(Pokemon) Go For Me

pokemonPokemon Go is back in the news as it is one of the standout successes of 2016 and has had a recent upgrade that has got people playing again. It was initially an app that took over the world in the summer. Suddenly parks were swelled with crowds. People were camped out  and flicking their phones at unusual intervals. Others traipsed around town and city centres, heads bowed and oblivious to anything but a poke stop or another creature. Worse than bumping into strangers was the prospect of running out of balls or having even a Pidgey run away from you.

I confess I also became addicted to the game. Not only did it entertain me for hours but I even got asked out as a result of it. While playing Pokemon Go on a train a guy suddenly told me how much he liked gamer girls and then asked me out for a drink!

But there was more. Pokemon Go, and the memory of an ex who I knew would love that the game, inspired my free story Go For Me – the working title was Pokemon Go For Me. You can read an excerpt here on a previous post for Masturbation Monday. Warning – it’s dirty.

Go For Me: A short tale of erotic romance

go for me pokemonHolly has become addicted to playing Pokemon Go on her phone. She pretends it’s because she likes the game but really it reminds her of Lewis, the geeky guy who broke her heart. One night something unusual happens. Holly is lured, through the tricks of the game, to places she and Lewis had significant moments in their relationship. From the supermarket where they first met, fighting over a Star Wars droid, to the park where they had mind blowing sex after he played her the song he’d written for her. All the lures and memories seem to be leading her somewhere significant. But who is in control of this night and what will she find at the last location?

This short story is over 9,000 words and contains sexual situations and language only suitable for those aged 18+

 

It is available for free and can be downloaded as an epub file, mobi file or as a pdf

Click here to download (Pokemon) Go For Me epub version

Click here to download (Pokemon) Go For Me mobi version

Click here to download Pokemon Go For Me pdf version

Masturbation Monday – Go For Me

masturbation mondayMasturbation Monday

I’ve wanted to get involved with Masturbation Monday (thank you Kayla Lords for organising it every week) for some time now but never had the right story, excerpt or idea to post, until today.

Recently I started playing Pokemon Go and as with most things in my life it inspired a story of love and sex. Please find an excerpt of (Pokemon) Go For Me below. You can read it for free via Literotica or via my news or books page.

 

go for me pokemonThere were questions she attempted to form in her mind; how had he got the mini golf to open, was there anyone around? But none of it mattered when arousal filled every vein and her body quivered against him.

Edging him backwards, she lightly pushed him to the ground, making her intentions clear.

“You want to do it here?”

Holly nodded slowly, aware that her teeth were showing beneath the edges of her smile. Every part of him brought her joy but she’d never been as hungry for him as she was in that moment. The days without him made her want to consume him in a frenzy. She forced herself to relish every touch of his skin, each tickle of her senses. It was foolish to hope the intimacy would heal the last month of suffering but she had faith anyway.

The look of awe was on Lewis’ face again as his eyes swept up her form. Her feet were either side of him, her body poised and ready.

“What do you want?” I’m offering him the world, will he take it?

“I want you to scream my name until you’re hoarse. I want the wind to pick up the sounds of our love making. I want it to carry to those who will have blessing in their lives because they’ll learn what pleasure is just by hearing us.”

“How poetic,” she teased, her belief in their immediate future aiding her in relinquishing her fears, helping her to be whole again.

“And I want to be inside you.” His longing touched her more intimately than any of the recent touches she’d tried to give herself.

“You’d best take my knickers off me then.”

Leaning forward his lips brushed against her skin, worshipping the only part of her he could reach with his mouth. Lewis’ hands reached round and slowly slid up her calves, resting temporarily on the backs of her knees where he drew soft circles with the tips of his fingers.

It was as if everywhere he touched became an erogenous zone but only because of her lust for him. The hands slid higher, reaching under the hem of her flimsy dress before slowly caressing her bum cheeks.

A finger leisurely stroked across her lace covered entrance. Holly hissed in surprise.

“You’re meant to be removing them, not enjoying how they feel,” she said between gritted teeth.

The only response was another lazy stroke before he grabbed the waistband and dragged the lace down.

masturbation mondayLewis allowed her to step out of them before returning his hands to her arse. With great control he squeezed each cheek, as if discovering each fleshy handful for the first time.

“So soft,” he whispered. “Like two sexy peaches.”

Holly giggled until he eased his head under her dress and gave her clit a quick lick.

“Hmmm, very wet and juicy,” he murmured, before suckling gently, causing her to buckle against his mouth.

“Lewis,” she pleaded.

“I’ve missed this. I know not having it was my fault but I need this.” Pressing her bum firmly he pushed her hard against his mouth.

Holding and caressing his head between her hands didn’t stop the earthquake like shakes of her body as he lapped at her. Lewis was like a man kept prisoner for decades finally facing a pure stream of refreshing cold water that dripped down his throat with ease.

Each gentle touch of the tip of his tongue caused her body to hum with need. Anticipation held her tightly as he darted his thick muscle inside her. Holly tried to hold the orgasm and just enjoy the moment but his tongue snaked inside, massaging her like it was created for that purpose alone.

Easing his head away he made one request. “I want to be inside you when you come. I want to see your face when you scream my name.”

I can’t deny him anything. Kneeling down she straddled him, his hands continued to roam, massaging her bum while she ground against his hardness beneath his jeans.

His reaction was ecstasy laced with a desire deeper than she’d seen before. “I come alive with you, Holly. I don’t just mean during sex. My life is empty without you. I need you to be whole, both of us to be whole. I’m sorry for what happened, I really am.”

Putting a finger to his lips to quieten him had a different effect to the one she was expecting. Lewis captured her hand and brought his lips to the pulse point on the inside of her wrist. “I will be yours for as long as you want me. You’re my Pied Piper,” he said between kisses.

