Evening Guys,
On closing my eyes I have somehow been transported to a district that I have never been to before. Down a single country Lane surrounded by trees and bushes and on the opposite side of the road to where I was stood I could see the rolling countryside and disappearing sun. Mr. Warehouse appeared soon after and we entered the Cottage-Barn type venue to have a look around. Looking around however I couldn't help but get the feeling that we were either being watched or preyed upon. As my fiance and I wandered around the dark wood stained walls and buildings, I felt myself constantly looking over my shoulder. It wasn't long before I saw him. Mr. Workaholic.
Making some sort of excuse I left Mr Warehouse to look around the remaining of the buildings and out houses, following Mr Workaholic into a quieter area of the estate I asked him rather frantically what an earth he thought he was doing here.
"I needed to see you" He muttered, hushed so as not to be discovered.
"I am a engaged woman now and you have no right turn up here - What were you thinking?" I demanded, terrified about Mr Warehouse made come along and think that something was going on when it was not. As Mr. Workaholic took me further away from my husband to be, my Ex and I snuck around the lush gardens, fountains and water features of the grounds. Mr Workaholic continued his soliloquy saying that he was unable to let me go ahead with the wedding.
"This should have been somewhere that we would have been at time at the knot, not you and someone else. I cant let you go through with this - Please lets try again?" Mr Workaholic cooed. This was beginning to get dangerous as I could feel myself getting hotter as the moments passed. I continued to feel as though I was cheating on Mr Warehouse even though I had done nothing wrong. Just being in the same company and presence as Mr Workaholic was just as potent as before and as time went on talking about how we used to be I struggled to keep my cool.
And as I walked closely with Mr Workaholic through the dark Forest like environment I wondered why. Why now huh?! Why would he choose this moment or this time in my life when I am happy and settled, ready to start a new beginning with someone to come back into my life and want to start again. It was Mr Workaholic that ended it all between us! Now don't get me wrong it wasn't a relationship that ended badly in the sense that there was infidelity or anything, just that Mr. Workaholic felt there was more out there than me and he wanted to find it all out. As we stopped walking amongst some trees, Mr. Workaholic turned to me and asked me to leave it all behind. As the raging battle inside my head continued, I try to reason with myself. Yes Mr. Workaholic was a brilliant lover back in the day, the best maybe - or so I thought at the time. But I have to remember that Mr. Workaholic was also the same person that left me screaming and begging in absolute turmoil as he drove away, leaving me in the home you used to share with a shattered life and a broken heart. I felt so stupid. Why should I be getting emotionally involved in something that had ended over six years ago? My memoirs started to flood back and were a stark and brutally honest reminder of how things genuinely used to be - Play fights that got out of hand, annoying each other and Mr. Workaholic putting me down or making horrid comments about me - Something Mr Warehouse would never do. But there were also laughs and giggles and happiness.
"I am an engaged woman and I'm happily in a relationship where I mean something to someone and I to them. I cant just throw it all away like you did." I said, appalled at the notion I had been wanting for so long all them years ago. Mr. Workaholic decided to call it off in late Spring, nearly seven years ago and I suppose I never really got over it totally but it was those darker thoughts and feelings I was desperately trying to cling on to so as to hold off the passion and lust I still felt raging up inside me. But it was too much. Reasoning and promising me that things would be different this time, Mr. Workaholic leaned in closer and we passionately kissed. Shocked, horrified and stunned I backed away and surprised myself by saying "OK"
I needed to let my fiance know that the wedding was off and the engagement was over. Finding my way back to the dark wood stained barn I found Mr Warehouse wondering where I was standing around and waiting for me. I felt awful as I left Mr Workaholic in the shadows, but not nearly as awful as I would feel having to go through with what I was about to do. An emotionally charged goodbye ensued with me explaining it that it was simply not Mr Warehouse that was to blame and that this was something that I had selfishly wanted for some time.
"I love you" I said as I left, saying goodbye to the same distraught and heartbroken face that I knew only too well.
Returning to Mr Workaholic I wondered if I have done the right thing by going back to him. It had not worked once before and would give good reason to it not working again second time around. Nevertheless I pushed all of this to the back of my mind as I left Mr Warehouse to gather his things to leave. Hours seemed to woosh past in a rush of excitement and giddiness. Yet I felt like there was something ever so foreboding. Something was not right. Then suddenly I knew. Standing with bags packed and ready to go in Mr Workaholic's girlie white hatchback I knew I couldn't do this. Running all the way back to the almost black, wood-stained barn I found Mr Warehouse packing his bags and ready to leave, tail well and truly between his legs. And like in some kind of Hollywood movie I ran and embraced Mr. Warehouse as hard as I could never to let go again. Kissing and holding each other I began apologising and telling Mr. Warehouse that it will never happen again that he was the only one; The one and only for me.
It was not long after this that I suppose I awoke from it all. In the knowledge that it was just a weird dream, almost nightmarish in its approach that I was unable to wake from. In my half-sleep-slumber I was forced to live up to the reality of my subconscious thoughts. Although in reality it was a Monday morning and Mr Warehouse was in no mood to be hearing of my fantastical dreams, no matter how scarily thought provoking or poignant. I suppose I will save that for another day ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Kissing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kissing. Show all posts
Monday, 29 October 2018
Monday, 16 February 2015
L'amour est dans l'air!
Morning everybody,
Much love to one and all this week as Valentines day sent the women into a mushy mess because their four year old made them a card and men into a panicked frenzy at the local petrol station for lack of Chrysanthemum's. Yes I, as I am sure you know by now, am not one for spending an entire day showering others with love. I prefer to give them a little bit every day instead. But that didn't stop me and the Bae, Mr. Warehouse heading to the Big Smoke for some much needed QT!
Arriving at work Friday excited and anticipating the weekend ahead I soon realised that time was dragging. Finally though the clock struck three and with my trusty partner in crime I left my desk (including several piles of papers) and headed to the station. Boarding a packed train we made quiet small talk as we people watched men on laptops and couples clearly heading for the Eurostar. Jealous ... You betcha I was! "One Day" I thought "One Day I will finally go to Paris, even if I do go it alone."
Arriving into St. Pancras International, Mr. Warehouse and I hopped straight for the tubes and over to Soho for some dinner before heading back to our hotel room, for which we weren't holding out much hope. Drizzling and wet, London was lacking the glory and romance I had wished but as we settled after our meal I wasn't quiet ready to slip under the duvet just yet. Pouring with rain Mr. Warehouse and I navigated ourselves back to a bar we had seen earlier, Adventure Bar, and as I wrestled to the bar and ordered some cocktails I knew that this was probably one of the best spontaneous ideas I had ever had! Music coursing through the underground club and bodies everywhere we turned I watched Mr. Warehouse as he sipped his first cocktail called Bramble, a concoction of several spirits, fizzy champagne and soda over slippery glass-like ice cubes. Only being seven-thirty I was surprised it was so busy but was happy with the scene and only wished I had packed a pair of heels and a sexier top. Moments later that mood was somewhat destroyed when Justin Bieber came squeaking over the speakers. Yes, it was time to leave. So as I polished off my second cocktail I slipped the drinking vessel very sneakily into my handbag. Oh how I love a large tote. And oh how I love my new Martini Glass. But as my dearest love put it the other day "If you don't drink Martini's or even cocktails at home for that fact, why have you commandeered one?" Alas he is not the sharpest of tools in the box, but he knows not to question me when it comes to anything of alcoholic content.
Walking through the streets of Soho and Piccadilly I soon made the grave understanding of mine and Mr. Warehouse's journey back to the 'Hotel'. CityMapper explained that the quickest route to our Shepherds Bush accommodation was via the District line alighting at Stamford Brook, a station I am sure you are all well established in the knowledge that this was where the late Mr. Cheese used to live and his fit flatmate also. Nevertheless I tried to control my talk of years gone by and focused on the here and now with my wonderful if a little broke Mr. Warehouse. As Mr. Warehouse and I were informed of our final destination arriving soon we geared ourselves up for disaster.
"So is this the point in which you tell me that in actual fact we have a really nice double bedroom in a posh Chiswick hotel with views of the city" Mr. Warehouse asked, worried. And I wished that was the case. I had booked the room a few days in advance with the total coming to £34.00 for the both of us for one night. Being a twenty-minute walk from any tube line I expected the worst and when I discovered it was more of a studio flat than a hotel room I had booked, all did not seem well.
"At least it will be a giggle when we tell everyone at work?!" I said as we turned into the street. Deep, pungent smells of cannabis filled our throats as we struggled to find number fifty-seven. And as the houses became more tightly packed, gardens less blooming and exteriors ever increasingly daunting the prospect that this was a good idea was fading fast.
We were greeted at the door by a gentleman and shown to our room come studio. We both held hands and took a deep breath as he placed the key in the lock. But as he opened the door we both breathed a sigh of relief as the room, while not the most spacious was certainly large enough for what we needed. A under the counter fridge, kettle (with no tea or coffee) and a microwave complimented the wardrobe and super comfy double bed. A large walk in shower in a newly fitted bathroom inclusive of toilet and a stunning white, square butler sink. I was more than happy to sign away the paperwork and check-in.
Closing the door on the way out we giggled like school children as we bounced on the bed and explored our new surroundings. Feeling like virgins again we took mere minutes to test out the bed, but not before locking that front door - Don't want any more Australians walking on in now do we?!
As morning broke over London and Valentines day began we started our morning as every couple should, and in the best way. Morning Sex! Twice I think in the end. Rolling over though in a heated embrace we discussed our plans for the day and eventually decided on a visit to London Zoo. And after a much needed shower, Mr. Warehouse and I popped out for Breakfast at an old haunt of mine and Mr. Cheese's; Carluccios. Taking a leisurely stroll back to the tube and making our way over to the Zoo we took in the sights and scenes of the city and discussed what it would be like to live somewhere such as Fulham and the likes the leafy, laid-back suburbs of London; all with their white picket fences, fancy cars and four storey houses.
No sooner had we arrived through the gates of London Zoo though I was greeted by a small child. Yes. My Valentine, Mr. Warehouse, had turned into an excited six-year-old and all at the sight of a guide book and a cast iron Gorilla. "Today is going to be entertaining" I thought to myself as we joined hands and entered the wondrous world of animals great and small. We scared each other in the creepy crawlies and reptile house. We held hands and pointed in the Monkey enclosures. We even managed to have a cheeky little kiss in the Aquarium. Exhausted and being hoofed out the Zoo at closing time we walked through colourful houses and lanes to Camden where we were due to have a table already booked, ready and waiting for us. Anticipating a quick bite to eat and getting the train back to my cosy flat in Bedford ready for cuddles on the couch just in time Saturday night TV. Alas after more than thirty-minutes and no table reservation we were not happy. Seating a frustrated and tired 'Pooh Bear' (My pet name for Mr. Warehouse. I am his Piglet) I go off to angrily speak to the staff and after a word with management I was able to get our dinner sorted, although this did mean having to share our table with another couple and also it being another forty minute before food actually arrived.
Nevertheless it was a lovely Valentines, so much so Mr. Warehouse and I were even given a blessing by a Black man preaching about god and his holy ways on the way back to Kings Cross through Camden's Alternative scene. Suffice to say that this weekend was heavenly!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Much love to one and all this week as Valentines day sent the women into a mushy mess because their four year old made them a card and men into a panicked frenzy at the local petrol station for lack of Chrysanthemum's. Yes I, as I am sure you know by now, am not one for spending an entire day showering others with love. I prefer to give them a little bit every day instead. But that didn't stop me and the Bae, Mr. Warehouse heading to the Big Smoke for some much needed QT!
Arriving at work Friday excited and anticipating the weekend ahead I soon realised that time was dragging. Finally though the clock struck three and with my trusty partner in crime I left my desk (including several piles of papers) and headed to the station. Boarding a packed train we made quiet small talk as we people watched men on laptops and couples clearly heading for the Eurostar. Jealous ... You betcha I was! "One Day" I thought "One Day I will finally go to Paris, even if I do go it alone."
