All I want is you…

I chat to other men through apps. I try to make an effort to find someone, someone other than you. But really? Truly? I’m still infatuated with you.

Last night I found the Mumford and Sons song, ‘I will wait’. It was haunting. Totally true, but I can’t spend my life waiting on the off chance for you. I must try to move on with my life. But I can carry on quietly loving you…

(I want you to be the right man…)

I couldn’t help myself…

Lets blame low self esteem? Or maybe attention deficit disorder? Anything is better than me thinking I’m still in love with Family Friend. As previously exposed he has no interest in me as relationship or relationship material and therefore I am setting myself up for heartbreak if I don’t move on with the rest of my life. Saying that of course, he is a photographer and inspired by recent trip to see some art I’m back to taking naked selfie’s, (which I’m sure give it 30 or so years may become some form of art) and he’s a great person to show them to for “feedback”.

Or to be blunt for me to find out if they turned him on… oh dear. I has been doing so well. So well… 🙄😬

The Sideboob – less is more all the way…

I order a dress online based on the positive reviews about it. It’s metallic pink. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything.

The only part of the dress that looks good, is the fact it shows off a delicious bit of ‘side boob’. Yes. The only thing I like about this dress is the fact that as part of it’s cut, it showcases one piece of my flesh. The rest of the dress makes me look pregnant and although, yes, I would love to be pregnant with Family Friends child, if you aren’t carrying a miracle baby (as any pregnancy would be for me because of my health) then to be frank, you don’t want to look as though you are addicted to doughnuts.

I desperately want to love the dress. I heard a program on Radio 4 where the stylist said, that the go-to thing for Glastonbury was a ‘metallic dress’. And when I heard this, my heart cried out for joy as most glittery shiny clothing has an age cut off of 10 so for adult ware to catch up? I was overjoyed.

Flash forward to now and I am standing here in my ‘dream’ metallic dress and I look ridiculous. Luckily, despite my autoimmune disease which fatigues me enormously and my immune suppression which make me more susceptible to infection, I do have access to social media, so if in doubt, ‘Ask your friends’. I post some pictures online and wait.

Out in the real world, there are real problems happening. Don’t I know it. I’ve been on the front line of illness and stepped a little too close to the front line of risk in health. But now, in a moment of slight relief, I relish this silliness. This emphasis on nothingness. On fashion and folly. On ‘side boob’. On a body, I’m bloody lucky to still have.

No more ‘sexy texts’ from me…

I cracked. But I had good reason to.

My father while waiting for some medical appointment was in a waiting room when he saw a copy of ‘Spirit Magazine’ which was about steam traction engines. Inside the pages were some delightful illustrations of some viaducts in Devon and Cornwall. One of the pictures, in particular, was of the Viaduct in Truro, which is where Family Friend hails from.

Dear reader, I realise that the link between a 19th-century viaduct and a possible sexual conquest is tenable so that is exactly why I sent it. Because quite simply, I have not forgiven him his ‘disappearance’ the other Sunday, and now I am quite decided.

He will not be having sex with me.

Deep sigh.

A tilt of the head.

Yes. I will no longer be catering to this mans desires with photographs of me in lingerie, standing at provocative angles. No more me being ‘friendly’ and ‘flirty’. No. We are right back to where we started and there will never be another peep out of me about anything sexual.

Of course, I still want to be friends with him though! So when I saw this beautiful illustration of a viaduct it seemed perfect! The perfect friendship breaker? Yes.

Oh and it’s his birthday on Thursday, so I have also Amazon Primed him a Design Museum History of the Bike with the, I believe a casual message.

‘Dear ‘Family Friend’, wishing you a very happy birthday from Daisy and family xxx’.

There you go, darling. You may want to pretend none of the thousands of messages happened, but I am not going to forget them. No, not one bit. 😉

Saturday 28th: TFF: He hasn’t noticed me….

TFF: The Family Friend

He hadn’t noticed me. The family friend I secretly fancy, has not noticed me at all. Our brief flirtation with danger had passed. As he drove away I comforted myself with the thought that by my going to bed early we had managed to avoid any messiness or confusion. As much as this man had clearly shown me that my infatuation with the messed-up toxic boy was that and only that, he was not unmarked himself and came with a wardrobe full of issues. I felt the ground below me was not the place I wished to be in: I was on the right road to obtaining my goal. Which is him.

