Baby, Can I Hold You

Wedding Guest

April 17, 2025

sex

Have you ever been so bored with your life that you invite trouble into it?

Towards the end of my marriage when I knew things were over I found myself making choices that probably weren’t great for me. But because I’d already mentally given up, I was sucked into that exhilarating feeling of freedom. Of choices, of possibility. It was intoxicating and I started to seek it out.

I ended up online looking for places where I could talk to people about sex, or fantasies, where people were more open about desire. Naturally, places like that end up being fairly gross with some very questionable people but I feel like as it quite often happens, I end up attracting the right sort of people to me. And that’s how it happened. Where I met him.

This man was pure sex. And sex appeal. He had plenty of interesting things to talk about, he was really engaging and charming. Funny. But the sexiest thing about him was how he saw me. He paid attention and nothing turns me on more. He was also just so clear about his intentions towards me. I lean towards needing reassurance but it was never needed with him. He told me all the time what he thought about me, what he wanted to do together. He was so open about sex that it had me exploring different sexual interests with him and he was so accepting of me as a person. All of me.

I’d say things like I had a dream in which I was having sex with a man. And when I thought about the dream afterward I’d think about the dream as me, as a woman, feeling the pleasure of having sex. Sometimes, I’d think about the dream but would pull away and watch as though out of my body and it was sexy to watch this couple. And then, sometimes I was the man. And at this time I wasn’t that comfortable with my own sexuality, with my own pleasure, with watching, with the idea of playing with sexual norms. But his acceptance of it, the way he found it sexy that I was exploring this made me accept it too.

He was also just really honest with me. It wasn’t a natural thing for him to open up and answer my endless questions about things he would have never considered or given any thought to normally but he did. For me. We talked about infidelity, what it felt like when he met someone new, the rush of new person energy. The way his job made him feel and how meeting women helped ease something in him that was created by his stressful, uncertain job. The way he opened up to me was such an aphrodisiac. I love the closeness it brings, the intimacy of sharing yourself with another person.

At the time all this was going on, I was working as a retail manager in a busy shop in a new shopping centre. He lived maybe 30 minutes away from me and on his off days he’d message me all the time, even during work. I’d be busy unpacking a big delivery, check my phone and find 11 messages from his describing a fantasy he’d just had about me. Or he’d follow up with more thoughts on something I’d asked him previously. And all of the messaging while at work would get into my brain and I ended up having all of these racing thoughts.

I’d start to imagine what it would be like if he decided to go further afield to a shopping centre to pick up some things and maybe it would be the shopping centre I worked in. Maybe he’d walk into my shop. Maybe he’d pass me as I went out on my lunch break, maybe we’d be in the same queue line in Boots. Whenever I went out on my breaks at work I’d have this thought in my head. Any one of these people could be him. And I’d feel this almost constant tension, this need for him.

I also can’t stress enough how much this man was into me. He would tell me all the time how much he thought how my brain worked was incredibly sexy or how he loved seeing me grow in sexual confidence. And he’d follow it up by saying let’s meet. It can be us talking about anything or everything but let it also be me straddling his cock. His sexual energy was in everything he said but not in a creepy way. It felt like us having sex was just a natural extension of our connection in other ways.

But I’d always say to him, I don’t know, I don’t if I can meet him.

Because I was still married. Even though I was already preparing my exit strategy, even though I knew in my heart that it was over but I still felt something about my marriage. About loyalty and commitment to my (now) ex. I felt like I was okay at that time about things happening online. Flirting online wasn’t cheating, was it? Completely ignoring that sharing so much with this man about sex, fantasies and desires was so much more than ‘flirting’. But once it got into meeting people face to face that’s when I started to think, how can that ever be justified? So he kept asking and I kept saying no. (I didn’t always say ‘no’ but that’s a story for another time.)

And that’s how this fantasy built. It started off as a dream but when I woke up I added to it, filled it in more.

I’m at a wedding reception and it’s in one of those fancy estate houses, with a really large house and massive beautiful gardens that are well maintained. I’m in a pretty dress and heels, I’ve come to this wedding on my own and I’m talking to a group of people I know reasonably well but aren’t particularly close with. We’re in the gardens and it’s a gorgeous summer day with the sun out. I remember the feel of the fabric of my dress, that I feel good in this dress, I like the shape of it, the colour of it.

