Good grief. I have been trying to find time to write in here but there is just NO time at all. I’ve been meaning to finally write all this at work when I’ve got fuck all else to do but I keep getting distracted or suddenly bombarded with work... today I’ve had my line manager sitting next to me, so I’ve been waiting for the right moment when she went away.
I bet I can’t get all this done today. Stressssssssss, man. I have so fucking much to say. I will probably have to just keep saving it and going back to it.
Anyway. Long fucking time no see, aye? I am not dead. I am still here. As usual. I never normally die. I guess I better just jump right into it and continue from where I left off.
So, the Geordie guy and I fell apart. I think we met like once more after whatever I said last time and that was it. We had a similar night of filth like the previous time we met, but probably even more dirty and rough. I am struggling to remember now. But don’t worry, I have plenty more slutty stories to tell from this year, believe me. So, I think we fell apart because he just didn’t seem interested in me anymore. The distance was terrible, of course. But we spoke every night on webcam, watched films “together” etc. But in the end he just seemed distant. I took it pretty badly. Very badly, in fact. I guess when you spend that much time speaking to someone and basically no one else, it is really fucking tough to get over when they’re not there anymore. We had a huge argument where he basically told me to fuck off because I was getting too much to handle. At the time I couldn’t really understand it. But I do now.
I was really not myself during the end of October and throughout November. I completely lost my fucking mind. Everything was just getting to be too much, and I couldn’t handle any of it. I was so fucking nasty to all the people closest to me, all I did was attempt to push them away. There was one night in particular where I just had some dramatic exit from social media and people in America were so concerned they actually contacted the police and I had a very embarrassing visit from people from the hospital at about 2am when I’d passed out drunk. I was fucking LIVID. I know now they only did it because they cared and thought I was going to hurt myself, but I was so embarrassed and so angry. That just made things worse.
I honestly can’t remember much more about that period of my life. Very soon after this the seizures began. They were constant. I never remembered them happening but of course for everyone else witnessing them it was just terrifying. I wouldn’t know what to do in that situation if I saw someone else having a fit. I had a really stressful time not knowing what the fuck was going on with me. I had to wait for ages to be seen by a professional and by the time I finally saw a neurologist I was constantly having seizures. I got put on medication and had to wait for one of those weird scans where you go through a really loud tunnel. Like in The Exorcist. I can’t remember what they’re called now. But anyway, they couldn’t find much going on in my brain (I can believe that) so they had to cancel out the possibility of it being epilepsy related. So, to cut a long story short I haven’t actually been diagnosed with anything. The medication appears to help. I have the occasional one and sometimes I will wake up covered in blood where I have either bitten my tongue/gums to pieces or smacked my head on something when I fall down. Last year I fell down the top of the stairs during one, so that was not very pleasant to wake up from. I also once bit my tongue so hard that an entire chunk of it just vanished. I chewed it completely off. I won’t bang on about it anymore because I have just accepted it now, really. There is nothing I can do about it so I just carry on.
In December I met up with Hertford for the first time in a few years. His relationship in Ireland fell apart and I was just a mess so we met in a hotel room and did what we usually would in 2015, aha. My god, he is gorgeous. But I always accepted from all that time ago that we’d only ever meet up on the rare occasion to fuck or whatever.
Soon after that I was really spiralling downwards. My drinking was the worst it had been in years. I was convinced I was going to die, with the seizures and whatnot. Having no answers for it just drove me insane. There was this really weird week when I went round my best mates house and I was very depressed, and we made a mistake there again. In the morning I was still really fucking drunk and for a laugh I suggested we just get engaged. Because why the fuck not? As far as I was concerned I was going to die soon. But he obviously took it way more seriously because he’s always sort of been in love with me. A few days after I must have sobered the fuck up because I was just like… what the fuck have I done? So, I obviously called that off. Which really hurt him, but at the time I was so far down in this bottomless pit of depression I just didn’t give a fuck.
