Friday, October 03, 2008

Advice device for Adulterers and Dating the Doppelgänger

Wanda and Anjelika play Agony Aunt as they answer your questions sent in via e-mail.





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or visit us on Mevio

Additional Topics include:

- Mevio, Podshow, the Mevio contract
- Gordon Brown
- Freecycle
- Why Anjelika is mad
- Not getting laid
- Mail from Listeners
- Shaving
- Digital Music Awards
- Adam Curry
- AQA
- Any Questions Answered
- Gaydar

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Friday, September 26, 2008

Fuck Buddies and Sex Clubs

Anjelika: "I'm going to a sex club!"

Wanda: "I don't really want to see you sucking someone off or getting cock up your ass."






Subscribe to our podcast on iTunes

or visit us on Mevio

Wanda and Anjelika chat about:
• Fuck Buddies
• Old Fashion Romance
• Affairs with Married men
• Why Guys Cheat
• Gifts and Golddigging
• WAGs
• Dog-walking
• Biking
• Velodrome
• Audience Perception
• Sex Club
• Having sex in front of your friends
• Sex during your period
• Bodily Fluids

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Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Oversexed and Still Cheating

Oversexed and Still Cheating

Regarding my previous blog entry, Are You Lustful Tonight? an anonymous reader has asked a very good question

Whats the reason when a guy is still getting sex every day (very good sex for that matter) - yet he still seeks to cheat?


1. Variety is the spice of life. Chocolate-chip cookie dough is my favorite ice cream, but if I had it EVERY DAY I'd grow a bit tired of it. Sure, it would still taste good, but I'd want to try out some other flavours. Some men feel this same way.

2. The sex isn't really that "good." Maybe the wife is happily having sex with her husband on a daily basis, but really it's not that good. Perhaps the wife thinks she's fulfilled her part as the dutiful wife with the daily blow job. This sounds like quantity is more important that quality. If the husband is cheating in this case, he's looking for a quality experience.

3. He has an overinflated ego and/or arrested emotional development and feels that he deserves the BBD. The BBD is the "Bigger Better Deal." His wife may be gorgeous, but he feels he can find something better. Whether or not he can actually do better is debatable; it's more about having the perception that what he has isn't good enough. Hell, even Christy Brinkley's husband cheated on her.

4. Temptation, lack of forethought, and know that he won't get caught. If a Brinks Armoured Truck accidently dropped 10K out of the back would you take the money or would you resist? If you knew the likelihood that you would get caught was minimal would you take the money? If you knew that the money would make you feel better instantly and you wouldn't get caught, would you take the money?

Yeah, I probably would. You probably would too. Sometimes there are very good men who slip up and cheat. I'm not excusing this, but it is a reality. Sometimes good people do morally dubious things. Men who slip up aren't horrible people; they just don't have the forethought to see how easily this situation could go wrong.

5. He's a sex addict. Some men are like that. These guys should probably never get married.

But, that’s just my opinion.

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Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Are You Lustful Tonight?

Are You Lustful Tonight?

The past couple of weeks I’ve been thinking about infidelity; why men cheat it and what causes it.

Men cheat because of a combination of sexual boredom, lack of attention from their wives, needing their egos stroked, poor communication and an unwillingness to confront issues head-on.

Unless the guy’s a complete sociopath, which in the London dating scene is definite possibility, cheating never happens for just one reason alone.

For instance, a typical cheater is the guy who hasn’t had sex with his wife in a year, but because of poor communication and an inability to confront his wife with the issue, he sleeps with someone else. Although his infidelity provides temporary sexual relief, the underlying issue of why he and his wife aren’t having sex still remains. Until that issue is confronted, it will almost certainly be preferable for the man to continue cheating.

Another example of a cheater is the guy who has sex with his wife a couple times a month. Even though the sex is regular, he needs to feel sexy and wanted by the opposite sex. Maybe his wife is too busy with work and kids to take care of his emotional needs. Or maybe the wife is turned off by his neediness. Whatever the case, this is a guy that needs his ego stroked. He’ll probably spend a lot of time flirting with other women before he actually goes through with the infidelity.

In my previous post, Contemplating Adultery, I wondered why a woman would stop having sex with her husband. After much thought I realized that the answer is so easy! It’s also sexual boredom.

