Snog, marry, avoid?

Girls night out tonight. As you would expect 11 girls who work with 45 boys only have one topic of conversation when they go out to dinner. That would be the 45 boys they work with. And despite the age range of 23-35 it all devolved into one big round game of Snog, Marry or Avoid.

Every one of my three choices contained Byron. Figures right? Perils of working together I guess people are bound to make up rumours.

On the way home though I gave it some thought. Byron and I are playing our own version of Snog, Marry Avoid.

Snog - well we make out like teenagers whenever we can steal 30 minutes alone (he's also currently getting the occasional blow job from me. I really should stop that but I find it too much fun myself so doubt I will).

Marry - well this is an abstract one for us. We're not actually having sex which is kinda like a marriage. We argue like a long married couple. Knowing my luck I will marry the annoying little shorty and one or both of us is going to end up cheating on the other. Fidelity isn't exactly a strong suit for either of us it seems.

Avoid - well he's been doing that since Monday night (i.e. the last time he got his dick sucked). I'm trying to rationally tell myself it's a busy week at work. However its that time of the month when I'm irrational as fuck. So ranting about it here. Because otherwise tomorrow I might bite his head off entirely rather than dropping to my knees and giving him head....

Hiatus

Urgh, this os not going to be pleasant for me to put into words.

One of my closest relatives died the other week. There was a delay in the funeral so I've been keeping a lid on it all. The funeral was this past Friday. My nerves feel like they've been rubbed with sandpaper then cleaned with vinegar.

Granted this relative was elderly this was sudden. Someone made a mistake. The word "inquiry" is never one you want bandied about at a wake.

I'm too raw to write anymore tonight. Other than to say I've not heard from Dutch Boy since our last night together. I miss him strangely.

Double Dutch

So spent last night again with Dutch boy. I was supposed to be out with work colleagues but I skipped in favour of bringing forward a night with by 24 hours.

And oh boy what a night.

This is only the second time I've met him. First time was drinks at the Shard and an afternoon of truly excellent sex at his place. There is something about this guy even when he talks - very old streak romanticism (he doesn't like it when I point this out I still think its a compliment). He met me off the bus (because I couldn't remember the way back to his) and took me back to his.

Where I found the living room lit by candles, cushions and blankets everywhere. To some that would seem seedy I can assure you it was not. In between all the , again what was frankly fantastic, sex I got a full body massage, cuddle, fussed over and talked to like a human being with some decent level of intelligence. I also got dinner cooked me (a first) and then breakfast this morning. I generally feel spoiled and pampered and above all special right now.

A part of me wishes it had been seedy. A part of me wishes I'd seen the room as the set up for a cheap porn shoot. I wish he's ignored me, not talked to me and sent me packing to my place not holding me occasionally through the night. 

Because seedy is simple. Special raises too many questions.

Sex, Lies and Videotapes

So I was a little bad before Christmas. I gave Byron a blow job in our offices after hours the Friday before Christmas. I was a little bad again last night when I gave him another one after work in my bedroom.

Ok so the night before Christmas. After hours in the office. Just the two of us, alternating between chatting nicely, me learning new things about the business, his hand up my skirt and me on my knees in the meeting room sucking his dick. I had a great night. I actually like it most when me and Byron and like this. It's so damn easy for us to flow through the whole night I am actually struggling to find words to describe it.

Annoyingly I'm sure Byron would like nothing more to weigh in at this point and say it's meaningless that we are able to do that. I'd like to point out to him we are miserable one way or another when we are not behaving like this. We get snippy with each other mainly and uptight and fraught.

Last night was a smaller version of the night before Christmas in so much as the end result was me on my knees with his dick in my mouth. I would like to go on the record as saying I'm not complaining about forever being on my knees it seems. I actually like doing that to guys - it's a power trip and I will never understand women who complain about it but I'm getting off track here.

So there is the sex so far. The lie is we're happy when it's not happening. The videotape? Well avoided disaster. Security cameras have been installed inside our offices for the first time. Luckily they are not discreet and have gone in with a lot of pomp so at least we know we got the chance to fool around in the office without starring in an inadvertent porn film....