The worst-case scenario, as I could have seen it, was that in a moment of lustful late night sober hot summer nights inebriation, I might have sent some provocative photos to him as he lay tossing and restless in the adjacent room. The warmth of the night, the stillness of the hot air combined with the pleasant ease of our early evening interaction could have led all too easily into his arousal and then what?

Well. What I could not have let happen was the consummation of our passion. As much as I yearned to feel his lips against mine, to begin to explore his mouth with my tongue and softly caress his muscular neck and head, to do it now, so soon, without really knowing each other? Lunacy.

I do love him. Undoubtedly so and with the familiarity of someone close and akin to a brother – a step-brother for the propriety’s sake. But how can I know him when I have barely scratched the surface of knowing anything of him?  I know he loves to cycle and to surf and that through his career he is a dab hand behind most lenses but do I know the man? No, and that requires time and energy, the latter of which I am really lacking in right now.  And there’s another thing. If by some ill-fated moment of madness we were to fall into bed, well, he is a pro athlete and me, I’m a patient in recovery, blighted by fatigue that dogs me like a bad smell. The problem of course is I can already imagine what he would want and expect of me: fast, furious, hot, wet sex and based upon the inconsistency of my saliva production, my oral attentions would of physical necessity be of the slow, steady, considered and artistic variety and I suspect he is more International in his desires than that, so actually I am relieved; relieved that I have avoided disappointment when we have fucked so many times in my head, the real thing could never really be so good.

The hours pass gently and thoughts turn to my puppy. She has rolled in something unpleasantly malodorous and so, a little later,  and with my Father along for company we head off on an adventure to the local Pets At Home store to buy some powerfully aromatic shampoo that we hope will wash away the reek of countryside! While there we inquire about dog baths but all they have is dog paddling pools and in a moment of rash abandonment, I spend the last of my money on one. My Father looks at me quizzically and I explain that with the temperature is forecast to rise steeply I want both our dogs to be able to keep cool. Of course, I’ve also secretly considered that in the worst heatwave scenario, I’d not think twice about sitting in it myself and have already visualised the scene: a glass of non-alcoholic wine in my hand, sunglasses fashionably atop my head, and a dog or perhaps two, beside me? I’m already planning the Instagram post in my head…

Back home, my mother has stretched out an extension lead onto the wooden deck so she can iron of all the family’s clothes in the shade of the awning. She doesn’t have to do it and she certainly doesn’t have to do it now but she does anyway simply because she loves us all, even those who have left home. Some mothers bake healthy seed bars and cupcakes with buttercream and sprinkles for those they love. My mother irons. Everyone has their way of showing affection. I really I have no idea why she is doing it now though, in the midst of this almost European heat. It’s a mystery.

My father works his way methodically through his Newspaper and then, much to her annoyance, my Mother’s Newspaper too. The unexpected heat of Summer has suddenly made the garden feel like a foreign land and, when a little breeze blows through, we are pleasantly surprised: so easily delighted! I ask my father to help with the dog paddling pool, and within seconds it is up. Then we start to fill it, and soon the fun begins as we try to tempt the dogs into it. My puppy gets the idea first; her youthful enthusiasm bubbling through as she prances in and out.  The older dog, despite loving the sea is less enamoured and takes to leaning over as far as he can to try and reach the ball of temptation we have thrown in. Eventually, he cracks, they both have the idea, we all laugh at the fun of it. They aren’t my children but they have the innocence of children and the desire to play. I relish their boundless enthusiasm.

When later it becomes cooler, I start to cook. I love my mother so much, and although I have managed to scrimp together some money for gifts I believe it will be my baking that will prove my adoration. Realistically though, of course, it won’t. She doesn’t bake. She doesn’t comprehend the stress of accurately weighing out the ingredients; the fear that rises as you implore the cake to do. Oh, the anxiety of the wait! Will it rise?  For everything to be ready in time tomorrow the only sensible thing to do will be to rise at around six am – but making a start now, well that’s a start!

By the evening we are ready for the last episode of ‘The Looming Tower’, a fantastic bit of dramatization about 911. Jeff Daniels’ performance is excellent, and the inclusion of genuine footage of the hijackers is chilling. By the time the inevitable occurs, we are cold with fear and incredulous of the CIA.  As the Towers are hit, we have transported there again and yet again I find myself confronted with the reality of how life is so fleeting and so haphazard. unplanned.  We don’t know how long we have. We don’t know the plans of others. We only have now and we must live in the moment and appreciate the now for what it is and what we can make of it.

