Evening,
Well, what a week this has been. Here in the UK we have been experiencing some extreme weather conditions, of which have blown of several of my plans! I am very angry at this. It seems that us Brits can't seem to deal with a few drops of the white stuff - I'm on about snow; Filthy!. I mean a single helping of it is enough to bring this country to its knees - OK, now I am playing with you.
So this weekend was meant to be mine and Miss Chocolate's romantic mini break away to North-Wales-ish. Wrong. The snow had better plans. And so all our plans for a naked skinny-dipping spa, eating fast food in the bathroom and heading to the shops just to buy an outfit that we would return after our rowdy night out have now all gone to shit because of the bad weather up North. Granted, we have changed the dates, but I don't know whether I can get the day off from work and this is causing some ruffled feathers in the love nest of Miss Chocolat a la Moi. Regardless I am sure that we will be the best of friends soon as we have an impending weekend of havoc to create as the bunny ears are out and we are ready to party like its Easter 2013! I also have an 80's V 90's night to attend with Miss Chocolate, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dee and some other well known faces. So this weekend should be a blast if the bloody snow holds off. It'll give me something interesting to tell of next week.
And after last weeks drama surrounding Mr. Coffee I am glad to say that this chapter is now closed and I shall no longer be obsessing, fantasising or thinking of the so-called 'rocker', although I use that term very loosely. In a desperate attempt to gain his attention I did attempt to text Mr. Coffee several times throughout the week, even a phone-call or two, inviting him over for dinner and drinks, but all to no avail. So after logging into Facebook and seeing that he was online I struck up a conversation knowing that he wouldn't be in a talkative mood. Pop! Suddenly to my surprise Mr. Coffee answered back and we started small talk. I asked how college was and he said he was enjoying it especially since there were drama's erupting and romances blossoming. This got me thinking. "Does that mean that your trying to pursue someone then?" I typed, cautious of what the answer might be. He replied with Maybe. I sat there, stunned. A small part of me thought 'Knock, Knock, Oh Hey! You know it might be you that he's talking about?' Knowing that this wasn't the case but still hoping that it was I asked another question, "Was that the case last week?" but silence soon followed. I asked again and this time Mr. Coffee replied. "Sort of - Its complicated, but she wasn't there no" was the weak response that he attempted to fool me with. I hesitated to believe him. Then a surge of energy as the ice melted his hands and they flowed freely across his keyboard telling me how I somehow put him on the spot last week. Not True. And how its all really complicated right now. Calm and collected I started my own scat along my laptop keypad. How dare he! "Whats going on between us?" I asked burning up with a simmering mixture of embarrassment and anger. Again more silence. Again I asked. "I don't think there is anything between us, dude. I just don't think we're right for each other." - Quote and verbatim. I mean who says 'dude' now-days anyway. I'm sorry I didn't realise you were Axel Rose? Humiliation swallowed me up making me feel like a fool in the way of relationships yet again. But at least I know - I'm glad that it took more than eight weeks to get sorted! Seems like it may be a blessing in disguise as the self-proclaimed womaniser moves onto his next piece of meat. *High-Pitch-Gay-Man-Voice* "Uhh, yeah I'm not a Hump-'em-and-dump-'em kinda guy". Yeah ... Much!
Mr. Mot has also made several appearances this week, lending his ear and sharing life as well as yet again asking me to spend some 'quality' time with him. The latest one, is me nursing him back to health and tending to his every need. Every. Need. But as it would happen I don't have any qualifications to nurse anyone back to health and impersonating a figure of authority within the public sector is an arresting offence. Even so I am sure Mr. Mot wouldn't say not to handcuffing me and having his wicked way with a naughty convict.
So here's hoping the weather holds out for me this weekend and stays nice so I can get my claws into a new obsession! Out on the prowl again ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Infedelity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Infedelity. Show all posts
Tuesday, 26 March 2013
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
A Shock, An Invitation And Compulsory Meeting
Heyy,
So after last weeks interesting episode, I have encountered a shock announcement, a few revelations and an invitation which ultimately brings with it a predicament! Now would you really expect anything different from me readers? I understand that you also felt that last weeks instalment was a tad long and for this a apologise, but hopefully it was worth it in the end. Ill try and keep this one short and sweet.
