Sunday, July 29, 2007

Don't Come on My Face (book)

Wanda and Anjelika discuss:

Big Scotish Cocks
Turned on by Animals
Blanking Pete Burns
How to Flirt Sucessfully
CS flirting with Anjelika
Anjelika flirting with her professor
Best Books to take on Holiday
"Brighton Rock" - Graham Green
"The Full Montezuma" - Peter Moore
"Lolita" - Vladimir Nabokov
Daniel Radcliffe
Dreaming about the DG

The UK's #1 Sex Podcast
Naive London Girl

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Monday, July 09, 2007

I Turned Down a Four-Some

Finally, I’m working again, yay! It’s been three long months doing fuck all. My days of unemployment would have been enjoyable if I had bigger savings to live off of. But having foolishly squandered a big chunk of cash on my Brazil trip, I was living off peanuts – literally! In some ways Brazil was really worth it, but shit, I wouldn’t go through 3 months of being poor again.

Anyhow, it’s great to be back in a job. I’m a producer at a major TV network. I started working last week and so far its fantastic! I spent all Friday in Paramount’s offices working on a deal for an upcoming film. Then I got to see an exclusive preview of the film, Transformers. Sweet. Something tells me I’m gonna love this new job.

Tuesday I saw Interpol at the Astoria. I was so unimpressed. Before they made it big I saw Interpol play in some bar on Avenue A in New York. There were probably 30 people in the audience. It was great show. A friend of mine who is friends with Carlos D dragged me there. Back then I was very impressed. In New York there were so many friends’ bands I’ve been dragged to see. Interpol was the best of the lot. I met the band after that small show, but I really don’t remember much about it. I think I saw Carlos D. a few times after that at Motherfucker. Wednesday, however, Interpol were so fucking bland. All their songs sound the same. I couldn’t even tell which songs were their new ones.

Wednesday, I was on TV, Big Brother’s Big Mouth. The host was John McCririck He’s so fugly. I thought he was ugly on TV but in person he's worse. His wife sounds like an illiterate monkey when she reads from the teleprompter. The show was shite.

Thursday I treated my ex to dinner at a fabulous Indian restaurant, in Islington. I just wanted to say thank you to him for being so kind and lending me money when I was poor. The meal came to £95. Ouch. But I was in luck. Their card reader was broken. They brought in a replacement card reader. That was also broken, so we got the meal for free. Sweet!

Friday after work I met Wanda in a Starbucks on Carnaby Street. We talked about our podcast, our upcoming show Wed July 11, and we talked about the men in our lives. Or in my case, the lack of men in my life. We got some drinks in the Social. I bumped into a friend from my job last year where I was working on the World War II documentary. I asked her to catch me up on all the gossip. She said she didn’t have any so I said to her,

“I’ve got some gossip then: I fucked C.S.”

She looked at me, stunned. I know I’m a bitch. She has to go work with him on Monday. Somehow I didn’t care.

I was thinking about CS today. In some ways, I did genuinely like him. His quirkiness, his jokes. I liked that he liked me. I like that we both had a secret form the world. But as soon as I got the “fuck off” vibe from him, his ass was grass; and I was the mower.

Maybe he was the type of guy who could only handle a theoretical affair. The realness of our intimacy may have been too much for him. Still, for him to cast me aside like I was yesterday’s news was wrong. I know, two wrongs don’t make a right, but sure makes me feel a hell of a lot better!

After the Social Wanda and I wandered over to the Crown and Sceptre. We bumped into Ginge, a guy Wanda was once been besotted with. Coincidently they had been texting each other 10 minutes before we bumped into him. Through Ginge we were introduced to a few BBC radio producers. Naturally, I offered up my card.

After the Crown we went for a cheap Chinese meal in Chinatown. I took a night bus home and spent much of Saturday sleeping.

Saturday night I got a call from Mr. TV Presenter. Remember him? He asked it I wanted to go out to dinner and later have a four-some with him and couple he knew. Part of me was thinking, “Yeah that sounds exciting!” The other part of me was completely grossed out. I dunno. I sort of don’t want to share Mr. TVP with 2 other people at the same time. I still might do it one day, but i'll depend on how horny I am.

Besides, I've already done the four-some thing in college. Yes, it was fun, but a rather strange introduction to lesbianism.

Anyhow, I had plans with my friend the Soundie. The Soundie and I were going out to dinner. “Where do you want to go?" I asked him.

“Oh I’ve heard about this fantastic Indian restaurant in Islington.” I ended up back at the same Indian restaurant as Thursday.

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Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Crusty Cock, Cunnilingus and Bare Ass Exhibitionism on Oxford Street

Crusty Cock, Cunnilingus and Bare Ass Exhibitionism on Oxford Street Parts 1 & 2

It's an old episode, but a good one! Oral sex in public. FUN!

Chat about the saucy date with CS, the tranny.

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Sunday, March 25, 2007

Cum in my Hair: Finger Fucked in Mayfair

Cum in my Hair: Finger Fucked in Mayfair

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Chaos Theory.

For the first time this year I actually felt sad immediately after a very good sexual experience.

A few weeks ago Wanda asked me to go with her and another friend to a sex party at Club Rub. Despite my wicked past, I’m not into orgies. Yeah, of course I have had a few but with people I know. There seems something a bit weird and sleezy about group sex with people you don’t know. At the same time, it also seems really exciting. I’m too chikenshit to partake but I figured it would be a good experience just to watch.

Last week I started thinking about the party. I was beginning to change my mind. I called into the radio station LBC during Iain Lee’s show asked on air what I should wear to the party.

As soon as I hung up from being on air a friend of mine rang. It was the same friend who delivered the nightie to CS. She said that just as she was leaving Eagle Eye’s party. Eagle Eye got a job at a rival network and was having a leaving do.

I decided to go to the party. I realized that I may be entering enemy territory as far as CS was concerned, but I sort of didn’t care. The only problem was that I was wearing a really horrible jumper. That morning something told me to wear a skirt to work. But since the cute guy was away on holiday I figure not point in making the effort, eh?

It was nearing 9:00 and all the department stores were closed. In a moment of genius I found the nearest branch of my gym went in and bought a severely overpriced pink long-sleeved pink Nike shirt. I would have paid twice the price for it as long as I looked good at the party.

In the gym locker room, I put on the shirt and a bit of make up. I spritzed my hair with water ran back to my car. I drove around the block before and found parking on a side street not too far from the pub.

All eyes turned to me as I entered the pub with my dog. A few old colleges let out a little squeal, “Oh Anjelika!” It feels good to be welcomed. I almost felt like Norm from “Cheers.”

Even though I hated working on that World War II documentary, I really missed the people I worked with. Stephanie was there and looked fantastic as usual. CS was there as well. I knew he’d be there. Eagle Eye is one of his best mates. CS and I both actively avoided each other. I don’t think we were ever on the same side of the room at the same time. The weird thing is, I didn’t care. I totally didn’t care. I stared at him from across the room and he no longer seemed good-looking to me. He seemed boring and blah. There was no mystery to him. His hair didn’t look good either. His dashing blond hair was brown and dull.

This time last year he and I were kissing in Prague. Amazing how things change in a year/

A few face were missing from the party. D-Mac wasn’t there. Apparently he left a few minutes before I arrived. BKFITW quit the month before and the Cockblocker had fucked off back to Australia.