Arriving into St. Pancras International, Mr. Warehouse and I hopped straight for the tubes and over to Soho for some dinner before heading back to our hotel room, for which we weren't holding out much hope. Drizzling and wet, London was lacking the glory and romance I had wished but as we settled after our meal I wasn't quiet ready to slip under the duvet just yet. Pouring with rain Mr. Warehouse and I navigated ourselves back to a bar we had seen earlier, Adventure Bar, and as I wrestled to the bar and ordered some cocktails I knew that this was probably one of the best spontaneous ideas I had ever had! Music coursing through the underground club and bodies everywhere we turned I watched Mr. Warehouse as he sipped his first cocktail called Bramble, a concoction of several spirits, fizzy champagne and soda over slippery glass-like ice cubes. Only being seven-thirty I was surprised it was so busy but was happy with the scene and only wished I had packed a pair of heels and a sexier top. Moments later that mood was somewhat destroyed when Justin Bieber came squeaking over the speakers. Yes, it was time to leave. So as I polished off my second cocktail I slipped the drinking vessel very sneakily into my handbag. Oh how I love a large tote. And oh how I love my new Martini Glass. But as my dearest love put it the other day "If you don't drink Martini's or even cocktails at home for that fact, why have you commandeered one?" Alas he is not the sharpest of tools in the box, but he knows not to question me when it comes to anything of alcoholic content.
Walking through the streets of Soho and Piccadilly I soon made the grave understanding of mine and Mr. Warehouse's journey back to the 'Hotel'. CityMapper explained that the quickest route to our Shepherds Bush accommodation was via the District line alighting at Stamford Brook, a station I am sure you are all well established in the knowledge that this was where the late Mr. Cheese used to live and his fit flatmate also. Nevertheless I tried to control my talk of years gone by and focused on the here and now with my wonderful if a little broke Mr. Warehouse. As Mr. Warehouse and I were informed of our final destination arriving soon we geared ourselves up for disaster.
"So is this the point in which you tell me that in actual fact we have a really nice double bedroom in a posh Chiswick hotel with views of the city" Mr. Warehouse asked, worried. And I wished that was the case. I had booked the room a few days in advance with the total coming to £34.00 for the both of us for one night. Being a twenty-minute walk from any tube line I expected the worst and when I discovered it was more of a studio flat than a hotel room I had booked, all did not seem well.
"At least it will be a giggle when we tell everyone at work?!" I said as we turned into the street. Deep, pungent smells of cannabis filled our throats as we struggled to find number fifty-seven. And as the houses became more tightly packed, gardens less blooming and exteriors ever increasingly daunting the prospect that this was a good idea was fading fast.
We were greeted at the door by a gentleman and shown to our room come studio. We both held hands and took a deep breath as he placed the key in the lock. But as he opened the door we both breathed a sigh of relief as the room, while not the most spacious was certainly large enough for what we needed. A under the counter fridge, kettle (with no tea or coffee) and a microwave complimented the wardrobe and super comfy double bed. A large walk in shower in a newly fitted bathroom inclusive of toilet and a stunning white, square butler sink. I was more than happy to sign away the paperwork and check-in.
Closing the door on the way out we giggled like school children as we bounced on the bed and explored our new surroundings. Feeling like virgins again we took mere minutes to test out the bed, but not before locking that front door - Don't want any more Australians walking on in now do we?!
As morning broke over London and Valentines day began we started our morning as every couple should, and in the best way. Morning Sex! Twice I think in the end. Rolling over though in a heated embrace we discussed our plans for the day and eventually decided on a visit to London Zoo. And after a much needed shower, Mr. Warehouse and I popped out for Breakfast at an old haunt of mine and Mr. Cheese's; Carluccios. Taking a leisurely stroll back to the tube and making our way over to the Zoo we took in the sights and scenes of the city and discussed what it would be like to live somewhere such as Fulham and the likes the leafy, laid-back suburbs of London; all with their white picket fences, fancy cars and four storey houses.
No sooner had we arrived through the gates of London Zoo though I was greeted by a small child. Yes. My Valentine, Mr. Warehouse, had turned into an excited six-year-old and all at the sight of a guide book and a cast iron Gorilla. "Today is going to be entertaining" I thought to myself as we joined hands and entered the wondrous world of animals great and small. We scared each other in the creepy crawlies and reptile house. We held hands and pointed in the Monkey enclosures. We even managed to have a cheeky little kiss in the Aquarium. Exhausted and being hoofed out the Zoo at closing time we walked through colourful houses and lanes to Camden where we were due to have a table already booked, ready and waiting for us. Anticipating a quick bite to eat and getting the train back to my cosy flat in Bedford ready for cuddles on the couch just in time Saturday night TV. Alas after more than thirty-minutes and no table reservation we were not happy. Seating a frustrated and tired 'Pooh Bear' (My pet name for Mr. Warehouse. I am his Piglet) I go off to angrily speak to the staff and after a word with management I was able to get our dinner sorted, although this did mean having to share our table with another couple and also it being another forty minute before food actually arrived.
Nevertheless it was a lovely Valentines, so much so Mr. Warehouse and I were even given a blessing by a Black man preaching about god and his holy ways on the way back to Kings Cross through Camden's Alternative scene. Suffice to say that this weekend was heavenly!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 13 October 2014
Kiss And Tell!
Hello You!
Well, well, well. What a week it has been, albeit an interesting one. So after last weeks rather cathartic post which can only be described as a messy expression of what is in my head I have thought of little else. How is it dear friends, that I always seem to get myself stuck in predicaments such as these! Now I know you are just itching to find out what happened with myself and what seems so be and increasing number of people being added to what was a very dusty and empty LBB (Little Black Book). So just so we are all on the same page here - My sleepover with Mr. ToyBoy never materialised since he was 'ill' and too sick to come over (No pun intended) and so I spent my Saturday night snuggled on my sofa under numerous blankets watching trash TV and eating banana chips dipped in peanut butter - Seriously if you haven't tried it you need to, although I have yet to experiment with Jam instead of Skippy. Nevertheless my weekend continued and more-so after a disappointing Saturday night in more ways than one I spent Sunday evening in the company of Mr. Warehouse. In fact it went as far as to be the wee small hours of this morning when he finally departed. Now I am not one to kiss and tell, despite my daily trials and tribulations. Ha! Who am I kidding - That's what I do!
I will leave it simply that I had a wonderful time in the company of someone whom I have grown quite fond of. After a few hours of talking and light flirting we ordered a take-away and for a few moments whilst plonking myself next to him on my citrus couch or fetching the sauces I felt as if I had been in that moment for years. It seemed so natural. So easy and simple. As cheesy as it sounds it felt as if it was meant to be. But for now I see Mr. Warehouse now as a close friend that I could share secrets with and tell anything too. Although there are some things I should probably shelter him and his heart from. Taking swigs from our pear Cider I could easily see this developing into one of those cosy little relationships whereby you just lounge around all day eating junk food and get progressively fat, eventually looking like you should have been classed as an extra in The Nutty Professor. Soon things got very deep and with emotional eyes ready to spill the subject was quickly changed to more benevolent matters. Flicking through an old scrap-book Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb made me for my 21st Birthday prompted me to admire how simple my days as a school girl were. As Mr. Warehouse and I paged through my documented life sandwiched into a royal blue, silk-bound book I recalled my first time and shared my experience with my date for the evening ...
Another cold, blustery and slightly damp December afternoon and as the winter months drew in I was conscience that my relaxing Wednesday afternoon always felt better in the Summer when I could get away with being late home from school. My school days finished early on a Wednesday and so the ritual was to take a leisurely walk to the other side of town back to my best friend, Mr. First's family home so we could enjoy playing house whilst his mother was out at work and younger sister was still at school. Essentially just an extension of school, our midweek afternoons were spent feeding the dog potato (In which I am pretty sure your not meant to do), making the dinner and drinking sweet, milky tea. Some of my fondest memories were spent up in his attic room with his grey-marled spaniel, having playful pillow fights, gossipping about school and using an orange and our necks pretending to make-out. It was on this cold, blustery and slightly damp Wednesday afternoon in December that something happened between Mr. First and me that would forever change the dynamic of our friendship.
Mr. First and I had finished at around lunchtime and with the usual plan to go back to his and play grown-ups still intact we headed off. As we approached the bend in the road I noted the flickering of street lamps coming on with a tinking noise as they lit up the street in the late-afternoon sun. Oddly we stopped though. Mr. First halting me in my tracks. Saying our goodbyes took longer than usual that time and I know now that this was all a matter of finding some balls. As we went to hug I suddenly saw my best friend turn his head slightly, eyes shutting I knew that this was it. This was going to be my first kiss. Outside! Alfresco! With my best guy-friend! After imagining it in secret for sometime I was secretly happy but bricking myself about what would happen. At fourteen I was completely unprepared and whilst I had watched multiple times alone in my room people make-out on films and TV I never really gave it much thought and just assumed everyone would be good at it and that the whole experience would be all fireworks, rainbows and unicorn farts! That was not the case as the name entails. Mr. First was either very inexperienced or very knowledgeable about how to do this whole 'snogging' thing!
No where to run too and realising this was going to happen whether I wanted to or not I threw caution to the wind for one of the first times in my semi-adult life and accepted Mr. First's lips on mine. As I experienced what it was like to feel another persons tongue for the first time I noted of the slipperiness and how oddly ferocious it all was. "Oh dear lord what is this?", "How do I do it?", "Am I terrible?", "Will he laugh at me?", "Why does it taste like that?", "How am I meant to do this?" and "Where did I put the 'How To Guide'?" were all that I could think about, questions whizzing round my head like a NASCAR race. Passionate as it was I felt as if I was in a washing machine on a high setting with out the option to open the door. Getting into it I felt my face begin to ache. It had never done this before and so was not used to being stretched and tightened in such a way. It was at this point I became aware of the situation. It was getting darker and with less than a fortnight to go until Christmas I was wary that my parents would freak out again if I was not back by sundown. Panicking I must have stopped my mouth from moving in such a way to allow the kissing to continue. As we pulled away from each other I watched a dog walker glare from the other side of the street oblivious to how crucial this moment was in our young lives. Feeling the pull of home and suddenly the impact of what had just happened hitting me like a tonne of bricks I turned and ran away. Without even saying anything I ran away from the boy who gave me my first proper kiss. And I didn't stop until I got home, running all three-miles. Non-stop.
I know now as a twenty-three year old that this, my first experience of kissing, is not the norm. And if for those of you it is and you too want to run away from it then please do. There is so much more to life than a bad kisser. There are the softies. The barely there kisses given usually when first getting to know someone or after an argument. Sometimes these soft smooches are given as a way of waking up a loved one in the best way someone can be woken up. Mmm, I like them. Then there are angries. Those hard, hot and heavy ones that are usually given whilst in a heated discussion or argument. Tension filled potentially angry and infected with rage those kisses are best served with lots of passion and side order of rough and maybe a little sprinkle of biting but not hard. Mmm, I like them too. And who can forget the tensioners. The kisses you have when there is a tension build up usually commencing in a 'Yes' vs. 'No' struggle of stubbornness and power to control the situation; Slowly reaching a peak whereby heads become closer, and almost to the point in which you both break out into laughter or enter into the angry kiss as before but continue the cycle round and round and round until one of you finally just says 'Fuck It' and grabs your face.
And that's another thing. When kissing what do you do with your hands and the rest of your body parts. I worry about this all the time. Whenever I am there, in the moment, enjoying (or loathing in many cases) the sensations of making out with someone, I am constantly thinking about what to do with my hands. Where do they go and what do they do? What it the limb etiquette for kissing someone tell me? For a guy its easy - Running your hands through a girls hair is sure to be a winner - At least in my case anyway. But be warned if she has a slick up-do or hair that looks as if it has been combed by a hedge then be warned, she might hit you. If in doubt always go for the neck, gently cupping her jawbone in a Hollywood inspired romantic screen kiss. Its sweet and caring and adorable and cute all at the same time whilst being a little bit controlling which is always a good thing, at least in my books.