Hook, Line and Sinker

So last night I was complaining I have too many guys on the go at the moment. This is still true tonight and I'm forcing myself to knock out a blog post rather than start reeling in another new guy for the fun of it.

My best friend from home is well less of a best friend and more of a non-biological sister. She's known me almost all my life and fancies herself to be something of an amateur psychologist. I think that's what I'll call her from now on - Psy. So according to Psy I am psychologically scarred by my first boyfriend who openly left me for another member of our friendship group.

So now I chase really bad boys. To see if I can make them love me. For many months I've been seeing if I can entice Byron. And since dipping my toes into online dating (ok online fuck buddy meeting)  I'm now just playing a numbers game. How many can I snare?

Feel vaguely bad about this. Unlikely to meet everyone of these guys, not enough hours in the day. But I get off on talking. So I'm off fishing to see what I catch. then it's a case of choosing what I want to bring home for dinner and what I'll throw back into the water.

Pins and needles

I have too many men on the go.

I am trying to have conversations with two different men via two different mediums. Plus my best (female) friend on Facebook. I also have Byron. There was also a 3rd boy via text.

And I wonder why I'm exhausted....

So trains of conversation

Dutch boy (met the other week for an afternoon of FUN I need to type up) - meeting again next weekend. He deserves some serious attention in this blog though. I'll get to that.

Writer boy - bit of a wildcard entry. Out of a long term relationship and a little pushy. But very smart and intriguing to talk to so will consider for one more night.

Jock boy - little young, little dumb but talking a basic game that enough to suggest I'd get a good bang out of him.

I've got pins and needles in my legs from sitting crossed legged at my desk trying to keep up with just these boys.

Byron and I needled each other on the way home. I discussed the various boy's I'm seeing. He apparently is planning a date of his own this weekend. I pointed out some of his more charming faults. He did the same to me. Apparently we're not special to each other. I pointed out that it's only going to take a few more months of this behaviour before he starts complaining someone is playing with his toy...

And if that fails I can always stick some actual pins in a nice little voodoo doll....

Resuming Normal Service

There is nothing like a death in the family to readjust your perspective on life. In the cold harsh light of day we've lost a distant family member. In reality we've lost one of the most important people in our family.

Nothing like a death in the family to bring you all together to mourn and cherish those you have left.

At the same time there is nothing like a death in the family to rip you all apart and realise that those you have left don't know the first thing about you.

All I want to do tonight is sleep. And for the next 5 days to bring my job under control first. After that bring my family under control. Finally bring my issues with Byron under control.

The first one will take a massive will to care again about my job but should otherwise be simple. My family will take every ounce of my emotion and reason to recalibrate. And Byron? Well thats going to take an act of God.

Stages of Grief

The traditional psychological stages of grief are

1) Denial
2) Anger
3) Bargaining
4) Depression
5) Acceptance

Mine and Byron's stages of grief appear to have been

1) Ignoring each other
2) Opening up about how we feel about the past few days
3) Attempt to purchase Byron a secret phone so he can message me
4) flirt outrageously
5) have one tender moment before saying good night

I think I need to see a therapist. Or have sex with Byron once and for all. Something monumental to swing my life one way or the other.

Part of our flirting banter is discussing the sex life we're having with other people. Or rather the sex life I'm having with other people. He currently has no sex life. He assures me of several things - to him I am not special or unique and that he's not jealous of me seeing other men. I rib him that he is more emotionally involved than he'd ever want to admit.

I think this is going to go on a while. There will be a few weeks or months of us both having sex with each other and having sex with other people and then it'll start creeping in. I'll go girly and start getting attached, he'll get blokish and pissed off someone else is playing with his toy.

Then we'll both need a therapist because we will have a relationship born out of twisted grief and fucking around. Sad thing? I'm actually looking forward to all this grief through my current grief. Or I'm trapped in the traditional stage 1 and am just too dumb to know it.

