Filth

God what a random week. I feel quite exhausted and I'm still at work at 7pm killing time before meeting D who's on his way down from Warwickshire.

My date on Wednesday night turned out to be a lovely suprise. The guy was very funny and much cuter than his photos suggested. We went to The Sanderson and had cocktails in the courtyard outside the Long Bar. We stayed for hours just talking and laughing and drinking cocktails (him: Frostbite me: Pink Passion). He walked me to the tube and down onto my platform to wait with me. We ended up having an astonishingly frantic snogging session resulting in my missing three trains and his substantial hard on. Even though my flat mate was out I decided not to invite him home and instead we made do with texting filth to each other all the way home and in bed until we both admitted to coming. He hadn't seemed remotely nasty on the date (mind you, neither did I) so it was a nice surprise. He emailed me the following day to set up another date. I am wondering whether he would have done had I taken him home. If it goes anywhere I think I'll ask that question.

My contact with the myspace boy has continued apace to the point where I have ended up having to 'attend to myself' at work. I know for definite that he's done the same, because he text me a video of the evidence. I've replayed it approximately 40 times since receiving it and I am still massively aroused by it. Then yesterday, things became real when he suggested meeting up after I'd been out with friends. He was actually willing to drive the 20 minutes into London at 11pm simply to meet me. I seem to have temporarily lost all sense of decency because rather than be horrified at such an irrational and selfish suggestion, instead I found myself agreeing. He met me at the tube and we spent almost two hours in his car, talking and fooling around. I occasionally questioned what the heck I was up to, given that this guy was a 24 year old and I have such a thing about age (got to be older) but he's not a normal 24 year old. He's made porn films for crying out loud, he has a very successful job and a car that's as horny to look at as he is (well almost). I'm not going to lie, I really don't think there's anything on the personality front particularly that would keep me going back, it's purely the fact that I fancy the pants off him and knowing about his extensive and extreme sexual experience makes me desperate to learn what he could teach me. I have the flat to myself when I get back into town on Sunday so he's coming over. I'm simultaneously very excited and pretty scared. I think he has the capacity to be quite gentle but I also know the things he's described doing to me aren't just talk. This boy has done it all and when he says he wants to tie me up and lick me for hours, or spank me so hard he leaves welts, I know he means it. He made me promise not to make myself orgasm all weekend until I see him. I went along with it for the fantasy, neglecting to tell him about my date tonight and the fact that judging by last time D and I will end up getting it on tonight. As I type this, I feel worry creep in. It would appear I have morphed into a super-slut. When did that happen?