After finishing a uneventful day at work I decided to call my personal 'Agony Uncle', AKA Mr. Mot. I had not spoken to him in a while and thought that it would be a good idea to have a chat on my usual commute home. We talked endlessly about the weather, jobs and what we were doing that week. Mr. Mot and I also discussed his girlfriend and the progress of their melodramatic relationship and yet again the 'Proposal' was brought about. Again I refused but something inside of me willed me to give in to temptation. I didn't. Further down the conversation we were discussing how Mr. Mot was attending a concert in London over the coming weekend and that his girlfriend was unable to attend. I asked as to why she wasn't making the event, expecting the reason to be something trivial like work commitments or family life. No. "Are you really that stupid?" Mr. Mot asked me. I had no idea what he was on about. Has he told me something and in my old age I have forgotten? Am I going mad? You see, up until this point Mr. Mot had failed to tell me a formidable bombshell that I was stunned to learn about as this had been the case for some weeks now. Mr. Mot had thought he had already told me that his girlfriend was now several weeks pregnant carrying his unborn child. I mean at this point in time it is really only a foetus, a small ball of cells that multiply every so often to gradually transform into a little person. I have known Mr. Mot for several years now and this was a very big shock indeed, not to mention that this added strain has made him question their entire relationship and its future.
Although it did get me wondering about my fate and weather I would be able to have children one day. Obviously not with Mr. Mot, however we have said that if we are still single by our mid-thirties then we shall elope, saving each other from a one way ticket to loserville where lonely single people own several cats and gradually deflate with age until the impending doom of death arrives. Its not like we wouldn't make beautiful children. Blue eyes and blonde hair - it would be like raising a little family that even Hitler would be proud of. But having a baby with someone you love and want to be is equally important when bringing up a child, I think. Honestly though, after hearing from the horses mouth what my ex got up to after we separated was something that brings me joy to this day. But that's a story for another day. What I am trying to say is that I was sure that I wanted all of that with someone and now that its gone, I'm not sure that I will get the opportunity again. Well, until is Mr. Mot and I start the deflation process.
Speaking of the ex, I will be having an encounter this week. I will have to stomach Mr. Workaholic's overbearing ego and poncy manor for a few hours whilst we finalise some financial paperwork that has not been sorted out for nearly a year. His excuse? "I have been busy". Well, unless a porn website has recruited Mr. Workaholic as new member, part of there climax-tester wank panel I doubt you have been very busy. Either that or you have found a new chess buddy *Snorts and snigger's loudly*. I am not looking forward to the meeting however it will be that last I shall have to ever encounter him. Mind you, I said that the last few times I have blessed with Mr Workaholic's presence. Also this week after an interesting invitation from a mutual friend of me and a another, whose name I shall not mention as they may be reading, I may be attending an event with Miss Chocolate. I shall not reveal any more information as I don't want to spoil the fun I may have, but will defiantly update you all on how it goes. As it is St. Patrick's day this coming weekend in the UK, Miss Chocolate and I will be celebrating in true Irish style, although she does not know this yet.
Anyway I think I deserve a nice hot bubble bath. Time to wash away my sins and all that filth of the day.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So after last weeks interesting episode, I have encountered a shock announcement, a few revelations and an invitation which ultimately brings with it a predicament! Now would you really expect anything different from me readers? I understand that you also felt that last weeks instalment was a tad long and for this a apologise, but hopefully it was worth it in the end. Ill try and keep this one short and sweet.
After finishing a uneventful day at work I decided to call my personal 'Agony Uncle', AKA Mr. Mot. I had not spoken to him in a while and thought that it would be a good idea to have a chat on my usual commute home. We talked endlessly about the weather, jobs and what we were doing that week. Mr. Mot and I also discussed his girlfriend and the progress of their melodramatic relationship and yet again the 'Proposal' was brought about. Again I refused but something inside of me willed me to give in to temptation. I didn't. Further down the conversation we were discussing how Mr. Mot was attending a concert in London over the coming weekend and that his girlfriend was unable to attend. I asked as to why she wasn't making the event, expecting the reason to be something trivial like work commitments or family life. No. "Are you really that stupid?" Mr. Mot asked me. I had no idea what he was on about. Has he told me something and in my old age I have forgotten? Am I going mad? You see, up until this point Mr. Mot had failed to tell me a formidable bombshell that I was stunned to learn about as this had been the case for some weeks now. Mr. Mot had thought he had already told me that his girlfriend was now several weeks pregnant carrying his unborn child. I mean at this point in time it is really only a foetus, a small ball of cells that multiply every so often to gradually transform into a little person. I have known Mr. Mot for several years now and this was a very big shock indeed, not to mention that this added strain has made him question their entire relationship and its future.
Although it did get me wondering about my fate and weather I would be able to have children one day. Obviously not with Mr. Mot, however we have said that if we are still single by our mid-thirties then we shall elope, saving each other from a one way ticket to loserville where lonely single people own several cats and gradually deflate with age until the impending doom of death arrives. Its not like we wouldn't make beautiful children. Blue eyes and blonde hair - it would be like raising a little family that even Hitler would be proud of. But having a baby with someone you love and want to be is equally important when bringing up a child, I think. Honestly though, after hearing from the horses mouth what my ex got up to after we separated was something that brings me joy to this day. But that's a story for another day. What I am trying to say is that I was sure that I wanted all of that with someone and now that its gone, I'm not sure that I will get the opportunity again. Well, until is Mr. Mot and I start the deflation process.