And so I prepare myself for tomorrow - Getting my shirt ironed, making my lunch and preparing for the questions that will ensue. But I shall never Kiss and Tell ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Well, well, well. What a week it has been, albeit an interesting one. So after last weeks rather cathartic post which can only be described as a messy expression of what is in my head I have thought of little else. How is it dear friends, that I always seem to get myself stuck in predicaments such as these! Now I know you are just itching to find out what happened with myself and what seems so be and increasing number of people being added to what was a very dusty and empty LBB (Little Black Book). So just so we are all on the same page here - My sleepover with Mr. ToyBoy never materialised since he was 'ill' and too sick to come over (No pun intended) and so I spent my Saturday night snuggled on my sofa under numerous blankets watching trash TV and eating banana chips dipped in peanut butter - Seriously if you haven't tried it you need to, although I have yet to experiment with Jam instead of Skippy. Nevertheless my weekend continued and more-so after a disappointing Saturday night in more ways than one I spent Sunday evening in the company of Mr. Warehouse. In fact it went as far as to be the wee small hours of this morning when he finally departed. Now I am not one to kiss and tell, despite my daily trials and tribulations. Ha! Who am I kidding - That's what I do!
I will leave it simply that I had a wonderful time in the company of someone whom I have grown quite fond of. After a few hours of talking and light flirting we ordered a take-away and for a few moments whilst plonking myself next to him on my citrus couch or fetching the sauces I felt as if I had been in that moment for years. It seemed so natural. So easy and simple. As cheesy as it sounds it felt as if it was meant to be. But for now I see Mr. Warehouse now as a close friend that I could share secrets with and tell anything too. Although there are some things I should probably shelter him and his heart from. Taking swigs from our pear Cider I could easily see this developing into one of those cosy little relationships whereby you just lounge around all day eating junk food and get progressively fat, eventually looking like you should have been classed as an extra in The Nutty Professor. Soon things got very deep and with emotional eyes ready to spill the subject was quickly changed to more benevolent matters. Flicking through an old scrap-book Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb made me for my 21st Birthday prompted me to admire how simple my days as a school girl were. As Mr. Warehouse and I paged through my documented life sandwiched into a royal blue, silk-bound book I recalled my first time and shared my experience with my date for the evening ...
-
Another cold, blustery and slightly damp December afternoon and as the winter months drew in I was conscience that my relaxing Wednesday afternoon always felt better in the Summer when I could get away with being late home from school. My school days finished early on a Wednesday and so the ritual was to take a leisurely walk to the other side of town back to my best friend, Mr. First's family home so we could enjoy playing house whilst his mother was out at work and younger sister was still at school. Essentially just an extension of school, our midweek afternoons were spent feeding the dog potato (In which I am pretty sure your not meant to do), making the dinner and drinking sweet, milky tea. Some of my fondest memories were spent up in his attic room with his grey-marled spaniel, having playful pillow fights, gossipping about school and using an orange and our necks pretending to make-out. It was on this cold, blustery and slightly damp Wednesday afternoon in December that something happened between Mr. First and me that would forever change the dynamic of our friendship.
Mr. First and I had finished at around lunchtime and with the usual plan to go back to his and play grown-ups still intact we headed off. As we approached the bend in the road I noted the flickering of street lamps coming on with a tinking noise as they lit up the street in the late-afternoon sun. Oddly we stopped though. Mr. First halting me in my tracks. Saying our goodbyes took longer than usual that time and I know now that this was all a matter of finding some balls. As we went to hug I suddenly saw my best friend turn his head slightly, eyes shutting I knew that this was it. This was going to be my first kiss. Outside! Alfresco! With my best guy-friend! After imagining it in secret for sometime I was secretly happy but bricking myself about what would happen. At fourteen I was completely unprepared and whilst I had watched multiple times alone in my room people make-out on films and TV I never really gave it much thought and just assumed everyone would be good at it and that the whole experience would be all fireworks, rainbows and unicorn farts! That was not the case as the name entails. Mr. First was either very inexperienced or very knowledgeable about how to do this whole 'snogging' thing!
No where to run too and realising this was going to happen whether I wanted to or not I threw caution to the wind for one of the first times in my semi-adult life and accepted Mr. First's lips on mine. As I experienced what it was like to feel another persons tongue for the first time I noted of the slipperiness and how oddly ferocious it all was. "Oh dear lord what is this?", "How do I do it?", "Am I terrible?", "Will he laugh at me?", "Why does it taste like that?", "How am I meant to do this?" and "Where did I put the 'How To Guide'?" were all that I could think about, questions whizzing round my head like a NASCAR race. Passionate as it was I felt as if I was in a washing machine on a high setting with out the option to open the door. Getting into it I felt my face begin to ache. It had never done this before and so was not used to being stretched and tightened in such a way. It was at this point I became aware of the situation. It was getting darker and with less than a fortnight to go until Christmas I was wary that my parents would freak out again if I was not back by sundown. Panicking I must have stopped my mouth from moving in such a way to allow the kissing to continue. As we pulled away from each other I watched a dog walker glare from the other side of the street oblivious to how crucial this moment was in our young lives. Feeling the pull of home and suddenly the impact of what had just happened hitting me like a tonne of bricks I turned and ran away. Without even saying anything I ran away from the boy who gave me my first proper kiss. And I didn't stop until I got home, running all three-miles. Non-stop.
-
I know now as a twenty-three year old that this, my first experience of kissing, is not the norm. And if for those of you it is and you too want to run away from it then please do. There is so much more to life than a bad kisser. There are the softies. The barely there kisses given usually when first getting to know someone or after an argument. Sometimes these soft smooches are given as a way of waking up a loved one in the best way someone can be woken up. Mmm, I like them. Then there are angries. Those hard, hot and heavy ones that are usually given whilst in a heated discussion or argument. Tension filled potentially angry and infected with rage those kisses are best served with lots of passion and side order of rough and maybe a little sprinkle of biting but not hard. Mmm, I like them too. And who can forget the tensioners. The kisses you have when there is a tension build up usually commencing in a 'Yes' vs. 'No' struggle of stubbornness and power to control the situation; Slowly reaching a peak whereby heads become closer, and almost to the point in which you both break out into laughter or enter into the angry kiss as before but continue the cycle round and round and round until one of you finally just says 'Fuck It' and grabs your face.
And that's another thing. When kissing what do you do with your hands and the rest of your body parts. I worry about this all the time. Whenever I am there, in the moment, enjoying (or loathing in many cases) the sensations of making out with someone, I am constantly thinking about what to do with my hands. Where do they go and what do they do? What it the limb etiquette for kissing someone tell me? For a guy its easy - Running your hands through a girls hair is sure to be a winner - At least in my case anyway. But be warned if she has a slick up-do or hair that looks as if it has been combed by a hedge then be warned, she might hit you. If in doubt always go for the neck, gently cupping her jawbone in a Hollywood inspired romantic screen kiss. Its sweet and caring and adorable and cute all at the same time whilst being a little bit controlling which is always a good thing, at least in my books.
And so I prepare myself for tomorrow - Getting my shirt ironed, making my lunch and preparing for the questions that will ensue. But I shall never Kiss and Tell ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 22 October 2013
Meeting the Friends and Hearts That Mend
Hello to you,
My, my what a week it has been. A week of mischief, meetings and marvellous company. To be honest it was as sticky as I expected, what with meeting Mr. Cheese's friends and all. It could have been a lot worse. Like if his ex-girlfriend had turned up. Yeah could have been a tad awkward there?!
So as I sat at my desk and slogged it out at my new job in finance I realised that it was again that time in the week where it was home-time on a Friday evening. Packing my stuff up and hitching a ride to the station from a kind work colleague again I would be lying f I wasn't nervous a little bit about meeting the friends of illustrious Mr. Cheese. Although I should be thankful in the fact that I only met one, a fellow female, on Friday evening and then had the weekend to recover before meeting the old school friends gang on Sunday evening to celebrate a friends birthday. Slouched in the passenger's seat of the little red run-around as the sun slowly settled on the horizon over Bedfordshire I soon realised that in fact I did look like dog shit. My band tee and jeans were fine for work on a dress-down-Friday, but for meeting pretty much Mr. Cheese's best friend; Mmm, Not so much! Thing is that all week I had been planning what I was going to wear and how my hair would be and what style of make-up to go for. A nice sheer floaty blouse to make me look not like a hippo in drag, simple make up topped with killer heels that would hopefully wow the BFF into giving me the seal of approval. And whilst I had made it to the town where we planned to meet for dinner and drinks in good time, I knew I wouldn't have enough time to grab something new to wear. So I embraced my trampiness and rocked it in my 'cool' t-shirt and wedged-boots.
Walking from the station though I figured would be alot easier and quicker than waiting for public transport, plus it would be a fun walk. Oh and how right I was! Teetering down the road, head down, thinking of conversation starters and making sure my hair didn't go crazy I suddenly hear a voice from behind. I listened, tuning in to what they were ranting about. It was me! "Work it honey! Work it! That's it swing your hips!" the womanly voice bellowed down the busy street. As I tried to ignore it I knew I would have to turn around and acknowledge this Guru somehow. Expecting someone from America's Next Top Model shouting encouraging tips for walking in heels I was shocked to find that as I turned around it was not Tyra Banks but someone who resembled a meatball. There I was walking down Hitchin High Street, minding my own business when all of a sudden Dumpling-features starts raining down heel help. Smiling I turned back around hoping she would stop. She didn't. Continuing I could tell she wouldn't give up until I did as she asked. So I relaxed my ankles, pointed my toes, pushed my chest and my buttocks out and swayed my hips like never before. Now Girls, you know what I mean when you secretly line up the paving stones on the ground or see an empty corridor and you then spring into action, taking on the persona of a skinny model thundering down a D&G catwalk runway. Bag on your arm. Stern look on your face. Working it. Somehow the Meatball's encouragement worked and I stomped into town in style, feeling alot better about myself, despite the embarrassment.
As Mr. Cheese and I sat in the local bar awaiting the impending doom of meeting his lady friend we chatted as normal. I noticed in the corner of the bar a man sitting alone. After watching for some moments, a women walked in and sat down with him. A first date. It threw me back to my first date with Mr. Cheese and oh how memorable that one was. Gazing forever into his eyes I forgot that I looked a mess and slowly let the cider wash away my remaining fears of aesthetics. Smitten, I was about to say something I had never said out loud for the first time properly, when Mr. Cheese's old university pal arrived and I stood to greet her, knowing that I could just simply tell him later on. Conversation flowed right away, thanks to Mr. Cheese elaborating on the fact that I quiet openly fancy another one of his house-mates from uni days I have yet to meet. As giggles were shared so were stories of what we all do for a living and as time passed we began to get more hungry. And so off to the Mexican we went.
A wonderful meal later and several snigger's about the names on some of the yummy cocktails Mr. Cheese, the friend and I retired to the bar upstairs and continued the conversation around awkward moments, usually to do with me. I loved how Mr. Cheese gave me the floor to be myself and tell brilliant stories of my past, and since I adore nothing more than being the centre of attention it was perfect and it was safe to say that I was in my element. Soon minutes turned to hours and eventually it was time to go home, but not before heading for some cheeky shots in a bar nearer town. All three of us encountered slippery nipples, threesomes and nearly a screaming orgasm, all without taking our clothes off. Gotta love the naming of some drinks 'eh? Then again, I was fully aware that the screaming orgasm was only moments away when Mr. Cheese and I got home, and I'm not talking beverages.