I am laughing and smiling with the group I’m with and over the shoulder of the person I’m talking to, I see him. I’m with the bride’s group of friends, but I can see that he’s clustered with a group of friends that know the groom, all wearing suits, ties having been abandoned, their shirts unbuttoned and more relaxed. But he’s not paying attention to the people he’s with, he’s looking at me. Only me. And with this intensity in his gaze.

I stop laughing abruptly when I see him from the shock of it. How can he be here? But I quickly go back to the conversation I’m having, afraid that someone else will notice and ask how I know this man who keeps staring at me, why he has such an effect on me.

I do my best to engage in conversation but I turn slightly so I can keep him in my sights, even now as my heartbeat is racing I don’t want to turn away from him. When he starts moving towards me with purpose in his steps, I catch his eye and sort of shake my head like don’t do this. And I hope he can see the panic in my eyes.

But he’s still walking towards me, so I make my excuses to my friends and say I need another drink and move away. And I can see him sometimes as I move from place to place. He stops when others call his name but he’s still making his way towards me. So I decide to leave. I go into the fancy building and make like I’ve gone out the front door but I actually circle back round and come back in from a side door. And I race up one of the sets of stairs to this room that’s been turned into a coat room with racks along one side of the room and piles of coats on the bed, a few suitcases in the corner from wedding guests. And I quickly find my coat and I turn to the door to leave but he’s standing just inside the room.

And he just says my name really quietly. Just my name.

And that’s when I launch into my rambling, all the words are coming out of me and I’m saying we can’t do this, I’m married and he’s married and it would be wrong and it’s our friend’s wedding anyway and that should be the focus which is why I should just leave, I have everything to just go right now anyway and as I’m talking he’s been moving more towards the centre of the room, closer to me. And I try to just dart past him and through the open door but he reaches out and he touches my arm very lightly.

And as soon as he touches me my words stop and I just stand there looking at his hand on my arm and I feel like until that moment I haven’t really looked at him, not properly. His height makes me tremble but so does he in his shirt, looking like he looked really put together once but now his hair falls over his beautiful blue eyes and he’s rolled his sleeves up with bare forearms and I look up and he’s even closer than I imagined, the heat of him. That fucking intense look of his. His hand on me is light but I feel like I can’t move anyway. He’s pinned me with that look.

And I start to say something else halfheartedly and he says something like shhh and at once he’s pulling me closer to him and also does something with the door like he’s kicked it shut with his leg. And he spins us both and I’m pressed against the door and he’s now got both my wrists held together in his hand and they’re over my head and he leans in and everything fades to black.

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Difficult Choices

April 16, 2025

dating

When I split from my ex, I had an idea of some of the things I’d do. I had a list of things I’d put off doing or that I’d forgotten that I enjoyed doing because I was putting others’ needs before my own. And one of the things on my list was that I was going to go to this two day event in London that happened every year on a specific weekend. And instead of taking the train in and out of London both days, I’d stay overnight. I’d make the most of my time and I would see a musical on my own on the Saturday evening. For months, I felt pretty excited about what I was calling my ‘Me Weekend’.

Only it didn’t become a Me Weekend in the end. I’d started talking to this wildly interesting man two weeks before Me Weekend. He and I would message back and forth off and on all day. Every day. He’d message me good morning as he was in the gym during a leg workout and I’d respond that I was lazing about in bed still, that maybe I’d roll out of bed to sit at my desk in my home office or maybe I’d stay under the duvet with my work laptop with me. But the messaging wouldn’t stop there. We talked about everything. Food, music, films. He seemed to take my random conversation starters in his stride and I love how unexpected he was.

In the end, I told him about Me Weekend. He said he was free from the early afternoon on the Saturday if I wanted to meet him for a drink. I said ‘yes’ immediately but told him that my thing during the day would determine my availability. On the day though, I was on the train to meet him for 2pm. In one of those weird coincidences that happen, I got out at the wrong exit and suddenly thought, oh no, he’ll never find me here and I circled back. I’m not the most observant person and hadn’t seen more than one face picture of him before we met but just as I was fast-walking back to the other side of the station, I looked up and there he was.

