Less is More

In many respects, I think the less aid about my break up the better. The specific details aren't important.

Relationships can be hard and what makes them work (or not work) isn't immediately obvious to outsiders.

Because this is my blog, everything you read is from my point of view; How I felt, what I saw. what I did. It allows me to be critical of other people's behaviour while often self-censoring my own. There's another side to this story, from my ex's POV which you'll probably never know.

There are so many lovely things he's done for me that I've never written about. If there's anything to remember about this chapter in my life is that he isn't the monster you all think he is. You can only go by what I write. It was my mistake to portray him as some evil abuser.

I'm not discounting what happened to me. We did have some bad times. He does have a temper. But equally, I'm very good at playing the victim.

Mascara

Some Doves song came up on the office Spotify account. I burst out into tears. I spent the rest of my lunch break crying in the bathroom. I'm finding it hard keeping it all together. Today was a bad day to wear mascara.

Happy Now?!?

Are you all happy now?!? Now maybe I can get some peace. Don't say it's for the best. I feel angry and I'm not in the mood for sympathy.

Sleepy Saturday

Yesterday was one of those boring days. We each walked the dog separately then spent the day together listening to the radio.

I spent a lot of time on the computer doing some prep work for my new job. The boyfriend groomed the dog and read yesterday's evening standard while I worked.

Today we're going to the France Show at Earl's Court. Say hi if you see me.

My Ex-Boyfriend's New Girlfriend

Wow, I'm amazed. Finally, 5 years after we broke up The Ex has a new girlfriend. I had given up on him actually meeting anyone else. They met playing Scrabble on Facebook. What started off ans an internet romance turned into an actual one.

Also, when you yourself are in a relationship there's a certain smugness that comes upon you when dealing with your singleton friends. It's the sort of, "Don't worry, you'll meet someone soon" type thing. I know, it's patronizing, smug and wrong, but yes I've been guilty of feeling that.

So I saw a photo of my Ex boyfriend with his new girlfriend and I felt happiness for him. There was no jealousy or bitterness. No snide remarks. I just felt joy. I feel happy that he's happy. And it's not often I feel that way.

As for my own relationship, things have been a bit tense at home, so we'll see what happens.

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!

The Games We Play

I don't know if I should be blogging about this? I had a terrifying experience yesterday that has left me shaken. I talked to my best friend about it. I'm ambivalent if I should be blogging about it.

Generally, I've been quite open when blogging about my sex life. I always change names. And sometimes I even change places. For instance my blog entry, "Heavy Petting on the Northern Line" actually happened on the District Line... (Oh yes, the cat's out of the bag now!)

Since it's been three years since that event it doesn't matter which tube line it happened on. If I mentioned that it happened on the District Line at the time I wrote the blog entry, I could have possibly identified the man involved.

Aside from small changes like that, what I write here is an accurate portrayal of my adventures.

It becomes more difficult to write about my adventures / mis-adventures while I'm in my current relationship. My boyfriend doesn't want to be mentioned in the blog- except with his explicit permission. I have to respect his privacy on that.

I find myself in a bit of a quandary. My need to stay faithful and accurate to this blog vs. My boyfriend's need for privacy.

Even if I write about my sex life without specifically mentioning my boyfriend, it's implied that he's involved-- unless I'm masturbating or cheating.

Ultimately, this may mean that as my relationship progresses, the my blog declines. I had always pictured, however, that once I'm married the blog would be pointless. Who wants to read about a married and not sot naive London woman?

Within the context of my relationship I enjoy a bit of role play in the bedroom. It's fun, harmless and can lead to some horny times. What I'm not so keen on is role-play outside of the bedroom. I don't think there's anything wrong with it, but for me, personally, it doesn't work. I can't figure out when the game "begins" or where the start point is.

So that leads me to my latest situation. I've spent the past couple hours crying because hours before I didn't realize that I was in the middle of a BDSM role-playing exercise. Because I didn't realize I was in the middle of role-play, I didn't think to use the safeword.

I had assumed that I was being chided and punished for a mistake I made earlier in the day. When I learned what my punishment was going to be, I totally freaked out. I went into hysterics. I was crying and terrified. I was naked as well because I was just about to take a shower before the role-play (unbeknownst to me) started.