As I was making my rounds through the pub and catching up with various old co-workers, I spotted the DG from across the room. Our eyes met and I smiled back at him. He made his way through the crowded pub towards me. We embraced. He gave me kiss on both cheeks and asked if I wanted a drink. I was driving that night and Doggums was with me and I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to drink or not. There was part of me that wanted to be drunk and silly. Yet the other part of me needed to be responsible.

The DG was good. He seemed like his normal cheery self. I remember hating my job then, but looking forward to seeing him smile and say hello to me. It’s funny how you get used to things and how you can as easily get un-unsed to things.

While the DG was getting my drink, I talked to my old buddies in production. Everyone seemed well and happy. No drams, no gossip. It was good to catch up and feel like one of the gang again.

The DG returned with a glass of wine for me. He put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze.

“You look really good.” He said.

“Oh thanks,” I replied, not really taking in his compliment.

“No, you look really good.”

I smiled back. Thank God I bought this overpriced pink shirt instead of wearing that monstrosity of a jumper. I’m sure he wouldn’t be saying that I looked good then.

The DG and I continued talking about work. Out of the corner of my eye I saw CS trying to kiss Jaz, while a small crowd was egging him on. I had wondered if he were doing this to make me jealous but I kept thinking. Been there. Done that. Why bother kissing him in public when he can eat me out in private. I rolled my eyes and refocused on the DG.

The DG was saying how he’d been looking for me online all week, but I wasn’t there. “Oh yeah.” I said quite flippantly, “I’ve been busy, you know”

“I’ve been thinking about you. A lot. I miss you around the office. Come back and work here.”

“Let me know if there’s a position available.”

I put my arm around him. We embraced. Out of the corner of my eye I see CS pointing a video camera in our direction. I give CS a pointed look then turn my attention back to the DG.

The DG puts his hand around my waist. I pull away knowing that CS is filming.

“We’re being filmed.” I whisper to him. The DG turns around
“Let’s move towards the back.”

As we squeeze our way to the back of the pub Doggums tries to follow. I pick her up just so she won’t feel scared from all the people towering over her.

As we squeeze by the DG accidentally brushes against might left breast.

“Oh, so I bet you’re going to tell me that was an accident, eh?”

He smiles. “Accidents happen. Do you remember that time when I accidentally touched your boob.”

“A few seconds ago?”

“No, when you first started working here. We were here in the pub. There were only 3 of us here.”

“No. Still doesn’t ring a bell.”

“I brushed up against you, accidentally. And you pointed it out and said I did it on purposes.”

I stare at him as if he’s tyring to tell me something compeltley untrue.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember. Well, that’s when I first fancied you.”

“Oh my god?!? You fancy me?” I say genuinely surprised and in a hushed tone.

“Of course I do.”

I feel shocked. I mean I know he liked flirting with me, but I put it off as him being a big flirt. I didn’t realize that he actually fancied me.

“Well, I have a little confession of my own to make,” I say coyly, “I have a little bit of a crush on you too.”

I set Doggums down on the ground and the DG and I hug again. I hope no one here is keeping track of the amount of hugs that we’ve shared this evening so far.

Doggums gets starts barking and I feel like I should go home.

I look at the clock on the wall. “What time are you catching the train?” I ask him.

He’s vague, “Oh yeah, I’m just catching a late one. They run all night. Did you take the train here?”

“No I drove.”

“Ah.”

“Have you seen my car?”

“In pictures, not in person.”

“You have to see it. It’s fab.”

I pick up Doggums with one hand and carried my glass of wine with the other. We all squeezed our way to the front of the pub. We exit the pub. Strangely it’s a warm winter night. Feels like spring. It’s one of those nights were it’s just warm enough that you don’t need a coat.

I set Doggums down and the DG and I walked around the corner to my car.

“Very nice,” he says.

I set my wine glass on the curb and follows suit with his beer glass.

“I was going to get a Volkswagon Polo, but I thought this suited my personality more.”

“I love the color. It really does suit you.”

“Thanks.”

And in a moment of shared madness, I turned towards him, looked into his eyes and moved my mouth towards his. We kissed. It was slow. Passionate. Beautiful. He cupped his hands around my face as we kept kissing. It was awesome.

There’s nothing better than kissing someone you fancy for the first time. Shit, that kiss I had with the BFE on our first state has to be one of the best kisses ever. My kiss with the DG is a contender for the top three.

In the middle of kissing I suddenly had a reality check:
A. He’s married
B. We’re a stones throw from the pub and anyone could see us
C. He’s a friend who I admire and respect.
D. His poor wife

Then out of nowhere, my morals, which had been on a semi-permanent vacation kicked in.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I said. “We can’t do this.”

I backed away. He pleasant and respectful in agreeing with me. As I went to pick up my wine glass to head inside I said to him,

“Don’t get me wrong, kissing you is great but, it’s just….”
“I know…”
“But if it’s any consolation, I’m really, really wet now.”

Before I can pick up my glass he grabs my hand and we start running down the empty street. Doggums follows. We turn the corner into an alleyway. He backs me into a brick wall grabbing both my hands, and kisses me.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says.

He kisses me fervently and even though one or two people walk past we don’t care. He lets go of my hands and I take his glasses off his face setting them down carefully. We continue kissing. I wrap my arms around him and he wraps his arms around me.

It all feels amazing and then my morals kick in again. And even though I don’t want to stop. I have to. He seems understanding. I pick up his glasses for him. We walk back to my car. We pick up our wine / beer glasses and head back inside the pub.

I suddenly felt so weird. As if, I were in some parallel universe. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I never imagined a day where I’d be making out with the DG. I chatted with a gay pal, the Impaler for a bit. He looked good.

“So does the DG still fancy your boobs. Especially in blue satin?
“Shhhhh! Dude. That’s a secret and he’s right behind us!”

I feel totally weirded out. Out of the corner of my eye I saw CS a few feet from me. He was sitting down at the table with his head buried in his hands. I almost felt something for him then. There’s something cute about a guy being vulnerable. Whatever it was I quickly snapped out of it.

“I’m going home.” I announced. It just felt too weird being there. Being there with the DG who I just made out with. And CS who I used to make out with. It was as if my past, present and future were all there at once.

I put on my coat and waved bye to the DG.

“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, I gotta go” I answered.
“Wait for me. Just wait 15 minutes.”

I looked at the clock on the wall.

“Okay.”

I spent another 15 minutes chatting with Stephanie, Fred and the Impaler. As the last call bell sounded more and more people left the pub.

The DG and I were among the last to go. He asked me for a ride to Kings Cross. I said yeah.

Having a 2-seater cer is great. It means that you never have to offer a ride to more than one person. And even though there were a couple more people who needed to go to Kings Cross, they would just have to take the Northern line..

I put the dog and the dog bed in back. The DG and I got in the car and began the short drive to Kings Cross.

In the car he reaching over and kissing my ear and neck. It felt good. Fuck it felt so good. At the red lights we’d turn and kiss. I used to hate couples I’d seen doing that, now I was one of them. I started to lose my concentration on the road.

“I’m going to have to pull over,” I told him.

I looked for a quiet deserted street where we could park. Ironically enough, it happened to be in Mayfair.

On a dark, tranquil street I pulled the car over. We continued kissing, but quickly it progressed. He lifted my shirt up and reached for my breast. He released my left breast from my pink bra and began sucking on it. He nibbled my nipples just the right way. I almost came from the way he nibbled on them.

