Anyway, there were two parts to the fulfilment of my blog-poll challenge, so here is the second part… apologies in advance if it seems a bit rushed, as I am seriously pressed for time at the moment. But as with the last part, please send me an e-mail if you want me to expand on any particular element for you.

Challenge part 2...

The second part of the challenge was, of course, to have the word “Slut” written on my ankle for 3 days, which was the period Saturday through to Monday – we took a one day break in between the two parts of the challenge, so Friday was a day off. There was no real reason for this other than the fact that Sat-Mon just worked better schedule-wise and gave better opportunities.

Similarly to the first part of the challenge, we again went with the process of printing the word out in a nice fancy font and using that as a template to carefully trace and copy it onto my ankle, to make sure it looked decent, as it’s pretty hard to write on somebody’s ankle in a neat freehand way, and being in marker pen, it is a one shot deal to get it right, and it was important to me (and us) that it looked good and could be mistaken for a real tattoo, at least at a passing glance.

So we were done, with it written on my right ankle – I think I was favouring my right side for this challenge, it must be what I consider my “good side” lol. But in seriousness, I do favour my right side, I almost always cross my right leg over my left leg etc, so it was the obvious choice to lead this challenge with my right thigh and my right ankle.

Day One

Day One was of course Saturday, and with no solid plans it was a day to just go out and do things, and see what happened. It started out with us catching a train into the city centre to do a bit of shopping, where I wore a smart grey above the knee dress, with some natural coloured stockings, with dark-red coloured high heels.

The train ride provided the first real opportunities to flash my tattooed ankle around as I sat in an aisle seat with my legs crossed and slightly into the aisle. A few people looked at my foot, and a few people had a double-glance, and I’m pretty sure I got a stare or too, but its tough to say what anybody really saw. Oh to be able to climb into the minds of others sometimes.

The shopping trip was the fun part, as we went shoe shopping – purely in the interest of the poll challenge of course! I hate shoe shopping normally! Lol. We must have gone into 7 or 8 shoe shops and I tried on two or three pairs of shoes in each. And there’s nothing like trying on shoes to bring attention to your feet. But you can never have a solid fool-proof plan for things like this – as much as you can go in there with the intention to get as much male attention as possible, it’s tough in reality. In a women’s shoe shop, or the women’s section of any shoe shop, how many men are actually around? 99% of staff are women, and the other 1% are often gay men! Any men who are in the shop generally aren’t in there alone, so to get their attention when they are with their wives or girlfriends is a struggle.

But some may say that made it all the more interesting, as showing off my tattooed ankle to several female staff members and fellow shoppers made it all that tiny bit more demeaning, I was going to say humiliating, but that may have been too strong of a word.

I came away from my shopping trip with a solitary new pair of shoes though – a pair of purple suede open-toed 4” heels.

And the Saturday finished with a girls night out with several of my friends. As I said in my previous blog, the plan was to do one significant event in each section of the challenge bare-legged to give the best and fullest effect to my temporary on-skin art-work, and this was the occasion for this.

So off I went with some of my girl-friends, wearing a short black halter neck dress and some killer black heels and not a whole lot else. Of course, my friends noticed my ankle tattoo, it would be ridiculous of me to think they wouldn’t. I got a bit of ribbing for it, but they know me well enough that even if they don’t know the full details of my secret submissive life, they know I’m a fun-loving gal who is up for a naughty joke, so they took it as that.

For most of the night the ankle went un-noticed – you know how it is, busy, dark places, you don’t see people’s feet! But it did spark a few chat-up lines (some very cheesy) when we were sat down at bars etc during the quieter moments of the evening. I enjoy the attention, but I’m out with the girls, and the girls stick together, so other than a few dances and the acceptance of a few drinks, unfortunately everybody got declined politely.

I’d love to go into much more detail about my Saturday girls night out, but even trying to think about the nights events makes my head hurt! Lol.

Day Two

Day Two was then of course Sunday, which was a full day at college for me, much to my behest as I woke up – if you can call me rolling out of bed and crawling into the shower barely opening my eyes waking up lol – with a hideous hangover, all bleary eyed and considerably worse for wear.

I’m generally far too over-dressed for college on most occasions, and despite the way I was feeling really not belying a day of sexy dress up, I dressed up anyway. My outfit for this day was a smart knee length black skirt with tan stockings and black heels.

It was generally a quiet day as college often is on Sundays. Many late arrivals too, which is another thing that is often the case on Sundays. I was sat near the front as usual – being the super swat that I am! Lol. I’m joking, I have to wear my glasses at college due to struggling to read the projector et al, so sitting near the front is just common sense for not straining my pretty brown eyes too much! :-)

I’d love to say I noticed loads of people checking out my ankle, but to be honest, the combination of not really seeing too much of what’s behind me, along with the hangover that meant it took all of my energy just to focus on the lecture and the work I had to do, meant that I can’t say I really noticed anything specific.

My cross-legged sitting with my right foot raised and toward the centre of the room surely meant that everybody had ample opportunity though, and that is what really matters.

Day Three

Day Three was Monday, the final day of the challenge, and was my one day at the office as part of the second part of the challenge.

I wore black stockings for the office, just because it made the “tattoo” a little more discreet, which was important for the professional work environment, as I said in part 1 about the thigh tattoo in the office. And again, like I said in part 1, against what I actually wanted to do, once again I found myself hiding my foot away under my desk far too often and I really had to put the effort in to not hiding my ankle away.

I’m glad to say that it was discreet enough to not have to worry about it too much though, although it could be seen through my sheer stockings, it wasn’t too “in your face” obvious, and my heels had ankle straps that just threw another small obstacle in the way. I know what many of you are thinking – “what’s the fun in that?” lol. But look at it from a different point of view – I want people to have to work a little to get a good view of it, I don’t want to give away cheap thrills for nothing, especially in the office environment.

And it’s fun watching people work for it.

One particular guy, who works in the office directly next to our office, came to my desk three times during the day. Nothing too unusual about that statement on it’s own, but he rarely comes to my desk as he never has any real need to. But he certainly created some reasons on this day – none of which were very good reasons I must add. The first time was to ask me about a piece of work that was nothing to do with me, he obviously thought it was my work so came to ask a random, basic question about it as an excuse to come to my desk. Epic fail, as I sent him on to the correct person! Lol. The second time was a more generic query that he normally would have asked somebody else (ie the person who actually prepares the accounts for his department, which isn’t me). Again, it didn’t give him much time in my company as it was a very short query. A couple of other times he walked past and looked at me as if he was racking his brains to think up reasons to stop by, but he had nothing. So I threw him a bone later in the day by getting one of my study text books out and putting it on my desk - I was planning on doing a bit of studying after work before I went home - making sure he saw what the subject text on the front of the book said. Because he is head of the department in the business that my study text relates to! Just so it all makes sense to you! lol. I wondered if he was going to take the opportunity I’d nicely presented to him, but he did toward the very end of the day when the office was quieter after the early starters had left (we have flexible office hours where you can start between 8 and 10, and leave accordingly between 4 and 6). He came over to chat about what I was studying, and he even dropped his pen on the floor next to me, which is what sealed the theory in my head that he has actually caught some glimpses of my ankle and was trying to get a closer look. I didn’t move it out of his vision either and let him look. Nothing was said, but I think we both felt we had accomplished our missions – mine to show off, and his to confirm the glimpses of an inappropriate ankle tattoo weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Of course, not everybody in my office is that discreet and un-forward about things like that, so of course there was the one guy who saw it and let me know he had. Quietly of course, not blaring it out over the entire office! Lol ;-p

As always, please e-mail me if you want to chat or ask any questions. Or try and catch me on Yahoo Messenger. blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk

So instead of pencilling in potential dates like we had been doing, we got out the permanent pen and inked two set 3 day periods into the diary, Tuesday 13th March to Thursday 15th March, and Saturday 17th March to Monday 19th March. There’s no turning back now!

These dates would give even billing to both halves of the poll-challenge, giving each one only one day at the office (as I had a couple of mid-week days booked off as the end of the holiday year approaches and I try to get my last few available days in), plus two other free days that give varied opportunities to plan other things and also just see what comes up naturally.

Challenge part 1...

First up was Tuesday to Thursday, where I’d be having the word “slut” written on my upper thigh. Let another argument commence about exactly what position and how high on my thigh I should have it written. The specifics of the option in the poll was “around or above stocking top level”. It ended up an inch or two lower than where I had initially envisioned it, but it worked well and was still very much on the upper thigh, and still very much around stocking top level – just more at stocking top level rather than above, as we decided that showing thigh above stocking top is a treat unto itself and didn’t require the added incentive of seeing an inappropriate temporary tattoo. Plus, the tattoo had more chance of being seen if I could just sit around showing stockings and stocking tops rather than having to show more.

It actually ended up being a bit bigger than what I originally envisioned as well, as after spending absolutely ages with us writing the word “Slut” out about 100 times on pieces of paper in our fanciest and most swirly and calligraphic handwriting styles, and not having much luck in getting anything that didn’t look like it was written in wax crayon by a 3 year old! So, we then decided to type it up on the computer, find a font and size we were happy with, print it out, and then use that as, basically, a template to transfer it onto my thigh – my right thigh, if anybody is interested in the detail! But it printed a bit bigger than we thought it would, and we couldn’t be bothered to change it after all that work, so it was nearly two inches tall at it’s largest point, which is a pretty big “tattoo” of that nature.

So let’s get on with it...

Day One

Day One was Tuesday, and it was a work-packed day, with both a day at the office, and an evening at my bar job on the agenda.

The main points of my outfit for the day was a short skirt, and some sheer black stockings that had the stocking tops sat very high on my thighs. This enabled my “tattoo” to sit just below the dark band at the top of my stockings, which made it more interesting as I could sit cross-legged without really showing anything untoward, just stocking-encased thigh, and have a very good chance of having the tattoo fairly clearly displayed through the sheer material of the stockings, but hidden and distorted enough to not make it too obvious. Of course, as willing as I am to “slut it up” at work, it is still my work-place and they are still the people who pay my wages and enable me to live my life without resorting to sleeping in the gutters, so it is a fine line that I have to walk.

It felt quite strange overall, as generally in these situations I do my best to attempt to show as much leg as possible, as often as possible, and to as many people as possible. But I found myself shying away from the attention a little bit on this occasion – firmly planting my lower half under the desk more often than usual, and spending more time adjusting my skirt or holding my hand over my thigh. I could see myself doing it, and I was really having to force myself not to.

But it was a pretty good day overall, a few guys got a decent look at my thigh and really tried to read what was written – potentially thinking it was part of my stocking design rather than something written on my actual leg – but I didn’t make it to easy for them, I wanted them to work for it a little bit. Nobody commented, but that wouldn’t be unusual, often these types of thing go unsaid even when people did see, sometimes nothing will ever get said, other times it may be weeks or months before something gets mentioned in jest.

My evening at my bar job was pretty uneventful, being behind the bar most of the night, and not having much opportunity to “tease”. But I tried my best when crouching down near people to pick up things that I accidentally, or perhaps not so accidentally, dropped on the floor. And I think 2 or 3 people got a short glimpse at my “tattoo”.

Day Two

Day Two was Wednesday, and it was a nice leisurely day off from work for me, so not much to do. There were some planned activities, but many didn’t work out, as is often the case with these things. So waiting around scantily clad for the carpet cleaning guy(s) to arrive went awry when they cancelled the day before. The joke is on them though – the rescheduled visit is for when J is at home rather than me, and he’s not quite so easy on the eyes! Lol. Bad luck, guys! ;-p

Of course, I did get some things done, as I headed out in the morning to get a work-out in at the gym. Wednesday evening’s boxercise class is my usual mid-week gym routine, but with other evening plans in place, I was skipping it this week in favour of a more traditional work-out in the morning. This was another reason for the positioning of the “tattoo” on my thigh, as if it had been placed higher it would have been obscured from view completely by my gym shorts, whereas in it’s actual position, it was at the perfect height of right at the bottom of my shorts leg; not completely exposed, but not completely covered, and showing more as my shorts ride up my legs. Unfortunately from the point of view of making this blog as exciting as possible, the gym was pretty sparsely populated. I also was in “the zone” of my work-out so not paying enough attention to who may be checking me out. But I did see several people (guys and girls) having a good look whilst I was on the treadmill, and also whilst I was on the rowing machine and the light weight machines. A couple of guys started up a conversation with me after spending 10-15 minutes watching me from several feet away, but an obvious show of the diamond on my ring finger gave them the hint to go away. I love being able to do that now! Lol

So overall, again, nobody came up to me and mentioned the fact that I had the word “slut” written on my thigh, but I know several people got a good look at it.

