Wednesday, January 31, 2007

clones

Sometimes I wish I could clone myself. Follow more than one path. More than two.

Saturday, the night after I almost-but-not-quite had some sort of threesome, I was out again. And somehow, yet again, I bumped into that same blonde that I've been seeing now and again. I had asked her name the night before. I think I can pronounce it, but I'm not sure how to spell it. Deesa, or something like that.

As I went out I texted Rosa, just to see if she was out. No reply, but I've decided that doesn't mean anything much since most people are more absent-minded about their phones than I am.

First person I see in the bar is Deesa.

And then I get a text. But it's not from Rosa, it's an old flame from back home. Someone I'd love to shag again, but can't really, because aside from being in the wrong country, she's recently married. But, in spite of that, she texted me.

"how r u, iceland boy? am on train from galway, reminded me of u."

We met on that train. I remember how her elbows touched mine, how she sat just a little too close as we talked. How we met for dinner that evening and ended up in her tiny room, fucking until morning.

Such a loaded message.

"I'm grand. Train from Galway, aye? Good times! Hope you're well, give Pete my best."

Pete's her man.

Deesa was looking at me. I put the phone away and ignored the buzzing of the reply. We talked, I bought us both drinks. As the small-talk progressed, as I flirted, as I touched her arm and grinned my fuck-me grin, the back of my mind was following different paths.

I'd love to go back home, follow up on that text. I was always disappointed that she got away. She wouldn't be messaging me like that if those nights we had together hadn't made an impression. What if?

What if I had replied to Rosa's text last night? Would I have ended up in her arms? Would I be in her arms still? I wished I had.

And yet I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Deesa's hand on mine, her smile lighting up the room. Her cleavage distracting my eyes from her face. Part of me thinking she may be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. For now anyway. Older than she looks, actually my age. Not many girls are that hot at 30. Curves and maturity, that amazing Icelandic look of youth. They all look like kids here. And this kiddo has her hands and eyes on me.

Later that evening I sneak a look at my phone, turns out that message wasn't from my Irish lady friend, it was from Rosa. She's at Kaffibarinn again, I'm at Sirkus. I don't feel like moving.

I need more of me. One to be here. One to chase Rosa. One still playing the field in Ireland. One that made all the right decisions and moves and kept Maria. One that never got divorced. One that never got married.

The one of me here, was drunk. Dancing.

Deesa in my arms, dancing, spinning around and bumping into people, not quite spilling our beers. Or theirs.

When the world stops spinning, we're in my bed.

She's not wearing anything, I'm between her legs, my face all wet and my tongue on her clit. Her back is arched, a pillow between her teeth and covering most of her face. I slide a finger into her and use it to tell her body to come to me, for me.

Come here. I move my finger as I lick her clit harder, then relax both.

Come here. Harder, relax.

Come, lick, relax.

We fall into the rythm of it and soon I can feel her stomach muscles pulsating, her pussy grabbing my finger gently. She whimpers.

Come here.

Her hips buck, her pussy mashing into my face. I can't breathe, but for now that doesn't matter. I try my best not to lose the rhythm, to keep her moving, keep her gasping like that. She comes, crying out, pushing against me and then curling up in a vulnerable ball of girl.

I move to kiss her lips and eyelids, hold her as she relaxes and comes down.

We'd earlier discussed my warts, I knew she wasn't going to fuck me. Through my drunkenness I vaguely remembered her sucking me off. Or at least having a taste.

As we fell asleep, I drunkenly wondered what my clones were up to.

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Sunday, January 28, 2007

partner in crime

My flatmate's party, the flirting at Kaffibarinn, that was all last weekend. Now another weekend has passed and I'm behind in writing about what's been going on. I've been busy, and if anything I'm even more confused now than I was before. Hopefully writing about it will help me work through things.

But, on with the story while I still have access to the laptop...

--

Turns out the toasting was all a little premature. Rosa never actually made it all the way back to us, she got mobbed by friends, distracted and swept away. Soon after, Karl got bored and left.

I was still lurking around, hoping to see her but ended up leaving the bar too and heading to Sirkus to see if any of the others from the party were there. The queue wasn't moving, the weather sucked and I eventually just headed home, drunk and tired.

As I walked I got a text message from her, but I didn't feel like responding. I was pretty disappointed.

But we were probably all too drunk for that sort of thing anyway and now that a few days have passed, I'm more intrigued than disappointed. I find that sort of slutty behavior very attractive.

