Tall, dark, hansom... liar.

I wrote this whilst away. I'm trying to whack out all my prepared blogs to bring myself back up to speed. I'll sort myself out eventually. I finished writing this which in Shannon airport, it definitely relieved the insane boredom of waiting for my flight home.


Tall, very tall, dark and hansom. That was my first impression of Ray.I met him in a club. Not my normal meeting place I assure you, but hey I wouldn't complain when the boys look as beautiful as he did. He was well built, muscley and beautiful big brown eyes and short thick dark hair. I like height in a boy being so tall myself, I swear I've had a growth spurt over the last week, I think I'm around 5'9 now. I really want to stop growing. Being so tall and big myself I like tall boys, they make me feel girlie and small, pretty and petite. It also means they'll have bigger feet too. Which hopefully means a bigger "lad" as well,which for me is important! I'm the sort of girl who knows from experience that she needs a bigger dick to get her off, especially if it's missionary we're doing that's for certain. Not that it means that well endowed lads are better in bed. That's definitely not a combo deal unfortunately. How I'd love it to be though, it would make life that much more.. satisfying.

Ray was a flirt in a good way, he refused to tell me his name at first when we were texting each other, he made me play kinky games to get what I wanted. Lots of fun. He kept telling me that he was falling me but didn't want to rush anything, but wanted us to start "seeing" each other. God I hate that phrase "seeing" what on earth does that mean, are you together? Are you not? Are you allowed to get jealous? Are you exclusive? Are you not? Are you allowed to flirt/kiss other people? Does anyone know the actual rules for it?

Well we began seeing each other and one night met up in a hotel room for our first (and sadly to be the last) time sleeping together. It was utterly amazing.

Pushing me onto the hotel bed he began to tug at my dress, pulling it off with such force, dying to get at flesh, to get what he wanted. Standing up he tore off his clothes, yet never breaking eye contact. He lowered his boxers to reveal a throbbing, full hard dick. I have never been more turned on as I was when he pulled me down to the end of the bed, ran his fingers through my hair, down my face to my lips, letting his figers linger over my bottom lip as I began to nibble at his fingertips. His hands began making their way down my body, slowing down as they reached my breasts, fondling my nipples. He brought his head down to them softly biting the flesh grabbing them with his other hand. Then the real fun began. I have never ever ever ever ever ever had sex like I did whilst with Ray. It was hard, rough, but utterly romantic. No one had ever made me feel as amazing or beautiful as he did when lying beside me.

However, two hours later after I had left to go to college he sent me a text saying how amazing the night had been, how he couldn't wait to see me again. BUT he had got a text from his ex gf, asking to meet up, he told me he still loved her and wanted to get back together with her and telling me he'd let me know later what was happening. I told him just to let me know where I stood. I got a horrible reply of "What!? You don't stand anywhere! What made you think you did? So what I lied to you, it was only supposed to be sex, well in my eyes anyway, you're fun but I'd only want you FOR fun". He then rang me the next day feeling guilty to confess to me that he had never broken up with his girlfriend, but actually just wanted to sleep with whilst he was arguing with his girlfriend and she hadn't been sleeping with him.
No lie. I was devastated. I still am when I think about him. He was lovely, but it was all a lie.

Almost like the real thing.

Hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot. Irish boys.
Last Sunday I was drunk. He was drunk. He was hot. I was 100% horny. Man he could kiss.
No kiss I have had has been as amazing as that was the other night. I was left alone the other night in Athenry, one cute very drunk lad kept looking out for me making I was ok, since I knew no one except from the one girl.
Tom's a doppelgänger for Finn out of Glee (I'm a lil bit of a gleek, not a full one though) so when he came towards me with a look of pure lust in his eyes, pushing me against a shop window, I was more than happy to oblige and give in to the ever growing horniness in me.
God I love Ireland and cute lads who take the mickey outta my accent. Maybe I should just stay. Shame I never saw him again.

Plus my relatives tried to set me up with a nephew of a friend. Before the poor lad walked into the room they were teasing me senseless about him and my lack of relationships, so when he walked in I went bright red at the sight of such a cute lad and couldn't even get my words out.
I'm so suave its unreal. ha-ha.

