Cold

Fuck winter. Fuck the cold. Fucking early morning rounds. Fuck.
I hate this time of year. It’s dark, it’s cold, it’s super hard to get up in the morning and you don’t get to see any sunlight because you get to hospital before dawn and leave after nightfall.

Oh well, time to put on my ‘bright and perky’ face!

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Bailed

I was supposed to be seeing J today to go and see X-men (yeah, I know, it’s been out forever) but after I woke up at 2pm after the ball, the thought of driving for an hour to get to his house and then another hour to get to mine after was just too exhausting. Especially considering I have to clean my house and prepare for uni tomorrow. Ick, 7am rounds.
I feel pretty bad, I messaged him on Facebook and left a voicemail but got no response. Not that he is great at that. I’m terrible at responding to stuff so I cannot criticise.
I still want to see X-men because my inner Marvel nerd really wants to go. Maybe another night when I’m not feeling so frazzled.
I wish he didn’t live so far away. He used to live 15min from me, but then got a job at a different hospital on the other side of the city.
Not that I’m feeling like a randy hornbag right now, I just feel tired and gross. (Not hungover, I didn’t drink that much. But still seedy.)
That and I guess our dynamic is better with the emphasis on the ‘Friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’ but I don’t know. I don’t know if friends with benefits is exactly the right term. We only fuck if we are sleeping in the same bed, it just happens as a sort of natural progression. Outside of that, we are pretty much completely non-sexual. Although I wouldn’t mind changing that.
Oh, and I still have a bite mark on my shoulder from Thursday. Heh, love it.

Edit: turns out he stayed up all night playing video games and was just as ragged as me so we have postponed.

Lousy Snog

I am of the opinion that you can, on a superficial level, gauge how well someone fucks by the way that they kiss.
S was a fantastic kisser and a phenomenal fuck. J is also a great kisser and a thoroughly enjoyable root.
So, with my sample size of 2, I declare kissing as a screening test for sexual ability. No, seriously though, I think the way someone kisses says a lot about them.

So here is a bit of a tale of how I tried to embrace my confidence and get my rocks off and ended up blogging about a lousy snog.
A good friend of mine invited me to a country masquerade ball and it was this weekend.
We decked up in corsets (real ones, with steel boning and serious waist reduction) and fancy frocks. I wore my gorgeous pink satin and black lace corset with some halter straps that I added hastily on the day and a poufy tulle skirt. I felt like a princess.
The band was great, lots of swing. I love dancing to swing.
Whilst most of the people there were middle aged couples, there were a few young guys there who were really very good looking and getting into the music. One in particular caught my eye and we started dancing together.
Between dances, my friend mentioned that he was really nice, and that he was a footballer (totally ‘ripped’) and that if she wasn’t married she would totally go for him (she was happy-drunk at this stage) so I decided that I’d dance with him a bit more. A song that was a little less boppy came on and he wrapped his arm around my waist and twirled me around. At that stage I was thinking that hooking up with a random hot country boy seemed like a pretty great idea (embracing my newfound confidence and all that) so I gave him my number (Alert! Rookie mistake! Will not ever do again.) whilst my friend and I chatted with him. He gave off a bit of a country kid vibe but hey, I am looking for sex, not intelligent conversation. He was also gob smacked when I told him I was single, which was very flattering. But I didn’t mention the fact that I just got out of a super-duper-serious relationship and am currently cruising for fucks because I didn’t want to weird him out with tmi-ness.

