The State of Your Dating Profile

I get a lot of mail, most of it pleasant and some of it actually delightful. I get contacted by guys for loads of reasons but mostly advice. Or Abbi does.

Sometimes I get asked too. A recent suitor on OkCupid who was way below my age threshold asked me for feedback. I was unsure if I could give any, I replied, seeing as I wouldn’t consider myself the target audience. He countered that no one was the target audience as it didn’t seem to be working on anyone, and any advice he could get from a bona fide girl had to be better than none.

While I can’t argue with that, I was less than enthused, he wanted me to go through his profile and tell him where he was going wrong. And while pointing out a strangers flaws might seem like great craic, I was about to waste a whole load of time for what?

But I’m sound so I did it. And what do you think I got in return? He ignored all my suggestions and suggested reasons why he had stated what he did or included the photos that he did. I magnanimously admitted that I could see his logic but assured him that it was indeed false. He insisted.

So eventually I left him to it.

Why bother asking for advice when you have no intention of listening to any of it?

 

Anyway, here are a few things that generally girls think are lame on guys dating profiles. (Ok, me, just this one girl)

 

You in a photo with a hot model who looks uncomfortable. How are you all getting access to these girls? Or even you with a hot female friend, this does not create desire or suggest social validation. It just annoys us and we can’t picture ourselves in the scene if you’ve already filled it with someone else. Especially if that other girl looks nothing like us. Think about it, do you want to see a hot dude in the pics with the girls you’re trying to match with?

 

Next off, you in group shots. It really isn’t that hard to crop a photo, the function exists on EVERY phone and on EVERY app that you’re trying to load them to. Once again it does not display social validity it just annoys us that we can’t pick you out.

 

You on, in, near or next to a motorbike or car that clearly isn’t yours. What do you think that says about you? Don’t answer, I don’t care, but I can tell you that it seems lame to most girls. Oh Here’s this thing that I don’t own but I’m pretending that I do. Really guys, you might as well be sitting on a Bob the Builder coin operated one in a shopping centre as far as we’re concerned.

 

Pictures where you’re hiding your face. Why would you do that? It’s not clever or mysterious. It’s just annoying. And subliminally it sends the message that you think your face isn’t that great.

This applies to ski gear, balaclavas, costumes or anything that hides over 50% over your head. It’s not showing you up to be some kinda gas ticket.

 

Photos of you with kids. Admit it, what are these doing here. Honestly, why are you including shots of you with kids? There’s a reason even if you’re not conscious of it. If they’re your kids then we’re thinking it’s pretty awful to be putting them on a dating website. If they’re not yours then you definitely shouldn’t be using their image on a dating website. And we don’t need a pic of you with a kid to tell us you’re ‘sensitive’ or boyfriend material. It only works when we see it in real life.

 

And for the love of jesus don’t open with:

Hey

Hi

Hello Gorgeous, hello sexy, Hot stuff or any of the like

Kiss, wink, smiley face, love heart

And don’t open with asking to marry me – surprisingly it’s not as original as you think. And certainly not as charming.

 

Please don’t say ‘Wow, you’re stunning and I just wanted to say so’. It isn’t the big compliment that you think it is. What it actually translates to is: I haven’t read anything on your profile and I’m chancing my arm. I don’t care about anything except that I think that you’re hot. Or, we’re just thinking that you’re throwing as much shit out there and just seeing what sticks.

It’s not offensive, it’s just not that likely to garner much success for you.

 

Don’t ask how is the site treating you. Who gives a shit! So what, how it’s going, let’s not draw attention to the fact we’re on a dating website talking to loads of other suitors – it’s terrible and great at different times. And talking about other dates is not a great conversation starter. Or indeed a rapport generator.

 

Don’t ignore any out and out hard limits. You know the message that goes like this ‘Hey I know your profile said you weren’t looking for [insert any reason at all] but I just thought I’d say HI anyway’. What impression do you think this gives us? That it’s so flattering that you found us so attractive that you were willing to blatantly ignore our explicit requests? This is not flattering, this is telling us you couldn’t give a fuck about what we think or need.

 

And definitely don’t ever ask what a girl like me is doing on a dating site, or how come I’m single. I’m here for the same fecking reason you are, you dope. Because I haven’t met the right person yet.

 

 

And there you have it, my top tips for dating sites. Mostly if I suppose you are just trying to attract me to you!