Afterwards, we switch over to watch Glastonbury and ‘The Killers’ are playing. I watch with envy at the revellers, the crowds, the darkness and the swaying lights of the phones held up to the performers. I’ve wanted to go to Glastonbury ever since I became aware of it but money and then health has always held me back. Now, now that I have been touched by the closeness of death, and the subsequent possibility of organ rejection I know I must not wait for the “right” moments: I must make the ‘right moments’ myself.

I go upstairs for a shower. It’s been so hot today that I covered myself in some suntan lotion called P20, which seals and protects your skin and then . . . .

“Fuck it!” And so I message him.

[7:46 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: How did the rest of your day go?

[7:54 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Well it’s too hot to paint. In organising mode. Fixing the bike.

What did you get up to?

[8:00 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Currently in the shower 🚿 lol funny coincidence

(It’s a funny coincidence because back when this all began she had sent him some photos from the shower. It had been art. That was her excuse. A personal desire to create an erotic image on a woman showering with the water, cascading down on to her naked form. The curves of her body sensual in the half-light. She had, originally just wanted an opinion. She hadn’t known that it would excite him. Set his mind racing. Quicken his pulse and make him reach for himself to quiet the urge that now pulsated within him.

[8:01 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: That I will be doing soon. Need a cold shower.

And then, as an afterthought.

[8:02 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Show me.

She shouldn’t. She should resist. She should. But she doesn’t.

[8:05 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: And will I get one back?

[8:06 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: If you ask.

[8:07 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Shame you disappeared last night. Would have been nice to play with you and your many toys.

[8:07 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Mr Scott, Miss requests a photo of you enjoying your shower 🚿 this is open to the interpretation of course… 😉

[8:08 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: You asked for no temptations – so there were none. 😉

[8:17 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Should have opened that up for interpretation.

[8:19 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Looking skinny miss!

[8:25 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: First world problems – too much nipple for dinner

[8:26 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: But not in clothes 😉

[8:31 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Well that would have been fun to play with last night. Instead, I smashed my head and woke up hard.

[8:56 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Feel rubbish about your head… sorry 😐

[8:56 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: In other news… Did you wake up hard? Now I am disappointed I missed that! 😜

[9:13 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Well at 1:17. I was thinking about you then just smashed my head.

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Oh was that why you went to your phone…?

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Gawd – I am feeling so bad now!

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Yes!

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Thought I’d pester you and wanted to play.

[9:14 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Although that could be the world pointing out we should behave in real life. or we will be punished. lol

[9:15 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: True.

[9:15 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Gawd… you are so so dangerous…

[9:15 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Not complaining!

[9:16 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: I am. Not exactly sensible…

[10:04 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I’m still waiting…

[10:04 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: 📷 ? 😉

[10:10 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Want to see you cuming

[10:26 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Ha knew I should have held back until I had a written confirmation of mutual reciprocation lol

[10:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Shower time

[10:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Killers are on at Glastonbury

[10:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Oh I love them.

 

I’m thrilled with a shared connection. Maybe we aren’t so different after all?

 

[10:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Me too

[10:28 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Distracted me

[10:28 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I’ve spent my life waiting for money and health to go to Glastonbury- next year – fuck it – I’m going

[10:29 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: God my head hurts from the bang.

 

He had banged his head on a shelf in the early hours of the morning, and although I have apologised several times for the awkwardness of household fitting I really don’t know how many times I can apologise and make anything better. Why does he keep bringing it up?

 

[10:32 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I’m not really sure what to say 🙄

[10:32 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Go and distract yourself?

[10:33 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Sorry 😐 doesn’t really do much

[10:34 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Don’t worry. Time to cum in the shower

[10:39 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Like to see your pussy filled as I cum over you.

[11:20 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I would like to be kissed by those amazing lips but hey ho – but no chance of that so looks like neither of us may get what we want for now…

[11:21 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Well you never know.

 

Why Scott? Why? You wouldn’t mean it. You know you wouldn’t. But there you go, raising up my hopes. Making me think that maybe I stand a chance in the world of 9/10 and people like you. On a good day, I am an 8. But that’s through and down to mind, my looks aren’t much, but the package is.

 

[11:21 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Like to sink my tongue in your wet pussy.

 

Oh god, I moisten at the thought.

