The Swimmer – Part 3

You know when you cum at exactly the same moment, and it’s all shudders, gasps, no air, but all the air, ears ringing, light headed, muscle twitching, sticky sweaty bliss?

That was my afternoon yesterday. Unf. Yes, Yes, Yes.


The Swimmer – Part two

The Swimmer and I have spent the last few days planning an afternoon rendezvous, basically an excuse for us both to skip the gym in favour of a workout that would be much more fun. I’ve been sending him pictures every day, as it’s a real turn on to think of him working… hard.

We arranged for him to cover on Wednesday afternoon, I donned a matching set and stockings and waited for the buzzer.

It was one of the nicest, inhibition free afternoons. Windows open, sunlight streaming through. Oh so sweaty. I feel very natural with him. We are fucking one moment, then laughing hysterically, discussing life plans, then it’s sensual, followed by more laughter. He is everything I need in a friend with benefits.

We spent a few hours rolling around, talking about what we would like to do together. Our list –

  • Take E and spend a weekend in bed.
  • Eat ice cream in our pants.
  • Go to a swingers club – Kink or straight.

I have put him firmly in my fun box. Let’s face it, at 44 if a man hasn’t settled down, jump aboard the fun bus.

He is just what I need at the moment, being honest I have fallen for someone else. Someone I have yet to write about, but I will.

The Farmer

Oh what a cutie, we met on Tinder, conversation flowed, he made me giggle, I really wanted to like him in person.He lives 1.5 hours out of Edinburgh, on a beautiful farm.

After a week or so of messaging back and forth, and the perfect amount, not too much, not too little, just right. We were the Goldilocks of texting. M is 5ft10 (For those of you who know me and my height fetish, this is a huge step) dirty blonde, beardy, glasses, tanned and muscular/athletic.

Date one – I was really pleasantly surprised when M walked in, great face, very friendly. I didn’t have the “unf, hnng I want to jump you” feeling, but, that can develop…

We laughed all through dinner and spoke about everything from childhood to lambing season. It was getting late, and I wanted to head home, but I had a pang of guilt as he had travelled so far. He rejected my offer to pay, took my arm and walked me home. No kiss goodnight, just a cuddle and more giggles.

Date two – M booked us in to one of my favourite French bistro’s in town, it’s cheap, dark, the food is amazing, the toilets are disgusting. I had been wrestling with the pressure of him doing a 3 hour round trip to come in to Edinburgh, it made me feel like I needed to spend longer with him than I actually wanted to – not a good sign.

The date was fine, food was good, conversation a re-hash of our previous date, peppered with new stories. As cliché as it sounds, we were missing the spark. I felt bad about wanting to leave, we met at 7:30 and it was only 9pm. I had just moved house and still had the keys to my last flat and needed to pick up my post, more specifically a cheque I was expecting. As we walked out, I made my excuses, knowing it would probably be the last time I saw M and kissed him on the cheek.

We text for a few days afterwards, and he invited me out for dinner on the Friday night. I explained I thought he was great, a real gentleman but the distance was tough and I wished him all the best. He was a complete gent in return, he’s the kind of guy I would love to be friends with.

The Yuppie – cheeky fun sticks

The Yuppie and I have encountered each other a few times, we started talking on a fetish site and it went from there. He’s a trauma doctor, well-travelled.

I recently quit my stressful job in the midst of a breakdown/bout of anxiety and depression, so let’s just say I wasn’t in the best frame of mind.

The first attempted date, the Yuppie invited me for coffee. I arrived early, ordered a latte and scrolled through twitter. I finished my latte, the time kept ticking, after 10 minutes and no contact from the Yuppie I assumed he wasn’t coming. Admittedly, I was a ticking timebomb when it came to men, due to my anxiety, dating overload, depression and confusion over my feelings I was on a ‘Who run da world? Girls!’ Type of trip.

After another 3 minutes, I paid for my coffee and left. All the while worrying he would walk in the door and see me paying to leave, like a jumped up, high maintenance lunatic.

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After the above texts, we spoke some more. Both agreeing to disagree. He thought I was unreasonable (in hindsight, I probably was) I thought he was entitled.

I had no real interest in meeting the Yuppie after our failed date, maybe it was embarrassment, more likely I felt ambivalent.

He text me once a week for about 2 months, some I would ignore, others I would reply. To be honest I found it fascinating that he still wanted to meet me. I had been nothing but obnoxious.

Eventually I cracked. He asked me when we could go out?

TGD – Whighams, 7pm this evening. Don’t be late.

I love Whighams, it’s a wine bar with lots of candles and dark nooks to plonk yourself in. He was on time, and was exactly how I imagined him to be. I didn’t fancy him, but we were here now, may as well learn about each other and try to have fun. The conversation flowed, I was prickly, I didn’t mean to be, but we really had got off on the wrong foot. I had planned to have one drink and make my excuses, but he wasn’t going to let that happen.

The Yuppie asked me if I would like to join him for a “cheeky fun stick”? it took me a moment to realise, this was yuppie speak for a cigarette. He also felt the need to tell me repeatedly that he was a “New Town Boy” everything was “Faaabulous”. Those who know me, know I am well spoken. But crikey, this felt pretentious.

I basically had to motion to him to drink up, and said I had to go home and do some work (it was 9pm).