Women get bored with just sex. I get bored with just sex. Am I feeling lustful tonight? That depends. I need the wooing; the romance; the gifts; the expensive meals. I need to feel like I’m being chased. I need to feel appreciated and not like I’m being taken for granted; or that I owe the guy sex – or worse that I just want to get it “over with.” I need to feel special and wanted in order for me to give my best in bed.

During the course of a marriage men stop trying to impress their wives. To a certain extent this is natural and makes sense. If a man is already married in theory he doesn’t have to work to hard to woo woman in order to win her over. She, by definition, is already his. Still that goes against the basic human need of wanting to feel desired.

When a man stops trying to impress a woman, a woman stops feeling desired. When a woman stops feeling desired, she stops feeling sexy. When she stops feeling sexy, she stops having sex. When she stops having sex, the husband gets restless. When the husband get restless, he (wrongfully) looks into cheating.

It seems like such a vicious cycle and makes me wonder if marriage is even worth it?

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Sunday, August 10, 2008

Contemplating Adultery

Contemplating Adultery

As a women who has slept with many a married man I am fascinated by the question, “Why do men cheat?” I’m even more perplexed that I haven’t been able to find a satisfactory answer.

As far as my own fidelity goes, I’ve never cheated on anyone. And, as far as I know, no one has ever cheated on me. Let’s hope that karma’s not a bitch!

Out of the 6 or so married men I’ve been intimate with there seems to be a common theme when I ask them why they’re cheating. The unanimous answer is, “My wife doesn’t understand me [like you do]” and “I haven’t had sex with her in [X number of] months.”

Men are quick to put the blame of their lack of attention and lingering horniness on the wife. Or course, this is convenient to do that as I’m never in the position to question the wife. But perhaps that’s where I should be looking? I know that it takes two to tango, but what happens in a relationship when a man decides to cheat? Is it always the case that wife has stopped having sex with him?

Sex is great. Orgasming is great. Sex makes you feel fulfill, sexy and adventurous. If you stop having sex with your husband, you’re denying yourself the pleasure as well. Why would a woman stop having sex with her husband? A couple theories have been suggested to me:

1. That when women are single, they pretend to have high sex drives in order to reel in the guy and get married. Once they’re married and things settle down, the woman goes back to her real sex drive which presumably is lower. The husband feels cheated. Sort of like the same feeling you get when you see a movie preview that you think looks great; then when you see you movie, you realize they put all the best bits in the trailer. The husband grows resentful of this and ultimately cheats

2. Once women have children, they make their children their number one focus and the husband has to take the back seat.
The husband grows resentful of this and ultimately cheats.

So as single women, if we know up front (i.e. before the wedding) that our potential husbands need sex regularly to stay happy how is this forgotten once we’re married? Is there something that happens to women once they’re married that makes them want to have sex with their husbands less?

One married guy that I slept with said that it had been 8 months since he last had sex with his wife. The obvious question I had for him was, “Well, have you discussed that with her? Have you said, hey honey it’s been ages since we’ve made love. Can we be more regular about it?”

Two things emerged after I put that to him: 1. He’s uncomfortable about talking to his wife about sex. He’s afraid to have the awkward conversation with her. Huh? How can you have a fulfilling sex life if you’re afraid to talk about sex with your spouse? Also, with all the lying and betrayal that’s involved with cheating are you telling me it’s harder to have an “awkward conversation” with your wife? I think men see cheating as an easy alternative. But really, it shouldn’t be an alternative. If a man is not having sex with his wife he needs to have a conversation with her.

And if he does have a conversation with her but it turns out that she’s no longer interested in him sexually, what should he do? What if everything in the relationship is great, except the sex, what should a guy do? I would advise that the guy needs to come to an understanding with his wife that he has to have sex on a regular basis. I would see if the wife were open to the idea of you taking on a lover.

Afterall, it’s rather unfair of her to say, “No, I’m not going to have sex with you, but I don’t want anyone else to have sex with you either.” That’s a bit selfish.

The second thing to emerge from my chat with the married man was that he wanted his wife to find him sexually attractive. He didn’t want to have to “talk my wife into wanting to have sex with me. I want her to want me. “

He didn’t want to have to coax his wife into having sex with him. I suppose, as a man that can be quite demoralizing.

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Saturday, August 09, 2008

The Cheat Factor. How likely is your husband to cheat on you?

