Lucky 7

Maybe it's frivolous to you, but today marks 7 months with my current boyfriend. We met 8 online months ago and the rest is history, as they say.

One reason why I'm really excited about this is because this has been my longest relationship ever. I know, that sounds a bit pathetic since I am in my 30's.   There are people who I graduated from high school with who have been married divorced and are on their second marriage now.  So many my measly 7 months would be insignificant to them, but to me it's a lot.

To a certain extent I've been one of those people who have alluded relationships.  I've made bad choices in men.  I've played the field.  I've gone after men who were unattainable / unavailable. I think for a while I really didn't know what I wanted.

I guess what is important now is that I know what I want.  Mazel Tov to me!

Fetishes, Kinks and Extreme Dating

With Special Guests Suzanne Portnoy and my Boyfriend, RTC.

"The nature of internet dating is that you do end up fucking quite a few nut jobs" - Suzanne Portnoy.

Topics include: dealing with wackos, guys that can't shut the door, text messaging,  extreme dating websites, fetishes, kinks, anal sex, prolonging orgasms.

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Surprise Revelation

After three days of tension and arguing with my boyfriend, life seemed to go back to normal.

We were talking again and laughing again. The cold steeliness of his glare had transformed into a warm, loving gaze.

We spent time cuddled on the sofa. We hugged, caressed, and kissed other. It was genuine and affectionate. I felt optimistic that the rough seas of the days before were finally past us. I felt hopeful for days of smooth sailing ahead.

Suzanne came over that evening. My boyfriend, RTC, loves entertaining. He cooked us a gourmet meal. Roast chicken with butternut squash and tomato.

We had red wine, lots of red wine. My boyfriend was at his best: tipsy on red wine, in the company of two beautiful women and enjoying intelligent conversation. He thoroughly enjoyed talking with Suzanne. “She is just so ‘Sex in the City’,” he kept telling me after she left.

He seemed happier than I had seen him in a long while. Maybe it was the wine but he actually agreed to join Suzanne and I on a podcast.

During the recording he was affectionate and articulate. He seemed unguarded in when speaking.

I was stunned when he revealed that we’re hoping for a baby. Suzanne looked over at me at bit surprised. I looked back at her feeling shocked as well. Certainly, that was news to me. I didn’t think we were trying, although we weren’t not trying.

I looked back up at my boyfriend. I felt amazed, surprised and happy. He gave me a kiss on the head “Yes, I definitely want to have a baby with you.”

After the recording, Suzanne left. RTC and I went to bed. I put on my special negligee thinking that we might make love. We crawled in bed together. It was the first time in three days that we’d been in the same bed. It felt great spooning with him again.

It was nearly midnight. I really wanted to make love to him. We were both so tired we collapsed in each others arms and fell fast asleep. We stayed entwined until the morning.

The Bitch Bites Back

Hi Anjelika,
Just wanted to let you know, I have only called your boyfriend once in the last few months, that one time you answered the phone. I have only sent him one email that he requested me to send. He has initiated contact 10 out of the 13 times we have chatted online in the last two months.
So if you have a problem with us talking to each other, I think you should take it up with him. I'm sorry if you are uncomfortable with me talking to him. We are good friends and hopefully will always remain so.
Sorry if you feel so insecure in your relationship not to allow your boyfriend to have friends, that's very sad. I hope everything works out for the two of you. Take care.
-J.

Contemplating my next move. What do you think I should do?

Dear Bitch (The Ex-Factor)

Dear Bitch (otherwise known as my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend),

Apparently you have a lot of problems: emotional, financial, etc. Even though you live in California the “only” person that can understand your problems is my boyfriend, right?

Your problems are of your own creation and have nothing to do with my boyfriend. He cannot fix you, your four-year old autistic son, the fact that you are knocked-up now and the baby daddy has absconded, or your money problems.

My boyfriend isn’t an emotional crutch in which you are to lean on.

Perhaps if you two were in a serious relationship I could understand your need to still speak with him. However being that your “relationship” with him was all but 5 months long– ALL of which happened online with the exception of a 2-week in-person visit, then I can hardly accept this as serious.

Furthermore, within that 2-week period that he visited you (long before he met me) he apparently found you so contemptible by week 2 that he called the police on you.

You had your chance and you blew it.

