Tales of a Lagan Lover

German Babe in Majorca

2009-10-24T22:59:50+02:00

Glossy dark hair
piled high and tied with
an ivory clasp
ruby lips moisten

a casual smile
a morning hello
a cheery wink
no words spoken

eat smile
cuddle child
nod at spouses
underneath a passion builds

instantly to
my leering gaze
she reacted
rude but effective

a bad habit
a throwback to youth
those eyes
still transmit

the words slid out
yes ja contact followed
white teeth
endless smiles

all in the mind
two people
suddenly alert
constantly visible

once released
the lust
has to be
sated or tested

control it
or you
destroy
many lives

Comments

married Action

2008-08-26T15:19:28+02:00

Collision beneath the duvet
hot flesh against hot flesh
been a while but no regret
hands on breasts mounts so fresh

soft belly a contoured plain
groins below on fire
parted lips and broad hips
cries of pleasure no pain

pressing down on the tower
the sacred rod
safe in the tunnel
all blood and power

no awkward blush
no rushed sentence
together as one
till the flush

then heads on the pillow
contempating the ceiling
the delicious glow
replaced by twilight's gleaming

Comments

In praise of Thongs

2008-04-28T23:15:26+02:00

At the bus stop
pink and frilled
sits above blue jeans
a wondrous sight

Once for
this pleasure
men would pay
not today

teenage girls
moms with prams
glamourous grans
all dress to thrill

setting mens hearts
racing with
a flash of frill
above curved flesh

how I love
the thong
an image so strong
it makes men long

Comments

Old Friend

2008-03-24T01:18:52+01:00

Strange how time robs
us of our essence
makes you sob
at the loss of presence

in the car park
she stood smiling
teeth and eyes
unchanged

it was the grey
in that chestnut hair
the wrinkles on a
once smooth cheek

that caught me
by surprise
I don't know why
I thought she'd never age

Two kids, pushing 40
the narrow figure
thickened, breasts enlarged
where did the little elf go

the cheery
ever smiling one
who tolerated misdemeanours
cleared up and patted heads

it went wrong somewhere
her dream died
chose the wrong man
now its too late to change

I could have saved her
loved her even
put on the road to joy
but all she wanted was her black haired boy

Comments

Vision

2008-01-10T23:40:51+01:00

Blond strands frame
a flawless face
eyes shine with
innocent charm

delicate fingertip
resting on a ruby lip
charm beams from every pore
a venus on my lap

How kind can God be
so many gifts in one
slender package
pert and firm

Comments

making the connection

2007-12-28T00:27:22+01:00

eyes meet
knowing smile
hands travel to their destination
soft groans a nod of approval

no signals on this line
use your instinct
search for the route
its there if only you could see

hands on plump mounds
lips caress dark flesh
legs entwined
two people one mind

older younger
it doesn't matter when
the thrill remains the same
this is the eternal game

working on
building up the fire
no stopping
at this you never tire

Comments

Teasing at the tea machine

2007-12-18T23:54:23+01:00

Standing by the well
stolen glimpses
occasional smile
searching for an opening

no contact just dreams
superimposed on a grey reality
when to break through
how to cross the beam

words unspoken
passion welling
can't stare
might get noticed

awoken by a beep
drink ready
please take
time to move

Comments

Please yourself

2007-12-02T01:16:52+01:00

finger slides down
the smooth ski slope
bounces over the ruby red crown
over the edge without a rope

soft landing
on a plateau it wanders
over undulating land
aiming for the hill

inside a warm welcome awaits
as long as you can get past the gate
sometimes you have to knock
before it unlocks

Comments

adventure

2007-11-29T00:28:07+01:00

the view from above
hillocks with red towers
rolling uplands
in the middle a wishing well

further south a little forest
thick and dark
hiding a fiord
narrow and dark

at the entrance a wishing chair
sit there gently
and peace and pleasure comes
slow at first then a torrent

travel to the pool
watch you don't fall in
its slippery no grip there
just walk round the shore

dark surface so inviting
just slip in
skinny dip, why not
there's no danger

water embraces you like velvet
soft and gentle
dive down get immersed
become as one

back to the surface
very awake
scared' shocked but happy
climb up into the light

Comments

Faint heart

2007-11-24T23:01:17+01:00

dark shiny hair
ruby red lips
push up bra
and narrow hips

tanned cleavage inviting
attention and conversation
are those eyes smiling
asking me to make a move

do I clasp her in my arms
make her aware of my charms
surely she knows what I want
how I long for her

things get busier
she sits down with friends
I swallow beer and chit chat
and let the night end

long walk home
alone again
why didn't I try
makes me want to cry

Comments

Fatherly advice

2007-11-21T00:29:21+01:00

driving down the road
news is real bad
world is going nowhere
people are sad

we are getting too old
immigrants are getting too bold
no-one's happy
everybody's snappy

it's all lies
thats no surprise
it all rests on the dice
you don't get to throw twice

take your chance
make your choice
live the best you can
be a man

the only thing that matters
is what matters to you
screw the politicians
we gotta get wise

the world needs to forget
the greed for gold
that makes young men old
before their time