I was screaming, crying and begging my merciless Dom to stop. To me, it wasn't a game. It wasn't Dom and Sub, but rather Anjelika and boyfriend.

Eventually, I became so panic-stricken and distraught that he stopped and said the safeword.

Safeword? I was so confused. I didn't realize it was a game. I was scared. Really, really scared. Even though physically I was fine, I still felt really upset. I felt really fucked up emotionally. I couldn't just shake off the experience as a bit of fun and role play.

I am emotionally drained and I still feel upset. I feel like I want to get out of town for a few days and think things over.

No, No, Nokia and Month Anniversaries

Is it worth celebrating month anniversaries?

About seven and a half months ago I met my boyfriend online. We chatted phone and on instant messenger. We exchanged pictures. Even though he was in London as well our first meeting took six weeks. It was way slower than I was used to moving. In that time I grew to care for him. Sounds weird, doesn't it? Caring about someone you've never met.

We finally went on our first date. It was disaterous from the start. We started off our first date in the Emergency Room. That was 6 months ago yesterday.

What are the rules about celebrating monthly anniversaries? I'm someone who hasn't had a lot of long term relationships. So celebrating the 6 month mark seems important to me. (It's probably more important to me than to him) But what about all the months in-between? What about all the months until we make it to one year? Do you celebrate month anniversaries?

At the 3-month mark, I gave my boyfriend a book a love coupons that I made myself. Mine weren't as cheesy as the ones pictured here. In my book of coupons I offered:

• a blow job
• a day with out the dog
• a day-trip within England
• 1-hour of cuddling
• a day of pampering
• breakfast in bed
• 50 spanks

And in return for our three month anniversary he gave me... nothing.

To celebrate 6 months I gave him a new mobile phone - a nice Nokia. I figured since his old phone was really old I would give him an upgrade. I know it's not really a "romantic" gift, but in some ways I felt stuck on what to give him.

So I gave him the mobile and his reaction.... "uh, thanks." He didn't like it. He says he's not into the mobile phone thing. So he handed the gift back to me and said that maybe I could use it. I don't like Nokias. I bought that phone specifically for him and it is a major upgrade. And his gift in return to me... nothing. "You're not supposed to give gifts until the first anniversary," he said.

Wait, is that true? Or is that some bullshit someone who didn't buy a gift would say? And if that's true, how come I never clocked that? Do you wait until the one year mark to buy gifts for each other?

Another question? Should he have graciously accepted my gift even if he didn't want it? Should he have told a little white lie and said he appreciated it? Or was it better for him just to tell me the truth about not like it?

I feel pretty upset by it all.  I'm trying not to.  I think I'm hormonal or something because I've been feeling depressed about stuff all day. To make matters worse, I used the last of the money in my bank account to get him an anniversary gift he doesn't even want.  So now I'm broke, jobless, Phones4U won't take the phone back and as far as anniversaries go, ours was pretty shitty.

Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.  I've just had one of those days where every little thing feels like a major setback and I just feel like crying.

Cunnilingus Interruptus

One of my biggest mistakes that I tend to do in bed is that I just cannot shut up. I think this is probably one of my biggest problems outside the bedroom too.

I'm not exactly sure what my boyfriend wants me to say in bed, but I do know he doesn't want me to say the following:

"Do I taste good?"
"Are you okay?"
"Are you going to cum?"

Maybe he just doesn't want to answer questions while he's fucking me / licking me out?

The other he was in the middle of eating me out. As always, it felt great. Usually when the boyfriend licks me out he tells me how I taste. "Musky" "Fertile" "Sweet" "Acidic." On that particular night, he didn't mention how I tasted. I was starting to wonder if I tasted bad? I innocently asked, "Do I taste Fertile?"

He immediately stopped licking me. "That's it. You killed the mood," he said. Stopping in mid-lick. I was so hot and horny I considered fingering myself just so I could cum. I was also concerned that I hurt my boyfriends feelings.

I didn't understand what I said wrong?

We later talked about it. It turns out it wasn't what I said, it was how I said it. He said I sounded bored. I definitely wasn't bored. (The day that I get bored when I get eaten out is the day that I die!) I guess when you're in a new relationship there are always things you're learning about your partner.