Fast forward to January and I met up with Hertford one more time before my birthday. We did the usual hotel room bullshit. I was starting to feel better mentally by then, so I just enjoyed myself and was hoping at some point I’d see him again soon if we were both single and bored. Turns out I’ve not had the chance because of committed relationships.
I can’t remember who came first after that… I think it was this Twitter dude that was asking me about podcast advice or some bollocks like that. I don’t know how but we somehow got flirting and at this point I was just in full fuck-boi mode. Or fuck-gurl. I dunno. We arranged to go on a date, but he was very odd. I even knew this at the time. He always seemed to want to start an argument. Even when I was at work at the library. Or he’d disappear for a few days. He never wanted to speak on the phone when we’d finish work in the evening. I had really big suspicions, but I wasn’t taking any of it seriously because I wasn’t in the mood for an actual relationship.
So, we went on our first date. Pub, as usual. We were sitting close together at this table and he leaned forward to kiss me so that was me right in there. A little while later he went quiet. I was getting a bit anxious, so I asked what was wrong. And he said something along the lines of “I guess I should tell you this now. I have wanted to tell you for the last few weeks, but I thought it would be better to tell you in person.” So, here I just thought… well, for fuck’s sake. I’ve met another dickhead. He then went on to tell me that the reason he couldn’t ever have phone calls with me when he was at home was because he still lived with his ex-girlfriend. They split up and were still waiting for their lease on the flat to run out, so they were basically apparently stuck with each other. At this point I just zoned out and stopped giving a fuck. Well actually, I was a little upset. He swore he would sleep on the sofa while she had the bed and he was desperate to get out of there. I went quiet for a bit but eventually I just thought… nah, there is no use in caring. I won’t date him properly. He was far too into politics and it bored the shit out of me. Also, he brought up his ex a lot and that is obviously a massive turn off. In the end I caved in and we were getting off loads in the pub. He was getting ridiculously hard and was suddenly looking up hotels in the area that we could stay in for the night, but they were all either too expensive or it was too late to check in.
I think about a week later he came to my town and we were to the pub next door to the hotel that I know far too well at this point… I never said I was a saint, aha. Once he’d had enough of the pub because I was apparently a massive cocktease and he just wanted to jump me in the bedroom, we left and immediately got down to it when the door shut. I had an extremely good night. I think it’d been a while since he had a fuck, so he seemed very pleased to have a really filthy slut to do all of this with. I think I often surprise blokes because I’m pretty laidback and then behind closed doors I just completely change. Although I am still incredibly submissive. I just always put my angelic sweet voice on and it drives them fucking insane.
I can’t actually remember how this all went to shit in the end. I think it was his massive paranoia and the fact he was so fucking indecisive about if he liked me or not. He kept saying he wanted to move out and then get with me fully, but I think at this point I’d just had enough. I guess I got bored. But it didn’t stop him from Whatsapping me constantly and trying to get me to talk dirty and send him more smutty photos. This lasted for a little while, but it fizzled out eventually.
Almost immediately after this I got talking to another Twitter guy. He’d previously asked me if I’d like to meet up with him to go out for a drink with him, but I totally missed the DM. When he messaged me again I noticed what he’d said, and we got talking properly. We kept joking about how we didn’t want anything serious, so we’d be fuck buddies, or whatever the fuck it’s called these days. We agreed that I’d travel to Guildford to his house and we’d just have a night of fun, but he was the one that started saying shit like “you’re so cool, I think I am starting to like you, what if I don’t want to just be a fuck buddy of yours after we meet?” and I didn’t really know what to say, because by this stage I was just fucking done with relationships. I went to his and we went to a pub. Standard. We got on really well and we were talking about our pasts and whatever. I found out he’d been previously married for a while in his 20s. I think he was about 31 at this stage when I met him? Fuck knows. But she cheated on him, so he was immediately the fuck out of that disaster. We went back to his and tried to watch a film, but we got distracted and fucked on the sofa, oops. After this we went to his bedroom for more and eventually fell asleep.
