“If you don’t trust him you shouldn’t be with him. You have to rebuild that trust”

I don’t think I could tell you what is going through my mind. I don’t think I really know, when someone’s boyfriend cheats on them I get so very angry. How could they do that? If you don’t want to be with someone then you don’t have to be, but what happens when there is no actual cheating involved? Nothing physical, just sexual texts?

It started when CB left his phone at my house, now I know what you’re all thinking “Why would you go through his phone?” I didn’t, I had no intention of reading his messages. All I was going to do was text his mother and let her know he hadn’t lost his phone and if she would kindly let him know I had it. That was honestly all it was, but then our best intentions often lead to heartbreak. It was a mistake and I wish I had just left it for him to work out where it was and contact me, but I had to be that girl who wants to be helpful.

One of the messages read “I hope you get with me before you get with him” It was to a girl we both work with, someone who he has previously had a sexual relationship with and so I gave him the benefit of the doubt that maybe it was just flirtatious banter, but in my gut I knew. So I scrolled up, and text after text after text appeared on his phone.

Texts where they fantasised about being in a bath together “I’m in a warm bath and I’m in a *insert name of girl here* mood, come help me resolve it” This was New Years Day, I saw him two hours later, happily curled up in bed and spent the night with him. Then there are texts about his own sexual fantasies, things that he’d mentioned to me and I promised to surprise him with one day “Time to buy *Insert name of girl here* a secretary outfit” I don’t know what has hurt me more, that he used our sexual relationship to fuel fantasies about other girls or the fact he is sending these messages on days where I was seeing him. It’s not like he had gone a week without sex or seeing me, it was hours.

But then it wasn’t just one girl, when I confronted him about it he said it’s just the way him and WG (Work Girl) are, how their friendship has developed from their past relationship. Then I bought up UG (Unknown Girl) I’ve never heard him mention her, she’s not one of the friends I know and the texts to her were not as bad, but she was clearly just as interested in them as he was. I don’t know which is worse, knowing the girl he’s texting or not. But I do know one thing and I cannot even begin to describe how I feel right now.

Of course I spoke to him about it, I sat there on my laptop totally calm and told him I wanted nothing more to do with him, that I would take his phone to work when he wasn’t there and that was that. Then as he started to respond I started to cry, I wasn’t angry. I was completely devastated.

I wanted to be enough for him, I tried to hard to make our relationship work. I’ve gone out of my way to show him how much I care, I’ve tried things I’d never try for anyone else. I’ve for once in my stupid life actually cared about a guy enough that he comes first. Then to find out I’m not good enough? I’m not enough for him? To be told that yes, he sexts other girls. He only OCCASIONALLY thinks about having sex with them. Of course he would never actually have sex with them. No of course he wouldn’t because he likes me so much.

He sat and begged me for another chance, Just one more just let me make this right. He cried, he told me how much I mean to him and I said ok, yes you can have one last chance, but if you hurt me like this ever again I will never forgive you. Now I think I regret it. I regret not showing him just how much this had affected me, I regret that I’ve just rolled over like the good girlfriend and let him carry on. I wish that I had the guts to sit there and tell him no, to send him packing and then maybe he would fight for me or maybe I would be able to cry into a tub of Ben and Jerries and I would get over him.

I can’t do any of that, because I am well and truly in love with a man who deep down doesn’t want to be with me. I am so caught up in him, in us, in our relationship that I’ve let him get away with the one thing I cannot stand. Now I’m left to fix my heart on my own whilst he pretends it hasn’t happened. I have to continue to be the good girlfriend – after all if I don’t do it right then there are other girls who would love to take my place. Girls who will happily fuel his fantasies and offer him all the ego-boosting he needs.

I’m just the girl who lends him her Teddy Bear the night of a big interview so he doesn’t have to travel alone. The girl who spends 3 hours fixing his power point for a big presentation whilst he falls asleep watching me. I’m the girl who will give up my Saturday night to go and watch him sing, to call him when he’s upset or when work gets too stressful. I’m the one who spent months planning his Christmas present and I’m the one who gets to be hurt. I’m the one that will never be good enough. I think that’s what is hurting the most. I will never be enough for him and I know that. Now all I can do is smile and pretend I’m OK, pretend that I don’t know that in a month, maybe six maybe a years time he will do the same again. As my best friend said “If you don’t trust him you shouldn’t be with him. You have to rebuild that trust” but the funny thing is I do trust him, I trust that he is going to hurt me again, and it will be my fault for letting him.