Speaking of the ex, I will be having an encounter this week. I will have to stomach Mr. Workaholic's overbearing ego and poncy manor for a few hours whilst we finalise some financial paperwork that has not been sorted out for nearly a year. His excuse? "I have been busy". Well, unless a porn website has recruited Mr. Workaholic as new member, part of there climax-tester wank panel I doubt you have been very busy. Either that or you have found a new chess buddy *Snorts and snigger's loudly*. I am not looking forward to the meeting however it will be that last I shall have to ever encounter him. Mind you, I said that the last few times I have blessed with Mr Workaholic's presence. Also this week after an interesting invitation from a mutual friend of me and a another, whose name I shall not mention as they may be reading, I may be attending an event with Miss Chocolate. I shall not reveal any more information as I don't want to spoil the fun I may have, but will defiantly update you all on how it goes. As it is St. Patrick's day this coming weekend in the UK, Miss Chocolate and I will be celebrating in true Irish style, although she does not know this yet.
Anyway I think I deserve a nice hot bubble bath. Time to wash away my sins and all that filth of the day.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 5 March 2013
A Dog's Life ...
Evening all,
So after my girlie weekend away I have come back relaxed and refreshed. It hasn't been without its spills though. nearly becoming human ice-cubes waiting for a cab after going to the theatre, arguments over who stank out the bathroom last and living off of pizza and fizzy drinks for an entire weekend are all highlights, not to mention the fact that I we all played truth or dare for many hours whilst getting unsuccessfully drunk. However this weekend has been much of an eye-opener to me, although Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb shall never know. Being away from my home area made me realise how secretly lonely I am. I mean I'm not going to be investing in a cat any time soon ... I'm not that lonely, but It did make me think about my relationship status and even more so about putting myself up on the shelf again. Thing is though, its a high shelf and a log way to fall if it all goes wrong again. That and how ca I guarantee that I wont just be left there? I know I'm only young at 21 but I found myself straying from the girls, wondering round the baby section of an expensive department store; cooing and touching all the toys and blankets, clothes and furnishings for a child's nursery. A familiar feeling returned to me that reminded me that, whilst on contraception and not wanting to start a family until I had a marriage and stability, my biological clock was ticking by. I tried to bring up the subject as Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I traipsed around. Strangely it was Miss Tweedle-Dee who sympathised and expressed the same concern, whereas Miss Tweedle-Dumb who is settled and in a steady relationship is not so worried. It truly terrifies me that I shall get to an age where I have nothing to show for my time on this planet, not a marriage, career or child in site. Just me. Alone. I am praying that this is never the case.
On a lighter note, the girls and I all made a trip to a well-know 'adult' high street store and whilst a very British me just blushed and stood around looking embarrassed and out of place, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb decided to invest in a 'life-enhancing personal device'. After much negotiation and begging they gave in with trying to convince me to buy one and themselves went up to the counter and completed their seedy purchases separately. I on the other hand, within minutes of getting home on the Sunday evening was online looking at things that vibrate, swivel, pulse, gyrate, bend and twist. Its ordered for delivery tomorrow. At work. I hope its not too obvious. Could be quite awkward explaining away a buzzing box to the boss? Its not that I'm frigid or non-sexual, Its just that I'm indifferent to it. If you offered me sex with the right person (and from previous experience the wrong ones too) I would gladly oblige. But somehow self-exploration is way down on my to do list of a night. I would much rather eat unhealthy snacks and watch telly wrapped up in bed, thank-you. Funnily enough I was discussing this with Mr. Mot last week. He had asked why I didn't 'indulge' and I responded in the only way I know how - I giggled and brushed it off. But there is no getting around Mr. Mot, oh-no; so I gave in and spilled. "Why should I bother trying to do it myself and get no-where when I can just find someone who can do it much better than I can and produce better results?" At this point I had rather pissed on Mr. Mot's bonfire as I think he was hoping that the conversation would progress in its usual late-night manner. I tried to explain that ever since I was sexually curious there had always been someone around to lend a hand as it were. They came and they went but my most constant and regular entertainer was a big secret to all who knew me in school.