Smiling brighter than a blinding sun, she used her spare hand to unfasten his jeans before sliding her hand inside and wrapping her hand around his swollen member.

“No boxers today?”

“I tried to be more adventurous for you.”

“I don’t need adventure, I just need you,” she smiled serenely. “Although it does make for much easier access.”

Lewis released her long enough to grab a condom from his wallet and help her push his jeans down to his ankles.

“Would you put it on? I love watching you do it.” Ripping the foil with her teeth, she delighted at the way his erection pushed at her lips.

“Impatient little fucker, isn’t he?” she joked. Grabbing him roughly, she felt his whole body flinch and squirm as she pushed the rubber the whole way down his length, giving his balls a cheeky stroke. It was his turn to hiss.

Grinding against him brought him deliciously hard against her sensitive clit. The excruciating need emblazoned across his face gave her power, replacing the fear and sadness that had been buried deep for the last month. His eyes squinted against her glow.

Reaching for him, knowing he was already close, she lined him up between her lips.

“Now,” she requested.

The furrow of confusion didn’t last, need overtaking any other thought.

Quickly he thrust his pelvis up, penetrating her in one movement. The feeling of being suddenly full nearly triggered her orgasm but she held it at bay, temporarily.

Not yet, she thought, basking in the pleasure of his erection that pushed into her at increasing speed. Holly rocked against him, her legs acting as leverage. Lifting slightly before slamming down, she felt the fraught pace of his surging body. Lewis’ cries of ecstasy filled her heart, yanking her orgasm closer once more.

Nature was joining them like an orchestra preparing for the grand finale of a concerto. Wind rushed around them while birds rustled the leaves in the trees. The beauty was lost on her, it was him that held her raptured.

“Come for me, Holly. Throw your head back and come with me inside you. I want nothing more,” he demanded. Slow, gentle lovemaking would keep them enthralled later in his bed, where his strong arms would cocoon her while their mouths indulged on each other’s bodies. But for now they were two people who needed to revel in each other’s climax.

Once more she lifted herself and dropped back down as Lewis drove hard, like a beast, inside her. The savage thrust of his body brought an explosion of electricity to her nerve endings. In surrender, she arched her back and rode the swell of desire with vigour. The blinding lights were now within her head and, as she came, she screamed his name.

Lewis’ loud grunts matched her screams in fervour and he shook, bucking against her, his orgasm turning him into a creature that breathed a fire of passion as he clung to her body. Maybe drawn by a need for refuge, he sat up and held her tightly, their convulsing form turning them into one, wrecking their bodies yet provoking a deeper hunger for more.

H is for Heartbreak

Heartbreak doesn’t give you the warm and fuzzies does it?

With online dating, there will be heartbreak and it doesn’t hurt any less because it started virtually.

Mr Fumble was my first significant heartbreak. The name wasn’t a product of my experience with him. There was nothing fumble-like about his skills. The name arose when I chatted about him to a particular group of friends. I didn’t want to tell them what we really got up to so I said we fumbled and let them decipher the rest. This is the first time on this blog that I’ve relinquished my tell-all policy but with him some of my experiences will be remaining private.

Mr Fumble wasn’t always the easiest guy to message. Getting information and casual chat from him was akin to getting that last drop of ketchup out of a nearly empty bottle. He was reluctant to share too much and shy with the deeper stuff. Many weeks later, I realised why. Mr Fumble had been badly hurt in the past and to say his fences were up and high would be a massive understatement. The guy was damaged and wasn’t letting anyone in. The messages usually involved me asking questions about his day and what his work involved. The answers were short, surface stuff but he continued to answer, encouraging me to ask and revealing a little each day.

sexting heartbreakThe evening that the messages neared dirty, flirting territory I was so taken aback I thought I was reading them wrong. When he talked about the gooey centres of the cookies I was baking, the moistness of my brownies and how firm my muffins were, it was fiercely against character and anything we’d discussed previously. I genuinely thought he was a massive fan of baking. Eventually the sexual tease behind his words were revealed and flirting continued in earnest.

One evening, I passed on my number but he was reticent to use it, blaming phone signal and a crap phone.

Maybe as you read this a thought has arisen, “Come on Rebecca, there’s clearly something fishy about this guy.” I suspected the same, there seemed to be something crucial about him I didn’t know and couldn’t work out. I hope even now that he wasn’t married or a compulsive liar because I can’t be sure.

One of the problems with internet dating is that there are some things we may never know about the potentials we like. These things may be as significant as their real surname or past/current relationships.

When online dating, we have to trust our instincts and the advice of our wiser friends. We also need to remember to NEVER send money. There are some untrustworthy people out there and if something seems off then it probably is. If someone we’ve never met is declaring their love for us while asking for us to send money then we move on. I know, from experience that when our hearts get that fluttering, glowing feeling and excitement seems to be a daily thrill that we thought we’d never feel again then our judgement can be as useful as a chocolate condom. But having a clear head is a sad necessity.

Players and scoundrels don’t just frequent the online dating scene. I’ve also met some male and female villains in real life too. People who seem less than genuine are everywhere. Maybe you can think of those you know in your work or social circles who’ve cheated on their partners and have secret addictions to gambling, drugs and illicit encounters. It can take years for you to learn these secrets. Just because you meet someone online doesn’t mean you have to be ruthlessly suspicious of them but trusting your instincts is important.

hot guy heartbreakLet’s get back to Mr Fumble. Eventually, he did use my number and we began to text every day; during the day and a lot during the evenings. It wasn’t long before he was the last person I said goodnight to before my head hit the pillow and the first person I hoped for a message from when I woke. He almost always delivered. Messages included anything from cheeky thoughts to our deepest issues and life experiences.

