Another sexual anecdote....

Dear Diary,

So, continuing with my never-ending and oh-so-experienced (*snort*) repetoire of sexal anecdotes (well, how else would I make my blog interesting? Hehe), the next one was something ridiculous that lowered, debased, and shamed me. Yes, I once again had a one-night stand - but it gets worse - he was THIRTY-FUCKING-SIX YEARS OLD.I'll start at the beginning. A while ago I returned to the much-beloved Canal Street where Sam (on of my new friends from Pride) was having a party for her birthday - downstairs in Taurus. The photos on the walls were wicked and there was a free champagne reception. I had 4 glasses, and eventually, a headache. So, I started talking to people, eventually landing on Mike. We talked about all manner of things, ranging from bisexuality to Top Gear, to men and my outfit (which was a grey thigh-length polo-neck jumper/dress) - which he claimed "could be lower-cut but showed off my great arse" (Great? What the HELL was he drinking?!) By now I assumed he was straight, especially after he bought me 2 drinks and came outside with me every time I wanted some air (I blame that infernally boiling dress). By the end of the night, he very bluntly came out with "Are you coming home with me then?" Where do I FIND these people?! My reply was that normally I would, but sadly he asked during the wrong week (if you catch my drift. And I think you do). He started telling me how he was married to a ballerina for 9 years, and he knew a lot of tricks - especially how to stave off an unruly period with a hot bath. At this point I checked for a wedding ring (he wasn't wearing one) and then eventually agreed to go back with him. I am a complete twat, I know. I would never normally do that, what the hell was I THINKING??! I tell you what I WASN'T thinking: "No no no, don't do this, he's 15 years older than you and it's your time of the month and you haven't shaved any area of your body that SHOULD be shaved for WEEKS!!" What I WAS thinking was: "Sex sex sexy sex, sexy champagne-fuelled sex, he loves my arse, sexy sex sex". I am such a cretin.

Anyway, we set off (him frequently walking behind me so he could watch my bum) and eventually hailed a black cab to Levenshulme. I don't even want to THINK about the cost of that..... When we arrived at his, he discovered he'd lost all his keys, so after trying to wake up his flatmate, had to break into his (yes, he owned it) house via the front lounge window - while I sat and typed my obligatory "If I end up dead or missing and someone finds this phone, I am Katrina and I came home with (*INSERT NAME*) who lives at (*INSERT ADDRESS*)" text into the Drafts section of my phone. Eventually we got in, and was immediately confronted by Lucy, the resident cat, who, rather alarmingly, had a Clockwork Orange eye. I'm not even joking, one eye was outlined by a rim of black. Creepy.
Anyway, we stumbled upstairs, heard "Mark"'s (who CLEARLY didn't hear us knocking and yelling at the door for about 8 hours) TV announcing the snooker. Mike, however, snookered me completely by turning round the second we got in his room, and stripped his clothes off in under 20 seconds flat. And then stood there looking at me, like; "Well?" I, by now, felt highly aware of the fact that I most likely couldn't have sex, but he shrugged and actually ran me a hot bath. Apparently raising your body temperature that high can stop, or at least lighten, your period for a few hours. Hmmm.... Anyway, I tried to get in the bath while he constantly kissed me (which got fucking annoying after a while, as he was really rough and graceless) and refused to give me any privacy. I'm sorry, but letting someone see my fucking PAD is a level of personal I am frankly not prepared to stoop to. No wonder I felt sick. Anyway, I got in the bath, and he joined me - as did Lucy incidentally, who, out of nowhere, leaped up onto the side of the bath, scaring the shit out of me and glaring at me with her Clockwork Orange eye. Mike soon decided to leave me to it, stopping only to wipe my make-up off with the bath water and to frequently point out "Awwwww, you're just a BABY!" while gazing at my face. Jesus. 21?! Hardly pre-pubescent, is it?! But I digress.....

Back in his bedroom, things weren't great. Well, for me, anyway. I got the impression he hadn't had it in a while, as he was a really rough handler - not ABUSIVE or anything, but just incredibly forceful and not at all gentle. While Aaron could turn my legs to jelly with gentle licks and nips along my lips, and David could have me shaking with a few well-placed neck kisses, Mike was just grabbing, hair-pulling, etc.. etc... It really hurt after a while, and it was honestly no fun saying "Ow! Ow! Ow!" anytime he did anything. And I haven't even got ON to the sex yet! Having established that yes, it would be possible to shag mid..... cycle, there was then the worrying task of

A) How big he was (7 inches, easy)
B) The fact that he was pierced where men should not be pierced - which had me concerned about lacerations and the like.

Anyway, we soon got down to it - with Radio 2 on in the background, which made me inexplicably think of Russell Brand. Well, it hurt like all hell, and even worse, I think the condom came off when I thought he was re-adjustifying himself, as I don't recall seeing it afterwards. Bugger. He continuously repeated his "You're just a BAAAAAAAAABY!" line everytime I said "Ow" - because of COURSE a common signifier of age is one's reaction to pain, isn't it?! Dick-lunch. Anyway, I eventually fell asleep, even though he kept pawing me and trying to touch me, despite the fact that I put my knickers back on and declared No Entry anymore that night. He said my knickers were really ugly (It's my fucking time of the month, what did he EXPECT??!) and I should just take them off. Yeah, I'm sure he'd have felt the same way after I'd bled all over his duvet. Cock-rag.
Woke up early (as I deliberately set my alarm so) the next morning, and he immediately attempted to mount me. Squash me, more like. I refused entry once again, and instead, brought him off by hand. Twice. In 15 minutes. He clearly hasn't had his oats in some time, methinks.... I felt very strange afterwards though, as we were just lying in each other's arms, when, out of NOWHERE, I started thinking about the time I lay with David in a similar position, across his chest with his arms around me. Then I shut my eyes and started imagining I was actually there, in that situation, with him. And I felt two very different things:

a) Incredibly, powerfully turned on
b) Like crying

Strange combination, I know. Anyway, soon decided to leave, after turning the HOUSE upside down trying to find my tights, which had completely disappeared - and involved quite humilating moment where I had to ask his flatmates/tennants if they had seen them. Which they hadn't. (Maybe Lucy ate them with a glass of milk, whilst listening to Beethoven) So had to pay £20 in a taxi and went home looking like a bare-legged slag. Good times.

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