Posts Tagged flirting

Lights, Camera, lots of Action

If you haven’t done so already, go back and read the previous post before you read this one or it won’t make much sense. 

Stwc and I got down the stairs just as K, our photo shoot partner for the day, was arriving. We greeted him; he was quiet and nervous – no wonder, really, he’d never done anything like this before and if I’d just walked into that kind of situation without having had the benefit of spending the night before with Stwc I’d have been shitting bricks as well. K got in the manager’s van and Stwc and I got a lift in from C who is taking over the club along with Lion next month.

All the, erm, equipment from the night before was still in place so it didn’t take long before we started. There was only one thing that I really really didn’t enjoy, which was having my head in a head cage but as soon as it became clear that I didn’t like that they let me out; most of the rest (whipping, spanking etc) I could take or leave. I did really enjoy the nipple play though (clothes pegs on nipples for about fifteen or twenty minutes when other stuff is going on and then take them off and squeeze, rub, bite or use a pin wheel on them… I know it sounds awful but I really liked it!). All in all we did about nine different scenes, which basically amounted to the three of is in various poses and doing bits of things to each other. Because the website only deals with photos and there are no videos it doesn’t matter if we don’t take it overly seriously. The final scene was of course the cum shot, with Stwc blindfolded and tied to a table and made to cum by K and me before we finished ourselves off over his chest and belly. Then we got cleaned up, packed up and left, heading back to the managers house.

When we were there I went to look up train times to get myself home and Stwc asked me how close to the train station I lived. “I don’t live near the train station – that’s why I’m getting a train”. “No,” he laughed, “I meant how close to the train station at the other end?” So I told him and he asked if I’d like some company for the night. Despite the bizarreness of the last day and a half I did – we got on really well – so he picked up his bag and, after we’d both been paid, he left with me and came back to mine. We played around a little bit initially when we got back but given that we’d been at it for five hours that day, as well as the night before both in and out of the club we didn’t keep going very long. So we cuddled. It was sickeningly cute; we talked and laughed and he could even finish off a quote from my favourite sitcom which ended in 1998, without even having to think about it. And we spooned all night, which was lovely. Ever time I rolled over from being the big spoon he rolled over straight away, kissed the back of my neck and kept on cuddling. Usually that’s annoying but it was actually nice. Then this morning I took him to the train station on my way back to uni so I could go back to the small university town he lives in. “You should come and see it, see how small it is. We’d find plenty to do”. “Yeah, when your boyfriend’s not at home. You better be single the next time I see you”. And then, to the shock of the old woman waiting in the foyer, we kissed again before he got on the train, and off he went.

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Central European Fetish Strikes Again

The first time I met her she more or less ignored me.

The third time a few of us were at her flat. It got late. “You can sleep on the couch, or in my bed. But don’t hit on me, cause I might not say no”. (She has a boyfriend). I’ve never had so much self restraint, especially given that she was naked in front of me

A few weeks later, in a club. “When I get home for the summer I’m just going to neck some guy. Hey, want to make out later?” – but we didn’t.

Friday. Party. Wine. Sitting together. “So, do you want to kiss me now or do it later?” and  finally after months of sexual tension we  did make out. And a bit more. We went to the kitchen where there was a couch and where there was no-one else, things got a bit heated; the person whose flat it was told us the other bedroom was empty.

We didn’t have penetrative sex (no condoms and that would apparently feel too much like cheating), lots of oral though. She actually had said earlier in the night that she’s not that good at sex but that her oral is fantastic and she’s not wrong, the things she could do with her tongue…!

Sunday, out for coffee. “I kind of felt bad about the guy I made out with last week, but not about you. It was a long time coming” (she’s not wrong there either)

And now she’s back in Central Europe for the summer.

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Flashback Friday: An Actual Date

I’m graduating university just now. Probably as you’re reading this, in fact (isn’t autopost a wonderful thing?). I never really thought this day would come, that I’d come this far.