The day he broached the idea of speaking on the phone I freaked out. I was too terrified and adamantly declined. The phone isn’t my ally at the best of times. I’m the kind of person who accidentally says “Kind Regards” at the end of an answer machine message then calls again to apologise for being an arse. But things changed. The decision to speak on the phone needed to be mine. After some days of consideration and no pressure from Mr Fumble we finally spoke. Hearing his voice gave me a smile that rose from my stomach up, eclipsing my entire body with a glow that had no chance of leaving. It was everything I’d been scared of hoping for. Within a couple of hours I was as happy as a teenage boy at a porn star convention.

A meeting after that was inevitable. In his typical closed way, he dropped some hints and in my excitement I welcomed them with open arms.

The day of our meeting started as a normal day for me until I got a text asking if I was still free because he could be there in two and a half hours.

Me: Yeah, sure. That would be great. See you soon.

AAAGGGGHHHH!!!!

I did the usual; shower, shave, moisturise, try on about forty different outfits, perfect make-up, sweat all the make-up off with stress and then attempt to apply it again. I was so nervous I thought I might vomit before he arrived. A massive ball of stress that resided in my intestines was growing at alarming rate. God forbid I’d have to speak to him!

The moment the doorbell rang I swept open the door and saw the coolest, dark haired epitome of sexiness standing in front of me.

Excitement exploded.

I was disarmed too. A date with Mr Fumble was something I should have prepared myself for mentally as well as physically.

kissing heartbreakAfter getting this far into the post you may have an image of me in your head. There may be some pre-conceptions about my personality and my behaviour. I shall leave you to them, I’m not keen to find them out. But my date with Mr Fumble will remain between me and him and the couple of people we may have told since.

All I shall let you know is that Mr Fumble arrived at midday on one day and left at midday the next. Over the course of that 24hour period, we had coffee, chatted, laughed, went for a walk, had dinner, chatted some more and spent the rest of the time…fumbling.

For those twenty-four hours, I was beaming with joy. I felt like I was at the start of something special.

But twenty minutes before he left I watched his fences go up. The Mr Fumble I’d spent the last day with disappeared and was replaced with a closed off, unrecognisable man. Walking out my house he politely said goodbye and promised to text when he got home. Just like that he was gone.

You may think I was the most gullible, naive idiot that ever walked the earth. I have thought that often enough myself. You may be certain that the contact was over, while secretly hoping for a happy ending. But H is for Heartbreak after all…

Locking the front door with a shaky hand and a heavy heart I thought I would never hear from him again. Mr Fumble was out of my life and would never be a part of it. I was wrong, to some extent. The messages flooded my phone as soon as he got home. We texted non-stop for the next two days.

Sadly, over the next five months his texts got more sporadic but never stopped until I told him to leave me alone. I was struggling to move on and he clearly didn’t want a relationship. On occasion, for about a year after, I continued to hear from him, until I decided to block him for a couple of weeks. I have no idea why he stayed in contact. It could have been a keenness for more fumbling or because he was bored. Whatever the true reason I never learnt it because I wouldn’t agree to see him again.

However much he annoyed and upset me, I will always have a fondness for Mr Fumble. In his defence, he never promised anything he wasn’t willing to give. Everything he gave me was incredible and life-changing. If I could do our initial texting, call and meet-up again, and I was still single, would I? Possibly. Being full of regrets is a fruitless experience.

I shed a lot of tears over him when he started distancing himself and then several more over the next months. Maybe my instincts and lack of experience did betray me. I guess only Mr Fumble knows the answer to that.

There has been heartbreak and many tears shed since him.

Friends wondered in the past, “How can you stay hopeful that you’ll find what you’re looking for?”

After my heart was broken my hope seemed to die for a while too. I have been left wondering what’s the point, how can I find what I’m looking for? Is there something wrong with me? After heartbreak, I used to stop dating and reassess because I don’t do rebound dating. But that’s a personal choice I made. I was told once, by a colleague, that rebound is the best time to date. I’ve seen people get hurt when we date on the rebound. It may give us validation and help us move on in the short term but it usually comes back to bite us on the arse.

After Mr Fumble made it clear that a relationship wasn’t going to happen I went straight back online. As a result I made some reckless and nearly dangerous decisions.

People jump back on to the apps and sites for many reasons, sometimes because it’s a simple need to get their end away. Sexual need is difficult to ignore especially when you’ve been getting it regularly. But if you just want to get your end away then be honest about it. Don’t deceive people into thinking you’re looking for more.

When I started writing this a while back my hope took a beating. It was inevitable after recalling and revisiting these experiences but then I met up with some friends who had met through online dating. They told me of their experience. There were familiar situations, for example one didn’t reply initially and distance caused a couple of issues. But a relationship slowly developed over chatting, meeting up and dating.

So, when I asked them, “How can I still have hope when I have heartbreak inside me?” I was told that you have to prepare for heartbreak when you date but then sometimes you get lucky and it does work out. At this point, they gave each other such a grin of nauseating joy that had I not been sticking my fingers down my throat I would have got caught up in it. It was a smile that only genuine, caring love lives in and was the display of encouragement I needed.

Fight for meSo, heartbreak does happen and it can temporarily destroy us. But H is for Hope too because online dating does work out, people keep trying and they enjoy themselves in the process. And one positive from Mr Fumble is that it gave me my love of men in military uniform, which helped inspire my erotic romance short story Fight For Me, which is available to download.

I’d love to know how you’ve dealt with heartbreak in dating. You can share your thoughts or experiences by commenting below or visiting my Facebook page.