Throwing me across the bed and diving on top of me our naked bodies embraced each other in a hot battle. Sliding me across my silken bedsheets I hung off the end of the bed whilst he made sure the neighbours knew his name. Oh what a god that man is! Defiantly one to save for the 'Bank'. Saturday morning Mr. Cheese woke me as usual when either of us sleeps over, by gently kissing me on the forehead to wake me from my slumber. How wonderful! It was at this moment that I remembered what I wanted to tell Mr. Cheese the previous evening in the pub before his female friend turned up. But before I had a chance he said how he was hungry and to be honest I needed to get up as I had a train to catch at midday to go visit my Grandad whom was in Hospital near London. "Its OK" I told myself you can let him know later on. Meeting my Uncle, Aunt and their two adorable boys I knew I would enjoy their company for the day even though the circumstances weren't great. After arriving home from the Hospital, shattered from my cousin's rambunctiousness all I wanted was a quiet Saturday evening was spent lounging in front of the box, snuggled up with Mr. Cheese and that's what I got. Laying in his arms as we drifted off to sleep I said what I had been meaning to say all weekend, but alas he had fallen asleep. Bless.
Sunday morning I felt prepared to say it again as I made breakfast for a sleepy Mr. Cheese. Mmm, Warm toasted bagels with smoked salmon and cheese spread and a pot of breakfast tea to wash it all down. I think Mr. Cheese enjoyed it at least I hoped so? Mind you, I didn't hear any complaining as he chomped down and watched Match Of The Day with me on the sofa, cuddled in a soft, fleecy blanket but before we knew it half the day had disappeared and we were sat, entwined in each others limbs watching what I call 'House Porn' which is basically really nice houses on house programmes that you know can never own without robbing a bank. Mr. Cheese and I shared ideas of the perfect home and thus a perfect image of the future was starting to blossom. Quickly I stamped it out though, knowing that I didn't want to get my hopes up and putting all my eggs in one basket.
After a lazy afternoon it was soon time for the last encounter of the weekend. The old school friends. This time I made sure I looked the dog's bollocks rather than the dog's ass. As I lay down beside Mr. Cheese as he napped I gazed longingly at his face as he dozed. I thought of what I wanted to say and how I would word it again and again. Eventually he awoke and told me how stunning I looked. I figured this was a better time than any to tell him how I had been feeling since last weekend. It was then that I confessed how I was loosing my war and that whilst I try to fight it nearly every day and at every moment I am with him, I am, in actual fact, falling madly in love with Mr. Cheese. To this his response was initially I think shock. Don't know why. I'm a babe! (Obviously ironic because I am not a babe ... Much!) He didn't really say much after that. Just silence. I genuinely did not expect anything back as I know he is not in the same place I am right now in terms of mind, body and soul; but I at least expected some words. Finally he broke the awkwardness and said that whilst he had not yet thought about those feelings or idea's yet, he did really like me and cared for me very much. Well. Its something right?
Later that evening as we walked into the quiet, country pub where Mr. Cheese and I had our second date, I felt more nervous than Friday night. A larger group and more to impress. "Bring it on!" I thought. The birthday card seemed to go down well, as did the illustrations inside. Yet again the night flew by in a haze of idle small talk and standard conversing. I spoke to a lovely man whom shared a passion for all things British like myself including Margret Thatcher - god rest her soul, and shared in my argument that England needs a lady in charge. I also talked with a training doctor/surgeon and an aspiring writer and his graphic designer girlfriend. Yes. Mr. Cheese's friends are posh. Yes. Most of them went to private schools. Yes. They all went to university and had degrees. And there I was. Little state-school, university drop-out, uninteresting me. For the first time in a long while I was in the background of the event and for some odd reason I cannot understand why, every time I went to open my mouth and say something the whole pub would go quiet, hanging on what I was about to say. And then I would just muddle my words and make a congealed mess of my sentence. Yes. I was definitely the most unintellectual person there. They must have thought I was on day release or something?! As the night wore on though and people started leaving for bed I felt more at ease and started sharing anecdote of life with the birthday boy and his missus. Then came the question.
"So, how long have you too been together then?" asked the birthday novelist himself, imposing the idea that we were in fact a couple. Awkwardly I looked at Mr. Cheese in panic, knowing that we hadn't really thought about tackling these types of questions. Stepping forward though he simple said that we had just been seeing each other for a few months. Phew! Close call. Then the question about how we met from the graphic-designer-girlfriend and I explained away our first date with ease and soon the conversation moved on, not before being told that I was a keeper and that we should totally hook up. Screaming in my head I thought "Jeez, I'm working on it here!" as I smiled politely and took the compliments, blushing and looking at the ground. As last orders were rung out from the bell by the bar I whispered to Mr. Cheese that I was going to the bathroom and to watch my bag. As I turned to walk away he pulled me back slightly before I got too far and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. Grinning like a Cheshire cat I scurried off to the bathroom and did a happy dance as I was followed by a chorus of "Awwhs" from his friends.
And so that has been my week so far, well the weekend at least. Work isn't all that interesting I am sure you will agreed. Living for the weekend is the best, especially when you have great people to spend it with. All this fluffy 'Love' stuff has got me thinking about the future though. Maybe a little too much? I mean I am still young and so is Mr. Cheese. Do I really want to tie myself down into another relationship again. I don't know. I love being single. But I also love the feeling that I get when I'm in a relationship. I like spending time with Mr. Cheese alot and can't think of anything better to do with my time. But I also have to live a little before settling down again me thinks. Uhh, and here in lies the issues!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
My, my what a week it has been. A week of mischief, meetings and marvellous company. To be honest it was as sticky as I expected, what with meeting Mr. Cheese's friends and all. It could have been a lot worse. Like if his ex-girlfriend had turned up. Yeah could have been a tad awkward there?!
So as I sat at my desk and slogged it out at my new job in finance I realised that it was again that time in the week where it was home-time on a Friday evening. Packing my stuff up and hitching a ride to the station from a kind work colleague again I would be lying f I wasn't nervous a little bit about meeting the friends of illustrious Mr. Cheese. Although I should be thankful in the fact that I only met one, a fellow female, on Friday evening and then had the weekend to recover before meeting the old school friends gang on Sunday evening to celebrate a friends birthday. Slouched in the passenger's seat of the little red run-around as the sun slowly settled on the horizon over Bedfordshire I soon realised that in fact I did look like dog shit. My band tee and jeans were fine for work on a dress-down-Friday, but for meeting pretty much Mr. Cheese's best friend; Mmm, Not so much! Thing is that all week I had been planning what I was going to wear and how my hair would be and what style of make-up to go for. A nice sheer floaty blouse to make me look not like a hippo in drag, simple make up topped with killer heels that would hopefully wow the BFF into giving me the seal of approval. And whilst I had made it to the town where we planned to meet for dinner and drinks in good time, I knew I wouldn't have enough time to grab something new to wear. So I embraced my trampiness and rocked it in my 'cool' t-shirt and wedged-boots.
Walking from the station though I figured would be alot easier and quicker than waiting for public transport, plus it would be a fun walk. Oh and how right I was! Teetering down the road, head down, thinking of conversation starters and making sure my hair didn't go crazy I suddenly hear a voice from behind. I listened, tuning in to what they were ranting about. It was me! "Work it honey! Work it! That's it swing your hips!" the womanly voice bellowed down the busy street. As I tried to ignore it I knew I would have to turn around and acknowledge this Guru somehow. Expecting someone from America's Next Top Model shouting encouraging tips for walking in heels I was shocked to find that as I turned around it was not Tyra Banks but someone who resembled a meatball. There I was walking down Hitchin High Street, minding my own business when all of a sudden Dumpling-features starts raining down heel help. Smiling I turned back around hoping she would stop. She didn't. Continuing I could tell she wouldn't give up until I did as she asked. So I relaxed my ankles, pointed my toes, pushed my chest and my buttocks out and swayed my hips like never before. Now Girls, you know what I mean when you secretly line up the paving stones on the ground or see an empty corridor and you then spring into action, taking on the persona of a skinny model thundering down a D&G catwalk runway. Bag on your arm. Stern look on your face. Working it. Somehow the Meatball's encouragement worked and I stomped into town in style, feeling alot better about myself, despite the embarrassment.
As Mr. Cheese and I sat in the local bar awaiting the impending doom of meeting his lady friend we chatted as normal. I noticed in the corner of the bar a man sitting alone. After watching for some moments, a women walked in and sat down with him. A first date. It threw me back to my first date with Mr. Cheese and oh how memorable that one was. Gazing forever into his eyes I forgot that I looked a mess and slowly let the cider wash away my remaining fears of aesthetics. Smitten, I was about to say something I had never said out loud for the first time properly, when Mr. Cheese's old university pal arrived and I stood to greet her, knowing that I could just simply tell him later on. Conversation flowed right away, thanks to Mr. Cheese elaborating on the fact that I quiet openly fancy another one of his house-mates from uni days I have yet to meet. As giggles were shared so were stories of what we all do for a living and as time passed we began to get more hungry. And so off to the Mexican we went.
A wonderful meal later and several snigger's about the names on some of the yummy cocktails Mr. Cheese, the friend and I retired to the bar upstairs and continued the conversation around awkward moments, usually to do with me. I loved how Mr. Cheese gave me the floor to be myself and tell brilliant stories of my past, and since I adore nothing more than being the centre of attention it was perfect and it was safe to say that I was in my element. Soon minutes turned to hours and eventually it was time to go home, but not before heading for some cheeky shots in a bar nearer town. All three of us encountered slippery nipples, threesomes and nearly a screaming orgasm, all without taking our clothes off. Gotta love the naming of some drinks 'eh? Then again, I was fully aware that the screaming orgasm was only moments away when Mr. Cheese and I got home, and I'm not talking beverages.
Throwing me across the bed and diving on top of me our naked bodies embraced each other in a hot battle. Sliding me across my silken bedsheets I hung off the end of the bed whilst he made sure the neighbours knew his name. Oh what a god that man is! Defiantly one to save for the 'Bank'. Saturday morning Mr. Cheese woke me as usual when either of us sleeps over, by gently kissing me on the forehead to wake me from my slumber. How wonderful! It was at this moment that I remembered what I wanted to tell Mr. Cheese the previous evening in the pub before his female friend turned up. But before I had a chance he said how he was hungry and to be honest I needed to get up as I had a train to catch at midday to go visit my Grandad whom was in Hospital near London. "Its OK" I told myself you can let him know later on. Meeting my Uncle, Aunt and their two adorable boys I knew I would enjoy their company for the day even though the circumstances weren't great. After arriving home from the Hospital, shattered from my cousin's rambunctiousness all I wanted was a quiet Saturday evening was spent lounging in front of the box, snuggled up with Mr. Cheese and that's what I got. Laying in his arms as we drifted off to sleep I said what I had been meaning to say all weekend, but alas he had fallen asleep. Bless.
Sunday morning I felt prepared to say it again as I made breakfast for a sleepy Mr. Cheese. Mmm, Warm toasted bagels with smoked salmon and cheese spread and a pot of breakfast tea to wash it all down. I think Mr. Cheese enjoyed it at least I hoped so? Mind you, I didn't hear any complaining as he chomped down and watched Match Of The Day with me on the sofa, cuddled in a soft, fleecy blanket but before we knew it half the day had disappeared and we were sat, entwined in each others limbs watching what I call 'House Porn' which is basically really nice houses on house programmes that you know can never own without robbing a bank. Mr. Cheese and I shared ideas of the perfect home and thus a perfect image of the future was starting to blossom. Quickly I stamped it out though, knowing that I didn't want to get my hopes up and putting all my eggs in one basket.
After a lazy afternoon it was soon time for the last encounter of the weekend. The old school friends. This time I made sure I looked the dog's bollocks rather than the dog's ass. As I lay down beside Mr. Cheese as he napped I gazed longingly at his face as he dozed. I thought of what I wanted to say and how I would word it again and again. Eventually he awoke and told me how stunning I looked. I figured this was a better time than any to tell him how I had been feeling since last weekend. It was then that I confessed how I was loosing my war and that whilst I try to fight it nearly every day and at every moment I am with him, I am, in actual fact, falling madly in love with Mr. Cheese. To this his response was initially I think shock. Don't know why. I'm a babe! (Obviously ironic because I am not a babe ... Much!) He didn't really say much after that. Just silence. I genuinely did not expect anything back as I know he is not in the same place I am right now in terms of mind, body and soul; but I at least expected some words. Finally he broke the awkwardness and said that whilst he had not yet thought about those feelings or idea's yet, he did really like me and cared for me very much. Well. Its something right?
