Still believe Me...?

I once received the best news...I hadn't lost my left ear afterall

Sunday, April 01, 2012

and so i am here again, with my heartfelt message of the day. I am deciding whether or not to venture outside as it does look quite warm but the wind is ummm 'windy'. I do think i need a bit of fresh air in my life, maybe i will open the window, and leave you to disect installment number 2:

F number 2:

The second F is not, as I first thought, Flirt (which, I
must add, I was rather good at in my youth). Flirting is something I now need
to get back into. Something that I should practice once again. It is something,
I discovered, that gets lost along with moments of unadulterated passion,
feelings of pure pleasure and moments of spontaneous ecstasy, when a relationship
starts to fall into the category of the inexplicitly boring and monotonous. Now,
I’m not one to say that my relationship experience has been boring; I’m merely
hinting that it was becoming predictable. Some people may think it is ‘cute’,
to put aside every Tuesday evening for a half hour slot of missionary, before
rolling over and getting on with ‘watching that TV programme, you know, that
one about houses’. However, somewhere along the line the odd flirtatious
comments, those which create a slight pink colour in a person’s cheeks can be
quite beautiful. But I digress.

F number 2: French. This term is referring to the kissing
formation of tongues and head gripping, and more tongues etc etc. I suppose
most of the time such an event will only occur following a small flirtatious
pursuit, unless of course one is in a club and has drunk 10 pints. My
experience of ‘French’ is rather endless. During my first year of University it
became quite a habit of mine to kiss as many living and breathing males as possible
within the space of one night, I’m sure you can guess ‘finding’ was quite
short-lived and I must add the following F’s disappeared without too much
As I have previously stated, I did not need a ‘real’ boyfriend to practice this particular
‘F’, yet it always feels so much better, when your face is being sucked off and
your tonsils are reverberating, to know that this man could potentially be the
love of your life. Man 1 and I would revisit this F quite regularly. This sort
of action could actually take place in a public setting, albeit with a few
hollers and the odd ‘get a room’, so we made the most of it.
I also made the most of it with Man 2. After the New Year’s Eve experience, things between me and Man 2 began to get more heated and he was definitely experienced in the
French area of life. Come Easter, I was enjoying more and more moments of
passionate kissing and was beginning to wonder whether I had been missing out
on something during my pursuit of Man 1. I must remember to add here that
things between me and Man 1 had fizzled out by this point; I do not wish to be
referred to as a wanton philanderer. Overly, this was one of the best times of
my teenage life. The constant feeling of being wanted and the knowledge of
desperately wanting this yourself was enough to put me in a state utter bliss
for most of my time. On the other hand, there were also the days when I was
often told that this could never work and it was during these times that I
moped and pondered, utterly confused as to what was going on. Unfortunately for
me, Man 1 and 2 were (and still are) rather close friends…trust me to make this
far more complicated than it ever should have been. But, as I say, ‘French’ was
fabulous. Who knew those Europeans could create something so orgasmicaly
Already I miss these moments. I’ve become slightly desperate
in my need to feel the force of infatuation engulf my longing lips, but
hopefully, this will soon be rectified. I am determined to rediscover my
ability to entice a man into wanting to kiss me within an inch of my life. But,
I must remember, at the age of 24 I am in no hurry to find ‘Mr Right’, I am
ready and free to explore many of the fish in the big, old, mighty ocean.

Very often in the moments of
‘French’, I found myself being drawn into the wily ways of ‘F’ number 3. During
a few of these moments, particularly with Man 1, I clammed up, got scared and
very quickly withdrew any wandering hands ensuring that, for quite some time, I
did not have to venture down the dark and dangerous road to true
adulthood…despite my previous desire to get there as soon as possible…

number three will be on its way can probably guess where this is going, do feel free to stop reading as soon as any of this becomes a tad x rated!



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