Mr. Woof liked the oddest of things, hence the naming here. We have been friends since meeting in the second year of High School and pretty much as soon as we met our liaisons began. In school, Mr. Woof was quite shy when it came to being in 'public' as it were but behind a few closed corridor doors and next to my green locker he was a demanding animal that like to rule and be ruled. Mr. Woof had a fondness for his own nipples being pleasured and enjoyed me playing with them very much. Several times we nearly got caught in the act, and I am sure that on many occasions my tutor knew something odd was happening outside her classroom - I mean, who spends nearly three hour-long lunchtimes a week standing by a locker "hugging" a friend. As we got older the intensity was stepped up. Math class was shared sitting next to each other whilst Mr. Woof's hands wandered over my school skirt and I talked to him about the work in a low, sensual voice. During a Saturday morning revision class Mr. Woof and I met early and went into one of the new recently built toilets. There we experimented with soft foreplay, biting, sucking, scratching. The fact that I was wearing glasses and had purposely worn red lipstick was something of a turn on for him, even now. I knew what I was doing, any sixteen year old does. It was fun and I enjoyed the secrecy of it all. The little affair with the boy who I had a crush on for ages and who was dating one of my closest school friends. Of course all secrets come out eventually and after that everything was on hold for a while until it quietened down again. But I had lost a good friend and lots of other pals had also turned there backs on me because of the leaked liaisons.
After school ended we went our separate ways, developed as people and went into study. I went on to have several partners and loose my virginity with someone who actually meant something to me, whereas he attempted university, dropped out discovered drink and drugs and continued to think that his rock band would become the next big thing. Mr. Woof turned into something of a womaniser and was well known for being a Harlequin. Rumour had it he lost his virginity to a forty year-old beside the bins at the back of a local pub. Classy! Mr. Woof made an appearance throughout my love-life, weather I was with someone or not, however it must be noted that none of my ex-partners ever took a liking to him. Mr. Woof and I had lost contact for a while after Mr. Workaholic had banned me from communicating with him, but got back in touch a few months after we split. It started as it always had with a "Hi, how are you?" and a person to make me laugh which was hard at that time. After reading the Fifty Shades novels I decided to embark on something of my own contract. And so we began another affair. Again I knew what I was getting into, but unlike in school where by I had a major crush on this guy, I had just come out of a long term relationship and needed something that was no-strings-attached fun. Something to make me smile and brighten up my otherwise gloomy day. Mostly it was just phone calls, usually relieving Mr. Woof of some form. Any time I would be there to answer his calls - late night, my lunch hour at work, even three-in the morning; you name it I did every possible shift. A round the clock help-line I suppose. But I enjoyed it, it brought me relief and helped me boost my self-esteem. Admittedly Mr. Woof was into some weirder things now we were older, ad I don't suppose Fifty Shades helped either. Strap-on's, dressing him in women's clothes, nipple clamps, name-calling and spitting were all part an parcel of our verbally drawn up contract. For once I wasn't on the receiving end and was able to dish out punishment like mash at dinner time. On one occasion, late at night I had grown tired and was knowledgeable to the fact that he was close and so told him to bark for me. Mr. Woof hesitated at first but after demanding it he obliged and barked softly. Upon further instruction from his mistress he woofed louder at which point must have felt good as he finished, panting that it was the best session yet.
Encounters like this make me smile with happiness, knowing that I can bring pleasure and relief to someone is a good feeling and to be in control and dominate someone id a great feeling I had never experienced before Mr. Woof came along - pardon the pun. I like the fact that nothing is hidden, all cards are on the table and we ca be honest about the fact that what we have be it past and future is no strings attached fun with no feelings getting involved and therefore avoiding a messy end situation. And whilst we are not in contact at the moment, I am sure that it wont be before long that he has finished with the most recent Beau on the block and comes crawling back to his mistress!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So after my girlie weekend away I have come back relaxed and refreshed. It hasn't been without its spills though. nearly becoming human ice-cubes waiting for a cab after going to the theatre, arguments over who stank out the bathroom last and living off of pizza and fizzy drinks for an entire weekend are all highlights, not to mention the fact that I we all played truth or dare for many hours whilst getting unsuccessfully drunk. However this weekend has been much of an eye-opener to me, although Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb shall never know. Being away from my home area made me realise how secretly lonely I am. I mean I'm not going to be investing in a cat any time soon ... I'm not that lonely, but It did make me think about my relationship status and even more so about putting myself up on the shelf again. Thing is though, its a high shelf and a log way to fall if it all goes wrong again. That and how ca I guarantee that I wont just be left there? I know I'm only young at 21 but I found myself straying from the girls, wondering round the baby section of an expensive department store; cooing and touching all the toys and blankets, clothes and furnishings for a child's nursery. A familiar feeling returned to me that reminded me that, whilst on contraception and not wanting to start a family until I had a marriage and stability, my biological clock was ticking by. I tried to bring up the subject as Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I traipsed around. Strangely it was Miss Tweedle-Dee who sympathised and expressed the same concern, whereas Miss Tweedle-Dumb who is settled and in a steady relationship is not so worried. It truly terrifies me that I shall get to an age where I have nothing to show for my time on this planet, not a marriage, career or child in site. Just me. Alone. I am praying that this is never the case.
