Baby, Can I Hold You

Playlist

May 22, 2025

sex

Do you have a Getting it On playlist? Or whatever phrase that’s cooler than ‘getting it on’?

I never used to. But I created a playlist recently because I am obsessed with one particular song. Her voice, it gets to me. But then I started thinking there are particular songs that I’d probably add to such a list. More so because the songs remind me of times I’ve had sex as opposed to the songs that get me in the mood.

Video Games by Lana del Rey

This is the song I’m currently obsessed by. Her sultry voice does things to me. But especially the way she sings ‘It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you’ that really speaks to the passion that I’ve had for people. Both currently and in the past. I feel like it’s a lyric that I relate to very strongly. And it’s just a sexy song. I heard you like the bad girls, honey is that true? is another favourite lyric.

I’m On Fire by Bruce Springsteen

This one is a weird one. Because in an erotic book I read years ago – that I loved, about a MF couple that live out his cuckolding fantasy by bringing in another man – the main female character says that this song gets her aroused immediately and it’s a trigger in the book that this new sexual adventure is about to start for them.

Tell me now, baby, is he good to you?
And can he do to you the things that I do?

But… I’ve had personal experience with this song. A recent hookup wanted to put on his own sexy playlist while we were having sex. Thankfully, I cannot recall any of the music played during the actual act. But in the comedown, I noticed that the song playing was a cover version of this song. Except the cover was not great. It sounded like a sanitised version, no grit to their voice. It was like they removed all the sexiness from the song and left the shell of a song in its place. I cringed listening to it and I definitely judged the hookup for having such a terrible song on his playlist.

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

Wicked Game, the Chris Isaak version is objectively a very sexy song. I’ve loved it as long as I’ve known of it and I love his voice. There’s something in it. The lyrics, the music, the sound of his voice.

The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you
It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do

But I was in Manchester a few years ago visiting a friend for a supposed sexy weekend and he’d the room with his playlist still on and a cover version of Wicked Game came on … and I couldn’t wait for him to return (from the kitchen, getting us both a drink) and yelled into the hallway – ‘What IS this version of this song?!’ and when he came back he said he preferred his version, by Stone Sour, to the Chris Isaak version. And I did not know what to do with that information.

Blinding Lights by The Weeknd

You don’t even have to do too much
You can turn me on with just a touch, baby

I was fairly nervous having my first threesome (I still hope to tell you about that sometime) and I was sitting on their sofa and she suggested some music. She asked me if I had any preferences and when I said ‘no’ she put an album by The Weeknd on repeat.

…And I can’t tell you that I noticed any of the songs. The music. None of it. During that entire experience I was completely and utterly oblivious to anything going on that wasn’t her, to be honest.

It’s only after because when we were all finished, she asked me if I liked The Weeknd and I said ‘of course’ but I said it in a way like I’d have said ‘yes’ to anything because I was so in my own head at that point that very little was getting through to me. I needed to process.

But after that? After that day, whenever I come across anything by The Weeknd I do a little smile and think of how great it all was.

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Best Date Ever

May 21, 2025

dating, relationships

As I mentioned it in an earlier post, I thought today I’d share my favourite date ever. I’m in my 40s and my favourite date ever happened when I was 17. How has it still not been topped?

I was dating a man that would soon go on to become my (now ex) husband. He suggested one day, earlyish in the morning that we visit this large bookstore nearby. Because it was on the other side of the town where I lived and because I relied on public transport, it wasn’t a bookstore I’d visited before. And it was massive. The moment we got there I wandered off in a daze, hypnotised by the rows and rows of books.

My date and I cobbled together this plan where we’d gather up a bunch of books and then find a corner to share them with each other. We both had piles of books with us. Some of them were our favourite books – books we read as children, some of them books we’d read as young people, and we shared what we loved about them. Some of the books were poetry books and we’d choose random poems to read aloud to each other. One of us had found a trivia book. He’d grabbed collections of urban legends and books of folktales from other cultures and he’d read out shorter stories. We found several different books that asked ‘what if?’ questions or other more general getting to know you questions. We were still new in our relationship and in that phase where everything new we learned about each other was precious.