I'd love to have a "partner in crime" like her.

I'm still not sure what to do about the flatmate situation though.

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Sunday, January 28, 2007

fleshbotted harder

I think Jefferson likes me.

He keeps fleshbotting me! I like it.

Hey fleshbotters, welcome! Might as well take advantage of the you: I'll be visiting Glasgow next weekend, if anyone wants to recommend something sexy to do there I'd be much obliged. E-mail or comments, whatever tickles yer fancy.

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Sunday, January 28, 2007

why not?

So, my escape from the smokers' party was foiled by the blonde's request for a drink. I took my time finding it though, wandered around the downstairs party, checking who had showed up while I was upstairs. Plenty of people. Plenty of chicks.

I was feeling a bit conflicted. Part of me just really wanted to get Rosa into bed again, but I was worried about my flatmate and from our last encounter I knew she liked my player aspect. So making the most of my opportunity with the blonde was a good strategy either way.

One thing I've learned, is you concentrate on one girl at a time, or you end up with none. On the other hand... I've also learned not over-analyze things. So I just grabbed some beers and went back up to see which way the wind would blow me.

I didn't end up going back down. Rosa and the blonde sat next to each other, chatting. I leaned against the opposite wall, sipped my beer and looked slyly at them. Now and again I'd take part in one of the conversations around me, but mostly I listened and watched, enjoying the glances they took turns making and the feeling that I was in control and could have either one I wanted. I was beginning to toy with the idea of having them both.

Just as I exchanged yet another meaningful glance with Rosa, my flatmate showed up in the door. He was pretty drunk, but he also seemed a little bent out of shape. I think he noticed the way Rosa was looking at me. He said something odd and then announced that he was leaving, heading downtown. We could do as we damn well pleased. Then he turned off the bathroom light and disappeared down the stairs.

Ouch.

We switched the light back on, the night went on. But it had all gone a bit sour and soon afterwards the party broke up and headed downtown.

Me and some of the others from congregated in Kaffibarinn. For me it was the obvious choice, that's where both Rosa and the blonde were headed, that's where Rosa and I hooked up last time. Trendy girls, rock'n'roll guys, beer and music. It was a happenin' place that night. I bumped into one of my other mates near the bar, bought him a beer. Let's call him Karl. Karl and I exchanged jokes and conversation for a while, until Rosa showed up and took a position between the two of us. It was crowded, she couldn't help but rub against me.

Her scent and presence had me sporting a stiffy pretty quickly. I played cool, acted like nothing was up, kept chatting with the both of them. But Rosa only had one of her hands on the bar, the other was on my knee, my thigh, stroking the bulge I was pretending wasn't there. Naughty girl.

I had forgotten all about the blonde.

As the conversation went on, Rosa stopped feeling me up, but turned a bit so her pert little bottom was pressed against my erection. She was facing Karl, talking to him. I discreetly put one of my hands on her hip, slid it under her top and caught my breath as I felt the warm, toned skin of her stomach. She wriggled just a little bit, letting me know she liked my hand there.

I had forgotten all about my flatmate.

Another beer, more talk. It slowly dawned on me that I wasn't the only one getting attention from the girl. Karl was standing pretty close to her as well and as before, Rosa had one of her hands out of sight. But it wasn't touching me. I began to suspect it was touching him... and when Rosa headed off to the loo I asked my friend what was up. Sure enough, her hands had been all over him, and he knew she was flirting with me at the same time. I was suitably impressed.

"She's quite a handful," he grinned.

"Yeah. Shall we give her what she wants? I'm up for it if you are."

He paused. Thought about it. Neither of us had ever been in that sort of situation together.

"Fuck it, why not? Fuck her, in fact," he replied.

We raised our beers and banged 'em together, just as I noticed her making her way through the crowd towards us again.

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Monday, January 22, 2007

party

I sat in the living room with my flatmate, a bunch of our mutual friends gathered around to drink with us. On the coffee table there was a growing pile of empty pizza boxes, beer cans, bottles and dirty glasses. The laptop I've been borrowing sat in the corner playing random songs from Flatmate's mp3 collection. An hour or two, maybe three, and people would run out of drinks and start heading downtown in search of more.

