Please Don’t Touch Me There!

I’ve had times where I’ve been single to mingle and mingle is all I wanted to do and somehow this has led to extremely stupid encounters and one dodgy sort-of relationship. Out of all of it, there have been some pretty good lessons learnt too.

I went through a phase that included a hell of a lot of alcohol and a “Fuck Men and their feelings, I’m gonna get mine” attitude. And in hindsight, I’ve had some pretty bad experiences because of this. I’ve had plenty of non-committed alcohol induced sexual experiences and I’m not ashamed of that. Mr.Me knows my number and some of the people it shouldn’t include and if he’s cool then fuck anyone elses opinion.

I don’t mean to sound harsh or horrible but honestly – I’m sure guys have had similar bad experiences and these are just 5 of my worst and most memorably weird and “never again” moments.
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  1. To start the list is PJ who came to mind after reading a blog post last night. PJ was of short stature and not my usual dark skinned type. I can’t even remember how we met but I’m going to presume it was somewhere online. I quickly learnt the most important things about PJ: he was extremely sensitive to ANY touch which made him obviously quick when it came to doing the deed (this happened once on the last time I saw him), small as in hard to even rub off and clearly oblivious to any of this as he asked to go again a few months later after asking “if it was good?”.

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Guilt Sex

I would like to think we have all been there: that week or so every month when sex isn’t an option (for the more vanilla of us) is the one week you’ve ever wanted sex so bad in your entire life. Every month.

And you’re not shy to let your Mr.Me know this multiple times a day. In various ways. Texts. Phone calls. The sly grab of the ass. The extremely frustrated sigh at bed time. Whatever it is you do to let them know, you do it more times than you ever could in the 3 weeks you could have sex. I also learnt that masturbation can have an awesome result in about 60 seconds when you know what your clitoris likes.
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Everyone knows it’s hormones. They know. And they patiently wait for the green light to land, highly anticipating fireworks and passion like never before.

Then the time comes.
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