After an afternoon at home catching up on some mundane things, my day continued with an evening out – dinner with some friends (myself and J, and two other couples we know).

The evening’s outfit was a short, flowy “little black dress”, combined with some incredibly sexy black 6” heels, a white suspender belt holding up some ‘natural’ coloured stockings with a dark black seam running up the back of them. My “Slut” tattoo was at stocking top level, just sticking out above it at the highest point of the S, and was pleasantly very visible through my light coloured stockings. I knew the combination of those contrast seamed stockings, the impossibly high heels, and the floaty nature of my dress would draw the eyes of any red-blooded male, and probably everybody else male or female too for that matter, to my legs, which would make the flashing of my written-on thigh all the better.

The thing with some of our friends is that we have a completely different relationship with the guys when they’re alone than we do with the couples when they’re together. So with the wives there, I had to be on my best behaviour so as not to get the guys into trouble with their other halves! At different points in the early part of the night I gave each of the guys a good flash of my thigh though – the first one when we were sat at the bar waiting for our table, when he was stood to my right as I was perched on a high bar stool chatting to him as J chatted to our other male companion, and the two girls chatted amongst themselves too. A couple of passers-by did a double take too – whether that was because of the stockings, the heels, the dress, or the “tattoo” though is for only them to truly know. And our young waitress stumbled her words too, as she noticed the black lettering on my thigh when she came along to get us and escort us to our now available table.

The second guy got his first good flash of my thigh once we sat down at the table, as the two girls sat next to each other on the round table, their partners sat next to them, leaving two seats left for myself and J. I sat in the seat that had J to my left and guy number 2 on my right, which enabled me to give him a decent look at my thigh as I crossed my legs, sitting just enough away from the table that my thighs weren’t under the table.

We got a male waiter for the actual meal ordering, and I think he got a decent look a few times too. And when the other two girls went to the ladies room and I chose not to go with them, I showed the two guys my temporary tattoo more closely, and the four of us (J included) had a little conversation about it. It was the first conversation I’d had with a third party about it during the two days up to that point. They both thought it was pretty hot, and agreed that there was no chance that their wives would do anything like that. I asked them if they’d like them to. They said there were lots of things that I do that they’d like their wives to do! I’m sure that in reality that’s an exaggeration though – as great as I sometimes may appear to be (lol), it takes a very un-jealous, secure in themselves, guy to really be able to live with me!

Overall it was a fun night though, and I was able to watch people’s reactions much closer, whilst also giving more opportunities to see the temporary tattoo, so it was good.

Day Three

Day Three was Thursday, which was another day off for me, and it was far too quiet of a day. Other than a trip to the supermarket, filling my car up with fuel, and going out for a 3 mile run, I was in most of the day doing various chores and other tedious things that have to be done.

But there was a Work Night Out in the evening to prepare for as well. Just a few drinks and a quick bite to eat after work (well for those who were at work that day anyway!) with my office colleagues.

I promised that I’d go bare-legged for one significant part of a day in both parts of this poll challenge so my temporary tattoo’s wouldn’t be obstructed from view by anything, and this, the culmination of the first part of the challenge was the time to go bare-legged. So a short dress with heels is what I wore out, with no stockings.

I actually really enjoy my evenings out with my colleagues, they all generally get me, at least the ones that are fun enough to come out on these nights anyway! And without things getting too raucous or racy, several of us work on the basis that what happens on work nights out stays on work nights out – or in basic terms, it all gets forgotten about when we’re back in the professional setting of the office. Sometimes it even gets forgotten about completely because of the excessive alcoholic beverages partaken in! lol. Maybe I’m upselling my work nights out a little too much here. It’s not full of debauchery, but sometimes the dancing can get a little “dirty”, hands may wander, a bit too much flesh can be shown, and on the very rare drunken occasion you may even get a passionate kiss in a corner somewhere. And that’s just my antics! Lol.

Anyway, I’m digressing again – how unlike me! Lol

It was a fun night out though with the drinks flowing freely – our managers are always willing to put their hands in their pockets and get a round of drinks in. My dress was long enough to keep my slut tattoo under wraps unless I wanted to reveal it, and I made sure I flashed it a few times to a select few colleagues and also to some strangers as well for that matter. And again a very deliberate flash to one particular open minded colleague did instigate another private conversation in hushed tones that somehow turned into some very dirty flirting talk.

I could talk about various things in this blog in much more detail, but I’m conscious of a lack of time and this blog getting too long, so I’m going to end this instalment here.

I do however just want to apologise for the delay in getting this blog out, as I did promise it a month ago. I’ve been caught up in some very busy weeks over the past month, which kept pushing this blog back and back. But I wanted to get it out before I went on a weeks holiday, so with less than 12 hours to go before I board my plane, I’ve just about managed it, even if I had to cut the blog in half to do it!

Part 2 of the poll challenge blog will be posted the week after next (w/c 23rd April), when I’m back from my holidays.

Please e-mail me any questions you have though, as I know I haven’t covered all the nuances that I could or should have in this blog entry. Some reactions left out, some of my feelings about various things left out – but I’ll happily answer any and all individual queries and questions. :-) blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk

Voting has now closed!

I want to start out by saying a big thank-you to all who voted on the re-launch of my blog-poll. The turn out was huge with over 185 votes, which was way more than the 50 or so that I was hoping for. :-)

This poll has had many drawbacks, but I hope to turn these negatives into points to learn from in the future.

Obviously I spoke before about how it was clear to see that somebody had placed 30+ votes for one option in a short space of time, which severely altered the results, as the winning option has only got around 50 votes, so you can see how much of an impact that would have. On a side note – thanks to the gentleman who e-mailed me and owned up to doing this, your honesty is much appreciated! :-). However, it’s unclear to see if there were other issues with any other options, although nothing jumps out, perhaps a couple of people placing 5 or 6 votes wouldn’t stand out by itself, but could still impact the result significantly. So, I honestly can’t stand by the results of this poll being true and genuine, which is unfortunate.

But alas, we will move on, and I’ve already implemented the disabling of multiple voting to the above issues happening again. I was happy with the time-length of the poll – around the 3 week mark does get maximum exposure whilst not keeping it running too long. And another idea I’ve been pondering is to either shorten the options you have, or eliminate the least popular as we go along. For example, you had 8 choices on this one, which could be seen as too many, it would have been great to have had a evenly fought fight between 3 or 4 instead, as it would have been interesting to take the votes that were placed for the bottom 3 or 4 (some may call these ‘pointless votes’, like voting for the Green Party in the General Election etc lol) and see where those votes would have been placed out of the top three or four options. The alternate would have been to start with the 8 options, but then at the end of week 1, drop the two lowest scores, and then at the end of week 2, drop the next two lowest scores, and people can come back and revise their vote if their option has been eliminated early. I may look at implementing this for future polls. I hope to post another 2 polls this year at least, ideas permitting. Feedback for improvements is always appreciated.

Onto the results...

The Question was...
For one week in March, I’m going to have the word “slut” written on my body in marker pen, and you get to choose where I have it written. After the challenge is over, I will write a blog about the week, talking about what I had to do to disguise it, who may have seen it, reactions by people, and how I felt etc.

The winners are...

1st – on my thigh at stocking top level – 30% (56 votes)

2nd – on the outside of my ankle – 27% (50 votes)

With the revised rules I posted, these two are the joint winners, and will get 3 days each.

Other results...

3rd – on my breast – 27% (50 votes) – I know, technically joint 2nd, but I over-ruled it as it was artificially high!

4th – on the inside of my wrist – 8% (14 votes)

5th – on my lower back – 3% (6 votes)

6th – on my lower thigh – 3% (5 votes)

7th – on the back of my neck – 2% (4 votes)

These results (or similar results, as I removed the impact of the votes for the joke “forehead” answer from the above), plus a fancy bar chart, can also be found on my blog-poll page until a new poll is posted in their place. (If it’s not up right now, it will be within a few hours, I just haven't updated the site yet!)

http://blogslut.bravehost.com/blogpoll.html

Am I happy with the results?

I’m pretty happy with the two winners. I couldn’t say my favourite before, but I think my favourite two were upper thigh and wrist. Upper thigh as I love any reason to flash some stocking tops and thigh! Lol. And wrist because it has the most possibilities in every-day life. Anything from general movements at work, to handing money over in shops and bars, and countless other ways where it will be potentially on display so easily, and it’s easy to forget it’s there as well, which offers a lot of ways it would have been seen before I’d even realised I needed to try and hide it. I was surprised it didn’t get more votes, but it obviously wasn’t too popular with you guys, and that’s fair enough, you’re in control!! Ankle has many possibilities too, and I’m glad that closed the gap on breast, which was the hardest to do anything with in ordinary life.

When will I be completing my challenge?

Within the next two weeks, I just need to work out the best schedule for it, to get the most out of it. My blog about what happened wouldn’t be much fun if I just said, “stayed at home for three days”, would it? Lol

What kind of things will I be doing whilst having ‘slut’ written on my thigh or ankle?

Lots of things, depending on when we think it will best fit in with my planned activities will depend on what outings they get. From my regular office day job, working at my bar job, going to the gym (in my short hot-pants style shorts), going to college on a weekend, I have a potential work night out coming up, a potential girls night out, I may try and squeeze in a dinner out for myself and J with some friends, maybe a shopping trip (trying on lots of shoes perhaps)... lots of possibilities. I just need to get the schedule right to get the best out of each one, as I want to do three consecutive days of each, so Sun-Tues with the one for example, and then Fri-Sun with the other. I don’t mind the break in the middle, but I don’t want to do thigh on Monday, ankle on Tuesday, thigh on Wednesday etc.

Do you have any say on what I do and wear whilst I do the challenge?

If you’re quick, then yes, get your suggestions in over the next 3-5 days and they’ll definitely be considered. Well, I’ll pass them onto J and he’ll tell me if there’s anything he specifically wants me to do or wear, or how to go about potentially flashing my “tattoo”, from your suggestions, or from his own perverted mind.

E-mail me (or us) on blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk – I read all e-mails sent here unless you write the word “Master” somewhere in the subject box, in which case it is for J’s eyes only. I would say if you actually want to be guaranteed a reply, don’t e-mail him! Lol. But if you just want to suggest something without me seeing it at all, then you can go with that route.

Of course you can also message us by filling in our contact form here:-

http://blogslut.bravehost.com/emailme.html

When will I blog the details of how it went?

As soon as possible upon full completion, so I’d probably say within about 3 weeks from now hopefully, definitely before the end of March anyway.

Take care and have fun everybody, and get those suggestions in quick if you have any.

Blogslut xx

It’s blog-poll time!!

Okay, since this is my first poll in God knows how long, I thought I’d keep the question quite simple.

I have some good ideas for some future polls, but I’m sure you guys have even better ideas, so send your ideas for poll questions to me (blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk), as I’d really love to hear them...

To start off by setting the scene; a few years ago I posted a fairly popular blog about “temporary tattoos” – having a naughty or obscene word written on my body in black marker pen. I got a bit of feedback about that blog from several people who really enjoyed that story, and enjoyed the idea of a sub having things written on her body in marker pen.

So for this challenge, I am going to do this again, and I’m going to have a naughty word written somewhere on my body for a whole week, and this blog poll lets you decide where I have this word written.

So to give the full blog question:-

For one week in March, I’m going to have the word “slut” written on my body in marker pen, and you get to choose where I have it written. After the challenge is over, I will write a blog about the week, talking about what I had to do to disguise it, who may have seen it, reactions by people, and how I felt etc.

Your choices are:-

1) on the inside of my wrist – perhaps to be attempted to be hidden by bracelets or by trying not to display my wrist to anybody. I won’t wear tops that completely cover it.

2) on the outside of my ankle – not much chance to hide this except with shoe straps and stockings etc.

3) on the back of my neck – to be hidden by my just past the shoulder length hair

4) on my lower back, just above skirt hemline, to potentially be seen if my skirt sits low and/or my top rides up.

5) on my thigh at around stocking top level – easy to hide, but the challenge is to give people the opportunity to potentially see it, so this one may encourage the wearing of shorter skirts and more stocking top flashes.

6) on my thigh at around skirt hemline level – my penchant for stockings and short skirts always brings people’s attention to my thighs, who may focus clearly enough to see the word written on my thigh?

7) on my breast, to potentially be seen to the eagle-eyed voyeur who tries to get a good look down my top, perhaps in low cut or loose fitting tops to enable an unobstructed glimpse to people.

Vote for your choice here:- http://blogslut.bravehost.com/blogpoll.html

Voting will close in early March, and voting results will be published at that point, and the challenge will be accepted and undertaken shortly after that.