Later that evening as we walked into the quiet, country pub where Mr. Cheese and I had our second date, I felt more nervous than Friday night. A larger group and more to impress. "Bring it on!" I thought. The birthday card seemed to go down well, as did the illustrations inside. Yet again the night flew by in a haze of idle small talk and standard conversing. I spoke to a lovely man whom shared a passion for all things British like myself including Margret Thatcher - god rest her soul, and shared in my argument that England needs a lady in charge. I also talked with a training doctor/surgeon and an aspiring writer and his graphic designer girlfriend. Yes. Mr. Cheese's friends are posh. Yes. Most of them went to private schools. Yes. They all went to university and had degrees. And there I was. Little state-school, university drop-out, uninteresting me. For the first time in a long while I was in the background of the event and for some odd reason I cannot understand why, every time I went to open my mouth and say something the whole pub would go quiet, hanging on what I was about to say. And then I would just muddle my words and make a congealed mess of my sentence. Yes. I was definitely the most unintellectual person there. They must have thought I was on day release or something?! As the night wore on though and people started leaving for bed I felt more at ease and started sharing anecdote of life with the birthday boy and his missus. Then came the question.
"So, how long have you too been together then?" asked the birthday novelist himself, imposing the idea that we were in fact a couple. Awkwardly I looked at Mr. Cheese in panic, knowing that we hadn't really thought about tackling these types of questions. Stepping forward though he simple said that we had just been seeing each other for a few months. Phew! Close call. Then the question about how we met from the graphic-designer-girlfriend and I explained away our first date with ease and soon the conversation moved on, not before being told that I was a keeper and that we should totally hook up. Screaming in my head I thought "Jeez, I'm working on it here!" as I smiled politely and took the compliments, blushing and looking at the ground. As last orders were rung out from the bell by the bar I whispered to Mr. Cheese that I was going to the bathroom and to watch my bag. As I turned to walk away he pulled me back slightly before I got too far and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. Grinning like a Cheshire cat I scurried off to the bathroom and did a happy dance as I was followed by a chorus of "Awwhs" from his friends.
And so that has been my week so far, well the weekend at least. Work isn't all that interesting I am sure you will agreed. Living for the weekend is the best, especially when you have great people to spend it with. All this fluffy 'Love' stuff has got me thinking about the future though. Maybe a little too much? I mean I am still young and so is Mr. Cheese. Do I really want to tie myself down into another relationship again. I don't know. I love being single. But I also love the feeling that I get when I'm in a relationship. I like spending time with Mr. Cheese alot and can't think of anything better to do with my time. But I also have to live a little before settling down again me thinks. Uhh, and here in lies the issues!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 17 September 2013
Bombarded With Questions!
Morning All,
Hard to believe that this time last year I was still in the gloomy rainclouds of my break-up with Mr. Workaholic. A year on, with the sunshine and rainbows of last week still lingering I couldn't think of a time where I have been happier in a long while. The pestering questions are still there from last week, constantly nagging and reminding me that at some point a decision has to be made - But after the weekend I have had, I think that a special someone has already made that decision for me ...
So after a few days off work from my old job at the windscreen company I began to prepare for a lazy weekend with Mr. Cheese as well as my fast approaching first day in the new role as an office junior in the finance sector. The Tweedles and I had planned a night out on the tiles at a gay bar but unfortunately Miss Tweedle-Dumb was involved in a car accident on the way home from work. Thankfully everyone was OK but sadly the car was not and as a result was a write off. Rest in peace 'Blu Cantrell' the Corsa. Nevertheless I was glad to have the Friday evening to prepare myself for a day (and even more so an evening) with Mr. Cheese. And so the pampering, preening and all-round de-fuzz was to commence!
At just gone eleven in the morning I was greeted with a wide smile, a hug and an unexpected kiss from Mr. Cheese as he rocked up in his cute blue car and away we went. First on the agenda for the day was a walk around the countryside just outside of Bedford in his home village. Trundling down the country back road's I could hear his nerves showing in the way he drove and I tried my best to be as still and as silent so as not to make his disposition worse. As we approached his village he went on to explain his younger brother's eighteenth the previous evening and how all the family had arrived to celebrate. I didn't really need an answer to the next question I was about to ask because as Mr. Cheese pulled the tiny car into the farm lane on which he lived outside the balloon adorned house was several cars. Not only this but the vehicle's were also accompanied by their owners and passengers. The Family! They hadn't left as early as Mr. Cheese had hoped and now I was about to meet the potential in-laws! There was Grandma's and Uncle's and Aunt's and Cousin's. Alot to take in but as the engine was switched off and the driver's door was opened I knew I had to make an impression; And a good one at that.
Stepping out of the car onto the wet gravel I walked toward Mr. Cheese, slightly nervous and anxious about being thrust into the limelight. I enjoyed knowing that this was maybe the start of something a little more serious than a couple of dates and secret nights spent in each others arms. I was introduced as 'Abbey' and before Mr. Cheese even had the chance to give me a dreaded label I said hello and politely waved. Seconds later everyone left and I could breath easy. Until that is I took not of the abode we were at. A beautiful family home set in wild countryside and with modern extensions but still keeping a oldy-worldy vibe. Staring at the front door and the scenery surrounding it I couldn't have though of a more idealistic and perfect family home. Shushing my own thoughts of future family and pushing them aside Mr. Cheese apologised and swiftly welcomed me in. The inside was just as mind-blowing as the exterior. I wouldn't have been able to imagine such perfection and quaintness if I tried. Several reception rooms, a large beautiful garden adorned with flowers and a secret vegetable patch as well as a glorious kitchen and lounge for entertaining. I couldn't have dreamt it any nicer.
After once again fighting the urge to flap about his parents house we decided to have a warm cuppa before heading out on our walk. After finishing up and popping everything in the sink we went to out our shoes on. But what was that. I heard foot steps on the landing. Youngest of all four brothers was up and like Batman himself hoofed down the stairs only to be greeted by a strange lady with purple-hair and wearing a dungaree dress. I said hello. It was only polite. After making very, very small talk with the teenager Mr. Cheese and I held hands as we walked the country lanes and farm land surrounding his majestic home. Carefully manoeuvring our way across muddy fields I felt like I was a kid again; Laughing and giggling without a care in the world. Just me and my Mr.Cheese!
Once we had reached a beauty spot we turned to look out over the hills towards Bedford itself watching it rise in the chilly weekend sunshine. Turning to me we began to cuddle and it wasn't long before we started to make idle chit-chat. Now after my awfully embarrassing stint on the box with regards to the dating show I went on in May/June I have since been blessed with the pet name 'Lemon Lady'. I think it's cute and says alot about both our personalities. All of a sudden though, as if I hadn't had enough shock for the day so far I think I heard some frightening but very romantically sweet words escape from Mr. Cheese's soft and kissable lips.After pulling me into his torso for a snuggle he made what seemed to me to be a passing comment. A simple gesture of appreciation. "I love you Lemon Lady" Mr. Cheese said through hushed tones. I heard it though. We both did. Or did we? Did I? Did he just say the 'L' word in a round about way? Oh goodness! A little speechless I lay against his warm body as he stroked my hair. As the silence set in I knew that there would be more questions to add to the growing list!
Arriving back at Mr. Cheese's family home I was greeted by his other older brother and again sat down for some more tea before once again heading off out for a potter around some local shops and coffee shops. Returning to the house simply to drop off the car we had a brief chat with the brothers about football and I stood there pretending to know what they were on about. But then the door went and in walks the king and queen of the palace! Mother and Father. Shortly followed by the birthday boy himself after visiting a university together. Smiling and wide-eyed I tried my hardest not to be terrified of meeting the people who probably meant the most to Mr. Cheese. They seemed wonderful, loving and warm people and as I left that afternoon I was hoped to been seen again from Mumma Cheese. I took it with a pinch of salt and tried not to think about the future in too much detail. Best not to get your hopes up in these situations unless they come tumbling down.
Then it was back to mine for what was meant to be a relaxing film before dinner out at a fancy restaurant. Safe to say that the film was never shown but I had starters before we even left my flat. Cheeky I know but that is the one thing that I enjoy doing to a lover. Going down on someone can be hard for alot of girls and women out there, hell I was once one of them - Terrified of the 'S or S' situation as well as the taste and the whole issue of fellatio. But for Mr. Cheese it's much more than just 'giving head'. The trembles and quivers make it all worth it, not to mention the way it send shivers down my own spine. Besides compared to the rest of my previous Don Juan's, Mr. Cheese is by far the tastiest of all my meals!
After dinner I went to the bathroom only to discover something horrifying! I wont mention what but it was scary and could well have ruined the evenings entertainment but I am glad to say that it was just a blip (no pun intended) and all is well. Just to be on the safe side, it was done with the lights off just in case Aunt Urma did make an unwelcome appearance between the sheets. Returning to the table Mr. Cheese continued conversation and somehow we got around to the subject of Christmas, especially what with being less than a hundred days to go! Once more the shock train hit me, but this time at a much higher speed and one that has left me pondering and stressing about this since it was first bairn. Through hushed voices and nervous mumbles Mr. Cheese asked me to join him and his family for Christmas away visiting more family in a snowy picturesque part of the North-East England. As romantically beautiful as it is the idea of being away from my own family at such an important time of year brings about a bunch more of questions. I could tell that Mr. Cheese meant well and really wanted me to be there but I just don't know if I could live up to the ex-girlfriend. I'm not a Cambridge Anthropology student and I don't have a high flying career or even anything that exciting about me I don't think so I don't know how his family will see me when compared to her. Besides you can't just invite a 'new friend' to spend Christmas with the possible in-laws. There has to be a title - Another thing that scares me shitless! Something to be pondered upon and thought about at a later date though ...
After the meal it was yet again another Saturday evening spent in a blissful and heated passion with Mr. Cheese. Much better than our first time last week but still some more positions to test run! As a larger lady I didn't think I would approve of being on-top as a first choice of positioning but as it goes it seems like this is the best way for me to get off and Mr. Cheese doesn't seem to mind much either! It even ended with us panting into the warm atmosphere as we climaxed together and exhausted it ended with snuggles and pillow talk. After a few hours though I discovered Mr. Cheese's tickle spots and this then progressed into further sexual delight and it was at some point during this pure ecstasy that the phrase "I am a machine!" was born. Think of "I am Sparta" and your along the same sort of lines as I was thinking when I said it. Although on this occasion I was wearing a fluffy, mauve jumper and continued to wear this throughout our escapades as Mr. Cheese playfully pinned me down and continued to send me into dizzying heights. For all you that are asking ... Yes Mr. Cheese did manage the big 'O'. I think. I don't really know what one feels like so I think that's what it was. It felt good anyhow!
Upon waking early Sunday morning I realised as I faced a cool magnolia wall that I was unable to turn around for fear of melting his face off with my god-awful morning breath. In my sleepy slumber yet another great line blessed my lips. I also had to contend with the fact that I had Panda eyes due to not taking off my make-up the night before. Should have just worn a paper bag to bed really. Sexy! It was also at this point that I realized I was starkers and exclaimed "Oh dear lord I'm Naked!" to which my bed-buddies reply was a simple, breathy "So am I" whispered softly in my ear. This line still makes him chuckle. Although after much attempting to make him stay in bed and fuck once more I realised it was all in vain as he left early to meet some old Uni friends in Oxford.