Wasted Erection

5:43 AM. As usual I woke up two minutes before my boyfriends alarm was due to sound off. I am not a morning person. If it were up to me I’d stay up until 2AM and sleep until 11. That, however, isn’t compatible with my boyfriend’s work schedule.

His alarm sounded off. He woke of for a moment. He hit snooze and drifted back to sleep. I wrapped my arm around him. Yes, I was hugging him, but I had an ulterior motive. I wanted sex.

My hand rested on his chest. Every few minutes I would inch it down further and further until a good fifteen minutes later when I reached his cock. It was rock hard despite my boyfriend drifting in and out of sleep..

I started rubbing my hand up and down his cock. It grew larger. I kept pumping my fist. My boyfriend woke up. He seemed stunned. Even though it was dark in our bedroom I could tell he was smiling.

The smile was short-lived however, his alarm sounded again.

“Fuck, I’m going to be late for work,” he groaned

And with that he jumped out of bed and headed towards the shower.

What a waste of an erection.

It Started off as a Hand Job…

6:00 AM. In bed with the boyfriend. We’d been spooning all night. His alarm sounded. He switched it off then rolled over towards me.

We kissed.

I wrapped my arms around him. Slowly I moved my left hand down his chest. I brushed past his pubic hair and took hold of his cock.

It started off as a hand job. I gently moved my hand up and down his cock. My grip was gentle on the head of his penis and tightened as I moved down his shaft.

He convulsed involuntarily.

I pushed the covers away and took all of his cock in my mouth.

He sighed.

I licked the tip of his penis with my tongue then thrust the rest in my mouth. I kept sucking harder and harder until he said “Stop.”

I was confused for a few seconds until he sat up and crawled over to the foot of the bed. He knelt in front of me. He reached over, pulled my legs apart and plunged his cock into my pussy.

I sighed.

He was fucking me and it felt fantastic. The intensity of his eyes grew with each thrust.

Then he said the four words I absolutely love hearing from him, “I’m going to cum.”

He shot his load into me. I felt intensely happy.

“Wow, that was a lot cum,” he said sounding relieved.

I smiled back at him.

“Honey,” I said grabbing his hand, “I think we just made a baby.”

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.

Cold

His side of the bed would be completely cold if it weren’t for the dog sneaking up in his place as soon as I was fast asleep. It had been three nights since my boyfriend and I slept in the same bed. The emptiness was palpable.

We’d been arguing over money and domestic stuff. It doesn’t help that I’m unemployed and have no income. In theory my time off work should give me lots of time to be a domestic goddess. The truth is that I hate cleaning. I hate chores. I grew up in a large suburban house with a cleaner and I never had do much household work.

We argued, cried and argued some more. He took to sleeping in the guest bedroom. We sat on opposite sides of the sofa. He had so much anger he could barely look at me. Our conversations were perfunctory.

“Did you walk the dog?”

“Yes, an hour ago.”

“She needs to go out again.”

“Then you take her.”

There was coldness in his eyes. There was a distant silence between us. This lingered for three days. Yesterday he finally relented, kissing me passionately before he left for work. He grasped my hand in and squeezed it slightly. A squeeze that said, “I’m not angry anymore. We're gonna be OK.”

I felt reassured as I watched him walk out the door.

Crazy White Dudes

“You crazy white person!” I yelled to my boyfriend as he got dressed a few days ago.

Despite the fact that it was oh, 48°F (8°C) outside he decided to wear shorts. I hate to revert to cultural stereotypes, but what is it about some white dudes that make them wear shorts and sandals in cold weather?

“Huh? You’re calling me crazy? Pot. Kettle. Black.” He pointed at me and laughed to himself as I he made the funniest pun ever. “Get it? Black.” He reiterated.

“Why are you wearing shorts? “ I asked while putting on my winter coat.

He shrugged, “It’s not really that cold outside.”

Quandary: Should I have told my boyfriend he looks frigging ridiculous in shorts this time of year or should I just keep quiet?

At least he had enough sense not to wear sandals. But when I lived in NYC I’d see this thing ALL THE TIME.

In New York City as soon as the weather turns from OMG-Freezing to about 45°F (7°C), which is usually some time in March, white men all over the city start wearing shorts and sandals. What’s up with that? You can’t go two blocks without seeing pairs of pasty un-tanned legs walking about.

