Month: June 2014

Mr Hairy Back


His back was so hairy, I could hardly touch it at first…But as the rest of the package pleased me so…

When I was 18, I was like most. Still figuring out who I was, enjoying really silly drunk nights out and not being overly responsible, like you are more inclined to be when you are older. I was far from innocent though.

This probably explained why Mr HB clocked me. Being a more mature man, he knew things I was yet to learn and certainly put the moves on me in a way I found quite exciting and daring given the environment we were in.

I can’t remember if he told me before or after we started having sex that he had a girlfriend and that he also lived with her. I wasn’t bothered as I was addicted to the thrill of sneaking off with him for sex. And it was his decision to cheat on her, not mine. I was single at the time and therefore a free agent.

The way Mr HB scorned me (and lowered my opinion of the male species) was by proposing to his girlfriend whilst we were having an affair. It feels a bit weird, even when you are the other woman, for something like that to occur. It moves the goal posts and causes a need for things to be re-assessed – like a risky financial investment when the market changes or shows some turbulence. When I asked him why he’d proposed, he revealed a lot of it was guilt driven due to our affair

Shortly after, I cooled things off as the situation was no longer “doing it” for me. I also moved away from the area shortly after.

Up until last year I was still getting texts off Mr HB for a hook up. He’s now married (to the same girl he proposed to) with a toddler. I kept saying no so I guess he’s given up asking. I have no interest in him these days, for many reasons, one of which being that I have Mr OJ on speed text…


Mr Obsessed Diaries, episode 2; The Meet Up

After about 4 months of contact with this guy I had known for a few years but had seemingly dissapeared off the face of the earth (wishful thinking) for a majority of the time i had the misfortune to know him, we agreed to meet again.

When I say agree I mean “pleeeease see me, i love you so much i want you to have my babies, give me a chance” kind of talk until I agreed.

He met me from work one night and we went for a drive in his swanky car. He had travelled about 50 miles to see me and right from the off he was full on.

Within 10 minutes he was trying to play tonsil tennis with me, sadly for him, he kept hitting the net on his serve. I wasn’t disinterested, just figuring out what I was thinking of the situation.

He was staying in a hotel, I was staying at my boyfriend’s at the time (oops).

Never has anyone so forcefully tries to get me to stay in a hotel with them. I wasn’t seeing alarm bells, I just thought he was keen and really into me, and he thought I was playing hard to get.

Thankfully after a few hours of me repeating why I had to go home he drove me to my boyfriends and we agreed to meet in town the next day. So we did. I went into a shop to buy a top I had my eye on and he met me after telling me he bought me a present. It was a new phone (mine was well known for breaking and being old) which I said I couldn’t accept but he gave it to me anyway.

He gave me money to buy sexy underwear for that night when I was told I was staying with him. I bumped into some friends and was having a chat so he jumped in with “look at my job look at my car look at my new girlfriend” i managed to laugh it off.

He dropped me home after recklessly driving his car to try and impress me as I had work that evening. Again he picked me up and we drove to the hotel where there was champagne and roses waiting and i was blown away.

After mixing the champagne with some vodka most of the night is a blur, all I remember is being told to dump my boyfriend and having sex.

I woke up the next day a little worse for wear, clothes everywhere and feeling horridly guilty. Arms and legs everywhere and then I felt this weird feeling for this guy I thought for some reason he meant it when he said he loved me.

He woke up saying all the right things “morning beautiful” “you look so awesome” then “we would be so good together” I agreed to some point. Me being 17 over-romantasised sex for “making love” and basically fell for him there and then for no real reason other than he looked at me like he didn’t want me to leave and said all the right things.

His boat home was booked and we were saying goodbye until we decided I was staying in the car. I got on the boat home with him. Thankfully I saw sense and got the next boat back. I had run away before and the end result was not pretty. After a somewhat emotional goodbye we agreed to meet again….


The Saga of the Micro Penis


So, once upon a time I had a good male friend. We were exceptionally good “happy hour” friends due to our shared love of booze. Unfortunately after one too many drinks during happy hour, a very unhappy hour was then spent in bed, with things seen that could never be unseen. I would also say felt, but, umm, I didn’t really feel it. It was undoubtedly the smallest penis I had ever (and to this date) seen.

So, unsurprisingly, our friendship went through a crap patch after this interaction but we weathered it out.

The next time I saw him was for his Birthday. He bought along a male friend, and I a female one. We hit the town after a few drinks at mine. Many drinks later, my friend and I decided we’d take the boys to a lap dancing club. Obviously, this went down a treat.

So, after a while in the lap dancing club, the birthday boy with the micro penis took a liking to one of the dancers. Myself and his friend were delighted to purchase him private dances and giggled away like school children in the corner as he was repeatedly led away.

At some point, we realised we’d not seen the birthday boy for a good while. We had a word with some of the staff and learnt that he had been ejected from the establishment for his conduct during his “last dance.”

So, we all piled into a taxi back to mine, with many jokes made along the journey at the birthday boy’s expense. He and my friend were now a bit drunk, which added to the amusement.