G is for Ghosting, part 2

My name is Rebecca and I was ghosted… In my last post, I shared the many reasons why people ghost others and explained that I had ghosted men myself. It was usually when I was too scared to admit to the guy that there wasn’t any chemistry between us.

ghostedMy own experience of being on the receiving end was a shock for me in my newbie naivety. John Hoe was the first guy I chatted to online that I had chemistry with. An older guy, attractive and funny. The sort of man who you might find working in your office. Think about any of the offices you’ve worked in. Was there that guy that the ladies tended to swoon over? Did he charm all who met him, flirt easily and have a smile that made you want to run your lips across it before tasting his mouth and seeing if he kissed as well as you imagined?

That was John Hoe and I thought I was the luckiest lady because I was the focus of his attention. I was incredibly inexperienced when it came to being chatted up. I foolishly thought constant texting always meant an attraction that would lead to more.

After what was in fact a pretty short time conversing online, we swapped numbers and texted constantly. For a week, it was several hours during the day and then non-stop after work before finally dropping off to sleep and starting again the next day. The laughter from both of us seemed non-stop but it wasn’t just surface chat, we shared times we’d been hurt, our hopes and dreams and the events of our day. The photos messaged were relatively chaste, after all I was a newbie, but still flirty.

On one of the days spent messaging I broached the question of “Would you like to go on a date some time?” My heart was in my mouth. I trembled as I pressed send. Then I waited. Would he respond, would I ever hear from him again? I had no idea. I sat at my desk, anxious for a reply, keeping an eye on my phone, desperately waiting for that tell-tale vibration that would signal a new message.

People who tried to enter my office were forced to depart. I didn’t have time for any of their shit. I was asking a guy out, something I’d never done before!

And then the reply came.

ghosting“Of course I would.”

I shimmied around my office, nearly twerking with excitement. The smile that was plastered across my face refused to leave its new home for days. In hindsight, I was desperately naive but I’d never asked a guy out and I truly believed that things might finally be going my way.

The texts that brought smiles to my face continued to go back and forth but there was no mention of the date again, no agreed time, the location wasn’t even a topic hinted at. But the chemistry between us, even via text, was still undeniable.

After six days of solid texting his messages suddenly reduced significantly. We communicated via Whatsapp, sometimes a useful message app. Although, sadly, it’s also a useful tool for men who want to send me pictures of their rock-hard tools.

John Hoe went from a message virtually every minute to maybe a couple of messages over the course of a day.

What had I done wrong? He was the cool, older, experienced guy, it must have been me who made the mistake, surely? But now, with the benefit of hindsight and experience I don’t believe I did anything wrong, he just moved on. He’d ghosted me. I continued to wait to hear from him. I didn’t want to put pressure on him and what I still, again naively, thought might grow into more. But the messages dried up and over the next couple of days I didn’t hear from him at all.

So, what did I do?

I’m cringing as I write this. I sent him a message that I wish I hadn’t. Maybe I should have been dignified and walked away but I was hurt and confused. I couldn’t understand how what had been great chemistry could suddenly become, at best, something insignificant and, at worst, rejection.

I don’t remember exactly what I sent but it could have been worse. Can you tell that I’m trying to justify myself? It was something like…

Me: I’ve really enjoyed chatting to you and I was surprised I hadn’t heard from you recently. I hope you’re okay.

Suddenly I was back to anxiously waiting in my office, wondering if I would get a reply, waiting for that phone vibration. I hoped against hope that he’d tell me that he’d lost his phone or had been really busy with work. But that didn’t happen.

No reply materialised and when I went back on Whatsapp I could see that he’d read my message and then, from what I’ve learnt about the app since, I’m pretty sure he blocked me. I was horrified and left questioning everything I’d said and done. Personally speaking, I don’t block people unless something significant has happened. In fact, I’ve only ever blocked three people, and that was for substantial reasons.

I wouldn’t have texted again, the lack of reply to my last message was enough. But he didn’t know me really, even after all our chatting.

So, what went wrong? I confess I got my friends to check the messages I’d sent, just to make sure they weren’t freaky weird. According to my experienced, knowledgeable friends they weren’t odd at all.

Maybe he just moved on to someone new, maybe I wasn’t what he wanted? I’ll leave you to mull it over because I’ve done enough of that in the past. I’ve seen John Hoe on a couple of sites since but I’ve never been tempted to speak to him again.

I reiterate a previous point, you never know what someone else is thinking.

But ghosting, especially after prolonged contact or dating, is unnecessary. Maybe in those situations tell the potential there’s no chemistry, you’ve met someone else or things have changed. Be as honest as you’re willing to be but still polite and if possible avoid the ghosting tactic because it hurts. You’d hate for it to be done to you.

On the flip side, you shouldn’t let someone who has ghosted you get you down or ruin your enthusiasm for dating; they were probably an arsehole anyway. It’s their problem not yours. Thankfully, I got “back on the horse”, moved onwards and upwards and eventually met other guys including Mr Fumble and Stallion Stan.

You can find out more about them in my blog post on H is for Heartbreak.

G is for…Ghosting

What is ghosting? Have you done it?

Have you seen this word before in the context of dating?

ghostingIf you’ve tried online dating in the last couple of years, even for just a short time, then you’ve probably been victim to it. The act of ghosting has been around for years. But with the rise in popularity of dating apps, messaging strangers before meeting them and the increasing numbers of those who are doing it, including married people, ghosting is all around us.

In August 2015, The Guardian reported on a survey completed by GlobalWeb Index. The survey found that globally approximately a third of dating app Tinder’s users are married. Tinder hit back in a Twitter frenzy with their own data which said that only 1.7% of Tinder users are married. Whichever piece of data, survey or opinion you believe it doesn’t stop the fact that there are all sorts of mysteries to be found via online dating. But how does this relate to ghosting and what is it?

Ghosting is when you’re chatting to someone, maybe even going on dates with them, and suddenly all communication stops. Messages are no longer replied to, future dates and any form of politeness or chemistry is quickly forgotten. The person being ghosted may initially wonder if the other person is okay but after a while the hint is obvious. Something you thought was going well has ended in a cowardly, maybe even cruel, way and you have no idea why. I’ve seen for myself that ghosting can hurt.