The next day we went out for food and a walk around the town where we talked a lot more, but I noticed he wasn’t exactly all over me this time. We got back to his and we were watching some Netflix comedian live and when I went to get closer to him and kiss his neck because I wanted more sex, he paused the TV and looked at me and said, “I think we should just be friends.” So, I was pretty upset. I would rather he’d just told me that in the morning so I could go home there and then. After this I immediately got all my stuff, he drove me to the train station and after that we must have had a really brief conversation on WhatsApp in the week and we never spoke again.
Shortly after all of this I ended up losing my job at the library. There was all this talk of the council shutting 3 of the 5 libraries in our town down. No one really uses libraries anymore, so they were looking to drop some employees and I was one of them that didn’t get my contract renewed again. They also tried saying that the seizure thing was too much of a worry to them. Apparently it was unfair on other employees and customers to have to worry about me having seizures at work (I’d had like two or three while I was working there) and they didn’t want me there falling down any stairs or injuring myself. They were basically more concerned about them getting in trouble or sued if anything happened to me in the workplace. I was obviously heartbroken about this because I loved working in the library and I apparently should have taken it further because it was a really unfair dismissal, but to be honest I just couldn’t be fucking bothered.
So, I was unemployed for a few months. Soon after this I got talking to someone on POF. Well, he’d found my Instagram and tried asking me if I’d like to go for a drink but again I completely missed the message and when I eventually found it I was up for it. He seemed pretty cool. Well, tragically uncool like me. A proper gaming and film nerd. We got into an actual relationship. But it was mega awkward because he admitted to me that he was a virgin before we met for the first time. We met in London and stayed there overnight after food and then we went to the cinema the next day and got more food. I knew at this point he was going to properly ask me out and at the time I was thrilled. Looking back on it… It was just so boring. He was boring. When it came to sex he just couldn’t seem to… get it up, properly? I think we managed to have brief sex like twice. Obviously he was extremely nervous and so was I because I’d never corrupted someone like that before. I don’t actually know if he’d count it in his eyes. Did we properly have sex? I don’t know and at this point I really don’t care. After two months of me travelling to Hastings every weekend by train to stay with him at weekends he suddenly broke up with me completely out of the blue. By text. On his work break. He claimed the distance was too much, but it was me that was travelling to him. I was absolutely devastated. More because I was convinced there must be more of a reason to just leave me like that. I just wanted to know what the fuck was wrong with me. It seemed that the majority of this year was just me getting fucked over. In hindsight I am just really glad it all fell apart. He was pretty dire, you know?
After this I think I went into rebound mode. I reinstalled Tinder and POF and someone from POF messaged me again to attempt a second time to see if I’d like to meet up with him. Eventually I did say we should meet up one afternoon, go for a drive, just hang out. When we got bored of hanging out with nothing much to do we ended back at his. We were watching TV in his living room and chatting when I just suddenly jumped on his lap when we were on the sofa. Shortly after that he got up, took my hand and dragged me to his bedroom. Then came a lot of rough sex with me on top and then cum all over my face. THEN we went out for something to eat. Doing shit backwards, as always. We had a little month or so with that same bunch of stuff happening over and over. Or sometimes I’d just sit there on his sofa reading while he was at his PC writing his book. I’m not sure if there were mega feelings there but it was nice to be stared at when I was talking, or if he’d be mid-sentence then stop to say something like “fucking hell, you’re pretty” or “you’re so ridiculously beautiful” then have to remember what he was saying.
This all fizzled out yet again when it started to get complicated. I think there were feelings between the both of us in the end, but we were pretty incompatible. We weren’t friends, but we always weren’t anything more. I think we were both upset when we decided to part ways, but it would have just got messy in the end. One of us would have met someone and then we’d never be able to see each other again because the chemistry was too much between us.