On a lighter note, the girls and I all made a trip to a well-know 'adult' high street store and whilst a very British me just blushed and stood around looking embarrassed and out of place, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb decided to invest in a 'life-enhancing personal device'. After much negotiation and begging they gave in with trying to convince me to buy one and themselves went up to the counter and completed their seedy purchases separately. I on the other hand, within minutes of getting home on the Sunday evening was online looking at things that vibrate, swivel, pulse, gyrate, bend and twist. Its ordered for delivery tomorrow. At work. I hope its not too obvious. Could be quite awkward explaining away a buzzing box to the boss? Its not that I'm frigid or non-sexual, Its just that I'm indifferent to it. If you offered me sex with the right person (and from previous experience the wrong ones too) I would gladly oblige. But somehow self-exploration is way down on my to do list of a night. I would much rather eat unhealthy snacks and watch telly wrapped up in bed, thank-you. Funnily enough I was discussing this with Mr. Mot last week. He had asked why I didn't 'indulge' and I responded in the only way I know how - I giggled and brushed it off. But there is no getting around Mr. Mot, oh-no; so I gave in and spilled. "Why should I bother trying to do it myself and get no-where when I can just find someone who can do it much better than I can and produce better results?" At this point I had rather pissed on Mr. Mot's bonfire as I think he was hoping that the conversation would progress in its usual late-night manner. I tried to explain that ever since I was sexually curious there had always been someone around to lend a hand as it were. They came and they went but my most constant and regular entertainer was a big secret to all who knew me in school.
Mr. Woof liked the oddest of things, hence the naming here. We have been friends since meeting in the second year of High School and pretty much as soon as we met our liaisons began. In school, Mr. Woof was quite shy when it came to being in 'public' as it were but behind a few closed corridor doors and next to my green locker he was a demanding animal that like to rule and be ruled. Mr. Woof had a fondness for his own nipples being pleasured and enjoyed me playing with them very much. Several times we nearly got caught in the act, and I am sure that on many occasions my tutor knew something odd was happening outside her classroom - I mean, who spends nearly three hour-long lunchtimes a week standing by a locker "hugging" a friend. As we got older the intensity was stepped up. Math class was shared sitting next to each other whilst Mr. Woof's hands wandered over my school skirt and I talked to him about the work in a low, sensual voice. During a Saturday morning revision class Mr. Woof and I met early and went into one of the new recently built toilets. There we experimented with soft foreplay, biting, sucking, scratching. The fact that I was wearing glasses and had purposely worn red lipstick was something of a turn on for him, even now. I knew what I was doing, any sixteen year old does. It was fun and I enjoyed the secrecy of it all. The little affair with the boy who I had a crush on for ages and who was dating one of my closest school friends. Of course all secrets come out eventually and after that everything was on hold for a while until it quietened down again. But I had lost a good friend and lots of other pals had also turned there backs on me because of the leaked liaisons.
After school ended we went our separate ways, developed as people and went into study. I went on to have several partners and loose my virginity with someone who actually meant something to me, whereas he attempted university, dropped out discovered drink and drugs and continued to think that his rock band would become the next big thing. Mr. Woof turned into something of a womaniser and was well known for being a Harlequin. Rumour had it he lost his virginity to a forty year-old beside the bins at the back of a local pub. Classy! Mr. Woof made an appearance throughout my love-life, weather I was with someone or not, however it must be noted that none of my ex-partners ever took a liking to him. Mr. Woof and I had lost contact for a while after Mr. Workaholic had banned me from communicating with him, but got back in touch a few months after we split. It started as it always had with a "Hi, how are you?" and a person to make me laugh which was hard at that time. After reading the Fifty Shades novels I decided to embark on something of my own contract. And so we began another affair. Again I knew what I was getting into, but unlike in school where by I had a major crush on this guy, I had just come out of a long term relationship and needed something that was no-strings-attached fun. Something to make me smile and brighten up my otherwise gloomy day. Mostly it was just phone calls, usually relieving Mr. Woof of some form. Any time I would be there to answer his calls - late night, my lunch hour at work, even three-in the morning; you name it I did every possible shift. A round the clock help-line I suppose. But I enjoyed it, it brought me relief and helped me boost my self-esteem. Admittedly Mr. Woof was into some weirder things now we were older, ad I don't suppose Fifty Shades helped either. Strap-on's, dressing him in women's clothes, nipple clamps, name-calling and spitting were all part an parcel of our verbally drawn up contract. For once I wasn't on the receiving end and was able to dish out punishment like mash at dinner time. On one occasion, late at night I had grown tired and was knowledgeable to the fact that he was close and so told him to bark for me. Mr. Woof hesitated at first but after demanding it he obliged and barked softly. Upon further instruction from his mistress he woofed louder at which point must have felt good as he finished, panting that it was the best session yet.