Rosa hadn't shown up, but oddly enough the blonde I'd been fantasizing about earlier this week was there. Friend of a friend, this is such a tiny town. I had my charm on and was getting to know her a bit, making it clear I found her interesting. She flirted back like a champ. I liked where things were headed.

Every once in a while the doorbell would ring and more people would join the party, it soon fragmented as they always do into a kitchen party, the living room party and the smokers up stairs, sitting together on the edge of the bath tub and smoking out the window. I was up there with them for a while, mostly chasing the blonde but also on the off chance that someone would pass around a joint.

Most of the conversations were in English, not only for my benefit, but because there seem to be a lot of foreigners in this town. Exchange students and people who've just decided this is the place for them. Every once in a while people would lapse into Icelandic, but during the past few months I've begun to understand a little bit. I was usually able to follow the gist of things, which made me feel pretty good.

When my beer was empty I abandoned the smokers and went back downstairs for more. Guess who had turned up in the meantime? Rosa! She was chatting away with my flatmate, and she was lovely. I felt awkward, I could tell from the way my flatmate was behaving that he was totally into her. He was at his most charming, telling tall tales and making her laugh.

I retreated back up the stairs before she noticed me. Chicken.

One of the girls in the bathroom party had decided it was too hot and had taken her top off. After all, her bra wasn't any more revealing than a bikini anyway, she claimed. And she was hot. Sure... I grinningly encouraged the blonde to follow suit, but she was a bit more reserved. Laughs and banter and innuendo ensued. Someone brought beer up from downstairs.

And then Rosa joined us.

Of course, I thought to myself, she smokes.

We exchanged hellos, smiles. I tried not to act too familiar, tried not to make it obvious to the whole room that the image of her naked frame on my cock was flashing before my eyes. She was similarly cautious, but you could probably have cut the tension with a knife. I was already thinking about how to get her into bed again... or maybe I should play it cool? Be a little hard to get? Maybe I should keep working on the blonde?

Instead I just prepared to escape again, headed back downstairs "to get another drink".

The blonde asked me to bring her something too.

Okay...

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Friday, January 19, 2007

questions

Will I ever be a dad? In what ways will it change me? Will I become just like my own dad? What would my life be like if my mistress hadn't miscarried all those years ago?

Will I ever taste another man's cock? Will I like it? Will I ever let some guy do me in the ass? Will I like it?

Will I ever find a girl who wants to be mine? Will I be able to hang up my players' hat and just be hers as well? Will I be able to resist the temptations I've spent the past few years learning to recognize? Will I stop judging and looking down my nose at people who cheat... and become one of them?

Will I ever be fully rid of my warts? Does the fact that I haven't found any for a couple of months mean I'm cured? When do I have to stop warning girls about them before sex?

And...

Will I see Rosa this weekend? Is this a beginning?

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Monday, January 15, 2007

complications

So, a month ago I met this girl, Rosa. I've really only seen her once since then, since I went home to Ireland for the holidays. But we've exchanged the occasional flirtatious text message and I'll probably see her again next weekend. I'm a bit excited about that!

There's a catch though. A very frustrating one, in fact. I'll probably see her next weekend because my flatmate is throwing a party and he's invited her. Turns out they've been friends for a while and I suspect he wants more then just to be friends.

After our romp back last month, she asked me to be discreet about having been with her. She said she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Flatmate's feelings.

But I want her in my bed again...

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Sunday, January 14, 2007

practice

I stood under the shower washing and thinking about last night. The warm water felt good on my skin, the soap nice and slippery. My penis wasn't quite as relaxed as the rest of me.

I'd overheard a conversation at the bar the night before. Girls chattering away as they do, but this group was discussing blow-job technique. They'd had enough drinks that they were forgetting to be quiet about it. I listened and looked, thought about offering one of them a chance to practice. Preferably the curvy little blonde.

As I washed I thought about that some more.

I thought about taking her to visit the cute couple on the 2nd floor. Thought about having drinks with them, smoking a joint, putting a porn flick on...

Letting the girls practice on both of us.

I lathered up and stroked my now hard, erect cock. I covered myself in shower gel, using it as lube, sliding my fist up and down. Slowly at first.

I closed my eyes and imagined my neighbor's girlfriend asking my date if she would mind trading places for a while.

I imagined watching the blonde wrap her lips around my neighbor's cock while his girl licked me up and down.

My strokes got faster. As did my breathing.

I thought about the two of them kissing on the floor, mouths full of our cum.

I came.

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