We continued our kissing and I reached for his belt buckle furiously unfastening it. I reached down his pants and found his cock. It was rock hard. I somehow felt victorious finally getting it. For a cock it was beautiful. Pristine and uncut. I assumed the position and place my mouth just on the head of his cock. I suckelekd it just a bit before lounging it down my throat. .

He began breathing heavily and sighing with pleasure. The car windows steamed up. I cupped his balls with my right hand.

I sucked him off until he was at breaking point. Then I strategically stopped.

I unbuckled my jeans. He pulled down my pink panties and began fingering me. With the small amount of space in the car it was hard to get into a good position to get fingered. So I didn’t cum. But I somehow didn’t mind.

I wanted to mount him but he insisted that we didn’t fuck. I sure wanted to even thought I knew it was wrong.. He rubbed his cock against my pussy but didn’t dare enter.

I sucked him off. He played with my boobs for a bit more. Then I gave him a hand job and he came on my tits.

The amount of cum that landed on my body was amazing. Probably a record as far as the guys I’ve been with goes.

He was silent after he came. The atmosphere was weird. It’s as if we’ve both been though some strange experience. As if we were war buddies walking back to the base after a humiliating defeat.

We drove on to Kings Cross. He kissed me passionately again before he got out of the car.

It all would been romantic if I didn’t have cum stuck in my hair.

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Sunday, January 14, 2007

Finger fucked at 70 MPH

Finger fucked at 70 MPH

Part 2 of Crusty Cock.... is coming soon. I've had a new adventure since then so enjoy!

On a whim I instant messaged D-Mac. He’s a pal of mine that worked at the same company as me when I was working on that World War II documentary. Remember back then? Gees, that must have been June something.

D-Mac is totally cool. He’s my drinking buddy. He’s also good friends with CS (my ex-boss married tranny) but that’s neither here nor there. D-Mac a genuine guy.

I’ve started work on a new programme. It’s a three part series about video games. My research means I get to try out lots of games. Not just the latest video games, but games old school ones as well. This week I spent hours playing Pac Man on an Atari 2600 then I jumped to playing Zelda on the Wii.. Played some BurgerTime on Intellivision followed my one of my all time faves Super Mario Brothers which I STILL cannot beat. Next I went onto the Turbo Grafx system playing J.B. Harold Murder Club. Then I tried some Gallega on the BBC Micro. So yeah, it’s been a good week. I love doing “research.”

I have another few weeks of “research” to do then I’m doing some pre-interviews of a few gamers that may be in the series. It’s a lot of fun so far. MUCH MUCH better than that fucking World War II doc. So yeah I’m having a good time and I can’t believe they’re paying twice as much as the World War II doc. It’s like money for old rope (I just learned that saying the other day, btw).

I’ve had to do a lot of this research outside London. There’s a software company that has a backlog of most of the British and American old school video game consoles. So I’ve been coming here for the past week for my “research.”

Every day I drive past the old workplace where I was doing the WWII doc. So on a whim I instant messaged D-Mac and asked if he were drinking after work. He wasn’t planning on it, but said that he would get a few people together.

After my hardcore “research” yesterday I picked up the dog from the crèche and drove back to the old broadcast company where I used to work. I found a parking spot relatively close to the pub where I used to drink. I felt somewhat reminiscent. God, I spent so munch time (and money) in that pub. I used to ALWAYS be in the pub after work. Now that I’ve moved jobs several times I don’t feel that I’ve formed any close bonds with new people I work with. I miss the old place. I miss my old buddies. As much as I hated working on that documentary, I had a fantastic time working with the people there. I do sometimes wonder if I should have stayed there. Is it worth doing a job you hate because you love the people?

The French have this fantastic way of saying I miss you. Vous me manqué. That literally translates to. “You are missing from me.” And that describes precisely how I feel. I don’t miss the people I used to work with. They are missing from me. There’s part of me that isn’t the same because I no longer see them on a daily basis.

The slightly good news is that one of the cameramen I used to work with there is now working with me on video game documentary. And there’s also a sound engineer who’s there as well. Familiar faces are always nice.

I walked into my old stomping grounds and saw D-Mac at the end of the table. There was also Eagle Eye’s girlfriend. She is such an amazing person. There was my old drinking buddy. You know, the one who sent me his pic in response to my gumtree ad. {link} Then sitting next to D-Mac was CS. Shit.

That was jarring. I honestly had not expected him to be there. First of all we agreed not to speak to each other for six months. Secondly, every drinks night I’ve been to since I left the company he was not there. CS’s wife has him on a tight leash. He always has to be home at a certain time. He always has to have his phone on him. I think I see who wears the pants in that family. Ha! I just realized how funny that is given his situation – the thing about the pants that is. Anyhow, so in order for him to be out later than 7:00 PM he need s a green card from his wife. Not a green card in the American sense. But green card in the sense that he has a green light to stay out for a while. It seems rare that he gets a green card. Or sometimes he’s travelling to Prague for work.

So I was just plain shocked to see him. The good thing was, that actually wearing the sweater / jumper and skirt that he loves. He says it his favourite outfit of mine. I was wearing a pink cashmere sweater / jumper. It was tight-fitting. You could faintly see the outline of my pink Victoria’s Secret bra underneath. I was wearing a pink & mauve coloured tiered peasant skirt. {pic}. (Weird that some random person has a picture of my skirt on the net, eh?)

We didn’t talk initially. I didn’t make eye contact with him. I couldn’t make eye contact with him. I honestly didn’t know what to say. Perhaps, “How’s life been since our public cunnilingus session?”

Luckily, I had my dog with me. She’s a great ice-breaker. Sadly, the dog was constipated and had the worst gas. Her farts were deadly. Well, at least that’s ice breaker as well.

I talked to CS a bit in the pub. Obviously we couldn’t talk about ‘us’ but he kept asking me, “So how are you?” And I kept answering, “I’m really good thanks.”

He seemed to get along with my dog and my dog seemed to get along with him. Actually, my dog got along with everyone. I love how people fawn over her.

CS started a conversation about Aussie Rules Football. Boring. He droned on and on and. I zoned out. He started drunkenly singing the Australian National Anthem. The dog was getting restless. He had the farts. I just felt like I had to leave. So around 9:00 I packed up my things and left.

Before I left CS asked me twice if I wanted a drink. He was standing alone at the bar. I had to walk past him to exit the pub. He just sort of looked at me with some longing. It was the look of lust. The sort of look that said, “Leaving so soon?”

In a way, I wanted to stay; stay and see if something developed. On the other hand I felt that CS was soooooooo 2006. I don’t want to bring shit from 2006 into 2007.

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

“Um, yeah. The dog’s restless.”

“See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya, whenever.”

It was an awkward exit. It shouldn’t have been. I guess it was. I felt somehow that I should give him a hug before I left, but all his colleagues were here. Didn’t seem right.

I took the dog outside. Her farts were really bad. I took her to the grassy knoll next to the bar and just stood there waiting for her to poop. He kept sniffing around looking for the perfect spot. I realized that a half hour had gone by and she was still sniffing around and had not pooped.

I found myself looking at the pub door. Waiting and hoping that CS would come out.

Finally I was so cold I hopped in my car. I have a 2-seater. A Mazda MX (Mazda Miata for all you Americans). I sat in the car a further half hour and finally he came out.