Encounters like this make me smile with happiness, knowing that I can bring pleasure and relief to someone is a good feeling and to be in control and dominate someone id a great feeling I had never experienced before Mr. Woof came along - pardon the pun. I like the fact that nothing is hidden, all cards are on the table and we ca be honest about the fact that what we have be it past and future is no strings attached fun with no feelings getting involved and therefore avoiding a messy end situation. And whilst we are not in contact at the moment, I am sure that it wont be before long that he has finished with the most recent Beau on the block and comes crawling back to his mistress!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 19 February 2013
Time to Say I Told You So ...
Hello again,
So last week was the week of the 'prowl' and can you believe that Mr. Waistcoat had a fair run with communicating. It has since however dried up, but to be honest I'm not all that bothered. And especially after the weekend I have had I really feel like becoming Asexual ... If I was ever good! I should probably explain my weekend, that might help a little.
Last week as I was finishing my last entry (A Night of Waistcoats, Free Drinks and Disappointment) I got talking to Mr. Coffee. We spoke for a while and turned into the longest conversation I have had with him in what seemed like ages. As us British do, we conversed over small talk and each others daily lives but I soon steered it in a direction I had wanted for a while. After he asked what I was doing and I replied with "finishing off the blog" came an awkward silence. It was followed by him confessing that he was an avid reader. Oops! I hadn't thought I had been that unsavoury really, given the truth and situations. regardless he promptly answered my question by saying that yes he was offended and upset by what I had written earlier and that this was a contributing factor to why he was not talking to me like we used to. the word 'Unfulfilling' came to mind and I suddenly realised that maybe I wasn't as savoury as i had once thought. But as explained it was the truth and sometimes it hurts. I had apologised and we planned a catch-up for that coming Saturday.
Friday night came and I had heard nothing from Mr. Coffee, until I logged into my Facebook page and up he popped for a chat. We confirmed the place and time we were to meet and I finally thought that this could be a start-a-fresh for us as friends and maybe something more in the future. I decided to call this a 'Make-or Break Date' in which I would really assess why I was so infatuated with Mr. Coffee. I never told him this but I was thinking that maybe after some time apart I would be able to see if there was even a fizzle between us that meant more. Unfortunately we never got to that meeting ...
One of the last things Mr. Coffee and I spoke of was his request for me to call him at 10.30am to wake him from a lazy slumber. I agreed and we departed for bed. Upon waking myself Saturday morning I went around my usual weekend duties until 10.30am came and I rang Mr. Coffee as asked. it rang - and rang - and rang - and rang again some more. no response at all. I left it for a bit not wanting to accept what my head was telling me. I called again several times before I gave up trying. Lets just conclude that I was stood up by Mr. Coffee, who I was meant to be spending the afternoon on a 'Make-or Break Date'. I think its safe to say that it was a lucky break rather than make.
It is now Tuesday and more than four days have passed by since being stood up. Still no phone call or message apologising or explaining. I had tried to justify why he hadn't turned up but came to the realisation that even your Nan dying you would still at least drop me a text to let me know. Maybe not the gentleman Mr. Coffee had made out to be? Although, as I have said, maybe it was a blessing in disguise? I say this as I met up with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb tonight and as it just so happens Miss Tweedle-Dee had some juicy gossip for us all that I shall now share with you all. So turns out that Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers, girlfriend (You still keeping up?) has been told that one of her close college friends is getting close to Mr. Coffee and that he has been trying to worm his way in. This has been going on for several weeks which would co-inside with the fact that he has not been talking to me for just as long. Funny that eh?
Regardless of all this I have been busy planning more nights out full of mayhem and mischief with Miss Chocolate as well as a mini break weekend with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb for some well earned men-free shopping. Cannot wait!
All this talk of a women only is making me very happy and ready for Summer 2013 more than ever! Bring it on!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So last week was the week of the 'prowl' and can you believe that Mr. Waistcoat had a fair run with communicating. It has since however dried up, but to be honest I'm not all that bothered. And especially after the weekend I have had I really feel like becoming Asexual ... If I was ever good! I should probably explain my weekend, that might help a little.
Last week as I was finishing my last entry (A Night of Waistcoats, Free Drinks and Disappointment) I got talking to Mr. Coffee. We spoke for a while and turned into the longest conversation I have had with him in what seemed like ages. As us British do, we conversed over small talk and each others daily lives but I soon steered it in a direction I had wanted for a while. After he asked what I was doing and I replied with "finishing off the blog" came an awkward silence. It was followed by him confessing that he was an avid reader. Oops! I hadn't thought I had been that unsavoury really, given the truth and situations. regardless he promptly answered my question by saying that yes he was offended and upset by what I had written earlier and that this was a contributing factor to why he was not talking to me like we used to. the word 'Unfulfilling' came to mind and I suddenly realised that maybe I wasn't as savoury as i had once thought. But as explained it was the truth and sometimes it hurts. I had apologised and we planned a catch-up for that coming Saturday.