Once back at mine, bed arrangements were made – boys in the living room, girls in the bedroom. However, when I came out of the bathroom I saw MY moving duvet cover with two bodies clearly engaged in some adult fun underneath it on MY bed. I muttered good night and shuffled off to sleep in my living room with the birthday boy’s friend who was also feeling extremely awkward. The best however was yet to come (!) when we were treated to the sound of my bed creaking and various other accompanying sex noises in the small hours of the morning. Birthday sex indeed.

Needless to say the next morning was pretty hideous and the boys made a quick exit. Discussion with my friend after their departure alluded to me that she’d been incredibly drunk and somewhat not in her right mind to have properly consented. But, she did remember his micro penis and had resisted mumbling the words “is it in yet” during the act, which was clearly worthy of an Oscar.

During the following week I received many apology texts from the guilty penis – needless to say our friendship was unrepairable at this point and I didn’t then hear from him for years, which was fine by me.

Contact was then made a few years ago, asking if we could meet up as he had big news. It turned out he’d been sorting his life out, and was having a baby with his now long-term partner. He did also however let me know that on the fated night in the lap dancing club, he’d given his dancer his business card. They’d then met up for a date or two, but it didn’t progress because, among other things “she was an awful kisser.”

It seems not all birthday presents are as pleasing when the bright and shiny wrapping paper is removed…A bit like when you discover a micro penis lurking in a pair of boxers…

Mr Baby Maker

I once had liaisons with a man I knew through my professional network. I have called him “Mr Baby Maker” as by his early 30s he already had about 6 kids. So he’d clearly put the hours (or minutes) in before being on the martial break he was on when we met. (And yes. Genuine martial break – confirmed through the grapevine.) 

All was somewhat normal with Mr BM until late one night it was getting a bit filthy on the phone, and the phrase “it’ll feel like I’m raping you” was uttered. Queue me being completely floored. This is not a turn on. Am I supposed to find it one? What the hell do I say now? Is this…normal?! 

It turns out rape fantasies are “a thing.” Unfortunately(!), as they aren’t mine, I stopped liaisons with Mr BM and am fortunate not to come across him very often professionally anymore. 

Ever find yourself in the same situation on the phone by the way, do what I did. Start snoring. 


Mr “Manager”

Like Number One, I too have foolishly allowed myself to become an online dater. There are plenty more where this one came from, I promise.

So I met Mr “Manager” online – we progressed to chatting offline, and got on brilliantly. In terms of a prospect, he looked great – a Manager, single, good-looking in his pics, owned his own place and lived locally. I was feeling positive.

Oh how wrong could I have gotten it.

First of all, when he turned up, I thought he was a hobo. He had a full on beard and was dressed like a someone’s fashion challenged father.

He then proceeded to tell me about his sister’s new baby. At length. To a point that was WEIRD.

On top of this, it turned out that he was the Manager of…a local shop. As in your local convenience one stop. His ambition was…to keep doing this. Right. So whilst I’m lying in bed at night worrying about big changes that affect people’s lives…he’ll be wondering if he’s flogged enough Mars Bars this week?!

I should insert a disclaimer here. Shop Managers are necessary and a cog in the big wheel of retail. I just wouldn’t date one – or be “ambiguous” about my job to a prospective partner when it’s something you’ve already discussed.

So, you thought the fun had finished? No. Against my better judgement I allowed him to drop me back to the vicinity in which I lived. (It was a bitter Winter’s night and I am not good with the cold.)

Upon arrival in my neighbourhood, he pulled up and stopped the car. I thanked him and went to open the door. In a voice, that in my memory sounded a cross between Gollum and your Granddad – said – “What about a kiss then?” I swear I almost physically shuddered. “Er, that’s sort of ruined the moment, so thanks again, hope you get home ok” was the best reply I could construct, after one of the worst dates I’d ever sat through.

As he drove off with his tail between his legs, I told myself that I’d have to stop this internet dating malarkey and seek “my precious” elsewhere…

“I’m good at sex, a prostitute told me so!”


“You might not like this story”, he opened with ominously, but with a twisted sense of pride that I was already weary of.

“Well don’t tell me then”, I sighed. I meant it as well.

You may already be familiar with who A Scorned Woman #4 refers to as ‘Mr Obsessed’. I also had the misfortune of dating him, luckily my exposure to him was for much less time, but more on that later.

For now, all you need to know is that Mr Obsessed has a penchant for spurting bullshit, and 90% of conversation is him boasting about various ‘fun’ nights out, which quite frankly a normal human would be ashamed of.

Anyway on this occasion he’d decided for some reason, to defend the size (or lack thereof) of his penis to me.

He decided to do this by telling me about a time that he and his friend were completely off their faces, on god knows what, and had decided to visit a brothel. Again, why anyone would tell their new girlfriend this is beyond me, but he was actually genuinely proud!

The story goes that his friend is more well endowed than Mr Obsessed, but had lasted for less time, whereas Mr Obsessed, with his micro penis, had lasted for ages. Apparently the prossie complimented him on how good he was with his stamina, and he thought this was genuinely a good reference that he should pass on to me!

Maybe if her holes were the size of our Lego lady I would’ve believed him…