Looking for Love

I don’t tend to make New Year Resolutions, I find that for me they just lead to failure. I always have various goals I am working towards anyway. One of the things I was thinking about was my hopes for 2015, I was planning a blog post around it but this one thing I kept coming back to felt like it deserved a post all of its own.

‘Cause love only comes
Once in a while
And knocks on your door
And throws you a smile
And takes every breath,
Leaves every scar,
Speaks through your soul
And sings to your heart

If I Knew Then – Lady Antebellum

My biggest hope for 2015 is to find love, the kind that’s forever and real – I’ve had it before so I know it exists. This last decade has been a bit horrendous; guy after guy who treated me as if I was something shameful, a secret to be kept hidden, good enough to fuck behind closed doors but not to be seen with in public. With one or two guys you can say it’s them, but after so many you have to start to wonder if you’re not the problem. And so I started to believe that’s all I deserved, that I wasn’t good enough to have love like other people get, I wasn’t smart enough, or pretty enough, or sexy enough, or funny enough, or whatever enough. Whatever it was that meant a guy would love you, I didn’t have it and therefore I couldn’t be loved. I still kind of think that.

I want a guy who wants me, who will make me a priority, who will have my back, who will not only return my messages but message me without me having to text first. A guy who isn’t just looking for sex. Who isn’t going to lie to me, or tell me what I want to hear disguised as the truth. I’ve seen honest faces before, and they usually come attached to liars. If you’re just looking for someone to fuck please move on, I’m not your girl. I’m an all or nothing sort of girl, no matter what the situation I am going to care about you, and every unanswered message, unreturned call, or last-minute change of plans cuts straight to my heart. And it can only take so many cuts before it breaks.

I want a relationship, not saying it has to be exclusive, but your heart has to be mine, and mine alone. Like mine would be yours. You have to be willing to be there for me, because I would be there for you. You need to be willing to risk your heart, because I’m risking mine. I’m willing to put everything into it, so you should too.

Ok, admittedly, part of me is going “OMG I need to have some decent sex this year.” But for the most part I’m not looking for someone just to fuck. In all honesty I kinda feel if that’s all I wanted I’d be pretty well set, in fact judging by my twitter there would be a queue. But I’m not interested; I’ve been to the carnival, ridden the ride, and got the shirt. Contrary to popular belief I’m not just great tits and a cunt, there’s a person with feelings attached. I am done with being that girl. So if you just fancy a fuck, do me a favour; step back, get out of the queue and leave me be.

I’m looking for a guy who actually deserves me.

 

*Disclaimer – None of this is said with any one in particular in mind so if you know you chat to me and think I mean you maybe it’s your own guilty conscience.  

Exhibitionist?

I’ve never really thought of myself as an exhibitionist; I don’t get off on the idea of people watching me have sex, in fact it fills me with a kind of dread. That many people seeing me naked and writhing. Urgh. But then I post naked photos of myself on here and on twitter.

Or maybe a little bit of me is an exhibitionist, because I enjoy it when people like my photos, or when they comment, even if it’s just “nice tits” or “so sexy”. I get a little thrill. I also seem to have a thing for getting semi-naked and doing ‘naughty’ things in cars, which I think is definitely a little bit exhibitionist. I get caught up in the moment; enjoying the fact that I’m sucking a lovely hard cock, and completely forgetting that I’m in a car, in view of anyone who walks past. Maybe it’s more uninhibited than exhibitionist. Either way I have fun, and should the opportunity arise in the future I don’t see things being any different, same goes for picnic blankets, and standing against trees, alley walls, etc. The only outdoor place I don’t have sex is the beach…..I did it once it was not a pleasant experience; sand chafes and you are washing it out for weeks.

I’ve explained before that sharing naked photos isn’t to do with other people, it’s all about me. Sharing those photos is about building my confidence, it’s about how I feel about me. And while I still have moments of not liking how I look, overall I am much better at accepting that I can be considered attractive and sexy. I still want to make changes to my body, but that’s because I want to be a healthier me; I want to be able to run for a bus without having to take my inhaler, I want to be able to improve my stamina and flexibility so I feel more confident about doing the sexy things I enjoy. And I want to give myself the best possible chances of NOT dying of a heart attack in my early sixties that I can (my dad died at 65 and my gran at 64 both of cardiac failure).