Ghosting may have been orchestrated for many reasons:

  • they’ve found someone else they connect with better
  • you said something they didn’t like and instead of explaining they’ve moved on
  • they’ve decided they didn’t have much of a connection with you
  • you were a time filler and they’ve found a different way to spend their time
  • you met and they didn’t fancy you but they don’t know how to tell you
  • they expected you to be more physical or less physical than you were
  • you did something really weird
  • they’ve found someone physically closer
  • an unwanted dick pic was sent
  • they’ve found someone easier
  • they were married all along and they had the online fun they were after
  • the mother ship returned and beamed them home to another planet!

ghostingThe possibilities are endless and that is part of the problem. You’re left wondering but never knowing what has changed. You could be considering the worse, questioning yourself and everything you said and did. Ghosting can consume us and leave us with more baggage than we started with and inevitably our fences go up.

If you started online dating because you were looking for some form of validation or you were desperately looking for a way to raise your confidence, then you need to be prepared for the possibility of getting hurt. A certain level of confidence is required to get through the arseholes that litter the corridors of your dating experiences.

Okay, it’s confession time readers. Feel free to judge me, I’ll take it like a reveller wearing Pikachu fancy dress in town on a Saturday night.

I have ghosted guys.

I could throw myself on your mercy but I don’t have any reasons or even an excuse. All I can say is that I too have had my gutless moments. My lack of experience didn’t help but, ultimately, I can be a massive chicken. I should have treated guys better and now I can say that I’ll never ghost a guy that I’ve been on a date with or given my mobile number to. I also no longer give my number out to just anyone.

I’ll tell you about my own experience of being ghosted in my next post. In the meantime, if you’d like to share your thoughts or experiences then please comment below or visit my Facebook page or Twitter page.

Fight For Me: a short tale of erotic romance

New Book alert! Fight for meAlthough you can find Fight For Me in the Crave For Me anthology I decided it was time it got its own release. I remember sitting down to plan this book out on a cold November night in a quiet cafe. It wasn’t the obvious setting for an erotic romance brimming with love but that didn’t stop me. When I was younger I was too shy to talk to the guys I had crushes on. During my teens and 20s there were several crushes that made my palms sweaty and my face beetroot red. Unfortunately it never went further. The inability to flirt, even chat to guys I had crushes on inspired a lot of my writing, including this story.

But that wasn’t the only inspiration.

You’ll see from my A-Z of Online Dating blog posts that I’ve had some good and bad dates. One of the good ones, that will feature under H is for Heartbreak was Mr Fumble. He was a squaddie that broke my heart but he also made a massive impact on many things, including my imagination. That was where the inspiration started.

But it needed somewhere else to go. I have always had a love of stories where females fall in love with their brother’s best friends. But I can’t explain why. I had lukewarm feelings for several of my brother’s friends when I was younger but none of them stood out. None of them captured my lust, brought me joy or made me laugh like the male protagonist in Fight For Me.

Fight for me Crave

Joe is a hot and cocky yet endearing and humorous soldier who our female protagonist Jules has always fancied. Although she has successfully avoided him for years, when she realised he could never be the man she wanted, she has continued to love him. The rumour among her family was that he couldn’t get leave from the army for Jules’ brother’s wedding. But would he really miss his best friend’s wedding or the chance to see Jules again?

Let Joe be your new book boyfriend. I’m certain I wouldn’t be able to resist him.

You can buy the book by clicking on this link or any of the links on my books page.

Please enjoy the excerpt below and tell me, have you ever had a kiss like this?

Excerpt

“I see you have no wedding ring. Are you here alone? Always alone aren’t you, Pencil? It seems to suit you well. No friends, no husband, no nothing.” Freya and Annabella giggled next to her, the monster was laughing in her face once more.

Say anything, get the fuckers back with your words. She opened her mouth but all that came out was a barely audible squeak. They cackled in response.

Hands suddenly found her hips, gripping tightly, their strength easily turning her shocked body around, before soft lips brushed against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed in the pleasure of the moment. It was a graceful, gentle kiss at first but quickly escalated into a needy, passionate embrace. Jules had no idea who the man demanding such heat was and she was reluctant to open her eyes and find out. This was a kiss of longing and she was drowning in it.

The stranger pressed his strong firm body against her swollen breasts. For a second she questioned what she was doing, but any reluctance was crushed as she willingly opened her mouth to his sensuous and insistent tongue easing her lips apart. Hands slid hungrily to the flesh of her bottom, squeezing it expertly through her jeans, pulling her closer. There was an unexpected opulence to his touch and she felt a hardness pressing into her that raised her curiosity as quickly as it increased the ache between her legs.

The rumble of the music travelled through each nerve of her body but her senses continued to stay keenly focused on him. His minty breath fought with the mixture of spirits still on her tongue. The smell of musky deodorant mingled with sweat and something almost woody, which caused her nose to tingle as she felt the material of his clothes against her skin. Rough material rubbed against her lower back where her top had lifted slightly, heightening her arousal and making her force him closer. Delicate fingertips found the bristles of hair on his neck and tentatively she stroked them. Who is this guy? That hardness is all mine.

Air was fading from her lungs but she didn’t want to stop. She was unrestrained, controlled by a force beyond reason, as she rubbed mercilessly against his firm straining crotch. The alcohol that had filled her bloodstream brought flushed and heady sensations but still she embraced the arousal that heated her body throughout. A rough tongue massaged hers with expert skill as his fingertips toyed with the hem of her rising top.

I’m almost out of air, I need to breathe. Hands climbed quickly, sensing a rearing of her head, pressing a little harder against her neck, as if he wasn’t ready to let her go. I want this kiss more than I want to breathe but I need to know who is bringing me to these heights. It could be anyone. What if someone is playing a joke on me?