And we spent hours in this corner, talking and laughing. Surrounded by books. Sometimes we’d take turns going for other books, but that was the only break in conversation. There was just so much to say to each other, so much to share. We talked until we were both starved.

Luckily, there was a cafe connected to this bookstore and we ordered ham and cheese croissants and crisps, fizzy drinks. And ate our food pulling apart the croissants into strips, the pastry flaking everywhere. Sharing the bags of crips, our fingers brushing against each other as we tried each other’s drinks and just generally used any excuse to touch each other.

He’d seen that there was a collection of board games that people could play in the cafe. After some debate we settled on Scrabble and I felt gleeful at this very much being my game. But he surprised me with how strategically he was using the double and triple letter and word scores. My vocabulary was better but luck was on his side as he always had just the right letters and just the right number of spaces to maximise his points. When it looked certain he had decimated me he relented and told me he had cheated. That there was no way he could win without it so while I was concentrating so much on my tiles and word choice he had swapped his tiles, had moved letters and words across the board.

And it’s such a testament to my interest in him that I thought this too was adorable. It helped that he said he’d cheated because he wanted to impress me. And he had this mischievous grin and these big brown eyes that I really couldn’t be mad at him. Not for long anyway. We held hands as we left. I don’t remember what we did after that and I don’t remember any of other dates being as wonderful as that one. But decades later I still think of it fondly as one of the best days and dates I’ve had.

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On Dating

May 20, 2025

dating

Last weekend, and I guess most weekends, I’ll be invited to go out on dates. Often these invitations are from strangers that have seen my name online and are trying their chances, or people I’ve matched with on dating apps. Rarely it is people I’ve met previously but those have a much higher likelihood of a positive response.

Lately I’ve realised that I go through phases of being burnt out by dating. Sometimes it feels like a lot of effort. In the early stages of conversation, trying to work out enough about a person to determine if they’re worth the time spent. Getting to know each other, travelling to a date, getting ready for a date. Sitting through a date. Making conversation.

A lot of times I’ll have one dud of a date after another. And the disappointment after each boring date takes an emotional toll. I hate getting my hopes up or feeling excited about meeting a person for there to be no chemistry. No natural flow to conversation. For their online personality to be interesting and engaging but dull in person.

Last weekend and actually every time I get invited to a date lately the process I go through to determine whether or I say ‘yes’ or not is that I ask myself one thing:

Would I prefer to go on this date or would I prefer to stay at home in bed with my dog?

If I’m genuinely excited to meet this person, to spend time with them and I’m not initially grumbling about lost free time or whatever, then I say ‘yes’ and start to make plans.

But if I think …I’d really like to finish watching season three of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with my dog snoring pressed against my leg in bed? Then it’s a polite ‘no thank you’ as I reach for my remote control.

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Realisations

May 19, 2025

relationships

I met someone online many years ago. It was in an old school chatroom and I had decided that I needed to find a place to escape for awhile. My dad had just been diagnosed with a serious illness that he wouldn’t recover from and it felt like my entire life was massively off-kilter all of a sudden.

I was talking in the main part of the chatroom about the best date I’d ever been on. I wasn’t getting the type of attention that I thought I should about such an adorable story so I was really glad when this person sent me a private message to discuss it further. He loved the story too and we ended up talking about books and poetry for about an hour before he had to leave.

I remember thinking later that it was the best conversation I’d had in awhile. We hadn’t discussed a single thing personal. I didn’t know his name, where he lived, how old he was. I knew nothing about him. Not even if he’d return or if we’d have another conversation. But the following day, at a different time of day he logged in again when I was there and we just very naturally continued threads of our previous conversation. It felt like there was so much to say between us. Again one of us left, and we hadn’t spoken about anything personal. Or talked about meeting in the chatroom again. It felt like we were just leaving it to chance.