The Christmas Party – Wicked Wednesday #6

Wicked Wednesday

Welcome to my seventh post for Rebel’s Notes‘ Wicked Wednesday, Christmas Party. You don’t have to use the prompt but I wanted the inspiration, and I thought it would be a fun challenge. The prompt for this week was:

Christmas PartyIt’s Christmas time again and of course the prompt has to be all about Christmas. Tell us your sexy Christmas stories! Let’s see if we can make this a record week. Use this week’s prompt to wish all your readers a happy Christmas and link your post here for all to see.

I want to take this opportunity to thank you all for joining in with Wicked Wednesday in this past year! Thank you for supporting this meme and keeping it going.

I wish all of you a very merry Christmas with your loved ones!

~ Marie Rebelle

 

The Christmas Party

He’d joined the company a few months ago, and I had been fantasising about him from the first moment I saw him, he was standing in the kitchen sketching while he waited for the coffee machine to percolate. He’d glanced up and smiled at me when I walked in, “I just made some fresh, it’ll be another few minutes.” I’d mumbled a hasty “I’ll come back” and tried hard not to drool as I rushed out. There was just something about the way he always had his shirt sleeves rolled up, accenting his forearms and drawing my eyes to his hands; broad smooth palms and long strong fingers. It was enough to make me come over all weak-kneed and breathless, trying hard to remember where I was, and fighting the urge to take his hand and rub my face against it.

The downside of my slightly obsessive fantasising was my growing distraction at work, I’d spent an entire meeting thinking about his hands; how they would look holding me, how they would feel on me, squeezing, stroking, how they’d feel slipping into me, two fingers up to the knuckle and crooked to hit my g-spot. I’d had to be asked a question three times, and the entire room was staring at me as I stuttered over an answer…….then I managed to drop all my papers as I stood up to leave. I was fairly sure if he thought of me at all it was fleeting and not even vaguely positive. There was an embarrassing incident where he was picking a chocolate out of a tin of Quality Streets I was offering round; he chose a Strawberry Creme, then reached over to tug a lock of my hair, saying “They remind me of you”.

Which is why I was so surprised when he came up to me at the Christmas party. I was at the bar, the server had been ignoring me for ten minutes, serving anyone but me. He strolled up and got served immediately, I was muttering under my breath when he turned and asked me what I wanted. I’d answered before I could think about it and then he walked me back to my seat and sat down with me. We chatted about work and he asked about my Christmas plans. “Just a quiet day at home, I don’t have any family left now and all my friends tend to be doing stuff with their families. So I just stay home, eat whatever I want, and watch Christmas films……and the Doctor Who special.”
He grins at me, “Didn’t have you pegged as a nerd. Was starting to think I was the only one in the office.”
“I prefer geek but yeah. What fandoms do you follow?”

We managed to talk geek for the next four hours, people would occasionally drift over and join in before our geekiness overloaded them and they wandered away. When the Christmas party wound down and the bar staff came to chase us out, he asked if I wanted to carry on talking. Of course I did, and my heart beat a little faster when he said he lived just down the street. “There’s a bar next door that’ll still be open if you’d prefer?” I shook my head, “I don’t mind going to your place.”

His place was amazing. A top floor open-plan apartment with floor to ceiling windows along one wall and exposed brickwork. He turned on the hundreds of tiny white lights on the Christmas tree, on his way to the kitchen and told me to make myself at home. I slipped my shoes off and walked over to the windows, the view was stunning. I was still standing there when he slipped his arms around my waist, pulling me back against him and resting  his chin on top of my head, “I love this view.”

I leant back against him and he moved his hands to cup my breasts. The nipples beaded, showing through the thin material as he rubbed his thumbs over them. He dropped his head to kiss my neck, sliding my straps down my arms as he moved his lips along my shoulder. He slowly unzipped my dress, and pushed it down past my hips, to pool on the floor at my feet. I stepped out of it and kicked it to one side, as he ran his hands back up my hips, over my waist and cupped my bare tits. He squeezed them, pinching the nipples as he kissed and nibbled down my neck and along my shoulder, then he moved his hands around to my back, stroking the muscles and pushing me against the window, my gasp as the cold glass pressed onto my erect nipples turned into a moan as his hands moved over my arse. I wiggled round to face him, and he kept his hands on my butt, protecting my cheeks from the cold window as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him.

I let my hands explore the shape of his back, tugging at his shirt, so I could slip my hands under it smoothing them over his muscles. I moved my hands between us, unbuttoning his shirt so I could slide my hands over his stomach and chest, circling his nipples and pinching them lightly. He moaned and I slid my hands towards his waistband, stroking his erection through the fabric of his trousers, feeling it thicken. I fumbled with his belt for a moment before he stepped back and took it off, undoing his fly and taking his trousers off. He dropped them and his socks on top of my dress, as he moved back towards me, reaching out and touching my breasts, holding them, running his thumb over the nipple before dipping his head to take it in his mouth, sucking and nipping until I moaned and pushed against him.

