The little boy who wrecked a home?

Hul!

I promised myself I would write this blog everyday....and look...it's 22.41 and i'm just beginning. My phone sex buddy (M) is due to call in fifteen minutes. So i'm thinking, it'll probably be past 12 midnight before I post this thing! (Must also scoff down Chinese meal beforehand, only to work it off later!)

...

23.25: Managed to get back earlier than expected. My mobile phone has died. The lady at the call centre (and what a firm young lady she was) kindly informed me that they weren't sure what the exact nature of the problem was, that one of their thingies ( a highly technical turn of phrase you realise) had fallen off or something and that I should expect to be reconnected within the next hour. So, blog will be written and phone sex has to be put off. Bugger. It's a while since i've chatted to M, as we can only chat when M's boyfriend is out of town on work.

But I have known M for many years. Very clever, with the biggest libido going. We can talk about many things, but the sex has reduced or ability to really spend over an hour discussing other aspects of our lives. But i'm trying to change this. The guilt of the relationship sometimes turns what we say into something we shouldn't. But really, truly, honestly...I can't believe that what i'm doing is wrong. For if I did, I wouldn't do it. Ha! but when are relationships ever this simple?

Being a self confessed home wrecker is an interesting thing. Even though you could bet your willy on the fact that the home will never ACTUALLY be wrecked (atleast with M, I can assure you it will not!), you, as the HW must feel utter guilt. It's imperative. And this is because nice people are monogamous and anybody who graffitis over the white picket fence should be done for vandalism (and rightly so!)

So the sex is good, but it's not real sex. M insists it is 'different'. That there are different types of sex and well, that what we do isn't really the same as 'being together'. I'm sure real sex is different and probably much better, but the distinction between various types of sex is a concept pretty much lost on a virgin. ANY sex would be a great thing. And well, I would be the first to raise the flags and rally in support of phone fumbling. Because, over the telephone we don't have the sweat, the bodily fluids, the awkward impotence, the bad breath (even a virgin knows this much) to deal with. Instead we have our minds and imagination, and this is the only place where the walls can dissolve at the drop of a hat. In this respect, cyber sex comes a close second. In fact, any sex where you are miles away in body, but pretty much conjoined at the brain, would come a close second.

Something else you should know about M. I tried to meet M, whilst I was traveling across the world. And we were quite close to meeting and having the sex I had forever craved. But things didn't work out and now M is unsure about meeting. I can hear the footsteps of guilt in the background. And so I have learnt to give it up. Not M. Never M. M is very important in this journey i'm embarking on. But the idea. I am giving up the idea of something more with M, because whilst M has two things I have ended up with 1/2 and it's high time I moved to whole figures.