I find your attempts to contact him now misguided and fraught with ulterior motive. The fact that you asked if you could get back together with him yesterday proves this.

I am not trying to play the part of the jealous, insecure girlfriend. I am Miss Anjelika Jinx and I know what you’re up to. I have been the seductress enough times that I know what depths women are willing to sink to.

Don’t call, e-mail or instant message him. If he wants to contact you, I’m fine with that; but don’t waste your breath waiting for that phone call.

Best wishes,
Anjelika

Hair Makes the Man

Coming home from podcasting with Wanda, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw my dog being walked by a stranger. How the hell did she get outside? Where was my boyfriend? Why isn't she on the lead?

As I approached closer, I realized that the man walking the dog wasn't a stranger. It was my boyfriend. He got a hair cut and he looked amazing.

We've been dating for about six month and within that time he hasn't had a cut. His hair wasn't long, but it was certainly on the longish side. I thought I liked it long, but OMG with it cut short I was amazed. I was stupefied! Even more, I was horny. I never wanted him more than I did at that minute I saw him.

How can a haircut make such a difference?

For the past few years all the guys I've been really attractive too have had the same basic look: Tall geeky clean-shaven white guys with short dark hair and thick-rimmed glasses and a bit of a belly. Think Louis Theroux. That would, in a nutshell, describe the BFE, the DG, the DG of the DG, the B.A.T.H, and a few others I've crushed on.

My boyfriend breaks the mold. I no longer prefer the Louis Theroux types. I won't give away my boyfriend's description, but he is hot! I am smitten. I have a new "type." He looks amazing and I can hardly wait for him to come home.

Three Years on and Moving On

I'm watching the V Festival on TV now. Lady Gaga is singing, "Poker Face." Watching the whole V Festival on TV makes me envious. I wish I were there. I want to be in the crowd having fun.

Honestly, I'm really bad at festivals. If you go to a festival, you don't want to go with me! I hate the crowds. I hate the mud. I hate the toilets. I hate the overpriced drinks. I'm short and I hate that the tallest person in Chelmsford somehow finds a way to stand in front of me every time. I don't get drunk. I don't get high. I'm a proper 'stick in the mud.'

I do enjoy the music. I do enjoy when people sing in unison. I do enjoy feeling like I've witnessed something amazing and moving.

Naturally, watching the festival started reminding of the 2006 V Festival (See The V Festival: Giving head during Radiohead Yeah remember the good old days when I actually wrote about sex?)

Three years ago I was at the V Festival with my Ex-boyfriend. Also in the audience was the BFE. I had abandoned my ex to look for the BFE. My mobile battery was almost dead. Communication was difficult. Miraculously the BFE and I found each other in the crowd to the left main stage: about 40 feet from the tree.

Even though months before we had ended our relationship I was really looking forward to seeing him. I had broken up with him in a pre-empttive dump; sort of like Israel and the 6 Day War.

Last I heard he had gone back to his wife. She had moved back into the martial home. The BFE and I we were O-V-E-R. But the memories of the hot sex we had were frequently on my mind. After all, there is a reason why he had the nick name, "The Best Fuck Ever"

I checked the BFE's left hand at the V Festival. The wedding ring was still on. I was disappointed.



We stood motionless next to each other during Radiohead's set. I was holding back my desire. Then during "No Surprises" he put his arm around me and all the feelings cam rushing back; all the memories; fucking on the kitchen table; breaking in the new Muji couch; the hand job in Heathrow; kissing in Mayfair; the dirty weekend in Prague. Fucking, fucking and more fucking. It was like someone opened the floodgates. I didn't hold back much longer. We kissed. We held each other. It started out as romantic but then turned seedy. I gave him a hand job right there in the crowd.

Three days later we were fucking all over again. It was a different sort of fucking. Instead of it being about enjoying each other's company it was about the release of frustration. It was sex riddled with guilt. Whereas before he and his wife had separate it was different this time. He was fucking me then going home to her. And there began the beginning of the end. And my God, what a painful end that was. (See Fallout and Foreplay)

It's amazing how things change three years on. I have a wonderful boyfriend now and the BFE seems like a distant memory. It doesn't even seem right that I'm still calling him the BFE. He's not the 'best fuck ever' anymore. He's just some dude I just to be crazy about.