It certainly seemed a long way away at the end of first year – I still had four years to go, after all, which when you’re 18 seems like a lifetime. This was the summer that I broke up with the Slov for the first time – we did get back together a short while after for another few months but that’s not the point of this post.

I went to the Capital for whatever reason, and was staying with my best friend through there for the weekend. Somehow – I’m not sure – we got talking to his friend, a guy called L from somewhere in the east, I don’t really remember where but he had a ridiculous accent which is why I remember it was somewhere in that general direction. My friend and I were leaving the bar we were at to go home and L told us to be careful since it was late, and made us promise to text when we got home so he knew we were safe – this being his cue to give me his number, smooth. We did indeed survive the journey home, and told him so, and he reminded me to keep in touch.

We did indeed keep in touch and the following weekend I went through to see him, we went out for lunch and then went back to his “to watch a film”. We all know what that’s code for.

I really don’t remember much about this encounter to be honest, it was a long time ago and I wasn’t paying much attention to it. I remember I was the only one of us who came, and I don’t think I was in the town for very long afterwards, but that’s about it. We stayed in touch for a few days afterwards, but at that point the Slov came back from her summer away and we started talking again, so I let it drop with L. My friend who introduced us informs me that he’s now a high school teacher, which I struggle to picture him doing, and still living somewhere in the east.

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Your Stories

This is quite an easy blog post to write as I don’t have to actually do any of the writing!! Here are two submissions I’ve had to the Like a Virgin competition. Enjoy!

From KM
The tale of my virginity is one I am very lucky to have! As a “straight” girl of 15 almost 20 years ago I was pretty much a total idiot when it came to sex. My teenage years were spent living in the country where I spent most of my time working on farms with cows and horses, so sex wasn’t something I thought was on the cards for a long time. However one night, a friend from school we’ll call Stacey here, invited me out on a Friday night. It meant staying overnight at her mums house ’cause I lived in the middle of Buttfucknowhere so parents spoke and all was arranged. When I arrived there was blaring music coming from the house and the smell of whisky wafting from the living room. I will add that this story does not start out well and in fact you would be forgiven for thinking this ends in a bloody mess. It doesn’t. You’re good. Her mother was wasted drunk beyond belief and staggering around the house with her also wasted boyfriend. Stacey and i disappear upstairs and she starts on the booze. I didn’t drink. I was a good girl! I owned a pony for gods sake! Anyways, we leave the house at 9pm or something ridiculous to get in line for a local club. Once inside i realise that there there were a lot of people in their underwear. But I had never been in a club before so i just shut the hell up and drank my apple juice (no joke). Within about 10 minutes of that first night club apple juice an Adonis walked towards me clad in a banana hammock and a bow tie!Ii shit you not it was like a bad porno! He was called A and he was a barman there. The staff all had to work in their underwear believe it or not. He was a body builder and i fell in love right there. At the end of the night he asked to come back to Stacey’s and she said yes. She had actually pulled one of the other barmen (they had been eating each others faces off all night) so I felt fine about it. We talked in Stacey’s room for about 8 hours. We slept next to each other for a couple of them fully clothed. and then he spent 2 long hours just kissing and touching me because I’m fairly sure he knew i was a virgin. He talked to me, he seemed to know if he went a little too fast and would immediately slow down. it was awesome! I didn’t know it back then but he had a really big dick and he was a skilful man with it. He was 10 years older than me, I know creepy, but i did lie and say i was older and my ID said 18 so I can’t blame him and as it happens we stayed together for 4 years. Engaged and everything!
So, instead of the horror stories I’ve heard from other female friends, I get to remember my first time as a wonderful and entirely new whole experience for me with a caring and skilled older man. If it hadn’t been for him there would be a lot of sad little toyboys out there today! A, I salute you!

And from EP.