“I think I have a bit of a 50 Shades Streak…”

I’m starting to understand sex a lot more, I understand how to make it feel good and I can understand why so many people love it. One thing I never used to understand was the whole “doggy style” concept. For me I’ve never found anything even remotely interesting about having a head full of pillow whilst your partner fucks you from behind. Unable to see you.

Recently with CB I became a lot more open to new positions and I even started to enjoy the dreaded “doggy style” but recently it’s become his go-to sex position.

I hate being objectified, what I’ve come to really hate is being used for sex. Now I know that CB just enjoys being able to “see himself enter me” which I think is a bit odd but for me? Well for me it’s seems like a bit of a cop out. Something to do with a prostitute or one night stand when you want to pretend you’re having sex with someone else.

Sometimes I don’t mind it, if I’m being honest with you I think I have a bit of a 50 Shades Streak… I quiet like being powerless sometimes and my second experience of being tied up was utterly thrilling. But recently it’s felt like CB can’t enjoy sex unless we are in this particular position. I’ve attempted to suggest something new but i always seem to end up on my hands and knees.

If there’s anyone out there who can shed some light as to why men enjoy it so much or what I’m doing wrong then please leave me a cheeky comment! I won’t judge.

“You need to leave, please get your clothes on and go”

So here is a funny little tale for you all, I’m only 19, before I came to University I had never had a one night stand. I had kissed boys who weren’t my boyfriend but that was it really, I never slept with boys at parties and I had only ever touched my boyfriends. So I guess you could say I was pretty nieve when it came to boys – That is until I came to uni. 

My first ever one night stand wasn’t even with someone from my Uni, he was visiting my Fresher BFF lets call her G. Anyway G invited him to my house party and he was sweet, ugly but sweet, and I ended up with his number. A few nights later I was out with some other friends at one of the bars on campus and he saw me out, we talked and I ignored his advanced and went back to dancing (Yes, I was pretty drunk) A few hours and quiet a few drinks later I saw him again. Actually if I’m telling you the truth I think I was texting him… I think? 

He ended up sat on a bench outside and being me, I kissed him. We left walked home together and I assumed he was going to go and stay at G’s house, which was just down the road from mine. Oh No he had other plans, like I said I was drunk and had not had sex since before summer holidays began, which was a few months and being the super cool care free fresher I decided why not? Everyone has to have a one night stand at some point in their life and so I thought that I might as well get it out of the way. Did I mention I was drunk? 

From what I remember he wasn’t thrilled at having to wear a condom, but even when drunk I remember to be safe. I think this should have been a warning but with a few bad graces he put it on and started to touch me. So there I am lying on my back, watching this guy put on his condom and I look at his penis, not only was it slightly bigger than I was expecting. No, don’t worry it wasn’t huge! It was just a bit longer than I was used to but I think that says more about the other boys I had slept with than it did about him, but that wasn’t the funny part. As he finished putting the condom on I realised there was something a bit peculiar about his member… I have never seen a penis that bends as far left as his does. I couldn’t help but giggle and luckily I managed to blame it on his ears, because they were rather big too. But there I was lying in bed, about to have sex with a guy with big ears, a problem with condoms and a wonky willy… 

It would be ok if the story stopped there but it doesn’t. I’m not that lucky. I’ve never been very adventurous in bed, I like the missionary position, it means the guy can do what they want and I can just drift off and they won’t realise that I’m not really doing much. So it came as a bit of a shock when he turned me around and attempted to “do me from behind”. Let’s just say I have a big butt, and his penis just didn’t reach, so after that frustration he preceded to turn me onto my back and hook my legs over his shoulders. Thank god I’m flexible. This is the first time anyone had done this to me and it freaked me out, completely sobered me up and made me realise what an idiot I was being. I didn’t even like the guy, and he was G’s friend. 

I am ashamed to say I became one of those girls, as soon as he finished (which didn’t take long) and smiled at me I told him “You need to leave, please get your clothes on and go” Not my finest moment. I think I’m the only girl in the world who has a one night stand with someone who wants to stay and cuddle and I kick him out. 

