Archive - The Cock Report

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by CKReporter @ 2008-01-31 – 11:10:14

Yes party people in the place to be. I've been trying to get on for the last few days to add to this but it seems I couldn't get access for whatever reason, although I see people have been paying me a visit, a cursory one at that though!
Before I carry on I'd just like to say I would love to hear from you people out there who may be coming across these little gems! Feel free to comment on anything you read, good or bad. It's always intriguing to see how others perceive you, and throughout my life I have been plagued by people lacking the ability to do so for whatever reason. As only my closest of friends feeling they could. So for you people out there I don't know, chip in, tell me what you think, from what you’ve seen, what kind of person do you take me for?

Onwards and upwards. Yesterday was one of those crazy days, a day where desires of the flesh take precedence over all others. Not intentionally of course. But when that urge comes, boy does it come a gushing. I was hot for the trot trying to track down some form of sexual assignation. You see my mailbox is still brimming on Genuine Swingers, a site I’m still not sure about. There are so many seemingly available women in my locality and asking for the goods which I've got. But has one of these supposed hunnies read my profile to get my email address which I've camouflaged in there? Do they see the same profile that I see? Are they incompetent fools? What the fuck in a word? I wouldn't mind but the same thing happens on sexsearch.com, exactly the same deal. But yesterday I even get instant messages in my inbox, but of course I can't do any of those fucking services without paying for the service, so I know real people are liking what they see. The age of free sex is dead. Bring back the days of picking up women in clubs, bars, on the street, on the buses even. I think I need to ditch private transport and seriously go back to public; all this solo travelling is killing my mojo.

Anyway, to circumvent this catastrophe of imbecilic women or bots, for we must not overlook such a possibility, I scoured Genuine for women in my area of all conceivable ages who like me are cheap skates and not full members and left some sort of contact details in their profile. Thinking about it, I don't think I did the 60 to 100 category. You never know they may well be some good pickings to be had. End of the day, it's the encounter that matters, ok fair enough to an extent anyway.

My will easily succumbed because by eleven thirty I was wheeling off emails to the first of my targets. It was a whole day job I’ll have you know. I must have stopped about 6, as I got a surprise call saying I could get a free blag for the football, and it resumed at around eleven when I got back, and I would have punched out after twelve, as I'd left my computer on, ready to be resumed at the very same point from whence it was interrupted. In all about ten emails went out. That is ten women of varying hues, ages and desires wanting to hook up with a guy. Well I am that guy, and of course my lack of modesty doesn't allow me to mention I am a very good looking guy, when I’ve had a shave and done my hair anyway. So the question is how many do you think of these people will reply? Answers on a postcard, because I reckon if one does then it's a miracle. Don't know why, I just think the whole thing is bullshit. We shall see of course. There were some lovelies though. One Japanese lady in particular caught my attention, got to say it, I am hot to the trot for these women. Actually as we on this point, any of you out there, are you single a Japanese woman, or know you know any single Japanese women, or you know a good place to track down single Japanese women, again please, answers on a postcard. The thought of it makes me want to go and check that email account again now. But no, last night whist being unable to sleep till at least three or four in the morning, I decided to take an amnesty from all unnecessary internet chatter, as my productivity has been way down for the last little while and i need to be getting on and doing shit.

Another thing, the heifer has been trying to chase me down as well. Every time I think of it, I cringe. I'm not returning her texts, not picking up her calls, but yet on msn she's asking me, "Am I still welcome round at yours?" Hell no girl, but to say it directly that felt like going a bit too far. So I casually ignored her. But then "?" after "?" pops up. I really wanted to say "girl, come on, you ain't dumb, put small and very large together and you get a match made in hell". Fair play to you guys that loving the big ladies; you got some schmaltz, on a one off you got to try these things, but beyond that, hell fucking no!

Alrite folks take care. Don't forget dialogue separates us from some type of something, so lets get down.

