But seriously, where are your shoes?

Evening Lovers!

Hope you all had a fabulous weekend! I certainly did! But enough of what happened last night, we need to backtrack here.

So now that you know exactly why I don’t swallow anymore (shudder) you can understand how a big a step it was for me to let Tim come in my mouth. Therefore the next morning I was keen to see if my investment was well placed or if I had just danced with the diarrhea devil for naught.

When my eyes cracked open at 8am (far too early for a Sunday morning in my opinion) I was happy to see that Tim was still an attractive man and not some beer goggled illusion. I’d give him a C minus for cuddling, the dude was practically licking the wall all night. However in the morning he made up for it as we snuggled and talked about the usuals. “You remember what happened last night right? Your name is Tim yes? And your over eighteen? Ok great carry on.”

After some pillow talk we delved into some morning sex, not normally my favourite activity as everyone tends to have bad breath, your all dried out from last nights exertions and there’s about a thousands farts waiting to be unleashed. I wanted to see if the sex was as good as last night though, so I clenched my ass to watertight levels and let it happen.

Nice, very nice.

The curvy wang was still something new so I had to keep adjusting to keep my vital organs from being scraped as he eagerly  thrusted away, but all round it was really fun. I even got to arch my back as he was sitting up and I was laying flat, something I love doing as it always reminds me of my smutty Mills and Boon romance novels and makes me think I’m some exotic princess being held captive by the evil King and his hot son just happens to want to have his way with me and rescue me. In that order. Hey, whatever works right?

So after the love fest, where he very politely came inside like a gentleman (don’t get your safe sex panties in a twist people, he was of course wearing a condom) he offered to make breakfast. I sat up eagerly. Eggs? Bacon? Just bacon?

No, quinoa.

Kill me now.

I politely declined and tried to suffocate myself under his pillow as he wandered off to go and make himself some bloody ‘super food’ breakfast. Blurgh.

When Tim returned he was holding a saucepan and a wooden spoon. He held the spoon out to me and offered me some of the porridge like substance sitting on it. I’ve never felt more sorry for a piece of kitchen wear in my life, and that includes the scrubbing brush we once used to unclog the drain. I shook my head and watched with veiled horror as he spooned in mouthful after mouthful of the stuff. It had taken on a sickly brown colour and when I questioned him he told me that he mixed in cacao to make it taste even better.

Pfft, waste of chocolate if you ask me.

After he was done with his gruel it was time to head off, so we dressed and hopped into his car, not without a few cheeky bum smacks on the way. I was happy. Apart from his terrible taste in breakfast foods (seriously, had he never heard of Nutrigrain?) he was a really nice guy. Plus I was hoping I could learn more about tantra, it was so fascinating! After a quick kiss good bye we arranged to meet again in a few days.

Skip to a few days later.

Ok, so I was determined not to ruin this thing like I did with all the other guys I liked. The pattern normally went like this. We met, we had a beer or two, we slept together then had a great morning after. Then I would start to pine. I would build the guy up in my head, start to miss him even though it had only been one day, put his last name after mine to see if we should hyphenate or if I would just take his outright, and other crazy insane thoughts like that. Then we would meet for the second date and of course the mere mortal man would not live up to my conjured expectations and everything would fall flat. I’d usually sleep with him a second time to see if a physical attraction was still there, but normally that had all but fizzled as well.

Not this time though! Not this time. I was going to have a great time and we would have some lovely sex and things would grow from there and we would live happily ever after in a house with a pool that had cool underwater lights so we could throw awesome parties in the summer.

Maybe not.

Tim texted me on a Sunday asking if I wanted to go to the convent with him.


After a few Q and A’s I found out we would not be going to pray with the nuns and wash linen, but to eat some dinner, watch some bands and look at art. Turned out the convent hadn’t been an actual convent for years but was now a hip happening place that was both at one with nature and also art.

What could go wrong?

I hopped on a train and we arranged for Tim to pick me up. I was super nervous but determined all the same. When his car pulled onto the street my stomach did a little flip. It could have been excitement or the slightly old tomato soup I had eaten earlier. I decided to go with excitement. He parked up and jumped out of his car.


He ran over to me and we did the obligatory hug and kiss on the cheek before I asked the obvious question.

“So… no shoes?”

He looked at me and smiled, taking my hand and walking me to the car as he said

“I just felt like today wasn’t a day for shoes. Why do we need shoes? This way we can connect to Mother Earth.”

I contemplated running in front of the next car I saw but abstained by sheer force of will.

What the fuck? Closer to Mother Earth? Why do we need shoes? Bitch, that’s what prickles were invented for!

I looked longingly at the passers by on the street, all of them clad in wonderful, awesome shoes, and then I got into the car with Hippy Mcgee.

As we drove I felt a knot forming in my stomach, I’d say about roughly the size of a tomato. How ironic. This was going to be bad. I asked Tim what the place was like and he said it had a great garden and was perfect for long walks. I jokingly commented that it would be awesome as long as it wasn’t just a bunch of hippies sitting around smoking pot.

