Ooh la la avec les hommes Francais

So after an hour of feeling pissed off on Thursday after hearing Mr Double-Barrel on the radio, Miss America and I decided to go out on the piss and I was under strict orders to pull me an Irishman. I failed, dismally. And picked up a Frenchman instead. We went out for dinner and met a group of French guys who were in Ireland for a fishing trip. They were all the same age, 32/33, and all of them were lovely, compounding the stereotypical image of unfriendly French natives!

There were three of them who lived in Westport, I’m not sure what their relationship was to the guys who we were talking to but they seemed nice enough. And one of them took a shine to Miss America – never mind the fact he was there with his girlfriend. He was seriously cute and honestly, if looks could talk his would have said ‘I want to eat you now’. Intense wasn’t the word.

I’m sure you’ve already gathered, but Miss America is a great wing woman. I can be shy around guys but she thinks to ask leading questions and keep them interested. So we ended up going on for a few drinks with them and I got chatting to the one I’d had my eye on from the start. I’ll call him The Frenchman. He was very much my type – snowboarder, indie looking. He reminded me of a cuter Fred Durst and I used to love him back in the day. Over the course of some drinks we chatted and swapped English and French. When the club got ready to close, we went back to their cottage and Miss America was more than happy to keep me company.

Once there, the champagne and whiskey came out. Looking back, it could’ve been dangerous – two girls getting drunk with five French dudes, but hey, it was fun. And I fancied the pants off The Frenchman. Miss America decided she wanted to see the sunrise and suggested we go for a hike up the hill, but as time moved on, she ended up nudging me, telling me that if I wanted to pull him, I’d better get on with it before I lost the chance.

You already know I’m shy. I hadn’t even kissed the guy, though we had been flirting over the course of the evening. So I put my 50 Shades hat on, gulped down the rest of my drink, took his hand and into the bedroom we went.

Who needs an Irishman when you can have a sensual Frenchman instead! Remember my blog post where I said I couldn’t remember the best sex I ever had? Yeah. I do now. I don’t think I’ve ever slept with anyone who was do focussed on my pleasure before. Plenty of kissing, massaging, intense staring…yum. I missed out on the sunrise (it was cloudy anyway) but I didn’t really care. I remember Miss America shouting that she was going to take my hiking boots, but that’s about it. A couple of hours later they came back and after a quick hello and a drink, we all went to bed. After a few hours kip cuddled up to The Frenchman, he told me he only had one hours sleep, because I was in his bed. It was apparently a ‘great, great moment.’ And no, Miss America, I don’t think he meant my snoring!

It’s safe to say Friday was a write off, but after such a fabulous night it was an even price to pay. It took my mind off Mr Double-Barrel completely and it put a smile on my face. Not bad 🙂

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Getting the treatment

It’s Monday already. Not quite sure how that happened! My weekend with MOD was good – mostly hungover, but good. When I got to his house I was more than surprised to smell a roast cooking in the oven. I’d expected to get a bag of chips or something, not least because I know money isn’t his best friend at the moment. When he went split personality on me, we’d been talking about a shared love of roast dinners and it seemed he remembered that. He told me I had roast beef, roast potatoes, mash and veg, and to top it off, chocolate cheesecake. And a bottle of red wine. Clearly I was getting the treatment!

What I liked was that there was no awkwardness. We fell back into our default mode of taking the piss out of each other for pretty much the whole weekend. After stuffing our faces and leaving the cheesecake til later, we went to our friends gig. There were a few people from school there too and we had a good laugh. Of course we had a deep conversation about life and love and he very nearly shed tears talking about his frustration at not being able to see his son as much as he’d like, but on the whole we had a fun night. He was a perfect gent, buying me drinks and holding my jacket all night – small things make me smile. We went into town for some more drinks before heading back to his and when he stripped off the fun began. Thankfully this time he wasn’t sick – not while we were busy anyway. And I’m meant to be the lightweight!

We progressed to sober sex (which was just as good) and then he took me out for lunch, which is when my hangover started to really kick in. Not fun when you consider I’d been taking the piss out of him all morning. Karma is a bitch. After doing the rounds seeing the family, I went back to his to sleep. He was meant to be going out but as he was still feeling rough decided not to. Instead, his friend came round and we had pretty much a repeat of last time all three of us were together: lots of stupid talk, giggles and drinking. We eventually went to bed at 5am. So much for a quiet night in! It was an early start the next day – me getting my train back to London and him seeing his son, but I had a smile on my face.

After our drunken, deep conversation, it’s clear he wasn’t joking when he said his mind isn’t in the right place for a relationship, but regardless of where this goes, I’m glad we’ve kept in touch and seen each other again. He’s a very smart guy, more than I’d have given him credit for, and a great laugh.

In other news, I should be meeting up with Mr Double-Barrel again this week. Busy, busy, busy!