The Cheat Factor. How likely is your husband to cheat on you?

Men are quick to put the blame of their lack of attention and lingering horniness on the wife. Or course, this is convenient to do that as I’m never in the position to question the wife. But if I was, I would give her this quiz.

1. When was the last time you had sex with your husband?
  1. Yesterday [5 points]
  2. Within the past week [4 points]
  3. Within the past month [3 points]
  4. More than 3 months ago [2 points]
  5. More than 6 months ago [1 point]
2. How many times per week do you have sex with your husband?
  1. Everyday [5 points]
  2. 4-5 times per week [4 points]
  3. 2-3 times per week [3 points]
  4. 1 time per week [2 points]
  5. I sometimes go weeks without having sex with my husband. [1 point]

3. Do you feel sexually satisfied when having sex with your husband?
  1. Yes [5 points]
  2. No [1 point]
4. Are you hour husband’s best friend?
  1. Yes [5 points]
  2. No [1 point]
5. Do you feel emotionally connected to your husband?
  1. Yes [5 points]
  2. No [1 point]
6. Do you know all your husband's female friends?
  1. Yes [5 points]
  2. No [1 point]
7. Are you still sexually attracted to your husband?
  1. Yes [5 points]
  2. No [1 point]
8. Are there any life-changing experiences that may have caused a shift in your relationship with your husband, i.e. pregnancy, birth, death?
  1. Yes [5 points]
  2. No [1 point]
9. If you knew that your husband required a certain amount of sex to feel adequate (e.g. not restless & not willing to cheat) would you be willing to have sex with him that much?
  1. Yes [5 points]
  2. No [1 point]
10. Are you open to indulging your husband sexual fantasies.
  1. Yes [5 points]
  2. No [1 point]
Now tally up your score.

41-50 Points. Fantastic. You have a great sex life and most-likely an excellent relationship with your husband. Chances are he won’t chat on you. Where would he get the time? You’re too busy having sex with him.

21-40 Points Proceed with Caution. You’re in the middle zone here. You’re sex life with your husband is irregular which gives him plenty of opportunity to stray. The good new is at least you’re still having sex, you just need to have more of it.

10-20 Points. Danger. Are you sure he’s not already cheating on you? Sounds like you’ve both grown apart emotionally and sexually. Why bother staying married? Is it for the kids? You need to get your sex life with your husband back on track or you may find him straying.

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Thursday, August 07, 2008

Phil Petrol and His Massive Cock

“Oh my God, you’re naked!” I exclaim.

“Shhhhhhh!” Phil Petrol urges me to be quiet. I enter the board room and close the door behind me.
He gives me a big bear hug. He kisses me gently and sweetly. It doesn’t seem like the kiss of a desperate married man wanting to get laid; but rather the kiss of a smitten teenager.

Then he turns out the lights. It’s completely dark in this windowless boardroom.

“Nice thick cock!” I say to him.

He reaches for my shirt and raises it just above my left breasts. He moves my boob out of my bra and kisses it. He sucks on my nipple. He switches to my right boob, sucking on it ever so gently.

I return the favour to him. I gently bite his man-nipples. He winces. I can’t tell if it’s in pleasure or pain, but since he doesn’t say, “Stop,” I continue.

I take off my shirt, bra, trousers and panties. I press my naked body against his. It occurs to me that if the night janitor walked in, I would be in a fairly compromising position. I put that thought out of my head and tell Peter Petrol that I want to lay down.

I hadn’t realized how uncomfortable the carpet in the board room was until it was time to lay down on it. Phil lays next to me.
“Now I want you to lick my pussy,” I said to him, as if I were schooling a naughty kindergartener.

He positions his head between my leg and starts licking the area around my vulva. He’s obedient. I like that. He’s not exactly hitting my clit.

“Down, more, “I direct him. “Now to the left. Yes, right there.” He keeps licking me. “Now put a finger in me.” He sticks a finger in my pussy

I compare Phil Petrol’s pussy-eating style to the Shark’s. The Shark uses his whole mouth when he eats me out whereas Phil Petrol just uses his tongue which leads me believe that either he doesn’t know what he’s doing or he’s really not into it. And there’s absolutely no point in getting eaten-out by a guy who’s really not into it.