Jesus Christ. I find attraction is not something that comes easily to me but this man was gorgeous. It was so obvious how comfortable he felt in his own skin, in his body. I loved the way he walked, the way he moved. I’d never considered how I felt about bald men before but he really sold it for me. I did probably stand there taking him in for a beat too long and made it awkward. But I am an awkward person so I didn’t dwell on it too much. And he turned out to be my favourite kind of people – the sort of person who just by being who and how they are seem to lower my anxiety, people who make me comfortable in their presence. And the rest of the day passed in a blur.

We sat in a pub talking for hours. I started being obsessed with seeing his smile, trying to say things that would make him laugh. In the end, it started becoming obvious how much I wanted this man, there was something in his eyes that made me thought that maybe he was into me too? He was ridiculously respectful in the way he had touched me, in the things he said. Even with me trying to guide things into finding out what he wanted to do after this. But he never said. When I said should we get out of here? He responded by asking shall we walk in such a sweet way that I said yes even though what I actually wanted to do was take his hand and guide him back to my hotel room.

I enjoyed our walk. I can’t walk straight to save my life, so I kept bumping into him and he did that thing where he touched my lower back as he guided me through places when I wasn’t watching where I was going, animatedly telling him a story. I got incredibly lost and relied on him to find our way again. He also has the patience of a saint. I feel like he could have walked forever listening to me talk. But I wanted more from him.

In the end, I said to him that I wanted to drop my bag off in my hotel room before my thing that night. I was having a great time talking, did he want to walk with me? He said yes and 20 minutes later, we were in my room and there this was charge in the space between us. But by this time, he hadn’t said explicitly that he was into me and the way my brain works means that I could always count on myself to twist things to mean that …he’s just a nice person, he’s just interested in me platonically. I also wasn’t sure if we were moving too quickly. So I needed him to say it. Anything. Whatever he was thinking.

In the end, I asked him outright. What are we doing? What did he want to do? So we started kissing and the passion from it was off the charts. All that pent up sexual tension between us that had built up for hours just fueled the way we kissed each other.

The way I pulled up his shirt to touch the bare skin of his back. The way his hands went up my thighs, the way he pulled me close to him. I found that my favourite place on earth was suddenly straddling him, one of his hands up my dress on my ass the other in my hair, his erection straining between us.

But just as I was about to whisper to him that I thought we both had far too many clothes on my alarm went off on my phone. The one that said when I needed to leave to get to my musical on time. We pulled away from each other out of breath. And lying there on my bed, drunk from kisses I did think … should I just not go to the theatre?? Surely here is where I needed to be. Naked with this man. I went back and forth about it. I wanted both at the same time.

In the end, I remembered that was this (supposedly) Me Weekend. That I’d made these plans with myself in mind. For what I wanted and needed. It was symbolic more than anything else. That I was putting myself first. So reluctantly I left. This kind, sexy man escorted me all the way to the doors of the theatre giving me the most delicious kisses goodbye. I breathlessly asked if he wanted to wait for me, come back to my hotel room after the show. But with regret in his face, he said no. That he needed to get home for his cat. So we said goodbye there.

We were going to meet up again in a few weeks’ time but it didn’t work out and in the end, I think he met someone and deleted his profile. I think back at his beautiful smile, the amazing afternoon and evening we shared and think I wouldn’t have done anything differently.

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Invitation

April 15, 2025

poetry, sex

Please come over

I’d like to open the door and be surprised all over again to see your handsome face

I’d like you to be in my space

To see you leaning against my door frame

Being kind to my dog

Please come over

I’d like to ramble at you in my nervousness

And ask you inane things like how has work been today

I’d like to think about offering you a drink

Though I’ve never done so before

Please come over

I’d like to grab your hand and pull you up the stairs

I’d like to feel the height of you behind me

And think about how we don’t have long

I’d like to make use of the time we have

Please come over

I’d like to scramble out of my clothes and kiss you naked on my bed

I’d like you to run your lips and tongue up my neck and across my nipples

To feel your cold hands between my legs

Please come over

I’d like to fall apart at your touch

I’d like you to hear my pleasure

Over and over again

I’d like to hear that groaning noise

As you dip your fingers into me

Whispering in that reverential way ‘you’re so wet’