A day went by, two. I didn’t see him. I thought, what a wonderful conversation and thought very little of it. Until I saw him again. And that day we talked about music. Or films. Or life. I remember I’d say things to him that I wouldn’t say to others. Things I had been thinking about. I asked him what he thought about death. If he had regrets. And he asked me questions too. The question that sticks out the most for me is that early on he asked me ‘are you happy?’ and I said ‘yes’ straightaway.

I was happy. I was married, I had a family. I felt like I had everything that I wanted. Sure, my dad was poorly but on the whole? I’d say happiness was where I was. I asked him if he was happy and I felt really happy that he had said ‘yes’ too, that we were two happy people sharing our thoughts with each other about books, poetry, about life.

And it continued in this way for awhile. We didn’t delve into each other’s lives. I didn’t ask him about his uncertain schedule or the days we didn’t run into each other. He didn’t ask why I was never around on the weekends. Aside from the briefest conversation about our levels of happiness, we only talked about general things. But I looked forward to seeing his name on my screen, I looked forward to hearing his thoughts on anything. I liked the way he responded to me, the way he’d pick up on my word choices, the subtle ways I’d tear myself down.

After we hadn’t heard from each other for two weeks I started to realise that I’d started to rely on him for this connection we had. I realised that I wanted to know more about him. I even realised that I wanted him to know more about me. When I next saw him, I told him that I’d missed him. We talked about our growing attraction to each other. We told each other those missing parts of ourselves that we had avoided discussing. That he was married, that I was married too. That he lived in New York as an English teacher at a private high school.

This knowledge of each other changed very little. We continued having our regular conversations. And I think the thing I loved the most about him is that he felt like the first person that really supported me, that offered real encouragement for me to figure out what I wanted from life, that had this unwavering belief that I could do anything. He was the first person that did everything he could to lift me up, to point out that I was interesting, smart, funny, pretty. That I was also strong, capable. It was intoxicating being around him.

Hearing these nice things about me when I’d grown up in environments where communication relied more on insults, that I was more used to things falling within the destruction of others’ confidence, it was in sarcastic remarks and subtle and not so subtle digs. I realised the difference being around this person. This stranger from far away who could easily tell me that I’m incredible. That I had talent and so much potential. That encouraged me to do the things that I’d put on pause, to have dreams of my own beyond my current small life.

And at the time, with all of this encouragement I remember thinking that it was him. That he was incredible. And he was, in his own way. But actually, the parts of him that I thought were so incredible were just the reflections of myself that I saw in him. I thought he was fucking amazing but what I realised later is that through him that actually it was me that is fucking amazing and he had just held up that mirror for me to see.

And it was in this friendship with this man and all of his support that I realised that I might not be as happy as I thought I was. That maybe I wanted more from my life. To go back to school, to find my space in an actual career. I wanted a bigger, more fulfilling life than the one I had. And I will always be grateful to him for holding up that mirror for me to see.

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Saying ‘Yes’

May 16, 2025

sex

I was going through a phase awhile back where I kept saying ‘no’ to opportunities when the barest whisper of discomfort or a little bit of anxiety crept through. I started to think what am I missing out by saying ‘no’ all the time?

So I decided to start saying ‘yes’ more often. With mixed results, possibly. One of the things that I did say ‘yes’ to was meeting a man who was a professional masseuse for a happy ending massage. It seemed completely out of character for me but I feel like I struggle all the time about an idea of who I am as a person and that that person is mostly sensible and doesn’t take risks and so on. So I wanted to do things differently. And I did.

He was an older man, trained and worked as a masseuse. We got on well within our messaging. Mostly talking about women’s sports following his hobby coaching his daughters’ sports teams. He mostly just seemed quite normal and not scary at all so I felt okay taking this huge risk with him.

We decided to meet up at a local pub near his house first. We ended up having dinner together as we talked more, getting used to each other. Or me, really. He seemed fairly at ease. He talked about how he had gotten into massage. How his work in a hotel in another country led him into some more risque situations and environments. But not in a crude way, his storytelling method seemed more of a ‘isn’t this all quite humourous?’ and that made me comfortable.