He hesitated.

Fuck my life.

I sighed and resigned myself to an interesting night full of new and unwanted experieces. When we finally got there I found out that we would have to climb the fence to get in because the front entrance was closed. I figured it might be romantic like in Notting Hill. Then I found out exactly why the costume department hadn’t put Julia Roberts in a skirt for that scene. My legs and arms were everywhere as I clambered over the wrought iron fence, very aware that the spikes were in very close proximity to a special friend of mine who would like to remain un-pierced. I hauled my skirt up and over the fence and fell as gracefully as a wilder-beast onto Tim, who was waiting on the other side. After reassembling the remnants of my once delightful outfit, we joined hands and took a walk. The place really was beautiful, with fresh green grass and massive trees towering over it. Of course the crazy ladies dancing beneath those trees were a bit off putting but I tried to put my hesitation aside and just go with it.

Minus the tree dancing, no way I was confessing my love for the humble oak through expressive movement.

We strolled past the art gallery, which was unfortunately shut and on to a special back bar Tim was eager to show me. The bar was pretty cool. You know what would’ve been cooler? If we had of been able to get in. But no, Mr No Shoes and his great idea for bare feet meant no entry for either of us. Which was a real shame because I really could have used a drink by that point. Things looked up dramatically however when I realised they had a petting zoo! I absolutely adore animals and watching the cute little sheep and goats running around like crazy things improved my mood no end. Of course Tim was keen to keep moving as I was paying literally zero attention to him and was more involved in Billy the pig than him. He finally dragged me away and we went for a walk along the river. Of course that didn’t last long either because Timboy got the chills and we had to go back so he could warm up. I almost offered him my jacket but then realised that that would make the date a complete disaster and I so wanted to salvage it.

So when Tim suggested dinner I jumped at the chance. Maybe if we could get out of this convent and back into the real world things would return to normal. But no, the convent had a restaurant.

A vegan restaurant.

No meat. No Eggs. No fun.

I sat there watching the crowd file past the bain-maries filled with orange, green and brown substances, taking in the clientele. Turns out not many people liked shoes in this particular establishment, or shampoo for that matter. Tim sipped his camomile tea and yapped on about how he wanted his daughter to go to a hippy school because it will improve her learning and stuff if she’s surrounded by natural things. I’m not really a huge fan of nature or kids so most of this went over my head, but I nodded dutifully and silently plotted my escape route. Finally I concocted a sure fire plan.

“You know what really turns me on?” I asked suddenly. Instantly Tim was at attention, eager to hear the juicy details of my latest fantasy. (We had been discussing such things on our long walk.)

“Indian food!” I gushed. “I just love all those exotic spices, they really get me hot in more ways than one!”

Ok, I know it was a pathetic excuse, but I just couldn’t bring myself to eat the mushy green stuff, let alone pay for it. Luckily my Indian gamble paid off and it was back over the fence for us. I had to get a boost from Tim and I may or may not have accidentally fluffed in his face, but thankfully it was a silent one and we were right next to a bin, so I could blame it on that. Phew!

We went home and Tim popped on some shoes before we headed to a cute little Indian joint. I knew I was going to have to have sex with him after this with all the hot talk so I made sure to eat just enough to be full but not enough to be exploding out of orifices once a heavy weight was thrown on top of me.

I must say I was a bit bummed we split the bill. I’m all up for bill splitting second, third, fourth and forever after dates, but it’s always been my opinion that a guy should shout on the very first date. After all, the grand total was $22.50 surely he could have sprung? I flashed back to the night we met when he was drinking my beer. God was he broke? I couldn’t date another broke guy, I just couldn’t! It may sound very very shallow but I’d done my time with numerous broke men, paying their rent, dental bills and just about everything else. It was time to get spoiled!

After dinner we headed back to Tim’s and he tried to set the mood. Poor lamb. He was trying so hard to make the place sexy it was just coming off as weird. He even tried to pick a sexy play list, which I must say, was just about the un-sexiest music I had ever heard. It was like electric whale song.

Needless to say I made it quick that night.

Then he dragged me up out of bed and made me sit at his computer (because tv’s are bad apparently) and watch some terrible show that he loved. He cackled away while I quietly died inside. So, another one bites the dust. He wasn’t the one. He was just one of the many that was nice enough, but not for me.

I decided not to see him again after that, but stupidly I left my earrings at his house so we will meet again. When? I don’t know. All I know is that it sure as hell won’t be at his house. His daughters bed is right next to his (don’t worry his daughter was never there) and it’s just way to creepy to have sex while the whole cabbage patch crew is watching.

So I guess the search is still on, but not to worry Lovers, I’ll go for someone childless next time so the only thing watching us will be his one eyed monster 😉

Claire xx

Best Bonking Song: Anything by Micheal Buble. Seriously, anything, that man could sing Incy Wincy Spider and make the       ladies gush.

Best used: Anytime. Anywhere. With Anyone. It’s the Bube!

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