Concentrate on happiness
live, love and stop chasing the
corporate mess
and look for the future in you

Comments

Steamy windows

2007-11-20T00:52:40+01:00

Twilight on a lonely road
Popped out in a Honda Civic
Legs across the dash
we started to thrash

Thundering on the road to somewhere
The beat was in my ears
and in my chest
as I worked with her

Sweating ass bumping on the steering wheel
Knee grinding on the transmission tunnel
can't stop now
Don't stop

Carpet burns, seat squeaking
getting tired now
hands grip my shoulders
looking at the view, wow

choked madness
lost control
pain, pleasure, mess
I flop and roll

condensation
can't see a thing
happy empty sensation
my finger on her wedding ring

Comments

Dreams

2007-11-16T00:54:02+01:00

Arm coiled round a narrow back
firm mounds against my chest
all evidence of the moral courage I lack
rhythm and religion not the best

long soft hair well combed and tended
sweet lips open and moist
the affection visible and intent
why is she here by choice

why care she's here with me
soft and welcoming a true delight
her giggles set me free
each time I bite

Comments

Imagery

2007-11-11T00:59:33+01:00

Busted flat in Baton Rouge
Loaded on Tanqueray and wine
thinking about my little stooge
made me pine

The nights are real lonely
I try to make the day last
but when no man speaks your name
no loving voice whispers in your ear
its not easy

I succumb to the night
sitting in the dark
searching for a purpose
someone to be with till the dawn

Comments

Dancing

2007-11-05T01:11:06+01:00

hold her close
close enough to her shape
to feel her mould to me

thrust, parry, marry
please don't tarry
spin her round

watch those long legs
encased in nylon
come closer I beg

locked on now
she knows my intention
I won't break the conventions

Comments

Mutual

2007-11-01T00:30:01+01:00

mutual pleasure, hands everywhere, trousers down, skirt up, bra unhooked, one hand luxuriating in a moist heaven, another stroking the core of my existence.

frenzy

the whimpering increases, i don't want this moment to end.

shuddering girlish laughter, watch the carpet, its over, eyes open, hansen and lineker are still debating the last offside.

Comments

Rollicking rogering

2007-10-23T23:33:09+02:00

The women I sleep with these days are getting older, and so am I. Sex is becoming very different. 20 years ago I did all the work and hoped it made them as happy as me.

Now things are changing the other night I found myself being well and truly ridden by an ostensibly strait laced and sensible woman. After some standard foreplay she mounted me and made herself very happy, not that I was complaining it was great. Its just that I realised that the balance had changed, I wasn't in control, I wasn't driving things forward. In simple terms I wasn't the primary recipient of the pleasure.

I have read about the way women awaken sexually in their thirties I am now encountering the proof. I am looking forward to some great times over the next twenty or thirty years. No more teenagers or twenty somethings for me, just experienced focused ladies.

Comments

Back

2007-02-27T00:24:13+01:00

Well it seems like a lifetime since I last contributed to this blog. Life was pretty strange back then. After a rather traumatic break up with my married lover which resulted in my car getting wrecked and my house vandalised. I decided to lead a quiet life.

After a month or so of celibacy I met Marie a small red haired teacher from Preston with an interest in restoring classic cars. I met her at a car auction and ended up in bed with her the same night. Its funny sex with some people just seems right, your cock slides in perfectly, the rythm comes naturally and you just don't seem to have to try to really enjoy yourself.

Stroking Marie's pink nipples is one of the most erogenous things I have ever done I get erect every time I think of it. The funny thing is she's just an ordinary girl nothing flash. She tolerates my habits and unusually for woman really knows how to give a hand job.

In short I think I may be in love or possibly lust.

Comments

Marriage safety valves

2006-09-10T23:36:51+02:00

After last weekend's fracas life was quiet this week. Liam and Gaz have been grounded by their girlfriends who have always regarded me as a bad influence. Andy was working late all week and went out with some of his drug pals on Friday so I was on me tod.