Then suddenly he gets a rhythm going. I feel hornier and hornier. I can tell when a guy is doing a good job eating me out, because I crave his cock inside me.

I push his head away from me.

“I want you to put the tip of your cock in me. Don’t go in all the way. Just the tip.”

“I can’t do that or I’m gonna cum,” he says.

“You won’t cum. Just the tip.”

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yes,” I lie Oh my god, why did I just lie? “You won’t cum, just the tip,” I urge.

He obediently purses the tip of his cock on my pussy. He pulls away after a few seconds. He sits back. He takes a few breaths.

I place my hand on his cock. I move my hand up and down. He moans and sighs in pleasure.

“Don’t cum,” I say to him, “Now I want you to eat me out again.”

He moves his head between my legs and furiously licks my pussy. It feels amazing. His slow rhythms build up faster and faster. I’m screaming at him, “I want your cock. Fuck me now. I want you to stick it in me.” But he keeps licking. I cum loudly. He covers my mouth. He keeps licking even after I’ve cum, but I push him away.

“That was very nice,” I tell him

“Now, I want to give you a blowjob that you won’t forget. Don’t cum in my mouth.”

“OK,” he says.

“I mean it.”

I put my mouth on his cock. I flick my tongue against the tip of his cock then I take as much of his cock into my mouth as I can. I bob my head up and down. I use my full lips to provide the ultimate suction. He moans, which indicates to me that he’s enjoying it.

I stick a finger up his asshole. He moans even louder. I keep sucking,

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God!” he yells.

Then I pull away.

“Wait, where are you going?” He questions.

“That’s just a taste of what’s in store.”

“Baby, you gotta stay. At least watch me cum.”

“Next time,” I say casually.

I quickly put on my clothes. I turn on the light. He’s standing there with a enormous hard on.

“See you tomorrow at work,” I smile and wave goodbye.

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Wednesday, August 06, 2008

And So I Waited…

And So I Waited…

Phil Petrol, the VP of Ad sales was supposed to call me 8:30 PM yesterday. Although I had the chance to save my dignity and abscond, I actually ended up staying in my office, perusing though PerezHilton.com for gossip. Every fibre of my being said “Go home, don’t wait for this idiot,” But part of me was curious, why had he suddenly asked me out?

At 9:00 PM I got tired of waiting. So I left my office in search of something to eat. I told myself, “If he doesn’t call by the time I eat, then I’ll just get on the tube and go home.”

I headed off to McDonalds and bought a happy meal for £1.99. Whenever I buy a happy meal I pretend that it’s for my non-existent kid which seems less embarrassing than admitting you’re a cheapskate. The cashier didn’t take the bait, hence I didn’t receive a fun, yet useless happy meal toy.

After I ate, still there was no call, no text, nothing from him. So I thought to myself, “If he doesn’t call by the time I get to Chancery Lane, I’ll get on the tube and go home.”

I got to Chancery Lane. Not a word from him. I got on the Central Line and headed to Bank. I changed trains to the DLR. It seemed to take ages for a train towards Canary Wharf to arrive. I passed the time by playing Breakout on my Blackberry.

As soon as the train surfaced above ground I received a text message from him. He says he’s on his way and that he’ll meet me in Covent Garden in 30 minutes. Damn, not enough time to go home. Too much time to go directly there, but whatever. For once in my life I was ridiculously early.

I arrived at Covent Garden and watched a street performer play an acoustic version of Blondie’s “Call me.” Out of sheer boredom I played a few more games a Breakout, beating my all-time high score. I called, the Voice-of-Reason in New York. I called a friend in Spain. I called another friend in LA.

While I was on the phone I got a text from Phil Petrol saying that he’ll be 10 more minutes and he’s on his way. It was past 10PM now.

What the fuck am I doing? It’s 10:30 on a school night and I’m waiting here in Covent Garden like an idiot. What did I really think was going to happen.

15 minutes later he arrives. He looks good. He’s wearing a light blue Armani shirt and dark trousers. He has a posh yet difficult to place accent. Apparently he’s a child of the world, having grown up in 4 different counties. At times he sounds English, then mildly Australian, bizarrely Canadian cross ed with posh American boarding school type accent; think Julianne Moore in The Big Lebowski.

