conflicted

I'm still surprised about last weekend. It seems a bit unreal.

But of course, in hind-sight, it makes sense. If you catch the most common STD in the world (HPV), of course lots of other people will have caught it as well. The odds of ending up in bed with one of them aren't really so small. That's how I caught it in the first place, right?

It so happens that the strains that cause visible warts (like the ones I've been fighting to get rid of for the past few months) aren't the strains that cause cancer... so aside from the stigma, they aren't really a big deal.

But the stigma matters.

I'm not just surprised though, I'm also having second thoughts. Meeting and sleeping with Rosa was amazing. I can't wait to see her again. And yet, at the same time, I worry that we let the drink cloud our judgement. Maybe she had a different strain of HPV from the one I have. Maybe she can catch mine as well and will regret having slept with me. Maybe I should have known better than to expose her to that risk. Maybe she regrets our time together and won't want to see me again.

Will sobriety and guilt make her play the feminine victim card, will she dramatically blame the evil man (me) for a decision she made and regrets?

Am I being an arrogant chauvinist, second-guessing her sincerity, motives, decisions?

Or, worse - was I perhaps selfish, did I throw caution to the wind just because I wanted to get laid?

I just don't know what to think. Part of me is elated and can't wait to meet her again, part of me worries and frets. And part of me just wants to go out and find out how many other girls I can have fun with like that.

Worries aside, last weekend I realized I can have lots of sexy fun without actually rubbing the rapidly disappearing warts against anyone.

That's something anyway!

made me cry

This blog post, together with the comments, made me cry.

If you came here looking for something sexy, don't click on that link. But do so later, it's worth reading.

surprises

I've been pretty down in the dumps about the warts for the past few weeks.

I'm rubbish at getting to know girls socially and slowly turning a friendship into something more. I've always started at the other end. Pick them up, get them naked, fill them with cock. See how things go from there. I suppose that's backwards compared to what most people do, but it's worked for me and it's great fun.

How do you do that with warts? It doesn't really work at all.

If I fuck someone and she finds out I knew I had warts, then I'm a right bastard and if she has any backbone at all she'll dump my ass and warn the world about me. If I feign ignorance, then I'm setting myself up for a huge mess when I find someone good. I don't believe in building relationships on lies. If I tell the truth then girls won't sleep with me in the first place and I can't help but wonder, would any girl really want such damaged goods for a boyfriend?

And before you tell me condoms are the solution, no they fucking aren't. They don't cover the warts.

So most weekends I just stay in feeling sorry for myself.

Not all though, a few times I've gone out, had fun, flirted a bit and then run away leaving confused girls in my wake. Good for my ego, but damn I hate the running away part. Some of the girls here are hot like you wouldn't believe.

Friday night I was feeling a bit less depressed than usual, so I put on my runners and went out.

I accompanied my flatmate to a bar named Dillon's, where friends of his were celebrating something. A birthday I think, but most of the celebrations and congratulations were in Icelandic and I didn't really get what was going on. Said flatmate is helpfully refusing to speak English to me, claiming that will help me learn Icelandic faster.

Who told him I wanted to learn Icelandic, anyway? Arrogant bastard.

I just had drinks and chatted and flirted with more cooperative people.

One of the girls caught my eye early on, I had also noticed her with this group a few weeks back and we'd chatted a bit. A lovely ginger, red curls, freckles, pale white skin. Her shoulders were bare and I could tell she had strong arms. Sexy.

I remembered her name, Rosa (rose?), asked her if she remembered mine. She did. She introduced her friend Harpa to me, a very flirtatious brunette. I watched them together and thought about getting the two of them into my bed at once, someday, once the warts were gone...

Rosa and I got on like a house on fire. I jokingly asked her if she had gotten tired of guys trying to pick her up by offering to count her freckles, surely they must try that line all the time? I made a point of admiring her assets as I said so, putting on my best leer. She laughed and agreed that yes, it had become oh so tiresome.

Poor girl, I promised not to try any lines like that then.

The night went on, drinks were drunk, the bar closed. Dillon's is one of the places that closes at 3am, further down the street bars are open longer.

Most of the group said goodnight, either couples eager to get home and shag or singletons feeling put off by the cold and dark. Somehow I ended up heading to Kaffibarinn with Rosa and Harpa and no one else.

Kaffibarinn ("the coffee bar" although I don't think they actually serve coffee) is where all the hip theatre and film types get arsed on weekends. During the week the same crowd hangs out there with shiny macs, being incredibly important and brilliant. Not to mention cleverly dressed. Tossers the lot of them, if you ask me.

But it's the place to be if you want to fawn over movie stars passing through Iceland or dance in a throng of drunken Icelandic hipsters. Not quite as sleazy as Sirkus, but pretty close. And since the pretty girls wanted to go there, so did I.

There was no queue for a change, but we had to stand outside in the cold and wait a bit anyway. While we waited Harpa suddenly remembered that she really wanted to shag one of the guys from the party and ran off to his house to make that happen. Oddly conveniant, I wondered whether the girls had planned it. I wouldn't put it past them.

So I had Rosa all to my drunken self in Kaffibarinn at 4 in the morning.

We were both pretty drunk, but I figured another pint each was probably an excellent idea all the same. At the bar I got distracted by a coworker for a bit, but at the first polite opportunity Rosa put her hand in mine and whispered to me "let's go somewhere we can be alone". I let her lead me to the dance floor.

And we danced.

Smiles, eye contact, we moved around each other, together. I put a hand on her hip, the other on her elbow, keeping contact and slowly bringing her closer and closer to me, until we were pressed against each other from knees to nipples.

I knew she could feel my erection digging into her thigh, but I didn't care. She didn't seem to either.

We danced, and we kissed.

I knew I had to have her in my bed. I just had to see her naked, touch her and taste her, smell her. I pulled her closer and spoke into her ear as our bodies kept moving in time to the music.

"I have a somewhat odd proposition for you. I'd like to take you home, but I'm afraid I can't have sex with you. And I'm afraid I have to get up very early in the morning too, a friend is coming over and I promised to make her breakfast... and then I have work. So it's not a very good invitation. But I would like to invite you over all the same."

I was shocked and amazed that she said yes. We went home.

I was pleasantly surprised how good her pussy tasted.

It was her turn to be surprised when my fingers and tongue brought her to orgasm.

As we cuddled afterwards, she asked me why I wouldn't fuck her. My erection wasn't exactly lacking, I had told her I was single. She didn't get it. So I told her why.

That's when she totally blew me away.

"That's all? I had warts a couple of years ago, they're no big deal. Where's a condom?"

And just like that, she ended my celibacy and ruined my carefully constructed complexes of frustration and self-pity.

How did I get to be so lucky?

I felt a sense of wonder as I watched her impale herself on my erection, pressing her lovely tits together and moving up and down on me, giving me what I've been aching for for what seems like an eternity now.

I remember a time when it would never have occurred to me that I could have such a beautiful girl in my bed. Let alone under circumstances like these.

And yet there she was, riding me, slowly but surely coaxing the cum out of me and relishing every moment of it. I held back as long as I could, gazing at her perfect body, loving how her pussy felt on me. I just wanted to last forever. But I couldn't, she made me come, hard, gasping and digging my fingers into her hips.

And then we did it again.

And again.

And now I can't wait until next weekend! I'm back!!