I resorted to the little black book and tried Sarah the veteran goth first but she was off frolicing with her Deserter. Danielle didn't answer which bearing in mind what happened last weekend was a relief. Late on Friday afternoon I decided to bite the bullet and call Vicky the married woman I met in IKEA.

She actually seemed quite glad to hear from me which was a bonus. I asked her if she was doing anything on Saturday and she said she was free between 12 and 4 because her kids were going to her mothers and her husband was going to play golf. I offered to take her out for lunch but she declined concerned that the chances of being spotted by a friend or neighbour were particularly high on a Saturday afternoon.

I began to think all was lost when Vicky asked where I lived. Cautiously I told her my address. She asked if it was easy to park and I told her there were loads of free spaces on a Saturday afternoon behind the block out of sight of the road. 'Great I'll see you at 12 for lunch' she said very saucily.

My mind was in turmoil, the prospects looked good but I'd better stock up at Tesco's just in case she really wanted just lunch. At 11.50 on saturday I stood in my spotless flat with a table groaning with sandwiches and snacks. Suddenly the buzzer went. Vicky's voice hummed over the intercom 'Tufty your 12 o'clock is here' I let her in quick before the neighbours spotted her.

I opened the door and there she was looking very nice in brown linen trousers and a creme top. 'Come in and sit down, I like a woman who's punctual' I said in best best host style. Vicky smiled and murmoured 'No point in wasting precious time'. I closed the door and turned round to find her right behind me blocking my path to the living room. I stepped forward and hugged her, before I could do anything else it was all fiery kisses and wandering hands.

Trousers fell off, tops came off, underwear melted, two people went mad. Suddenly I was lying beside her in the hall exhausted, my pulse racing. I stroked her breast and asked, 'Would you like to eat now or proceed to the bedroom?'. 'Bed' was the immediate response.

I got a good look at my new mistress as she walked through. Tall slightly plump but with a wonderfully womanly shape broad shoulders, narrow back and waist and beautiful round hips. Her breasts were big, D cups I would have thought with exquisite thick deep red nipples and a huge areola. For the next two hours I was worked hard, this woman was very enthusiastic.

Then we lay quietly together, her husband worked for an IT company running some kind of Managed Service, he sounded decent enough but a bit dull. The children were 8 and 12 but a pair of spoilt little monsters who were more interested in trips in daddy's jag than anything their mother wanted them to do.

I fed her some of the feast I had laid on. She found my manly idea of a buffet lunch rather funny, corned beef sarnies, pakora and samosas with indian dips obviously wasn't her style. No surprise but she ate plenty anyway.

At half three she got twitchy, it was time to go, no point in being late home to make hubby's tea. I smiled supportively. Then Vicky turned, hugged me and said 'That was the best afternoon I've had for years. I feel fantastic, what are you doing next Saturday?' I said I had no plans. 'Well then I want to come here again will you be in, same time. I'll bring lunch. Is that a date? Please say yes?'

How could I say no. She smothered me in kisses, 'this is the best cure for a dull marriage a woman could have' she sobbed in my ear. I hugged and kissed her, lost for words. She finally left when it looked as if we were heading back to bed. From my window I watched her walk to her black Range Rover and waved.

Comments

What our friends think of us

2006-09-04T00:16:56+02:00

Saturday night was dull England and Scotland won and both Irelands lost. Andy brayed in my ear about how his boys were the true world champs robbed by Ericson's dodgy tactics. I grinned inanely and said 'Roight enough, sor!' so frequently that he realised I was finding his analysis rather wearing.

He then burst into an analysis of my activities over the past week, dumping Kully, romping with Sarah, getting off with Sofia and chatting up women in coffee bars at half nine in the morning. 'You've lost the plot mate, what are you trying to prove?' I shrugged. 'Have you been given a year to live or summat? You were bad before but at least it was controlled, you know weekend pull, walk away when she got fed up. Now you want everything you see.' I laughed, 'Don't you fancy loads of women every day?' 'Yeah' says Andy the moral philosopher 'But my internal monologue is my business, it's private, the volume is turned down so that only I can hear it. Yours is on full, blaring out everywhere you go. Hi I am a randy Paddy fancy a shag!! You'll come a cropper one of these days.'

'Too right' says Gaz, 'you're like a bloody teenager wandering about full of hormones with a constant hard-on. Sometimes its really embarassing watching you wander up to these birds, especially the young ones. We look like "perverts are us" for hanging around with ya.' 'Whats it got to do with you' I retorted. 'None of them ever talk to you' 'Yea, I wish they did.' he quipped 'I don't know what they see in you' 'Its my Irish charm you Manchester twat' I responded.