Jules’ green eyes fluttered open and took a moment to focus, searching through the slight fuzz of alcohol that still clouded her pupils. Oh my God, it can’t be. As if her memories had synchronised to stab her in her heart while playing cruel games with her senses, she realised she was looking at the one man she thought she’d successfully avoided for life.

Joe was home and she was in his arms. Shit!

“Alright, Jules? Just follow my lead,” he whispered in her ear, before giving her one of the signature cheeky grins she’d missed.

“Sweetheart, I’ve found you. Sorry I was late, you know what the army is like. There are always people who need rescuing.”

Words failed her. What the hell is he doing here? And what the fuck was with that kiss?

F is for Fences, Barriers and Baggage (continued)

f is for fencesIn my last post, F is for Fences, I shared my own story of coming up against someone with baggage whose way of dealing with it clashed with my own feelings and experiences.

Everyone has varying sizes of baggage and different heights to the fences they have built, as a result. In my online dating history, I’ve come into contact with former alcoholics, divorcees, single dads who have their kids 24/7, those in their thirties still living with their parents, men with body dysmorphia, guys who’ve been cheated on, guys who’ve done the cheating, those who only want to talk about their exes, people with low self-confidence, men in love with their best friends, and guys who adore Star Wars more than their grandmas.

What is baggage to one person isn’t to another and one day we’ll meet someone who’s more important and bigger than our baggage. A potential who over time will help our fences come down by knocking each panel of wood out, and hopefully we’ll do the same for them. It might be something big or an issue that takes a long time to dissipate, but for us they’ll be worth it. And it’s our prerogative what is worth it. Other people’s judgements aren’t relevant.

F is for Fences

I’ll finish the letter F with a story about my experience with Boris Pecker. I met him on one of the more reputable dating sites. Eventually, after a couple of weeks of messaging, we went on a date. Boris met me at the train station, he seemed a bit tipsy but was understandably nervous. Sadly, by the end of the date he was as drunk as nun on communion wine. But the date was still enjoyable…mostly.

To me the expected chemistry had been lacking but I know, from experience, that people get nervous and sometimes things take time. “I’m torn about a second date but I think it’s worth a go to see if I do like him. Sometimes second dates are needed.” Before I got as far as texting, I got a message from Mr Pecker.

Boris: In the interests of being honest I’m going to say that your height threw me a little and was a bit odd for me. But I had a nice time anyway.

FencesWhat I haven’t told you is that I’m on the short side but I’ve always been very honest about this on my profile. Boris was also one of life’s diminutive people. In fact, the first thing I mentioned when I told my friends about the date was that he was the shortest man I’d ever met. Maybe Boris’ height was his own baggage and therefore he couldn’t look beyond other people’s height. Maybe Mr Pecker was looking for the perfect specimen of a woman. I’m more than just a collection of feet and inches and so when Boris mentioned a second date I politely declined.

I want someone to enjoy spending time with me, not tolerate it in spite of my height. I want someone to see me as a whole package.

Be Mindful of Your Own Baggage

If you do have baggage about particular things, then you can save yourself some trouble and read the potential’s profile. If you don’t want kids then you don’t have to date a potential that does. And if you can’t do long distance relationships then make it easy and set your filter to local. In the long term, you’ll save yourself and someone else a lot of unnecessary heartache.

In the next post, I’ll cover Ghosting and the hurt it can cause – often building those fences even higher! Meanwhile, if you’ve missed any of the previous posts from my A-Z of Online Dating, click on “Select Category” in the right-hand column and select “A-Z Online Dating.” If you’d like to share some of your own dating experiences, add a comment below or visit my Facebook page.

F is for Fences…

fencesEveryone comes to dating and relationships with baggage. As I get older I find that people seem to be carrying a massive suitcase of pain and past hurts and experiences. Baggage is rarely just one bag, there’s usually lots of little carry-on bags in tow too. But if we all have our own baggage why does it feel like a struggle at times to find someone with tolerance for our problems?

Baggage can create fences. Fences stop us getting close to someone. It might be that the potential we want to date has their fences up because they’re scared of what might happen. Maybe we remind them of someone who has hurt them in the past or they have issues they’re not ready to deal with.

Fences… Barriers and Baggage

It’s real life story time. So, settle back and get ready to hear about my dates with Dry Humphrey. I should probably warn you that this story doesn’t have a happy ending, which is the sort of ending he was hoping for.

Dry Humphrey was a nice guy, easy to chat to and early-on it became apparent that we saw the world in a similar way. His goal was a relationship that might one day lead to marriage and kids and not just one night of hot, steamy passion. I was looking for the same. I still didn’t want him to get too carried away, after all we had to meet first. What if we came face to face and realised the attraction was as dry as a lesbian at a sausage buffet?

There was no denying that Humphrey was excited and reining him in was an impossible job. Within forty-eight hours of us chatting, he’d cancelled a date with another woman because he already liked me too much. Talk about pressure to bring the goods when we did meet! We decided that until we met we wouldn’t chat to anyone else online. It seemed a bit of a reckless strategy and not something I’d done so early with someone before but I went with it.

My Baggage

My own baggage contains some issues that have developed since using these sites. I can find it difficult to trust when I know I’m not the only one residing in the guy’s little black book. But that’s the nature of online dating and I’ve got used to it. Still, for some reason I trusted Humphrey and it was a refreshing experience.