I beeped my horn. He looked over.

“You want a ride to the station?” I asked.

“What are you doing here? I thought you left.”

“I was waiting for the dog to poop. And I was talking on the phone.”

“Oh? Ok, yeah, to the station.”

I threw the dog bed in the area behind the seat. I put the dog in his lap.

“Which station?” I asked him

“T.C.R.”

“That’s so close. What overland station do you need to go to?”

“Waterloo.”

“Then lets go there.”

He grabs my Sat Nav. He seems a bit too drunk to work it. He however doesn’t seem more drunk than when I usually see him. He maps out a route to Edinburgh. He then declares that we should do something spontaneous and crazy. This seems uncharacteristic of his personality to make such a declaration. So I one-up him and say that we should drive to Guilford.

“That’s far from here you know.”

“I know,” I say with a devilish glint in my eyes.

As I’m driving I’m reaching for his cock. He’s wearing jeans. My hand cups over his jeans by his bulge.

“Unzip it.” I demand.

“No. Oh no. That’s a very bad idea.”

“I know.”

He doesn’t unzip his jeans. But I’m patient as I know we have all the way to Guilford to go.

After driving out of central London with hit a highway. I’m not sure which one. The highway is completely deserted. There’s hardly anyone else driving on it. I’m doing 45 MPH.

I’m distracted because I’m feeling for CS’s cock. He reaches behind my back and attempts to put his hand on my butt. He’s slightly constrained by my pantyhose. He soon decides to reach around front.

He pulled his hand from behind me. He reached up my pink skirt and worked his way down my pantyhose. He fingers my clit and it feels SO good. He moves his faster and faster.

“Now do 70,” he demands, “If you don’t do at least 70 I’m going to stop fingering you.”

I open my legs wide, slouch slightly in my seat and mash my foot on the gas pedal. He moves his finger into my cunt and begins finger fucking me.

“Jesus, you so wet!”

I’m getting really worked up. I start breathing heavily. He gets turns on even more. I hold the steering wheel with one hand and reach for his cock with my other hand.

He gets really into it. He nuzzles my shoulder in a really cute and vulnerable way. I feel almost like I should hold him.

I need to pull over. I look for a deserted shoulder. All the shoulders a filled with trucks / lorries. We drive a bit further but then we suddenly arrive at our exit. Luckily right near the exit there’s a restaurant with a deserted parking lot. I pull into the lot and find the most secluded spot there. Unfortunately it’s next to a dumpster but that was the least of my worries.

As soon as we pull over we put the dog in the back. I lift up my skirt pull down my panty hose. I unbuckle his belt. I pull down his pants. The car is so small it’s difficult to manoeuvre around. I can’t even bend forward and give him head.

As I pull his cock out he says, “Not matter what happens DON’T let me cum. If I cum it’s cheating. If I don’t it’s not.”

What sort of fucked up logic is that? It’s all cheating. I wasn’t, however, prepared to debate this giving my current state of horniess.

I feel his cock. It no longer feels crusty. It now feels leather-like. Huh? What’s going on down there?

He continues to finger fuck me. Then he tells me that he wants to eat me. I LOVE MEN WHO LOVE EATING PUSSY! He slips his finger in my mouth so that I’m sucking up my own juices.

He dives nose first into my pussy. He licks my clit while putting one finger in my ass and another finger in my cunt.

The finger in my arse feels surprisingly good. There’s something about having a little backdoor pressure.

It does feel a bit creepy as the dog starts licking my hand at the same time.

I tell him that I want him to wear my pink skirt and fuck me.

I cum uncontrollably. I cum three times and he wants to lick me out more. I have to push him away to get him to stop. I was sooooo satisfied that I didn’t care that he didn’t fuck me.

I wanted to reciprocate by going down on him, but he wouldn’t let me. He got out of the car. The dog jumped out after him. He lit a cigarette.

“Shit I am in so much trouble! What time is it?” He asks?
“What time were you supposed to be home?”
“9.”

I checked my watch, “It’s 12:30.”
“Shit.”

“What am I going to tell my wife.”
“Tell her your battery died.”
“That’s too big of a lie to tell!”
“It’s believable.”
“I know. I’ll tell her that D-Mac turned my phone off.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. Shit!”

He finished his cigarette. We embrace.

“Hey. It’ll be okay,” I say. I didn’t totally believe that. At the same time I didn’t totally care. Now that I’ve cum he’s not my problem.

I drop him off at a mini cab place close to his house.

We kiss quickly. He hops out of the car. He waves good-bye.

My dog growls slightly, but I think that means she misses him.

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Sunday, December 31, 2006

Crusty Cock, Cunnilingus and Bare Ass Exhibitionism on Oxford Street Part 1

Crusty Cock, Cunnilingus and Bare Ass Exhibitionism on Oxford Street
Part 1


The boss is on holiday so I leave work early; 5:50 instead of 6:00.

Then again I got to work twenty minutes late this morning so rightfully I should have stayed thirty minutes more. Whatever.

I didn’t take lunch and in the whole scheme of things does it really, really matter? I think not.

They day is over. I’m all glammed up. I’m looking fierce. I’m wearing a short brown Lederhosen skirt, brown stockings, brown clogs, and a low cut pink and brown striped v-neck shirt that shows off my tits just right.

I’m also wearing an Agent Provocateur pink bra (size 34DD) with matching pink & white lace panties.

Small pink diamond earrings and an unassuming pink necklace match brilliantly my fingernails, which are also painted a dark mauve.

I’m wearing make-up, but not too much. I’m going for the understated natural beauty look. Hints of pink & brown blended eye shadow along pink lip gloss and just a tad of eyeliner adorn my face.

Fuck me, I look great!

I’m walking to the tube and my phone rings. Shit. It’s him. CS. There’s a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach telling me that he’s going to cancel again.

It’s a familiar story. He’ll make a date, promise to be there then back out at the last very last minute. Then I’m the idiot for accepting his apology. I’m even more of an idiot for agreeing to go out at a later date.

So I’m shocked when CS says, “I’m just getting on the tube now. Be there in thirty minutes.”

“Okay see you soon,” I reply. I hang up and flip the mobile closed. I’m grinning from ear to ear.

It’s finally kicking off: My date with CS; my former boss; big time TV producer; married; two kids; two BAFTAs and by night a closet cross dresser. Or as he prefers to be called, a tranny.

We were supposed to meet up the previous week but he backed out. After about 8 times of him backing out in the past 6 months, you think I’d get the hint. He likes the idea of extreme flirting: net sex & phone sex. The reality, however, scares him shitless. He’s scared to cheat on his wife. He’s even more scared to delve into the world of transvestism.

See, I’m the first person in 12 years that he’s told about his cross-dressing. Apparently, his wife doesn’t even know. I often think, “Why me? Why did he tell me?” Maybe I’m just a gullible mug ready to listen to any bleeding heart story? Maybe I’m just a friendly face? Or maybe on some deeper level we understand each other?

Back in the 90’s CS was in a relationship with another male to female transvestite up in Grimsby. The relationship ended when his lover Stephan(ie) killed herself. Then for reasons I can’t fathom CS decided that he wanted to live a “normal” life.

He met a girl, got married and had 2 kids. Happily ever after? Well, if you consider happy being a philandering closet cross-dresser, then there you go. Well, at least he has a BAFTA or two.