How Do I Feel About Come

After the last guest piece I’ve been thinking about cum play. And I got asked to submit a piece for kink of the week…. Unfortunately I wholly failed as I was around the country and busy holding together a heart that seemed determined to burst* and while I’ve really desperately wanted to do this, I haven’t had the chance. Or really the ability to make any words come out.

So this piece won’t get included but I’m going to talk about cum play anyway.

 

Well first off how do I feel about come? I’m a fan, I like the taste and I love the smell and especially love the feel of it. But not everywhere. I don’t want my partner to come on my face. It’s just not something that I enjoy at all. I can’t get past the idea that it’s somewhat of a degrading act  –  and I’m not averse to ‘degrading’ acts – some of the things I want guys to do to me certainly would fit that description for others. But for me, personally, I don’t find it hot. It’s one of the only things I’ll say no to. And honestly I’d be disappointed if I explained this to someone and they were to insist that they still wanted it. It would be more of a turn off if someone were to ignore my limits than even the act itself.

But that’s the only thing I don’t want to do with it. I most certainly do want it in my mouth. I for sure want it on my tits, or across my back or deep inside me. Here’s a little disclaimer that I probably shouldn’t admit; I can’t feel it when a guy comes inside me. I have to trust that he’s not faking it (or indeed know him well enough that I know he isn’t) but as for feeling it shoot inside me? No chance. Not once. I’ll know when it runs out of me or gathers in my knickers and makes a big stain on the bed.

The first blow job I gave, I swallowed and that set the tone for me for the rest of my life. I liked it but soon discovered that I needed to keep that to myself as girls weren’t supposed to and if they did, they shut up about it and never told me. So I shut up and pretended the same.

But I didn’t care, this is how I liked it and there was never, ever an argument from the guys I was with. So what if it seemed like I was the only girl who did and I couldn’t tell anyone.

 

I’m not sure I like it anywhere as much as in my mouth and those formative years could be why. But I do like being with someone I can trust and knowing that when they get close I can grab their arse, squeeze it and pull him deeper into me to finish there. I love the idea of that. And of course knowing that it’s going to fill my knickers later. (I’m not sure when I started doing this, I don’t even know another girl who does it, but soon after he’s come inside me I grab my knickers and put them back on – to catch his come. The wetter they get the better. It’s just a little foible of mine so it seems)

But really what I love is when he’s deep inside me, pumping hard and he tells me he’s gonna come but he pulls out, tells me to get on my knees and finishes in my mouth. Fuck me if I don’t absolutely love that move. To feel him shoot it into my mouth or right back my throat, with his cock throbbing and so I can milk every last drop out of him – I love the surprise of that as much as the satisfaction of having made him come solely from a blow job. Only problem is how much it turns me on and how much I want to be fucked afterwards.

 

 

I haven’t done much come play – I talk about it with partners, and they always say they want it (most of them) but the reality, so I’ve found, is that as soon as they’ve come they have no interest in anything at all. In the universe. Let alone continuing with any sexual tasks. So on a few occasions I’ve held come in my mouth looking at them to see if they want it…. They have been oblivious.

So I raised this with my most frequent of lover and he reluctantly admitted that he thinks that he would need a few minutes to gather himself before he could muster interest. But to his credit he did offer this solution which I am dying to try.

He wants to make me come, no surprise there, it’s how he always starts, then he wants to fuck me reverse cow girl. He’s sitting upright, on the couch me facing away but able to leverage with my feet on the floor. I work him up and down as he gets full view of my ass. Then I grind onto him to make him come, hopefully I can make myself come again as this is a good catalyst for him. When I’m done I lift myself off him and give him a minute or two, rest up on the couch beside him. And eventually when he’s caught his breath we start kissing, he dips his fingers in my cunt and starts circling my clit again. He slides them right in trying to get his come on them, which he then slides into my mouth. When all of this gets him hard again he wants me to stand over him, my cunt just over his face and let his come drip into his open mouth.

We haven’t done this but I can picture the look on his face, his hand on his dick, my legs either side of him as he catches it all. When he has it, I kiss him and he passes it back to me. Then I sit on his mouth and make him lick me clean. Stopping to kiss him again so we both keep tasting it until it’s gone. Then I’ll work myself on his face until he makes me come again.