Please come over

I’d like to pull at your clothing

Until you stand and

I’d like to watch you undress

I’d like to touch myself as you’re doing so

Almost breathless for what will happen next

Please come over

I’d like to see your face over mine

The way it goes a little bit slack as you give into pleasure

I’d like to see you lose control

I’d like to hear it

I’d like to be the reason you lose control

Please come over

I’d like to press myself against you after

I’d like to rest my head on your chest so I can hear your heartbeat

With your hands gently stroking my skin

Please come over

I’d like to hear your quiet voice

Tell me things you don’t say in messages

I’d like to feel close to you briefly

And smell your aftershave on my bedsheets long after you’re gone

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Dates Gone Wrong

April 9, 2025

dating

I met up with this man once. We went to my favourite coffee shop and had a great time. The conversation we’d had over messaging translated well into in person.

He looked good, he smelled good. He showed up on time, his communication beforehand was good. He had a pleasant face and an open way of talking. I’ve never met a man before or since that just naturally led the conversation into sex.

I liked the way that he talked about having sex, the sensual nature of it that matches some of my own interests. We talked a lot about kissing, what a turn on it is, how important it is, how a good kiss can make or break an experience.

At one point during the date I was turning the cap of my water bottle off and on, a sort of nervous tic. I knew I was doing it and couldn’t stop doing it. He noticed and instead of pointing it out or asking about it he reached out as if to grab my hand, paused and looked at me with a question in his eyes, silently asking if it was okay. I nodded slightly and he took my hand and said I have beautiful hands and nails.

I enjoyed his tactile nature, the open way he appreciated me. Not just my hands but my body, my face, what I said. There was an interest there. I remember smiling a lot during that date. I basked in his attention.

One of us had to be somewhere else so he walked me to my car. As I’d explained about being reciprosexual already halfway to the car he told me he thought I was pretty and sexy and that he would be interested in kissing me.

And that’s where it all went wrong. I was into that first kiss. And the next one. He was an excellent kisser, his lips were soft but he applied just the right pressure. I pulled away with a smile on my face. We said our goodbyes and I turned, got into my car. He also walked away but after a few steps he turned back round until he was standing next to my car.

I hit the button for my window to roll down, confused. He said he loved that kiss so much he wanted more. I said again that he or I needed to be somewhere but he had bent into my open car window for another kiss. I thought it weird but I was into that kiss too. I got out of my car so it wasn’t so awkward and that’s when it happened.

This man, taller than me by 8 inches, with broad shoulders and strong arms leaned in for another kiss and in doing so held my head in place so I couldn’t move. His mouth on mine, his tongue. I found I couldn’t move, I tried to take a step back but he used his body to hold me in place as he took from my mouth what he wanted to have. I felt a panic rising in me, and when I felt a moment where I could no longer breathe I used both hands against his chest to push him away from me.

I said something then. But not the thing I should have. I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t into that kiss. I didn’t say that he scared me with that kiss. I didn’t say that because we’d kissed before that it didn’t mean he was entitled to more kisses.

Instead I got in my car and drove away. He messaged me and it took me a month before I blocked him.

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Eye Contact

April 8, 2025

sex

I’ve had this fantasy for awhile. It started around the same time as I had this friendship with an older man who lived far away. We used to video call and I found that I liked the way he looked at me. I liked that his gaze on me was so intense and unwavering and I liked it so much that this fantasy formed in my head. At first it was him in my fantasy, but it’s been so long since we lost contact that I almost don’t remember what he looks like anymore.

I’m laying naked on a bed. It’s not my bed. There are white sheets and a white duvet on it, soft pillows. And it sort of starts with the focus just on me, and I’m just enjoying my own body, running my fingers down my neck, over my nipples, the soft skin under my breasts, along my stomach. And I’m enjoying it.

And at some point, not in any hurry, I look up and there’s someone I really fancy standing off to one side. With this intense look on his face. Sometimes he’s only staring right into my eyes, sometimes he’s watching my fingers graze over my skin, clear desire on his face. Sometimes he’s clothed, sometimes he’s naked too, his hand on his erect cock but just as I’m languorous about the way I touch my body so is he.