We danced a bit more and despite my stepping on his toes a few times (in my defence, I was wearing 6-inch stilettos), I was having a great time.
His hand in the small of my back as we dipped and swung to the music and he leaned in for a kiss. This is it! I was excited, it was going to be a moment!
Then, in an instant, it changed and I was hit with disappointment. It was like someone had turned off the bright glossy lights and dumped a bucket of water over my head.
Now, I am usually of the opinion that a good kiss starts closed mouthed and builds. But this guy? Open mouth, tongue in. I pulled back, a little taken off-guard. He kissed me again, open mouth on my closed lips, ramming his tongue into my mouth. At this stage I had switched from ‘he is going to kiss me, gosh yes!’ to ‘He kisses like an overly enthusiastic junior highschooler. ABORT! ABORT! ABANDON MISSION!’
I have him another chance at it and got exactly the same thing. Sloppy open mouthed snog with lots of tongue. Nope, I’m out. If he fucks like he kisses, he will be a terrible fuck.
Thankfully, the safety pin holding the halter strap on to my boob failed and I had to excuse myself to the bathroom to readjust it. (No boob flashing, it just came loose and I had to tuck the fabric into my corset a few times.)
When I came out, he and my friend were chatting and she asked if I was having a good time and I gave the most insincere “Yes! Lots of fun!” I have ever managed and then whispered in her ear that he was a terrible kisser.
She helped me bail and with her friends, shielded me on the dance floor like a good friend does. And apologised all night, which made me giggle.
I also found out that I am terrible at rejection. He approached me after the band stopped playing and asked whether I wanted his company (I admit, he was polite and nice) and while I frantically tried to work out how to let him down gently, the words “Ah, I’m fine thanks.” Fell out of my mouth and I patted him on the arm.
I feel mean, especially since he kissed me on the cheek and wished me a good night after I rejected him. But honestly, I just couldn’t force myself to risk terrible sex.
He was sweet, and it was refreshing. But sweet isn’t what I am looking for.
I also feel kind of mean because I am blogging about it and I also feel like I may have overreacted somewhat, but at the same time, it was just a super lousy snog.
Yes, I do have ridiculously high standards when it comes to sex, possibly because I have been lucky enough to experience lots of good sex and very little, if any, lousy sex. But frankly, I shouldn’t be ashamed of my high standards. I like good sex, why should I settle for anything else?

Friends+

J is only the second person I have had sex with, ever. Which, isn’t unreasonable considering S and I were together since we were 16 and we only split 3 months ago. But it also really helped me put my previous experiences in perspective.

It’s funny, S picked that I would hook up with J before I even thought about it. Apparently he knew it would probably happen well before we split as a ‘if we ever broke up, you guys would probably hook up.’ sort of thing. Not that he mentioned it to me at the time.

I’ve known J for about 2 years. He’s 11 years older than me and 4 years ahead of me in our line of work (that sounds way more exciting than it actually is, I promise).

He is not at all my type, in regards to dating. Which I suppose is why the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing works so well. Our political alignments are on opposite ends of the scale (He votes conservative, I vote to the Left) which means our base ideologies would likely clash, he can be racist and sexist to some degree (I can handle it as a friend, but I do not tolerate that sort of thing in a romantic partner) and there is also the professional gap. Since I am still studying, I have very little income but he is a professional already, he earns a lot more than I do by default. I don’t handle that very well, I feel like in a relationship I need to contribute financially.

Also amusing is that he is the opposite of the aesthetic that I usually find attractive. I usually go for the skinny, tall nerdy guys but J is my height (I’m average height for a girl), hairy and very solidly built. I never thought I would like facial hair either, but I have since discovered that I don’t mind it at all.

So far we’ve only slept together on two occasions (multiple times on said occasions though), mainly due to the fact that he lives an hour away and we both have very, very busy schedules. After the first time, I felt like he suddenly got very distant and I was shitting myself for two weeks because I thought that something had changed and that I’d made a huge mistake. But as I have since found out, there were reasons that had nothing to do with me, which is a huge relief.

So, so far it seems that I am navigating the waters of ‘Friends with Benefits’ or, as I like to say, Friends+, quite well.

Begin

Like a total cliché, I hate writing these things. Introductions and the like.

I’m Ariadne*, 21, cis-gendered female.

I have recently hit a huge turning point in my life. If my life were a book it would be the part where the reader goes “Oh my god! Finally some character development!”

Or at least, that’s what I would hope they would say.

I would like to think that I’m interesting, but in reality I am probably fairly boring. Not average in the traditional sense, but maybe exceptionally average, with some seriously bucking points that might make you double-take.

I am, as many have stated before me, a feminist. Yes, that dirty word. Feminist. Eh, whatever. I’m also body positive and hugely sex positive,. I definitely believe people should have more sex. And not only just more sex, but without guilt or shame. I think sex is awesome. I am also very, very honest and blunt.

So, this will probably be a rambly blog that may not make sense to the people reading it, but then again, who knows?

*I cannot use my real name or any other identifying features as I work in an industry where my professionalism has a high likelihood of taking a huge dive if I were known to write a sex-blog or about my personal life. Also, I will be talking about things in my own life that I want to keep anonymous for obvious reasons.