How to lose a guy in 24 hours

Now, that I’m through with Ben, (the English teacher, remember?) because of his un-manly pasta-from-scratch-making ambition, and me being (apparently) not Buddhist- friendly, I am having a go at meeting men in a more traditional way. I go to a bar in Dalston.

It is great to be around real people again! Unlike having to stare at their profiles on internet, and coldly picking men that suit the fantasy of a relationship, this is a Russian roulette.

So, I’m here with my best friend Ella, who is great to go out with because we are truly compatible – she is a real opposite of me – decent, shy, non-ambitious, un-confrontational, funny yet quiet. Although occasionally we kind of swap – that’s the beauty of being non one dimensional women.

We drink cocktails because we think that beer smells, and it’s therefore not great if you are anticipating chatting to men.

The place is not yet packed; we are invited by the barman (which is quite unusual) to join a table with 3 other guys. I mumble ‘hi, thanks for letting us share, bla, bla’. They look delighted. Whatever, we exchange glances with Ella. We try to play it cool, even thought both of us have been way too busy to go out to ANY bar, for months.

The music is pretty good, the atmosphere very relaxed. It’s not glamorous at all, but it is cool and sexy. We decided to have a full on fun tonight, and agreed to bring men with us, back to Ella’s flat in Hackney. We even said, we would settle for one (and share) if worse came to worst…

Suddenly two guys from the other side of the table appear in front of us, and without asking, or even introducing themselves, say casually:

‘Hi. Are you Swedish?’

Simultaneously I say ‘Yes, we are’ and Ella ‘no, we are Polish’. Oh, God. She’s always like this: sweet and painfully honest. It is supposedly being just a start of playful conversation. Thankfully, they have not heard Ella’s reply (or pretended not to) and I continue with:

‘Yes, we are. You could tell by the size of our feet?’

We both are very tall, and that implies rather big feet. Guys look surprised and laugh out loud, inspecting our feet. The ice is broken, and we are now chatting in pairs. The shorter, dark-haired Chris talks to me about his media company and how he managed to once fire the other gay, Andy. I look at Andy, I like him – he’s tall, charming and very funny. I doubt he could ever deserve to be fired, and instinctively dislike Chris.

Ella reminds me that we’ve got to be in the other bar (‘Passing Clouds’) before 10pm, to get in for under £10. Andy doesn’t want to let us go, and holds us around shoulders, makes up rap music and we dance to it. We are all singing by now, and laugh at the lyrics we make up. And when I’m so close to Andy, I'm surprised at how good and natural it feels. Was that an attempt to kiss me? I wonder, when he brings himself even closer to me. The music changes, Ella turns away but Andy is still holding his arm around my neck. I quickly decide that it’s not the right thing to do – I move away. Andy says:

‘Did you know that the best place to find out a real smell of someone is at the back of their neck?’

He bowed his head to prove it. I touch his neck and inhale – I like his faint aroma of aftershave, mixed with some lemony smell, and maybe cigarettes. We stare at each other eyes, embarrassed.

Now in Passing Clouds. The bar is packed. There is a supposedly well-known SKA performer on the stage. Ella takes me upstairs, where the other bar is quiter, with a DJ and few sofas placed around. Hippy and sexy.

By the time we order drinks Andy and his mates are here. Wow, he is keen! We all sit down on sofas, Andy squeezes my hand secretly, while chatting to me and Ella. It is still unclear who he actually likes – me or Ella? They often go out for cigarette together, and giggle on the way back. But then now and again he suggests to Ella to go dancing. He then brings himself really close, and asks me questions about the kind of men I like.

I say I am not interested in relationships (although with him I probably wouldn’t mind to have a baby!). He tells me he is a journalist from Liverpool, but lives in north London, and works for the Sun paper, which I laugh at. He then dares to take a picture of me, (in front of Ella), saying I have beautiful eyes and that I look like a kitten... I must be drunk.

Few more drinks later Andy’s friends decide to leave. The music is now really loud. Andy brings the inevitable question (to both of us) - would we like to go to his place? Ella shouts that I’m staying in hers tonight, and that he is welcome to stay at hers too. He agrees and soon we take a taxi back to Ella’s, which Andy generously offers to pay for. Nice guy, I think.