After dinner, he asked if I was still interested in a massage? And with just a moment’s hesitation, I said ‘yes’. Nerves kicked in slightly when we got to his place, and he’d laid out the massage table all ready with towels and things. He left the room for me to get undressed with a towel to cover my ass as I laid on my front.

I figured, this is why I’m here, just do it already. So I did. I got naked. Laid on the table. And waited. My breathing was a little off and my heartbeat was racing but I was ready for it. Excited, even. And he didn’t disappoint. He had also undressed and came back in wearing just his underwear. But then he started with the oils and there were moments of the massage where I could just melt into the sensation of it and stopped overthinking it. It became just the delicious pressure against my skin, the feel of these long stokes along my back. My shoulders, my arms.

There’s something so relaxing about a full body massage. And there are very specific erogenous zones on my back and shoulders. I remember thinking this almost feels like a professional massage? Until I could feel his erection brush against me. And it was a million of these little brushes against me, touches that got just a little bit nearer, the tease of it.

What I loved so much about it was how much the anticipation built. It was very steady with the actual massaging, and he gave me just enough glimpses into what more there was that by the time he’d asked me to roll over onto my back I felt fully relaxed, pliant even. I was ready for more. I felt like I was aching for more, that my arousal was at breaking point. Patience is also not something that I feel like I’m very good at.

I kept my eyes closed for most of the massage. Everything already felt so overwhelming with everything going on. But it all felt so good. I wasn’t sure how vocal I would be about my own pleasure. But certain places that his fingers dug into felt amazing. Areas that I didn’t think would feel good being massaged felt great. My thighs, my calves, my hands. He pressed his fingers into the arches of my feet and that nearly ended me.

But I could feel when things were coming to an end. When he was spending more time circling my nipples, my inner thighs. Positioning my legs so that they fell open. And it was welcome. I was very much just arousal and need by this point. My eyes flew open and I gasped when his soft tongue gently stroked up the length of me. I was expecting it and I wasn’t.

And just like he had taken his time stroking my entire body, he took his time with this too. He really seemed to be enjoying himself, taking his cues from the way my breathing changed, the little moans I was making. At one point it felt like he was going to change position and I held his head in place, keeping him where I wanted him, and with the pressure I needed.

If anything, I sort of wish now that I’d just ended things there. That I pulled myself together enough to roll off the table, get dressed and tell him thank you for such a nice evening. But I didn’t. I felt so … relaxed and happy and giving, I guess. That I ended up asking if he had a condom. I hadn’t needed to do that, we hadn’t discussed it going any further than we’d done.

But he got up, took my hand and led me to a bed where we fooled around a bit more (he really enjoyed using his tongue and who am I to say ‘no’ to that?) and then somehow he was on top of me, his face in a bit of a grimace, looking like he was in so much pain that I almost stopped him to ask if he was okay. It was blessedly short and despite this part being a bit of a disappointment, we ended up lying on his bed for awhile longer talking about French literature until he walked me back to my car.

I’m mostly glad I said ‘yes’.

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First Steps

May 15, 2025

dating

It took me quite awhile after I separated from my ex husband to actually get out there and start meeting other people. It was a pretty scary thing. I’d met my ex when we were both young, we’d spent the majority of our lives together. To start over again at my age felt like such a huge thing.

So I took my time with it. And when I felt ready I put myself out there. I think the hardest thing for me in the beginning (and it took quite some time to get better at it) is that I started out with some very low confidence, carrying the baggage and weight of things that had been said or done in my long term relationship. I remember thinking (and it becomes a regular thought that pops up every now and again) is if I couldn’t make my marriage work how could I make something else with someone else work? Who is going to want me? What do I even bring to the table in a new relationship? I have no experience with sex or dating how do I even start figuring some of this stuff out?

Very quickly, I ended up talking with this one man that seemed promising. He was very interested in getting to know me. We went for walks. He used to call me 2-3 mornings a week on his way to work and we’d have long conversations in that still getting to know you stage where everything about each other is fascinating.