Friday night came and I had heard nothing from Mr. Coffee, until I logged into my Facebook page and up he popped for a chat. We confirmed the place and time we were to meet and I finally thought that this could be a start-a-fresh for us as friends and maybe something more in the future. I decided to call this a 'Make-or Break Date' in which I would really assess why I was so infatuated with Mr. Coffee. I never told him this but I was thinking that maybe after some time apart I would be able to see if there was even a fizzle between us that meant more. Unfortunately we never got to that meeting ...
One of the last things Mr. Coffee and I spoke of was his request for me to call him at 10.30am to wake him from a lazy slumber. I agreed and we departed for bed. Upon waking myself Saturday morning I went around my usual weekend duties until 10.30am came and I rang Mr. Coffee as asked. it rang - and rang - and rang - and rang again some more. no response at all. I left it for a bit not wanting to accept what my head was telling me. I called again several times before I gave up trying. Lets just conclude that I was stood up by Mr. Coffee, who I was meant to be spending the afternoon on a 'Make-or Break Date'. I think its safe to say that it was a lucky break rather than make.
It is now Tuesday and more than four days have passed by since being stood up. Still no phone call or message apologising or explaining. I had tried to justify why he hadn't turned up but came to the realisation that even your Nan dying you would still at least drop me a text to let me know. Maybe not the gentleman Mr. Coffee had made out to be? Although, as I have said, maybe it was a blessing in disguise? I say this as I met up with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb tonight and as it just so happens Miss Tweedle-Dee had some juicy gossip for us all that I shall now share with you all. So turns out that Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers, girlfriend (You still keeping up?) has been told that one of her close college friends is getting close to Mr. Coffee and that he has been trying to worm his way in. This has been going on for several weeks which would co-inside with the fact that he has not been talking to me for just as long. Funny that eh?
Regardless of all this I have been busy planning more nights out full of mayhem and mischief with Miss Chocolate as well as a mini break weekend with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb for some well earned men-free shopping. Cannot wait!
All this talk of a women only is making me very happy and ready for Summer 2013 more than ever! Bring it on!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 5 February 2013
Its Time I Told of The Proposal
Hello again,
And so I return on this wintry Tuesday evening to dish the dirt on my past week in 'paradise'. This week has been somewhat of an eye opener to you all who read my blog every week and your opinions on it all. Several people outside and nearly everyone inside my tight knit friend circle have commented saying on how funny and laughable my life is as well as interesting and 'a good read' I think someone also mentioned. So thanks everyone, I really appreciate it.
Someone who I have yet to mention so far is Mr. Mot. Now, the thing is that Mr. Mot and I go back a very long time, as far back as sixth form. We met through my Boyfriend of the time, a rugby playing hunk with a sweet heart and a lot of love to share. Boyfriend at the time didn't like Mr. Mot and neither has any Boyfriend since. Mr. Mot however is my agony aunt. He listens and is sympathetic whilst harsh and tells me what to do; which is helpful for a girl who cant make up her mind sometimes. However there is always some tension there. Even from the very beginning. Harmless flirty messages, games and jokes all lead somewhere I suppose. No smoke without fire? Even if me and Mr. Mot were to try and make a go, we never seem to find the right time as one of us is always in a relationship, not that this makes the difference for him and his straying ways. I must point out however that this will never happen as he's just not my type, although we have agreed if we reach our 30's and still haven't met anyone, we would make beautiful children. A proposal was made some weeks ago, maybe months even, concerning an 'arrangment' should be drawn up in the hope to satisfy both of our very frustrating and somewhat blipped sex-lives after I had explained that I never performed for myself as such and wasn't getting any male attention and so as a result was becoming very frustrated and needed a 'release'. Mr. Mot agreed and said that whilst he was settled into a relationship the sex was not as often as he would have liked and wanted more, specifically from me. As Mr. Mot is in a somewhat serious, long-distance relationship I see that there is obvious outcomes to what might happen if the shit hit the fan, which in these cases is a 'when' rather than an 'if'. I am persuaded by the naughtiness of it all and the secretiveness that it brings, however as Miss Chocolate put it "How would you feel if the boot was on the other foot?" And shes right. I have been cheated on and been a cheater, although it was only a kiss and a fumble I am still not proud to admit it. Miss Chocolate would have a lot of experience in this department dare I say. Filthy devil you!