It makes me excited now that my future is with my boyfriend, RTC. For a long time I seemed to go after men that were unavailable; the ones who could like but not love me. When you find someone who loves you thoroughly; the ones that give as good as they get (and I'm not talking about oral sex here) you realized that this is how it was meant to be.

I don't begrudge the 'bfe' or our time together. I do feel that I learned a lot. I learned a lot about myself. I also learned that he's the wrong guy for me. Even if you're sexually compatible it's not enough. I need to be with a guy that actually cares about me.

My boyfriend, RTC, doesn't like me writing about him. So I try to keep mentions of him to a minimum. It's one of the reasons why there haven't been many entires about sex here. He's not interested in being a part of the blog and I can understand that.

I just feel really happy to be with someone who loves me as much as I love him. I think that's the way things were meant to be.

Saturday Update

Happy 4th of July Everyone.

I'm heading down to Battersea park to be with other Americans here in London. Later tonight I'm heading down to Killing Kittens so that I can report on it for YouPorn Magazine

Since posting the last Andrew Charles Leonard post. 2 more women have e-mailed me to tell me they have been conned and hurt by him. He has e-mailed me further. There is also some press interest in the story so stay tuned. It'll be a humdinger when it comes out.

Some important decisions have been made regarding my current relationship. After a month of holding back, I finally had sex with my boyfriend. It was amazing. I can't really say much more but I feel happy. Really, really happy. It's hard to describe the feeling of knowing that someone you love is inside you. His cum is inside me now and I couldn't be happier.

The Safe Zone

During the week I had some drama with the boyfriend that almost resulted in us breaking up.

In retrospect, it was really a communication problem made worse by the fact that he lost his mobile phone. As of today we sorted everything. Well, almost everything. I still feel a sickness in the pit of my stomach knowing that we almost broke up. This got me thinking: Are we ever in the safe zone?

In American football once you cross your opponent’s goal line you’re in the end zone. Within the end zone you’re safe. You can’t be tackled. You can’t have the ball taken way from you. It’s your safe haven where you can smugly exist knowing that you just scored.

What is the relationship equivalent to the end zone? Cohabitation? Marriage? At what point is your relationship totally safe. When are there no more hazards? When do you get over the hump? After 1 year? Two years? Twenty years? Is it constantly in a state of flux?

An acquaintance of mine was recently dumped by her boyfriend of two years because he claimed he didn’t love her. Can you be dumped as easily after the first month as the first year?

When do things settle? Maybe I’m being anxious asking this only a month into my current relationship. As a child of divorce I’m prone to abandonment issues. Sometimes it’s difficult being able to trust that a guy is going to stick around for a while. I think of that Trent Reznor lyric from Hurt, “Everyone I know goes away in the end.”

Hmmm maybe not this time. I just want to be able to feel that I'm not one bad argument away from a break up. Time will tell

Sunday Bloody Sunday

I'm spending the weekend with the boyfriend, RTC. I'm having a great time so far.

Yesterday we went to Beckton District Park with the dog. We found a secluded spot in the tall grass We laid down a blanket and just held each other. Eventually the clothes came off and he was licking my pussy intensely. I came and came. I lost track after six orgasms.

When he finished he had an unforgettable smile on his face. "You taste delicious," he said.

"I've never cum that much in one day!" I exclaimed.

"Okay," he conceded, "You can put that in the blog."

This morning he ate me out while fingering my pussy. I didn't cum as much as I did yesterday, but still it felt awesome. Ten minutes later I got up out of the waterbed. I walked to the kitchen.

Then I felt something inside me let loose. I looked down and blood, lots of blood was streaming from my pussy.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" I yelled feeling shocked. Usually, when I'm naked and I yell, "Oh my god!" it means a very different thing. This time I was surprised.

"What's going on?" RTC yelled from the bedroom.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it." I said. I heard him getting up from the bed. "Don't come in here. Just stay there!" I panicked.

He walked into the kitchen and saw me standing there, naked with a blood-soaked pussy. Trails of blood were running down my legs and there I was standing in a small pool of my own blood.

He smiled and said, "It's okay." He walked over and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

"Usually I have more warning before I get my period,"

The Trifecta

The Trifecta

I’m a huge fan of the Aussie TV show, “The Secret Life of Us.” My favorite character is Kelly, played by Deborah Mailman. Kelly was brown, bubbly and full of life, just like me.