And remember everybody, if you enjoy the thought of the interactive poll, and being able to, as a group, control something about me, then please vote, as I can only continue doing polls as long as the interest is there. You may not be interested in this specific poll, but support it anyway as I’m sure there’ll be other polls that you will love. Be it choosing a suitable punishment for me when I’ve been bad, or picking my outfit, deciding just how slutty I should be, or who I should be slutty around etc etc. There’s so much we can do with this poll, and as I said, your ideas and feedback are more than welcome! As well as running polls where you make the decisions, I’m also going to hopefully throw in some opinion based polls now and then where you can share your opinion on certain subjects.

I’ll be posting a regular blog in the next few days as well... I’m really spoiling you all so far in 2012!

This is another one of those topics that some of you may already know about, and others won’t.

I talk about my day-job – without going into excessive detail – quite a bit in my blog. But I don’t talk about my second job quite so much. But I do have a second job, one I do more for love than for money, although the little extra bit of cash does come in handy to support my ten years of accumulated credit card debt and my shopping addiction. ;-p

I work in a pub / bar two evenings a week, and every other Sunday. It’s not much, I generally work 4 hours on my evening shifts and 5-6 hours on my Sunday shift, so it’s only 8-14 hours per week on top of my 38 hour p/w day job. And it’s practically minimum wage, so I don’t earn much from it. Like I said, it’s more about love than money. I know it sounds strange to “love” a job as a barmaid/waitress, but it really fits in with my personality well. While the office job lets the intelligent numbers-geek side of me shine, the bar job lets my fun, bubbly flirty personality have its moment in the sun. I like meeting people, and an office job doesn’t give too much opportunity for that when you stare at the same 4 walls and the same dozen faces all day every day.

I especially love the shifts I do. From a financial point of view, most people want the busy nights, because firstly the rate of pay is slightly higher for Friday’s and Saturday’s, which I don’t work unless I have to, plus the tips can be higher as you’ll generally serve 3-4+ times more drinks on a Friday night, compared to a Tuesday night for example. I disagree with the tips theory overall though, as the Tuesday night crowd that I get won’t be as big, but they’re more likely to tip better as they generally aren’t the early 20-somethings out to get as much drink as possible for the few pounds in their pockets, it’s more 30-50+ aged more mature type people grabbing a bite to eat and a few glasses of wine in mid-week. Some of the other girls call Tuesday night “Dirty Old Man” night, because of the leary 40’s/50’s crowd who spend all evening hitting on you, as they get a bit over excited, ’escaping the old ball and chain at home for a few hours’ as they put it. But they’re harmless. The fact that nobody really like’s working that night is one of the reason’s why I got it when I started working there as they needed somebody to do that shift, and it was perfect for me as I just wanted a couple of quieter mid-week nights. So it’s more than fine by me to have to do the Tuesday, it’s my favourite night to work, and I’m more than happy to handle a few “dirty old men”! lol.

Like I said though, I don’t agree that you necessarily get more tips on the busier Friday and Saturday shifts... we generally pool our tips and they get divided up across everybody who worked that day. Anything you get given as a tip goes into the jar. And anybody who pays by card and chooses to add a tip at that point, that will get added on by management when they work it out too. But anyway, the average that each person takes home on Tuesday for example is about £10 if that, it’s been known to be as low as £2 or £3 per person, whereas you’re probably looking at £25 quite easily for the busier nights. So yes, the theory is right, but I think the lowest amount of tips that I’ve personally put in the jar on any of my shifts is £25, so I think that if we took our own tips home rather than pooling and splitting evenly, I’d come out better on my “crappy” shifts than many would on the busy shifts. The most tips I can remember putting in was £143 for a four and a half hour shift or so, and I only got given £25 tips for that night after it was divided up. The jar got pooled between 6 people that day, as it’s split between everybody on all shifts for that day, that means the tips total was about £150. If you like your numbers like I do, you’ll note that my share would have been 95% of that total, compared to the 16% of it I took home. I think everybody did very well out of me that night! I felt a bit aggrieved I must admit, as if everyone wanted to make good tips that night they should have barely worn the outfit that I did! Lol. Nobody knows who puts what in the jar though, unless you add up your own tips as you go along (like I usually do!).

That big tips day was back in February 2011, the day after Valentine’s Day, and the place was almost dead with only about 12-15 people max in at any point that I was there. But I was wearing an outfit that combined being very short with also being exceptionally low cut as my C-cup breasts spilled out of my top, and it mostly came from one group of 5 cheeky guys around their late 40’s who were there on their semi-regular Tuesday boys night out. I see them there a lot on Tuesday’s and we’ve built a friendly flirty relationship, I let them get away with lewd comments that many of the girls wouldn’t, and I’m often a bit of a tease around them, bending over unnecessarily a few too many times with a seductive smile and a twinkle in my eye. And I think they all appreciate having a fully grown-up woman waiting on them rather than the barely out of nappies 18 or 19 year old Uni students that is what a large chunk of the staff is made up of. LOL.

And forgetting the sultry slutiness, I do my standard job very well too. As long as it’s not too busy I’ll always go the extra mile and offer to bring their drinks to their table rather than have them collect them themselves, which is the standard process, but I do that for everybody, they’re not that special! And they usually tip well, compared to their actual bill, for the great friendly service I give them.

And on this particular evening, they were practically half the customers in the bar, and were pretty much there for my entire 4 hour shift, so I spent quite a bit of time chatting with them just to pass the time. There were two of us working the bar, and the five guys came in shortly after I got there, and headed straight for me and we greeted each other with big smiles and the usual small talk for a few minutes, it had been a good 5 or 6  weeks since I’d seen them last as I’d missed a few Tuesday shifts in the previous few weeks for various reasons and they came in on Tuesday every few weeks, so our paths just hadn’t crossed for a while. I took their order and I told them to go sit down and I’d bring them over. They went over to one of the bigger tables on the empty side of the bar – there were only 2 or 3 other tables occupied, but they were on the other side of the bar.

After that we just kind of waited for more people to arrive and for things to get busier, as it normally does as we get closer to 9pm, but with the exception of a few people coming in, which was offset by a few people leaving during the same time period, it never got busy. By this time, as I served people at the bar, to be nice I’d already been telling them that while things were so quiet, if they needed anything to just get my attention and I’d come over. Some took me up on the offer, others must have felt a bit weird waving across the room, so still walked up to the bar regardless.

Of course, my bunch of guys took me up on the offer, and were having a bit of fun with it. “Waitress” they’d jokingly call out to me when I was in earshot. They’d also use my name sometimes too, which they knew because they were regulars, plus it’s on my name-tag! And they started calling me over regularly for silly reasons, such as refilling their glasses – they were ordering bottles of wine rather than glasses, so one of them would have an empty glass while there was a half bottle of wine sat on their table; usually people just top themselves up! They wouldn’t even wait until they all had empty glasses, they started calling me over individually whenever any one of them had an empty glass. I was almost in a constant walk to or from their table for a while there! They were enjoying me sexily sauntering to and from them, with my heels clicking sexily against the floor. But I was quite thankful for the entertainment as well, as it was so quiet I was getting immensely bored, and I was in a flirty mood, so several times I stopped and chatted to them for a few minutes, even pulling up a chair to join them briefly a few times. Joining them for some innuendo interspersed chat and they were telling me about a wine-tasting event they were going to soon and were showing me how to taste wine properly, by sniffing it and swilling it around your mouth, which of course led to some “spits or swallows” jokes as I swirled wine around my mouth. I swallowed, of course! ;-p

As the night wore on, I was bringing their change back to them after they’d paid for another bottle of wine, and while I was leaning over the table giving them an eyeful of cleavage while I poured wine into a few of their glasses, one of them picked up a £10 note from his change and just slipped it right into my bra, which was slightly on display as they gazed down my top. I didn’t really know what to say, but they all laughed, and I joined in. I went back to the bar with that £10 note sticking out of my bra and put it in the tip jar.

After that it became a bit of an ongoing joke, they were all tipping me £5 and £10 notes, providing I let them stick the money directly into my bra! A few times they copped a little feel as they did so, and I’m sure a couple of times they pulled my bra away from my breast to create some room for their money and potentially got a glimpse of nipple for their troubles. At one point they handed me a £20 note and asked if I could change it for four £5’s. I went to the bar, got them four £5’s and came back, only for them to distribute them amongst themselves so they could each slip a £5 note into my bra.

Not the usual way to act in work really, but it was quiet, nobody else could really see what was going on because of where they were sat, slightly away from everybody else, and I was bored and in a bit of a flirty and naughty mood, so it was all a bit of harmless fun! :-)

And it all earned me £120 to add onto the £23 of tips I got from everybody else that night for being a friendly hostess providing exceptional service, which is how I earned my £143 of tips that night. And no, nobody got to put any coins into my bra! lol

By deduction, everybody else combined in that whole day made a grand total of £7, giving the tip jar £150 to be distributed between the 6 staff members that worked any of the shifts that Tuesday. I walked away with £25 as did all the others, and the other staff members that day earned a massive £24 extra each purely because I let 5 guys feel up my boobs!

Isn’t life unfair! Lol

Hi all,

Just a quick note to say that my mini website that was originally launched about 3 years ago, which will just offer some support tools for this blog, is back up and running, and available at the following link:-
http://blogslut.bravehost.com/

There's an updated “About Me” page, which I have called “The Girl Behind the Blog”. This isn’t very detailed at the moment, but I will probably freshen this up later. It does, however, contain full answers to the two questions that I get asked the most. “Do you do Messenger Chat?” and “Is your blog actually real?”.

Links to my blog are on there, and I will look to add a small section to this page to tell you when my blog was last updated, and perhaps have a half-paragraph teaser of my blog before you click through the links to read it in full. Maybe this page could be a hub for readers to bookmark, and go through to read my blogs.

There is also an e-mail form if you want to contact me – although I can be contacted via the normal means as well, by just e-mailing me at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk

And of course, there is my mailing list sign up. I urge all fans of my blog to sign up to this. You don’t get inundated with e-mails, all you get is, each time I write and post a new blog, you get an e-mail from me – add blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk to you safe-list if you sign up – with the subject “I’ve just updated my blog”. And the content of the e-mail will just be the title and a brief description of the blog I have posted, along with the links to the sites I post my blog at, so you can just click and read. I also give you a heads up as to whether the blog is safe work-time reading, or whether you might need 30 minutes of “alone-time” to read it! Hehe.

I’m looking at potentially adding a Q&A page in the coming months too, if I get some decent Q’s that need some decent A’s that others may want to read too. Obviously at this point I will move the 2 aforementioned Questions off my Profile page and onto this page, which will also free up some space on my profile page to add more to that.

And finally – the BLOG POLL! Remember when I started doing polls a couple of years back, where my readers got to have the final say on certain aspects of my life, such as what I should wear? Well, by popular demand, it’s coming back in late February, and I will hopefully keep it going this time around, interest permitting.

So stay tuned for that, a poll will be up around mid February time, but will only be up for two weeks maximum, so keep your eyes peeled for it so you don’t miss your chance to vote. Or even better, sign up to my above mentioned mailing list to make sure you don’t miss it!!

I also need ideas for future polls, so if you have any good or fun poll ideas, then get in touch!

I’m putting some extra effort into my blog in 2012 to freshen it up and keep it interesting, and more importantly, updated regularly, and I need all of your help to make that work pay off. Let’s continue to make this a great interactive experience for everybody!

My next blog is scheduled for the middle of next week – around 8th Feb (Wednesday). And the blog to launch the new poll will only be a week or so behind that where you’ll get the chance to be in control of something I will do toward the end of February.

But right now, it's been snowing outside for the past 3 hours, so I'm going to put my dog in her pretty pink coat (yes, I am THAT type of person lol), put on my wellington boots and most unsexy clothes and we're going to go and run around the snow covered park like a crazy lady and her equally crazy dog, because that really is... the girl behind the blog!

Hugs & Kisses

Blogslut xx

Myself and J have always had a very complicated relationship.

When we started dating over 5 years ago, we were just having a bit of fun. We always knew we had different long-term relationship goals, so from the early days we knew one day before too long we'd have to bite the bullet, break up and go our separate ways in search of relationships that did meet our personal long-term goals.

My long term relationship goals were always pretty simple, and pretty run of the mill – I want marriage, kids and a family etc. J on the other hand, he's done it all before and in his 50’s he wanted to enjoy the "after the kids have gone" years of his life and not be changing nappies into his 60's. So we started off knowing our situation. That’s always a good start, never go into anything completely blind.

Of course, I had just turned 24 when I met J, and I had a few years of "fooling around" to be done before I had to actually settle down and think more seriously about the long-term, so why not spend those years fooling around with him. We moved in together after a while to really get the most out of those years we would have together. Five years later, and now I’m 29. My “few years of fooling around” are coming to an end, if they haven’t already, and to think about starting a family in my early 30’s, I need to be thinking about being in the relationship in the very near future with the guy that will be my future husband and father of my children.

