I have vague recollections of turning 10, it felt like I was passing a milestone, ‘double figures, look at you’ my mother said so proudly. I’m not so sure how proud she be of this anniversary, 10 nights, 10 different men. The volume of emails and twitter messages I’ve had is unreal. ‘Are you a journalist, a fantasist? Trying to drive traffic to your blog perhaps? Maybe you’re just a whore.
Maybe I am. Maybe I just like sex.
Harlan, oh Harlan. I may have called him Holden (I was too young when I read Catcher in the Rye) when he had me bent over my kitchen table banging (I can’t think of a more appropriate word) his short fat cock into me and slapping my arse with the timing of a concert pianist.
sex:sushi:sweet - a sex blog 