I was 17 and seriously confused about my sexuality. 3 years prior I had a kissed a boy and a girl at a party but I doubt they could even properly be counted as it was a spin the bottle game that brought them about. I think I had got to the point where not knowing if  I was attracted to guys or girls had stressed me out so much that i had kinda given up and decided it was something I could sort out later. I assumed like most of my girlfriends that i would get drunk at a party and some guy would hit on me and I’d just think “screw it” and do it!
So one Thursday night I was in my horrible student bedsit and there’s a knock at the door. The girl downstairs’ television had gone “bang” and she didn’t have credit in her phone so she asked if she could use mine. I remember looking at her at the door and not really having an opinion on her, she was just a slightly rattled girl who wanted to call her dad, presumably for a new TV. I took her to my room gave her my phone and sat down to watch telly. At the end of the call she realised I was watching a particular show and started chatting about it so I invited her to stay and offered her a cup of tea as is the ritual in these circumstances. The loss of a TV is something we all have to go though at some stage. She was wearing a long black towelling dressing gown and slippers but when she curled her legs up on the couch, the robe slipped and her legs were outstanding! I wanted to lean over right then and just lick them. And then of course I look up and she’s looking at me and smiling. Busted! We talked ’til the early hours and then as I was walking her to the door and hating myself for it, she stopped, put her hand on my cheek and kissed me. I don’t think I have ever felt that same kind of lust and pleasure since. We stayed in bed for 30 hours and it was the steepest learning curve I ever experienced but so, so worth it. Later that same year I had sex with  guy, at a party with a few drinks in me. First and last time.

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Pretending I’m in Sex and the City

Bruga has a friend from home visiting over the weekend and wanted to show her some of our night life in the city, so last night the three of us, along with Pan, went out dancing. It was a really fun night, though God only knows where Pan ended up. (He has a habit of vanishing in the middle of a night out, or deciding to stay when everyone else is leaving).

He and I were stood at the bar and after Pan had ordered I commented that the barman was cute. “Talk to him,” said Pan, handing me a fiver. So when said barman came back with Pan’s pint, I paid, and immediately realised that made it look as if Pan and I were a couple. Oops. There’s always a way out though, so when the barman came back with the change and handed it to me I asked his name, which he gave as M; “Hi M, I’m Dexxx, and you’ll be my barman this evening.” M blushed and we went off to dance. (Special thanks to KittyMama for the opening line).

Even though the place was busy – not packed like it is on a Wednesday – I did get served by him for the rest of the night, and barely even had to queue. Not my first drink after that encounter but the one after that, I asked “Could I have a vodka lemonade and your phone number please?”  (I seem to have this idea in my head that I live in New York and people actually say this stuff to bar staff. As far as I know they really don’t but whatever, it worked) and he sort of started for a second and then went, “Not while I’m working…” and turned away to get my change, having an animated conversation with one of his colleagues at the till. Then as he gave me my change his hand lingered on mine for a second and he continued, “… but you can give me yours!”

Now, I don’t know how many of you have tried to find a pen in a night club, but for me it was certainly a first and it’s really not easy. I had a bit of an aha-moment when I realised the toilet attendants have to fill in time sheets, so I got a pen off one of the friendly ones of them I’d been talking to earlier in the evening. It always pays to be nice to almost everyone. I put my number down on the back of a receipt, making sure it was the right number this time and that my writing was actually legible and went back to the bar.

At this point Pan and I ran into a very friendly girl who was in the club for the first time, and befriended her. She offered to buy us both drinks and I said “Well I’m actually flirting with one of the bar staff…” so she just handed me a twenty and told me what to order. Once I did, and this woman (I think her name was L?) had added three shots onto the order for us, I slipped the receipt with the phone number on top of the twenty and handed both over. I thought L’s eyes were going to fall out of her head at the temerity of it but I explained the rest of the story later. Anyway, barman put our order through the till (giving us the shots for free, cheers pal) and my number in his back pocket.

Boom. That’s how it’s done.

I suppose that technically we can’t term that successful until I get a text from him, so we’ll see whether or not that happens. But the free shots and the fact that he took my number are small victories in themselves, and at any rate it’s a more successful night than Pan’s since he ended up sucking off a 39-year-old tourist in the toilets…

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