He apologize for being late explains that he was at a business dinner with some folks from Nintendo; that he’s negotiating to get a free Wii and a Wii fit, for his own personal benefit. My God! I’m playing second fiddle to a piece of exercise equipment!

We go to one of the many pubs in area all the while I’m trying to figure out his agenda. I want to know:
  1. What does he want?
  2. Is it appropriate for me to be hanging out with a married man past 8PM in the evening?
  3. Does his wife know where he is?
He buys me a white wine and orders the same for himself. We talk about work stuff. It’s nothing out of the ordinary except that it’s nearly 11PM. Surely, he could have talked about work stuff at work, no?

The pub calls last orders. We finish our wine then search for another pub. We end up at the Walkabout – ugh! For those of you not from London, the Walkabout is a cheesy Australian-themed pub. Young crowd. Party atmosphere. Loud music Faux Australian culture. Basically everything I detest in a pub. But we had little choice. As the Voice-of-Reason would say, “Any port in a storm.”

We order a bottle of white wine and take a seat in the back. Phil Petrol keeps mentioning the low-cut top I wore during the Christmas party. I try to visualize what I was wearing, but I can’t quite remember.

“I’m sure I remember you telling me at the Christmas party that you were gay,” he says to me.

“No, I’m not. I must have been joking if I said that.”

“It just weird’s me out, man. Cuz, well, you know…”

“No, I don’t know,” I say challenging him.

“Cuz, well, I, um, well, I was looking at your breasts that night. And I had these thoughts.”

“Like thoughts that I was gay?”

“It’s this top you were wearing. So low cut. And I kept looking at your breasts.”

“Well, yes. They’re there to be stared at,” I say jovially.

“But, well, after that night. I put you in another category.”

“The gay category?”

“Just that category where nothing would ever happen between us.”

I sense a slippery slope here, but I pursue with the questioning. “Shouldn’t I have always been in that category?

He seems nervous; tongue tied, and a bit frustrating at me for not being able to understand him. He takes a deep breath.

“I fancy you,” he states, “There. I’ve said it. And when you wore that low cut top I thought about what it would be like to suck your nipples.”

I barely raise an eyebrow. I’ve been down this path before with the BFE, CS, the DG, and the Shark. Suddenly, I’m not feeling so naïve.

“Cool,” I say in a confident and bitchy way that could only suggest I have his balls in my hands and I’m calling the shots.

“And I think about how great it would be to lie naked with you,”

I don’t ask the obvious questions:
  • How long have you felt this way?
  • What about your wife?
  • What about your kids?
Instead, I ask him more pertinent questions:
  • How often do you masturbate?
  • What are your top three things to do in bed?
  • Do you have an erection right now? [and I feel for proof]
He seems thrown by the conversation. He pauses for long periods of time before he speaks. As if he had been anticipating a conversation with me, but not quite this conversation.
I tease him a bit. I lean in and go for a kiss. I put my hand on his crotch. I can feel raging hard on beneath his trousers. His kisses are nice, gentle. He has plump lips; almost as big as mine, but not quite.

We spend twenty minutes kissing. We finish the bottle of wine. By then he’s begging me to set a day where he can leave work early and come over to my place.

“Why? “ I ask him. “I mean, what’s in it for me?”

But this point I was quite drunk. I don’t remember what he said, but I do remember his answer was so pathetically laughable; merely a flimsy excuse to fuck.

I’m evasive. I tell him, ‘sometime in the future, maybe.” Still, he presses me for a time, a day. I don’t give in.

We exit the walk about and walk towards Piccadilly Circus so we can both catch our respective night busses. We’re walking and then suddenly he turns and pins me against the wall. I can feel his cock pulsating against my leg. He kisses me and then kisses me some more. “I want you Anjelika.”

I feel my pussy getting wetter. I was now officially horny.

We continue walking. I realize that I need to use the loo.

“I’m walking back to the office to use the bathroom,” I tell him.

“Oh, I have to use the bathroom too.”

“Quelle coincidence!” I say ironically.

“No, really, I do,” he insists. Whatever!

It takes 20 minutes to walk back our office building. I go in first. The office is silent and empty. The lights are out in the women’s bathroom. I pee, then wash my hands and check my make up to see if it’s okay. What the hell? It’s midnight and I look fabulous—or at least as fabulous as I will look at this hour.

As I walk to my desk I past the board room. He’s standing in the doorway of the board room urging me to come in.