Now in Ella’s flat, everything seems to go really quickly – Ella’s flatmate comes back from a party, and as they have a ‘history’, Ella whispers to me that she is going to spend a night in his room. I’m confused because there is only one room left,with one bed… and Andy is already there under the duvet! I close the door and I’m not brave enough to undress with the light on – he is a stranger after all, plus I have just come out of a long term relationship, and have no idea what to do in these kind of situations. Sensing my hesitation Andy jokes ‘c’mon, do a striptease’. I say ‘you wish’, switching off the light and undressing clumsily. ‘I have no pyjamas’ I state out laud and Andy offers me his purple cashmere jumper. I leave my panties on, naturally.

I slip under the cover; cold but with racing heart. He gently pulls me nearer whispering ‘come here’. We kiss. First time tonight. I don’t fight it.
I think I would have fainted if I wasn’t already lying down.

‘I need to tell you something’ says Andy suddenly. It wasn’t a whisper and for that reason it made me anxious. What is it that he needs to tell me at THIS moment?

‘I kissed Ella…When we were outside having a cigarette.’

I freeze, but I’m also surprised by how unaffected I am by this news. I think about something to say. I try to guess WHY he is telling me this now.

‘What would you like me to do? Go and get her from the other room?? We could swap? Or…’ I say slowly while making dramatic gestures. I realise he can’t see me.

‘No.’ he mutters. I could swear he lowers his eyes and blushes. It’s too dark to be sure.

‘Or... You are confessing, right?’ I dryly start a question, but the ending turns into a statement.

Without answering he sighs, turns towards me and kisses me softly. And I let him. We breathe faster, in the same rhythm. My hands are playing in his lush hair. He brings me on top of him, kisses me and tenderly pulls off his purple jumper from my, now hot, back.
…

To be continued

Serious Porn

I’m going back to 505, if it’s a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
In my imagination you’re waiting, lying on your side,
With your hands between your thighs

Stop and wait a sec,
Oh when you look at me like that my darling,
What did you expect,
I’ll probably still adore you with your hands around my neck,
Or I did last time I checked

But I crumble completely when you cry,
It seems like once again you’ve had to greet me with goodbye
I’m always just about to go and spoil the surprise
Take my hands off of your eyes too soon

I’m listening to this tune when I get a text from Mr TV Director:

Mr TV Director: Ever thought of starring in a film?
Beautiful but Grumpy: Have you?
Mr TV Director: Ha. I have thought about it.
BbG: And?
Mr TV Director: And didn't go through with it.
BbG: What kind of thing? Porn?
Mr TV Director: Yes
BbG: Ha, ha. You look too serious for porn!
Mr TV Director: Serious porn.
BbG: I could try to film you with the Malaysian (woman/man)
Mr TV Director: Try? You have a camera?
BbG: No, but you must have access, no? Hmm. You got me really excited here. I could write a script (with your help).
Mr TV Director: : ) no access actually! Well, maybe…But I know a director in the business
BbG: But would you let him be involved with you being a main character??
Mr TV Director: Maybe. He makes stuff for the web. But I don't want to be recognised.
BbG: That's another challenge we would need to discuss ;-) who would you like to be a leading female?
Mr TV Director: If you're happy to be filmed, he would be delighted! Er…Fern Cotton.
BbG: She looks like a bird.
Mr TV Director: Yes. I like her! What kind of woman do you like??
BbG: I like BOTH women starring in Mulholland drive.
Mr TV Director: Ok, I've seen them. Classically beautiful!
BbG: You like?
Mr TV Director: But of course! Can you get them?
BbG: Can you get Fern?
Mr TV Director: Er… I'll look for her on facebook.

I'm tempted! I must admit...

And my New Year resolution is to.... learn how to masturbate in a shower and/or toilet. Because tomorrow I'm going to Aberdeen for Christmas (on the coach for 12 hours!) - my flight has been cancelled...

Happy Christmas everyone! xxx

The Master and Margarita

Mr TV Director has proposed to me!

Well, he proposed to become a couple on Gumtree. One needs to start somewhere, I suppose.