The first 7 times CS cancelled his dates on me I took it in stride. I’m the sort of person who is VERY reluctant to give someone a second chance. Let alone a third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and 8th chance.

Usually I’m not so bothered to pursue someone. But I really, really wanted to fuck him. Moreover, I wanted to fuck him before 2007. Be it lofty or not it, was my goal to fuck CS before the end of 2006. And if I got to fuck him while he’s wearing a skirt, all the better. I don’t know when that became my goal, or more importantly why. I, however, wanted to fuck him more than anyone else in 2006, including the BFE.

The 7th time he cancelled on me (2 weeks ago) I freaked out. I sent him a text saying, “Game over.” I just got tired of all his flirting that ultimately leads nowhere. It’s like he’s just leading me on.

I then sent the red lacy camisole and knickers that I had bought for his birthday to him at work. I didn’t put it in the post. Oh, no, I put it in a Tesco’s bag and gave it to my friend Goldie works in the same office as CS.

“Put this on CS’s desk.” I said, dropping the bag in front of her as we waited for our lunch at Wagamama a fortnight ago.

“What is it?” Goldie asked.

“It’s knickers and a camisole?”

“Yours?”

“No they’re way too big for me. They’re his size.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah, he’s cross dresser. Don’t tell anyone, though.”


I know, I’m being a bitch by telling one of his co-workers. But after all, she’s my pal and I was in bitch mode. At that point I sort of didn’t care who knew about CS’s cross dressing. As far as I’m concerned that’s his asshole tax for blowing me off 7 times.

The next day while I was at work and he instant messaged me.

CS
Hello

Anjelika

Hi

CS
How are you?

Anjelika
Ok

CS
I got your gift. It’s lovely. Thank you.

Anjelika

You’re on my shit list.


I was actually tired of his shit. I didn’t want to talk to him. So I just signed off. The next day instant messaged me again.


CS
Hello.

Anjelika
Yeah?

CS
What do I have to do to get off your shit list?

Anjelika
I don’t have time for this. You figure it out!


I signed off and went back into the editing suite.

The next day in the evening while I was at home watching TV my mobile rang. It was him. The disturbing thing is when I get a phone call on my mobile a picture of the person calling me pops up. So the first thing I saw was a picture of him.

I let my mobile ring and ring until voicemail picked up.

He didn’t leave a message so I sent him a text:

Dec 20, 2006 22:23
From: AJ <+447XXXXXXXXX>
CS, what do you want?


Dec 20, 2006 22:26
From: CS <+447XXXXXXXXX>
Meet 2morrow?

Dec 20, 2006 22:35
From: AJ <+447XXXXXXXXX>
Enough of your games. If I
actually believed that you’d
turn up I MIGHT consider it.


My phone rang again. I let it go to voicemail. He left me a message. He said that he’s not playing any games and that his wife gave him a green card to go “Christmas shopping” tomorrow evening. He wants me to meet him at 6:15.

I somehow expected him to sound worried or concerned. I thought I’d hear a pang of fear in his voice, but none of that! If anything he sounded smug; confident like he couldn’t care less if I meet him or not. What’s that all about?

So here it is, 5:50 and CS just called me to say he’s getting on the tube.

It’s all kicking off. I get on the Northern line and luckily get a seat. I re-apply my pink lip gloss while simultaneously scanning through the London Lite to see if they’ve published any more entries of my blog.

I try to imagine how tonight will go. Basically he has an hour to meet me then he has to spend the rest of the night shopping. Shit. There’s not a lot you can do in an hour in a pub. So maybe we’ll just talk there. The one thing I can’t count on is having a lot of time with him.

I meet him at the Moon Under the Water bar on Charring Cross Road. As I approach the entrance I hear him call my name. I turn around. There he is: Tall, handsome, blonde. His hair is slightly shorter than when I last saw him. I think I preferred it a bit longer even though the haircut looks nice. Very corporate. He’s in nondescript blue suit with a light blue shirt and dark blue tie. He’s carrying a black backpack and a white plastic John Lewis bag.

“Hey,” I say without a single hint of bitch mode.

“How’s it going?” He asks.

“Yeah, pretty good just getting ready for Christmas.”

“Yeah, I have to get something for my wife and kids tonight.”


If there’s anything that kills the mood when you’re with your mistress it’s bringing up the wife and kids. Not that I’m officially a mistress or anything, but still!

“Why did you pick this bar?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he confesses, “It’s near the shops as well.”

“I know a few pubs near Soho Square, let’s go there,” I suggest.

“Okay, I need to hit a cash machine first.”


He seems weird. Apprehensive; discombobulated; not very relaxed.

We walk by three cash machines all with massive queues. Shit, looking for these cash machines is eating into my one-hour of alone time with him.

We finally finds a Lloyd’s bank on Oxford Street. Even though it has just as long queue as the other three ATMs I have to concede that it’s Christmas time. Every ATM has a long queue of people in front of it.

CS seems slightly more relaxed once we’re in the queue, but we have a completely superficial conversation about the lack of cash machines in central London. We both agree that New York is much better.

By the time we find a bar that isn’t overcrowded and actually sit down with our drinks our hour of alone-time has boiled down to 25 minutes. Brilliant.

I waste no time drinking my Cosmo. In fact I drink it a little too fast. It actually took longer for the bartender to make the Cosmo than it did for me to drink it. Mental note: order 2 Cosmos at a time next time.

The Cosmo was just okay. London bars suck at making mixed drinks. That’s one thing I miss about New York: the killer Cosmos.

CS orders something that looks like a Chocolate Martini but is actually something else completely. Before we order a second round of drinks He hands me the John Lewis bag he’d been carrying.

“I got you something for Christmas. I didn’t wrap it. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” I say, feeling truly flattered that he got me something.

“I hope I got the right size.”


I opened up the bag and inside was a white & pink flowery camisole and matching knickers.

“I hope you like.”

“I love it!” I’m gushing, I know, but I feel truly flattered.



I’m feeling decidedly tipsy as I’m downing my second drink. We’re sitting close together at an L-shaped table. I’m feeling brazen and slightly drunk. I’m looking into his eyes thinking, “Please kiss me.” Somehow my Jedi Mind Trick doesn’t work. Instead I blurt out with,


“How much money do you make?”

“I’m not going to tell you that.”


Ok so it’s okay for him to tell me he’s a tranny but salaries are off the table?!? Right! I sooooo do not understand English Culture.

“Well, okay. About how much do you make? Do you make more than 100K?”

He looks at me slightly offended, “I was making more than that ten years ago.”

“Oh sorry, I had no clue.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Just curious.”

Awkward pause.

“Why does your wife work? She doesn’t even need to.”

“I don’t know. She only works part time.”

“Oh. But still if you have the choice to work or not too, I would just not. Then I could focus on the things I really want to do.”

“Like what?” He asks.

“Be a writer.”

“A writer?”

“Yeah, that’s what I went to college for. I’m doing fuck all with my degree now. Don’t get me wrong I love working in TV, but I’m really in it for the money.”

“I had lunch last week with one heads of another network,” he declares as if I should find this news earth-shattering.

“Which one?”

“[______]”

“Yeah, I hear they don’t pay a lot,” I say, trying not to sound too discouraging.

“They don’t.”

“How did your lunch / interview go?”