The day of the first date came. I drove to the pub in my “first date dress” that hints at my figure but doesn’t lay it out on a silver platter. Excitement clenched at my stomach but I desperately tried to push it away. Would this be my “last first date”, or would I be bolting from the pub?

fencesThe biggest surprise of the date was that he brought his dog with him. It was a real dog, not a metaphor for his dick. An unlikely sidekick for a date but it gave a semi-relaxed state to the evening. The date went okay. It wasn’t a bolt of lightning but we chatted for a couple of hours, kissed goodbye and overall I had a slight glimmer from the experience. Feelings grow and just because there isn’t instant inner glow doesn’t mean we shouldn’t consider a second date. So along came the second date. This one was at his house. I’d prepared dinner and together we watched shit television. Again, it was mostly a good evening. We even fooled around a bit.

Getting Past the Fences

Reader, I doubt you won’t be surprised to know that I’m not chaste but I didn’t want to rush into the physical side. I didn’t just want a quick shag against the wall. Based on my own dating experiences, I have some fences up and I didn’t want to regret moving too fast. The kissing and other things were pleasant, but there were also long periods of time where his hands were constantly on the move, trying to find ways of reducing my clothing, trying to push me further than I was willing to go. But he was still generally patient when I said stop. Dry Humphrey was a horndog and eventually gave up when he realised his cock wasn’t welcome in the location he wanted. And so, we chilled out for a bit, continued to get to know each other and made plans for our next date.

Another date at his house began. I guess the signs were obvious that this evening he was aiming for the same desperately needed conclusion. I had a foolproof plan. I was wearing jeans that were like Fort Knox. There was no way he could get them off. I was wrong! You can’t thwart a man with a boner. Male soldiers should go to war like that. Countries would be conquered in mere seconds so that the throbbing squaddies could rush home to their willing partners.

Even the Dog was Unimpressed

The date made me feel like an unyielding piece of meat. I did everything to distract his attention because he only had one aim, and foreplay wasn’t it. Even his dog was unimpressed by his seduction technique. That’s right, his dog was in the room too. Thankfully, I left his house with my dignity and knickers still intact.

Things changed after that. The idea of getting to know each other better became superfluous. He even texted to cancel our date to a restaurant because he was too tired to go out and the next time he saw me at his house he wanted to “go all the way.” My first response was, “What thirty-year-old says that?” My second was, “When did I just become a hole for him to fill?” It appeared my personality and anything else that made me a human were unnecessary. I was a glory hole now.

Strangely, I wasn’t motivated to contact Dry Humphrey so when he didn’t reply to my last text I was relieved. A week later, I got a text. It turned out Humphrey had been in a couple of sexually incompatible relationships and he didn’t want to end up in another. In my aim of getting to know him better, I’d shared information from my own past. Ultimately, he wanted to check we could have “penetrative sex” before we got into anything further so that he could “gauge the scale of the problem”. From what I could see, Humphrey’s baggage ruled his cock and as a result impassable fences were erected.

Fences Built Higher

baggageThings between us ended there and sadly my fences have got a little bit higher, as a result. In another place at another time, when our fences hadn’t been built with others in mind, maybe it would have worked between us. But personally I wanted to see we were compatible in lots of different ways, including sexually. I’ve heard the phrase “try before you buy” but in that experience it felt more like shoplifting. Potentials, just so you’re aware, sex is more than just shoving the penis in for quick satisfaction.

This is a big topic so I’ll talk some more about baggage and the fences we all build in the next blog post. If you’ve missed any of the previous posts from my A-Z of Online Dating, click on “Select Category” in the right-hand column and select “A-Z Online Dating.”

E is for Everyone Knows Someone Who…

Any time I’ve spoken with groups of mainly female friends I hear the same stories. At first there might be some encouraging words or curiosity about the guy I’m chatting to. But eventually I hear: “I know a couple who met online and now they’re married.”

Online dating works…

online dating worksPeople do fall in love with potentials they meet online and some even get married. It’s the selling point for many online dating sites. For example, each say something along the lines of:

  • they have more marriages than the other sites
  • they have more enduring marriages
  • they have more meaningful matches
  • they have more relationships than other sites.

Even the sites that seem to be based around hook-ups appear to have had people meet and marry. I read last year about an Olympic gold medallist meeting her soldier husband on a site that is renowned for its casual dates.

You Have to Take the Bad…

As I said, everyone knows someone and these happy marital endings do exist. But they’re not the only experiences people have. I suspect that for every marriage there is also someone who has seen a dick pic they didn’t want, chatted to a shithead or psycho, been on a date with a weirdo or had a second date they sincerely regret. However, these experiences aren’t only reserved for online dating. There are freaks and weirdos all over the place.

I recall a guy from university at our summer ball. I was sitting in the corner of the hall, looking bedraggled and exhausted, and he obviously thought that I would be easy pickings. The dude had misread the situation and so, when he invited me outside for some “fresh air,” he got a knock back he probably wasn’t expecting. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t drunk but completely sober and suffering with a throat infection. I can safely say that no amount of alcohol would have been enough for me to spend time alone with him. Not only did he have a worrying resemblance to a rat both in looks and personality, he had a reputation for being a complete prick and doing whatever it took to get laid. The rat is probably torturing women via online dating sites as we speak.

…With the Good

But, in case you were looking for a bit more hope from this chapter, then I can tell you that I know of at least eight couples who met through online dating, all long term and most of them now married. The sites they met on were as varied as their personalities and they were well suited to each other.

One couple’s story brings a smile to my face rather than a harassed eye roll. We’ll call them Summer Breeze and Hugh Lovin. Summer was a slightly older lady who had been cajoled by friends into trying online dating. Her husband had died when she was younger and although dating, especially online, terrified her she eventually built up the courage to log on. The massive glass of wine she downed beforehand helped too.