Why do some people wear clothes that defy the weather? When women that do that, I call them hookers. You know, those scantily clad ‘babes’ that hang out along side the West Side Highway. No coat, low-cut top and tacky high heels.

I know it's a little weird for my boyfriend that I feel cold most of the time. He has to endure me constantly turning up the heat, stealing the covers and have cold feet in bed. I understand that's weird. And maybe because I'm a black woman I favour warmer climates.

But why do men wear shorts when it’s cold outside? I don’t get it. Is it a white thing? I know, cultural stereotypes are bad. I've just never seen any black, Asian, Indian, Inuit, Hispanic or Pacific Islanders wearing shorts when in winter. It's always white men.

Can someone please enlighten me? White dudes, speak up now!

Living with the Boyfriend

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ANJELIKA: Hey Hey Hey, this is Miss Anjelika Jinx and Wanda. And you’re listening to Naive London Girl. You can find us on the internet at www.NaiveLondonGirl.com.

ANJELIKA: So, I wanna talk about life with the boyfriend and living with the boyfriend. I feel that I was totally completely unprepared for living with a boyfriend. It’s not bad it’s just like-

WANDA: The Waltons?

ANJELIKA: No, if you’re not prepared for something you spend half your time in shock. And a lot of it is re-examining things that I do and things that I’m not aware of.

ANJELIKA: My best advice for someone who is in their 20’s and is looking to get married and looking to find a guy: Don’t ever live alone. Always live with roommates-

WANDA: That’s depressing ‘cause I live by myself.

ANJELIKA: I know, but if I had to do it all over again knowing what I know now, I would always live with someone-

WANDA: But you did live with people. You’ve always lived with people. Like when you first moved to London you lived in a share house-

ANJELIKA: I know and I couldn’t wait to live on my own. I should have just always lived with other people. Because when you’re living with your boyfriend it’s like you’re living with someone. You’re sharing space. And you do it on so much of another level. Like me, I’m totally a messy person. Totally messy. I try to be clean, but I don’t try enough. I’m just messy. I’m just born messy-

WANDA: I know-

ANJELIKA: And my boyfriend is a control freak. And when he can’t control my mess he freaks out.

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The Sex on Tap Myth

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Life with the boyfriend, Sex on tap myth, What's the benefit of a relationship if you're not having sex? The wage gap Colin Firth and Iain Lee. Match.com, Hanging out with fans.

Bill Bailey, Male comedians vs female. Roseanne Barr, Rita Rudner, Ellen Degeneres, Sarah Silverman, Jay Leno, Louis CK, Joan Rivers, Victoria Wood


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Afro Beauty

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Has anyone seen the movie "Good Hair" by Chris Rock. I'm wondering if it'll be released here in the UK?

I was planning on getting a relaxer to straighten my hair at the end of the month. My boyfriend has made it very clear that he doesn't want me to use any chemicals in my hair. He wants me to sport an Afro. Now, I have much love for "sistas" who wear their Afro well. But it just isn't for me. It just wouldn't look right on me. Now, I need to convince my boyfriend of that.

Your thoughts?

My Boss is a Cock

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Length: 1 hour 4 minutes

Summary: Wanda ponders if men really like going down on women? And Anjelika gets laid off but enjoys getting laid.

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Cumming After He Comes

Lately I've been having this weird sensation. No, it's not anything bad. I'm just curious if any other girls get this too?

After some passionate lovemaking, right after my boyfriend cums in me I feel the need to orgasm. What's up with that?

We usually start off our sexcapades by him eating me out until I can't take it anymore. Does it sound cliché to say that my boyfriend makes me cum harder than any other guy I've been out with? Even if it is cheesy it's true. It's always multiple orgasms and I always cum really hard. And I always have to beg him to stop.

After the cunnilingus, we move on to fucking. "Fucking" sounds too crass to describe what I experience. Feeling my boyfriend's erect cock inside me is one of the best feelings in the world. There is something wonderful about submitting to him. Maybe it's love or passion? (Maybe it's me feeling broody?) Whatever it is, after he cums inside me I feel great, really great. I feel the need orgasm again.

I look into his eyes and say, "I love you" while I'm fingering my clit to the point of orgasm. It's only after that that I'm ready to curl up in his arms and fall asleep.