Crucially, we had sex. It was something that I really worried about. When it happened, it wasn’t anything to write home about. He was probably more selfish sexually than he’d led me to believe but I (mostly) didn’t care. Because it felt like it was this huge hurdle that I was nervous to jump over. But I did. And it was fine. I’d go on to have better (and worse) sexual experiences over time. But the first step? The first step had been taken.

We worked in the same area and had a lot in common. He was patient and kind. He took an interest in me and made me feel like there was more to us. But what got us in the end? We had an argument over a television show. He got very ‘but what about men?’ about the objectification of Aiden Turner in Poldark. I thought we were having a lighthearted debate about it and so I batted back some arguments against his opinion and he took it all very seriously, said I wasn’t being very ‘inclusive’ in my language and eventually when I wouldn’t apologise and wouldn’t back down on what I had said he blocked me. It felt incredibly childish and I remember thinking ‘what even is my life?’

Even so, as much as I laugh about what actually happened, I’m still grateful to have taken that first step. All the steps that I’ve taken since then have been easier but that first step is a doozy.

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Breaking the Rules

May 14, 2025

dating, sex

Have you ever just met someone and ended up breaking all your rules?

I connected with this man awhile back. He seemed ridiculously into my profile. What I’d written, the pictures I’d posted. He was very complimentary in a way that I like the most – where it felt genuine but also not just about my physical appearance. I don’t rate my face that much so when men talk about it I feel a bit disconnected.

We started messaging fairly regularly. Talking about a combination of light, casual things and also more deep, serious things. I need that balance. I remember once I jokingly said I’d enjoy his (very sexy!) pictures more if it was him lounging naked reading a book and he immediately sent me the greatest picture ever of just that. Him in bed, naked with a book propped just in front of him so that I could see his bare chest, his legs, a very sexy look on his face but nothing more intimate. It was tasteful, classy. It delighted me. He delighted me.

He was also just a little bit mysterious. Holding fascinating things about himself close to his chest and dropping little hints like, meet me for coffee or a long shag and maybe I’ll tell you about these things sometime. And I was keen. I definitely wanted to meet him but his availability was poor and it took awhile to make things happen.

We met up in a nearby cafe on a really rainy, stormy day. But in the cafe, it almost felt cosier. Secluded. Safe in a bubble. I had said to him beforehand that he might not be physically attracted to me in person (it’s happened before!) and he said the same about himself. But it would have been difficult not to fancy him in person. He looked …so put together. I know that sounds like a weird description but it really fit him. He had said early on that he kept to good fitness levels for a sporting hobby but also that he was also a bit into the idea of looking good. And he really did.

But he was also really funny and I love funny people. Halfway through our drinks, I asked him what was the last book he read and loved and why? And he started telling me about some historical book that I’d never heard of by an author I was familiar with (but that I hadn’t ever considered what type of books they had written) and I was sort of only half listening as I was more distracted by just watching him. Watching his face light up as he was talking about this book, the way he looked in his jumper, the way the light sort of hit this one spot on his neck.

Then he said still talking about this book he loved ‘maritime regulations state…’ and let me tell you, my sexual attraction peaked in that very moment. There’s just something about nerdiness in a man. Nerdiness of books and reading in a man. And together with the way we’d talked about a whole slew of other things, that he was nice to look at, that he made me laugh. I knew that I definitely wanted to be naked with this man.

So when he suggested a time and date, I said ‘yes’. I noticed after I accepted that I had plans with my book group that evening but I cancelled on them. I felt like these plans were more pressing. And as he and I are talking about plans he (probably jokingly) suggested that I show up at his door in nothing but lingerie. ‘In December?’ I laughed. And a coat, he generously suggested. But it was the huge amount of lust that I had for this man that I thought …why not. I’ll do it. Who needs those rules you have for yourself, right?

