So, the morning after!
Well, since last we spoke, I have:
- Taken my knickers off and flung them with abandon on the floor!
- Spent hours naked in bed!
- Had an orgasm!!
- Lived to tell the tale!!!
But sadly, he wasn’t involved in any of it! He went home at half nine and we did not DTD. My total number of shags in 2024 remains at zero.
And whilst I’m disappointed not to have a better tale to tell, I think it was for the best. And at least he didn’t steal anything. Although i haven’t been downstairs yet so maybe he returned in the night with his swag bag
The spark just wasn’t there! It was such a damp squib really and I think we both knew it by the end. I’m not sure exactly what was missing but something was. The easy chat and laughter that was there before just wasn’t this time. He brought lovely flowers and a nice bottle, and the food seemed to be well received (I loved it if nothing else!). But we sort of ran out of stuff to say and it seemed slightly awkward.
We both sort of ended up yawning and we agreed to call it a night. Poor bloke just left - didn’t even call a taxi! And I went to bed alone. Any thoughts of endless passion were dashed.
He has texted since to say he had fun, and to be fair I did too - he was pleasant company and it was a nice way to spend an evening. But just not an evening of wild shagging.
I did sleep like a log though!
Shame really. He’d make a good friend, I think. Maybe I should see about that.
Anyway, sorry ladies. I wish I could report back on things like whether he had a tattoo of Mr Tumble on his arse, whether he cried when he came and whether it’s feasible to have sex for eleven straight hours whilst remaining conscious. But I can’t.
It was fun yesterday afternoon getting ready with you though. Thank you x