One night stands? Definitely not my thing… 

“yes of course they had sex”

I don’t know why but I really feel the need to now write another post. I was thinking about my last post and then the phrase “the things people said” came into my mind. As you can probably tell B2 and that whole relationship has left me a little bit scarred, but the scary thing about it is that actually things didn’t stop when our relationship stopped. 

I remember a group of girls who I was friends with speaking about B2 a lot at school, one of the other girls liked him and so it was a running conversation of how they would end up together and how lovely he was. This girl was one of my best friends and it still hurts me now knowing that I went out with him when I knew she liked him. At the time I overlooked that, I ignored the conversations about him and her and I didn’t really pay any attention when she was talking about him, after all I didn’t know him and I wasn’t ever going to meet him. 

But then I did, I spent an afternoon in the local park with them and B2 shows up with his friends, we got on instantly and I remember speaking to H (My friend) and asking if she liked him because B2 and I had really gotten on so well… long story short we ended up going out and she, well she was fine with me until the end of the relationship. 

After we broke up for the second time B2 and H got together, for months I was told “no we haven’t slept together. I promise you” and we would joke and laugh about it and I would try really hard not to let the situation get to me, after all he had been my first proper boyfriend and as much as I would like to deny it he was undoubtedly my first love. 

This was year 11, I was just about to turn 16 and it was only when I was 18 that one of the girls let it slip when I went home from University that “yes of course they had sex” and at that time it tore my world apart. It was stupid and so silly and I know it shouldn’t have but I had told H2 a lot about my first time with him, she was the person who I had told the most to about the sexual side of our relationship. I had warned her not to sleep with him, and she did. I don’t know if it’s because I trusted her or because she’d lied to me or because he had used my friend as a rebound and subjected her to everything he put me through, but something about the whole situation to this very day still breaks my heart when I think about it. 

Relationships are funny things, even after they are long gone and you’ve moved on they can still have a very profound affect on you. 

To this day I remember one of the stories H used to laugh about and I used to freak out about: 

B2 had this obsession with telling me things he thought were really sexy and kinky, his personal favourite that I will never forget was how he was going to “Make you hold onto the radiator whilst I slip it inside you, then I’m going to take an ice cube and rub it over you slowly. Putting it inside you and watching it melt, the cold will drive you crazy” honestly I think only a small part of that might be paraphrased. Even to this day I can see that message on my phone if I think about it. H had the same kind of messages when she went out with him but she was obviously a lot more grown up than me, she laughed it off and told all the girls in our group of friends how funny it was. Apparently one girls nightmare is another girls comedy.

 

“I’m exhausted, I was so close and almost came… then you told me to be quiet”

So with all my past experiences there has been good times and bad times and some truly awful times. This story is less then a few hours old, it’s not that funny and it’s not one of those self pity ones – it’s just a story of something I never thought I would do. Today I gave my first “boob job”

Now a boob job was first introduced to me by a girl I went to school with, you know how every girl has that friend who she wants to be? Well S was that friend for me, she was popular, she was pretty, she had a new boyfriend every week and I lived by her stories. She was the first person who introduced me to sex really,in sixth form and it was only after things with B2 and I had ended  that she began to share her stories. Too little too late but apparently some of her stories still hover around in the back of my mind.

A boob job was described to me as “you hold your boobs together with your hands whilst a guy thrusts his heavily lubricated  penis in-between them”. For the guy it feels just like sex without a condom and therefore it’s perfect for when you don’t want sex or are on your period. Which is how I found myself this morning, having joked to CB about giving him a boob job a few weeks ago he had been angling for one for ages… apparently the idea of cumming on my chest and having his wicked way with my boobs was a complete turn on. Gross.

So there I was, covered in cola flavoured “dick lick” (yes thank you Ann Summers) holding my breasts together whilst my boyfriend had sex with them, girls the boys may enjoy it but there is absolutely nothing in it for us. I lay there thinking about my essay due in on Monday… then I thought about making a cup of tea and finally about how squeaky the bed was. At this point telling him to “shhh” was apparently the wrong thing to do as 20 minutes later he gave up “I’m exhausted, I was so close and almost came… then you told me to be quiet” that’s right ladies and gentlemen I had subjected myself to half an hour of boring sticky fake sex just to be told that it was my fault he didn’t get any relief. Typical. Not only this but the dick lick had not only gotten all over my chest, stomach and arms but also around my chin and even in my hair. So honestly? Worst experiment I’ve ever tried and after sleeping off his disappointment I think CB regretted asking for a boob job instead of a blow job (His loss!)