How Stupid Are They

by CKReporter @ 2008-01-17 – 14:50:58

Well it seems my profile on Genuine Swingers seems to be garnering a fair amount of attention. At the last count there are ten messages sitting in my inbox, all proclaiming that I get in touch with a promise that our contact can lead to wild and sensuous indulgences. Now in my profile, which contains a particularly attractive picture of oneself, there is a note, a disclaimer none the less, which says anybody reading said profile should read all of it. I thought that would be a nice obvious place to put it. In it, it states anybody who would like to contact me, should do so at a hotmail account, as I am a non-paying member who is unable to respond to mails from this website.

Low and behold not one of these females who have gone to all the effort of writing an email on the website have bothered to read my profile properly which would have more than likely gained a response to the contact they made. Now the obvious question that arises in my mind, is the one which asks are women who proclaim to needing a hard cock and have a predilection for a manifest nature of sexual desires and peccadilloes, are actually so eager in their haste to get their hands on a fine specimen as myself, that they can not control any rational ability to take on board what they have read. Now there is a possibility, no matter how remote, that these women may all suffer from acute attention disorder, dyslexia, or any manifest number of ailments which would prevent responding more directly, or, there is something decidedly fishy going on. The conclusion of which at this moment I am not completely certain. I have gone to the efforts of making it even more obvious how to contact me, so one waits with bated breath, to see how these so-called lusty wenches respond.

I should point out at this juncture that I did actually receive a response to one of my exploratory emails the other day. Only one though I should draw your attention to. This came from Mistress Stephanie. It seems our Mistress is a dominatrix of sorts. She tried to make it particularly clear that she is the one in control, and that I would be there solely for her pleasure, to use and abuse in her own way and time. Now I can see a particular attraction to such an arrangement. In her dictatorial way, as is her want I'm sure, Mistress went on to say how she would like to see me kneeling down in front of a picture of her, in her full gear with a pair of her panties in my mouth. Her orders went on to say, that I should get myself to climax then stop and imagine her standing in front of me, with one of her colleagues Mistress Katrina none the less holding a whip over my arse. Only then would I be allowed to come over those panties of hers. Again, a little bit different, but who said difference was a bad thing. As they say, I am game for a laugh, if nothing else. Then we come to the hitch, in order to continue with the possibility of such fun and games, I need to write to this mistress, enclosing a cheque to cover the cost of said panties which would be stuffed down my throat. I can understand this direction, but really should I go out of my way to pay for the undies of this young lady. An agreement I seem somewhat reluctant to reach. I think I will write to said Mistress, asking her to waive this cost on this occasion as the reward she will receive, in terms of myself, would be a small price worth paying.

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by CKReporter @ 2008-01-15 – 18:04:06

Friday evening turned out to be an interesting turn of events, more so for my inability to foresee any consequences which may come from my actions I hasten to add. I was invited to dinner at my old flat by its present incumbents. One of the two, before of which are female, asked if I could bring along a gentleman friend, somebody who may have been open to the possibility of a liaison with said individual. Scouring my mind for all of 5 seconds, I settled on the only one amongst my comrades who could be counted upon to offer a moment of indiscretion if the opportunity so arose. For he, as he is prone to point out, is a sex addict. A hoe, who feels the constant need to rake different gardens. Personally, I think the term addict may be overstated, but I can definitely attest to his need to satisfy such wanton urges.

Anyway, upon arrival for a delicious home cooked vegetarian Austrian meal, such things do actually exist, we were greeted by the pronouncement by the much louder and more gregarious of the two, that she had been sacked from her job that very afternoon. The reasons offered by her former employers was that she was not as welcoming, friendly and smiley as she could well have been. A stranger to this individual after spending a few minutes in her company could quite easily come to the same conclusion without prompting I’m sure. For although her heart may well be in the place it is meant to, she seems to possess a curious knack of saying or doing the thing which would fit least well any given moment.