Hangovers, Cuddles and Seduction…

Just when you think things are going smoothly, someone comes along comes and throws everything out of kilter. Friday night saw me out for drinks after work, something I rarely used to indulge in, but it was a double leaving do – it would’ve been rude not to! And, OK, I had an ulterior motive. A friend, I’ll call him Mr Music, who I’ve suddenly found myself lusting over for the past few months, was also going to be there. Add to the fact that things had got a little…strange over the past few weeks and I had to find out what the hell was going on. After some texts were exchanged, he’d disappeared and I ended up feeling like a total twat.

One of the things I love about being single is that I can go out, shake my booty and have a drink without thinking ‘I have to be home at xpm’ which is what I was used to. Knowing that I had nobody to think about or go home to was probably one of the things that made my night as good as it was. Sad, perhaps, but true nonetheless.

I’d met an old workmate I’d not seen for years and as we were catching up, in walks my friend, Mr Music, with his cheeky smile as if nothing had gone awry between us. I’ve been getting into astrology recently and he’s an aquarius. One thing I’ve learned is that aquarians don’t do pressure. So, I ignored him. Well, I waved hello, motioned we’d catch up later, but then ignored him pretty much and concentrated on the old workmate I was with. A couple of hours later, the air was cleared and we were back to our normal flirty selves. A few cocktails and cheeky shots of Jager and we were on the dancefloor. And just when I thought we were back to being friends with basically no intimacy, he pinned me down (not literally, I wish!) on the sofa in the bar and we chatted. He doesn’t want to get hurt, I tell him not every person is going to hurt you. He tells me I’m pretty fabulous, I smiled and said, ‘I know’. I’d told him I’d got him a birthday present, a thoughtful one, and after pressing me, I told him what it was. Which I’m pretty annoyed about now, but at least I know he’ll like it and I think he was genuinely taken aback in a nice way when I told him what it was. It was one of those really weird, surreal conversations that you only get when you’re half-cut. Honestly, I can’t remember all of it because all I was aware of was how damned close he was to my neck. Send a tingle down my neck and I’m pretty much yours. So, with the heat of his breath and all that good stuff, I was only half listening.

In the end, we left, without even saying goodbye to our friends. He wanted a kebab and I wasn’t going to say no and when he invited me back to his, I accepted. With this guy, I know he values my friendship more than anything else, so when he said purely platonic, I knew that’s what it would be. That, and the fact that Aunt Flo’s in town meant nothing else was going to happen. It’s funny, I think my pheromones draw him in because most times we meet up, including the last time which did end in some fumbling, was not the right time for me. In any case, we got a cab, went back to his, ate and slept. Yep, not even a snog. He did pull my head onto his chest, which was nice, but seconds later he was snoring his lovely head off.

Now, hangovers aren’t nice. I was teetotal for about 8 years and I’m still not great with the roughness of the next morning, but I woke up first, tiptoed to the loo so as not to wake his housemate and tried to go back to sleep, ignoring the fact that my head felt like a sledgehammer was being wedged into it and my feet hurt something rotten. When he (finally) woke up, he stuck a DVD on and indulged me in some cuddle time. This is a man who doesn’t do soppy. At all. But he has this way of making me feel like when we’re together, he’s totally in the moment. Could I have kissed him? Absolutely. Would he have kissed me back? No doubt about it. One of the things we’d both laid bare the night before was that we both fancied the hell out of each other and at some point, sparks are going to fly. But even so, not a single drop of bodily fluids were swapped. I loved that I could just lay with him, without having to think about anything at all. I’d thought he’d maybe forgotten about the last night we’d spent together, but he’d said certain things that I thought he’d be too drunk to remember. And when the time came to get dressed, there was no awkwardness. Never mind the fact that our limbs had literally been tangled all morning or that he’d seen my stupidly wayward morning hair and puffy eyes. We got the tube together – him to go to meet his mates and me to go home and sleep.

But now, I cannot get this guy out of my head. It’s ridiculous, because we’d go for months without speaking before. But now he’s occupying a space in my mind that I can’t get him out of. When his birthday finally arrives, he has to be prepared because this going to be a targeted seduction. It’s something I’ve never set out to do before, but believe me, I got the lingerie, the perfume, the outfit. It’s the only thing I can think of to satisfy this itch and based on our past couple of encounters I think it’s fair to say we’ll have fun.

Of course, there is the question of whether things will change when (not if) I finally get him into the bedroom. I’d hate for our friendship to change in a bad way and I know that’s what he’s scared of too. Having said that, it’s been 4 years of flirting and heavy banter, and a good 6/7 months of mutual attraction, and that’s a long enough wait, thank you very much. For now though, as far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t exist unless he contacts me first. I’ve learnt not to over-text this aquarius man and if this is anything to go by, the thrill is definitely in the chase. Of course, it does mean I’ll have to unleash my intensity when I see him next instead of in a steady stream over the next few weeks, provided he doesn’t suddenly change heart or meet the love of his life. Hope he knows what he’s in for.