Love, Life and Dirty Little Secrets

Dirty Little Secret

In 2012 I wrote a piece about a guy I hooked up with for a night. That guy was my ex-Fiancé’s friend and work colleague. That guy is also who I left my previous most recent boyfriend for. Easy to paint a Picasso of my seemingly promiscuous self. Maybe I am promiscuous.
Just seemed the gynecologists deserved a break from staring between my hoisted legs due to an immense paranoia about contracting something nasty from a penis, as much as I love them. So the story here is I have a new boyfriend, referred to previously as “Mr Casual” (Read all about the first encounter here ). It seems apt I include him in my many pages of writing, he is after all, as I know I say each time I mention a male in my life “different.”
In terms lesser than romantic, I hope this time my visit to the gynecologist prodding my cervix with cotton buds is at least another year away. That would be fabulous.

Now, let me fill you in on love, life and dirty little secrets…

Mr Casual was knighted by myself in January this year for being far more than just “that guy.” I upgraded him to fully fledged boyfriend status. My previous boyfriend, who I ended this relationship for, became less attractive physically and mentally as time progressed.
Life can sometimes throw shit at you. In December life threw bricks at me. Long and short in a few brief words; I ended up in hospital for a month. Broken bones, unable to walk and as high as Amy Winehouse on a Saturday night. Mr Casual turned up to my house with my favourite cup of Costa coffee, a bunch of flowers and sat with me for an hour whilst I dribbled on my medication and my fat, bloated gut hung out over my tracksuit bottoms. That’s where it started. Romance at it’s absolute finest and very quickly I was looking forward to seeing him in a way more than friends. Coffee dates lead to lunch and that lead to me being invited to his house where we spent the evening watching comedies, talking and laughing. Before I knew it he kissed me and I knew straight away that was what I wanted, even if I did look like one of Cinderella’s ugly sisters with pubic hair that needed a years worth of frizz ease to calm down. He just waltzed in and took me for who I was there and then. What a man. Feelings can’t be tapered and I had zero feelings for my ex. Nothing at all. When it’s done it’s done. I never ever planned on jumping from one relationship to the next but when it happens that way there is nothing you can do, just accept that’s what makes you happy and indeed, this made me the happiest I had been in months.

The past three months since I wrote my last piece about having orgasms on a Monday morning turned into just that and my vagina needs a day at the spa and an hour in an ice bucket. I’ve been on a hen do where I didn’t get trashed and show the world my knickers (famously known for flashing in lifts under the influence), bought a car and nearly get my boyfriend beaten up by 4 dodgy second hand sales wankers to get my money back, managed to just slip out of getting cuffed and arrested by the British Transport police in London for trespassing and breaching security and got myself on French television with no idea what I was being asked, a camera and microphone in my face whilst I smiled like an idiot hoping it would go away. That’s life thus far.

As for dirty little secrets, I have plenty of those. I just can’t tell you them all. Not yet. You already know I left one boyfriend for another, that in itself has a substantial secret behind it for another gloomy day…

Any subject love, life or dirty little secrets you’d like to share with me?

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