Of course such an unexpected event would play upon the mind of any individual, regardless of ones love or loathing of the means by which one earned a wage. But as best as she could, she threw herself into the proceedings. Maybe I should also point out at this moment, that she had engaged in the odd vodka or two before she rushed home to prepare for the evenings spectacular. So the wine flowed and even sparkly at that, despite my recent decision to reframe from alcohol as a going concern. But as I had brought a bottle of wine with me, for no other reason than I thought it was rude to turn up with nothing, and a last-minute visit to Sainsbury’s had failed to deliver any delicious desserts, maybe subconsciously I was always intending to usurp my recent rules. We drank and we eat the three us of anyway, as my poor friend was unable to fully throw himself into bowls and plates of food which lacked any trace of a once breathing animal. But where he lacked an ability to consume he made up for it his attitude to converse. Laughter and merriment followed for all and sundry. Once the plates had been cleared, and the meal put to rest, we returned to a topic which had previously arose. The young ladies had mentioned they were going to embark on a trip to Amsterdam in the near future. Not completely knowledgeable of their attitude to such dalliances, my friend and I, probed cautiously to the nature of their visit. Yes they were intending to smoke and to inhale the wonderful assortments that the Dam had to offer. The more worldly of the two, had on occasion partook of the ritual when in her presence it had manifested and been passed around. But the other, was as they say, a virgin to such matters.

Low and behold some blow emerged from the pocket of my friend, for this was the other present he had brought them. As he rolled the spliff as only he can, I set about providing a lesson to the darker, more open, and attractive of the two. As we huddled and furtively spoke about the dynamics of good rolling, I considered who would have thought me as a landlord would be smoking with my tenants in the place I once called my home. The moment quickly came, when the virgin took her first puff, all the while asking, what she should be feeling, and then bemoaning that nothing was afoot. But as she inhaled, her face began to change; her laugh took on a different slant, as the effects of the smoke began to take hold. In my infinite wisdom I asked them if they had engaged in blow-backs before, the reasons for doing so I’m still not completely sure. But ask them I did. They, unsure of what I referred but were willing to enjoy. I did say it would be better if the two of them did it to each other, but as they were unsure what this entailed I did offer my services, as a smoker of experience. And so I inhaled as deep as I could, turned to the loud one, placed my lips to hers, and blew smoke in her mouth. As she was so adamant that nothing transferred from mine to hers, I repeated the ritual again. Again she cried fowl, and again I accommodated. All the while thinking, “You need to turn to the other, and engage her in this act”. For to do so would be a sign of equality and fairness and would limit the impact of such an intimate act. But no, the opportunity never arose, and the moment had passed, and the evening took on its own course, as the night drew to its close.

Until later, when my friend and I were alone, it was he who drew my attention to the signs that the loud one had engaged as means of communicating who her desires lay towards. In his eye, and a fair one at that, he believed it was I and not he, who she was most enamoured by. Once my eyes had been opened, it was pretty clear to see, but in most situations my naivety extends way beyond my years and experience, to usually leave me thinking “what the fuck”. So far no contact has been had, and I do feel a sense that equality was not had, for with that it becomes a question where the conclusion is a little bit easier to reach.

A Quiet Day on the Front

by CKReporter @ 2008-01-10 – 13:31:32

Still washing the residues of my heifer encounter from my memory. Now only occasionally when I close my eyes am I taken back to that moment, one which very quickly will be nothing more than a footnote of the life which is my own.

The Jap hasn't been in contact. The slim chance that she would have forgiven me for my lack of contact and responded to my recent text is all but at an end. Fair dues, couldn't really expect anything more really. Great memory to have though, and I truly wish her well, but I think that's a number that can leave my phone in the near future.

Nothing from BustyQueen too, not even the slightest bit of a nose. It was worth a try, but again like all the others where messages went out over the last week, not a dicky bird. Even those angels on FP ,women that could have been a lot more… hey getting all sentimental there for a moment. You've just come out of a relationship mate; another so soon really isn't the name of the game, even if those two women spoke volumes to me without saying a word.

