Drought

Counting the weeks on one hand has become difficult considering I have at most four fingers and one thumb. The amount of weeks has spread onto my second hand, a sign that screams ‘darling, look how long it’s been. You need to get laid as soon as possible’. I can barely remember the last time I felt hot lips passionately thrusting themselves upon mine, the last time fingers frantically clutched at my waist, the last time I experienced an ever long moment of pure physical lust.

All I can remember in that instance, I felt it, I liked it. I was enjoying sex and then it stopped; tasting the ripest of fruit to only have it taken away forever. Making other bites I take sour in comparison. So what did I do? I stopped biting, stopped trying, stopped tasting. Consequently I feel like I have lost my ability to seduce, to convince guys that I would be good in bed despite my disorderly shortcomings.

In Laymen’s terms: I have lost my mojo.

Well, I think I have. I feel like I have. It’s not like the opportunities haven’t arisen; I just haven’t taken them. Excuse the pun but I just don’t have it in me anymore. The fact that I have had opportunity makes me think that it’s my fault, my own doing that I haven’t had any action. I haven’t taken initiative. 

And I keep saying I need action but then suddenly when I’m in that situation; music pounding, sweat dripping, alcohol flowing, I just don’t feel it. Maybe because this is the first long period of time in a long period time that I have been well and truly single I’ve just gotten accustomed to this celibate lifestyle. Is this me CONTENT?

I’ll let you know.

Stay Sexy.

xAx

The Curious Case of the Fit Manager

“I go and say hi to my friends that work here before I start my shift”

“What about me? Where’s my good morning?” I smile coyly at his question as it tumbles from his lips, onto the rain soaked concrete. I look down at it and trace his body upwards; finally meeting his eyes.

“Don’t worry; I save you for lunch”. Incredibly pleased with myself I turn to skip off to work, knowing that a line like that has never and will never again leave my mouth. I like to think I’m good at lexis on paper but wordsmithery doesn’t seem to be a naturally occurring sensation when it comes to the real world. My come backs tend to come back as swift punches to the arm or a simple ‘fuck off.

That being said, dear reader; please only use violence as a last resort. Unless they’re being a complete and utter cunt; in that case go right ahead. Give them one from me too.

Anyway back to me being briefly awesome at flirting:

“I save you for lunch…” he laughed I thought, he loved it. Now run away before he can say anything!

That was the last time I saw Fit Manager. I can’t currently think of a better or more appropriate name for him because to be honest it involves the majority of my knowledge of him. He’s the manager of the shop that I work near (Albus’ manager in fact) and he’s fit. Oh and I want to have sex with him.

You know when you just know someone’s into you? It could be the way they present themselves around you, the way they talk to you or just that way they look at you. You just know. With Fit Manager, I do not know.

I get the impression that he’s a bit of a dickhead. A fit guy with a good job is not single. And if he is; there’s a reason. Faults could include: scarred from previous relationship, serial shagger or narcissist to name a few. All amounting the most annoying of disorders; Fit Dick Syndrome.

Last week he came into my shop and said “You had better be out this weekend”. I was. Nothing happened. He went home without saying goodbye. WUT?!

All I know is that he has this sort of sexual prowess about him. Probably because he’s a couple of years older than me and I’ve been dealing with little boys for the past year. I feel quite… intimidated, but in a good way. Like a thrill. Guys my age have been getting boring for a while now (read as I’ve already got with most of them or their best mates). A new guy, a new guy I can’t read, for some reason excites me.

I got the impression that last weekend when we were in town that he was playing hard to get. He was being the girl; which was weird. But I must insist, he’s hot, so I didn’t care.

So what do you guys think? I need genuine advice on this one. Albus hasn’t read this yet but when he does he’s going to tell me to ‘stop ova finkin’ things and just go with the flow. But I don’t like the flow. The flow has left me marooned on an obscure island, starving for action. Like Tom Hanks but a bit of a slut.

Oh Tom, you dirty little minx.

Stay Sexy.

xAx

VOTE FOR ME

If you love/have minor affections for me then vote for me on this so I get some booze:

http://www.singleswarehouse.co.uk/warehouselife/2011/08/whos-wrote-the-best-blog-this-week/

You know, if you want to. Not like I'm competitive or anything. Or a borderline alcoholic.

Oh and there's a new post coming soon I promise!

Stay Sexy

xAx

Singles Warehouse Guest Post

I was asked by Dirty Knickers (http://dirty-knickers.blogspot.com/) last week if I could write a guest post for this brilliant online dating site; Singles Warehouse.

I said yes; pretending to be cool about it but in real life getting VERY over excited at the prospect writing something for a blog other than my own.

Me being, in my head, an internet rockstar.

So here it is more likely ladies than gents;

http://www.singleswarehouse.co.uk/warehouselife/2011/08/dr-jekyll-or-mr-hyde/

Thanks to Dirty Knickers and Singles Warehouse for letting me loose on the site!

Stay Sexy

xAx