Fellow Flirts,
It’s the second last day of one of the worst years of my life, I’ve finished work and have sat down to write something I should have done a few days ago but I have been in a daze. A cock daze if you will. I still am. I am having trouble even concentrating enough to admit it. I have never responded well to deadlines but spending more time thinking about mens genitalia in the past 24 hours than I have in a very long time is ridiculous, even for me.
There’s been a thorn in my side for a few months now. Let’s call him Tom.
Think beard, vans, guitarist, band t-shirts, asshole. Ridiculously good looking and a fantastic kisser, which I discovered a few evenings ago (belated christmas present from life I’m sure of it).
This persistent attraction coupled with my non existent sex life has resulted in a dilly of a pickle. I’m borderline infatuated with this person… and he’s never someone I could date. I can’t shake the feeling that I want to spend several continuous days in bed with him. It was unplanned, we spent the night getting cosy after hanging out at the pub with some mutual friends, I stayed over, we did things, but we didn’t engage in intercourse. He is magnetic and makes my face buzz with happiness. My mind has been consumed by the image of him naked for at least 90% of my waking hours since. Having felt that, I have a problem which has manifested in the form of me being too scared to go all the way. I’m not sure if I could, if given the opportunity.
Recalling the events preceding my intimate encounter, I realised I pretty much exhibited every conceivable behaviour that constitutes what most people class as faux pas to deter men. It totally bagged him and this makes me so excited. He loves how I laugh with my whole body, can hang out with the boys and they’re happy to be around me, and I think that he loves it a little bit that I pretend not to be interested in him but I totally am. Who knows though, it’s all speculation at this point. I’m not going to say too much about it now seeing as though tomorrow night, new years eve, will probably determine the dynamic or possibility of us ever doing a sleepover again… oh boy do I want to do it again.
Happy EndYear,
Emily ‘aaaaaaaaand I’m already thinking of him naked in the shower again’ Vans.
NEXT UP – “Watching the borderlines…what is the point of no return between hilarity and shameful flirting” This will probably be a doozy because I have a very innapropriate sense of humour which I have little or no ability to control even when talking with potential babes.
violetandemily 