We are to advertise for a girl to have fun with. I have just started to investigate the site (which to me, used to be synonymous with exchange of bike parts or used baby pushers) but I'm now looking at the alternative face of Gumtree. There is a whole part on Friends and Dating (just after Pets), with Casual Relationships, Desperately Seeking and Missed Connections sections. I can imagine what Casual Relationships ads would offer, but I’m rather intrigued by the other two romantic sounding sections. I start with Missed Connections and come across this lovely note:

Pretty Female Weds Approx. 11.30PM Stratford Station Central Line To Leytonstone

Hi, you were a young female waiting with your friends on the platform at Stratford for a central line train. I was standing on the platform just a few feet away from you. I think you are a nurse and perhaps you had been out for the evening together with your friends. You were the youngest of your group and I thought you was kinda cute. You were wearing a very small pretty gold heart necklace.

I held the door open and stopped it from closing on one of your friends. How I regret I let you go like that…

Or this one, which shows how lonely people can be in London:

The woman on the crowded Piccadilly tube Friday 5.40pm

We got talking on the platform when the trains were overcrowded and we couldn't get on two trains in a row. We chatted about the Christmas holidays, and I said how unusually friendly you were. I got off at Knightsbridge. You were heading to Gloucester Road. I know you said you're married but I'd love to just be friends with you. I felt a real human connection with you.

Now, back to Casual Relationships and find this intriguing:

Are you a submissive, bisexual or bicurious female? Would you like to be controlled together with another like minded girl? The two of you playing in bed while your master is watching and giving directions.
I make the rules: The two of you kissing, licking and fingering each other. Your aim will be to make the other girl cum first.
The one that wins will have the full attention of the master and the other girl.
The one that loses (i.e., the one that had an orgasm without permission) has to be punished e.g., spanked, covered by hot wax, or stand naked at the corner watching the other girl pleasing the master and learning from her.
This is just one of the games and tasks you will have to complete for your master. If you find this intriguing, reply with your details. As long as my advert is online there will be an available position for you!
Me: 28 years old, good looking, tall, athletic, intelligent guy.
You: 20 to 30 years old, bi-sexual or bi-curious, submissive, open minded girl.

Hmm, I still haven’t found a girl for us. But I now have open eyes.

The second burst

Brick Lane, last Sunday 6pm

It's a second date with Ben (the English teacher). I come out of Aldgate East station and give Ben a call. It's ringing but there is no answer.

I glance at the entrance to the Whitechapel art gallery, where I went yesterday with Gunter, the German artist. The exhibition we saw is still with me - French artist Sophie Calle, sends her lover's break up letter to 107 women to analyse it. The women were chosen for their professions and skills – head hunter, tarot reader, psychiatrist, ballet dancer, and a cook, among many others. Some women sung it, some danced it, and some slept with the letter. Overall, the guy was proclaimed a manipulating seducer, and a self-centred asshole. The female police detective even recommended 'Avoid at all cost'. Admittedly, the letter itself was a beautiful piece of work.

This exhibition brought back memories of the text message Mr TV Director sent me six weeks ago 'I have always been honest with you. I am not seeing anyone else. But I don't want a relationship. I never wanted anything serious. It is probably best if we don't see each other.' I burst in to tears when I read it. His text was a reply to inevitable questions. We couldn't meet up because he was working on a documentary, day and night, for a month…I then started to suspect he was seeing someone else and finally, at the peak of my obsession I texted him 'Dan. Be honest with me. If you are not planning to see me and have met someone else, then tell me so… And I can move on'.

I start walking and look for a quiet bar on Brick Lane. It is freezing, but it doesn't stop Indian restaurants' waiters from standing outside and trying to snatch clients. They are even louder tonight, animated and friendly, to keep warm perhaps.

My mobile rings, it's Ben, he is ahead of me, but is willing to come back to meet me half way. He sounds sweet and affectionate.

We kiss on cheeks at 'hello'. I try to catch his scent. Nothing. We walk in silence for a while. 'This is the one' says Ben pointing at the bar he finds suitable. We walk in, order mojitos and take it to the snug looking sofa, where we sit down, facing each other.

Ben seems melancholic tonight. He asks me about my future plans (again) and questions the little amount of information I revealed about myself on my on-line dating profile. Is he doubtful if I am ready for relationship? Well, I might not be ready, I suspect. Now I stop caring about what he thinks. I like him, but I just want to be myself, and wish he stopped asking about things, I have no answers to.