And actually, I felt quite sexy dressing in my lingerie and coat and driving to his place. It felt like a turn on to be doing something so out of the ordinary for me. I liked the idea of him being into it. I liked feeling sexy. …Until Google Maps said I’d arrived and I couldn’t obviously spot where any of the houses were. I could see nothing but a row of garages. I wanted to live out the sexy scenario of knocking on his door how I was dressed. But in the end I called him. Said I’m lost, please come out and find me.

It didn’t feel quite so sexy walking 10 minutes from where I’d parked my car through a maze of paths to his place, shivering the entire time. Me thinking, what’s sexy about bare legs in the winter? Why did my coat have to be this thin? Layers, folks. Layers are sexy.

Things were a bit better when we get into his warm house. His living room was cosy and warm and I stood there slightly awkwardly as he went off to get me a drink. I needed a minute to compose myself anyway. When he came back, he gave me a hug and that’s always the perfect antidote. Hugs make everything better.

And after I had feeling in my legs again we did end up in his bed. And it was nice. He had questionable taste in music but I would say a nice time was had. Perfectly adequate. And that’s as generous as I can be with him. Because after he went to tidy up, he gave me the first hint that he’d like for me to go. I thought ‘that’s weird’ but didn’t think much more of it. Until he said he was probably going to this thing in about 45 minutes. And he said it a little pointedly. So at this point I’m starting to question things a bit. And eventually he just outright says ‘if you’re hoping for round 2, you’re out of luck’ or something to this effect. And so, after three very blatant attempts at kicking me out, I get my shoes on and leave.

Thankfully, I thought ahead and threw in a dress and a pair of leggings into my bag. Messaged my book group that I’d meet them for dinner after all. Sometimes those rules are in place for a reason and sometimes I need to remember that.

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Meeting Him

May 13, 2025

dating

As I hinted at in this post, I didn’t always say ‘no’ when the actual sexiest person I’ve ever encountered asked me to meet him. There was some definite hesitance on my part. At the time I was still married, as was he. But one day I was in a particularly low patch with my (now) ex husband that I said to him, let’s do this. Are you free on Tuesday? And he was.

Because I’m me, I put restrictions on him. I asked him for however long we were together that he make no sexual comments, that he do nothing sexual. I told him I was already on the very brink of changing my mind and cancelling that I couldn’t face any additional pressure from him that anything could or would happen. I took the possibility off the table long before we met.

We were to meet in a bookstore in a town local to me. Fairly early in the morning. Like, earlier than I’d normally expect to meet someone. I was a ball of nerves beforehand and I sent some panicked messages to my best friend who talked me down from the ledge. I got to the bookstore early and very nervously hung around the front of the store, always facing the door, looking out for him.

The very second he walked in the door my heartbeat started racing, I feel like I had problems breathing. I remember thinking this is a fucking great way to start – flailing before we’ve properly met. The moment he walked in the door he pulled out his phone and sent me a message. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show off his sexy forearms.

He was taller than I expected when I walked up to him to say ‘hello’ and I noticed he smelled good when he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. I was clearly nervous and probably said so straightaway but he only grinned and took over the conversation. Asking if I’d been browsing long, asking if there was anything that I found interesting. It was the right call, and I ended up talking about a non-fiction book that I was interested in (that I still don’t have a copy of and have never read).

We browsed for a bit but ended up in a cafe close by where I ordered a hot chocolate that I don’t particularly like drinking unless I’m poorly or it’s Christmas but I felt like I needed something comforting. Luckily, some of my nerves had worn off and we ended up having a good conversation while he had our drinks. He told me about being in the army, about an idea he had about a book he wanted to write involving chess.

In fact we had such a good time talking that we carried on talking through browsing again at Waterstones where he bought a ‘thank you’ gift for a friend that had hosted him the previous weekend. We wandered into some other shops on the High Street including one home store where he let slip that he likes canning vegetables which I thought was the most fascinating and adorable thing.