I was pretty gutted about this. I started going to my local pub a lot more around this time. It is just around the corner from my house and everyone in there is really nice. It’s mostly middle-aged men that go in there every night but they’re very friendly and protective over me. Sounds weird, I know. But I trust them. The only one time I got pissed off with one of them was when I went in there at about 9pm on a Friday and this one guy was already pissed out of his skull. He kept telling me to go over to talk to him, but I was just enjoying my pint by myself and didn’t fancy talking much. So he got really sulky and annoying about it. That typical over the top drunk attitude. I think in the end he stormed out because I wasn’t talking to him… haha.
One evening I went in there for a quick pint. I say a quick pint… it never ends up like that when you have that sort of mindset. Oh, what a fucking night. It was a disaster. I kept putting music on the jukebox and a few of them sitting at the bar convinced me to go and sit with them and mingle instead of sitting on my tod. One of them was about my age and I’d seen him in there a few times before. He kind of irritated me because he was so loud and over the top. He kept making me laugh that night, though. About 4 of the guys, me and the barmaid stayed there drinking pints and Jagerbombs until about 2am. This guy who was making me laugh is covered in tattoos and he’d just got his palms tattooed. No idea why. He had to have surgeon gloves covering them for the first day and everyone was taking the piss.
Anyway, he disappeared at one point. Because we’d had a lock in to all get horribly drunk, I decided to call it a night after my “quick” pint that turned into about 7 and 4 Jagerbombs. I had offers from a couple of them to walk me home, but I was like “nah man, I literally live around the corner” so I went off staggering back home. I turned the corner and suddenly I bumped into the tattooed guy. I said, “I thought you’d gone home!” and he said “yeah so did I. But I came back. Want me to walk you home?” and I accepted. But we were in a flirty mood by then. We’d be eyeing each other up in the pub for the last couple of hours and at this point I was stupid drunk and… well. There is a park on the way to my house. We sort of ran in there and I went on the swings for a bit like an immature fucking child. He was sat on the bench smoking and I waltzed over to him and climbed on him and before I know it, we’re fucking on the bench. So, from 2am until 4:30am when I got home we were doing fuck knows what. I remember him saying “fucking hell, you’re so hot” or “naughty” when I was giving him a blowjob and making it as messy as possible with all the spit and deepthroating. He pushed me on the grass at one point and fucked me there and by then I think we were done messing about. We were FAR too drunk, but it was fun. I got home with my make up smeared all over my face and leaves and things stuck in my hair. Woopsie. I climbed into bed where I passed the fuck out and when I woke up in the morning I had the most bruised and cut up knees ever. Apparently knees do not like concrete pavements…
A short while after that I found out he had a girlfriend. That really pissed me off. Not because I liked him or anything – I just felt so fucking sorry for her. He told me he didn’t before we got all filthy. The lying bastard. But I’ve heard from a few people at the pub that he does that sort of thing all the time and she never leaves him. I felt so horrendously guilty, but I know it wasn’t my fault. And it ain’t my place to go gossiping – I don’t want to be involved in that at all. I haven’t heard anything since and thankfully I ain’t seen him around in the pub so that is good.
Right... what happened after that? Oh, so this guy kept harassing me on Instagram in DM’s asking if I wanted to meet up with him at any point. Watch a film round his, have some beers and he’d cook some food. I kept declining because I just couldn’t be fucking bothered. But I guess one Sunday afternoon I was feeling particularly in need of a fuck because I asked if he was free. He was. He came and picked me up, we went to his house and watched a couple of films. I felt absolutely no spark. I’m sure he didn’t either. But since I was there I just thought “fuck it” and fucked him. It was good. We were in his living room, he dragged me to his bedroom, we had fun in there, we got dressed and went back to watch the film and then we just fucked on the sofa. Then he cooked me food, aha. It was an alright afternoon. We have spoken a bit on Insta since then but not much. He did hint that he wanted me to come over a few times but again I couldn’t be bothered.