Radio Silence

No word from Byron... I'm taking it as bad news and trying not to dwell.

I have some serious bad habits - mainly in the past few months I joined a site to encourage meeting for casual sex. Now my sexual history is a bit odd. Compared with national statistics I lost my virginity at a very late age (21) and spent the next three and a half years with that one guy.

Since leaving him last January and this January I've now had sex with 4 other men. And had conversations of a sexual nature with more than I cared to keep count of. This also doesn't include the fooling around with Byron (which before Christmas has taken on a physical side but not to the scale of actually having sex yet).

My best friend believes I am acting out not because I ended my relationship last January but because I have failed to form one with Byron. This linked with the guy who broke my heart at 19 by oddly enough refusing to be the one I lost my virginity too.

See and I thought I was just single and horny. Now I'm having to face a deeper delve into my psyche. Because here's the thing - where Byron is right now he is suffering. And I want to be there with him, for him. Instead there is only silence.

Strengthening Resolutions

So today is the first full day of 2014. A new year. A time for new beginnings. Unfortunately the 1st day of the year has seen Byron behave in the very same way he did for most of 2013 - the moment we make plans to fuck he vanishes from the face of the earth.

At least I'm no longer surprised by this behaviour. I'm still disappointed but its more of a dull ache in the pit of my stomach and a general feeling of resignation rather than a a sharply cutting pain across my chest and a deep sense of humiliation at being sexually rejected yet again. I was never very good at coping with that.

Still tonight is not a night to dwell. Tonight is the night to cement resolutions, a plan for the forthcoming year. So here goes

1) maintain this blog all year - nearly 3 months last year was a good start but not good enough

2) get fit in general - down to a UK size 10 if possible or at least a better toned 12

3) get a new job - the current one is starting to grate on my last good nerve

4) attempt to write a book - I have a longstanding argument with my best friend from childhood that I can't do this, she seems to think otherwise time will tell which one of us is right

5) figure out this situation with Byron once and for all - 1 year of indecision is 1 too many

Overall I don't think it's too bad a plan. Attempting to write a book should be a pleasant distraction on the days Byron says he'll be calling round to fuck my brains out. At this point I'd wager the book is more likely than us ever processing beyond the point that we are. Which is a shame because our friendship has stalled at the moment as neither of us can get past the attraction. But at the same time one of us is repeatedly holding back.

Still gotta keep the chin up and look out brightly across the year ahead. Because one thing I won't do this year is be miserable. I did too much of that last year. This is a year to be happy. Whether Byron figures into happiness or if it's time for him to go the same way as 2013 remains to be seen.

A sexless affair...

Oh lord in heaven. So today it was office life that monumentally derailed our plans for a steamy tryst at mine tonight. Also combined with him not sleeping last night and me being a moody bitch certainly dampened both our desires. 

Final nail in the coffin was Byron's nightly argument with her at home. Lead to our usual joint commute of bitching about the office and discussing everything we would have preferred doing in my bedroom. 

To be honest though its nights like this more than ever I wish we were dating. Because if we were at we could have gone to one of our places together and have lazy sex. This is the sex where you replace the physical intensity with the emotional. Nice, slow, lazy Sunday afternoon style sex. In the middle of the week.  

Sadly as we still haven't got around to this and we both know the first time has to be hot, dirty, physically demanding, risk breaking furniture and ourselves sex. In Byron's own words we both "have to bring our A game". 

Great so two office martyrs, working all hours under the sun for a deluded madman plus avoiding one girlfriend who watches his every move like a hawk... How in god's name do we find time and energy to fuck?

I don't even have the energy to change the batteries in my vibrator tonight ffs...

Burning alive

God I am so frustrated. Over a month of intense flirting and we're reaching a breaking point. Byron and I have been dangerously reckless at work. Heavy flirting, kissing in the kitchen. Outside of work we've been for a drink and some seriously heavy petting in an area of London we could easily be recognised. 

Amazingly he told me today he missed me last week. And he'd been thinking about me. Granted there was an admission a lot of that time he was thinking about fucking me. It's still amazing progress for him. Don't normally get those admissions. 