He pinned me there and then to a second date, I looked at my diary on my phone, it was fairly clear, I said Sunday meaning 3 weeks from now… he took it to mean this coming Sunday. Balls. We were going for lunch.

We hugged awkwardly goodbye. Then I started to plot my excuse. I got home and had a text ready and waiting.It’s always the way, the ones you are dying to text you, never do, the ones you’re not so fussed about text straight away. I would like to study this further, it must have something to do with attitude and mind set.

The following day I replied, I quite liked someone else so it wouldn’t be right to see him again – worst excuse ever, I always like someone else! He wished me well. Game over – phew!

The Swimmer – part one

On Saturday night I found myself with tickets to a late show for the Fringe, the friend I had planned to go with was ill and all the other girls were either busy, working, ill or just not feeling it. I pulled out my phone and looked through for previously cancelled dates, I text 3, promising that the first to come back would be the one I take.

TGD – I’m in a predicament, want to help? I have tickets to an amazing show tonight, the friend I was going with is ill 😦 so I thought I’d take this opportunity to give one lucky fella the date of a lifetime 🙂

TS-  Sounds amazing, I have a family dinner but could meet you after if the show isn’t too late?

Perfect, I had planned to meet some friends for gin prior to the show, so this fitted my plans!

I got to the venue, pretty tipsy, ordered a gin for me and a beer for him. He greeted me with a kiss, tanned, tall, muscular – he came across as confident, charismatic and friendly. We laughed from the get go.

The show was great, a mix of comedy at one of Edinburgh’s most Fringe friendly venues.

We grabbed a drink afterwards, chemistry was evident. I was starving so true to myself I told him I needed sourdough toast and marmite with a cup of Earl Grey. He called a cab and we headed back to mine.

I stripped in to an old T-shirt and my knickers and set about making toast, what can I say? I know how to seduce… ha!

I took my tea, toast and him to bed. He has a swimmer’s body, huge thighs, big arms, firm pecs and he’s broad. He was wearing tight boxers that framed him perfectly.

The swimmer delivered, again and again. I love it when you stumble on someone you just have raw sexual chemistry with, like every move, motion and feeling was pre-discussed, in reality, you’re just in the moment, fitting together, you’re in a strangers head, he’s in yours. He’s another sweaty guy, 2 towels and my bed soaked – no steroids this time though! 2016 is my year of the clean sweating sportsman.

He makes the most incredible noises, a real turn on. He whispers exactly what I need to hear in my ear. He looks at my plus size body with lust, his hands feel all of me, my wobbly tummy, my child bearing hips, my full breasts – he get’s it, he’s not frightened of it and nothing is out of bounds. It’s a turn on.

At around 4am, I was ready to slip in to a post orgasmic slumber, The Swimmer said he’d call and I knew he would.

Here’s the catch, I didn’t know it at this moment, the man is 43 (not 37, as my app would have me believe). He has the Olympic rings tattooed on his arm, turns out he competed in the Olympics for his home country. The following morning I googled him and his real age became evident!

TGD – Gosh, 11 is awfully young to be competing in the Olympics!

TS – Child Prodigy!

Here’s the thing, he really reminds me of my ex boyfriend, maybe it’s the accent, or his charismatic, dreamer attitude. Or it could be the multiple orgasms…

The Comic Guy

We had some promising chat back on forth on Happn, so we decided to meet for coffee.

I arrived first and found a quiet table, 5 minutes later he arrived. I hate to come across as shallow, but it was a classic case of ‘nice from far, far from nice’.

He was tall, incredibly shy with a few dentistry issues.

Conversation was hard work, most of which I was doing. We fell in to a few awkward silences, most of which I tried to fill, but also leaving him time and space to do so – it didn’t go well.

An hour felt like an eternity, I had a dinner date planned with the farmer that evening, so I made my excuses and left.

As is always the way under these circumstances, I got home to a text to a second date text…Best to be honest, I threw out the no spark line, but I’d like to be friends. I like to know where I stand at all times, I prefer to be treated this way.

App dating is always a gamble.

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Body appreciation – from the archives

If someone would have told me two years ago that I would be posting pictures of myself on a fetish site, I would have laughed hysterically.
I have been on a huge body appreciation journey over the last few years, I grew tired of looking in the mirror and hating myself from the eyes down, of feeling that that I had to pre warn potential dates that I carried the dreaded plus size tag, despite them seeing my photos. The insecurity of maybe, just maybe, they hadn’t realised. I grew tired of apologising for myself, over compensating and always working harder to be accepted.
The turning point came when I was out to lunch with my best friend, she sees through my bullshit, my jovial, self-depreciating humour. She looked at me, the way only your best friend can, and said “why don’t you see the girl I see?”
It’s pretty accurate to say I broke down, right there at the table. The truth is, I didn’t see that girl, I didn’t know who she was talking about.
Anyway, that question started my body positivity journey which made me realise my body was never the problem, it was me and the way I spoke to myself.
How I got from there to where I am now, I’m still analysing. It’s been hard, I often feel like I’m teetering on the edge ready to fall back in to that cycle, but something always stops me. It’s the voice I have come to know and love, the same voice who used to point out my flaws now whispers my qualities.
It may sound deluded, but at the moment the only person capable of building me up or tearing me down, is me. There is great comfort in that.
I’m still the same woman I was two years ago, the only difference is, I now know how to love her.

“Perhaps, we should love ourselves so fiercely, that when others see us they know exactly how it should be done” – Rudy Francisc