’t do any better. It wasn’t until he cheated on me that I stood up and paid attention. I knew I was better than this.

My counsellor looked as if she needed counselling after I finished! But in a way, telling her has made me realise that everything he did was a form of abuse, not just the odd violent attacks. It makes me sad to think I was so weak at one point. It’s also sad that any guy who pays me a compliment is instantly ‘a nice guy’ just by comparison. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. A compliment is still a compliment.

So, this is my deepest darkest post I think. I message to anyone who reads it that abuse isn’t just a fist in the face.

Barry and moving on

I met up with Barry yesterday.  This was after him going ‘I want to see you’ followed by ‘Oh, but I’m busy then, how about then?’ and then canceling.  We just met up for a drink at the pub for a bit to chat about everything.  It was good to see if I still felt anything when I saw him.  I saw him walk into the pub ahead of me, and I did sort of look up and think ‘yeah, he;s good looking’…but then I thought about everything else, the person he is behind the good-looking exterior.  And I didn’t feel anything.  He’s just a friend, a person I knew, I person I thought I knew.

So we talked for about an hour, mostly him talking about himself.  Things don’t change, even when you break up.  He never used to ask me how my day was when we were going out, why change now?  The only thing he asked about was my Oxford application (I’ll mention that later), as sort of a side-note, but he still managed to turn the conversation around to him.

I don’t mind talking to him about his life.  But, call me selfish, I like to talk about myself too, about what’s going on in my life, my problems, not just him, or whoever I’m talking to.  That’s something I picked up on with my time with Barry.  He’s quite willing to talk about himself, his day, how it sucked, how it went great.  But when it comes to anyone else, he doesn’t care.  My nan springs to mind:  when I was dealing with her death and all he could say was ‘I can’t deal with this right now, I’ve got more important things to do, talk to someone else’.  All these things came to mind as we sat there, and I realised something: I deserve better.  Barry’s a nice guy.  Shame that he can’t see past his own nose.

About the Oxford application.  It’s not happening this year.  My tutor wrote a damning reference saying that I should do an MSc first before starting a PhD, so Oxford have ‘advised’ me to stay where I am, and apply next year.  No loss, it’s only a year.

ShyGuy (I really must think of a better name for him!) and I talk daily.  Not in a girlfriend/boyfriend kind of way, and certainly not in lengthy conversations every day.  Somedays it’s just a few texts, asking about my day, sometimes it’s proper conversations on MSN, but just as friends.  I think that perhaps he is a nice guy, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions.  Maybe when we return to uni after summer, we can get to know each other a bit better.  But strictly as friends, to start off with.  I’d rather him know who my closest friends are, and what my favourite colour is by the second date, than what my favourite position is.

Other stuff has been going on in my life, deep, dark, heavy stuff.  I will save that for another post!

Results day

I GOT A 2:1! Am so ecstatic.  I even got a text from Barry congratulating me and saying he’d like to see me before the end of term.

This is me, being ecstatic

:D:D:D:D:D:D

Am also jumping around a lot, causing injury as I crashed into the kitchen door

So yeah….Undergrad degree all done!