So after such a manic weekend I am now left with a whole host of questions that need answering but essentially I think they have been answered already for me. In fact, I know they have! I just need to let my head know that and accept that maybe a relationship is on the cards in the future? But for now this coming week consists of celebration as I turn Twenty-Two tomorrow. Olright, don't all rush forward with your presents ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Hard to believe that this time last year I was still in the gloomy rainclouds of my break-up with Mr. Workaholic. A year on, with the sunshine and rainbows of last week still lingering I couldn't think of a time where I have been happier in a long while. The pestering questions are still there from last week, constantly nagging and reminding me that at some point a decision has to be made - But after the weekend I have had, I think that a special someone has already made that decision for me ...
So after a few days off work from my old job at the windscreen company I began to prepare for a lazy weekend with Mr. Cheese as well as my fast approaching first day in the new role as an office junior in the finance sector. The Tweedles and I had planned a night out on the tiles at a gay bar but unfortunately Miss Tweedle-Dumb was involved in a car accident on the way home from work. Thankfully everyone was OK but sadly the car was not and as a result was a write off. Rest in peace 'Blu Cantrell' the Corsa. Nevertheless I was glad to have the Friday evening to prepare myself for a day (and even more so an evening) with Mr. Cheese. And so the pampering, preening and all-round de-fuzz was to commence!
At just gone eleven in the morning I was greeted with a wide smile, a hug and an unexpected kiss from Mr. Cheese as he rocked up in his cute blue car and away we went. First on the agenda for the day was a walk around the countryside just outside of Bedford in his home village. Trundling down the country back road's I could hear his nerves showing in the way he drove and I tried my best to be as still and as silent so as not to make his disposition worse. As we approached his village he went on to explain his younger brother's eighteenth the previous evening and how all the family had arrived to celebrate. I didn't really need an answer to the next question I was about to ask because as Mr. Cheese pulled the tiny car into the farm lane on which he lived outside the balloon adorned house was several cars. Not only this but the vehicle's were also accompanied by their owners and passengers. The Family! They hadn't left as early as Mr. Cheese had hoped and now I was about to meet the potential in-laws! There was Grandma's and Uncle's and Aunt's and Cousin's. Alot to take in but as the engine was switched off and the driver's door was opened I knew I had to make an impression; And a good one at that.
Stepping out of the car onto the wet gravel I walked toward Mr. Cheese, slightly nervous and anxious about being thrust into the limelight. I enjoyed knowing that this was maybe the start of something a little more serious than a couple of dates and secret nights spent in each others arms. I was introduced as 'Abbey' and before Mr. Cheese even had the chance to give me a dreaded label I said hello and politely waved. Seconds later everyone left and I could breath easy. Until that is I took not of the abode we were at. A beautiful family home set in wild countryside and with modern extensions but still keeping a oldy-worldy vibe. Staring at the front door and the scenery surrounding it I couldn't have though of a more idealistic and perfect family home. Shushing my own thoughts of future family and pushing them aside Mr. Cheese apologised and swiftly welcomed me in. The inside was just as mind-blowing as the exterior. I wouldn't have been able to imagine such perfection and quaintness if I tried. Several reception rooms, a large beautiful garden adorned with flowers and a secret vegetable patch as well as a glorious kitchen and lounge for entertaining. I couldn't have dreamt it any nicer.
After once again fighting the urge to flap about his parents house we decided to have a warm cuppa before heading out on our walk. After finishing up and popping everything in the sink we went to out our shoes on. But what was that. I heard foot steps on the landing. Youngest of all four brothers was up and like Batman himself hoofed down the stairs only to be greeted by a strange lady with purple-hair and wearing a dungaree dress. I said hello. It was only polite. After making very, very small talk with the teenager Mr. Cheese and I held hands as we walked the country lanes and farm land surrounding his majestic home. Carefully manoeuvring our way across muddy fields I felt like I was a kid again; Laughing and giggling without a care in the world. Just me and my Mr.Cheese!
Once we had reached a beauty spot we turned to look out over the hills towards Bedford itself watching it rise in the chilly weekend sunshine. Turning to me we began to cuddle and it wasn't long before we started to make idle chit-chat. Now after my awfully embarrassing stint on the box with regards to the dating show I went on in May/June I have since been blessed with the pet name 'Lemon Lady'. I think it's cute and says alot about both our personalities. All of a sudden though, as if I hadn't had enough shock for the day so far I think I heard some frightening but very romantically sweet words escape from Mr. Cheese's soft and kissable lips.After pulling me into his torso for a snuggle he made what seemed to me to be a passing comment. A simple gesture of appreciation. "I love you Lemon Lady" Mr. Cheese said through hushed tones. I heard it though. We both did. Or did we? Did I? Did he just say the 'L' word in a round about way? Oh goodness! A little speechless I lay against his warm body as he stroked my hair. As the silence set in I knew that there would be more questions to add to the growing list!
Arriving back at Mr. Cheese's family home I was greeted by his other older brother and again sat down for some more tea before once again heading off out for a potter around some local shops and coffee shops. Returning to the house simply to drop off the car we had a brief chat with the brothers about football and I stood there pretending to know what they were on about. But then the door went and in walks the king and queen of the palace! Mother and Father. Shortly followed by the birthday boy himself after visiting a university together. Smiling and wide-eyed I tried my hardest not to be terrified of meeting the people who probably meant the most to Mr. Cheese. They seemed wonderful, loving and warm people and as I left that afternoon I was hoped to been seen again from Mumma Cheese. I took it with a pinch of salt and tried not to think about the future in too much detail. Best not to get your hopes up in these situations unless they come tumbling down.
Then it was back to mine for what was meant to be a relaxing film before dinner out at a fancy restaurant. Safe to say that the film was never shown but I had starters before we even left my flat. Cheeky I know but that is the one thing that I enjoy doing to a lover. Going down on someone can be hard for alot of girls and women out there, hell I was once one of them - Terrified of the 'S or S' situation as well as the taste and the whole issue of fellatio. But for Mr. Cheese it's much more than just 'giving head'. The trembles and quivers make it all worth it, not to mention the way it send shivers down my own spine. Besides compared to the rest of my previous Don Juan's, Mr. Cheese is by far the tastiest of all my meals!
After dinner I went to the bathroom only to discover something horrifying! I wont mention what but it was scary and could well have ruined the evenings entertainment but I am glad to say that it was just a blip (no pun intended) and all is well. Just to be on the safe side, it was done with the lights off just in case Aunt Urma did make an unwelcome appearance between the sheets. Returning to the table Mr. Cheese continued conversation and somehow we got around to the subject of Christmas, especially what with being less than a hundred days to go! Once more the shock train hit me, but this time at a much higher speed and one that has left me pondering and stressing about this since it was first bairn. Through hushed voices and nervous mumbles Mr. Cheese asked me to join him and his family for Christmas away visiting more family in a snowy picturesque part of the North-East England. As romantically beautiful as it is the idea of being away from my own family at such an important time of year brings about a bunch more of questions. I could tell that Mr. Cheese meant well and really wanted me to be there but I just don't know if I could live up to the ex-girlfriend. I'm not a Cambridge Anthropology student and I don't have a high flying career or even anything that exciting about me I don't think so I don't know how his family will see me when compared to her. Besides you can't just invite a 'new friend' to spend Christmas with the possible in-laws. There has to be a title - Another thing that scares me shitless! Something to be pondered upon and thought about at a later date though ...
After the meal it was yet again another Saturday evening spent in a blissful and heated passion with Mr. Cheese. Much better than our first time last week but still some more positions to test run! As a larger lady I didn't think I would approve of being on-top as a first choice of positioning but as it goes it seems like this is the best way for me to get off and Mr. Cheese doesn't seem to mind much either! It even ended with us panting into the warm atmosphere as we climaxed together and exhausted it ended with snuggles and pillow talk. After a few hours though I discovered Mr. Cheese's tickle spots and this then progressed into further sexual delight and it was at some point during this pure ecstasy that the phrase "I am a machine!" was born. Think of "I am Sparta" and your along the same sort of lines as I was thinking when I said it. Although on this occasion I was wearing a fluffy, mauve jumper and continued to wear this throughout our escapades as Mr. Cheese playfully pinned me down and continued to send me into dizzying heights. For all you that are asking ... Yes Mr. Cheese did manage the big 'O'. I think. I don't really know what one feels like so I think that's what it was. It felt good anyhow!
Upon waking early Sunday morning I realised as I faced a cool magnolia wall that I was unable to turn around for fear of melting his face off with my god-awful morning breath. In my sleepy slumber yet another great line blessed my lips. I also had to contend with the fact that I had Panda eyes due to not taking off my make-up the night before. Should have just worn a paper bag to bed really. Sexy! It was also at this point that I realized I was starkers and exclaimed "Oh dear lord I'm Naked!" to which my bed-buddies reply was a simple, breathy "So am I" whispered softly in my ear. This line still makes him chuckle. Although after much attempting to make him stay in bed and fuck once more I realised it was all in vain as he left early to meet some old Uni friends in Oxford.
So after such a manic weekend I am now left with a whole host of questions that need answering but essentially I think they have been answered already for me. In fact, I know they have! I just need to let my head know that and accept that maybe a relationship is on the cards in the future? But for now this coming week consists of celebration as I turn Twenty-Two tomorrow. Olright, don't all rush forward with your presents ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 10 September 2013
Not A Cloud In The Sky
Hello everyone,
So I know that for many of you this week's will be very much an anticipated post about life thus far since Mr. Cheese got home from his Greek adventures. I have even had Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee emailing me their own rendition of things. Well here's hoping you wont be disappointed ...
After finishing work early I headed straight to the shops for some much needed alcohol for the impending night out with Miss Chocolate. Why did I leave work early? Because I thought I had an interview. But as per usual I had muddled it up and booked the wrong day off. It was in fact for Monday morning. Irrespective of my inaccuracy I bagged the job and am now working as a Credit Controller for a large industrial machinery company. I know what your thinking - Nine months and four jobs. But what can I say, I like the change! Heading back home to collect my things for the night out I mooched about until it was time to leave. Upon arrival to Miss Chocolate's abode I wasted no time in getting stuck into pre-drinking and talking about life in general. We discussed my upcoming birthday plans and of course my date the following day with Mr. Cheese. As we kept talking, in between taking selfies and putting on make-up, the drinks continued to be poured and before long I was well on my way to loosing all inhibitions. Soon after we left in a cab and arrived at the club in due time but not before stopping off and having a healing from a god-squader who wore very long fake nails and had a head tattoo. Straight to the bar a necked a few before dashing to the dance floor.
After a few hours and even more drinks I had thought it would be a good idea to email Mr. Cheese although the content of which I am unable to recall. Probably something about dancing and drinking far too much. Throughout this though Miss Chocolate and I have been dancing the hours away with some very dodgy characters, one of which was walking around a fairly packed nightclub with nothing less than a hard-on. Only in Luton would that be acceptable. Nevertheless our night continued. Dancing along suddenly I was approached from behind (No pun intended and anyone who knows me personally knows that this scares me greatly) and grabbed my hand. pulling me in for a hug he whispered in my ear "Follow my lead". Confused I didn't have time to think before he whirled me around the sticky, tiled floor. A space in the crowd formed and in seconds I had turned into a dancing pro; tapping my feet to the Charleston, Mamba and the Waltz. Who was this weirdo though and what did he want? Well apparently he wanted to buy me a drink. I obliged and we headed to the bar. Small talk followed and then the drinks. Not one. Not two. Not three. But four drinks. Granted two were intended for Miss Chocolate but since she didn't like the chosen beverage I adopted it to my bloodstream instead. After some sneaking around Me and Miss Chocolate scurried away from our drinks dispenser and found a quiet corner to guzzle. He found us though and wanted to tell me how rude it was to run away. I explained to him loudly how buying me a drink does not mean I am forced to spend the rest of the night with him and indeed leave with him either. He soon left me to my alcohol and wing-women.
The night progressed and as it did the more photo's and the more emails were sent, although this was not my only concern of the night. According to legend there was many a frog in the club that night and only a fair maiden such as myself (don't laugh) could cure them of such hideous facial disfigurement. Safe to say no amount of drunken kisses could make them more handsome and so in the small hours of Saturday morning Miss Chocolate and I left for our beds, but not before being followed out of the nightclub and nearly out the doors by one frog in particular obviously wanting more. Smiling and waving as I left I knew that my ego was growing out of control, but by morning came it was back to the usual uninhibited self.