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes. I have to go to my desk,” I tell him.

I continue on to my desk. I had received an urgent e-mail on my Blackberry from one of our producers in California. I need to send some files to her before the end of business day in LA. I send the files that were needed. I answer a few more e-mails. I check my MySpace page. I play another game of Brickbreaker. Then, I get up and go to the board room.

I open the door and there is Phil Petrol standing before me completely naked.

And his cock is massive!

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Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Wait

Wait

It’s 7PM and I’m sitting in my office waiting for a guy to call me. Is that pathetic or what? I should be out there living, feeling doing- not waiting. Not waiting by the phone in hopes that my plans will pan out.

I should be grabbing the bull by the horns and taking charge of my dating / social life. Instead, here I am, like in idiot sitting in my office waiting for a guy- and a married guy at that. I haven’t mentioned this guy before, He’s a work colleague. Today he asked me out in such a casual way that it could hardly classify as an event – let alone a date. I call him Phil Petrol...

I can hear Wanda now saying, “Get out of there. Go home. Go Swimming. Go look after your little doggie, but do not wait for this guy to call. Have you not learned anything from the BFE debacle?”

And yes, I’ve learned SO MUCH from the BFE thing. In fact, I'm pleased to share one of the I’ve learned. Perhaps this is common sense, and perhaps I should have probably already have known it, but last weekend I really realized it.

On Saturday evening I had net sex with a married guy. The DG, for those of you keeping track. I like the DG. I like him as a mate. I respect him as a former colleague. I like his attitude about life. I also fancy the pants off him! And the fact that he bares a more-than vague resemblance to the BFE probably helps as well. I frequent think about him tying me up and eating me out. He’s definitely someone I want in my bed. And we’ve fooled around before, but nothing major.

During our netsex session he was telling me how there are some positions and activities that he wants to try with me. I realize now that this is all talk; all fantasy. He doesn’t want to leave the safety net of his wife. To him, I’m like that one flavour of ice-cream at Baskin Robbins that you say, “One day I’m gonna try that” but ultimately you don’t because you don’t want to betray your favourite standby flavour. (Vanilla, most likely).

The thing is, I like him. I like him a lot. And to him, I’m a savoury sweet—once he’s had his taste, he’s had his fill and he’s gone. If we ever did end up having sex it would mean so much more to me in my head than it would to him. To him, I would be the girl he fucked.

I think that was my key mistake with the BFE. I liked him too much. I wanted him, and he wanted sex. Perhaps if we had a meeting of the minds things would have gone smoother. Of course I fooled myself to think that I was only in it for the sex – but as women can we really do that? Is it possible to ‘just fuck’ and feel nonchalant about it?

Men have a way of cutting off that emotion; that emotion that says, “You are a great fuck and you’re someone I could care for at some point” But I find it incredibly difficult. This is something that I am just realizing now.

It’s 7:50 now and my gut tells me to grab my Oyster card and hightail it out of here; that there is no good to come of this situation. I should go home now, while my dignity is in tact. Or I could possibly suffer the indignity of being stood up.

On the other hand I’ve already applied my lipstick. If I don’t go out, I just won’t know what I’m missing.

What would you do?

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Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Date #9 The Fish Returns

Date #9 The Fish Returns

I don’t know if you could call it a date? It was uber casual. Or even an outing? We stayed in. But I had a second meeting (if that’s the mot juste) with the guy from work hereafter known as the Shark. See Fishing from the Company Pier

After grabbing some Indian Take-away we headed back to my flat. Even though I was starving I was happy to put my hunger on hold so I could feel his tongue on my clit again.

I sent the dog packing. I closed the door to the lounge, turned-off the TV, sat on the sofa and spread my legs.

The Shark unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down just below my knees. He pressed his nose against my pink-laced panties. I felt the warmth of his breath on my clit. He took a breath and then exhaled on panties. He slid my panties over to the side and began licking my pussy.

I had spend the weekend wondering why he’s come into my life. Ultimately, I believe that everyone we meet in a significant and/or emotional way is meant to teach us something. I kept wondering what his place was in all this? What will I learn from him? What is he going to teach me? What is the purpose of meeting him?