I pulled him back up to kiss me, sliding my hands into his boxers, and running my fingertips over his cock a few times. Then frustration takes over and I push his pants down, letting them fall to the floor, so I can grip his shaft in my fist and stroke it. I  work my hand up and down his cock,  and deepening the kiss, pleased when his cock jerks in my hand and he groans. He straightens, pushing me back against the window as he slides his hand into my knickers, stroking my cunt, fingers rubbing along my slit, easily sliding inside me, as his thumb rubs my clit, teasing me into orgasm and I clench around his fingers, soaking my knickers.

He pauses to get rid of them, pushing them down my hips, and until they slide to the floor, then nudging my feet further apart and bending slightly he rubs his cock head against my slit, letting the tip slip into me before moving back, I moan and tilt my hips, wanting to feel him in me. He slides his hands around my butt lifting me and finally sliding all the way in, I settle back against window, hands on his shoulders for balance, as he thrusts into me, rocking back and forth. Then I feel him twitching in me and he comes, biting my shoulder as he groans, pushing me to another orgasm.

Later as we lie on his sofa watching the tree lights he reaches into the box of chocolates on the table and pulls one out. He holds it to my mouth, I take a bite, the strawberry and chocolate coat my tongue and I smile at him. He tugs my hair, “they still remind me of you.”

 

Merry Christmas to all my readers. Have a lovely holiday.

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christmas party

Bad Girl Blogger Award

BadGirls

The lovely KatieButterfly over at Katie Laid Bare nominated me for the Bad Girl Blogger Award, as well as putting me in some very illustrious company she also said some very lovely things about my blog. I never think my writing is good enough, so to hear how much someone whose opinion I really respect enjoys it and thinks well of it made my heart a little bit lighter.

I blog because it’s a way to write, I write because I have to. For me writing is like breathing, necessary to life. I am always happier and more content when I am writing. When my depression is bad and I am unable to write I find it very hard to pull myself out of the black hole of despair until I can start writing again, and once I break the dam, I find the words pour out of me, escaping from the bottle they’ve been held in while depression was running the show.  Blogging is a good way to keep me writing, in fact the recent lack of posts on here was due to my writing time being monopolised elsewhere (uni work) but I love writing this blog, interacting with readers on twitter, and also the fantastic sense of welcome and warmth there is in the sex-blogging community. Not to mention networking (hate that word) with some amazing writers. So while I don’t write my blog for awards or accolades, it still give me a happy feeling to know my writing is liked.

So, in keeping with the spirit of this award, I now need to nominate my own selection of fellow “Bad Girls”, here they are, in no particular order…

  • Girl on the Net – The fabulous Girl on the Net was my first introduction to sex loggers, I read her book and blog long before (ok a month before) I discovered the rest of the sex blogging community. She may not know me (or my blog) but I am very grateful she chose t pave the way for my blog with hers.
  • Oleander Plume – The wonderful Oleander Plume from Poison Pen Dirty Mind. Not only does she write some amazingly hot and sexy erotica but she is a lovely lady as well. Really supportive and welcoming, she has been a great help (and cheerleader) for me this last few months while I’ve been trying to balance uni, blogging, and life. Can’t say how much her help has meant.
  • F Leonora Solomon – An excellent writer whose Wicked Wednesday entries I always look forward to.  The lovely lady is also an editor and very encouraging about my writing. Which reminds me, I still owe her a story about handymen and cherries……it’s coming one day, I promise.
  • Malin James – An insightful and exciting writer whose blog is full of smart sassy posts. I wish I could write with as much clarity and awareness as this lady does…….an she makes it interesting. Her blog always engages me. I don’t offten comment on blogs but more often than not her posts inspire me to comment.
  • Charlie Powell – The ever delightful Charlie from SexBlogofSorts. Always has an interesting take on what’s happening, great stories and anecdotes, and some gorgeous Sinful Sunday entries, even when she is struggling emotionally she manages to write the most beautiful and honest posts.

 

RULES: If you are a recipient, please choose 3-5 female bloggers who write about sex (or post sexy pics of themselves, or both) that you admire and award them by passing on the award photo above and the rules.  Also, give a brief explanations of why you love those bloggers so much.  Be sure to notify your favourite bloggers that they got the award!