 

[11:26 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: I’ve got a brilliant little vibrator which strokes me delightfully…. but fingers that stroke is always better… then a tongue flicking, licking, twisting over and around… meow…

 

And then in answer to his previous comment.

 

[11:27 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: And ha – I know the score so I’m not holding my breath 😉😘

[11:28 PM, 6/29/2019] Scott: Thought about two fingers in deep and pulling our hard to make you squirt. Think about my arm tense and my fingers in you deep.

[11:58 PM, 6/29/2019] Daisy: Nice thoughts to take to bed with me…

 

[12:02 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Hard thinking of your beautiful breasts as I hugged you.

[12:04 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Meanwhile I was there thinking – “Hmm… at what point is this hug too long? And therefore inappropriate? Why has no one come up with timings for these things? And Christ wow – what a nice body…”

[12:07 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Love our hugs as I feel your beautiful breasts close to my chest.

 

I am now noting that a good way to get him aroused our hugs. The closeness of proximity. And maybe perhaps body warmth combined with touch? Next time I must try and hug him more. Be the huggable I can be…

 

[12:08 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Greatly relieved that when I can eventually afford to go on holiday and (if you aren’t otherwise loved up with someone or busy) I ask you along -topless sunbathing will not be awkward.

 

[12:18 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Don’t I’m hard.

 

I take a selfie with a bra strap off my shoulder, the suggestion of my nipple just revealed.

 

[12:22 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Sometimes less is more x

[12:24 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: As in you did not fuck me.

[12:28 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Shame you did not take me.

[12:37 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: The days of me making the first moves on a one night stand are over – I’m only assertive when I know it’s mine to take – boring but reliably short of risk

[12:38 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Yep mine too.

[12:40 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Shame would have been fun watching you cum and your nipples getting hard

[12:43 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: I would have loved to see you get hard x

 

I start to slide my vibrator in deeper. Allowing it to stroke my inner walls. By changing my angle I can get it to feel as though I am astride him and I close my eyes and let the moans rise up inside me.

My phone beeps, but I am too involved. Whatever it is will need to wait.

By the time I have reached a crescendo of melting pleasure, my phone screen is alight again.

 

[12:46 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: I’m playing now.

[12:48 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Do you want to cum together

[12:50 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Sorry 😐 I couldn’t wait…

[12:51 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: I thought you had gone to sleep which is why I didn’t wait sorry 😐

[12:54 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: I wanted you on me.

[12:56 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Funnily enough that was my (just now) choice of angle – but it would have been too slow for you in real life.

 

I send through the shot of me and my toy.

 

[12:59 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Sleep well naughty one x don’t worry I will be the sensible one for now!

[1:12 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: One last thought – do you think you might ever want to just lie in bed with me? Cuddle or spoon? Without doing anything?

Or to be blunt – because life is too short and I hope you always can be honest with me – is it just the sex you want?

 

She waits for a bit. Restless now. Wanting an answer. Checking her phone, and then, eventually giving into sleep.

On waking, she checks her phone.

 

[1:28 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Yes. I want you to suck me as I fill you.

 

Ignoring the fact that she can’t for the life of her work out how this setup would work, here we are back to stage one. I try not to be disappointed. Realistically it’s much better to know he just sees me as sex, them mutually enjoying getting off, and not risking getting hurt. If I can now try and play the long game, maybe, even, ignore him for a bit? Could I manage that? I could surely get on with my writing? That’s what I must do… but first, a selfie! By twisting my hair up it’s gone into voluptuous rolls so I let it unfurl and tumble and turns to the window for the best light. It’s a sensible and serious selfie. In my bra. My cleavage curves seductively and my lips are moistened with gloss and the suggestion of more. I send it.

 

[10:48 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: Have a great positive and productive day x

[10:54 AM, 6/30/2019] Scott: Thank you. You too.

[10:55 AM, 6/30/2019] Daisy: And don’t worry 😉 you’ve been Captain Sensible for a long time, I can wear the uniform for a bit now 😉

 

Yes, she can.

 

 

I should know better, the truth about Family Friend.

Maybe you are on his mind, as much as he is on yours…

I should know better. It’s not as though this conversation has been totally cool. If I look back through the picture messages and well let us be frank, the predominant number, most of them are from me. I don’t want to think the worst of him, because I don’t even think he probably realizes what this is turning into but if this was a friend I think I’m beginning to realize what I would say to them.