And then onto the Little One, she's in pain, not just from our break-up, although that is a major one, but also from a death in the family. She had a go in a text saying that even though she said she was feeling low I didn't reach out and show any sense of understanding and loving. I thought ending a relationship was about bringing all that to an end. That's the short answer of course; life is a lot more complicated than that. But when we finished she did say she didn't want to be friends or anything, something which I have tried to maintain with my last few, and that she just wanted to call it a day and end it. Texting me saying your hurting surely isn't that. I know I have my problems with empathy and understanding, that is a given, and something which is an on going project, but giving mixed messages is a fucker. Then I get a text having a little pop at that and telling me her relative died, I send one back saying I'm really sorry and I'm here if you need anything blah blah. I then get another full of vitriol saying I've got no idea of how to have a relationship and I never loved her and all the rest of it. All I could think of was "bitch", I understand that you are hurt about both things, but being nasty isn't going to achieve anything. Especially for someone who is so the opposite of that, i.e. me. But I really felt like having a go back at here, laying the reality of what has happened in terms of my past relationships and all the rest of it. But really what the fuck is the point?

Before all of this, I was actually going to put a mail together telling her what she meant in my life, but if someone's got it on your mind, your bastard, then you are one. It's a tag I was struggling with for a while, and for the last 7 years or so , I was doing pretty well. I was into my second serious relationship where I had been faithful, and the idea of not, wasn't in my head. But then she shows up, and bam, I revert to the cunt that I was. Sleeping around, eluding the truth. I didn't plan any of it. Granted I wasn't happy in my relationship, and I was on the road to ending it, but what happened between me and her wasn't on the agenda. And then all of a sudden, I’m the bad guy again. It doesn't so much hurt, but when people think they listen to you, and understand the person you are, take that and eschew it to meet their own idea of what you are, that is fucking annoying. And to be honest that it was what I am. Fucking Annoyed. But the grown up thing is just to try and let it go. What do you reckon?

Be Careful What You Wish For

by CKReporter @ 2008-01-09 – 14:50:26

Yesterday afternoon I'm sitting there trying to do some work. Get a call on me mobey, private number, fair enough could be some work I'm thinking. A sultry voice, "Hey you" she says. Takes me off guard, is this one of my female friends trying to wind me up? Or one of those babes who I've recently been trying to spin my web with in the last few days. "Do I know who this is?" she says. Fuck knows I'm thinking, umm, but that voice, it would melt chocolate I'm sure. It turns out it's that Indian bird who dropped me a line in the wee hours of Saturday morning when I was on MSN looking to get my rocks off. But if I'm not mistaken, at the time she's going "I'm not looking for play, just something a little more serious". As I said before, that's fair enough, but that ain't what I'm after!

We end up having a bit of a salacious conversation. She' telling me she's got a raving heat on, and how I sound this that and the other. So I start getting her a little hot under the collar, do this for me baby, do that, as she's lying in bed with de nada on. Then she's like "oh baby you sound so hot, I could really come and meet you" and all this bollocks. So I'm like come on down girl, we'll do this; I'll lick you here, type vibe. She's asking me, what I want her to wear when she comes down. I'm like boots, stockings, crouch-less panties, bodice, with just a coat on over all that. Of course she loves it doesn't she. But she's like oh "I want to meet in some public place to make sure you're not some ass murderer" and shit like that. I'm like "girl, you fucking phoned me, let’s cut out the middle man and get straight to the main course." After a bit of persuasion, not much I'll have you know, she agrees, saying she just needs to eat shower blah blah.

Anyway, couple of hours later, car pulls up by my gate. See her, OK; I remember who you are now. She gets out, big girl, not a problem been there before, not the end off. I catch a glimpse underneath the coat there ain't many clothes going on. How easy it is to get a woman to do what you want them to do? Comes into my place, has a nose around. Comes and sits on my breakfast bar in my kitchen. A little bit of small talk. Then "A real gentleman would ask to take a ladies coat". I'm thinking "Ain't no gentlemen here love" but I know now it's games on." Start at the top, one button at a time. Take the belt off, all the way down. Take her coat off, "Oh my God". This girl is fucking luge, not huge, fucking luge mate. Her tities are popping out of her bodice, but the rolls of fat are lying over her legs, and one of those legs is the size of both of mine. "What the fuck?" I've done big, but this is surely taking the piss. But hey those tities quickly distract me from that thought.