So I think myself and J are leaving it a bit late, don’t you think? We should have probably split a year or two ago if we wanted to make our original plan to work perfectly, but those type of decisions are very tough to make, very tough indeed.

But it doesn’t change the fact that if we broke up today, and it took me, for example, one full year to find Mr. Right, the perfect guy to spend the rest of my life with, I’d then be 30. If we were then together for 2 years before marriage entered the mix and another year before we started trying for a family, by the time the first little blogslut arrived in this world 9 months later, I would have already had my 34th birthday. A reasonable time to have your first child in this modern world, right?

But there is one issue to that – it revolves around myself and J breaking up today, or at least imminently. How do you go about that after 5 years, 5 very happy years at that? Do I just get home tonight and say, “Honey, we have to break up, so I can follow this fool-proof plan to find my perfect man and have children before I’m 35.”?

The longer we’ve stayed together, the less we’ve talked about the long-term future because it is so hard and so upsetting to stick to our original foolproof plan – at least it seemed foolproof 5 years ago anyway. How was it ever going to go wrong, he gets to have an extended fling with a sex-crazed bomb-shell 25+ years his junior, I get to spend a few years with a suave, sophisticated older gentleman who can help fulfil the submissive fantasies I’d been fighting with inside my head for years? A win-win situation, right? But the arch-nemesis of fool-proof plans reared it’s ugly head – the creature of pure evil and confusion – that crazy little thing called love!

Yes, it’s true, we fell in love.

Who fell first? Does it even matter? Of course it matters, it ruined our life-plans! We didn’t tell each other we loved each other until a year into our relationship, which is strange in itself, but we both knew it deep down, not only that we were in love with the other, but that the other loved us back. We just couldn’t say it, love wasn’t in our plans. We came close a few times, “I love... spending time with you, it’s great!” and so on. A mere few weeks into our relationship I was with my best friend talking about my new boyfriend. “I love this about him, I love that about him, I love the other about him” I was ranting. “So you love him?!” She said. “Of course not, don’t be silly, I barely know him” was my reply to that ridiculous statement of hers. But damn that bitch, she’s always right!

So I guess I fell first.

Unless you ask J the question, as he goes to great lengths telling people how he fell head over heels for me in our early chats at the bar we met in, that I worked in, before we’d even gone on our first date, when I first flashed him my... smile! Okay that’s the story for our very sensible friends. When I first flashed him my... stocking tops! Okay, that’s the real story for our not so sensible friends! Lol. Of course, typical guy confusing love and lust again! It was certainly lust for me at that point as well!

It was on our first anniversary, whilst we made love, that I cracked, with a single tear of happiness running down my cheek. My arms around his neck, my lips at his ear, I whispered to him “I love you so much.” He said it back to me with such a warm and tender smile, and as I fell asleep in his arms that night, I cried my little eyes out. I don’t think a day has gone by since where we both haven’t told the other that we love them.

But back to current day – we’ve been long overdue “the talk” for quite a while now. The talk that decides our future.

We still haven’t properly had it, I guess we’re still very nervous about it. But you know what, for years I’ve been dreading it, whereas now I know that it won’t be a bad talk at all. There’s only one question that needs to be asked... can we compromise?

We haven’t asked that specific question to each other yet, but we answered it in other words on Christmas morning of 2011.

He said, “Will you marry me?” I said “Yes!”

Christmas Time = Party Time!

And at last, if all that frivolous partying wasn’t enough, I still had one third and final Christmas Party to attend; my work’s Christmas Party on Friday 17th December (2010).

I must admit, I was still a little worse for wear after drinking a bit too much two days earlier at and after J’s office party. J was as well, and for once he was actually coming to my office Christmas Party. I’m pretty sure it was his first time in 5 years.

Because I was feeling a bit rough, and wasn’t planning on partying too hard, I opted for a classy sexy look rather than my often slutty sexy look. My long black strapless dress came down to past my knees – yes, blogslut in below knee dress shocker!

And we had a nice relaxed night out overall, I still partied hard and danced and flirted with everybody, but I didn’t get as crazy drunk as I had in previous years at the Office Christmas Party – much to the chagrin of a few of the guys I’m sure, who look forward to these nights out to get a little amorous with the office totty, and I’m normally the totty that lets their hands roam more than they should.

And just to roll the Christmas Party blog around full circle, as we’re now a year on from these stories, and therefore another round of parties has come and gone. Well, there’s not much to tell about the 2011 party scene. My office Christmas Party was turned into a no-go zone based on the fact that usually each department does their own thing. But this year, it was decided by the powers that be that in an act of solidarity between all the Finance Departments within our business, we’d do one big Finance Christmas bash. I’m fine with the premise, but having a Christmas Party half way across the country for a lot of us, as it was arranged for where the big office with two thirds of the Finance staff are based, and saying partners can’t come and hotel accommodation isn’t provided really takes the edge off. Very few people from other offices went, and it turned into a bit of a shambles as they basically had their usual office Christmas party, just with a bigger budget as they got the budget of the other departments on top of their own, while we got nothing.

As for J’s Christmas party this year, he was ill that week, so we only made a brief appearance for the meal before sneaking off early.

In fact, the girls night out with the teenage bar-maids from my second job at the bar was my best Christmas night out this year. There’s nothing like going out with some scantily clad 18 year old’s to make you feel old at 29. But I held my own and although the crowd was a bit young and raucous for me, we had a good time and danced the night away.

Stay tuned for some more tales from the life of your favourite blogslut in coming weeks and months. And in the meantime, please feel free to e-mail me your comments, questions or feedback at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk.

Christmas Time = Party Time!

So I left you at the point after my first of 3 Christmas parties in 2010. I know, that’s a year ago now, it has literally taken me that long to finish writing this blog

So my next Christmas Party was J’s work party on Wednesday 15th (Dec ’10) which was a very low-key affair in comparison, mainly because I wasn’t playing the role of Candy the Masseuse, the hired out slut for the night! Lol.

I wore the customary very short little black dress, along with black seamed stockings, and red lingerie and red high heels. J is quite particular about how I act at work functions of his, smart and sexy, teasing but demure, it’s okay to show a little too much, but I always must come across as classy and elegant, not like a cheap floozy – that’s saved for our private time! Lol

No fooling around with any of his work colleagues either, I’m strictly a one-man woman in front of the watching eyes of his work colleagues. A few of them do try to take a few liberties, as you’d expect at drunken office Christmas parties, and where I’m usually allowed, and encouraged, to not move the hand off my ass, and not to shy away from an approach for a kiss or a sneaky grope of my tits, on this occasion I was under a much stricter instruction to not let anybody get too frisky with me. They could look with their eyes, but not with their hands. So I was moving hands up that strayed too low, turning away from anybody who leant in to get a little overly amorous etc. But I was allowed to “accidentally” flash a little too much if I made sure it was subtle and that it always appeared to be accidental. J likes to observe what happens and what people’s reactions are.

So beyond that, the highlight of the actual evening was the fact that J wanted a live replay of what happened at the previous Christmas Party, so he got the under table blow-job that Dave got just 5 nights earlier. I must admit, the tables were a little tighter to fit under at this venue, but I managed it with only a slight concussion from hitting my head on the table. J made me hold his cum inside my mouth for a good 5 minutes afterwards though, as we moved and sat at another table to chat to a couple of people. Well, he chatted, I smiled a closed-mouth smile and nodded along before I was asked a direct question. I managed to get out a muffled “erm” and looked at J almost pleadingly, who mercifully squeezed my thigh, which was the signal that I could swallow. I swallowed in one big gulp, covering it by lifting my glass of wine to my mouth as I did so, and taking a sip just afterwards. And then I calmly answered the question.

When the evening was over, we left the party venue and as we got outside into the ice cold weather conditions, we were contemplating whether to walk the 10 minute walk to the hotel we were booked in to stay at, or whether to go to the taxi rank on the next street over. We decided to go for the lazy option and jump in a taxi so we began to walk around the corner. I was very tipsy to say the least and in that condition I’m very easily persuadable into doing pretty much anything. And J convinced me it was a great idea to give him a little outdoor strip tease in a little car park we passed on our walk. It was an outdoor car park but had the entrance barrier down and locked as it obviously was only used and manned during the weekday daytime, probably for city centre office workers to park, but it only had a 2ft metal bollard/barrier around it, so you could cut through it if you were walking to get off the main street and onto the back street on the other side. I actually cut through it for just that reason every time I go to the college I attend several weekends of the year as my college is down one of those back streets!

It was out of our way but we started cutting through anyway. It was quiet with only moderate lighting and as we got further away from the busier main street and further into the privacy of the partial darkness and closer to the small porta-cabin type of building that would provide a bit of cover – I was a few feet in front of J at this point and he was already carrying my small handbag – I took my jacket off and threw it back toward him. Next I hiked my dress up around my waist, and teased him with a wiggle of my ass in just my scarlet red thong, framed by the taut, high, stocking tops of my black seamed stockings. I slid my thong down my legs as we continued to walk, slipping them off and twirling them around my finger before I threw them back at J. We continued walking the last 10-15 metres of the car park, me still with my dress hiked up around my waist, before we reached some decent cover by the car park’s porta-cabin building and a couple of light weight trees right by a practically deserted back street that housed a row of office buildings. I pulled my dress back down with a sexy wiggle as I then got J to unzip it all the way down and I sexily slid it off and stepped out of it and handed it to J, who now was building up a collection of my clothes draped over his arm as I stood there minus my jacket, dress, and panties. Only my bra to lose now as I unhooked it and let it slide down my arms as I used my one arm to cover my boobs from his view. I held my red bra in the air with one hand as I kept my chest covered with the other hand, before moving that arm as well and threw that one in the air. I was stepped forward to J, draped my bra over his shoulder, stepped back, did a slow and sexy twirl and then stood there with my hands seductively on my hips awaiting him to tell me what he wanted me to do now.

It was then I realised just how friggin’ cold it was, as the ice cold air hit my naked body, standing there in nothing but black seamed stockings, black suspender belt, and red 5” heels.

It felt like I was stood there for minutes, but it was actually 3 or 4 seconds max, before J pulled me to him and gave me a lingering kiss as he draped my jacket back around me. I got my jacket back on – it was a bit shorter than my dress was so it just about covered my ass but left significant stocking top and a touch of bare thigh on display. I didn’t do it up, I just held it shut. J gave me back the rest of my clothes and I immediately went to hide them under my coat, but he stopped me and made me carry them all in one hand as I held my jacket shut with the other hand. He made sure my bright red bra and thong were on the outside and “on display” as we walked back around to the taxi rank. We passed a few people, I don’t know if they were paying attention to exactly what they saw, or what thoughts were going through their minds as they saw a clearly underdressed girl, stockings showing as she was wrapped in a jacket, and clearly holding a little black dress and red bra and panties in her hand.

I felt so slutty and naughty and so turned on.

We managed to jump in a taxi, the driver must have got a decent eye-ful as I lost grip on my jacket as I got in... okay, you know me too well, I let go of my jacket for a moment! ;-p. And we arrived at our hotel moments later and I felt like I was doing a slutty walk of shame up to our room as a few fleeting staff members and other guests heading to their rooms gave us glances that turned into full-blown stares!

The third and final part of this 3 part blog about December 2010's Christmas Parties will be posted very shortly...

Recently I was set a challenge by my loving other half, Master J. A sexy, daring challenge, relating to going shopping with a specific list of items to buy.

It’s a challenge not dis-similar to ones we’ve done before, but usually you get a list of various items to buy from various different stores, so the only difference with this one was that it was all from the one shop.

The location was a large branch of a leading UK supermarket chain. Not my local branch – one about a 15 minute drive from home, situated in a busy foot-traffic area.

The time frame was 6.30pm on a Friday evening – a time where the store is pretty busy with people popping in after work to do a bit of grocery shopping for the weekend, but generally a time where there are few children around, if any.

The outfit to complete the challenge in was a little short white summer dress and white strappy sandals with a 4” heel, and nothing underneath. If I wear underwear under this dress they can generally be seen through it, despite the dress not being see-through by design. I actually think you can see less through it without anything under it than you can when wearing underwear personally. But in good light, shadows and outlines can make it quite revealing, not to mention that length-wise, if I bend over or reach up high to a top shelf, I’m lucky if the dress covers me!

And the shopping list was this, to be picked up in this very specific but random order. Well I say random order, it was designed to maximise the time spent in store by walking from end to end then back again, with the items in my basket.

1) The sexiest, and skimpiest, lingerie set I am able to find.

2) A pair of fishnet stockings

3) The sluttiest looking pair of heels I can find.

4) A pack of candles.