 

This is my new fantasy. This is the one I am now craving.

 

 

 

*let’s not talk about it, I’ll be grand soon.

Guest Piece – First Time

I’m not entirely sure how to introduce this. I was sent this a while back – actually I’ve been sent a few nice pieces that I haven’t gotten around to posting. If you’ve sent me something, I am getting to it. I’m sorry I’ve been rubbish

 

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Its 4pm on a Saturday and I’m anxious. I’ve been anxious since Monday and I haven’t had much sleep. The line for the bus is full and in a few minutes we will all lose any sense that there was a line to begin with. (There are a few senior citizens that could do with the seat you’ve booked), I tell myself. My first mental crack. (Stop it! You’re getting on this bus…….they have free travel passes anyway…what are they doing clogging up my fucking cheap transport?). I smile…my first smile of the day….until the bus comes into view and I lose it again. Somethings up. The bus is full. I sigh. (This isn’t our bus and I’m going to walk away). Full doubt is in my mind at this point and this will be the breaking point for me to walk away and make an excuse. “Sorry folks! The 4pm bus is…..um broken down and another will be with you in a half hour or so. Apologies for the inconvenience.” Behind me I can hear the collapsed line grumble and complain. I’ve long since walked away.

I have a fear of intimacy. The reasons of which I won’t go into but let me assure you that they are deeply seeded through unfortunate circumstances. I’ve struggled with it for a long time but always kept on top of it mentally because I like who I am. I’m comfortable being me. I’m thoughtful. I’m level headed. I’m funny. I’m some people’s definition of attractive. I’m a good person. I know this and will have no issue saying it to you with any fear that you might think I’m arrogant or self-centred. I don’t use anything I think of myself to bring people down and never will. My fear of intimacy had begun to cloud anything I thought about myself and I had felt that it was time to put myself out there, even if it wasn’t going to be the conventional route. Openness and honesty with myself and someone I felt would listen is a fine way to start. Through that, the moment came last Monday when the girl I had been open and honest with invited me to her place for drinks. I had not been expecting it at all despite our conversations steadily accelerating the notion that it might happen…..and that’s why I’ve been anxious since Monday.

I had strolled a good bit away from the bus stop and walked into Tesco purely to get in out of the rain. (I need to go back and get on that bus), I reminded myself. (She said if we didn’t do it now it might never happen and you are doing everything to fuck this up). I became suddenly aware that I was staring blankly out into the rain. (You are only going for drinks and you are foolishly allowing yourself to view it as more). I take out my phone and type the most affirmative thing I’ve written all week. -Bus running late….as may I. What’s your secret address?-. She had not told it to me yet and I expected to be quite forthcoming with it at this stage. Sending the text message had set me off on a jog around the aisles. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket as soon as I found the aisle I was looking for. Its arrival would confirm to me how much trust she placed in me to just arrive at her house without ever speaking to her. I read her address and grabbed her favourite chocolates off the shelf.

During the bus journey I start drinking some vodka. My nerves need to be settled. She had mentioned that she felt like she had ambushed me with the invite and that her main worry was that we wouldn’t have anything to talk about. She was inviting someone she didn’t know straight into her house. It was a legitimate worry and now was my main thought for the past few days. We had talked about this date and I was fully aware of what it is and what it isn’t. I wasn’t sure I was ready for it to be a silent disaster. I couldn’t think of a thing to talk about, that’s not how natural conversations go. -How are you getting on? I’m only just home- she texts….referring to the bus situation. -I’m freaking out!- I send back…referring to my complete lack of topics I had prepared. She doesn’t get it..How could she have?. Her “ambush” was a much needed push and the conversation we had on the bus just a reminder that I was doing the right thing.

-How much time do I have? Ballpark?-. I had just got off the bus. -30 mins- I sent back. She had way less but I knew I would have to gather myself at the door. The taxi journey took 20 minutes and sure enough I was gathering myself at the door. (You’re gonna be fine). I knocked on the door and waited. She opened it with a smile. (Fuck me, she is stunning…..fuck me, I’m already at ease). I walk on into the kitchen and steady myself. “How are you doing?” she says firmly with a smile. I can only assume she is referring to my nerves. “I’m fine” I say with a smile…..it was half the truth anyway. “You can take your bag off!” she points out. I had completely forgotten. I inexplicably place it on the table. (That was dumb), I scold myself. “You look well” she compliments. “Thank you, so do you”. “Drink?” she says as she turns to the fridge. (YEEES!) “I will actually, yes”. My mind eases. She is a breeze to chat to.

