sex: encounter #7 – Alex

Just in case I got stood up again (Believe it or not I was feeling slightly paranoid) I wore my Friday dress-down, casual outfit (casual clothes and casual sex) ie jeans, t-shirt and my cute faded pink Birkenstocks (If I drag my feet a little the sound reminds me being in Thailand). I met Alex (Lawyer, 34, 5’10”, slim, blue eyes, cheeky smile) at Temple and we walked through Embankment Gardens.

Given the disaster of the previous evening and my lunchtime sushi extravaganza, I was feeling particularly horny and was aching for him push me up against a tree and roughly manhandle me. He didn’t (life would be so much easier for women if men were telepathic).

By the time we reached Villiers Street I was ready to take matters into my own hands, literally. I held his hand, pulled him towards me and  gave him my best come-to-bed eyelash fluttering. He kissed me deeply and I helped my self to a lengthy grope of his pleasantly hard cock. We’d planned on walking up into Chinatown but that was clearly off the cards now so we picked up a taxi heading back east on The Strand.

disappointment: unlucky number seven

It had to happen I guess, I was stood up!

I wore my favourite red dress (A Karen Millen number I’ve had for years) and a pair of very sexy shoes (Jil Sander) and (trying not be conceited here) I looked good, good to go, you might say. The mechanics of the said standing-up? A phone call? No. A text message even? No. Just a no show, a no-answering three (count them) calls. I gave up after an hour, had a wander around the sex shops (So much seedier than I remember from drunken girly-student nights) and trundled home.

On the bright side I had some time to do some work on the blog and catch up with my Michel Thomas French lessons (half-baked attempt to learn a language number 12).

I felt a little nostalgic hanging the dress back in the wardrobe.

Hope I have better luck tonight.

sex: encounter #6 – ‘J’

‘J’ is the second guy the week who wanted to be referred to by initial only. Is this the norm in the casual dating world? Anyway…

J persuaded me to meet him in Clapham, I lived in Old Town for a couple of years and so was curious to see how much had changed. After a short hop on the tube down from Old Street I was walking into my old local The Sun to meet encounter #. He was ordering a drink  at the bar when I arrived, jeans/trainers and a nice shirt from Reiss, quite tall, maybe 6’3″ and with a pleasant languid confidence. I gave his pert arse a little tap and he turned around with a big beaming smile.

We talked about a whole bunch of things (no sex talk, no flirting really) and before I knew it it was half-ten. I was beginning to get some cravings and suggested we pick up a taxi.

sex: encounter #5 – Tony

I met Tony (32, mixed-race, 5’10-ish, slim, Hoxton creative type) at 9:30 in a bar around the corner from where I work. It had been a long day and was I frustrated, grumpy and horny (This experiment isn’t making me less horny by the way, I had to fight off the urge to masturbate most of the afternoon).

We took a booth and did the usual la-la-la chat but I wasn’t really listening. While he was telling something about his work I put my hand down my skirt to feel I how wet I was. He didn’t notice and was still babbling away as I drew my wet fingers across his lips. That got his attention. We left our drinks.

sex: encounter #4 – George

So I slept with a plastic surgeon, George the plastic surgeon to be precise.

I’ve never had that thing that some women do about doctors, that swooning blush, week knees and racing pulse. Other girls have the same racy thoughts about firemen, a good friend of mine (clear headed, she’s an accountant) is transfixed whenever she comes across one.

But me, I’m not really sure I have a type.

I met George the plastic surgeon (mid-thirties, tall-ish, dashing-ish, blue eyes) in Vinopolis. We shared a bottle of wine and then wandered down the road (clink street?) to Brindisa for a little tapas and beer, very nice.

My cleavage was driving him crazy over dinner, sometimes I think I feel the wanton desire in a man when he thinks he’s close to ripping my clothes off and getting his hands on me. It’s like a an extra pulse. George was ripe for picking and we definitely had enough chemistry so we walked over to Borough High Street and hailed a cab back to mine.

sex: encounter #3 – ‘a’

I met ‘A’ in a bar around the corner from where I live which was nice as I could walk. It was a lovely balmy evening and we sat outside and shared a bottle of wine. ‘A’ had read my blog and witheld his name in fear of being outed in some way, though I wasn’t really sure of what. He was nervous at first but warmed up after I nibbled his ear a little and rubbed his cock through his jeans.

Back at mine I considered the a repeat of the skirt-hoist trick as it’s worked out pretty well so far but as I was feeling naughty I thought I’d try a different approach. After some kissing and groping and frantic undressing I had him naked, sitting on one of my dining chairs.

I told him to close his eyes. He did.

I taped his hands behind his back with some masking tape, he didn’t object.

sex: encounter #2 – James

Drinks and dinner in Soho with smooth James. Smooth talker, smooth kisser & smooth all over but more of that later.

We met in Bar Italia, very funky – funkier than the places my regular friends visit anyway, a bottle of red in the French House and then Ronnie Scotts, very cool. James is tall, 6’2 ish I guess, dresses well (actually a bit like a med sailor, light trousers, white shirt) and has that broad chest, flat chin thing going on. A first for me, I don’t normally attract the James Bond type.

sex: encounter #1 – Tim

We’d arranged to meet in a bar off Farringdon Road at 20:00. He wandered in, casual shirt, jeans, nice shoes BUT ten minutes late, not a good start. He was older than the photo he’d sent me and kind of average looking up-front and personal but he was charming, funny and giving (he let me grope his cock while we were standing at the bar).

He suggested an Italian he knew in Old Street, I declined – this isn’t a restaurant review blog after all and we headed back to mine.

sweet: first encounter

Hi, welcome to my world. I’m a curvy late-twenties city professional on day one of a year long adventure into the world of casual dating. For the next year I’ll be using Craigslist, Gumtree, Fling and others to pick out a suitable mate for the night.

I’m starting this adventure gently, tonight I’m looking for a good hard cock to suck back at my place. Judging by the avalanche of responses to my first gumtree ad I don’t think I’ll be disappointed (thanks for all the cock-shots boys).