I looked at both of them Andy, his once thck curly hair now grey and combed forward and Gaz with his greying crewcut that replaced his Guns n Roses thatch when he burned himself with the crimping iron, and wondered how I ever managed to pull in their company. Liam had been his usual quiet Yorkshire self. 'What about you lad, do I embarass you?' 'Nah' he said 'I know you're a twat so nothing you do causes me any pain.'

'Thanks, guys, you've really wounded me with this crap.' I growled. At this point Andy interjected with his conclusion 'I reckon you've become an adrenalin junkie, 40's coming up fast and you want some decent stories to tell at the bar when you're 60. Who could beat Tufty McLaughlin the man who shagged 150 birds in his 39th year. Other guys go to Bangkok you want to do it the hard way. Mark my words you'll cross some nutter if you keep this game up at this week's pace.' 'Bollocks! you're more likely to get whacked buying drugs from your rasta pals in Highfields than I am for chatting up loose women.' This took the momentum out of the argument, Andy didn't like his drug consumption discussed too openly.

We sat quietly for a while staring at our beer. At the bar Danielle appeared looking extremely gorgeous, in the company of a tall well groomed man. I nudged the lads, 'There's the bird from the Coffee shop' 'Fuck, she's amazing' was the general response though mostly they just stared. Tall well groomed man frowned back and mouthed 'Fuck off' to Andy. Andy being rather short-sighted and too vain to were glasses especially in a pub. Grimaced back his eyes screwed up trying work out what was going on. Before any of us could react Tall well groomed man had stormed over to our table and was staring wildly at Andy and growling in a scouse accent 'Ere Grandpa stop fucking staring at me missus or I'll kick your fucking head in!!!'

'Sorry, mate, I meant no harm' Andy said in his most gentle tone. 'Too fucking late late mate' said Tall well groomed man. I was about to speak when Liam cracked him with a right. Liam had probably been waiting for a moment like this for years, a chance to use his karate training for real. The big guy never saw it coming and slumped on top of Gaz spilling his pint and busting his nose with his head as he fell. Danielle watching from a distance ran over screaming, her boyfriend looked pretty rough his shirt covered in blood from Gaz' nose. She looked at me and snarled, 'Do you really think getting your mates to beat him up would make me fancy you, you fucking psycho?' 'I didn't do anything, he just came at us' The hollowness of my response echoed round the room. Mr Boyfriend looked up suspiciously but I suspect being clasped to Danielle's bosom muffled his hearing considerably. She looked at me and said 'He can be a bit overprotective, just go. We can talk about it some other time.' 'Really?' I asked. 'Yea, you've got my number haven't you? Use it sometime. Now just leave us alone.'

I turned round to see Liam and Gaz being frogmarched out by the bouncers with Andy remonstrating. I smiled at Danielle but she looked as if she was breastfeeding Mr Boyfriend back to life. Outside Liam and Gaz hit the pavement with a 'Don't bother coming back, you're barred message from the bouncers'.

'Well lads, what were you trying to demonstrate there? Self control, subtlety or how to get into a fracas for fun?' I said smugly 'All you had to do was look at her, not stare at her the way a starving lion would stare at a steak! No wonder the guy went ballistic, three old gits staring at his missus like she was in a peep show.' 'She's beautiful, it was an involuntary response to a sudden overpowering stimulus' said Andy in his best scientific tone.

Comments

Coffee houses are they aphrodisiacs?

2006-09-02T00:37:34+02:00

In alone on a Friday night, I find myself musing over a strange week. No word from Kully I can only assume she's gone for good. Just in case I didn't bother calling her.

Got a few texts from Sarah through the week. Shes off visiting her parents in Aylesbury this weekend so no easy romance to be had. I was out with Andy and a couple of the other neighbours Liam and Gaz on Wednesday. Four ageing saddo's we had a bit of a pub crawl round the student haunts before going to a student night at a dodgy club. As usual Andy was spaced on some pharmaceutical. Liam and Gaz, solid chaps with proper girlfriends, laughed and got solidly pissed. As is my want once the beer started to taste bad and the conversation got repetitive I went in search of women.

After some extremely fruitless attempts at conversation with women young enough to be my daughters it looked like being a blank night. I wandered unsteadily to the dancefloor and watched a tall girl with lots of brown curly hair dancing shyly with two friends. She filled her 501's better then any woman I have seen for years. In one of those moments of inspiration that only occur when I'm drunk. I sidled up to her and began dancing in a pseudo flamenco style. She burst out laughing but didn't run away. We danced for a couple of tracks smiling at each other. Before retiring to a sofa to chat. Her name was Sofia, a Polish girl from Halifax. It wasn't long before we were snogging. I broke off to get some drinks and got a goodbye wave from my buddies who had reached their bedtime.