Swiss Miss and a Pussy-Fish Named Wanda

1 hour 14 minutes

Wanda and Anjelika Chat about: Wanda and Anjelika chat about: Barry from Watford, Switzerland, Math in your native language, Whitewater rafting, Eating disorders, Wanda the food thief, Sheila Take A Bow, Shout outs, GTI, BBC, Television Centre, Embarrassing mums




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I Get it Every Night

Generally, my boyfriend doesn't want me to write about 'us.'   On the odd occasion after some amazing sex he'll say, "It's okay for you to blog about this."  But by then I've normally too tired to blog.

I'm a little tired of people complaining about my blog.  If you don't like it go read Girl with A One Track Mind or some shit. (FYI, she's banned me from her Twitter for some unfathomable reason).  By all means go read her blog as I'm finding it to be completely scintillating these days.

My boyfriend moved into my flat yesterday.  For a guy who doesn't have a lot of stuff, he has SO MUCH stuff.  Mentally, it's a big step, but at the same time he's been here for the past fortnight so nothing has really changed.  We're doing a 1-month trial to see if it works out.  I feel a bit offended by that.  Am I really a one-month trial like Netflix  or Lovefilm?  After 30 days if he doesn't like it he can cancel his direct debit or something?

Anyhow, since he's been here the past couple weeks I've been getting licked out every night.  He worships my pussy and I love it.  He asks to lick me.  And there are times when he can't get enough.  He loves my pussy juice as much as I love Coke.  And if I'm a good girl tonight, I'm gonna get some cock, too.

Even though I'm not blogging about sex, I still have a filthy mind.  He's gonna shoot me full of his cum tonight and thinking about that makes me so horny!

The Disgruntled are Revolting

From Anonymous:

your blog its a scam now....you have failed us. Yo... your blog its a scam now....you have failed us. Your blog is full of ads and that is not good for your image but good for your pocket. SInce you are now in a relationship your or view of things are different. Im not reading this blog anymore. Doesnt even gives me a hard on or gets my wifes pussy wet (thats a deep insult for a sex blogger).

Im sorry but WAKE THE FUCK UP BITCH!!!!!

My only reply is to quote the Bible Sex and the City, from the episode, "Splat." Those of you who are intelligent enough will get it.

CARRIE
Why can't you been happy for me?

MIRANDA
I'm sorry but, I don't understand why you have to move away and give up your life.

CARRIE
You moved to Brooklyn!

MIRANDA
That's just Brooklyn!

CARRIE
I cannot stay in New York and be single, for you!

MIRANDA
What?!

CARRIE
This is about you, as long as I'm here, in the same place, writing my column, then nothing has really changed.

MIRANDA
No this is about you.

CARRIE
No. You moved on, Charlotte's moved on, even Samantha's moved on! I can stay here and write about my life, or I can go with him and live my life.

MIRANDA
You mean his life? Carrie I love you, come on!

CARRIE
Then just say it, you don't like him.

MIRANDA
Fine, I don't like him.

CARRIE
Then don't you, go to Paris with him.

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.

Laid and Laid off

We made love this morning and spent ages cuddling. That consequently resulted in me being an hour late to work. Yes, I should be more vigilant and more punctual but when you're getting laid off sometimes you just don't give a fuck.

Taking it Easy in August

I know I haven't been updating the blog lately. I'm taking it a bit easy in August. Wanda's on holiday in Edinburgh so we won't be podcasting until she is back.

I have a new stalker so I've been spending a lot of time dealing with that. He doesn't read the blog, thank God. It's just annoying and scary that I've had to call the police on him three times last weekend. He was arrested for assaulting me last year. Things are kicking off again, I guess, so the threats have begun yet again. I'm in the process of filing an injunction. I just don't understand why some people are so crazy?

Oh also, my car was broken into. Mobile phone was stolen. I got the phone replaced and then got mugged a few days later. And yes, they took the replacement phone.

I've been having some ups and downs with the boyfriend. I love him so much, so I hope we work everything out. And it looks like I'm getting laid off.

I'm keeping my chin up. I don't feel defeated. I just feel annoyed that I've had to go through so much unnecessary shit.

How's your August shaping up?

Cold Cock and Emotional Bliss

53 minutes

Wanda and I chat about men, relationships and we review the Womoilia Emotional Bliss sex toy.