And I want this man. The very moment I notice he’s there I can feel this change in my body, a feeling of electricity everywhere that he looks and my mouth opens like I want to use it on him, my breath goes faster. And somehow I just know that he’s isn’t going to move towards me, I know that if he ever does that I’ve got to earn it.

With his gaze on me I feel like I’ve never been more aware of every part of my body and now, with him looking at me, my hands are touching where I want his hands on me, where I imagine him licking. My legs part and I can’t tear my eyes away from him. As he’s watching me, or as he’s watching my fingers slowly circling my clit.

But I’m still taking my time, I know he wants that too. And it feels like this is all I want to do, touch myself slowly, with purpose to make myself feel good, to make him feel good too. But at the same time I can barely breathe properly from the anticipation of him moving towards me.

So my hands move faster, I use my fingers, my back starts to arch. My eyes are half closed because what my fingers are doing feels so good and I want to lose myself to it but I can’t because it means losing that connection between us. I suck my fingers into my mouth and hope he realises I’m at the end of my patience.

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Heartbreak

April 7, 2025

dating, poetry

It’s been 6 days and still no word

Do you not miss me?

Does your heart not ache picking up your phone without any notifications from me?

I woke up this morning and I wanted to tell you about my yellow jumper

About electric kisses

About the film with the frogs

Have you even noticed that I’ve stopped prattling to you about my day?

Sharing these parts of myself with you

I thought you enjoyed it

I thought you enjoyed me

I guess I got it all wrong

You once told me part of my charm was the way in which words spilled out of me

But now that I think of it

Maybe I said that and you merely agreed

Have I always been this generous with you?

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Electric Kisses

April 4, 2025

dating

I had this friend once. We’d met several times before, over coffee or at a local pub. Sometimes his wife would be there too but not every time. And we talked about work and children, local events, reading, niche hobbies. Sex, dating. There really weren’t any topics off limits.

He was such a strange friend. He contacted me via a sex website we both use and the purpose, I’m imagining, was to find out if I’d be interested in having a threesome with him and his wife. And I enjoyed the friendship and company of his wife, she’s attractive, funny, and very interesting to talk with …but her and I are both (probably) reciprosexual so logistically, would we ever work out?

It was initially him that I found fascinating anyway. It was him that sparked all my curiosity when he sent me essay length messages. Asking me interested questions, being incredibly interesting in the life things that he’s passionate about. The overlap of many things we shared was such a bonus.

When we met up, I loved his smile, the way he’d listen to me and his wife talk about attraction and how he’d empathise but he was fairly open about his own attraction to others being much more simple and straightforward. But it was also …just different. The addition of his wife changed the dynamic. He was less flirty with me, less open in his attraction. He never touched me, ever.

So I figured it was just platonic. I referred to them both for awhile as my ‘platonic couple friends’. We created a group chat that never touched on sex or the possibility of threesomes or sex filled weekends. Instead we talked about film, about walking, about hats and dancing. Sometimes I’d fill them in on other dates I’d been on. When they started bringing up dates they’d been on together and separately, I figured that was a subtle hint that we’d all moved on.

So when he and I arranged to go to a local board game meet up together, I didn’t think anything of it. Not even when we arrived at the same time and joined the group together. When the board game host asked our names I said nothing so he said our names and the host assumed we were together for the rest of the night.

We sat across from each other and even when I was talking and laughing with the others at this group I could feel his eyes on me. When we switched to playing a different board game every time he attacked me it felt like he was flirting with me and I reciprocated in mock outrage that my hand of cards was being threatened. I took off my jumper and he looked a little pointedly at the design on my t-shirt directly over my boobs before giving me a compliment. I met his eyes when I said ‘thank you’ feeling a little charge between us.

After the first two board games, I made my excuses and we both left at the same time. Because it was too much socialising, apparently, though we stayed talking just to each other for another hour. When he walked me to my car he said he wanted to kiss me. That he’d had a great evening with me, that I looked impossibly cute and that he wasn’t going to question it. He just knew he wanted to kiss me.

When we did kiss, standing in the car park right off the High Street, it was electric. I may not always know if I’m attracted to someone but that night I did. Every part of me wanted to touch him, my mouth wanted more kisses, I wanted more.