At closing time I walked Sofia home hand in hand. She was a very gentle affectionate girl. She lived up a dark drive in what can only be described as a 'Folly', a turreted gatehouse. Her flat had a tiny living room kitchen and a bedroom upstairs with a crucifix shaped window like you get in old castles to fire arrows out of. We sat down on her tiny sofa and wrestled for an hour or so before she very politely said it was time for her to go to bed and me to go home. We parted very amicably, I walked home with the sort of glow you get when you are 18 and in love. Unfortunately no contact details were exchanged and the prospect of meeting again was never discussed. C'est la vie.

Thursday was a tough day I am too old to survive on two hours sleep and go to work. Today I had a 9 am meeting in a coffee house with a couple ugly mugs. As we sat discussing our exciting project I stared into space. Suddenly the space was filled by a gorgeous vision. A beautiful dark haired woman walked in and sat down opposite me. She was about 5'6 and very curvy with a healthy golden tan. Her grey dress fitted perfectly and displayed just the right amount of cleavage to suggest that she had a wonderful pair of breasts. I must have been staring at her because she beamed a warm smile at me, her gleaming white teeth emphasised by the cherry red glow from her lips. Transfixed I smiled back, she kept smiling. It was all I could do to stop myself leaping across the tables to speak to her. Meanwhile my colleagues had been busy discussing some extremely weighty topics. I cut back in, just as they came to a conclusion. We shook hands on reaching such a sound agreement. They left in a hurry to get to their next meet.

I stayed behind on the pretext of going to the toilet. Once they had left I walked over to the raven haired princess and sat down. She laughed, 'Did you ditch your pals for me?'. 'Yup, once I saw you I had to have you'. Cue gales of laughter, her name was Danielle and she was from Liverpool killing time before a job interview. I told her she was a certainty to get the job and followed up with a would you like to go out some time? 'Me boyfriend might not appreciate that but here's my mobile number call me'. I said thanks and gave her my number. I held her hand and gave her a peck on the cheek and walked her to the door. She walked off looking fantastic and I strolled back to work consumed with lust, the woman looked amazing.

I got home exhausted tonight, Wednesday's exertions were still affecting me. I fell asleep watching the news and woke up too late to go anywhere. Danielle has occupied my thoughts throughout the day, ther must have been something in the coffee I am never this taken by a casual encounter.

Comments

Dusky Maiden departs

2006-08-28T23:33:28+02:00

I managed to get out without Kully on Friday night. My next door neighbour Andy a 43 year old systems analyst with a serious drug and alcohol habit asked me to some works do. He asked Kully too but she reckoned he was an old deviant so she stayed in.

Andy is a good laugh, one of these guys who likes having fun and doesn't dwell too much on the consequences. He was one of those eighties students who did loads of hitching across Europe, taking drugs and sleeping in huts, watching Liverpool in European Cup finals and getting into all that Summer of Love ecstasy crap at the start. He has a fine collection of shit albums by guys like the Stone Roses and Happy Mondays. In the 90's he grew up got a decent job then in keeping with times (he really is Mr Zeitgeist)jacked it in to bum around Moshav work camps, Egypt and eventually India for a couple of years. When he came back he lived in a few London squats before marrying some crazy woman from Walthamstow who ripped him off and divorced him once he'd bought the big house for her. That was about four years ago, he moved in beside me shortly afterwards and our shared interest in beer and shagging has led to some decent nights out.

Anyway I have rambled a bit but its useful background for what happened this weekend. Andy's colleagues are the usual bunch of IT twats with plenty of money and no commonsense and that geek's idea of a good time. Once the free bar closed me and Andy went off to the pub next door and got talking to a couple of eighties throwbacks, goth females one with wild Siouxsie hair and the other with blond crimped hair. We almost wet ourselves looking at them, the Siouxsie clone was called Skippy or Chippy I couldn't tell the music was too loud. The other one was called Sarah and I got on quite well with her.

At closing time we went to their favourite club, where me and Andy looked like the freaks, two catalogue men (mature section) in a world of black clothes and white face powder. By two o'clock we were walking back to Sarah and Chippy's place. Andy and Chippy were bickering about the Mission and the Jesus and Mary Chain. Sarah and me were arm in arm and getting friendlier.