Now it's my turn to explore if he is right for me! He mentions his father is a doctor. I ask lightly if he is a gynaecologist, and soon feel ready to confess to my fantasies about doctors, dentists and gynaecologists. Ben looks at me with a mixture of surprise and delight, and… gets into a role play. He actually pretends to be a doctor for me! He is good. We look at each other and smile. I turn my head away to hide that I blush, but instantly my face is being pooled up and I feel Ben's warm lips on mine, then his tongue inside my mouth. He is gentle yet he holds me tight. I can smell him now. I breathe in a faint aroma of aftershave. He strokes my chin and cheek, keeps kissing my lips. I search for his hand, stroke inside of his palm, he grips my hand and I push my fingernails inside his, while biting his lip. He gently pulls away, but is still holding me close. We stay like this for the rest of the evening, while whispering memories of our childhoods and past loves.

I could not sleep that night – it must have been the sugar in mojitos.

Non-Linear Relationships

Mr TV Director is 10 years older than me.

He dislikes: eating out, cinema, concerts or sport.
He likes: making successful documentaries about war in Iraq, me visiting him at his flat in Notting Hill.

We still haven't seen each other since we have disagreed on 'fundamentals' two months ago.
But I have received an interesting proposition…

Beautiful but Grumpy: Amuse me – what else do you like if not blow jobs?
Mr TV Director: Anal play, both ways. Watching a woman play with herself. Any woman watching me, even if I don't fancy her.
A pause from me here...
Mr TV Director: So I like the idea of three because of all the watching and being watched.
BbG: So have you found the 3rd party for us yet?
Mr TV Director: Er… Not yet.
BbG: I might be able to get a couple soon.
Mr TV Director: Hmm. You could advertise us as a couple on gumtree.
BbG: Ha, ha. With photos?
Mr TV Director: Not allowed. But people reply with pics and then expect to be sent some.
BbG: You could try but I doubt people would believe us to be a couple.
Mr TV Director: More response to a woman! But I could do it from us both. But then you'd have to give me pics to send on.
BbG: Don't even start that trick with the pics! Ha, ha.
Mr TV Director: Yes. That is another thing that I like. But if not, you will need to send some on yourself.
BbG: You like taking pictures or just receiving?
Mr TV Director: Both good.
BbG: Nice. Are you not interested in what I like?
Mr TV Director: Oh. Do tell.
BbG: I can tell you that I don't like fingers inside me.
Mr TV Director: Oh? Oh!! What DO you like?
BbG: You will find out when you get us a girl.
A pause here - he's not replying.
BbG: …I like being touched the way you did at the Florence and the Machine gig.
Mr TV Director: Hmm. In public too.
BbG: And I like dinner tables. Don't you?
Mr TV Director: Oh yes. During a dinner party. Women only.
BbG: Kitchen tables are my favourite… I would love to be served instead of a desert… Bon appetit.
Mr TV Director: Mmmm, you taste lovely… And as I lick you I have two fingers inside you and one up your virgin bum. Mmm. You must taste me too before we leave the table. Feed on me…

Poetry

To live up to the title of this blog, here is some poetry...

TWICKENHAM GARDEN



BLASTED with sighs, and surrounded with tears,

Hither I come to seek the spring,

And at mine eyes, and at mine ears,

Receive such balms as else cure every thing.

But O ! self-traitor, I do bring

The spider Love, which transubstantiates all,

And can convert manna to gall ;

And that this place may thoroughly be thought

True paradise, I have the serpent brought.



'Twere wholesomer for me that winter did

Benight the glory of this place,

And that a grave frost did forbid

These trees to laugh and mock me to my face ;

But that I may not this disgrace

Endure, nor yet leave loving, Love, let me

Some senseless piece of this place be ;

Make me a mandrake, so I may grow here,

Or a stone fountain weeping out my year.



Hither with crystal phials, lovers, come,

And take my tears, which are love's wine,

And try your mistress' tears at home,

For all are false, that taste not just like mine.

Alas ! hearts do not in eyes shine,

Nor can you more judge women's thoughts by tears,

Than by her shadow what she wears.

O perverse sex, where none is true but she,

Who's therefore true, because her truth kills me.



by John Donne

X and Y

I still wonder why my X brought his date to the Gypsy Moth, where I was enjoying my first date with Ben, last night. It happened by chance, a very small one, considering the number of pubs in London.

I meet Ben in Greenwich, where he lives.