Bring on the rest of the summer.

Wow, you're HUGE.

I'm writing this whilst sitting in Gate 7 in Heathrow Airport on my way to Ireland. I'm going to write this here and post it when I get back since I'm not going to have the internet whilst I'm over there. There's a very very cute lad sitting opposite from me in the waiting gate who reminds me horribly of Jonny.
Chavvy, stocky, cocky, cockney, full of shit, player, short(ish), slutty, ambitonless, smarmy, dickish, prick. Those were his bad points.
Sexy, funny, charming, experienced, talented, VERY well endowed, good stamina, cocky (works both ways).
Those were his good points.
There were many in between: massive flirt, persuasive, cock-sure, kinda attractive in an odd way. I never thought I'd have such a thing for a 5ft7 dark haired idiot. But hey, shit happens. All I know is I'll never let him have the upper hand over me ever again. But god I would definietly let him shag me again and again and again.
He was one sexy fuck, even though his only interest was coming, even if I didn't get anywhere near, as long as he came who cared right?
A fuck buddy should never be an actual friend in the first place. I wish i knew that then. At least I know now.
I don't have the time nor probably the space to write about my story with Jonny. Although I would love to spill all the gory details, there's just to many. I'll just list a few reasons why he's a prick:

• He was sleeping with 6 other girls at the same time as me.
• He came over to mine for the evening but then left at 7 saying that he had to go since he had a date.
• I once gave him head on a golf course, we nearly got caught. As I stood up to move further into the green, he picked up his phone and rang another girl straight away.
• He constantly compared me to his ex girlfriend.
• He never stopped talking about his ex's.
• He would leave me in the early hours of the morning in the middle of the street.
• He never let me finish.
• He led me on.
• I'd have to make all the moves, God forbid he did anything off his own back.
• I paid for everything.
• He made me feel worthless.
• He'd chat up other girls when we were out together.
• He'd chat up my friends.
• He'd try and sleep with my friends.
• He made me feel like I was his last resort.
• He made me hate myself and loose all my self esteem.
• He would pretend he didn't know me when out with his mates.

But why am I still not over him? Ughhh, it's not fair.

Hot kiss, won't you tell me what you miss boy.

I've decided to not make this blog all about my past but instead what's to come. However to fill in all the gaps I'm gunna do 3 posts over the three main sexual relationships/misdemeanour's in my life. So lets start with...
Army Boy
Army boy was a sweet friend of a friend who I liked from the word go. However, despite endless nights flirting and grinding against him, I just couldn't get him to kiss me. It took until one stifling hot September night in a dodgy club where our tongues finally found one another. Now he was the kinda boy who knew just how much to move his head during a deep kiss, knowing how to move his tongue and what to do with his hands (however it turned out later that his handy work was less impressive unfortunately). Man that boy could kiss. Finally a chance meeting in a bar after two months without seeing each other led to a supervised drunken stumble home by Army Boy in the heavy, pouring rain. We ended up having to stop off at his to dry off, which instead led to a drunk but lovely shag on a washing machine. Shame it wasn't turned on that may have added to it. However, Army boy decided he no longer wanted to know or speak to me. Apparently I was too forward for him, too sexually charged. So things fizzled out. That's when I met Boiler boy(will be in a later post) and he filled that man shaped hole in my head for a while. After things turned sour with him, Army Boy wondered back into my life. Leaving my New Years party he kissed me deeply as he left, we then decided to start organising a mutual friends surprise birthday party via texting. I left for Berlin for a week in February, whilst I was away the texts began to become flirty telling me how much he missed me and eventually became dirty. I came home the day before valentines and he asked me to go out on a date, until he realised other girls who would be out would assume we were together, well that couldn't be happening now could it.
I eventually put everything aside about how I felt about him and just ran with it. Again, a supervised drunken walk home by Army boy led to an intense but overall disappointing shag. We made it to my house however, due to strict catholic parents our heated, highly sexual snogging couldn't be taken up to the bedroom. So instead we decided to take it up to the woods behind my house. The rain began to pour as our desires heightened. In the thick mud and heavy rain I was pushed against a nearby tree and we began to have sex. despite how passionate and turned on we both were; I was getting absolutely nothing. Zilch, Nada. I have never faked it ever before, but hey to this day he still thinks we came together. It was during this I realised that before I had just let my dissatisfaction be known, but I actually cared deeply for this boy and didn't want to hurt his feelings. Two days later he sent me a text saying: "thanks for the other night, was fun and all but I consider sleeping with you to be a massive mistake, one of the biggest I've made in my life it should never have happened I have no feelings for you at all. sorry" I was crushed to say the least, but not wanting to show my upset, like the moron I was, I just continued like nothing had fased me at all. Things didn't even fully end until his birthday in March when out with friends he made a comment about be being the biggest slut he knew. I definitely didn't take this lightly, nor did anyone else we were with. One public argument in the street later we spoke no more. Its now August and due to having mutual friends and seeing each other all the time, I decided to patch everything up and attempt to be friends. God knows how this will work out this time round.

Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder but BANG

Now I wouldn't mind being even half as beautiful as this girl, man who wouldn't!

I have not been kissed like this in so long. I'm dying for a decent kiss. Nothing turns me on more, well mabye a bite to the neck as it happens.
Mmm deep kisses.

The start of something beautiful.

Lets start with the basics. I am nineteen nearly 20, growing older doesn't scare me, it's not the gradual increase in age which scares me about being 20 it's the next fact: I have never been in a relationship be it long term or otherwise. I even as a child or despicable young teenager never had the sort of "boyfriends" that other girls had, the sort which lasted an hour or two or maybe at a push if you were really lucky... a week! And I'm the only one out of every girl I know! What the hell am I doing wrong? Is every girl my age as obsessed with sex as me? I can't seem to go one journey in the car with my family without my mind wondering into past and hopefully future pleasures. Oh help.

Now boys were never interested in me when I was younger, and who blames them, I'll paint you the (very) unattractive picture of a young adolescent me:

• I was horribly tall. - I was 5 ft 5 by the time I started secondary school when I was 11 and everyone else was still just breaching that 5ft mark, this giant freak like height only evened out when I was 17 and my body decided that it would actually let the boys grow taller than me.
• I was ginger. I use was since with the aid of some very expensive hair dye I am now a non brassy blonde. Now when I say ginger I mean GINGER pretty much orange which wasn't a good match when mixed in with my...
• Extremely pasty white skin, which liked to turn a lovely shade of fuchsia when any form of attention or embarrassment was thrown my way. This lovely pasty skin also turns a shade of purple in the cold or even slight breeze.
• I had puppy fat, which eventually further into my mid teens turned into well fat with no dog to blame.
• I had a set of 36DD's by the time I was 14. No this doesn't sound like a bad thing in the slightest but big tits are not a thing of lust for young teenage boys, no matter what you hear. They are nothing more than another thing to mock, as if they didn't already have enough to choose from! 
• Oh and to top it all off, I was heavily into punk music the late 70's, early 80's sex pistols and clash educed era. And well you could definitely tell it from the way I dressed from the bright pink doc martens to the ripped, studded and zipped jeans to the mass amount of black eye liner.

Oh yes I was a looker and this looker had next to no sexual experience minus a few drunken snogs and one horribly failed attempted to give head. - but more about that later.

Luckily things evened out: the freakish height evened out at a respectable 5ft8 (thank god! I used to have nightmares that I would never ever stop growing, like Alice in Wonderland), I still may be pasty but the rare bit of fake tan often hides such rainbow skin, the fat well most of its gone and with the aid of a small waist and a now 36FF chest it forms an hourglass hiding the fat, put the punk music's still there however there's no indication whatsoever to it in my attire (to my mothers relief).

Back to the boyfriend thing... I'm not completely hapless, there has been sex, be it awful or amazing, its been there. However how is it every lad I end up with scarpers?

I decided to start this blog to figure out what the hell I'm doing wrong since now I'm shagless and completely sexually frustrated, I hope I figure it out soon otherwise my poor clit's not gunna last the summer.