At their place after an hour of so of polite conversation Andy was unconscious and I was in bed with Sarah. Sounds great so far eh! Well not quite a home run, lots of kissing and petting but no penetration. A real disappointment. Sarah had a very similar build and body to Kully and strangely the same stringy nipples, must be something in the water round here. I did have the odd pang of guilt about my live in lover, back home but it didn't out me off.

We talked a lot too and it soon became clear she had a boyfriend and that was why the action wasn't going to a conclusion. I asked where he was and she said he was a soldier. 'In Iraq or Afghanistan?' I asked. 'Neither he's a deserter, and he's on the run. He didn't fancy going back to Iraq so he slipped out of Catterick six months ago and has been lying low ever since'. 'One of these guys who didn't like the army when it stopped being a shoe polishing club, is that it?' I said. 'No, it was the stress out in Iraq. He couldn't face the hostility of the people he was trying to help' she whimpered. 'I've enough experience of the Brits idea of helping the locals at Killyleagh border post to understand exactly why the local Iraqis treat them with a little hostility' says I.

She took my cynicism rather well and told me his name was Bill, a scouser and surprisingly a para. In Iraq apparently the first time his unit met some hostiles late one night, they dropped to the floor and he admitted to shitting himself unable to look up or fire. Seemingly he wasn't the only one who bottled it. There were lots of smelly blokes after the firefight ended.

The next morning she made breakfast and we stayed in bed most of the day talking and petting. I turned off my mobile to avoid any calls from Kully. Andy had disappeared before anyone else got up. On Saturday evening we went back out to the pub I met them in, along with a lod of their pals including an arse called Chris from Newry with a real attitude problem. The kind of kid who missed the worst of the troubles but still feels oppressed by the British state. We argued intermittently. We went back to the Goth club and then home to Sarah's for a late night bevvy and boring drug smoking session. We retired to bed for more snogging and fondling. I was getting a bit smelly by this stage and determined to go home asap but Sarah seemed to like me so I stayed the night.

After breakfast on Sunday morning I said my goodbyes, exchanged phone no's and promised to be in touch. Sarah seemed keen to see me again. I wandered home to face the music, suddenly concerned about how I had treated Kully. The flat was empty, her clothes were gone, there was no note, the only trace of her was several empty Nescafe jars on the draining board. I sat down listened to some fraught and abusive answer phone messages but didn't feel too upset at her departure.

After lunch I knocked Andy's door, he answered rather sheepishly. 'Oh I'm really sorry mate, I didn't mean any harm' he gibbered. 'What the fuck are you talking about?' I retorted. 'You don't know?' he gasped. 'She didn't tell you?' 'No she called me a few names on Saturday morning but nothing since then. What happened?'

I sat down in his living room and he told me a story that really confirmed that life is stranger than fiction. He got home about nine on Saturday morning and went to bed. Kully practically kicked his door in an hour later, demanding to know where I was. Andy, possibly due to the drugs, just can't tell lies and generally doesn't bother especially if he is hungover. He told her the full story and suggested that I had gone to bed with sarah but he couldn't be sure because he had fallen asleep. She went ballistic then burst into tears and went back to my flat. Andy could hear her sobbing through the wall. Being a sensitive soul he went round and made her something to eat and gave her a hug. According to him Kully went a bit wild and started snogging him. Before he knew it they were naked in my bed. Just as he was about to enter her she leapt up, shouted this is not right, get out you old pervert. He tried to remonstrate but she pushed him naked out the dooor and threw his clothes after him. Through his spyhole he saw her leave an hour later with her suitcases. Hence his sheepishness.

I laughed 'Don't worry you did me a favour, pal, if she was in when I got home she would've killed me.'

Comments

IKEA is a great place........for meeting women

2006-08-22T23:39:19+02:00

On Kully's orders I went to IKEA this afternoon to buy some wardrobes. Never really been before but my mate Andy swears by the meatballs and the coffee.

I arrived at one and went in for lunch, no point in humphing furniture on an empty stomach. I had the big portion of meatballs and jam which tasted great. Sweden has gone up in my estimation, the coffee was fantastic, I took advantage of the free refills to try the hot chocolate too. Sitting alone in the restaurant I realised that IKEA was a kind of hotspot for 'ladies who lunch' all around me were rather good looking ladies of a certain age and their equally attractive daughters.

After ogling quietly for half an hour I set off round the shop looking for Kully's desired wardrobe, apparently mine is too old and too small. Women don't realise that men don't need much space for their clothes.

Wandering round I found myself behind one group which consisted of a young couple about 22 (the wife plumply attractive in a Kirty Allsop kind of way) and the wife's mother a beautiful slightly faded woman in I would say he mid forties. Mom and me exchanged a rather warm smile over a Malm chest of drawers. The daughter cast her mother a disparaging look and I moved swiftly on.