Maybe there is no higher purpose? Maybe it’s just fucking? Maybe as a woman I feel the need to arbitrarily justify wanting to have sex with someone I’m attracted to? Maybe I’m trying to put some cause or meaning to it because I’m tired of having sex that has no meaning? I don’t know. These are just things I’ve been pondering.

I came three times before we ate and once more afterwards. Whilst eating dinner we sat on the sofa and watched The Secret Millionaire. He cried at the end and it really touched me.

Even though the Shark and I have only been acquainted quite recently it seemed that our relationship has blossomed into part friend, part mentor, part lover and part father figure. It’s all very cosy. Very nice.

Still there’s something about him that scares me, but I really, really like it. And I’ve never been one to run from danger.

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Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Date #7 Fishing from the Company Peer

Date #7 Fishing from the Company Peer

Yeah I know it’s morally questionable to sleep with someone from work; especially when he’s already involved with someone else. But it was the come hither stare on his MySpace profile picture that got me interested.

There was a dichotomy in the hard and raw essence of his photo compared to the tenderness and sweetness of meeting him in person. I was intrigued.

The sex was fab. Clearly, It was the best oral I’ve had since 2006. I think he went down on me for the better part of an hour. Of course, I had multiple orgasms. I had one super-intense orgasm. It was so intense that I felt quite satiated. It was strong enough of an orgasm that I could go another few weeks without sex. The only thing I can compare it to is having a really nice meal where you feel totally full and you think, “I can’t eat for days.” That’s sort of how I feel. I can’t fuck for days…

He’s a great guy and fantastic in bed, but ultimately he belongs to someone else. And I’ll be damned If I go through another BFE thing again!

Another shag could be a lot of fun, though.

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Thursday, November 01, 2007

Sex and Sensibility


In this podcast Wanda and Anjelika Chat about:

- Wanda's Holiday
- The Elephant in the Room
- Fall out and Anjelika's (lack of) sensitivity
- Hate Mail

WANDA: Anjelika, do you like me enough to shag me?

[silence]

ANJELIKA: No offense, Wanda...

WANDA: I'm beautiful! I'm big and beautiful! What are you saying?


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Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Blow Jobs, Public Orgasms and Confronting your Lover's Wife

Blow Jobs, Public Orgasms and Confronting your Lover's Wife


ANJ: Have you ever fingered yourself on a train?
WANDA: No! I've never fingered myself in public!
ANJ: I have fingered myself on a train-
WANDA: Have you? Going from where to where?
ANJ: From London to Manchester. Virgin... hardly

Wanda and Anjelika chat about...

Have you ever fingered yourself on a train?
- 5 Things that annoy Anjelika
- Getting turned on, on the train
- Blow job techniques
- Moral Quagmire: Should you confront your lover's wife?

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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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Monday, July 02, 2007

Sex and Edith Piaf

Naive London Girl
with special Joseph (in the Bracknell)

- "Get out!"
- Men who don't llike blowjobs
- Open relationships
- Monogamy
- Oreos and Coconuts
- Edith Piaf
- Massages with "happy endings"

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Monday, May 28, 2007

Celebrity Encounters and Chicks with Dicks

In this week’s episode:
- Celeb encounters with Pete Burns, Chris Moyles and Iain Lee
- Guys who love chicks with dicks
- The Real Story behind Mucky Sarah and Wanda being banned from Iain Lee’s radio show.
- A preview of “Net Sex with Iain Lee”

Naive London Girl
The UK's #1 Sex Podcast
http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com

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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, March 11, 2007

These Boots are Made for Fucking

I’ve been a bad girl this weekend. It’s too nice of a day to spend inside typing so I’ll make this short and sweet.

On Saturday a friend came over my place to do some handyman work for me. There must something about seeing a guy do DIY that turns me on. Is it too lame to say I like a guy who knows how to use his tool? Yeah, ok, that is lame.

Now I wasn’t planning on doing anything with this guy, per se, but I couldn’t help myself. Why am I so naughty? And why does doing the wrong thing feel so good and so right?

After he finished the work we were both sitting on my leather sofa drinking some apple juice and petting the dog. Somehow within the span of a half hour we went from staring at each other, to holding each other to rubbing each other – above the clothes of course. According to the Rule Book, it doesn’t count if the touching is above the clothes.