When we broke apart, out of breath and dazed he said something that would haunt me. I’ve had dreams about him saying it. ‘I know I could be a great friend to you and an even better lover.’ But it was followed up with a ‘but’ But his wife and the journey they were on. That they were already navigating taking that next step with inviting someone else into their sexual relationship. That it wasn’t fair on me to do things rashly and recklessly.

So we never kissed again. Did we ever meet up again? I’m not sure. I think we suggested it and it never happened. Eventually conversation on the group chat dried up. And all I have left are the memories of a really great and electric kiss.

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Books, sex, community

April 3, 2025

sex

I really like reading. And I really like sex. And what I really love is when the two things I love most in the world combine.

I’ll probably write more about some of the non-fiction books I’ve got planned about sex and sexuality, the female body, orgasms. But right now? Right now I’m reading a fiction book called Experienced by Kate Young. It’s a book about a newly-out lesbian in her 30s finding her way amongst dating, casual sex, relationships and just figuring shit out.

And I fucking love it. I’m only about halfway through but do you ever just read something and think god, yeah. There was a bit in the book where Bette, the main character meets a hot woman in a bar and they end up with her pressed against a wall while the hot woman fingers her to orgasm. And afterwards Bette is all yes, I fucking did it. I just had sex. And my first thought was oh my god, I spend too much time with the straights because this one reaction about the definition of sex has just reshaped my life. And I love it.

I think what I realised when I read that scene (and had that reaction) is that what I really want (aside from orgasms in this glorious sunshine!) is to find my people. Bisexual people, sapphic women, people who realised in their 30s or older about their sexuality, demisexual and asexual people, reciprosexual people (or at least people who know what I mean by reciprosexual) and probably importantly people of colour who are also any of the things I listed. I have queer friends but I don’t have my age queer friends who are also navigating sex, dating, or relationships right now. And I’m looking for them. Make yourselves known.

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Cute things

April 2, 2025

dating

I want to do cute things with you. I bring them up sometimes, hinting but never coming right out and saying ‘will you go on cute dates with me?’

There’s a concert not far from me where a string trio will play songs in a church filled with lit candles. And I’d like to sit in a pew with you, our thighs touching as we listen to classical versions of Fleetwood Mac, me sneaking glances at you and smiling.

There’s a free drag event nearby that I saw on a local meetup group. It only lists one drag queen but one is all you need, right? I imagine us sitting on bar stools, our knees touching, laughing with each other in the bits between the spectacle.

Or I’d like to go paddle boarding with you. There’s a lake nearby that rents by the hour and I wonder what my balance is like, what yours is like. Would you laugh seeing me wobble on my board, would I splash you with my oar? Maybe we walk around the lake before our time on the water, arms brushing against each other, me wanting to hold your hand.

I don’t remember your answer when I asked if you liked roller coasters? Maybe we end up at Thorpe Park, deciding whether to queue for the new roller coaster or whether we race around to see if we can do all the other big rides in the same time as queuing for Hyperia. Or at least my favourites, The Swarm and Saw. Maybe Nemesis or if I’m trying to impress you, Stealth. I see myself bumping into you as I’m telling a story, touching your arm for emphasis, moving in closer to you as crowds of other people circle around us.

It could be anything, really. It doesn’t matter if we’re in the cinema or a museum, walking along the river or sitting on a bench somewhere. The point is that I want to spend time with you, I want to see your face, I want to hear your voice, I want to thrill at the idea of touching you, of you touching me.

And instead we do what we always do. I message you first, you respond. Occasionally and far too infrequently for my liking you show up in my bed. My bed, and never yours, and we have this brief, intense, pleasurable experience. Where I’m left spent, sated and wanting so much more.

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Introductions

April 1, 2025

Uncategorized

Don’t mind me, I’m just a woman in her 40s, newly single trying my best to navigate dating, casual sex and relationships. This stuff is scary and new and there’s no instruction manual for it. This is my journey.

I’m going to remain semi-anonymous. Where relevant, I’ll change names to protect others’ privacy. But I want to be as honest as I can about all my experiences. That might includes the highs of getting it right but it will include plenty of the getting it all wrong lows. I’ll hope you’ll stick with me whichever it is. It’s probably somewhere in the middle.

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