Finally after spending the morning being shouted at by Miss Chocolate to get up and out of bed I left for London, Jelly Belly well in-toe. Shaved, trimmed, tidied and ready in case anything was to happen and we just couldn't continue with the day until our sexual appetite was satisfied. And so as I approached the grey, shininess of the city there he was to great me, as promised underneath the romantic Marble Arch on the edge of London's Hyde Park. Although I was twenty-odd minutes late he didn't seem to mind and we embraced and talked of our time apart. It was all planned out in my head. We would start off with a picnic by the Serpentine and then head to the Natural History Museum for a potter. Why I hear you ask? Well my dear's Mr. Cheese is very clever and studied ancient Greek history at university. Now since there wasn't a ancient Greek history museum in London that he hadn't been to I thought I would tie in his love of history and Zebra's to make it the best choice next to the Zoo which wouldn't be great if it was raining. As we walked around the green flower gardens of Hyde Park it was at this point my home-made picnic fit for a king and queen was beginning to get heavy. I suggested a pretty spot by the Thames to eat our picnic but after a heavy night of drinking my stomach still did not agree with food but even still I picked until I was satisfied I had dented the amount I brought.
The rest of the day was spent walking round the expensive shopping quarters in the west of the city stopping off at a cafe for tea and cake. I settled for fruit juice as the belly still didn't know where I was. Hours flew by and I was enjoying myself being around Mr. Cheese although it did take me most the day to pluck up the courage to hold his hand. Naaw! But before long we had dinner in front of us at a simple yet contemporary fish and chip shop in Covent Garden, somewhere a little townie such as my self had never been to before. As the twilight crept in we continued our city tour in under the cover of darkness and the London lights, stopping off at Trafalgar Square, seeing Big Ben, and the Eye, Piccadilly Circus and Nelson's Column. The only thing we missed out on my trip to the capital was Buckingham Palace - But seriously who can complain when you have a cute guy kissing you sweetly beneath the twinkling and bustling action of London Town?
I know what you are all wondering now though. Where did it go? Well I am never one to kiss and tell (at least not yet anyway) although I shall tell you that after an excuse of a nice cuppa we did in fact end up back at Mr. Cheese's very, very nice flat in West London. Surprisingly though, for a male in his early twenties there are no naked girls plastered on his bedroom walls, only innocent photo's of friends and family. Oh and flags. I think he is a bit obsessed with flags?! Hmmm. But yes I digress. After tea we talked and gradually things started to simmer and whilst the pot didn't boil over as expected or anticipated it was a nice and lovely. Maybe Mr. Cheese has left room for the pot to explode next time we meet which will be this weekend? Oh I do hope so! More than half a year without some hard, hot action and I am in need of a good session that will leave me exhausted and content not disappointed and flat like last time.
I woke up at 5am on Sunday morning feeling awful and knowing that I couldn't be sick in Mr. Cheese's lovely home I planned on leaving early. Sitting on the edge of the bed and watching him whilst he snoozed (I'm not weird OK everyone does that ... Right?!) I realised that maybe we had made a huge mistake letting things get this far. Was it too soon? Is this the best thing to do? Where do we even go from now? Is this it? To be honest I don't think that really helped my Jelly Belly situation and instantaneously I felt a wave of sickness from the realisation of what had happened the previous night and the serious questions that followed. Mr. Cheese soon woke though and made me melt when he simply rolled over and kissed me on the forehead before asking if I was hungry or wanted tea. Maybe this was it after all? I declined Mr. Cheese's offer and explained I would be leaving soon, although that soon changed when I decided his chest wig and cute tee-pee moob's was much more comfy than the long train journey home. I finally left just after lunch time, although a quick exit was induced as Mr Cheese's flat mate got back from her own escapades just minutes after finishing round three.
All in all though a wonderful weekend of naked cuddles, tender kisses and whispered sweet nothings all topped off with enough pillow talk to smother an elephant. However the questions still prevail; Was it too soon? Is this it? Where do we go from now? All these things. All happening at once. Finally maybe my luck is changing and it seems as I look up theoretically the sun is out and there is not a cloud in the sky ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So I know that for many of you this week's will be very much an anticipated post about life thus far since Mr. Cheese got home from his Greek adventures. I have even had Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee emailing me their own rendition of things. Well here's hoping you wont be disappointed ...
After finishing work early I headed straight to the shops for some much needed alcohol for the impending night out with Miss Chocolate. Why did I leave work early? Because I thought I had an interview. But as per usual I had muddled it up and booked the wrong day off. It was in fact for Monday morning. Irrespective of my inaccuracy I bagged the job and am now working as a Credit Controller for a large industrial machinery company. I know what your thinking - Nine months and four jobs. But what can I say, I like the change! Heading back home to collect my things for the night out I mooched about until it was time to leave. Upon arrival to Miss Chocolate's abode I wasted no time in getting stuck into pre-drinking and talking about life in general. We discussed my upcoming birthday plans and of course my date the following day with Mr. Cheese. As we kept talking, in between taking selfies and putting on make-up, the drinks continued to be poured and before long I was well on my way to loosing all inhibitions. Soon after we left in a cab and arrived at the club in due time but not before stopping off and having a healing from a god-squader who wore very long fake nails and had a head tattoo. Straight to the bar a necked a few before dashing to the dance floor.
After a few hours and even more drinks I had thought it would be a good idea to email Mr. Cheese although the content of which I am unable to recall. Probably something about dancing and drinking far too much. Throughout this though Miss Chocolate and I have been dancing the hours away with some very dodgy characters, one of which was walking around a fairly packed nightclub with nothing less than a hard-on. Only in Luton would that be acceptable. Nevertheless our night continued. Dancing along suddenly I was approached from behind (No pun intended and anyone who knows me personally knows that this scares me greatly) and grabbed my hand. pulling me in for a hug he whispered in my ear "Follow my lead". Confused I didn't have time to think before he whirled me around the sticky, tiled floor. A space in the crowd formed and in seconds I had turned into a dancing pro; tapping my feet to the Charleston, Mamba and the Waltz. Who was this weirdo though and what did he want? Well apparently he wanted to buy me a drink. I obliged and we headed to the bar. Small talk followed and then the drinks. Not one. Not two. Not three. But four drinks. Granted two were intended for Miss Chocolate but since she didn't like the chosen beverage I adopted it to my bloodstream instead. After some sneaking around Me and Miss Chocolate scurried away from our drinks dispenser and found a quiet corner to guzzle. He found us though and wanted to tell me how rude it was to run away. I explained to him loudly how buying me a drink does not mean I am forced to spend the rest of the night with him and indeed leave with him either. He soon left me to my alcohol and wing-women.
The night progressed and as it did the more photo's and the more emails were sent, although this was not my only concern of the night. According to legend there was many a frog in the club that night and only a fair maiden such as myself (don't laugh) could cure them of such hideous facial disfigurement. Safe to say no amount of drunken kisses could make them more handsome and so in the small hours of Saturday morning Miss Chocolate and I left for our beds, but not before being followed out of the nightclub and nearly out the doors by one frog in particular obviously wanting more. Smiling and waving as I left I knew that my ego was growing out of control, but by morning came it was back to the usual uninhibited self.
Finally after spending the morning being shouted at by Miss Chocolate to get up and out of bed I left for London, Jelly Belly well in-toe. Shaved, trimmed, tidied and ready in case anything was to happen and we just couldn't continue with the day until our sexual appetite was satisfied. And so as I approached the grey, shininess of the city there he was to great me, as promised underneath the romantic Marble Arch on the edge of London's Hyde Park. Although I was twenty-odd minutes late he didn't seem to mind and we embraced and talked of our time apart. It was all planned out in my head. We would start off with a picnic by the Serpentine and then head to the Natural History Museum for a potter. Why I hear you ask? Well my dear's Mr. Cheese is very clever and studied ancient Greek history at university. Now since there wasn't a ancient Greek history museum in London that he hadn't been to I thought I would tie in his love of history and Zebra's to make it the best choice next to the Zoo which wouldn't be great if it was raining. As we walked around the green flower gardens of Hyde Park it was at this point my home-made picnic fit for a king and queen was beginning to get heavy. I suggested a pretty spot by the Thames to eat our picnic but after a heavy night of drinking my stomach still did not agree with food but even still I picked until I was satisfied I had dented the amount I brought.
The rest of the day was spent walking round the expensive shopping quarters in the west of the city stopping off at a cafe for tea and cake. I settled for fruit juice as the belly still didn't know where I was. Hours flew by and I was enjoying myself being around Mr. Cheese although it did take me most the day to pluck up the courage to hold his hand. Naaw! But before long we had dinner in front of us at a simple yet contemporary fish and chip shop in Covent Garden, somewhere a little townie such as my self had never been to before. As the twilight crept in we continued our city tour in under the cover of darkness and the London lights, stopping off at Trafalgar Square, seeing Big Ben, and the Eye, Piccadilly Circus and Nelson's Column. The only thing we missed out on my trip to the capital was Buckingham Palace - But seriously who can complain when you have a cute guy kissing you sweetly beneath the twinkling and bustling action of London Town?
I know what you are all wondering now though. Where did it go? Well I am never one to kiss and tell (at least not yet anyway) although I shall tell you that after an excuse of a nice cuppa we did in fact end up back at Mr. Cheese's very, very nice flat in West London. Surprisingly though, for a male in his early twenties there are no naked girls plastered on his bedroom walls, only innocent photo's of friends and family. Oh and flags. I think he is a bit obsessed with flags?! Hmmm. But yes I digress. After tea we talked and gradually things started to simmer and whilst the pot didn't boil over as expected or anticipated it was a nice and lovely. Maybe Mr. Cheese has left room for the pot to explode next time we meet which will be this weekend? Oh I do hope so! More than half a year without some hard, hot action and I am in need of a good session that will leave me exhausted and content not disappointed and flat like last time.
I woke up at 5am on Sunday morning feeling awful and knowing that I couldn't be sick in Mr. Cheese's lovely home I planned on leaving early. Sitting on the edge of the bed and watching him whilst he snoozed (I'm not weird OK everyone does that ... Right?!) I realised that maybe we had made a huge mistake letting things get this far. Was it too soon? Is this the best thing to do? Where do we even go from now? Is this it? To be honest I don't think that really helped my Jelly Belly situation and instantaneously I felt a wave of sickness from the realisation of what had happened the previous night and the serious questions that followed. Mr. Cheese soon woke though and made me melt when he simply rolled over and kissed me on the forehead before asking if I was hungry or wanted tea. Maybe this was it after all? I declined Mr. Cheese's offer and explained I would be leaving soon, although that soon changed when I decided his chest wig and cute tee-pee moob's was much more comfy than the long train journey home. I finally left just after lunch time, although a quick exit was induced as Mr Cheese's flat mate got back from her own escapades just minutes after finishing round three.
All in all though a wonderful weekend of naked cuddles, tender kisses and whispered sweet nothings all topped off with enough pillow talk to smother an elephant. However the questions still prevail; Was it too soon? Is this it? Where do we go from now? All these things. All happening at once. Finally maybe my luck is changing and it seems as I look up theoretically the sun is out and there is not a cloud in the sky ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 20 August 2013
Passion, Persistence and Puke!
Afternoon Everyone,
So all is well in the world this week. My dilemma essentially has resolved itself as I choose my head over my heart (for once). This has been made maybe slightly easier by the fact that the 'Mystery Man' otherwise now referred to as Mr. Welsh has not been in contact with me since. Although I think that maybe Mr. Cheese may be something worth investigating further - Especially as how things have been ramped up a gear ...
