Ben Affleck is a twat blocker!

Good god it’s hot Lovers!

Seriously, my butt is so sweaty my crack has practically misted over! I am truly envious of all my Lovers in the northern hemisphere right now! But enough about my damp derriere, I have great news! The How Many Frogs?  Facebook page is finally up and running! That’s right, if you’re looking for your one stop sexual shop, then Facebook is where you need to be! Ok maybe not your complete stop shop, but if you’re in need of some saucy quotes, amusing memes, and updates and tidbits from your favourite blog, then look no further! Just type in “How Many Frogs?” and you’re away!

Now, where did we leave off last time? Ah that’s right, I had Callum’s pants off and had just been confronted with his… situation. Yeah it was small, like really small, but I contented myself with the knowledge that many men these days were growers, not showers. Who knew, in a few moments time I could be eating my words whilst struggling to fit his enormous cock into my pitifully inadequate mouth! That’s right, no judgements Claire, don’t be the bitch Nathan Lynes told you you’d turn out to be when you were in year two.

Armed with these positive thoughts, I grasped the bottom of Callum’s shirt and pulled it up over his head.

Ok now things were just getting ridiculous.

I had just gotten the boy completely naked and he was still totally enraptured with the television. What did Ben have that I didn’t?! Apart from rippling abs and the ability to save the world from certain disaster of course. I was starting to get very annoyed. Was Callum not attracted to me? Did I smell funky? (His own fault really for serving me onions, but still.) Or even worse, was he just not a sexual person?

Good God no!

I needed sex in my relationship. Cuddles are lovely, kissing is nice but fucking is fabulous! I may have mellowed a little in my old age, but back then in my very early twenties I was on eager beaver! I could barely handle a few minutes of foreplay before I was yelling “Put it in! Put it in!” (So romantic.)

No no, this boy was going to have sex with me and he was going to enjoy it goddam it! So much so he would be dragging me into bed every time we saw each other. Or hotel rooms, or change rooms, or toilets. Whatever.

Stop thinking so much and just do it you silly woman! Honestly, sex scenes do not normally take this many pages! Although normally the heroine is not battling with a sluggish, seemingly disinterested partner. Mills and Boon would not be happy with that I can tell you now. Unless loins are a burning it’s straight in the bin with that G-rated rubbish.

Right, it was reveal time.

I hopped up on my knees and slid my skirt off slowly, enjoying the smooth fabric as it slithered down my freshly shaven legs. If he wasn’t going to appreciate them I sure as hell was. Then I took a deep breath and lifted my shirt up over my head, the plan being to toss it luxuriously off the bed once it cleared my head, leaving my hair to drape wild and free around my shoulders, framing my modest yet maximally pushed up décolletage. Unfortunately I forgot my ‘wild and free’ hair was being held in place by a few choicely placed bobby pins, which chose that exact moment to make their appearance.

Rather than impressing my boyfriend with my effortless sex appeal, I instead demonstrated the art of how to fall off the bed whilst tangled in your own shirt, blinded by your endless amounts of hair. A gentleman would have caught me. A gentleman would have dashed to my aid, laid his jacket around my shoulders and instantly produced a cup of chamomile tea to soothe my nerves. A gentleman would have at least asked after my welfare. A gentleman would definitely not however, fall about himself laughing, asking his mistress to ‘do it again so I can film it this time!’

Oh the humiliation!

I could have given up right then and there. I could have stormed out and sulked in the lounge room. I could have thrown myself off the balcony to see if he would even notice, but instead, I took it on the chin (which funnily enough happens more often than you think due to men’s terrible sprog aim) and clambered back into bed with an embarrassed giggle.

On the plus side, I had finally captured his attention.

Finally, finally Callum pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately. Success!

I savoured the feeling as his tongue greedily explored my mouth, his hands coming up to fondle my neck and caress my waist. Ah it was heaven.

For about ten minutes.

God I was bored! As I said, kissing is lovely, especially when you’re surfing the crimson wave. There’s nothing better than whiling away a few blissful hours in the company of someone’s tongue, knowing it’s not going any further unless you take a long shower and lay down some serious towels. But when it’s that very special ‘first time’ with your ‘special someone,’ progress needs to occur swiftly! I kept trying to twist and turn to manoeuvre Callum’s hand onto my chest, or at the very least my butt, but his hands stayed firmly in the ten and two position, leaving me with the very real fear that this romp may simply end with a peck and a good night.

Not on my watch Mister.

I disengaged from the kiss and headed downtown, eager to jumpstart his yogurt slinger ASAP. After wrapping my mouth around his gravy maker I was pleased to hear some soft satisfied moans coming from above me. However, as soon as I looked up from my task, I saw the bastard was still watching tv! I jammed my finger into his belly button and twisted, hard.

He yelped in pain and all thoughts of Benny Affleck left his mind in a rush. Or at least I hoped they had. I shook my head at him and finally let go of my frustration. Why was he so uninterested? Wasn’t this special for him? Didn’t he like me? And what the hell was this obsession with the damn movie? If I had known Ben was going to be such twat blocker I would have turned the tv off instantly!

Callum finally realised he was being a douche and subsequently apologised profusely, citing “nerves” as his reason. I wasn’t convinced, the boy was clearly no schoolboy virgin, but at least he had apologised, which was a start.

So when Callum went in for another kiss I was finally confidant that it would lead to something. He rolled on top of me and with a few clumsy fumbles tried to preheat my oven. I didn’t mind the fact that he was no Casanova downtown; it was just great to finally get his full attention and effort. With a rip and a slip, the condom was on and it was go time.

Journey to the centre of the Claire had begun.

And it was fine. Nothing mind blowing, but not the stuff of nightmares either. When it comes down to it, size isn’t important, it’s just a luxury really. But then again so are leather car seats and every man and his dog want those.

When Callum was done ( I wasn’t exactly sure when it happened as he was unfortunately one of the dreaded ‘silent comers’) he rolled off and almost instantly fell asleep. Turns out that particular male behaviour is universal no matter what the cock size.

As I lay there contemplating what had just transpired, I made two promises to myself. The first was that I would never judge a man by his schlong size, (it all feels the same once they jam it in anyways) and the second was that next time we attempted this, I was officially going to blow Callum’s mind. Oh yes, it was costume time…

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: I grind so fine, they call me coffee.



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