5) A packet of condoms.

6) A bottle of flavoured lube.

7) A disposable vibrating cock ring (yes, you can buy them from supermarket chains! Lol)

8) A cucumber

9) Whipped Cream

10) A “to my boyfriend” birthday card.

So into the store I went, picked up a basket, and headed to the underwear section. To be honest, this store isn’t a La Senza or a Knickerbox, so the choices aren’t that wide, but I fulfilled my sub-plot to this part of the challenge by picking up several things and holding them up against myself to see how they may look, and gripping the bra’s around my breasts to see if they’d fit and how much they’d cover or how much support they’d give etc. Then when I’d found two suitably ‘inappropriate’ lingerie sets, I had to get a male opinion before I chose. It took a couple of minutes before I saw a guy walking down the main aisle past the section I was in, but when I found my prey I moved quickly, reaching out to touch his arm as I said in the sweetest voice I could muster, “excuse me, excuse me sir! I’m really sorry to trouble you, but I have a bit of a dilemma that I need a man’s opinion on!” He replied somewhat nervously, “erm, ok”. Telling him of my plight – I was trying to surprise my boyfriend on his birthday with some racy underwear, and I wasn’t sure which he’d prefer – I held up the two sets against myself and asked his opinion on which he’d most like to come home to find me wearing. He chose the black lacy chemise and thong combo ahead of the red and black bra and thong combo. “Thanks, you are an absolute star” I told him as I placed his chosen lingerie into my basket.

Next up was the hosiery aisle, where after some deliberation I chose the nicest pair of black fishnet hold-up stockings that they had, which was still a lower calibre of item than what I’d normally wear.

Onto item number 3, and I back-tracked past the lingerie to get to the shoe section. Again, this isn’t a shop I‘d normally go into to buy shoes; there’s nothing wrong with their shoes, but to find a good pair of nice looking sexy heels is a bit of a challenge. But I persisted, and followed the second sub-plot of my challenge by placing my basket containing my underwear and stockings on the bench, ensuring it was all positioned for maximum exposure to anybody passing. I tried on four pairs, bending provocatively as I fastened them, and generally flashing as much leg and anything else as I could when putting them on and taking them off (even though there was disappointingly too few people around in this section of the store to make it worthwhile). I walked up and down the shoe aisle in each of them, held my other purchases up against them to see if they went together, and finally decided on the sexiest looking pair I could find, which were fairly average in the bigger scheme of things, a red pair with an ankle strap and a heel that at a push was 4 inches. So into the basket they went.

And I move down my list – into the homewares aisle to get a pack of candles.

Then across the store to the pharmacy aisle, where I was to spend at least 5 minutes looking at items in the sex and contraception aisle, selecting the three items I needed. I carefully selected a packet of ribbed condoms after reading a few boxes to ensure I was getting the right kind, bending at the waist as I picked each packet up off the bottom shelf. Then I searched through the fun stuff for a bit, picking things up, looking at them, reading the packaging, I looked over the flavoured edible lubes and massage oils, even opening up a few of the bottles and putting a bit on my finger to taste them, before placing the durex vibrating cock ring and the flavoured lube that was on my shopping list into my basket. All this whilst people were walking past, buying toothpaste, aspirin’s, deodorants, and other run of the mill stuff!

Then with a basket full of stuff for a very fun evening, which personally I thought was enough for this challenge and would have made it perfectly adequate, I headed all the way from aisle 24 to aisle 2 to get item number 8. I think then final items on the list were just added for a bit of an extra embarrassment factor, as I picked up a cucumber from the salad section, whilst holding my basket of sexy non-food goods, getting a few passing second looks. Then across to the dairy section for some squirty whipped cream.

And finally, back across half the store to the greeting cards and stationery aisle, to make my “story” complete. A boyfriend birthday card – just to complete the tale of planning a special birthday treat evening for my beloved.

Can you imagine the looks I got from other shoppers and the cashier guy when I laid my ten items clearly and precisely on the conveyor belt, nothing hidden under something else or anything like that. Of course I wasn’t allowed to do self-checkout, even though I had 10 items or less as the sign above the self-serve express checkouts say.

The cashier served me with a big stifled grin. The lady in front of me did a huge double take of my inventory with a shocked open mouthed expression. The guys behind me were making rude and cheeky remarks to each other, about somebody having a fun evening planned etc, and as I paid and went to walk away, one of them said to me whilst holding back a laugh, “have a fun evening, love!” Ever calm and considered in these situations, I flashed a smile back and said “I will, don’t worry!” before walking away and out of the store, to J waiting in the car, at what seemed like the furthest away point of the car park possible, ready to inspect my shopping bag.

Hope you enjoyed, I can be contacted at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk if you want to chat to me. x

The Naughty 2010 Diaries Part 5 – November

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This is the fifth (and penultimate) part of a bit of a catch-up of the past 6 months, as I haven’t posted anything for ages. Starting from this month, a new monthly blog entry will be posted (probably in the first week or so of the following month), tentatively titled “The Naughty Diaries”, although I’ll change it if I think of a better name, which will either be a blog entry about a particular event during that month, or a summary of my month. This shouldn’t effect there being other random blogs throughout the months as well, this idea is just to encourage me to post at least once a month.

Six blogs will be posted in January to trial this idea, one each for the July-December 2010 months, before it’s officially launched on a more current basis for January 2011 onwards.

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“The One with the Threesome, and The Cold Snap begins”

November was a quiet month for me, in comparison to other months, mainly due to me getting seriously into study mode for my two exams in early December. But it did both start and end with a bit of a bang.

The month kicked off with the events I eluded to at the end of my retrospective September naughty diary entry, with the threesome between myself, J, and his brother S. I’d had a pretty stressful day at work, and made my way home feeling a real urge to jump on J as soon as I saw him to help relieve my stress the old-fashioned way. I walked into the house, not expecting anybody to be there; the plan being to shower, put on something skimpy, and await my man. But the house wasn’t empty as I walked in, I heard chatter coming from the lounge, and entered to find J in there with S. For a split second I was a little disappointed that I’d have to wait until later for my much needed fuck, until a thought occurred to me – S still owed me some attention from his big hard cock after leaving me so disappointed weeks earlier, and maybe tonight was the night I could get it.

“Hey boys”, I cheerily said as I walked into the room, hanging my coat up and putting my bag down on the side. I then greeted J with a long, deep kiss, practically straddling him on the chair to get to him, which is always my way of letting him know that I’m feeling a little bit frisky. I climbed off him after what was probably a 30-40 second passionate kiss, and went to walk into the kitchen, before turning back around half way, looking over at S and saying with a cheeky smile, “sorry, can’t have you feeling left out!” And I proceeded to straddle him on the sofa and give him pretty much the same deep, lingering kiss treatment that I’d just given to J.

Obviously by this point in time this wasn’t what you’d consider to be seriously strange occurrence, since the birthday incident in late September, we had of course become closer, and we’d become much more “touchy, feely” type of friends, even though we’d all only got together maybe 3 times since then so we hadn’t gone too far. But even so, and even though he’d received, including the birthday incident and the original “brotherly love” incident, a total of three blow jobs from me by now, I’d never kissed him so passionately before.

I dragged myself away eventually though, even though the very telling bulge that had begun to press between my legs really meant that I didn’t want to get up off his lap at all. I went upstairs and sent a quick text to J before I jumped in the shower. “Two sexy guys, and one VERY horny girl... don’t you go getting any ideas! ;-p” is what it read.

After a shower and changing into a very sexy and revealing baby-doll type nightdress, complete with stockings and heels of course, I headed downstairs and back into the lounge. J was sat in the arm-chair, with S on the sofa, so I sat next to S, actually really close to him, if I were any closer I’d have been on top of him. I then got up after a few minutes and sat on J’s lap and said to him, quiet enough so it seemed I was trying to be discreet, but loud enough so I knew S would still be able to hear, “honey, I’m really horny and I really need a hard fuck, I’m sure S wouldn’t mind if we slipped off for a few minutes...”

We were kind of ad-libbing a scene as we went along, we’re pretty good at reading each other so we know where to take it from the other’s reactions.

J told me, again quietly but loud enough, that I’d have to be patient and if I didn’t like those rules I’d have to go find another way to fix my problem. I got up, trying my best to look a little dejected, and went back to the sofa, next to S.

After a few minutes of fidgeting, I snuggled up a bit closer to him again, gently rubbed his chest through his shirt, and in a girlish voice complete with fluttering eyelashes and pout, I said to him, “Hey, your brother’s being mean and he won’t fuck me. You don’t happen to know anybody else who may be UP for it, do you?” I emphasised the “UP” by dropping my hand much lower than his chest, and grabbing something that certainly seemed to be UP for something!

He looked at J, as if to get permission, or to check it was okay, and J just said “Please. Just fuck her, or she’ll be whining all night!”.

And it began...

I jumped on him and kissed him furiously whilst unbuttoning his shirt, and once that was off I slid down him and unbuttoned his trousers and slipped them off him with his underwear, and his hard cock sprung up just inches from my face. A teasing blow-job ensued, which after a few minutes led to him lifting me up so I was straddling his lap again, and after slipping my thong to one side, he entered me for the first time. It felt great, and I looked over my shoulder at J with a satisfied smile on my face, and he took that as his cue to get up and slip his clothes off and come round to the side of me so I could suck his cock whilst I rode his brother.

I would give you a million more details – but the readers fantasy is all in the chase in my experience; I’ve set the scene, and I’m sure your minds can take this wherever you want to now!

We did have a fantastic time though, and they were both incredibly good with more stamina than you’d give either of them credit for. We had sex on the sofa, the chair, the floor, and they even laid me down on the coffee table and laid me from both ends. We even had a brief foray into double penetration as I was on top of S and J took my ass from behind.

A brilliant time was had by all, and it really was a huge ice-breaker for the relationship between the three of us, that had become a bit weird and tension filled over the previous several weeks.

So that was the start of November, and the next thing I want to talk about happened right at the very end of November, when an influx of cold weather and snow hit the UK. I got a good 8 inches in my garden – there was also about 2 inches of snow! Sorry, cheap and tawdry joke, I know.

Well many of you are probably unaware of my car troubles for the past year, which I won’t go into, but to cut a very long story short, I have been without a car of my own since February 2010 as I can’t afford insurance and petrol and everything else now, and it’s back to buses, trains, and trams for poor old me! :-(

I don’t mind it really, J drives me most places I want to go anyway, he even drives me to or from work when he can, but there’s lots of times where I have to get to or from work by myself too.

Which is where this story kicks in, it’s the end of November, J’s dropped me off at work, it’s started snowing pretty heavily during the day, our office barely had any windows at this time and the ones we do have are really high so you can’t see out of them anyway (we’ve since moved offices and we now have proper windows), so I’m completely unaware of how much snow has fallen for a while. And guess what, there’s a thick layer of snow developing on the floor, and I’m wearing a fairly short skirt and 4” fucking heels! I’d forgot to throw a change of clothes and in particular shoes or welly boots into a bag to bring with me. J’s 100 miles away and won’t be back in town until late that evening, so I’m pretty much stranded, I’ll never get home in this weather, in these shoes.

But I had a knight in shining armour that day, a male colleague offered to take me home, even though it was considerably out of his way. In fact it was about 10-15 miles in the opposite direction for him, but being polite he pretended he had to go in that general direction to try and convince me that I wasn’t putting him out. Although at this point, even through my false facade of saying, “oh, you don’t have to, I don’t want to make you go out of your way”, I was really thinking “I don’t mind if you have to go out of your way, PLEASE just get me home!” lol.

So he drove me home, I caught him glancing at my legs along the way, like I said, I had a fairly short skirt on, and earlier in the journey when I’d thanked him for being so nice, he replied with a smile, “well, you know me, I’ll do anything for a girl in a short skirt!”. People know that I’m not going to scream sexual harassment for comments like that, so they know they don’t have to be PC around me. But he got me home and I stretched over to him when we parked up and told him he was such a lifesaver and gave him a big hug. I went to kiss him on the cheek as I broke the hug, but somehow it ended up being more lips than cheek (I actually think he turned into it actually, the naughty guy!!). It was only for a second or so, and I apologised when I pulled away, saying, “how inappropriate of me”. But we laughed it off, and as I was about to get out of his car I jokingly said to him, “so how short does my skirt have to be tomorrow to get another lift home?”. I wasn’t really expecting a response really, it was a rhetorical joke really, but he quickly retorted “don’t know, you’ll have to wear something short and hope, won’t you?!”

We both laughed and we parted ways and I went inside and he left.

It was still snowing the next day, but I got to work okay on public transport, wearing jeans and my pink wellies and carrying my work attire and shoes in a bag. Just in case, I also threw in a much shorter skirt... you have to be prepared for when opportunities to be a bit naughty and overly flirty may come about, especially based on the conversation from the evening before.