By the kitchens I bumped into a tall woman with short dark hair and glasses. She had the body of a retired swimmer with broad shoulders and huge breasts. We exchanged apologies and warm smiles, I moved on slowly this woman made me throb and she was alone. No daughter or husband to cramp her style. We passed and re-passed each other throwing out those little sideways looks that show the chase is on.

At the wardrobe section I had to stop and ask the assistant where I could find the one I was after. He was a doddery old beggar who flapped visibly at being asked to use his computer. As granpa fooled around with the keyboard the tall woman stopped at the bed section and made a great show of bending over looking at beds within feet of me. I felt as if she was deliberately pointing her ass and cleavage at me. I was lost in the throes of passion until Granpa brought me back with; "There in row 20 and section A you'll find them no-bother". "Thanks" I grumbled and looked around to find the tall woman had disappeared.

I caught up with her at the bathroom accessories section. I picked up a toilet brush (another Kully order)and looked up to seek the big girl exposing huge amounts of cleavage leaning over the shelf to my left. I looked at her, smiled and said hello. She smiled back and I bravely asked her if I could buy her a drink in the restaurant. You're a bit presumptious she growled. I laughed and said I was a lonely bloke out on a shopping trip for his girlfriend, I need some female company. "OK" she says "as long as you buy".

I bought her a glass of ligonberry juice(classy!)and we sat down. Her name was Vicky, married with two kids. She found the name Tufty rather amusing. I held her hand and we sat side by side on the bench chatting quietly. I squeezed her thigh, she hugged me, kissed me and said this wasn't such a good idea. I protested, she gave me her mobile no and said "Call me sometime if you want a chat". Then she left. I considered following her but felt it probably wasn't a good idea.

I went downstairs, bought my wardrobes, wished Vicky had stuck around because a big girl like her would have come in useful lifting the big boxes. I got home built the wardrobes, in time for Kully coming home and sat down to home cooked paratha for tea. Not a bad life in some ways. I suggested a few other IKEA products we might want, I feel another visit coming on soon.

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Dusky Maiden 4

2006-08-21T23:53:44+02:00

Its almost been a week now. Waking up beside a good looking woman every morning is great. Having sex every night ain't too bad either. The only problem is when its the same woman every night. I'm enjoying the romance and closeness but I do miss the thrill of the chase. Sometimes it would be nice to have the space to lie down and have a ham shank.

Yup having Kully in my life 24 hours a day is getting stressful. I need space and she wants attention. We're not compatible but she doesn't seem to realise. We are the best pals in all the world in her eyes, she's probably planning the wedding already. Every suggestion that she might want to go home is ignored and any hint that I might want to spend the evening with someone else is met with naked breasts or a lifted skirt. This affair is not healthy but I can't deny that the woman knows how to keep a man happy.

My mates laugh at me, the king of the one night stands entrapped by a 5 foot manipulative nympho. I want a return to my own company midweek and weekend jumps with uncomplicated women. Am I being unreasonable?

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Dusky Maiden 3

2006-08-20T00:18:23+02:00

Kully came round on Wednesday and hasn't gone home yet. I'm having fun but it all feels too respectable. She's a nice girl who is a bit highly strung with a serious Nescafe addiction; ten cups a day with five or six spoonfuls in each.

She does every thing at speed, cooks cleans and is a very enthusiastic lover. My only complaint is lack of personal space she's hooked onto me day and night. I am desperately trying to think of some way of ditching her that doesn't cause too much pain. Short of her catching me with someone else I can't see her leaving.

My habits are changing, we didn't go to the pub at all this weekend! We went for a meal tonight and last night we went to the pictures. She's in bed now waiting for me to finish off a report for work before I perform my conjugal duties. I not used to this level of affection and organisation. Somethings got to give.

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Dusky maiden 2

2006-08-15T23:30:19+02:00

Kully came round last night, a real surprise as I thought it was a one nighter. Like many unmarried Celtic blokes living in England I don't have much of a mid-week social life unless I'm down the pub. Midweek I tend to stay sober just because it makes work just about bearable. If I go to work with a hangover these days I'm in danger of strangling my boss.

Anyway I digress for a reason, sitting watching telly in a semi-comatose state is my natural Monday routine. Enertaining a young lady is not high up the planned agenda (weekends only you understand, saving on washing). I felt a bit put out and had to restrain myself from turning into a cross between Mrs Doyle and Father Dougal. "Would ya like a cup o tea, go on you know you do" followed by "What brings ya round here, we don't get many passersby on a Monday!!"