There were definitely times that I felt shy around him. I was still particularly nervous around tall men at that time. But I liked his confidence, the sure way he walked and moved. His eyes were the prettiest shade of blue and his gaze was quite intense when he focused on me. He seemed a bit self conscious of his teeth being slightly crooked but I loved when he forgot that and did a full smile anyway.

We talked for so long that we had to stop for a late lunch. I don’t always feel comfortable eating in front of someone new but he made it easier by eating so focused on his own food (and a lot of it) that he barely even glanced up to see what I was doing with my own food.

It was just so nice to spend time in his company. This man that had inspired fantasies and gave me such a confidence boost when I felt like such a frumpy housewife. He didn’t touch me at all during the day we spent except to kiss my cheek hello and goodbye. But there was enough in the way he looked at me, the attention he gave me that I knew without my guidance that there couldn’t be anything sexual that there would have been something sexual between us.

He sent me a message almost straightaway after we’d said goodbye as I was walking back to my car. It said ‘your arse looks great in that dress’ and I gasped when I read it and turned back to see if he was still stood there watching me walk away from him but he wasn’t.

I sent him a message later saying that I thought we should meet again sometime soon, and that next time there should be no restrictions. He agreed. But his work got busy shortly after that and he had very little free time to meet. But we carried on messaging. Sometimes for hours at a time. It always started off with a heavy sexual nature and somehow it evolved into talking about everything. Life, music, the decisions we’ve made. Canning vegetables and books.

I definitely felt a lot for him and eventually he sent me a message to say that he felt the same towards me. And that he had reached a crossroads where he had to make a decision to carry on the way he was going or to dedicate himself to his wife and their marriage. So he made his choice and we never met or messaged again.

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Communication Is Key

May 12, 2025

sex

I thought today I’d return to a theme and talk about some communication fails I’ve experienced recently. Good communication is so important, I honestly cannot stress that enough.

Experience 1

One of the first men I met after I started putting myself out there following my separation was this lovely man. When he and I started messaging the main points that we both raised were that we were busy people who were missing physical intimacy. So impulsively we agreed to meet up and scratch that itch for each other, so to speak.

He was a good looking man. He hadn’t mentioned it but it was obvious that he used to weigh a lot more and that he’d lost a lot of weight in a short period of time. I wonder in hindsight if that played some part in a lack of confidence in him?

He had an easy smile and I felt quite comfortable with him very quickly. It helped that when I licked his earlobe and almost sucked it into my mouth he let out the biggest gasp of pleasure I’ve ever heard. It does things to me to find out things that turn on other people.

But communication. We were in the middle of the sex when all of a sudden he pulled right out of me, left the room and 30 seconds later I heard the shower running in his ensuite. …And I was left naked lying on his bed wondering wtf just happened?

When he came out of the shower, he seemed to want to get right back to where he’d left off. But obviously that wasn’t going to happen without some explanation. And that’s when he told me, belatedly, that he has a mild form of OCD and finds the idea of his own sweat a trigger.

We’re all busy people, but we’re not too busy to relay some important information to our sexual partners. It was in the middle of summer and we were having sex where sweat could reasonably be expected to happen.

Experience 2

Fast forward a few months and I had another experience where communication was not at its best. This man was full of energy. When I met him he immediately made me think of an excitable puppy. Constant movement in an adorable way.

Physically he was very different to anyone I’d been with before. While he obviously worked out and was in good shape, his body frame also seemed rather slight. Together with him also being about my height, next to him, I felt large. Wide.

Thankfully my own self consciousness did not hinder us getting on with what we were both there for. And he went about all the foreplay with some gusto. He enjoyed kissing. And playing with my breasts. He was definitely a man that enjoyed giving oral and I vocalised my pleasure at his attentions. When I positioned myself to return the favour and give him oral, he lasted about 45 seconds before he said anymore of that and we won’t end up doing anything else. So we moved onto penetrative sex.

And afterwards, he asked me what I enjoyed the most. I’m sure I blushed when I said ‘the oral’ and (communication fail) he heard what he wanted to hear. So when he was ready again he asked if I wanted more? I thought he meant me receiving more so I said ‘yes’ only to be very surprised when he straddled my face and he shoved himself into my mouth at the most uncomfortable angle ever.