The night’s conversation didn’t seem forced. It was flowing. I said stupid things I regret like insulting her perfectly fine fireplace decoration and TV purely by just blurting things out before thinking. I’m sure she gathered when I was comfortable and when I wasn’t but I didn’t care how I came across at that stage. I was making her laugh. She was making me laugh. We were getting drunk and I was delighted that I had taken the decision to chat instead of watching a film. This was exactly what I had wanted and anything extra would be a bonus. We take shots. Music is on. I have no idea if she expects me to make a move but I’m quietly confident in my surroundings. I had gone through a lot of beer but I was still holding it together. We head upstairs.

I know I didn’t stay hard at the right times in bed that night but she knows fine well it had nothing to do with her. It was my first time. It happens. We both went down on each other and it would prove to be perfect tee-up for the morning. She lay back on the bed. My eyes traced her body as I knelt in close to her. If my cock got any harder it would shatter. Only one thought is going through my mind and that is to have her writhing around on the bed with my fingers deep inside her. I start to lick lips as I start to slide off her knickers. (Maybe I’m doing this too soon…….live and learn). I slide one finger inside her and face my palm to the ceiling. I locate her g-spot and she is moving already. I bring my mouth down to her clit and dive in. I can barely breathe with how fast my tongue and heart are going. I get a second finger in and glance up at her again. She’s writhing. I’m smiling. She has no idea how she has just singlehandedly kick-started a love affair with going down. I foolishly stop and lose some of my erection trying something else. I will come to regret this.

Later she is climbing back into bed and I had caught a glimpse of her figure with the light from outside. My cock is already throbbing and I let her know by guiding her hand over to it. She quickly grabs it and has it in her mouth before I can think. I can’t think. The pleasure running down through my cock and across my body is instant. She twists and slides my foreskin up and down. I can feel her tongue glide down my shaft and she takes me fully back her throat. It’s an indescribable feeling. I won’t last long. She is doing exactly what needs to get what she wants and there is no stopping her. My heart beats faster…”Imgonnacome” I say through my breath as I make the feeling die down. But it didn’t matter, it rose again and I let out a moan. My cock explodes in her mouth. Her mouth tightens around shaft allowing me to feel every throb and each load of cum travel through it and back her throat. She wasn’t going to leave a drop inside me. She pulls away and gasps. “I swallowed it all, sorry”. I had expressed an interest in cum play but right now she had no need to apologize. I could barely move.

The next morning I made the decision that I had to make the first move. I slid my hand down her belly and onto her clit. I rubbed it a few time before entering her. I’m relishing this. There is nothing simpler and yet so stunning than quietly watching someone get off because of you. She grabs my hand and tastes my fingers and bring it back down to her clit. I can clearly hear how wet she is, never mind feeling it. She is writhing. I’ll never tire of that image. I increase my speed. She arches her back. My cock is straining against my briefs. She comes quietly, back arched, mouth open. As I said, there is nothing better to watch. She’s on fire now. She grabs my cock in her mouth and I’m instantly feeling last night all over again. Her tongue travels down to my balls. She is noticeably gentle with them. (She remembered) Getting on top of me she asks what I want. I vote sex and I’m instantly delighted that it had not happened the night before. We are both sober now and in this moment it feels perfect. It couldn’t have played out better. She lifts herself up and twists her hand around to guide my cock inside her. I can’t help but notice that, in my view, it’s a tight squeeze. She lets herself glide down and rests herself on my balls. I put my hands on her thighs and squeeze as she begins to arch back and grind me. My cock is angled away from me and I’ve never felt it being worked this way before. There is no way I could last with this view. I come hard watching her. “Did you come?” she asks. “Yes”, I say, suddenly realizing that I should have let her know. “Then why didn’t you say?” she scolds. “Sorry”, I say with a smile. (You idiot), I say to myself.

 

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Certainly wish my first time had been as nice.

Edging

We’re going for a drink. This never happens, going for drinks is not what we do. Going out at all is not what we do. But I have to see this band and I of course want to see him.

It’s been about a month. I haven’t had sex and neither has he so it seems.