I was wearing a black A-line skirt. I liked that his hand was under my skirt and that he was rubbing my fuchsia panties. I love that tingly feeling of an unfamiliar touch. And I love that look on his face; the look that tells me he’s happy and has a raging hard on. It’s difficult, however, when the moment is tinged with guilt; when you know you shouldn’t go any further; when what’s wrong feels right and vice versa.

It’s head versus heart; theory versus practice; the moral high ground versus horniness. And perhaps the fact that it’s forbidden makes it even more alluring.

He pushed me away. I figured, fair enough. Game over. Don’t push the issue. I had been bad for tempting him in the first place. I ended up falling to the floor ass first with my legs in the air. And no sooner that I thought I lost, in one swift motion he jumps down to the floor, grabs for my panties and violently yanks them off me. He throws them across the room and buries his head in my pussy. Oh my God. He’s a fucking madman and I love it.

He went after my pussy with so much vim and vigor that it puts some others to shame. He was so energetic and gung-ho about it as if he hadn’t tasted pussy in years. He used his tongue and fingers. He kept one finger in my cunt while licking my clit.

I came, and he kept licking. I came twice more before he stopped. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted it badly. He was just going to tease me with his cock. We went out on the balcony and he fingered me while we overlooked London. Back inside he pressed his cock against me, but wouldn’t enter. It’s a fantastic feeling yet simultaneously frustrating.

I played with his balls and sucked on his cock until my mobile rang. It was so naughty how he was touching me up while I was on the phone. It was Wanda on the line. She was early! She was outside by my car! I wanted to send her a secret message that said come back in an hour, but I just froze and told her to ring my buzzer.

The next 5 minutes were spent trying to get him off. I jerked him off for a while. Then I took his cock into my mouth. He came in my mouth. It was lot of cum. A lot more than I’m used to; then again can you ever really get used to someone ejaculating in your mouth?

We snogged and I swapped the cum from my mouth into his. And he obediently swallowed.

My phone rang again. It was Wanda. She said she was outside the flat. I thought she meant outside the building. I opened my front door.

“Anjelika, are you not wearing any pants?”

“No, I’m not.” It was true. I opened my front door while being naked from my bellybutton down, but I didn’t expect her to be there.

She was a bit flustered. I told her to wait outside.

My friend Mr. Fix it made a swift exit.

I met up with Wanda twenty minutes later. She had gone to a café across the road.

We hung out for a few hours, took the dog to the vet and did a podcast.

After she left, I got ready for my hot date with Mr.TVP (Mr. Television Presenter)

I met Mr. TVP outside the building where he broadcasts. We went out for dinner at a restaurant within walking distance. Dinner was nice. I felt bad because I couldn’t finished the lovely steak l ordered.

Mr.TVP is also a great guy to talk to. But I wasn’t sure if he was really listening to me or zoning out into his chat show presenter mode. The restaurant had lousy service despite the food being good.

After dinner we went back to his dressing room. I was wearing the same A-Line black skirt along with a tight black T-shirt that showed off my breasts. To top if off I was wearing black high heel boots.

As soon as we got into the dressing room, Mr. TVP bent me over, lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties and began fingering me.

There’s something I love about being bent over. Maybe it’s the feeling of submission. I dunno. Eventually I took off my skirt, shirt and black bra. I was naked except for the boots.

I was naked and bend over the side of the sofa. He fingered me for a while and stuck his cock inside. Mmmmmmmm.

His cock wasn’t in there long. I was getting a bit uncomfortable being bent over, so we moved to floor. He fingered me until I came and then we fucked doggie style while I was still wearing the boots.

Afterwards I joined him for a bit in the office, but I was feeling tired. I watched him read some fan mail. Then he got on to the internet to check some message boards. He was looking to see if there were any messages about him. Of course there were. Tons. Why he would want to read them, I don’t know? To a certain extent, who cares what the public thinks. Maybe he’s vain? I guess all people on TV are vain. There are so many creepy people on the internet. Well, I guess I should know.

He walked me to my car and kissed me good night.

Saturday is all about being a bad girl.

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A Saturday Without Panties Part 2

Where we last left off, Anjelika was describing the colour of her panties.

Part 2: A Saturday without panties

http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com

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Saturday, March 10, 2007

A Saturday without Panties Part 1

Wanda knocks on Anjelika's door only to find her sans Panties. .

Part 1: A Saturday without panties

http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com

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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