“I think it went okay, but I dunno. I might have gone on too much about [__ the TV show he produces __],”

“See, you’re the sort of person who has big, sort of grand ideas. But strangely you get caught up in all the technical details.” I tell him.

I know how much he loves to be analyzed so I go on,

“CS, you’re really intelligent. Maybe too intelligent for what you’re doing. You spend most of your time at work bored shitless even though you’re great at what you’re doing.”

He takes a sip of his drink, “I know. They’re trying to push me out. I can feel it. Eagle Eye is scrutinizing everything I’m doing. It leave me second guessing everything.”


I love when he’s vulnerable.

I reach for his hand under the table. I lean forward.

“I want to kiss you,” I say in a really seductive voice.

He looks back at me almost apologetically and says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Shit balls! Fuck. Shit. Fuuuuuuck. That is like THE WORST sort of rejection you can get from a guy. Clearly he isn’t drunk enough.

This is going to take lots more persistence and my hour with him is now officially over.

[End of part one. Part two coming soon! It's taking me ages to type out.]

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Saturday, September 23, 2006

Late night chat with the Tranny

Late night chat with the Tranny

Anjelika says:
Yo

CS says:
hi]

CS says:
your up late

Anjelika says:
you too

CS says:
there isa good film on film 4

Anjelika says:
ok i'll turn it on

Anjelika says:
i just got home from dinner

CS says:
cool

CS says:
did you go out with Mr.MusicBiz?


Anjelika says:
why are you up late

Anjelika says:
nah, he’s is out of the country

CS says:
watching the film

CS says:
drinking vodka

CS says:
who did you go out with

Anjelika says:
An old friend of mine

CS says:
cool

Anjelika says:
drinking vodka, eh? sounds like fun

CS says:
not really

CS says:
a tad sad

Anjelika says:
i've been driving so no drinking for me tonight

CS says:
in your new car

Anjelika says:
Yeah

CS says:
Cool

CS says:
any news? is it still on with Mr.MusicBiz?

Anjelika says:
it’s casual. he’s in the states recording an album or something.

CS says:
i didnt go to the minion’s leaving do

Anjelika says:
No? me neither

Anjelika says:
i called stephanie to see if she were going

CS says:
oh well, probably would have been fun

Anjelika says:
she said no, so i didn't go either

Anjelika says:
i was feeling tired anyhow

CS says:
you fancy stephanie

Anjelika says:
do I? you think i fancy everyone

CS says:
you do ... but stephanie more than most

Anjelika says:
no i don't fancy everyone. most people are off my radar i never really thought about fancying her

CS says:
she's quite nice

Anjelika says:
i love her to bits
she's cool in my book

CS says:
me also, she gets at least one cool star

Anjelika says:
So i can't believe you haven't seen me in like 2 months and you don't even miss me

CS says:
ovcourse i miss you

Anjelika says: 07)
\/\/hat EVER

CS says:
blimey it dosnt seem like too months

CS says:
:)

Anjelika says:
out of sight out of mind


CS says:
not at all. Pah. you worry too much,

CS says:
i cant beleive you dont have any news your life is normally so exciting

Anjelika says:
how do you know i don't have any exciting news

CS says:
do you

Anjelika says:
hmm i might. nothing this week, really

CS says:
cooool, pray tell me ...

Anjelika says:
what do you qualify as being 'exciting’

CS says:
err, sexy, funny or weird

Anjelika says:
have i told you about the radiohead show

CS says:
no

CS says:
what happened

Anjelika says:
i gave the BFE a handjob at the radiohead show

CS says:
in the crowd?

Anjelika says:
yeah, of course. at the V festival

CS says:
shit !

Anjelika says:
it was excellent.

Anjelika says:
i thought i told you

CS says:
no you didn’t

CS says:
cool, does he have a nice dick

Anjelika says:
i love his cock

CS says:
did he make a move first

Anjelika says:
yeah, he made the first move

CS says:
Cricky. its making me hard just thinking about it

Anjelika says:
i like making guys hard

CS says:
you are such a tease

Anjelika says:
i know. i love it

CS says:
you need this outfit
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/f/f5/French_maid.jpg


Anjelika says:
we met up for dinner a couple days later.

CS says:
bloody hell, you went to dinner with him,

Anjelika says:
anyhow after dinner i invited him back to my place

CS says:
did he come


CS says:
you are such a bad girl

Anjelika says:
i know. i'm so bad!

Anjelika says:
yeah so we went upstairs

CS says:
uh huh

CS says:
cofee, tea

Anjelika says:
i pulled down his trousers as soon as we got in the door

CS says:
bloody helltell me more!

Anjelika says:
nah, it’s private

CS says:
did he lick you out

Anjelika says:
im not telling you any more.

CS says:
i bet he did, your quite parcial to that. have you ever put your finnger in his arse

Anjelika says:
it none of your beeswax

CS says:
you are very naughty.
i bet a big cock like his really filled you up.

Anjelika says:
La la la

CS says:
do you like big cocks then

Anjelika says:
no. my pussy is really tight if a i go awhile without having sex, then it actually hurts for a bit when i do have it

CS says:
a nice hurt or a hurty hurt?

Anjelika says:
A nice hurt, usually. i think that's the best way to tell if a guy is big. if his cock feels like he's impaling me then it's big. i am fascinated by big cocks, but scared at the same time. i prefer med or small cocks

CS says:
when you suck a guy off do you like it when they come in your mouth

Anjelika says:
Ive only let 2 guys come in my mouth. i didn’t like it the first and only time i tried it with my ex. But somehow this year I really started getting into it. i love snowballing now.

CS says:
blimey!

CS says:
you are such a slut,

Anjelika says:
i know

Anjelika says:
So is ther anything exciting going on with you

CS says:
errr, not really, some stuff about the present following information in radio

CS says:
:/

CS says:
i buy some pink knickers

Anjelika says:
pink is good

CS says:
when we meet up again, ill wear them

Anjelika says:
ha! that is IF you ever make a point to meet up with me

CS says:
i have spent 8 days in the prague since i saw yuou last

Anjelika says:
crazy

Anjelika says:
too bad i wasn't there

CS says:
i would take the opertunity to spank you for being so naughty

Anjelika says:
yes, well you know i'm trouble

CS says:
you are

Anjelika says:
you can't hang out with me ane expect to stay innocent

CS says:
im not inocent . not by a long chalk

Anjelika says:
true, but you're chickenshit

CS says:
yeah, that s true

Anjelika says:
all talk, not action

CS says:
thats me !

Anjelika says:
bah

CS says:
:)

Anjelika says:
how utterly disappointing

CS says:
you dont know if i have any action.

CS says:
i may be a fucking lion

Anjelika says:
sorry disconnected

Anjelika says:
battery died!

CS says:
ah ha

Anjelika says:
anyhow the last i read from you is that you said youmay be a fuckign lion

CS says:
:)

Anjelika says:
true, i don't know if you have any action. but it doesn't count unless it's action from me

CS says:
could you treat a girl like me to the kind of action I deserve

Anjelika says:
of course

Anjelika says:
but i'm way more pervy than you

CS says:
im not so sure

Anjelika says:
i sometimes think about you fuckign me in a skirt

CS says:
hmmmm

Anjelika says:
i'm sure i'm more pervy than you

CS says:
some time i think about fucking you dressed really pretty,

Anjelika says:
Oh?