He stands behind me as we watch the band, proprietorial and slightly protective, making sure no one bangs off me, but also making sure that no one can see what he’s up to.

Standing right up behind me, he presses himself into my arse. I can feel him rubbing himself against me; this isn’t for him, he is not gratifying himself, it’s for me. It’s to tell me how much he wants me, it’s to tell me he’s already hard.

My dress is short and he has no trouble lifting it and getting into my tights and knickers. He reaches through my legs and pulls my whole cunt back towards him. When he’s satisfied himself with how wet I am through my underwear he starts to give me something. He rubs his thumb back and forth over the lips. He’s close into my neck but I don’t know if he can feel my sharp intakes of breath, but he can certainly fee me push back into him, making access as easy as possible.

I don’t stop him, or pull away or adjust anything. He’s gotten my assent he can take this further – he reads me so well.

Circling my clit and then trying to push the lips open further I realise he’s not going to stop, he wants me to come, here, in public, in this crowd. I’m not into public displays, I don’t get off on it but I want him so much and his hands are so deft all those concerns don’t surface, I just stand and have him do what he wants to me.

 

People brush off us, we have to stop a few times, but each time he goes back to it, and edges me closer. I start to get worried that I’m going to come. Little noises escape my mouth and yet I can’t stop, I still feel it building. This shouldn’t be working, but it is. The next time we’re broken apart I go to the toilet and take off my knickers. I’m still wearing tights, relax.

When I come back I hand them to him, not one to ever miss a beat he has them fully secured in his fist and is raising it to his mouth to smell them before I’ve even leaned in to tell him.

He keeps this up for a bit then sticks them in his pocket, and returns his hands to my cunt.

 

It’s not an ideal angle for fingering, standing behind me, but he’s managing to do it, to rub and swell and stimulate exactly what I need. I’ve never managed to be aroused in venue full of people before. I keep thinking it will end but it doesn’t. He keeps me on the precipice for ages.

 

I don’t come. But only because I couldn’t trust myself not to make noise. I stop him.

 

We stay and have more drinks. He doesn’t want to leave and I do. I need release I need him to finish the job.

 

When we get back to the hotel I am agitated and I want to be made come straight away. And out of character (literally) I breathlessly ask him to go down on me. He stops in his tracks, pulls my head up near his mouth and threateningly says ‘Don’t you ever tell me how to fuck you again’. Not the quiet, calm super villain menace that I usually get, this had real aggression in it, even though it too wasn’t shouted. And I fucking loved it. It made my cunt ache and slicken for him even more.

I would never have guessed that those words would have worked on me. I would have said no, if someone had said would I like them. But in the heat of the moment, with him – dominant perfection.

 

He then drags me to the bed and starts to fuck with me.

I don’t know what we do but it works towards me being made come with his fingers and mouth. Just as I am reaching the peak, I tell him. I say it twice, possibly three times, he waits til I’m sure and then he stops. Stops completely.

I cry out, close to actual tears and start to breathlessly repeat the same sentence, heaving trying to get the words out, all of them running into each other ‘Whywhywhywhywould’ ‘No, why,whywhy?’ ‘But I’m, I’m, I am, I was …… whhhhhhyyyyyyyy’

I am really nearly crying and so aroused and confused. But I see him waver for the first time ever he’s not sure if I really am going to burst into tears (I’m not sure he could cope with that) and he says, in the most unsure voice I have ever experienced from him ‘I did it on purpose, it’s going to be so much better when I edge you further and you finally get to come’

I remain unconvinced and distraught, almost. And he gets on with his plan, to start again. He comes back up the bed and holds me, starts kissing again, rubs his solid cock along the wet edges of the lips of my pussy and I am wholly aroused again. And he goes back to eating me.

I don’t know how long but when I do get close again, I don’t make the mistake of telling him again – I’m not letting him do that again I’ve been on edge for hours!

 

And I do come, magnificently on his tongue and fingers. And I think he’s genuinely annoyed with me! Not for long but he wanted to do it 4 times. Yeah right! Like I was gonna let you do that again. He tries to convince me that after 4 times I’d have had the greatest orgasm ever but no dice. I don’t even know where my next one is coming from and I’m not about to starve myself.

 

When I’m not insane from arousal, I can see his point. I can see how he does these things purely to satisfy me not just to tease me. But in that moment…. It’s so hard to submit to someone’s masterplan.