Where there’s a wedding there’s a way

Hoorah, my four months without sex have ended. I think four months is the longest I’ve gone without a bit of bedroom action, apart from a long term relationship I had which involved sex twice a year for a couple of years. Who says a boyfriend equals sex?

Anyway, it’s not that I have a huge libido, I don’t. It’s more a personal challenge thing and I usually set a maximum three month period to go without. Beyond that and I start to get the urge in a major way and although no single girl should be without a vibrator or three, there’s no substitute for getting jiggy with Mr Biggy.

So, after four months without a Mr Biggy in sight, I managed to pull a cute chappy at my mate’s wedding the other week. I had a really good night with him actually, and although the sex was quick and generally not very good because we were both so pissed, I had muchos fun-os. We danced, we talked, we laughed, we chatted with each other’s mate and his arm barely left my waist, which was lovely.

He’s five years younger than me, which usually I’d see as a problem; I’ve always had a thing for older guys and find youngsters a bit less mature. And ,as I’m approaching a certain age, young guys – so my brother tells me – view us as desperate to settle down and trap a guy into a relationship. Kinda true I guess, but not altogether fair. Give us a chance guys!

So, Chappy came across as fun, intelligent and had good manners. Buying me a drink is always good manners in my book. The fact that by the end of the night I’d sunk enough Pinot Grigio to drown an elephant did take the edge of things slightly. I threw up at the end of the night (Chappy doesn’t know this and I did a good job of  getting rid of the evidence – sink stains, bad breath etc) so when he came up to the hotel room we had a fumble and although I don’t consciously remember making a decision to have sex, that’s what we did. It was awkward ‘cos we were in a single bed, we were very drunk and also pretty tired by this point. But hey ho, it’s broken the seal and I’m good for another three or four months.

If it hadn’t been for the booze I don’t think either of us would have slept much. Chappy is quite a big guy and a single bed is no place for two people to enjoy a restful night. We both felt like we’d slept on the bedside table and I’m sure Chappy fell out at one point although I pretended not to notice.

I felt like poo the next morning and made my exit at 8am, doing the walk of shame through the hotel in floaty dress showing a lot of cleavage, and four inch heels. A little over-dressed for breakfast! I kissed Chappy goodbye and left him my number for good measure, not really knowing what to expect or if I was even bothered.

But, Chappy text me later that day and after a week or so of texting we arranged to meet. He was gonna come to my place for a chilled night in last night – and a bit of fumbling if I was lucky. He’d already warned me he was on call and may have to go to work, but that it hardly ever happened, and I had my pre-date afternoon planned – showering, shaving, moisturising and fishing out the candles and matches.

About three hours before he was due at chez moi, he got called to work – two hours away from where I live. Damn it. He was apologetic, bla bla bla, but part of me can’t help wonder if he’s lying and maybe he just chickened out? I don’t know. He has already suggested rearranging for sometime soon but I don’t like to get my hopes up. Guys let girls down all the time and I find it best not to get too excited. It’s a negative viewpoint I know, but the lower the expectation, the less the disappointment.

Anyway, watch this space. I hope me and Chappy hook up again, he was good company. And he looks pretty cute in his Facebook pictures. Thank God I wasn’t wearing me beer goggles that night!

Published in: on June 29, 2008 at 11:34 am Comments (2)
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Another one bites the dust

I’ve got a hen weekend this weekend, signalling the official loss of another single mate. In fairness, I didn’t know her when she was single but she’s not your average bride-to-be anyway; she still comes out, still gets drunk and is still just as much fun as us single folk.

So, this weekend will consist of alcohol, girl power. laughing and dressing up as Pink Ladies from Grease. And there will probably be a water pistol wily or two thrown in for good measure!

I do love hen weekends, although there are good and bad ones. It’s always a risk when a group of girls, who don’t necessarily know each other, go out. Will they get on? Will they stick to their little groups? Who will the bride-to-be stick with?

Sometimes they’re the ultimate night out for single girls – loads of male attention that you can act on, a chance to dress up and get a lot of attention (alongside bridey of course) and generally a good night out/weekend away. It’s usually the actual wedding that makes you feel a bit sad abut your single status – will that ever be me?

The last hen weekend I attended was brilliant from start to finish. We hit the town dressed in Moulin Rouge outfits – hotpants, fishnet tights, stiletto heels and corsets – perfect for attracting male attention, and we ended up chatting to some friendly coppers who were walking the beat. Turns out one of them was a Chief Inspector, and a pretty cute one at that.

At the end of the night my mate and I tracked him down and I handed him my mobile number, never for one second expecting him to use it. But he did! To cut a long story short, he ended up being my date at the wedding, much to the amusement of the girls on the hen night.

The bride had a huge noticeboard pasted with photos from the hen weekend in situ at the wedding reception and Mr Chief Inspector was on a lot of them. I only saw him once after that – he was cute, successful (I love coppers!) and a great kisser but he lived too far away and I find that once a guy starts sending saucy text messages, that usually spells the end of a relationship.

Men are often keen to swap naked photos and dirty sex talk but not so keen to take you out for a drink. Game over! And a Chief Inspector with a sock covering his crown jewels? Bit of a turn off!