Direct link to media [Click here]
Listen on Mevio [Click here]
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RSS Feed [Click here]

Products I recommend:

• Need condoms? http://www.frenchlettercondoms.co.uk/
• Need Sex Toys? http://www.boudoirsextoys.co.uk/
• Need a Vibrator? http://www.emotionalbliss.com/
• Need Jewelry? Diamond.com: Promo code ADNLG

• Need Fashion Advice? http://www.mynewbestfriends.co.uk/

Men, I Need Your Help

I asked this question on Twitter and Facebook but it's worth asking again on my blog.

Question:  Besides cooking, sex and sport what are the best ways a woman can please her boyfriend?  Can you give me some suggestions?

DYI Sex Toys and Wanda Does Boston

1 hour 15 minutes

Wanda and I chat about:



Swimming in the Thames
Windfalls
Coke vs Pepsi Max
Zac Efron
Would a straight man buy a pink Hoover?
Sex toys out of house-hold objects
Wanda in Boston
Improv, Jazz
Vaginal Orgasms
Bruno
Big breakfast, Grits
and Losing beer virginity


Direct link to media [Click here]
Listen on Mevio [Click here]
Listen on iTunes [Click here]
Listen on Zune [Click here]
RSS Feed [Click here]

Products I recommend:

• Need condoms? http://www.frenchlettercondoms.co.uk/
• Need Sex Toys? http://www.boudoirsextoys.co.uk/
• Need a Vibrator? http://www.emotionalbliss.com/
• Need Jewelry? Diamond.com: Promo code ADNLG

• Need Fashion Advice? http://www.mynewbestfriends.co.uk/

The 11-Inch Poo

with Suzanne Portnoy
42 minutes

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• The "We" in relationships
• Anal Sex Info
• Are you experienced?
• The shy guy
• The 11-inch poo
• Periods
• Beppy Comfort Tampons
• How do you know if your relationship is moving too fast?

Suzanne Portnoy
http://www.backonthemarket.wordpress.com
http://www.twitter.com/suzanneportnoy

Products Suzanne Recommends

• http://www.passion8.co.uk/prodinfo.asp?number=9142
• http://www.beppy.com/

Products I recommend:

• Need condoms? http://www.frenchlettercondoms.co.uk/
• Need Sex Toys? http://www.boudoirsextoys.co.uk/
• Need a Vibrator? http://www.emotionalbliss.com/
• Need Jewelry? Diamond.com: Promo code ADNLG

• Need Fashion Advice? http://www.mynewbestfriends.co.uk/

Naive London Girl
http://www.NaiveLondonGirl.com
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http://www.twitter.com/naivelondongirl
http://www.facebook.com/naivelondongirl

Fun in the Sauna

• Calling out Andrew Charles Leonard
  
• Wanda's heartbreak
  
• Never ask a guy out
  
• Meeting the fans
  
• Shout outs
  
• Imran and Julian
  
• Period sadness

Listen on Mevio: 

http://www.mevio.com/episode/160249/Fun+in+the+Sauna/a>

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Listen on iTunes

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

Not Having Sex This Weekend

Petty argument + lost mobile phone + fate conspiring against us = boyfriend sadness.

*sob*

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.

Mystery of the Disappearing Boyfriend

I've Googled the term "boyfriend disappeared" and boy oh boy did I find a lot of stuff out there! Disappearing boyfriends are an international phenomenon. I didn't realize the extent of it

On this website the girl hasn't seen her boyfriend in 6 weeks. Crikey. And the advice the website author gives?

Have you considered the fact that Jesus Christ loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life? No matter what the circumstances are, He can change you from the inside out and give you a new perspective on life.

Actually, no, that's one of the few possibilities that I haven't considered.

It happens to gay guys. Some very sound advice here at this site.

Bottom Line: Move on as soon as you feel up to it. Date and stay determined to meet a man who deserves your time and attention. If the missing man ever reappears, think long and hard before you automatically let him back into your life. Keep in mind that old expression, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

It happens to Canadians, eh.

A: Blow this bubble out of mind; your feelings are more about past hurt than present loss. You were a long-distance couple who didn't have much time in each other's company, if any.

It happens to friends of friends.