Somehow though last night it dawned on me that in actual fact I don't want Mr. Mot regardless of how big his Bavarian sausage is or how he could easily satisfy me in bed. I want someone who will love me and cherish me. Make me there princess but also a little of something darker - if you follow my drift! But then the thoughts start to head back round in the same circle as they have been for weeks. And yet again Mr. Coffee is topic of conversation. I know that at this point, after not talking for so long I should just give up trying, but for some odd reason I cant. Call it obsession or just plain dog with a bone (pardon the ironic pun ladies and gents) but I just cant seem to get him out of my head. o matter what I do he just wont get out of my damn brain! The more I silently scream "Go away your not wanted here because you are not cooperating with my plans to get with you!" the more Mr. Coffee sits back and looks teasingly tempting. I have laid one last ditch attempt to apologise for my swift direction of feeling and plan on hatching this plot around that sickening time of year we Brits call St. Valentines Day. To be brutally honest I'm looking more forward to the pancake day that is, this year, 48 hours prior. Even me typing is making me think of the way we kissed passionately in the rain as he lured me seductively back t his warm embrace ... Anyway!
After getting paid last Friday and slogging my guts out behind a bar at a local football club where I was helping Miss Tweedle-Dee, I planned on having a girly night out with Miss Chocolate however that fell through and is now organised for this coming weekend, so lock up your sons! Watch out men of Bedfordshire were coming to get you ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
And so I return on this wintry Tuesday evening to dish the dirt on my past week in 'paradise'. This week has been somewhat of an eye opener to you all who read my blog every week and your opinions on it all. Several people outside and nearly everyone inside my tight knit friend circle have commented saying on how funny and laughable my life is as well as interesting and 'a good read' I think someone also mentioned. So thanks everyone, I really appreciate it.
Someone who I have yet to mention so far is Mr. Mot. Now, the thing is that Mr. Mot and I go back a very long time, as far back as sixth form. We met through my Boyfriend of the time, a rugby playing hunk with a sweet heart and a lot of love to share. Boyfriend at the time didn't like Mr. Mot and neither has any Boyfriend since. Mr. Mot however is my agony aunt. He listens and is sympathetic whilst harsh and tells me what to do; which is helpful for a girl who cant make up her mind sometimes. However there is always some tension there. Even from the very beginning. Harmless flirty messages, games and jokes all lead somewhere I suppose. No smoke without fire? Even if me and Mr. Mot were to try and make a go, we never seem to find the right time as one of us is always in a relationship, not that this makes the difference for him and his straying ways. I must point out however that this will never happen as he's just not my type, although we have agreed if we reach our 30's and still haven't met anyone, we would make beautiful children. A proposal was made some weeks ago, maybe months even, concerning an 'arrangment' should be drawn up in the hope to satisfy both of our very frustrating and somewhat blipped sex-lives after I had explained that I never performed for myself as such and wasn't getting any male attention and so as a result was becoming very frustrated and needed a 'release'. Mr. Mot agreed and said that whilst he was settled into a relationship the sex was not as often as he would have liked and wanted more, specifically from me. As Mr. Mot is in a somewhat serious, long-distance relationship I see that there is obvious outcomes to what might happen if the shit hit the fan, which in these cases is a 'when' rather than an 'if'. I am persuaded by the naughtiness of it all and the secretiveness that it brings, however as Miss Chocolate put it "How would you feel if the boot was on the other foot?" And shes right. I have been cheated on and been a cheater, although it was only a kiss and a fumble I am still not proud to admit it. Miss Chocolate would have a lot of experience in this department dare I say. Filthy devil you!
Somehow though last night it dawned on me that in actual fact I don't want Mr. Mot regardless of how big his Bavarian sausage is or how he could easily satisfy me in bed. I want someone who will love me and cherish me. Make me there princess but also a little of something darker - if you follow my drift! But then the thoughts start to head back round in the same circle as they have been for weeks. And yet again Mr. Coffee is topic of conversation. I know that at this point, after not talking for so long I should just give up trying, but for some odd reason I cant. Call it obsession or just plain dog with a bone (pardon the ironic pun ladies and gents) but I just cant seem to get him out of my head. o matter what I do he just wont get out of my damn brain! The more I silently scream "Go away your not wanted here because you are not cooperating with my plans to get with you!" the more Mr. Coffee sits back and looks teasingly tempting. I have laid one last ditch attempt to apologise for my swift direction of feeling and plan on hatching this plot around that sickening time of year we Brits call St. Valentines Day. To be brutally honest I'm looking more forward to the pancake day that is, this year, 48 hours prior. Even me typing is making me think of the way we kissed passionately in the rain as he lured me seductively back t his warm embrace ... Anyway!
After getting paid last Friday and slogging my guts out behind a bar at a local football club where I was helping Miss Tweedle-Dee, I planned on having a girly night out with Miss Chocolate however that fell through and is now organised for this coming weekend, so lock up your sons! Watch out men of Bedfordshire were coming to get you ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
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