CS says:
some times i think about you fucking me,

Anjelika says:
i'd like to try it once

Anjelika says:
i mean, maybe you're a horrible shag

CS says:
oh

Anjelika says:
but i'm quite curious

CS says:
you may be terrible, but i think I could teach you.

Anjelika says:
\/\/hat ever

Anjelika says:
i'm a better shag than you deserve

CS says:
:) thats definatly true.

Anjelika says:
would you ever let someone fuck you with a strap on?

CS says:
you, yes. but you would have to be dressed up really tarty

Anjelika says:
i've never tried that.

Anjelika says:
i like dressing up

Anjelika says:
have you ever fucked on a waterbed

CS says:
no

CS says:
is it good

Anjelika says:
i have

Anjelika says:
it is okay

Anjelika says:
you have to be really coordinated

CS says:
have you ever been fucked in the arse

Anjelika says:
Nope. so, you would let me fuck you with a strap on

CS says:
yes, but you would have to teate me gentle

Anjelika says:
ha

CS says:
it would feel nice to have you inside me

Anjelika says:
i'm curious to try it

Anjelika says:
i'd also like to fuck a girl with a strap on

CS says:
Ill be as girly as I can for you.

Anjelika says:
excellent

Anjelika says:
well, too bad you're chickenshit

CS says:
im reallly hard now

Anjelika says:
i bet you are

CS says:
are you wet

Anjelika says:
only slightly

CS says:
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

Anjelika says:
are you thinking

CS says:
yes

Anjelika says:
about what

CS says:
i think you could quite demanding

Anjelika says:
yes

Anjelika says:
i can be. is that a problem?

CS says:
no, its good toknow what you want

Anjelika says:
do you know what you want?

CS says:
no

CS says:
its also good to not know waht you want, then yo uare free !!!!

Anjelika says:
true

Anjelika says:
so are you still hard

CS says:
yes

CS says:
ish

Anjelika says:
remember when i was rubbing your cock on the train

CS says:
yes, i had my hand in your knickers

CS says:
pink

Anjelika says:
yes

CS says:
i know you liked that

Anjelika says:
i did

Anjelika says:
did you like it

CS says:
yes,

CS says:
did you want me to fuck you that night?

Anjelika says:
i was pretty drunk

CS says:
americans cant handle drink.

Anjelika says:
but i remember wanteing to suck you off

CS says:
especially not you

Anjelika says:
i know i'm bad with my drink, i admit

Anjelika says:
but in my defense, i didn't start drinking until i was 22

CS says:
a late developer

Anjelika says:
yeah

Anjelika says:
i was straight-edge for a hwile

Anjelika says:
no drink. no drugs

Anjelika says:
i still haven't ried any drugs

CS says:
lets do a couple of trips together then

Anjelika says:
trips, what do you mean

CS says:
acid

Anjelika says:
hmmmm i wil have to think about that

CS says:
a horrible chemical feeling, but quite unique


Anjelika says:
Unique?

CS says:
yeah, undescribable

Anjelika says:
how often do you do acid

CS says:
not since 98

CS says:
before quite a bit

Anjelika says:
i have a feeling that you wuould sttill be chickenshit

CS says:
i can handle any fucking drug. you may have had some sexual adeventure, but I have have truly been off my tits

Anjelika says:
i say that it's YOU that's the tease. not me

CS says:
girl i have to go to bed

Anjelika says:
me too

CS says:
wank about fucking me

Anjelika says:
i'll save my wakn for tomorrow.

Anjelika says:
bed for now

CS says:
night night

Anjelika says:
night

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Saturday, August 19, 2006

Wrong hands

I'm a bit happy because I saw the DG today. :-)

I had arranged via instant messenger to have lunch with my old team (sans the Minion).

My work had given me a laptop. I copied my old files on to a DVD. On my last day at work the previous Friday I made a copy of these files. I accidentally left the DVD in my laptop before I handed it back. Luckily I had a co-worker rescue the DVD. Now I could give a shit about old scripts and specifications I've written on the DVD. I really want the DVD back because almost every conversation I've had with the CS on it. No, I'm not coveting these conversations. I just don't want the to fall into the wrong hands.

I have nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, look how open I am. CS, has a lot to potentially be embarrassed about. He's an asshole any how so I guess I shouldn't care if he's embarrassed or not. I actually don't care now who in the office knows about us now. Since I'm not there there to deal with the consequences. [evil grin]

Anyhow, there are a few saucy conversations that the DG and I had that I absolutely do not want to get out. He's a mate and I don't want to get him into any shit.

So I met my old team for lunch and to get the DVD back. The DVD, however, was locked in the desk of someone who was not there at work. So I'll have to come back again to get it.

Even before I met my old team, I saw on instant messenger that CS was working form home. That means no chance, as Franz Ferdiand would say, of "I time every journey to bump into you accidentally." So it kind of seems like fate that him and I won't see each other again. What can I do?

Anyhow I had lunch with my team. Then I met up the DG and talked with him for about 10 minutes. There's one fantastic thing that being away does: it makes the reunion extra special. So it was very nice seeing the DG again. Especially since I was greeted with a kiss on the lips and a hug. I noticed, the receptionist, BKFITW, raised an eyebrow as this happened.

Oh, I forgot to mention earlier this week that the DG did not give me the job. I did make it into the top three. So I'm totally pleased with myself. He needed a producer with more experience. I'm not mad or bitter or anything. I'm just pleased for him that he got the right candidate. I'm also glad that it did not put a strain on our friendship.

In other news I did get a new job. I start on Monday. It's more money, however its further outside of London than I like. It's an exciting project so I can't wait. It's a real boost to my career. It's only for 3 months but could develop into a lot more.

The job I accepted was so much better than the one I interviewed for with the DG. I think one reason I wanted the job with the DG is because where I worked was very social. Everyone liked me. I was the popular girl. That hasn't happened to me in a while, being the popular girl, that is. I was never the popular girl in high school. I was sacrificing my career because I wanted to be popular. I was afraid to make a move from my job even though I knew I deserved better. I was wiling to stay because being well-liked and popular was more important than advancing my career.

Now that I'm getting a mortgage, I guess it's time to move on. Anyhow, in the past year about 10 people have left at my old work. Stephanie left last week too. She was really one of my pals. I guess I have to look out for #1 first and now worry about what pals I have. It is difficult, however, when you're an immigrant and you only have your pals in this foreign land to rely on.

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Thursday, July 20, 2006

Heavy Petting on the Northern Line

Heavy Petting on the Northern Line Charing Cross Branch to Mill Hill East.

Fucking your boss is never a great idea, but it sure as hell has its advantages.

No, I’m not fucking my boss… yet… but I somehow get a thrill thinking about doing it one day. It’s all about power. Power is sexy. I want to be on top of the guy who’s on top. Tony Soprano is sexy because of all the power he wields. I understand why Monica Lewinsky went for Bill Clinton. It’s such an ego boost. It’s like, “Hey I’m fucking the top guy. That must make me shit.”

This adventure here in which I get finger-fucked on the Northern Line has a long back-story. I’m a bit sick of reiterating in detail (as I’ve already told several people), but I’ll summarize it quickly.

