What was I thinking?
As a youngster I always had more male friends that laydees. This was fine until puberty ruined everything and perfectly normal friendships became sullied by the thought of losing your v-plates and telling your mates about it...it coincided that I met my first proper boyfriend around this time. He was from the secondary school at the next town and our relationship flourished.

Throughout years 10, 11, 12 and 13 we stayed together but because we were at different schools I spent the majority of my days hanging out with the boys and flirting like a hooker.There was one particular guy who i fancied, but I never did anything about it. I knew he liked me too, but both of us had people in the picture and it would have just been plain weird.

Fast forward five years and we bumped into eachother - I was pretty hammered and it was just like old times. We were both single....the chemistry was still there and I made the on-the spot decision that I simply had to have him.

I'd just come back from spending some time on the continent and I was thinking that this would be an ideal opportunity to taste the forbidden fruit and get some good British beef back on the menu. However I didn't realise that I would have to almost completely change my personality and "excessive" drinking habits in order to get regualar sex out of him.

Needless to say, The "relationship" was doomed from the onset, but neither of us wanted to admit that this was a pretty big error. I wanted drunken fun, he wanted commitment and to knock every ounce of confidence out of me at evey given opportunity.

Shortly after this affair began, I realised that I had to do something to end it. The sex was poor to average at best and I started to notice that his teeth looked quite green under certain lights. He also watched everything I drank, like some kind of alchol monitor - to the point where I actually just gave up booze completely. This was not something I wanted in my life.

Two days before Christmas, I called him and told him it was over then went out and got off with some random lad from the place I was working. I felt a million times better without him in my life.

I've only seen him once since, at the petrol station buying chocolate eclairs. That's the last thing that fat bastard needed, but I suppose you don't really find humilty, passion and sexual stamina at filling stations do you?
(madamebonsoir, Tue 17 Apr 2007, 14:29, Reply)