Men To Do Today

Recent conquests:

• The Yankee - has grappled with me twice, and both times has made an exit far too soon (that's not code for premature ejaculation, I mean he always ups and leaves before the job is complete.)
• The Brazilian - as mentioned in last night's post. I bumped into him randomly in my building, with a friend who knows his friend, and the four of us ended up drinking in my kitchen for a few hours. When they got up to leave I grabbed him in the corridor and pulled him into my room. Blow job only, due to the girlfriend factor; I shouldn't even have done that but I was feeling very antsy that night.
• Cueball - short, bald and rubbish at taking a hint. This one was a mistake - we were having an interesting conversation, during which I got so drunk that I ended up taking him home despite not fancying him in the least. The next morning I faked period pains to get him to leave - fat chance, he just lay there like an oblivious lump of granite. I pretended to be asleep, hoping he'd get bored; I pushed his hands off me, hoping he'd get offended. He just kept grabbing my hand and trying to make me touch his (tiny) penis. Eventually I wasn't so much dropping hints as hitting him over the head with them, and he left. For the next couple of weeks he bombarded me with messages, none of which I replied to, and every time I thought he was exasperated enough to give up (sample: "If you don't want to see me again, just say so.") he'd send another message the next day. Eventually I pulled the not-over-my-ex trick but even now, a couple of months on, he still tries every so often. There's nothing more unattractive in a man than desperation. I should really put him out of his misery by being brutally honest, but I haven't the heart (translation: am a huge coward and can't handle confrontation.)
• Anonymous Nice Guy - this one was a sweetheart. We met in a really loud club when I was trashed (again) and he actually chased me outside when I was dragged off home by my friend. I think he was looking to get my number, but I just brought him on home with me. We had excellent drunken sex, he came, then after a short rest I started to go down on him. Here's where it goes horribly wrong. I was so drunk that I overestimated my deep throating capacity, and the next thing you know, I've puked on his cock. To be fair, it was only a tiny bit, and I hadn't eaten all day so it was only clear liquid, not chunks or anything. But that was it, he was out of there, and who can blame him? Shame, we could've had something there. I'm sure he told me his name at some point, but I'll be damned if I can remember it.
• Mocha Madness - the most beautiful man I have ever slept with. Black, tall, amazing body, plenty of stamina. We met in my local when my friend and I sat down with him and his friends because there were no other seats anywhere (incidentally, the friend I was with, R, is excellent for that - she'll talk to anyone, which is good for me because I'm pretty shy and would never meet anybody new if left to my own devices.) Then we met there again a few nights later and got talking. The third time we bumped into each other, he "walked me home" and that was the start of it. He wanted it to become a relationship, but because I'm such a coward once I sober up, I couldn't go anywhere with him outside my bedroom. I felt like he was way too good for me, and if we saw each other in daylight and sober he'd come to his senses and never go near me again. So, we just fucked every weekend for about a month. He's got a girlfriend now, one who I'm sure is willing to venture into daylight with him. She's a lucky woman. Self sabotage is a terrible thing, and something that's been happening my entire life. Therapy beckons.

Next post I'll give you the details on my more long term relationships. I think I can just about remember what one of those is.