In the end I had to physically push him off me.

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Oh My God

May 9, 2025

dating, sex

I had an experience the other day that prompted me to send a voice note to a friend that just said ‘Oh my god … oh my god. Oh my god. I don’t even know what to say, just … oh my god’ And my poor friend ended up writing back, Are you okay? Are you safe? Which, fair. There a lot of different ways to interpret that bizarre voice note.

Let me start at the beginning.

I have this person in my life. I’ve written about him before and there’s something about him that seems to be equal parts frustrating and can’t get enough of him for me. We met, I immediately wanted more. He still does not want more from me. But we have the most insane sexual chemistry and I know that I 100% will end up hurt whenever our situationship comes to an end but I’m still hoping that when that time comes I’ll have no regrets. We shall see.

We’ve met up many times. After our first date, we met briefly in a Waterstones where he wore this polo shirt that brought out the colour of his eyes in this way that I actually dreamt about him just standing there smiling at me, wearing this light blue shirt. I’m ridiculous. And in the dream and him actually standing in front of him the look was pretty great.

He and I never seem to have great availability with each other. But then we managed to meet up twice in a short period of time for a walk in a nearby park and I discovered that properly kissing him feels like an addiction to me. I love kissing just generally but with him? Good lord. It was fire. Just kissing him had me unravelling. All my inhibitions seemed to have fled me all at once and I became this writhing, needy person. It felt like I was in heat, that I wanted him with this fiery passion. Did I actually end up throwing myself into his lap, grinding myself against his erection, pressing myself as close to him as I could possibly get? Yes, yes I did. Did it happen more than once? Also yes.

After that we went through a period where we didn’t meet for ages. And I thought perhaps all the fire between us burnt out and that’s where things might end? But because we still messaged most days there seemed to be this ‘maybe’ around us. And it happened that things aligned and we met somewhere with a bed. With space to stretch out. To enjoy each other’s nakedness. With more kissing, more touching. All the orgasms. But a thing happened. And it happened twice. That he showed up with no condoms. And I felt like crying both times. Like, here we are, how are we not making the best use of our time? Which isn’t to say that I didn’t enormously enjoy myself. I did. I do every time with him.

He’s very focused on my pleasure so it’s hard not to enjoy myself when my enjoyment seems to be the purpose. But also, there’s a special kind of feeling for me having his cock in my mouth that I actually love. Hearing his pleasure gets me so turned on. As I imagine hearing mine turns him on. But as ever, I always want more.

So by the time this thing happens the other day, I’m almost resigned to the fact that this man will both satisfy me entirely and also leave me wanting at the same time. It’s a fine line to walk but somehow he manages it with such skill. So we’re naked on the bed, and I’m sitting in almost a V position, my legs hooked over his hips, one of my hands on his chest, the other around his neck pulling him in closer for all the kissing. When he pulls away from me to ask, ‘what do you want?’ my reaction is immediate. I lose all the tension in my body, flop down on my bed and with the biggest sigh in the world, say very honestly ‘I’ve never wanted someone to fuck me as badly as I want you to fuck me’

I’m almost amazed at how brazen I am. But it’s been almost a year and it’s never happened. I don’t think I’m unfair at all in what I said, even the dramatic way in which I said it. But he absolutely astonishes me by saying ‘you want me to fuck you? okay’ and gets up to fish a condom out of his jeans pocket. And I swear to you, I feel like I died on the spot. Or at some point in the next however long he fucked me. Because it’s something I’ve thought about for so long. I even wrote poetry about what it would be like to have sex with this man. And the reality of it? The reality of it was a million times better. Every movement he made, every look he gave me, that he turned his head and kissed my calf at one point. Everything about it felt like my entire universe was shifting and we were creating a new reality right there in that spot.

Which is why the moment he walked out of the door, I couldn’t say anything but ‘oh my god’ over and over again. Please god, let it happen again.

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