Undo that bodice, “pur-choy”, her tities ooze over her belly crying "freedoooom". I'm a licking, a groping, a sucking, oh yeah baby, what did I say about me and tities. Wheel her over to the sofa, she lies down. For a moment a lump comes up in my throat. It ain't like face wise she's unattractive. OK I would say when those specs come off. But lying there in her boots, her stockings and pants, sorry, but she looks like a beached whale. And that ain't no joke. The first wave of “I'm not feeling this” comes over me. But hey dive into those melons and I'm lost again. Whip off her pants, she's already wet me amigo, my fingers are a sliding, my head gets buried between those huge thighs which I struggle to get over my shoulders. Taste is OK, not to salty or fishy thank fuck, and otherwise she would have been out the door there and then. I have bouts of getting into it, and then all of a sudden when I catch a glimpse of a ream of fat overhanging somewhere, I feel a sense of nausea.

Take her to the bedroom, thinking getting down to it may help. But when she stands, the body shape is all wrong. The ass is big as my back for fucks sake. The cellulite, the bird is far from a bird, more like a hippo. What the fuck am I doing? Lie her down on the bed, poor thing takes a breath unsure to make of what’s going on. Start on the licking again, she's doing me as well. But now it sets in. I do not want to fucking do this girl. More than anything else it is most probably a fucking human impossibility. I'm trying, but my dick is in that limbo land of not knowing whether it wants to get hard, or whether it wants to curl up in front of the TV. I try; I force myself, come on son, and think about the tities. I try, I try. Quick, it's hard, whip a condom on. I knew that was my downfall. See I don't use them, maybe like twice in my life before. I am without a doubt a natural born bare-back rider. True fortune has definitely smiled down on me when it comes to remaining healthy, but I'm thinking in this age. Really I got to do it. With this broad, the choice is, well there is no choice. Slip it on; my cock goes into shock feeling this foreign rubber substance up against it. It definitely wants to watch TV. Try and get cocky hard, ain't happening, rubbing up her, some part of her I'm sure, could just have been fat, but boyo definitely ain’t having it. She tries, squeezing and tugging, that only makes him more nervous. I'm like fuck lets try it the way it’s meant to be. But that thought quickly slips back out of my mind. She goes for it again, all hands to the cock, finally it gets hard, but I can feel the juice wants to get out, it wants nothing to do with this scenario. Another Jimmy goes on, slip it inside her, oh what I sight, am I really going to fuck this heifer. Its there, hell no, cocky and juicy decide this is one game they are happy to loose, my load pumps into this rubber manifestation, an abomination against man kind. But at least its over, well not quite there's the cuddling, talking bollocks, she lies on me like a "teddy-bear" she says. I swear this girl is twice the size of me. Never fucking again son, if it is, you people out there have the right to call me a cunt. Even those tities are not reprieve enough.

Going Back, Back Into Time

by CKReporter @ 2008-01-08 – 14:05:53

Couldn't resist the temptation, dropped "The Jap" a text to see if she fancied getting together for a drink, a euphemism obviously, "sometime soon". The last time I actually saw her must be around last May when I got back from a brief high intensity shopping spree in New York. I brought her back a little T-shirt alongside one for "The Swede", who had been my long-term, but things were in a grey area as I tried to disentangle myself from any serious liaisons with her, as I'd been whacking both "The Jap" and the "Little One", plus "The Swede" at the same time. For a while things were complicated. Yes, I know I was a C-U-N-T, but I was a cunt enjoying sexual liaisons with women from three different continents. Again, such thing things play just right into the male ego.

Now's not the time for explaining the ins and outs of that particular time, that can wait. It's just I felt bad all that time that I never contacted The Jap. After all she really didn't do anything to warrant an absence of contact on my part. She was young, sweet and innocent, all the things you can imagine a Japanese woman to be. But she got attached to me, and at the time with the way things were, that added attachment was something that was never going to have to much legs. She was a tiny thing, petite really, so easy to put in whatever way you wanted, just like "Little One" really. But unlike her, once you peeled those clothes off, there was definitely a chest which was worth all the non-pronouncements of truth which were going on. If you haven't caught on already, I love tities. Looking at them, feeling them, sucking on them, heaven is a place of a thousand big tited virgins. I prefer those surprise packages, the ones where you're not expecting what you get. When that final item of clothing comes off, and it's like "damn", that's a good feeling. And that's what I had with the Jap, they were gorgeous, and on top of that the sex was pretty damn alright as well.