Ben looks lovely – he is tall, blond/ginger, and has a big, warm smile. He tells me about the year he spent in Paris while we walk towards the river, passing huge, shiny Christmas tree. The feel of romance is in the air. We talk about our ideas of social justice and charity work we both do. (I wonder if he will try to kiss me tonight). We both love London, it turns out. Ben was born here.

In the pub now. I check out his great body, and his lovely, small bum from the cosy corner sit, while he is queuing at the bar getting my gin and tonic.

He tells me how much he loves teaching English, the play he saw with his students last night, and his passion for Buddhism.
I try to steer the conversation towards his sexual interests but he is not responding (I keep wondering if he would be up for a 3-some or a visit to Killing Kittens).
In turn, he asks if I was thinking about having children and tells me how much he is missing his ex-girlfriend's dog.
I can't help but imagine us watching a play in National Theatre, while discretely touching each other…
I glance at his handsome face and suddenly realise that he reminds me of someone… Brad Pitt! He even behaves like Brad Pitt – a little doped…
But I DON'T LIKE BRAD PITT! I never liked him. I especially detest the way he talks, his boyish 'charm', and that infantile expression on his face. No!!!

This is then that I notice X and his date, scanning the pub for free seats. I'm so shocked I involuntary tell Ben that my X is here! He stiffens up and politely asks if I wish to hide behind him. I frantically explain that we are best friends, so there is no need to hide, but I also foolishly manage to reveal that we still live together…

We decide to leave, and I already sense that Ben isn't impressed.

He walks me to the station, and I can't stop thinking, that if we were never to see each other again, I would be gutted to have missed the chance of finally seeing ginger pubic hair…

More dirty talk

The veteran of on-line dating, Mr TV Director, is still demanding to meet me. He is trying to find ‘us’ a girl to have fun with, even though he is ‘not into that kind of thing and only doing it to fulfil your fantasy’.

We have only met twice before, but once ended up in bed.

Mr TV Director: Ha, haven’t heard from Kat. But then it has been a long time. I do know someone else… Older (forties), bit bigger than you, pretty Malaysian. Hmm. I didn’t want to see her again, but with you…
Beautiful but Grumpy: Old Malaysian woman… She might be a man! No!
Mr TV Director: I can tell you, she is NOT a man. She’s sex crazed and all woman!
BbG: I’m not convinced you would be able to tell, taking in account how desperate you are.
Mr TV Director: Yes, you have a point.
Oh, you’re being so difficult.
BbG: Some things can be negotiated, other, like fantasies and dreams, shouldn’t.

…….

BbG: Your name is Dan. Do you like it?
Mr TV Director: I prefer my own, but whatever fulfils your fantasy!
BbG: You may be appearing in one of my blog posts. How has your day been?
Mr TV Director: Boring, boring day. I’ve spent most of it trying to find a woman for you. Yours?
BbG: Who would have thought YOU would have a problem with that. Mine’s been good, thanks.
Mr TV Director: Why so good? I’m jealous.
BbG: You’ve got to start a blog! Bloggers can be amusing and refreshing. That’s not what I’ve been doing all day of course!
Mr TV Director: No, you’ve been gathering material?? Are you finished for today?
My plans for this evening have fallen through. But I would go out if there was a good offer.
Are you not out tonight then?
BbG: I might be going out to the local cinema later.
Mr TV Director: Adult cinema? Shame I have no porn to entice you over with.
BbG: No? I’m shocked.
Mr TV Director: Not that into it. Unless watching with someone.
I’m into real life women!
BbG: Shame you are not into REAL women, I might have been interested then.
Mr TV Director: I’ve failed to find you a woman today. If you don’t go to the cinema, we can go for a drink and try to pick one up. And if we fail, we can come back here and watch youporn.
BbG: I can’t. I’m on my period.
Mr TV Director: Well you can watch me and the lucky woman!
BbG: Intriguing but what if I find it so exciting that I won’t be able to resist but join?
Mr TV Director: You can play with yourself and take me in your mouth while I go down on her. Everybody’s happy.
BbG: That’s quite a lot of work you’ve invested just to get a blow job!
Mr TV Director: Actually I’m not a big fun of blow jobs!
BbG: Your face was telling a different story last time we met.
Mr TV Director: It’s all relative!
BbG: Ha! Thank you.