“Just cover your teeth with your lips and suck it”

Deciding to write a blog about my sexual history has to be one of the most peculiar things I have done. However since I wrote about my first time having sex I’ve felt like a massive weight has been taken from my shoulders, it also made me realise how absolutely amazing my sex life has become – thank god for CB (Current Boyfriend).

One of my biggest fears in a relationship is the “Blow Job Phase” it’s that moment in a relationship where you are expected to give someone a blow job, where it is no longer acceptable to avoid it and rush into sex. I have hated blow jobs since I was 15, again B2 messed me up a bit with those too! Imagine you’ve just gotten out of school, your boyfriend has walked all the way up the hill to meet you and you’re going into town for a coffee. He pays for your hot chocolate (without even asking) and proceeds to take you on a romantic walk through the park with cupcakes and holding hands.

In the town where I went to school there is an infamous building on top of a small bump most people would call a hill, I had never been up there before but it had a bit of a reputation as a local hot spot for teenagers taking drugs, having sex and goodness knows what else! I didn’t know that at the time and I thought we were just going to go and watch the sunset, again another indication of how young and foolish I was, we did watch the sunset, as far as I remember it was absolutely beautiful!

On our way back down the hill B2 took me to a secluded part of the infamous wall and sat me down on the ground in front of him with my back against the wall, long story short he asked me for a blow job, and being me I obliged. Readers, it was horrible. You know you read in magazines about how you should never let a guy thrust into your mouth because he will push too deep causing you to choke and gag? Yeah – that was my first experience. “Just cover your teeth with your lips and suck it” was the advice B2 gave me. So I sat on the cold wet floor letting some 18 year old fuck my mouth. Part of my personality is that if I’m being made to do something I have the “well if I’m going to do it, I might as well do it right” attitude… which is what slowly took over on top of that hill. It went from me not wanting to do it to me not wanting to do it but desperately seeking approval by doing the best I could. At this stage I’d never watched porn, never been told what you’re supposed to do and after a good 20 minutes of jaw ache and choking my boyfriend removed his still hard penis from my mouth and passed me a cupcake and muttered the ever endearing and totally soul destroying “that was great, you were amazing” which I knew was complete bollocks.

Since that day I’m proud to say I made it my mission to get better at giving blow jobs, which I never quiet achieved until a few weeks ago when I first watched porn… that is not a phrase I ever thought I would write on the internet! Nor is it a phrase that my family or friends would enjoy reading – but they don’t get to see this blog, they’ve never been told any of this and my porn experience? Well that’s another story entirely which maybe, maybe I’ll tell another day.

The first touchy feely.

When I was 15 my first boyfriend (B1) and I went on a date to a field to watch the clouds and really get to know each other. I don’t think he meant it to be sexual and I’m glad, it wasn’t really anyway but he had been the first boy I’d kissed and I was at the age when people at school started to discuss the different “bases”. It wasn’t the crude explicit gossip that I hear now I’m an adult but sneaky whisperings of young girls asking their friends what they knew about “Bjs” and “69s” which I’d never paid much attention to.

I remember lying in that field, inconveniently on my period, and B1 asking if he could touch my boobs “under your top and over the bra of course”. This all happened before B2 and I was intrigued by my first sexual experience, so I let him touch me and one thing lead to another and I ended up taking off my bra, yet remaining suitably covered by my t-shirt. It was at this point with him lying on top of me fondling my breasts in a manner that probably resembled someone kneading bread that a steam train came past. Because of the area we lived it was one of those touristy ones where if you see someone you wave out of the window and the train goes so slowly that you are sat waving at them for a good two or three minutes. This is what happened to me.

There I was, sat in a field with my new boyfriend next to me and on the other side a hot pink Tammy Girl bra with my hair dishevelled and my boobs hanging rather unflatteringly underneath my almost see-through top waving at a train full of about 60 people, both young and old who would have been able to see that I had been in the middle of a very serious heavy petting session.