He's still not single though. I'm a little worried I still feel no guilt. The plan is to fuck after work tomorrow. We've been down this road before and he normally bails. 

I know how I feel about things are there are two non-negotiable points I have decided on. Firstly I will not live my life without him. He's my best friend, nobody gets me as well as he does and we simply have too much fun together. 

Secondly I'm not going through life without fucking him. We're too close, there's too much heat between us and god if the kissing is anything to go by its going to be the best sex I've ever had. 

F*cked Buddies

Argh so frustrated tonight. Nearing the end of my enforced communication separation from Byron. This is the longest we've spent apart since his last holiday with the psycho (granted they were getting along better at that time and we weren't in the hot and heavy zone we are now). This was back in May. It now being November I'm used to not seeing him two out of seven days of the week. 9 straight days of no word has been horrible.

There are several things annoying me about this holiday. Mainly its the knowledge that they will have had a lovely time away together. Because when he is a) in her line of sight at all times and b) not talking about his career they do get along. Problem is when he's out of her line of sight he usually these days has his hands all over me and his lips on mine. Also his career is majorly important to him and he does want to invest time in it so she's not going to like that when they come back to London.

I can't lie, I'm also disappointed he hasn't messaged me. So I did the ultra mature thing and texted Player to see if he felt like hooking up tonight. But sadly he doesn't appear to be talking to me either. Can't say I blame he after all he is Byron's flatmate and no doubt knows what we've been up too lately.

Whoops did I previously not mention that Byron and Player are best mates? I really did mean to write that down at some point.... Because life isn't complicated enough is it some days.

I am so fucked. Been physically screwing one guy who I don't care about emotionally who is best friends with the guy who is emotionally screwing me over by not fucking me. I have no idea how I got into this mess. More worryingly at the moment I just can't see a way out.

Ghosts in the machines

Urgh really truly awful day. Tonight's post will be short. Major system error crashed the business today. Cue much flapping of arms and jaws until it was fixed.

Reliance on computers is dangerous but inevitable these days. One random string of code is the difference between success and failure. Finding that one string and righting it when it goes wrong is a nightmare. 

Issue like the above are where I take issue with the phrase "needle in a haystack". With the right tools a needle is easy to find in a haystack. Needle is a man made metallic structure completely different to the malleable organic stands of hay. This is looking for a specific needle in a stack of needles. And that's way harder. 

Byron has become a ghost in a machine in his own way. He merely exists this week in the form of past communications. Nothing new. Not allowed to contact him still. 

Our business relies on computers controlling the flow of money around the world. I'm relying on the memory of past messages being enough to bring Byron back to me next week. All down to random strings of code in the end. 

Symbiotic siblings

One of the strangest aspects of my job is the fact my younger brother works in the same office as me. 

It was recently his birthday and I owed him dinner out (and a belated present). It's strange we're too very different people taste wise but working with him has made me realise (after 23 years) that our core values and ethics are perfectly matched. 

So tonight was spent discussing our next career moves, the current mood of the office and swapping tactical gossip. 

The good news is both sides have been able to report we are well respected and considered to be hard workers. The bad news for me is the mapping up of my relationship with Byron has not gone unnoticed. 

And so we're back to weird. My kid brother having to hear rumours about me banging a senior manager at the same company we work for. Life is never simple is it?

Out damned spot!

Oh my god. I thought part of growing older was things like spots are supposed to go the hell away (in denial the cause of this is being the recent resurgence in my smoking habit). 

I'm not in the habit of complaining about something so trivial but the damn thing is in my ear canal. I can just feel it with the top of my finger. I can feel it every time I flex my jaw. I can feel it when I lie down on that side. 

I have a million to one other things I could complain about from my life. The fact I was in work early. The fact that I stayed late. The fact I feel totally overworked and under appreciated. Byron not being there to support me work wise. The issues of reliance on 3rd party providers. Idiot flatmates. Underpaid. 