Didn’t I tell you I’ve had an eventful year? It’s literally just been non stop fucking sex with all these people. It really ain’t good. Even if it feels it at the time, aha. But fuck it. Why not? I was single and fed up with being fucked over so much so I just decided to have some fun.
I’m now trying to think if I’ve missed anyone out… I went on a date back in November 2018 with some bloke in a gaming bar in Stratford. It was alright. We just spoke a lot. When we were kissing he suddenly stopped because he felt really awkward. It was because I was turning him on so much so he felt embarrassed that he had a hard on, haha. We didn’t speak again much after that. Just sometimes you feel no spark so there’s no point in carrying on.
One night I was being walked home from the pub by someone that used to work behind the bar there and he stopped me midway and got all in my face to kiss me, so I was drunk enough that I kissed him back. Again, nothing happened after that. We’ve seen each other in there since but we’re just friendly.
Then there was another night with best friend. We’d got invited onto a local radio station to promote our podcast which was extremely fucking surreal. It was really weird going into an actual studio to talk about the thing I love so dearly. But it was extremely fucking difficult holding in the swearing. You all know what I’m like when it comes to swearing, aha. So for this podcast interview we had to record a “safe” episode with absolutely no swearing. Still having our banter and sense of humour but it hust had to be clean so they could take a few audio clips from it and use it on the radio interview. It was really strange getting texts and praise on Facebook after from friends and family who said I’d smashed it and they were really proud of me. I refused to listen back to the interview once it was online. I have to listen to myself drone on when I edit, so that’s fucking enough for me. Anyway, I was too nervous to record that swear free episode, so I went round best mate’s house to record. Then I edited it. Then I got drunk. And I guess we messed about a bit. I’m not sure if we banged or whatever. I never usually remember much when I go round there. Also my memory is fucking piss poor as it is.
I think that’s pretty much it. Around this time I applied for a job with the local council again and it was for business support in social care. I had absolutely no faith in myself, but I got called in for an interview. I am the most negative cunt in the world so I didn’t really excel and put myself out there. I seemed to just make them laugh with my sense of humour and honesty. I had to do this computer test after and I thought I’d cocked it up so badly, but it turns out I did something well. Because out of all the people they interviewed, they decided to hire me. So, this is where I am now. It’s taken me most of the fucking day to write this, but I am currently in an office on my own because I have a headache and want some silence, so I am juggling writing this and doing work. This job is a bit hit and miss. I do like it but because it’s in social care you hear about some fucking awful cases to do with really horrible stories about children being abused it all sorts of ways. It really got me down at first but 2 months in and I think I am already getting desensitised by it. I think it’s the only way you can survive in this sort of job. I just like to think that because it’s actually social “care” it means we’re doing everything we can to get them out of those horrific situations. Anyway, this is the most I’ve ever earned money wise, so I am happy about that. Anytime I have a 1:1 meeting with my line manager she is constantly praising me and saying how impressed she is that I pick things up so fast and adapt to tasks very easily. And that I am always asking the right questions while I’m still new. And she’s already giving me more responsibility with putting me in charge of certain parts of the job and giving me my own things to take over. So, it’s all happy fucking days for now. I hope it lasts. I really need something stable that I can keep and do the boring adult stuff by saving and moving out. I’ll be 29 in January, so I really need to get my arse into gear. We’ll see what happens.