I don’t think I’d been so embarrassed before that point. As our time together came to an end B1 asked why I hadn’t touched him at all at day, he asked if I was was just too scared and when I confirmed his suspicion he took my hand and placed it… no not down his pants, not even on top of his crotch, he placed it on his left butt cheek and told me to “squeeze a little bit. See it’s not that bad!” and there my hand remained for the next five minutes whilst we walked back to my fathers car. If I remember rightly I was absolutely elated at my first sexual encounter and also too scared to move my hand away in case he thought I was a chicken.

A short background.

My first time was supposed to be this amazing and beautiful thing that marked the moment in my life when I went from being a child to being a grown up. I can remember the date, 20.11.09 I remember because I remember the day so well that the date has just stuck in my mind. Anyone who was a Twilight fan knew and counted down the days until that date, it was the UK release of New Moon into the cinemas and Boyfriend number 2 (whom I shall refer to as B2 for ease) had gotten us tickets to go and see the film on the first day it came out as his local cinema.

I was so excited, until half way through the film where B2 lent over and whispered in my ear “You can repay me later” he had been joking around about us having sex for a while and being the 15 year old virgin that I was I didn’t respond enthusiastically nor dismissively, my first mistake being that he was 17 at the time and had a lot more experience. I spent the rest of the film worrying about what to do, how was it going to work, would it hurt, the usual questions you ask when you’re young.

I don’t think I was ready, at the time I felt like since he had bought me the tickets I had to do this for him. I’ll put it simply, it was not rape. I consented but I shouldn’t have and I don’t blame B2 for that, if I had the courage I could have said no and not had sex with him but I didn’t and I was scared, it felt like the right thing to do and to this day I regret not saying no, for letting myself be so easily emotionally manipulated into that situation.

I don’t remember much, other than him pushing me back on his bed whilst his parents cooked dinner downstairs and kissing me roughly. I know I didn’t quiet fit on his bed, I think my legs were hanging off the edge so he must have been stood up for most of the time. I can remember the burning feeling as he pushed inside of me and the tears running down my face and it being too late for it to stop. When it finished as he removed himself from me I saw the blood on the condom “Did I make you bleed?” I asked naively and he looked at me and laughed before laying back down and telling me how amazing that was, how amazing I was, how much more perfect could that have been?

That has been my take on sex ever since, after all I didn’t know any better. In my mind all I had to do was lay down and let them get on with it. I quickly became a master of “faking it” I wasn’t stupid and I knew that if I moan slightly at the right moments or caught my breath and bit my lip then seeing me in such a state would quicken their orgasm and then it would be over. I would then pull my clothes back on and sit back and let them clean themselves up. Something which to me now shows how little I cared for these boys and what they were doing to me and my body.

To begin.

Creating a blog, inventing an alias and attempting to write down your thoughts is a somewhat daunting yet exciting task. I am 19, in the immortal words of Britney Spears “I’m not a girl, not yet a woman” I have been sexually active since I was 15. Until now I’ve been ashamed of that fact. The media, school, family, friends, what seems like everything and everyone tells us that young girls should not have sex. They should not be sexually active until they are at least 16, the social pressures and the way in which I lost my virginity meant I’ve been somewhat afraid of sex. Which also meant I have never been very good at it. But why am I telling you this?

 

As a frightened 15 year old whose friends barely spoke about sex I continuously used the internet as my guide, Cosmopolitan.com was, and still is, by best friend when it comes to boys, relationships and anything to do with sex. Yet earlier today I branched out and I read an article on Glamour.com entitled “If You’ve Ever Wanted To…” as I was contemplating the suggestions such as sex outdoors and getting tied up I came across “Write a sex blog” the thought had never occurred to me, and although I have what most would consider a lot of experience it is only with my current partner that I’ve begun to enjoy sex and think of it as something I want to do, something I enjoy. 

 

Ergo here I am, sat with a cup of tea in my pyjamas writing my first blog post on “Of Sex and Love” a blog written by me for any girl who felt the same way I did about sex, I’ll tell you stories of my past, admit my deepest sexual secrets and tell you of anything new and exciting that happens to me. Maybe if I had read something like this I would have learnt to enjoy sex a lot earlier on, but this is my life, and all it meant is my current relationship is incredibly special and has given me a totally new found appreciation for sex. Thank goodness. 

So stand by for some rather embarrassing stories…