You guessed it, I was rattled, the prospect of bad news (AIDS, the Clap, Psycho Husband!!) or worse good news (I've missed you, can we see each other more often, lets get married aargh!!) was making my stomach churn. Worringly she made no demands just burst into conversation like we were old pals. Talked about relatives, mad uncles in Coventry, cousins who were always getting beat up, a typically Irish conversation. The Donegalis and the Bengalis have very similar interests it would seem; death, family, drink and food.

After an hour or two it was getting dark, I offered to walk her home, she smiled, pulled out her toothbrush and nightdress froma suspiciously large handbag and said she was staying over. "Is that right, says I". "Yea fella you need a good woman to look after ya. At your age you should be married with big kids not hanging about discos looking for ten to two shags".

Realising resistance would lead to an uncomfortable situation I smiled and said "You can stay tonight but lets not get carried away, we don't know each other very well. You're not moving in yet."

"Fine boyo, come here" said a now naked Kully. Never one to resist an invitation I stepped in and almost swallowed her whole. Aniseed flavoured Indian women are hard to beat on a Monday night. This morning she was up at six and out by seven, dressed and fed as well as my humble kitchen can manage. She promised to call on Wednesday as she went out the door.

Not quite sure where this is going but I am not going to worry too much about it. Most women realise pretty quickly that I'm not marriage material and escape before things get too rough. She's a nice girl but I'm not interested enough for there to be much of a future.

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Just another Friday night

2006-08-13T00:30:28+02:00

Found myself standing at the edge of the dancefloor staring at women. Friday was drawing to a close and it looked as if I was heading home for a lonely night. God I felt like a failure.

Then I realised that someone was staring back. I smiled suggestively, it appeared to work. After swallowing a bucket I find non verbal communication the most effective approach. We met mid dancefloor and started to move in that shuffling way that only drunks can. She looked good, about 5'3", wavy mousey hair and a pretty face. Some conversation was exchanged, I established that she was a student called Andrea with a vaguely Antipodean twang. I asked if she was Australian and she laughed and said no I'm from Chatham. Then I kissed her. Got to act before you drive them off, more men should do this, it would avoid loads of marital strife.

After about ten minutes of near frenzied snogging I suggested we head back to my place. She refused and suggested her place was nearer. Fine by me, its a lot easier to leave than it is to try and kick out a guest who outstays her welcome.

Her place was one of those typical student terraced houses that stinks of tobacco, dope and joss-sticks. Upstairs we got straight into bed, no messing and not much talking. Her body was pleasingly plump but well tanned with little breasts enhanced by wonderfully pointy nipples. After pumping like pistons for ten minutes or so, we slowed down. I thought conversation was going to break out but I could see she was just falling asleep and trying new stuff to keep awake. I knew the game was up when she fell asleep mid BJ. I gently disconnected her and went to sleep.

After an hour I sparked back into life but my little Andrea was still snoring happily. Like a true gent I hopped out of bed, got dressed and left. There's nothing worse than sticking around for breakfast with a woman who won't have a clue who you are or where she met you.

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Dusky maidens

2006-08-09T23:30:11+02:00

The other night I bumped into a small but perfectly formed Indian girl called Kully. At first I thought her name was Kelly, but she certainly didn't look Irish. Before I could probe her identity too deeply she was kissing me and checking that I had the right parts. Don't blame her, they say there are a lot of women dressed as men around these days, preying on young girls.

After some tonsil tickling and dancefloor we retired to my mansion for a spot of wrestling and lubricant application. I haven't met such an enthusiastic girl for a long time. I now understand the phrase 'full of eastern promise'. On Sunday morning we smiled at each other over breakfast, wandered around in the morning sunshine and promised to keep in touch.

I waved her off at the edge of the city centre with a little sigh of relief. Lovely girl but a bit too serious for me. Will I see her again? Don't know, she knows where I live and she's got my number. She'll turn up if she's interested. Otherwise I will carry on my mission to conquer a new woman every time I step out the door.

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My Mission

2006-08-05T23:37:26+02:00

I want to put the record straight about being an Irishman in England. We're the forgotten minority these days with all teh shit about Muslims and caribbean drugs shootings. Since the IRA packed in the media have started to ignore the Irish. The plays and the films have dried up, but I tell ya we're still here and just as potent as ever.

The girls love Donegal men like me with our lovely brogue and hard drinking ways. I might not be tall, dark or handsome but I can pull the babes. Now I'm gonna tell you folks about it.

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