As the day came to a close and most people started petering out of the office – I get in later than most on our flexi-time scheme, so I’m often one of the last to leave. And there was only three of us left, and as one guy popped out of the office for a few minutes, the guy who gave me a lift the day before asked if I wanted a lift home again. Usually with several people in the office my answer would have been a bit tamer, but as we were alone in the main office, I joked that I’d love one, but I didn’t think my skirt was quite short enough today! My skirt was only just above the knee on this occasion. “Probably not, but I’ll let you off just this once!”

About 15 or 20 minutes later when we were fast approaching the kind of time of the day where we were both just about ready to think about leaving, I went to the bathrooms with my bag and put on the shorter skirt that I’d brought with me. It was several inches shorter than my other skirt, stopping mid-thigh, showing lots of stocking clad legs. I came back to the office, and he didn’t even notice at first, but as we were just grabbing our coats to leave, it suddenly struck him. “Have you got changed?” he asked. “Yeah, well I didn’t want to disappoint and miss out on a ride home!” I responded with a cheeky smile.

Nothing’s happened with this whole situation if you were wondering. It was just a bit of a laugh, and is a bit of a private flirty joke between us. Sometimes now when I wear something short, he jokes about me trying to get a lift home. But he’s married and I wouldn’t come on to him in any serious way, it’s just my way of letting him know that I don’t mind him looking! Lol.

That’s all for now, I’m furiously working on my December entry, which is set to be a really good one. So that will hopefully be posted in a matter of days, which will allow me to write up my January one, and be all up to date and I can start making this blog entry a regular and current occurrence. But please bear with me, as I am quite busy with various things at the moment.

The Naughty Diaries 2010 - October

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This is the fourth part of a bit of a catch-up of the past 6 months, as I haven’t posted anything for ages. Starting from this month, a new monthly blog entry will be posted (probably in the first week or so of the following month), tentatively titled “The Naughty Diaries”, although I’ll change it if I think of a better name, which will either be a blog entry about a particular event during that month, or a summary of my month. This shouldn’t effect there being other random blogs throughout the months as well, this idea is just to encourage me to post at least once a month.

Six blogs will be posted in January to trial this idea, one each for the July-December 2010 months, before it’s officially launched on a more current basis for January 2011 onwards.

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“Mailman Delight, and the Work Conference”

For those of you that know, my birthday’s in October. For those of you that don’t – did you know that it’s my birthday in October?! lol

So this past October, I turned the ripe old age of 28, (everybody all together... Happy Birthday to MEEE, Happy Birthday to MEEE... lol).

And of course, birthdays mean presents. And of course presents, when you live miles away from many family members who may want to give you presents, means that our Mailman is a busy bee delivering parcels to me from all the people who love me soooo much!

(Note – in the UK we obviously use the term “postman” rather than “mailman”, but I thought that the term mailman may be a more internationally recognised phrase, which is why I will call our Postman the Mailman for the purposes of this blog entry.)

We’ve had a new mailman on our route for the past few months – our mail used to come pretty late, around lunch-time most days, but they must have changed the route or something when they put somebody new on, so everything’s delivered in a different order, and we now get it much earlier in the day, around 7a.m., which is obviously a good thing for us, as there’s usually somebody at home at that time, so we not only get our mail before we go to work, but we are at home to take in parcels, rather than suffering the inconvenience of collecting them from the sorting office at the weekend.

And whilst I’m sure the added convenience to us is the most important thing, the mailman gets his perks from it to.

You see, when I’m getting ready in the morning, J prefers that the last thing I do is actually get dressed, so for the most part, between the time I get up, and about 10 minutes before I leave the house, I’m usually in some sort of state of undress, maybe naked, maybe in just my lingerie, maybe seemingly ready to go out, with full make-up, jewellery and accessories, if it wasn’t for my lack of skirt and top. So when there’s a knock on the door at 7.30am at my house, the chances are you’re going to find a site a lot more appealing than an unkempt girl in an unflattering fluffy robe! ;-p

So the mailman certainly caught a few eyefuls of me wearing very little as I scurried to answer the door in the run-up to my birthday. Because let’s be honest, you know me a little bit by now, do you really think I go out of my way to cover myself up?! Lol

Frankly, the best I really did to cover myself up was to not open the door all the way! But even that doesn't really work when you have to take a parcel off him and sometimes even sign the form on his clipboard. He saw stockings, he saw bra, he saw my ass covered in nothing but a thong!

I think the best two examples was when I answered the door and stuck my head around, I was topless, only wearing stockings, thong, and heels. He gave me the parcel and told me I had to sign for it - still about 70% behind the door, I reached my one hand round the door to take the parcel, doing my best to stay behind the door, but I had to step out a little bit, so I had my other hand across my breasts so he wouldn't see too much – I have to pretend to be demure at least! After I took the parcel I had to step out from behind the door a little more to sign the sheet, so I just held the parcel to my chest (it was a padded envelope probably a little smaller than A3 size) to cover up. I was probably only a quarter hidden behind the door at this point. I took his clipboard, signed the form, gave it back to him with a smile and a big thank you, and closed the door with him standing there, eyes wide and mouth slightly open! lol.

The other good example was another parcel that had to be signed for, but this one was a fairly big box. Luckily I was a little more dressed this time, as I had on stockings, bra, thong, and heels, as well as a white shirt with just one button done up on the front, and it only came down to just about cover the bottom of my ass. I obviously had to open the door a fair bit wider to take the box off him and get it through the door. So the door was wide open as I took the box, turned around and put it down a couple of feet behind me. Bending at the waist of course (don't worry, it wasn't a heavy box, so don't call the health and safety police on me!! lol), so the shirt rode up really high and revealed my thong covered ass to him. I then had to walk back to the door, and sign his piece of paper. God knows what I would have done if I'd been wearing the previous outfit (or lack of) when this parcel came. He really would have got a show then. Or maybe I'd have had to have asked him to bring it in while I hid behind the door or something!

Anyway, ever since that the mailman seems to be knocking on the door a good few mornings each week to hand over the mail in person, even if it's just a solitary letter that could easily be posted through the letterbox. It reminds me of that scene in Charlie’s Angels where Cameron Diaz always answers the door to the mailman in her underwear and then says something like "you know you can just shove it in my slot!" or something like that! lol.

But I'm sure he's just a conscientious worker, and doesn't have any ulterior motives! lol

I also had a work conference in October. A 2 day getaway at a posh hotel for all the finance workers in the business - about 50/60 or so based at 5 locations around the country. Got to finally see a lot of the people I spend all day at work flirting with on the phone! lol. I really am known as a bit of a flirty phone floozy at work! So that was fun.

I obviously did try and dress a little fun and sexy, as I always do when I get the opportuinity, especially when meeting new people. A line of some sorts has to be drawn in certain circumstances though, as usually I do go a little extra slutty when I'm away from home and away from the normal four walls of home or office, but obviously, this was work, it was during the day so I was even getting paid to be there. Plus the day dress-code was smart-casual. The worst possible dress-code ever - what exactly is smart casual, nobody knows!! lol

But my daytime "smart-casual" outfit was an off-the-shoulder casual red top, it's not what you'd call low-cut, but although it's tight enough to be quite form fitting, it's equally loose enough at the neckline to see right down the front when bending down etc. A black skirt that was form fitting again, quite long for me at just past the knee, but with one hell of a split up the front of the right leg that goes right to the top of my thigh. I wanted to make a sexy first impression to some of the work colleagues I hadn't met in person, so I decided to wear a pair of black striped fishnet stockings - just black fishnets with almost seam-like black lines going down them all the way around. The split in my skirt came to just below the welt of the stocking when standing, so I revealed a bit of stocking top when sitting. Underneath all that I had on some very sexy lingerie, it was an item I call my slutty secretary lingerie, which J particular loves. It's cupless, so doesn't cover my breasts at all, it has a black with white pinstripe bodice that is almost corset-like, which leads into a thong style bottom half. It also has suspender/garter straps to attach to the stockings (although they're not massively helpful to be completely honest when worn with proper stockings - but my stockings were hold-ups, so it worked fine connecting it to them, as they only needed a slight bit of help to stay up, which is all they got!!).

Finished off with a pair of black 4" heel slingback shoes.

I really do wonder sometimes why I even bother wearing some of the underwear I have. I mean, seriously, it didn't really cover anything that traditional underwear is designed to cover. But, I do like the slutty underwear, which was especially great with the top I had on, as you could see the bra straps because the top was off-the-shoulder. But then you look at my chest and you think "those boobs are clearly quite free under there". There's definitely a bit of bounce that bra's traditionally don't allow, and some of the air-con's in that hotel gave a couple of extra ‘pointers’ that I may have been braless, if you know what I mean! Lol. So I just find it amusing watching people's brains tick away trying to work out why it kind of seems like I'm not wearing a bra, but they can see bra straps, so I must be. Men can get very confused very easily! lol

So I had fun with that all day.

The evening meal, with fake-casino and drinks etc was a smart but not too smart occasion. Like trousers and shirt but no tie kind of dress-code for men. What that means for women is anybody's guess though - you guys really have it easy with dress-codes!

So for the "smart" evening, I wore a "little black dress". Nothing too smart, it was even quite high necked for me, but was very short that more than made up for it. Black stockings with a black suspender belt, and black 5" heels. I actually didn't wear anything else underneath it - I was trying to pack light when I packed the previous evening, so my choice was my hair straighteners or a second set of underwear - I stand by my choice! lol

It was a fun time though, as the evening progressed everybody became fairly drunk (including myself), despite the warnings we’d been given prior to the day that we should be on our best behaviour as we were representing the company, and when the hotel closed the bar a little after 11pm, a large group of us all headed over to a bar across the road, where we stayed until gone 3am. We danced a bit, and even had a mess around on the stripper-like pole that was in the bar for some reason. I have to say that I did very well in my drunk and under-dressed state to be quite elegant in my little foray with the pole, and not flash the whole world everything I had to offer! Not saying I didn’t flash ANYTHING, I’m just saying I didn’t flash EVERYTHING! ;-p

Then about 5 or 6 of us went back to one of the rooms and drank and chatted a bit more, with what ends up when you’re this drunk as very thinly veiled flirting and sexual innuendo, until we finally all found our way back to our rooms at close to 5am. I’ll be honest with you, I had 2 very concrete offers to not go back to my own room that night. But I politely declined both offers.

It’s my own fault I get propositioned really. I’m too much of a floozy! Lol. When on a night out like this, I don’t really mind friends or colleagues getting a bit of a grope or a feel, and sometimes there’s even a bit of sexy grinding going on whilst dancing – especially if I feel an impressive bulge pushing toward me. Get me drunk enough, or get me under some mistletoe at Christmas and a bit of a full-on kiss isn’t always out of the question either.

But anyway, after hitting the sack at gone 5am, it was up at 8 for breakfast, out of the hotel for a little after 9, and back into the office for 10.30 for a hard days work! lol. A lot of tired (or hungover) little faces in the office that day. Some of the bosses "worked from home", but the rest of us don't have that luxury! lol

The Naughty Diaries 2010 - September

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This is the third part of a bit of a catch-up of the past 6 months, as I haven’t posted anything for ages. Starting from this month, a new monthly blog entry will be posted (probably in the first week or so of the following month), tentatively titled “The Naughty Diaries”, although I’ll change it if I think of a better name, which will either be a blog entry about a particular event during that month, or a summary of my month. This shouldn’t effect there being other random blogs throughout the months as well, this idea is just to encourage me to post at least once a month.

Six blogs will be posted in January to trial this idea, one each for the July-December 2010 months, before it’s officially launched on a more current basis for January 2011 onwards.

=============================================

“The full circle of Brotherly Love”

Going way back, probably 18+ months ago, you may remember my blog called "brotherly love" which described a little adventure I had with J's brother - the blow job in the kitchen when I was pretending I thought he was J.

Well his brother, “S”, actually felt quite guilty over that incident for a while after, so eventually J had to let him in on the big secret of our relationship – ie the D/s aspect – and also that the incident he felt guilty about was a challenge, and a set-up, so he shouldn’t worry about it.

We generally get by with the majority of world being blissfully unaware of the finer workings of our relationship, even many of those who we’d consider to be closest to us. And J and his brother haven't always been that close in the past and have lived a fair distance apart at various points of their lives and have been part of the kind of family that just saw each other a few times a year etc, which partly explains why he didn't know of that aspect of J's lifestyle previously, not just with me, but with previous partners. Also the fact that J was married in a mainly non D/s relationship for a big chunk of his life also helped him get away with S thinking he was a pretty normal guy. They’ve become much closer in the past few years as they’ve ended up living about 30 minutes from each other after S got divorced – J was divorced several years previously – and they both suddenly found themselves living the middle aged bachelor lifestyle not too far from each other. So they seemingly rediscovered the bond that they once had and became as thick as thieves like they had been in their teens. There’s only a little over a year age gap between them, so as teens they were very close, it was just in adult life that they drifted apart.