There was another POF guy that I got involved with, but we only met the once. He kept flaking out every time we arranged to go out to the pub to hang out. I was getting pretty fucking sick of it until he finally actually made his way here and we went out drinking. We had a proper laugh and we were already arranging a second date. We had sex and all that, but he seemed a bit intimidated about all the things I wanted done to me, aha. The whole degrading and being massively dominant towards a girl can be too much to handle when you’re not used to it, I guess. Once again he flaked out on our second date. And then the third. But then he invited me to go and see Muse with him and we booked our tickets for the O2 arena. I was so excited as I don’t really listen to any of their new stuff, but I was really thrilled to be going to see them and hearing their old music. He kept letting me down before we had the chance to go and I just thought “fuck it” and basically said see you later. And then he had the fucking audacity to act really upset and offended that I longed him off, for the first time ever. Whatever, man.
I had a brief spell where I was hanging out with someone. He lived here but moved to America where he got married for about 8 years. They split when he found out she’d been cheating on him for months, so he moved back here. I didn’t even realise it at first but we went to the same primary school and secondary school. I think he knew all along, but I didn’t even clock onto we’d met about 4 times. We went to the cinema a couple of times, to the pub a few times and I stayed with him in a room twice, I think? We didn’t have sex or anything. I mean I think we wanted to but it just never came to that. He’d only slept with his ex-wife and I think he was too nervous about me because I am admittedly a bit kooky and I told him all the things I liked. He was very excited about all of that but when it came down to it he just couldn’t pluck up the courage to do anything. I didn’t pressure anything, though. A short while after he said he’d only just moved back home and he didn’t want to rush into anything, and I was completely fine with that because I didn’t want to be getting into some big complicated thing with someone that’d only just left his wife, for fuck’s sake. But I think I did a good job in getting him back on his feet while he had to adjust to being back in this shithole town again. I think I did a good job at being a friend when he needed it.
This is 6 and a half pages long on Word and I still need to tell you about the current boy. I’ll try and keep it brief. But you know I won’t. I don’t know how to do brief, aha. So, a few months ago when I was still on those fucking soul-destroying dating apps I swiped yes to some guy that I found attractive and I liked his profile. We matched and instantly got chatting. I always really love it when I get talking to someone new and we immediately just have great “banter” and we talk like we’ve known each other for years. This happened here. We’ve been together nearly 3 months now and I am so incredibly happy. It is a massive rarity to find someone that is serious on Tinder. I think at this point I was getting really depressed about going on auto-pilot and just opening those apps to read through tons of messages and never feel the urge to respond. But we got talking. He lives in Lewisham which is a bit of a bitch, but we see each other every weekend. We went to a pub in my town when we first met. There was an IMMEDIATE spark and he said pretty early on “you’re doing very well, by the way. This is a fucking metric ton better than any other dates I’ve been on” so I just laughed sarcastically because I never believe that bullshit. Because he lived in London he booked a hotel room in advance just in case it went well and he didn’t want to get the last train home. It didn’t necessarily mean I had to go back with him. In fact, I wasn’t expecting much in the first place because I have been so used to disappointment this year. We were sitting on a bench smoking outside but when I came back from the toilet a bit later on in the night he’d moved all our stuff to another bench where we’d be sitting much closer together. He tried being all like “whaaaat? But we’ve been sat in this exact spot all night” and I was just like alright, this is how it’s going then. Pretty soon after that we were all over each other and we made it back to the room where we straight away banged. Well, he was going down on me first which felt fucking aaaaaamazing, then I did the same for him and he enjoyed it very much because he said girls in the past can never be fucking bothered to do it for him. I have never understood that. How can you expect to receive it all the time if you’re too fucking lazy to give? I LOVE to give. Ah well. So, we fucked and all that standard stuff. Very, very good.