Hugh, a guy who’d split up with his wife years earlier, was the first person that Summer spoke to. Almost immediately they were enamoured with each other. They had loads in common, even their “baggage”, and what started as two people casually chatting on opposite sides of the country quickly became emails back and forth sent throughout the evening. The next step was a phone call, which quickly turned into three-hour phone calls every night. This was leading up to the inevitable first meeting. After all, they couldn’t spend all their evenings chatting, they had to go into the big wide world sometimes too. Did they dare meet or were they going to run scared at the possibility of finally seeing each other face to face?

They did meet.

The day of the meeting finally arrived. Summer stood nervously on the train station platform, fingers trembling and her heart beating erratically. Watching Hugh stumble off the train she realised two things; her first date in an age, the man she’d been chatting to and silently pinned her hopes on, was nervous and he was tipsy. Would she walk away despondent that he’d arrived a little sozzled before lunchtime and potentially ruined their first meeting? No, it gave her the perfect opportunity to suggest heading to the nearest pub so she could relax her own quivering nerves.

everyone knowsFrom that day, they knew they’d found someone special. But what next? One of them had to move and the deliberation was difficult and tearful. But, one of them did, and two years later they had a beautiful wedding in the highlands of Scotland. I was lucky enough to meet Summer, hear her story and share my own online dating woes. She’s a fantastic listener. I can say for sure that there’s hope out there. I’ve met Summer and I’ve seen it exists. There are many more who have stories like hers.

Sometimes the crap may just be worth it.

Of course, not everyone is looking for marriage, some just want a bit of fun. I can think of lots of people who’ve found that via online dating. It’s out there and easy to find.

If, however, you’re interested in the long term then remember that’s your focus when you’re getting giddy from the interest you’re receiving. It’s easy to become like Slick Dick and believe your own hype. If you’re looking for the long term then your aim is to find the right potential for you. This may not mean the one who is best at charming you, flirting with you or only talks about sex.

A potential with the body of Taylor Swift or Chris Hemsworth is great but if there’s nothing more behind the picture or they never seem to want to go on a date then what’s the point? If you’re looking for someone you can share the best and worst of yourself with then the guy with the biggest cock or the woman with the banging boobs may seem like an exciting prospect. But they’re only worth your time and effort if they have a personality you like too.

Don’t Give Up

And the next time someone drones on about that wedding of two people who met online, take a moment to wonder to yourself, like I do: “Would I marry them?” It’s probably a “no.” So, let’s not waste time wishing you were in their shoes; instead hope the right person for you is just around the corner and that it’s someone you can be your real self with.

Before the Slaughter, Sci-Fi Erotic Romance

I can’t convey how excited I am about Before the Slaughter, a sci-fi short story, which isn’t the greatest thing for a writer to say but I don’t care, I said it anyway. I remember trying to come up with a concept for this story, I wanted to try my hand at the sci-fi aspect and for a while I toyed with different ideas.

Sci-fi erotic romanceInitially I considered what online dating might look like in the future; matched on your genes and virtual reality dates. I thought of a story I could write based around those ideas but it wasn’t sci-fi enough for me. If I was going to do it I was going to embrace it. But, I like a frame of reference too. While my imagination struggles to rein itself in at times it also needs something it knows to cling on to. I’m the woman who sees two people having dinner and creates a world of dark espionage for them, I’m the person who notices that my next door neighbour hasn’t been about recently and wonders if he’s joined a cult!

But what made me go with the idea that this story is based on?

Before the Slaughter was eight miles of walking in the making. When I can’t decide what to write about or when I need to put detail to an idea plan I walk. I can’t say I saw a green leaf and thought about bodies that sparkle when they climax. There wasn’t a man being attacked by a dog leading me to think about the variety of aliens that might exist on a planet of prisoners, many who are waiting on death row. I can’t even say I saw two people making out and thought about a woman trained to service the needs of death row prisoners the night before they go to slaughter. But somehow on my walk it came to me. Thank goodness it did because my feet were getting tired!

before the slaughterSummary

Before the Slaughter is based around a Heterate, a being trained in giving death row prisoners one final night of pleasure before they go to slaughter. Eshmay has never known sex and seduction to be more than just a job, that is until she meets Timosh. Will she risk her life to be with him or will she send the being she loves off to slaughter after a final night together?

You can buy the book by clicking on this link: Before the Slaughter

But if you want to know more here is a teasing excerpt, I hope you enjoy.

Excerpt

Their last date together had started with the usual catch-up of their lives. Timosh didn’t glow with blue when she mentioned clients she’d serviced since their last date. They tried not to talk about it too much. Sometimes she’d offer him stories of her training with Klima; it turned him on, making him shimmer and leading to questions and illicit kisses. But the stories of clients brought a pale yellow tinge to his skin.

“Jealousy,” he’d explained, while his mouth satisfied her, kissing down her naked body. “Do your clients kiss you here?”

Lips had caressed her nipples, his tongue slowly circling her pink nub.

“Yes,” she moaned as his tongue swirled around her sensitive puckered skin before biting down. A whimper was freed from her full lips making his whole body shimmer with the remarkable green colour, like diamonds sparkling in a pool of green sea.

“And do they turn you on like I do?” The yellow was fading but her attention was focused on the journey of his hand. There was nothing tentative about his movements as he slid it beneath her silk knickers.

“No one turns me on like you do.” No lies poured from her mouth, only whimpers of pleasure set free when he dragged his finger from her clit to her lips, covering it with her wetness. It was quiet in the Pleasure Room, in the reality he’d chosen; a luxurious king sized bed that sat on its own island of sand, turquoise sea surrounding them. It was based on one of the private honeymoon islands on Planet Delphi. This one was created for them.

Again and again she murmured his name. Tasting the swell of her breasts he pushed one then two fingers inside her, curving them and stroking her g-spot. Men like Eli knew how to make a woman come but with Timosh there was truth and yearning to his movements. The way Timosh touched her and turned her on made her feel pure, she knew it was only him that could satisfy her fully.

I’m meant to be serving him.