Nope thing that's driving me to utter despair is a single small spot in my ear. I cannot for the life of me work out if I have amazing perspective on life, the tolerance of a saint or if I have finally lost my last marble...

TV Embrace

Lazy evening tonight. First day covering Work Bitch's job. Her being away has its highs and its lows. The massive positive is there's no toxic cloud wafting around the office... In addition to her noxious perfume her personality isn't that great either. 

Downside is my feet didn't touch the floor for the better part of 8 hours today. Am exhausted despite my lazy weekend. Curled up tonight with some wine and excellent tv to soothe my nerves and got to thinking. 

A few weeks ago I was approached by a TV production company asking if I was interested in putting myself forward for a new show following a group of friends around London. After much thought I declined. 

Watching Made in Chelsea tonight I'm glad I did decline. I couldn't be as honest as I am in this blog on TV. I couldn't put myself up to that level of scrutiny and on many occasions ridicule with everyone knowing who I am. 

So for tonight I'll admire those who have that level of bravery to put themselves out there. Not deliberately promoting myself here but I did briefly work with one of the Made in Chelsea people and I know enough that they're not exactly the persona on TV.

Sticking to this side of my TV screen was certainly the right choice for me. Easier to be myself that way. 

Plan the work, work the plan

So I have 7 more days of enforced non-contact with Byron. The first 5 of 10 days without Work Bitch in the office. Time to get my head in the game. 

I still desperately need to tidy my room, but it simply been too exhausted this weekend. But it has to happen. Getting my room in order will be a major step towards getting the rest of my life in order. 

Work wise I need to plan the removal of responsibilities from Work Bitch. This will be a major step towards massively improving my CV. Because frankly I deserve a better job... And I want a better fucking salary to match. 

And if I can get this done I'll mentally be in a better place overall. I suspect I will need this so I can continue to support Byron. I'm currently seriously torn between hoping he's having a miserable time so he finally leaves an hoping he's having a lovely time and getting the rest he so desperately needs. 

But my life first. God created the world in 6 days and rested on the seventh. Lets see if I can recreate mine and post a nice peaceful post next Sunday awaiting Byron's return. 

Shattered...

Posting early tonight. Already been to bed once as I can barely keep my eyes open. Just waiting for a take away dinner, do some dishes and then going straight back to bed. 

As per usual these days been to the office this morning. Work Bitch is away for two weeks (see miracles do happen) which means I take over her job. 

Byron will also be away this week. We were alone late at the office again last night. We were supposed to be going for a drink but the poor lamb had so much to finish we ended up just hanging at the office. 

Been a definite improvement since the horror of Wednesday, the dirty talk resumed as did a few small kisses but granted not on our normal scale. This is the funny thing about the stress of our jobs - they just leave you so frustrated you end up wanting to have really rough sex with someone. But someone who understands the day you've just been through is also an important factor. 

I will miss Byron for the next 9 days. It's like a long weekend and standard Byron weekend rules apply - no contact what so ever. Not sure what will happen between him and his girlfriend but that's a long post for another night. For now I need to have some food then crawl into bed and slip quietly into a semi-catatonic state. 

Laws of the Robotic

Had another interesting flatmate day today. The idiot bohemian boy had a nosebleed this morning and yet he merrily swanned off to work leaving blood over the floors...

This has to be the most grim flat sharing story of my life. I really feel sorry for my other flat mate who text me this at work as she was cleaning it up. 

I crossed paths with him tonight and asked for his version of events. I got a ridiculous story about it being ok to leave blood on the floors because cleaning it would make him late for work... And he's normally late anyway so he's in trouble as it is with his company. Boo fucking hoo mate. 

I pointed out he was disgusting to leave that as it was. I got told I was a robot with no empathy for his tragic life. This would be a life of raving, occasionally going to work, always forgetting to pay me for bills and now expecting is to clean up his blood?

Of disagreeing with the above makes me a robot fine by mean. Sign me up. Actually could you also book me in for an oil change and have a look at my brakes? Haven't stopped at all this week and need to be in the office tomorrow at 8am? Thanks.