That evening I chose to go to the local cinema…

The return of Mr TV Director

Dan [Mr Tv Director] scarred my soul forever. In the next life, even if I come back as a gazelle, he will be able to recognise me by the scar he's left on my soul.

After not seeing each other for the whole two months, yesterday we got in touch again. It’s probably a mistake. The last time we met was rather disastrous. Our expectations were mismatched. He purely wanted sex (so he kept saying but was giving mixed signals), and I wanted... love.

Nothing has changed, except maybe that I might need to lower my expectations if I wanted to be seeing him.

We are both on Guardian Soulmates and exchange e-mails about latest dating results:

Mr TV Director: The date was, er, interesting. Polish! Barbara. I liked her. I didn't really fancy her, but the strange thing is, I would have slept with her because she had such a remarkable body! Slim legs and small bum, podgy waist, big boobs and big fat face! She got bigger as she went up.

I certainly don't want a relationship with her, but she has aroused my curiosity. She's bisexual and was asking me if I knew any women I could introduce her to!

If the three of us were to meet, wouldn't that be fun?

Beautiful but Grumpy: Sounds good. Was she actually sexy?
Mr TV Director: Not as sexy as you, but yes! I might be able to point you towards some pics.
BbG: Is she good in bed? Confident, imaginative, etc…
Mr TV Director: I guess so but I haven't slept with her!
BbG: You might need to sleep with her first to test her. Otherwise we might have got together, start the fun...and realise she is useless!
Mr TV Director: Ha! If you were with me it's bound to be fun anyway, even if she just watches!
BbG: Is she at least a good kisser? She might not like to watch. Did you ask her?
Mr TV Director: We only had a tiny kiss! It was mostly chat! And no, I didn't ask her that, but I wouldn't be surprised.
The whole idea has me too turned on! I’m sitting here rock hard. Perhaps if you were to drop by, I could give you something to write about.
BbG: Desperation doesn’t taste good.
Mr TV Director: Ha! I’m sure I taste ok…
BbG: I wouldn’t mind if Barbara was a prostitute and there was a bottle of champaign.
Mr TV Director: I can offer you a can of Guinness?
BbG: What about the whore?
Mr TV Director: And just where am I going to get her? We could go for a browse in the pub…
BbG: You are a director! You should be able to get ANYTHING.
Mr TV Director: I suppose I could ask my other Polish friend, Katarina!
BbG: Does she sell her body?
Mr TV Director: Does money HAVE to be involved??
BbG: Mmm. I just want someone professional.
Mr TV Director: I have never slept with Kat, she might not even reply, but she is VERY experienced!
BbG: When is this orgy planned for?
Mr TV Director: I don’t know! Shall I text Kat?? You might not fancy her but she is sexy.
BbG: Sexy is good. But I can’t tonight. I have a dance class. Ask her when she wants it.
Mr TV Director: Ok, I’ll ask! God knows what she’ll say. And if the dance gets your endorphins going… I’m staying in tonight.

X

Last night I caught my X on masturbating. Yes, we still live together. Because I cook really well, that's what he says.

My student neighbours decided to have an xbox karaoke session at 1.30am. I woke up and dragged myself out of bed to tell X to either go and speak to them (which I was sure he wouldn't do as he's not a confrontational type whatsoever) or in the old fashion way, bang on the ceiling (we still divide household responsibilities, and 'disturbances' fall under his umbrella, although he's never actually resolved any).

We haven't yet got into habit of knocking on each other's doors, so I just walked into his room, where I found him in compromising position. To try to minimise the embarrassment I still managed to ask him to deal with the neighbours, but had to make it short, and run to my bedroom to have a laugh!

Funnily enough, he spent all evening looking through Plenty of Fish … I had a glance over his shoulder, and noticed that girls there use much more daring pictures than 'ladies' on Soulmates. Hmm.

Dating
This week I have an invite to the East End gallery from Gunter, South African artist, and I'm exchanging e-mails with a very cute and tall (hurray) teacher, Ben from Greenwich. I will see how these will develop and possibly agree to dates with both, not at the same time of course. Although that could be a lot of fun.

Spooky James [Mr Monkey Media] has been e-mailing me since our last meeting, and surely the next mail will include a date invitation, but I still haven't decided if I should see him again because of the bear toy, anal sex stories, etc.

La dolce vita!