The Family Friend is lonely. He’s also a guy with a high sex drive. What he wants is an available woman. He’s also, been very badly hurt in the past and for that among many reasons he’s scared of rejection and doesn’t want to get hurt again. He wants someone he can trust, and yet his head is still so messed up he can’t even begin to fathom the idea of a relationship. Trust issues are huge, as is our desire for self-preservation but that doesn’t mean that he’s not full of desire.

Then along came me; the ‘other’ female Family Friend that has always been in his life and he’s seen grow from a child into a woman. At first, he may have been confused and a little disgusted that he found me attractive but after I made it clear that I was a sexual human being and available, his defences dropped. At this point due to the choice of communication method viz texting and images, he was able to detach himself from the reality of me as a person in his life. When we message he is talking to a sexualized, available human being and suddenly an innocent friendship has turned into something much more erotic.

If we were not connected through families, friendship and years of memories and experiences, if we were strangers, then what happens next really wouldn’t matter but unfortunately, we have both been hurt and for us both, trust issues are huge. If I was someone with more energy then maybe it would be OK to casually fuck him but as much as many women are fine with this arrangement, I am the sort of person that attaches a huge amount of significance to sexual intercourse especially now as he is the man I’ve had a crush on since the age of about seven and felt that I have loved since the age of 15. With our limited contact, there is no real way I could actually have been in love with him – infatuated more likely – but that doesn’t stop me from feeling that he could be “The One” Realistically, realistically there’s no such thing as “The One.” There are a number of different people who come into your life at different times for different reasons and at any point might feel a good fit with what you’re looking for. To say that they are the only one that would complete you and make you feel complete is just a figment of the imagination.

So to summarize, what is harmless fun and erotic pleasure to him is unfortunately seen by me as something much more than it actually is. Flattered as I am by his attention and as turned on as I am by him, if I really want to get on with my life, I am actually going to have to start ignoring him and bringing things back to a more level existence.

I’m an old hand now at falling for people that don’t love me and at least the bittersweetness of this whole mini-drama is that even though he doesn’t love me as I want him to, I’m sure at least a little part of him loves me as a friend.

When the messages stopped so suddenly today leaving me on so geographically satisfied I panicked. Of course, I did, it’s what I finished being rejected, or worse abandoned. The last thing is an echo back to my childhood existence. (Men don’t understand how a lack of response can be so destroying to a woman, why must we need so much attention? Really? It’s quite mad.) And with anyone else, yes. I should be freaked. But not with TFF. Yes, he can do weird shit, and he can run away, but realistically we are tied to together by more than randomness. Family friendships have existed for years and will continue to do so, we will just need to row on. Row on down the river of life, and past all the craziness of relationships and love.

Update 190702
I sent the picture included with the last post and the message “#friendship, #friends x” and finally once he had read this followed it up with an image self from a photographer friend of a woman on her front spread eagle across a bed. Well, why not? It’s not like I am going to get what I want right now, so the occasional tease or arousing shot can’t hurt? Can it…?

I’m not giving up yet. Not on this one.

Romance in the style of ‘Pretty Woman’

It’s a long story but the short version is that the man I’ve been in love with since I was 15 started flirting with me after Christmas. (Family friend so think Colonel Brandon in the film version of Sense and Sensibility with Alan Rickman who yes still gets me moist).

Great! Except he is only interested in sex, and having waited all my life for him to marry, have a family and then divorce I’m not about to waste the opportunity of trying to be a bit more than a quick shag.

And so begins the long game… more on that later. But what I had to post about tonight was how this man, this gorgeous, smart, funny man has just got ten times cuter. Now don’t get me wrong, when a few months back he said he didn’t kiss on the lips I knew why but I didn’t bother to say anything as hey, coincidences just happen all the time. However, tonight he mentioned this again in some light casual flirting and I just knew I had to be sure. Two articles later I find what I knew was true but had to see in print.

In ‘Pretty Woman’ the best film in the world, our heroine Vivian won’t kiss Edward on the lips because those are kisses reserved for love…

Is not that just such beautiful modern poetry?

I don’t think he had given up either. He says he will never marry again or have any more children but even if it’s not with me, I believe he is too good a catch to say single for long.

I always thought he was out of my reach, and maybe on one level he still is. But if you can love someone as ‘family’ for years, why not be hopeful that one day it could grow to something more?

Xoxo