A little while later in the evening when he was asleep I started feeling really rough. I felt terrible but I also didn’t want to wake him. So, I just got all my things and snuck out the room to go home. I left a really long WhatsApp message to apologise so much and I asked if he’d forgive me. He responded in the morning saying he was a little afraid that I’d just ghosted him, bless him. But we agreed to meet in town before he went home to go for some food and a few drinks. We walked around town for a bit and I was wary that he didn’t seem too interested as he was the previous night. But to be honest I was the same. We were both nursing headaches from the beer and tequila shots. We sat in the pub for hours talking about video games and movies. We started edging closer to each other again and when he went to get up for a cigarette at one point he was like “well this is fucking awkward” and I looked down at his jeans to see this massive fucking bulge, ahahaha. We had a few more drinks and all of a sudden he looked deep in thought. I asked him what he was thinking and he looked at me for a bit and said, “I know it’s Sunday and I’ve got work tomorrow but I am seriously considering calling in sick so I can book a room with you again tonight.” I was absolutely shocked. I didn’t realise he thought so much of me so soon. But we did exactly that and I felt really fucking good about things.
Ever since then he’s been coming to my town every weekend or near enough every weekend. Because I didn’t start my job until late October and didn’t get paid until the end of November I was struggling with money, so he’s been coming here. We never even do much but we’re completely on the same wavelength. We always stay in the same hotel because I’m at that stage in my life now where I have this sort of respect for my parents where I don’t just invite boys round the house to have loud sex with them. Also we play a lot of video games until stupid o’clock in the morning and my mum has to get up for work really early every weekend so it’s just a lot kinder to them. Money isn’t an issue because he has a really high paying job. He also works for his local council in social care, but if I was there with him he’d basically be my boss. Which I find incredibly fucking attractive. I have met a couple of his friends now when we met up with them in Clapham Junction a few weeks back and that was nice. He doesn’t have his own place right now, but he shares a place with housemates that he hates. It’s one of those shitty places where you’re not allowed to have guests stay over, but the rent is cheap so he’s doing alright for now.
We’re extremely serious about each other and I just feel really happy for the first time in ages. Steady, good paying job, a boyfriend that spoils me and compliments me constantly and makes me feel sexy and supports me, my family are rad as fuck as always and although I have the occasional suicidal thoughts and bouts of depression, it hasn’t been nearly as bad as it has been before in the past. But as always I don’t really like to get too optimistic about things. I mean, for all I know I could write in here next and say I’ve split up with him because he dumped me and I’ve fucked about half of the town since then. Sigh.
I just really fucking like him. I remember when we went out for the first time on the Saturday he mentioned he had a date lined up for the Wednesday that coming week. I tried to hide my disappointment but he immediately said after just a few hours of meeting me that he was going to cancel it because he already had a good feeling about us. We just immediately clicked. We can just sit there and do fuck all really but still really love being in each other’s company. And not to be shallow but fucking hell, he’s so good in bed. The D is rad, man. He said he’s not really had girls that have been into rough stuff or experimenting so he’s glad he met me because he can just fuck my brains out without worrying that he’s going too far. And he makes me cum so easily, it is insane. Usually I have to sort of give myself a little bit of help to get there but he just does it all my fucking me and getting into just the right spot. I am constantly thinking about it… such as now… and it turns me on so much, ugh. I haven’t seen him since the weekend before this last one. We try to save a bit of money by having a weekend off every month, but I won’t be seeing him next weekend either as he’ll actually be staying at my house on the 24th until the 27th for the first time. He doesn’t get along with any of his family, so he said that Christmas is just like any other day to him. I refused to let him do that this year and said he really should come stay with us. It means we’ll have to be quiet… but it’ll be worth it knowing that he ain’t all alone. It would’ve been like 3 weeks since we had sex so I’m going to have to just be extremely fucking quiet, if I can. I doubt I can be but I’ll be ravenous by then, aha.
So now I’m at the end of 8 pages into this document and I guess I should be shutting the fuck up now! But yes, I hope you’re all well and nope, I ain’t dead. I promise I’ll try and update soon. Maybe I can just do updates at work, I dunno. But it’s been so hectic this year that I just couldn’t even begin to know where to fucking start. But hey, I have done it now!
Thanks for reading, DL xo.
3:33 p.m. - Monday, Dec. 16, 2019