Throughout the duration of the show, Kelly is in search of the trifecta. “Life is like a trifecta - there is your homelife, lovelife and worklife and if all is in order your life is set”

I’ve only managed to have the trifecta once in my life. Even at that it was fleeting; ephemeral. It lasted a month at the most. When I had it life was very, very good. There’s nothing like loving your job, loving your flat and loving your man (or woman). There's a certain secuurity (smugness?) about having all your ducks lined up in a row.

Then slowly it all came apart. The flat was burgled, twice and I desperate wanted to move. The BFE and I broke up. My contract at work was ended. I spent the summer of 2006 in disarray.

Since then I’ve been quite fortunate. I’ve been able to get 2 out of the 3 aspects in the trifecta, but all three at once have alluded me. As soon as I get one part in line, something else seems to fall apart.

Today is R-day. Redundancy day. There are less than two hours before I meet with my boss. I’m 90% sure he’s going to make me redundant I’ve had a week to think about things. I fear somewhat fearful that finding a new position in this economy will be difficult. I feel sad that I didn’t take another position I was offered for more money at TV company. I feel scared that I won’t find a job before my money runs out and that I’ll ultimately have to move back to the States. “Naïve New York Girl” Just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Why Am I Still Single?

"Why are you still on the market?" my new interest, RTC asked during a 6-hour marathon telephone conversation. He continued, "The only reason I'm not married is because I ended my last engagement. Otherwise I wouldn't be single. But you... I just don't understand how someone as wonderful as you isn't married yet?"

'Welcome to my world,' I thought. I paused before answering "I don't know."

I hate those sort of questions. I hate them because there's no one answer that seems to make sense. Or at least there's no answer that seems to make sense to other people. I hate them because I don't want to admit 'the truth' to someone that I just recently met and really, really like.

The truth is, I'm single because I'm a bit quirky. (Quirkyalone, maybe?) I'm single because I'm classist. I'm single because I've never dated anyone whose complexion was darker than mine. I'm single because I can be intimidating. I'm single because I make bad choices with men. I'm single because who wants to marry the girl with the sexblog?

When I googled, "Why am I still single?" I found a link to a quiz on the Ladies Home Journal site. Intrigued, I clicked through to the Why Are You Still Single Quiz.

According to the Ladies Home Journal, I'm single because I'm " Wounded and Withdrawn"

Ideally, you'd like a relationship with a sexy and considerate man. Unfortunately, you're not willing to take the risk. Perhaps you've been hurt in the past and have a basic mistrust of men. Perhaps you've been on your own for so long that the idea of having to open yourself up to another person is terrifying.

Hmmm, I'll have to think about that one. I think I could raise an argument for and against that statement.

Another take on why am I still single, quite possibly is that I fall in line with the statistics. According to Oprah (see video below) 70% of African-American women are single.



Who knows what the answer really is? If anything it's a combination of all the aforementioned. I know that I really like RTC. I have that sort of hopeful optimism you get in the beginning of a relationship. *Swoon* Is it too early to say that I think I've found, "The One." (If you believe in that concept.) Will I have egg on my face if I proclaim, 'the search is over?' 

In season 6 of Sex and the City Carrie penned in her column, "When will waiting for the one be done?" I'm hoping the answer will be 'now.'

Saturday Update

This is the only morning in the past 3 weeks that I've woken up and not felt compelled to masturbate. Sometimes it feels good not being horny. Maybe I am back to my old self? It's been about a week since I've had any cock, but I'm not gagging for it.

I got a paid writing gig at YouPorn Every week I'll be writing a column and some articles for them that won't be appearing on this blog. So be sure to go there and book mark it you like hearing more from me!

When one window opens, another closes. I think I'm getting laid off from my job. I'm not sure, but I'll find out on Wednesday. So I'm using my blog to network. Anyone here work in media and want a sassy, smart and sexy girl on your team? E-mail me: me@naivelondongirl.com

And... I started seeing a new guy, sort of. I'll refer to him as RTC. Don't get used to seeing his name as most likely I won't be blogging about him. It's still early days, but I dunno. It feels different, special. Sounds cheesy but I think he's my kindred spirit. Makes me wonder why I wasted so many tears on the BFE and Mr. Charming?