awkward sexual experiences

Mr Feline

catApologies for the absence. I have (unintentionally obviously) been off collecting subjects for this blog.

Mr Feline was named so due to his love of cats. I love cats too so this was a welcome quality.

Mr F and I saw each other for a good few months, things were generally ok and there were no significant issues.

Until last week, when he repeatedly forced his hand between my legs and touched me intimately without my expressed consent, when I was half asleep in bed. I was fully clothed and had given no indication that I “was in the mood.”

I feel stupid for allowing it to repeatedly happen, but at one point I thought I was imagining it like some sort of weird nightmare. And I felt guilty (as for medical reasons that don’t need to visit here) that we hadn’t had very much sex recently. And I thought he would stop. I was embarrassed at the thought of having to ask my partner to stop touching me. Or making a “drama” by saying no. Repeatedly telling him that I was asleep was not sufficient.

I left his house after the 3rd time he did it. I was so worried about upsetting him and prompting something unpleasant (as I know longer felt that I knew this man at all) I didn’t say anything. When I commented about his “attention” his reply was along the lines of “can’t blame me for trying / had to give it go.”

I spent the whole weekend in denial that it had happened. Then one morning in the following week, during my commute I started crying. I went to work, but the next day I took advantage of a private appointment to not attend work at all. It was that night I managed to get over my shame and embarrassment to speak to a few of my friends about it. The response was reassuring – it wasn’t my fault, I hadn’t given consent and he had taken advantage of the “lack of sex situation” in a very awful way.

When I messaged Mr F to end things, he apologised a lot but kept saying that he had “misread” the situation. He then said that he’d really miss me. This was somehow one of the worst parts. He couldn’t admit properly that he was in the wrong, and that there was a part of him that didn’t hear “no” – so it’s ok, right, to just access your partner intimately whenever it suits, basically? And sigh, how awful of me to break things off…

I hope to never see or hear from him again, but I fear for the next woman he has a relationship with, as he truly showed no indication of this character to me until it was literally too late.


Mr Big Cock


Mr Big Cock had a big cock.

He was a smooth operator that I knew through my professional network. Somehow I ended up on a “date” with him – what I thought was innocent drinks – turned out to be him putting the moves on me in a sophisticated bar.

Despite not being interested, I allowed him to take me home in his flash car. I was a bit drunk and wanted to go to bed (alone.)

When we got back to mine he asked if he could come in to use the toilet. It felt rude and ungrateful after he had driven me home to say no.

He came in to use the facilities. I went to bed expecting he’d be able to let himself out as we’d said our farewells.

Or not.

He came into my room and somehow managed to drop his pants and dry hump me in his tight white boxers. Of which his cock bulged out of.

Apart from not being interested in him, I was at this point sleeping with Mr “But I Love You” – who will grace these pages very soon. Mr BILY worked for Mr Big Cock. Directly. My “relationship” with Mr BILY was not common knowledge, certainly not to his boss, who I found myself underneath being gyrated against on this unfortunate evening.

I eventually got Mr Big Cock to leave my house, on vaguely good terms.

I saw him around occasionally whilst I worked in the area, but when he found out about Mr BILY things were pretty damn awkward…

Mr Aspirant Door Fucker

Red home door (Irland).

Another dating site car crash experience.

We went out for drinks one Sunday night. By 10pm we were rolling around in my bed. I was drunk, he was…a man. (All my male friends tell me it’s rare a man says no to a fuck being offered up on a plate. My experiences directly correlate back to this belief. )

Anyway – he wanted to fuck me roughly up against my front door.

Top 5 things I can’t be bothered with when I’m drunk:

– Being fucked up against my front door, in any manner
– Cooking
– Dancing
– Polite conversation
– Removing complicated items of clothing


So, I told him if he liked me he’d wait and we’d go out again blah blah.

Did we? Hell no – stereotypical man after only one thing.

I hope he got blue balls just for keeping me from my drunken sleep that night – I’d put money on him furiously wanking in the bush outside my front door, and being caught by one of my neighbours, leading to a mis-fire.

That would explain the substance I stepped in on the Monday morning, anyway…

Mr Mile High Club


A good few years ago, I was travelling on a long distance flight with my mother. We were seated in a middle block of seats, with four in a row. I was sat between a young South African man and my mother.

I am prone to travel sickness on long distance flights. Several hours in things got dicey and I needed to get to the toilet, fast. The lights were down in the cabin as it was night. I turned to the young man next to me and asked him if he could move so I could get into the aisle. I realised he was faffing about quite extensively following my request to move, as under his blanket, he was touching himself.

After he’d managed to rearrange himself sufficiently I got up and scuttled to the toilet, feeling exceptionally disturbed. I was 18 at the time and obviously sat next to my MOTHER for god’s sake!!

I went back to my seat and sat down. My South African companion had the nerve to lean over and ask me if I was “feeling better.” Er…

Several other trips to the toilet were required, but luckily he managed to fondle himself in a manner that allowed him to get up out of his seat quickly and under his blanket for the rest of the flight. What a clever boy, managing to avoid a lap of sick AND knock one off at the same time.

Some people will do anything to join the mile high club…

And yes. My mother saw it all as well.