A couple years ago when I was hired here at this Big Media/Television company I began my career here as a production assistant. Sometimes being a PA is shit work. It’s a lot of running around followed by a lot of waiting. I was assisting on a semi-popular reality TV show. At the end of filming there was a wrap party for the cast, crew & participants. At the wrap party after a few glasses of champagne the 1st AD and I began talking. I call him CS.

I never talked to CS (or at least don’t remember) while we were filming. He’s tall, blond hair, blue eyes. He is THE alpha male in the office. He loves cracking jokes and getting the attention of everyone in the room. I guess somehow, I was the only person he failed to impress with his so-called wit and humor. When he speaks, the whole room listens. I, on the other hand, could not care less. I do not shower him with attention like the others. Somehow he managed to catch my attention at the wrap party. He cornered me, literally and we spoke for an hour. A the end of the party we nearly snogged. At the last second he dodged my lips and went for the kiss on the cheek.

He eventually went on to become a director and would request me, specifically to work on his projects. We got to know each other better during the year. For about a year we were flirty with each other but nothing happened. Then one day we were on a shoot in Prague. There were 8 of us crew members out drinking. Slowly that number dwindled down to the two of us.

We went back to his hotel room. I didn’t fuck him. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly. We snogged a few times. I purposely was playing hard to get so I didn’t let things go any further. Finally, CS asked me what it would take for me to fuck him. Without missing a beat I told him I wanted a promotion and raise. At the time, he wasn’t the one making those sort of decisions. He did, however, have influence. He put in a very good word for me, which lead to a promotion an sizable salary increase within 2 months. I know, it’s a cheeky way to move up the corporate ladder. At the time I was promoted, he too was promoted again, and officially became my boss. My promotion lead to the job I hold currently.

Now, in that 2 month period between asking for the promotion and getting it a few interesting things happened:
1. CS became besotted with me [read: obsessed]
2. CS admitted that he fancied me and it wasn’t just about the sex. (I know, could be a line.)
3. One drunken night during after-work drinks he pulled me aside and said that he had a secret to tell me. He said, “I have to tell you something, but I don’t know if I should.” He was nervous and serious. My curiosity piqued. “Oh go on” I encouraged him. He sighed and then said, “I’m a transvestite.” I looked him in the eye and said, “OK, no big deal. I’m a New Yorker. I’ve heard more shocking things.” I think he was stunned at how blasé my response was.

So outwardly, I was cool as a cucumber. Inside I was freaked the fuck out! Inside I was screaming, “OH MY GOD! That is some fucked-up shit” And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, he said. “There’s more.”

He then proceeded to tell me about how in his twenties he fell in love with a tranny named Stephan(ie). Now Stephanie identified as a woman. I didn’t ask if (s)he kept her bait and tackle. Anyhow, according to CS they were a love-struck, drugged-up, fucked-up couple on the dole living in a bedsit in Grimsby. CS said that Stephanie was profoundly unhappy and the drugs made it worse. He went on to say that one day he came back to the bedsit and found that Stephanie, the love of his life, had killed herself.

At this point I was overwhelmingly confused. How do you go from a drugged-up, on the dole, sort of gay relationship in Grimsby to married with kids and a great job and big house in London? Shit like that happens in the movies. How does that happen in real life? Also, why is he telling me this? Does he think that I look like a tranny? It was at that point in our conversation that I realized that I will never lead a normal life. I will always be surrounded by freaks.

I then started wondering what he would look like as a woman. How often does he dress up? Why hasn’t he told his wife? Who else knows? What is the point in telling me all this? Is there a such thing as a straight transvestite? And more importantly, how do I respond?

There was a lull in our conversation and finally I summed up everything with one word, “Crikey.”

So now, I have this huge secret about my boss. How bizarre? I mean to think that he’s one of the major people at the big Media/Television company? What would everyone else at the company say? This shit is unreal and if it weren’t happening to me, I would believe it.

I honestly don’t blame people for e-mailing me saying how all these stories are fantasies. These “stories” aren’t fantasies. This is my life. I know. It’s crazy. It’s fucked up. It’s wonderful. It’s sad. But it’s all me. This isn’t a fantasy life. There is no escape hatch for me.

So that is the back story with me & CS.

So last night, after work drinks. He left at quarter after 10. On his way out, I said to him, wait for me on the next corner. I went back into the pub, exited undetected through the side door and met CS at the corner.

We held hands as we walked several blocks together. We were somehow quietly confident that none of our co-workers were nearby.

We got on the Northern line. Our train car was more than half empty. We took to seats near the end. I told him that I had had a particularly naughty week. He urged me to tell him about it. I played it coy. “Tell me” he seductively whispered into my ear. I think proceeded to tell him about Humbert Humbert guy, who I called “daddy.” I also told him about D the really cute guy I met at the hotel.

CS grew more and more interested. Then I put my hand on his thigh. I felt a large bugle. “Oh my!” I said. I looked down, and realized that the bulge wasn’t his cock. It was just something in his pocket. “For a minute there, I thought that was your cock,” I said. He laughed, “Well, it could be…”

“Really?” I asked “Is your cock large?”

He looked a bit confused, “I don’t know. I don’t know who to compare it with?”

“Can I have a feel then” I asked, “I mean, is that too cheeky a thing to ask?”

He smiled. “Yes, go for it.”

I felt over his jeans for his cock. When I found it I smiled. I stroked it a few times. “Is that okay,” I asked? He answered yes, but I could tell that there was part of him feeling very guilty. He was between agony and ecstasy; right and wrong; cheating and remaining faithful.

I moved from stroking his cock over his jeans to squeezing it every so gently. By this time a couple took a seat across from us. I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned he and I were the only ones on the train.

I could feel his cock swell. “Anjelika,“ he hesitated “I’m married. I fancy you and I know that you fancy me.”

I looked at him strangely, “Who said anything about me fancying you?” I questioned him.

“Anjelika your hand is on my cock. I take it from that, that you fancy me.”

“Oh , right” I said. What a good way of looking at it. Sometimes with all my book smarts I just don’t have common sense. I honestly did not realize that I had fancied him until that moment. All this time I saw the situation as that he was a challenge to be conquered.

“But, I’m married and I don’t know…” his voice drifted off.

It’s cool. I’ll stop. I removed my hand from his cock and placed it by my side.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

I placed my hand on his jeans again. I felt for his cock. I kept squeezing. He wrapped on arm around me and reached for my bum.

“Oh,” he said sounding surprised “you’re wearing a thong.”

“Yes, it’s bright pink. Victoria’s secret. I’ll have to show you some time.”

I kept squeezing his cock. He brushed my hair aside and began kissing my ear which drives me crazy! He reposition himself and then stuck his hand up my jean skirt and began finger fucking me.

No, I didn’t cum. He only did it for 3 stops. I was really, really turned on at that point. He told me that I was a bad girl and I should be disciplined. I should be spanked. I concurred.

I wanted his cock so badly. I know that he wanted me too. But as he’s still married and drawn to his wife he got off the train at his usual stop.

Twenty minutes later I got call from him. He was on the overland train with a raging hard on. My panties were soaked through and I really wanted someone to fuck. But not just anyone. I wanted him.

CS and I exchanged a few saucy texts. At a certain point I stopped returning the texts. It’s my strategy to make him want more. He called me again, but I didn’t answer. I checked my voicemail later. He said that I’m very naughty and should be taken over his knee and spanked.

I’m going to save that voicemail. You never know when I may need to add to my cache of blackmail material about him.

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