So since our date last week with Mr. Cheese I was struggling with the fact that whilst I tried to tell him through body language that I wasn't comfortable with kissing on a first date he still went in for it and kissed me anyway. Not that it was an awful 'washing machine' experience like some other frogs I have kissed, but as already explained last week was sweet and innocent. We had made plans to meet a week on, however after both Mr. Cheese and I found ourselves at a loose end on Friday night we decided to spend the evening together; And so I had a wonderful evening out in a quaint little Italian restaurant in town. I think the staff could tell we were a 'new pairing' and made all their efforts to make us feel comfortable. Not that I paid much attention to the staff, especially when I have the company of Mr. Cheese rambling on about the appreciation of hats, zebra's and other madness that I thought only I possessed.
Finally I have found a fellow foodie that doesn't just survive on chicken dinosaurs and potato smiles for breakfast, lunch and frigging dinner like Mr. Workaholic. Although, until your in that position, you never know just how difficult it is to eat a salad gracefully is when the bowl it comes in is lopsided and you have half the Amazon in there too. Desperately trying to cram a forkful of leaves and chicken into your face-hole before your date look's up from his own delicious meal is very hard but I think I got the hang of it. Maybe that's what the staff we smiling about, that funny little women in the corner wrestling with the artistically ridiculous bowl that is completely impractical. Following my wrestling match came an indulgent pudding of Tiramisu and Profiteroles shared with my date, Mr. Cheese. And so there we sat, for once barely saying a thing as we ate our desserts with twinkles in our eyes, slowly licking the spoon and twisting our tongues round a silver fork. As if it couldn't get more intense, Mr. Cheese revealed how one of his siblings would probably be spying from another restaurant across the road, trying to get a glimpse of the action.
After dinner we made a swift exit hoping not to be caught sight of by Mr. Cheese's brother and made it to the safe haven of a local pub. From the outside it didn't look too busy and so we went in. Sod's law would say that as soon as we walked in it was packed to the rafters and after buying a couple of drinks we spent the rest of the evening there, right up until closing time. We talked thoroughly about everything and anything. But then came the subject of what happened to the 'Ex'. Sweetly and as if not to impose, Mr. Cheese simply hinted at the question so as not to scare or upset me, and, since he himself had opened up about his ex-girlfriend (who sounds like a boring-arse anyhow) I felt compelled to tell him. So for the first time in many, many months I let loose and took myself back to a rainy Friday evening in April last year when my world caved in on itself. I didn't cry, although I did feel very emotional and I think I would have if I had not stopped at certain parts of the story.
At that moment most men I would have expected to pop on their running shoes and make a swift dash for the exit but Mr. Cheese did not. He stayed put. He comforted me with wise words on how, as I had always hoped, that Mr. Workaholic had lost the best thing that ever happened to him. So sweet we sat in that beer garden surrounded by very loud, drunken, middle-aged people and we talked away for hours. It almost seemed that everyone else just melted away and we were the only two in the world. I loved it. Everything was so relaxed and laid back. My worries of getting serious and falling were suddenly gone and both Mr. Cheese and I agreed that we liked things how they were and not to change them until we were both ready.
After last orders were called I invited him back to mine where we simply kissed and he called a cab. And that was it, but for some odd reason my bed felt comfier that night, softer than ever before and I fell into a deep sleep. Saturday morning came and went as I passed most of the day lounging in bed listening to old songs thinking about the future with someone other than my Mr. Workaholic. It then suddenly dawned on me. I was thinking about sex. But not just general sex, I was thinking about soft and passionate embraces, lust-filled and exciting with someone other than my Ex! Oh what a feeling it is to realise you are now free from his wretch'ed face! Nevertheless I had to get up at some point as I was meant to be joining Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb on a night out with an old acquaintance of theirs, Miss Stuu. Sadly though we never made it to the planned night out as both me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb had subsequently redecorated the inside of Miss Stuu's mothers car. I have never felt guilt like it and both me and the Tweedle's were in bed by ten that night.
Sunday morning broke and it suddenly dawned on me that date number three is on the horizon. I checked my phone as it bleeped with four messages from what appeared to be a very, very intoxicated Mr. Cheese. Laughing along with Miss Tweedle-Dumb we set a time where we would both be able to make some sort of recovery. Making the journey back to Bedford with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, stopping en-route for a burger from a fast food chain the conversation soon turned to relationships and where things were destining for me and my Cheesey friend, although thankfully I was able to just shrug it off with a few simple answers, although in my head I hoped that maybe in the future something good would come of me muddling up my bridges and meeting that quirky Mr. Cheese.
Arriving home I changed, showered and beautified myself before spending the late afternoon wandering round the parks and rivers of Bedford with Mr. Cheese on our third date. A wonderful afternoon, only to be topped off with a fiery evening of making out on my sofa. It could have gone a lot further if I wanted it. Hell, it could have gone all the way if I hadn't kept cool and collected. Although I would be lying if I said that I wasn't disappointed that we didn't fall asleep together that night. It sounds so simple when writing that we just made out - But for nearly three hours he made me feel like a million dollars. Sweet kisses to my neck and bust made me giddy with excitement and anticipation. I had not felt like that in years and can barely remember a time when Mr. Workaholic had made me feel so wanted. Although just as the passion was taking a hold and the intense sexual chemistry hit a peak whilst Mr. Cheese and I straddled one another on the floor kissing madly I murdered the moment by asking when the last train was. Probably should have kept quiet given the heat of the moment. I didn't want him to miss the last train back to London where he lives though and in all honestly wanted to wait for a few more dates until I 'put out'.
And so Mr. Cheese left. Although this time there shall be a long gap between our next encounters since the jammy bastard is off on a fortnight long, all expenses paid, family holiday to the hot and luscious islands of Greece. Well I think Greece is an island? (Hmmm) So now I wait and think about what could have been but also of what might be. Where will this go and will it end like last time? I shall have to wait and see, but I am positive that Cupid has well and truly got us with his arrow ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So all is well in the world this week. My dilemma essentially has resolved itself as I choose my head over my heart (for once). This has been made maybe slightly easier by the fact that the 'Mystery Man' otherwise now referred to as Mr. Welsh has not been in contact with me since. Although I think that maybe Mr. Cheese may be something worth investigating further - Especially as how things have been ramped up a gear ...
So since our date last week with Mr. Cheese I was struggling with the fact that whilst I tried to tell him through body language that I wasn't comfortable with kissing on a first date he still went in for it and kissed me anyway. Not that it was an awful 'washing machine' experience like some other frogs I have kissed, but as already explained last week was sweet and innocent. We had made plans to meet a week on, however after both Mr. Cheese and I found ourselves at a loose end on Friday night we decided to spend the evening together; And so I had a wonderful evening out in a quaint little Italian restaurant in town. I think the staff could tell we were a 'new pairing' and made all their efforts to make us feel comfortable. Not that I paid much attention to the staff, especially when I have the company of Mr. Cheese rambling on about the appreciation of hats, zebra's and other madness that I thought only I possessed.
Finally I have found a fellow foodie that doesn't just survive on chicken dinosaurs and potato smiles for breakfast, lunch and frigging dinner like Mr. Workaholic. Although, until your in that position, you never know just how difficult it is to eat a salad gracefully is when the bowl it comes in is lopsided and you have half the Amazon in there too. Desperately trying to cram a forkful of leaves and chicken into your face-hole before your date look's up from his own delicious meal is very hard but I think I got the hang of it. Maybe that's what the staff we smiling about, that funny little women in the corner wrestling with the artistically ridiculous bowl that is completely impractical. Following my wrestling match came an indulgent pudding of Tiramisu and Profiteroles shared with my date, Mr. Cheese. And so there we sat, for once barely saying a thing as we ate our desserts with twinkles in our eyes, slowly licking the spoon and twisting our tongues round a silver fork. As if it couldn't get more intense, Mr. Cheese revealed how one of his siblings would probably be spying from another restaurant across the road, trying to get a glimpse of the action.
After dinner we made a swift exit hoping not to be caught sight of by Mr. Cheese's brother and made it to the safe haven of a local pub. From the outside it didn't look too busy and so we went in. Sod's law would say that as soon as we walked in it was packed to the rafters and after buying a couple of drinks we spent the rest of the evening there, right up until closing time. We talked thoroughly about everything and anything. But then came the subject of what happened to the 'Ex'. Sweetly and as if not to impose, Mr. Cheese simply hinted at the question so as not to scare or upset me, and, since he himself had opened up about his ex-girlfriend (who sounds like a boring-arse anyhow) I felt compelled to tell him. So for the first time in many, many months I let loose and took myself back to a rainy Friday evening in April last year when my world caved in on itself. I didn't cry, although I did feel very emotional and I think I would have if I had not stopped at certain parts of the story.
At that moment most men I would have expected to pop on their running shoes and make a swift dash for the exit but Mr. Cheese did not. He stayed put. He comforted me with wise words on how, as I had always hoped, that Mr. Workaholic had lost the best thing that ever happened to him. So sweet we sat in that beer garden surrounded by very loud, drunken, middle-aged people and we talked away for hours. It almost seemed that everyone else just melted away and we were the only two in the world. I loved it. Everything was so relaxed and laid back. My worries of getting serious and falling were suddenly gone and both Mr. Cheese and I agreed that we liked things how they were and not to change them until we were both ready.
After last orders were called I invited him back to mine where we simply kissed and he called a cab. And that was it, but for some odd reason my bed felt comfier that night, softer than ever before and I fell into a deep sleep. Saturday morning came and went as I passed most of the day lounging in bed listening to old songs thinking about the future with someone other than my Mr. Workaholic. It then suddenly dawned on me. I was thinking about sex. But not just general sex, I was thinking about soft and passionate embraces, lust-filled and exciting with someone other than my Ex! Oh what a feeling it is to realise you are now free from his wretch'ed face! Nevertheless I had to get up at some point as I was meant to be joining Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb on a night out with an old acquaintance of theirs, Miss Stuu. Sadly though we never made it to the planned night out as both me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb had subsequently redecorated the inside of Miss Stuu's mothers car. I have never felt guilt like it and both me and the Tweedle's were in bed by ten that night.
Sunday morning broke and it suddenly dawned on me that date number three is on the horizon. I checked my phone as it bleeped with four messages from what appeared to be a very, very intoxicated Mr. Cheese. Laughing along with Miss Tweedle-Dumb we set a time where we would both be able to make some sort of recovery. Making the journey back to Bedford with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, stopping en-route for a burger from a fast food chain the conversation soon turned to relationships and where things were destining for me and my Cheesey friend, although thankfully I was able to just shrug it off with a few simple answers, although in my head I hoped that maybe in the future something good would come of me muddling up my bridges and meeting that quirky Mr. Cheese.
Arriving home I changed, showered and beautified myself before spending the late afternoon wandering round the parks and rivers of Bedford with Mr. Cheese on our third date. A wonderful afternoon, only to be topped off with a fiery evening of making out on my sofa. It could have gone a lot further if I wanted it. Hell, it could have gone all the way if I hadn't kept cool and collected. Although I would be lying if I said that I wasn't disappointed that we didn't fall asleep together that night. It sounds so simple when writing that we just made out - But for nearly three hours he made me feel like a million dollars. Sweet kisses to my neck and bust made me giddy with excitement and anticipation. I had not felt like that in years and can barely remember a time when Mr. Workaholic had made me feel so wanted. Although just as the passion was taking a hold and the intense sexual chemistry hit a peak whilst Mr. Cheese and I straddled one another on the floor kissing madly I murdered the moment by asking when the last train was. Probably should have kept quiet given the heat of the moment. I didn't want him to miss the last train back to London where he lives though and in all honestly wanted to wait for a few more dates until I 'put out'.
And so Mr. Cheese left. Although this time there shall be a long gap between our next encounters since the jammy bastard is off on a fortnight long, all expenses paid, family holiday to the hot and luscious islands of Greece. Well I think Greece is an island? (Hmmm) So now I wait and think about what could have been but also of what might be. Where will this go and will it end like last time? I shall have to wait and see, but I am positive that Cupid has well and truly got us with his arrow ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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