But anyway, after being let in on the “big secret”, S seemed quite intrigued by the workings of the relationship and often quizzed J about it when they got together and when I wasn’t around, and like I said, they’d reformed the close relationship that they’d lost, so did regularly get together for drinks, to watch football, play some cards, or whatever the case may be. He never spoke directly to me about it, but J certainly didn’t hide our relationship in front of him. This led J into treating me as if we were alone whenever S was there, including wearing the clothes, or lack of clothes, around the house that J gets me to wear when we’re alone, and even being nude, gagged, and tied to the dining room table whilst they were in the other room watching the football on TV, both occasionally walking in and passing me to get beers from the fridge etc. Although that was actually a punishment for me being disrespectful and disobedient earlier that week, which isn’t a story for right now.

We never discussed it directly, but I kind of knew J wanted to involve his brother in some of our new experimenting activities, but was unsure exactly how to broach the subject. Secretly I really wanted it to, I felt really comfortable with S – his similarities to J in many ways wasn’t lost on me.

But all this led to our birthday gift to him back in September being, well, to put it simply... me!

He had a posh dinner function to go to, and no date as the friend he was going with cancelled, so the gift was, I'd go to the function with him, but not only that, from the time I arrived at his house that evening, to the middle of the afternoon of the following day, I was his to do with as he pleased. It was J’s idea, he told me of the plan the day before we revealed it to S, which was the day before his birthday, and a few days before his function.

We used his spare key to go into his house, and we put a big empty bottomless cardboard box covered in wrapping paper in his living room. I stripped to a slutty lingerie set with a big novelty gift bow pinned to the bra, and climbed into the box via the open bottom and knelt down. S was due home very soon and J called him to tell him not to open the big gift box in his living room until he got there, and left, to return shortly after S arrived home.

After about 10 minutes, S arrived home, he inspected the box closely, but true to his promise, made no attempt to open it. It was at least 15 minutes later that J arrived, and after several minutes of chat, so I’d been in the box for over half an hour, he told S he could open his present. He ripped the paper from the top and opened up the box, as he did, I stood up, revealing myself as the gift, much to the shock and amazement of S. I had a note in my mouth, and after a small prompt from J, S took the note and read it.

It wished him a happy birthday, and informed him that his gift was that I was completely his from 4pm that Saturday afternoon when J would drop me off at his house, to 3pm on the Sunday afternoon when J would come to collect me.

It was an incredibly horny concept, as slutty as it makes me come across, for the 3 days notice I had about it, I'd gotten really into the idea and was ready and willing to really get lost in the moment and go with it. S wasn’t quite as comfortable with the situation though, unfortunately. I arrived at his house, I was overly provocative, flirty, and touchy-feely as I got ready for the evening out, and once my hair was done and my make-up applied, I walked into his room naked and perched on the edge of his bed. I’d brought a selection of outfits and I was waiting for him to choose one for me. I really had to coax him into doing so and he wouldn’t even let me model the outfits for him to help him choose, but finally he chose a simple black underwear set, black stockings, and probably the least slutty black dress I’d brought, a long elegant number with only a touch of cleavage on show, and just a reasonable thigh-high split.

We headed off to the gala dinner, and in the taxi ride to the venue I was doing my best to flirt, and giving my best “come to bed eyes” look, while rubbing his leg and giving him every trick in my book to get some sexual attention from him. But by the time we arrived, he’d completely chickened out, and introduced me as his brothers partner, and just a friend, so there was no slutty behaviour at the dinner or afterwards, as after that it would have looked completely inappropriate. He really ruined my fun to be honest, I was looking forward to teasing him up into a frenzy until he couldn’t take any more and would rip my dress off and take me roughly. He was very uncomfortable with the situation all evening, and we ended up making the best of a friendly night out, getting to know each other better with general chit-chat.

But the following day after a night of sleep alone in his guest bedroom, and a very late morning wake-up after the late night, I did manage to convince him - well I practically begged him actually - to at least let me finish the blow job I'd started so many months earlier. I don’t remember the last time I had to work so hard to convince a guy to let me suck his cock – actually, I can, it was NEVER. I gave him my big sad eyes, and told him how disappointed J would be that he hadn’t liked his special birthday present that we’d arranged for him. You could almost see the little angel and devil sitting on his shoulders, arguing, but eventually the devil just about won, and he agreed, letting me sink to my knees in front of him, wearing only a very sexy, see through red negligee. He was already incredibly hard, his body certainly wanted this, even if his brain had been fighting the urge. He loosened up quite a bit, really getting into it, before cumming hard in my mouth and over my face after about 5 minutes. And I can't help but feel if I'd started out the night before with that, the whole night could have been completely different, as he got used to the idea that it wasn't such a wrong thing to be doing, we were all consenting adults, and nothing was that unnatural.

Nothing else really happened for the last couple of hours we had left that day, as we both just got ready for me to head home. But he was certainly less uncomfortable with things, as he watched me intently as I walked around barely dressed (instead of doing anything but look at me), and I made up any minor excuse to have to touch him, or lean over him, or just be in close proximity to him. I may have imagined it, but I’m fairly sure he ran his hand over my ass a couple of times too, although it was very subtle. And he even returned my lingering kiss when we said goodbye, and this time there was nothing subtle about his hand on my ass!

It was a disappointing experience compared to what it could have been, but I knew at that point, and discussed with J on the car journey home, that it was a stepping stone to something better, and some walls had definitely been broken down by the experience, so we would have to see where it would go in the future.

If you were thinking of asking the question, "has more happened since?", then I will answer it and confirm it's a big YES!

It took quite a few weeks, and lots more build up, and knocking down of walls to get to this point, but it was worth the effort a million times over. People don't have too many "WOW" experiences in their life, but I can honestly say the first time was a big one for me. Imagine having your partner, the person you love completely and find the most desirable person in the world, then taking a practical carbon copy of them (as J and his brother are so similar), and getting them both at the same time in an ultimate three-some. I mean, WOW, it certainly did it for me, straight to the top of the list of my best sexual experiences ever!

Thankfully it wasn’t a one off, and J has pretty much given S a “free pass” with me since then as well. Anytime, anywhere, all he has to do is give me the word and I’m there; ready, willing, and able! Nobody else has that luxury with me (except J of course), and nobody else probably ever will.

Keep those eyes peeled folks – three more posts to come before January is through! And as always, please e-mail me with feedback, comments, or just to chat. blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk. I'm also taking suggestions for a better name for this ongoing series of blogs if anybody has any ideas. :-)

The Naughty Diaries 2010 - July

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This is the first part of a bit of a catch-up of the past 6 months, as I haven’t posted anything for ages. Starting from this month, a new monthly blog entry will be posted (probably in the first week or so of the following month), tentatively titled “The Naughty Diaries”, although I’ll change it if I think of a better name, which will either be a blog entry about a particular event during that month, or a summary of my month. This shouldn’t effect there being other random blogs throughout the months as well, this idea is just to encourage me to post at least once a month.

Six blogs will be posted in January to trial this idea, one each for the July-December 2010 months, before it’s officially launched on a more current basis for January 2011 onwards.

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The Office Temp

We had a temp in the office for a few weeks back in the summer. I like having temps in, as it gives me a chance to be a bit more flirtatious, and let’s be honest, I get to be downright more slutty, knowing that a few weeks later, he’ll be gone and the harmony of the office won’t be upset.

Don’t get me wrong, I flirt with everybody at work to some degree, whether it be the cleaner or the finance director. But there has to be limits, as you see these people everyday and have a professional relationship with them first and foremost. We all have jobs to do, and we get paid to do them, so we all need to make sure that runs smoothly for the long-term. No uncomfortable moments, and the sexual tension has to be kept in check.

So that’s why I love temps. They come in, stay for a week or a month, or whatever it may be, and off they go when their job is done, and you never see them again. So it’s easy to start a bit of a flirty relationship, let it build up, and then by the time it reaches the boil and it gets to the point where it may start to affect the actual work, they leave and everything’s okay.

I’m sure a lot of you know what I mean. Especially the guys, when a young female temp comes into the workplace that makes you swear temp is short for temptress. J once told me a story of a place he used to work at in years gone by that had regular temps in, and the boss who hired the temps had a penchant for pretty young girls, and I guess he must have had some sort of under-the-table gentleman’s agreement with the temp agency who sent the girls over to make sure the girls that came in fitted the specific criteria – you know, early 20’s, attractive, good figure, preferably single etc. So several times a year a new pretty young thing would arrive to work for a few weeks, and a bunch of the guys in the office would have a bet about who could get her into bed first, and they’d spend the time she was there each trying to win that bet.

And with the type of office I work in as my day-job, we generally have guys in as temps as it can be considered a male driven field, and they’re generally fully qualified accountants, so are usually between 30 and 60. Often 40+ or even 50+ to be honest, the type of people who have worked hard and made decent money, and have decided to cut back and do temp work as they’re hourly or daily rate is high (even higher than it would normally be if they weren’t a temp), so they can work maybe 6 months out of the year and easily make enough money to live a very comfortable life.

I tell you something, in ten years time I’ll certainly consider doing it! Basically half the work for at least three quarters of the pay!! Only really works if the pay for that particular job/career field is high enough, which for me, right now, it of course isn’t, but after the long arduous study and exams are finished, and enough of the relevant experience has been gained, then hopefully it will be. But I’m digressing a little and moving away from the subject of the blog.

So in came the temp, and I was surprised to find out he was a little younger than the last few we’ve had in over the past few years. Early 30’s, and not too hard on the eyes either.

I often spend a bit of time with the temps when they come in, as I’m apparently a very good and very patient “teacher” who explains things well, and my all-round knowledge base of what we do in the office is of a high standard, so a lot of the things we bring people in to do are things I can do, and probably would do if I had the time, but I’m always busy with other things, so never get a full month or whatever it takes to fully get to grips with the complicated and time consuming nature of some of the things that need to be done.

But anyway, I’m digressing again, back on topic...

I got along with this years temp like a house on fire, there was a real spark there right from the start, and we began to flirt quite heavily. He was there for about 6 weeks, and for the first week or two I was probably sat with him going through things and explaining things for a decent chunk of our time at work, so I got to know him better than most in the office did, and he certainly wasn’t very good at hiding his furtive glances at my legs or cleavage as we sat together. But of course, it can be hard to outright flirt in an office filled with 10+ people or so, but the odd e-mail back and forth, which started out professionally in the initial few days, started to become a bit more suggestive, but obviously not overly explicit over the work e-mail system.

Then one afternoon a few weeks in, I got a random one word e-mail that simply said “Red”. I sent a confused response asking what he was talking about. To which he replied with a single line:- “I was guessing the colour of your underwear. I’m right aren’t I?” I couldn’t deny it, he was right. But it was hardly a lucky guess on his end really, the strap of my bra was visible at various points that day, and I’m not one to wear non-matching underwear usually, although it has been known occasionally. By saying “underwear”, I am referring to panties, just to clarify, we didn’t discuss the finer points of what he was guessing the colour of, it was pretty much implied.

And a new daily game was born. Each day, at some point I’d get an e-mail from him simply stating a colour. And I’d tell him if he was right or wrong. And it may be followed by a discussion about how he’d made his guess, or how he’d found out. He was right every day – often it was my bra that gave it away, it was too easy to show a glimpse of bra strap or bra trim, or even to be able to tell the colour through my top. The braless days were trickier for him, but I didn’t realise how often I must flash a hint of panties, either above the waistband of my skirt or trousers, or even an upskirt flash. Maybe a few times were just lucky guesses too.

I also tried to throw him off the trail a few times, with J’s help from home, once with a strapless bra, and once with a pink bra and panties set, but the bra had black straps and black lace trim, which I made sure were visible. I failed both of those times, he guessed right. But I wasn’t giving up, I became determined to win his little game one way or another (so did J when we talked at home), so the third attempt to fool him was a success. I did the rare thing for me of not wearing a matching bra and panties. Not just not matching, not even just slightly different colours, but a complete contrast. A sexy red push up bra, with a pair of green thong panties. I wore something sexy and low cut to show off the great cleavage the bra gave me, and frankly everyone standing within a mile radius could probably clearly tell I was wearing a red bra. But my modest skirt, only a couple of inches above the knee, with only an uncharacteristic medium split up the back, made telling the colour of my panties impossible. You couldn’t see through it, you couldn’t see above it, and you even couldn’t see up it, which I was extra careful about that day. To be honest, I’m not usually that careful, but this day I really was.