Anybody ever had a boyfriend just disappear?
The reason I ask is because I was recently talking to one of my close girlfriends who told me about her college boyfriend who never broke up with her. He just disappeared and never saw or spoke to her ever again. She said one night they went to some university function like a dance or ball. She said her boyfriend was kind of in a bad mood that whole night. He left the party without telling her and she never saw him EVER AGAIN!

It even happened to Olivia Newton-John

So I guess the disappearing boyfriend happens to the best of us. At least it gives me more material to write about. And remember Pete (real name Tom), I always get the last laugh.

Say it Ain’t so, Joe, er, Pete

Say it Ain’t so, Joe, er, Pete

I never thought of myself as someone afraid of to commit. After all, here I am searching for Mr. Right. Of course when he comes along I’ll want a monogamous relationship with him, right? At least that how the script goes in my head: Meet a great guy. Go on a few dates with him. Decide to be exclusive monogamous relationship – or not?

Friends, Romans, Former Shags, Countrymen: I, Anjelika Jinx now have a boyfriend. I feel like this is a monumental statement that I need to yell from my balcony as it’s been a while since I’ve said that.

It’s early days, so who knows how it will go? My boyfriend, let’s call him Pete, is the real deal. Tall, handsome, polite, intelligent, terribly nice, sweet, adoring and crazy about me. If ever there were a doting boyfriend, then he’s the epitome.

I should be happy. I should be on cloud 9. This is what I wanted isn’t it? There’s this part of me that’s thinking, “He’s too keen. This is happening too quick.”

The fucked up thing is, if he rejected me just a little I would be SO into him. Maybe it’s the “treat ‘em mean to keep ‘em keen” philosophy? Rejection is one of the most desirable qualities I dig in a guy. If a guy is standoffish, emotionally unavailable or distant I like him more. Why?

Why can‘t I just appreciate a good guy when he comes along? Maybe there are some things I’ll never know the answer to.

This Week Sucks

This week sucks

I’m chilling in my flat listening to slow jams, which sometimes are the best. Earlier today I was listening to the album Rudebox by Robbie Williams. This is one of the few albums that I thought was total shit the first 10 times I listed to it then I changed my mind. The more I listened to Rudebox, the more I realized that it’s actually a solid album:



His song, “The 90’s” has been in my head most of the day. As far as songs go, I’ve heard much better. There’s nothing pretty or melodic about this song. Lyrically it’s unsophisticated. It’s not even sung property. It’s a lazy spoken-word ditty. What stands out about it, however, are the raw emotions.

Is it a song, or is psychotherapy? Just by listening to the song, you can’t help but think, “should he really be saying all of this so the public can hear?” It’s almost…. embarrassing. I find it really heard to listen to someone’s pain. But somehow the song still draws me in.

It reminds me of something Wanda once said. Regarding my podcast episode, "Fallout and Foreplay." She said that the emotions on it were so raw, that it too was hard to listen to. Funnily enough, I got more e-mail about that episode than any other episodes.

Besides that my week has been pretty shit. Work is un-relenting. It’s totally driving me insane! I got in an argument with Wanda. I got mad at Mr. Charming all over again and decided not to be friends with him. If there’s anything I’ve learned from the BFE debacle is that sometimes it’s just best to walk away.

I think Kenny Rogers said it best when he said, “You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em / know when to fold ‘em / know when to walk away / know when to run/” And the situation with Mr. Charming is indicating that I should run far, far away.

I haven’t had a paycheck in nearly 2 months, so I’m totally skint. I have MINUS £9.50 in my bank account.

I’m a month late getting my book revisions back to my agent. And on top of that, my fucking Mac died yesterday! The hard drive is busted – and if it turns out that my book can’t be recovered I am going to fucking FREAK OUT!

Here’s my shit list for this week:
1. Payroll – who can’t seem to get their shit together and pay me on time.

2. Mr. Charming – who remains an asshole. If you’re that curious listen here. (skip to 29:59)

3. The Apple Store on Regents Street – They suck and you can never get an appointment with them.

4. British Gas – How is my gas bill over £200?!?

5. Phone chargers that don’t work.

Send me positive vibes and maybe next week will be better

Cock-a-poo

Cock-a-poo



Wanda and Anjelika discuss:

- Joseph in the Bracknell
- Hull
- Tories
- Relationships
- Having sex with your husband everyday
- Hillbilies
- Corn
- Abortion

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!