Later that day, an e-mail came through. “Are you trying to trick me today?” I responded jokingly, “Would I do that!?”. It took a while for him to make his guess that day, and it really was a guess that day. It was nearing 4 o’clock when he came to sit next to me at my desk to go over some work. On the front of the pile of paper he put on my desk was a post it note with “Red?” written on it. It was certainly a hopeful question rather than a statement. A huge smile must have broke out on my face, I was absolutely ecstatic to have won the game that day, and he must have seen it, as the look on his face showed that he knew he was wrong. We started to discuss and work on what we were doing, and whilst we talked about what was up on my computer screen, pretending to be talking about the work, he asked the question “so is my assumption on this part wrong?” He gave me a look, I knew what he was asking and it caught me by surprise that he wanted to discuss it out loud in the office, even if it was in “code”. But I went with it, thinking on my feet. “Yes, that assumption is wrong.” I said. And then clicking on some random cells on the spreadsheet on my screen, I continued our coded conversation, “This bit you’ve put in ‘red’ here is wrong, I’ll just highlight it ‘green’, so you know to change it.” It shocked me a little bit that he pushed the conversation further. “So the other column that’s  highlighted green here, (points to screen although there was no green there), is there anyway to prove that this is right?”

I was a little lost for words to be honest, I think I even blushed a bit, “erm, erm, yes, I guess we can prove it’s correct” I almost stuttered out. “Do you want to show me that now, or do you want to do that later?” he immediately responded with a cheeky grin on his face. “Erm, we’ll come back to that later, if that’s okay. We’ll just do this bit first” I again stuttered in response. We then actually got on with the work we were doing, everyone else in the office unaware of what the conversation we just had was actually about.

We left the office at the same time that evening, shortly after 5pm, and as we walked through the car-park outside the building, he jokingly mentioned his “proof”. I gave him a giggly smile, reached into my coat pocket, pulled something out, and threw it towards him. He caught it – it was my green thong. I immediately said “see you tomorrow” and we went our separate ways for the evening. I glanced back fleetingly as I walked away to see him staring at me almost dumbfounded.

To be continued...

This chapter takes us to the last several weeks of my first year at Uni. The most unique and life changing year of my life.

So once again, back to the stocking challenge, as we still have one pair – and one hole – remaining. ;-p

We did the third part of the challenge in private; we were heading to the outskirts of town, just the two of us, for a dinner date followed by an overnight stay in a hotel. It was the first time (and only time) we’d ever spend the whole night together. His wife was visiting family, so he didn’t have to get back home or anything.

I’d let Tom pack my clothes for me, I’d packed everything else, (as you just can’t leave all the important things up to a man can you?), and I left him alone in my room for five minutes to pick my outfit and pack it in my bag. So when we arrived at the hotel and were getting ready to go out to dinner, I opened my bag and there were no clothes in there, not even any shoes. I was confused. That is until he pulled a bag out of his case, which I thought was a pretty big case for an overnight stay – he’d bought me a brand new dress and a brand new pair of shoes. How sweet of him!

I opened up the gift box and it was a little black dress, with the emphasis on LITTLE! It was a mini dress with a plunging open neck line down to the naval, it plunged the same at the back as well, leaving my whole back exposed. And the shoes – they were stunning, patent red leather with a bow on, they had an ankle strap and an incredibly high heel. Upon measuring the heel they were 5 inches. That’s a full inch higher than anything I’d ever worn before.

We had some time to kill before our dinner reservation, so I thought I’d tease Tom a little before dinner. I sat him down and put some music on, and I stripped out of my current clothes and dressed in the new outfit, all whilst sexily dancing right in front of him.

Once dressed, I realised just how revealing the outfit was, the hemline only just covered the tops of the fully fashioned black seamed stockings that Tom had also got for me previously. As soon as I sat down, the dress rode up to reveal my entire stocking top and a touch of thigh. I had no underwear on, and the top half of the dress was perhaps even more revealing than the bottom half. Being quite a loose fitting dress, the entire sides of my breasts were exposed; looking from the right sideways angle you could easily see my nipples. And one wrong sudden movement and I knew my tits would be fully exposed to anybody who cared to look in my direction. A dress made to be worn with tit-tape, and Tom certainly didn’t think about packing that now, did he?!!

I told him straight – “There’s no way I can wear this! I just can’t!”

But I’m always the one to get talked into things just by a couple of compliments, and he told me I was the sexiest little slut in the world. I’d gotten used to the word slut by this time; it no longer caused me to gush with embarrassment. And that every pair of eyes tonight would be on me, and that is exactly the way things were supposed to be when it came to a gorgeous girl like me. He got his way, I wore the dress out, and every pair of eyes WERE on me, and I absolutely loved the attention, and it got me so hot just sitting there at our table, seeing the glances over at me, especially as guys tried to look without their other halves who were with them noticing.

Another first came for me during that dinner. Tom told me to flash my pussy to the guy sitting behind him, who was directly facing me, a mere 10 feet away. I looked at him shocked, but then I smiled, I was joining in the fun of the game now, if you can’t beat them, join them!

I bent down to adjust the strap on my shoe, and as I sat back up, I ensured I caught the guy’s eye. My left breast had fallen out of my dress, so he immediately saw that anyway and I already had his full attention, but as I covered that back up, I let my legs part more than they should, and I let my dress ride up high, and my pussy was on display to him for a second as I locked eye contact and gave him a seductive smile.

The worst thing happened later in the night though, that same guy came over to our table to ask about maybe “joining us”. I really couldn’t look him in the eye then. I turned my head away from him and hid it slightly behind my hand, so embarrassed, and wanting the table to swallow me up. “Oh my God, what is happening?” I thought to myself. Tom very calmly spoke to him though. “I’m very sorry, my partner just likes teasing, she doesn’t go any further!” he said. “But please enjoy the view” he added. I couldn’t believe how calmly he could talk to the man, as if it was a regular every day occurrence. The gentleman looked at me, smiled, and said something that I can’t remember as I wasn’t paying attention over my embarrassment, I smiled nervously back, and he walked back to his table.

At the end of our meal and after a bottle or two of wine, we retreated to our room for our anal encounter. I wasn’t a complete anal virgin and I don’t consider anal sex to be “wrong” in any way, so I wasn’t worried about it too much, my feelings were very much more in the excitement column. But I was still nervous – despite not being an anal virgin, I also wasn’t a pro. The handful of times when I’d tried anal sex weren’t always the most successful of experiences, and at this point I’d probably have to say that I hadn’t properly had anal sex.

So, back in our room for what would end up being our one and only full night together, we set about having a sex filled memorable night. I gave Tom another strip-tease – and I told you my outfit already, so you must know it lasted about 4 seconds! Lol. I then continued moving around to the music to strip him out of his clothes, and began a succulent blow job before he stopped me and lay me down on the bed and licked and kissed me from head to toe before giving me a very well received oral treat.

Shortly after this we started on the anal-play, as he produced in immense amount of lube, and a several sex toys. After pouring lube on my ass he slipped a finger inside me, nice and gently, getting lots of lube inside me, before increasing his insertions to 2 fingers. It was fairly comfortable at this point, as he was being very gentle, and I was “opening up” so to speak. So we moved on to a small toy, and he slipped that in and out without too many problems. It hurt a little, but nothing unbearable and it quickly subsided, as it was only thin and maybe 4-5 inches in length. He managed to get that all the way inside me, and it was a promising sign that it wouldn’t be very long at all now before I could accommodate his full length and girth.

A little more lube later, and we’d switched to a slightly larger toy, a butt-plug type of toy with a bit more girth to it. I could see where I’d gone wrong on my previous anal sex attempts, I certainly didn’t spend this amount of time preparing myself and making sure I was fully able to take what I needed to take.

It was quite painful when the butt-plug first went in, it was a bit thicker than I was expecting, but it went in without too much resistance. And the pain quickly subsided once again. Tom took my mind off me having anything inserted up my ass anyway, as he made me give him a blow job and he fucked my throat a little bit.

Once the butt plug was removed, and Tom’s cock was fully hard and rigid, he placed the tip at the bud and pushed it in, gently, slowly, carefully. Just like the other two times something had been inserted into my ass this evening, it was slightly painful, but not unbearable at all. He eased in until he had about two thirds in, I wasn’t sure I could take anymore and I told him that. He reached forward and grabbed my hair, and pulled quite hard as he yanked my head back, I let out a little pained shriek, and it wasn’t until a few seconds later that I realised he was now balls-deep in my ass. He’d distracted me so I wouldn’t feel the pain as he thrust his last couple of inches deep inside me. How sweet of him, eh? lol

He began to fuck me, starting slowly, but increasing the pace steadily until he’d been fucking my ass for what seemed like forever, but was maybe 10 minutes in reality, and he’d built up a good fucking rhythm, pulling almost all the way out, before thrusting back home. I was open to him now, and my ass was begging him to be fucked. Tom had done well to keep going that long, my ass must have been a snug fit around his impressive cock, even with all the lube reducing the friction. So it wasn’t long before he couldn’t take any more, and he pulled out of my ass and thrust into my pussy, spilling his copious amounts of cum deep inside me. I came at the same time as he did – lately I always had an orgasm when he came inside me, it was almost like him filling me with his cum just excited me so much that I couldn’t help myself.

We fell asleep very satisfied that night, and when we woke up the following morning, we made sure we got our money’s worth out of that hotel room. We must have fucked for about 3 hours straight before check out – in the bed, against the wall, with me sat on the dressing table, bent over the bathroom sink, and even in the shower.

I had no clean clothes with me for that day, so I left the hotel wearing nothing but my short summer coat and heels. I can’t imagine what people thought of us – the young teenage blonde, all slutty and half naked, the man 30+ years her senior. But I didn’t care what they thought; it was all part of the thrill.

Unfortunately, about this time spelled the beginning of the end of our relationship. The Uni year was coming to a close, and I was due to go home for the summer, and he was due to go back to his normal life. We’d discussed the possibility of life after Uni for us, and we thought it could work if we were careful and fought our need to see each other too often. And as our final Uni classes of the year drew to a close, and we all prepared for the summer, I decided to stay up north for the summer and not go home to my parents. I had arranged a short term lease of a studio flat to take me through until September, when I’d already planned to rent a house with two friends for the next year at Uni.

I was looking forward to some out-of-Uni fun times with Tom, but after meeting up twice for coffee – very ordinary non-sex-filled meeting – he suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet. I tried calling him, I tried texting and e-mailing him, but I got no reply. Still to this day I don’t know the full story as to what happened – I took a guess that we may have been found out by somebody in his family which forced a cold-turkey cut-off. But still I worried that something terrible had happened to him, and that had me distraught, to think that somebody I cared deeply about – dare I even say loved – could have been hurt or dead and there’d be no way of anybody letting me know.

A few stalker-esque moments came about in the following couple of weeks as I tried to find out where he lived – I knew the general area, but didn’t know his exact address, it was always simpler that way. I planned to maybe knock on his door, just to see if he was okay, but I didn’t. I did however go past his house a few times, trying discreetly to peer in through the windows. His car was outside, it looked like it was still in regular use, so I thought he must be okay, and I’m fairly sure I saw a glimpse of him through the window on one occasion, which again reassured me. I sent him a long e-mail soon after, just letting him know that I wish he could just contact me one last time, to let me know he was okay, and also letting him know that I understood that there may be reasons why he’d need to cut me off so cleanly, such as his wife finding out about us, and him wanting to save his marriage. We were just a fling after all; I couldn’t really expect us to have a long term future. I also told him I wouldn’t try and contact him again. I still got no response.

I was a little heartbroken, but what did I expect? I was the “other woman”, the “mistress”, the “bit on the side”. I really shouldn’t have messed with the sanctity of marriage vows. And I do sincerely feel bad for the whole thing, and for any hurt that my actions may have caused to anybody else. So I’d like to end this chapter with an apology to all cheated spouses, it is wrong to cheat, and I learned my lesson, I really did. But I’d also like to give a big thank-you to the man this blog calls “Tom” – you helped make me what I am today, and I love the girl I am today, and I don’t regret any moment of my life that got me to this point, as every moment shaped the future “Blogslut” into being the fantastic person she is today. ;-p So, thank you!

That’s the end of this Chapter folks. Both literally in that it’s the end of Chapter 8, and figuratively that it’s the end of this Chapter of my life. I’m going to think about what else I need to talk about with regards to my “journey”, and map out a time-line for future chapters of this true-to-life story of mine. So this blog-series will be on temporary hiatus for the foreseeable future, and I’m going to try and get back to writing a more current day as-things-happen type of blog for a while... if I can find the time of course.

So stay tuned, and thanks for reading.