That takes me onto more recent titie girls. There's Cinders my first meet from FP. That was a few weeks before the season of good joy. The second night after chatting on FP, she was like yeah "I'm coming back from Manchester", where she'd been on some course, "and I want to see you". Of course I'm still seeing Little One at this time, but I know there has been way to much shit that's pasted between us to really move forward in a positive way, so it's only a question of time before it has to be called a day. And of course Cinders lives in my neck of the woods, again, when shit happens you got to roll with it. I went to meet this girl on the corner of her road. When you see pictures of her on her profile, I'm thinking mixed race or light skinned black woman. When I pull up, what's greeting me? Some pale-skinned broken-ass nosed girl stepping into my motor. I wanted to say "What the Fuck?", but then I realised, I'd just gone to the trouble of purchasing some jim-jams, maybe only the second time in my life that I have, so might as well put the fucking things to use. And at five pound something a pop, there isn’t no sense in wasting them. If you got to work it out, let me explain, as well as being a dirty ass bastard all my adult life, well as soon as I knew what sex was all about, I've also been one who never believed in rubber protection. And for whatever reason, I've managed to get to this age, without a single disease threatening that. Although four washed away little ones is the flip side of that, but for somebody who never wanted kids it's a negligible pay-off.

The long and short of it is, me and this girl, she turns out to be Greek who comes up a nice shade of brown in the sun, don't do nothing. But as our next couple of meetings end with me staying over, and some ensuing kissy kissy, feely feely, licky licky goes on, I discover she has got a huge set of tities son. Like two hand-full jobs, so that provides enough entertainment for a period. But after a while with Christmas coming up I don't bother check her, cos you just know she's one of these needy ass girls, with all kinds of shit going on, and plus I got to keep Little One sweet during this time.

So yesterday after two and a bit weeks of leaving it, I drop Cinders a line, and she’s like "Shit's going on, I could do with a massage and a friend". Now that I and Little One have properly called it a day, I ain't looking to get involved in nothing to heavy, unless we talking some super hot shit, you know the MZ or SweetJanes of this world. And I'm afraid Cinders certainly aint that. But you know in this world, big tities go a long way in my book. And if it wasn't for the blasted cold in my yard, and in hers, her heating ain't working either, I'm gonna have to get with those massive melons sometime soon. Cos you know good tities is a hell of a thing to waste.

Ain't heard nuthing from Busty Queen as well. Bitch. Why put your number up on a site if you ain't responding to shit. Stupid ass girl. Now she takes tities to a whole different level.

What the Fuck?

by CKReporter @ 2008-01-07 – 14:35:37

Being the proud, desperate horny fucker that I am, I couldn't resist seeing if those lovely ladies on FP would have logged on to their accounts and had an opportunity to see my sultry salutations from Saturday. I searched the member profiles, scanning for those pictures which spoke to me so loudly in the wee hours that day. I came across them both. Mzangelique to start with, ah, those pics, those tits, fuck, that girl is something else. Checked her last log on, fuck, a few hours before I sent that message. In her case maybe all is not lost. Then the other, Sweetjanes, somehow the name doesn't seem to match what I thought the first time I laid eyes on those snaps. But as you look at them, oh there is definitely something deep and special floating beneath the surface. But what the fuck do I see, she fucking logged in yesterday, and she didn't fucking reply. Is she fucking mental or something? Looking at the comments from the other guys who have seemingly fallen under her spell, they all seem like pretty straight white fuckers. Is that her taste? Does she not swing with the brothers with colour? Patience I guess. Fuck patience though, could reach out and spoke the stupid ass bitch! Not responding to me, she got to be a crazy ass girl.

Then a thought, more so a recollection really came across my mind. The few women I've actually bothered to send messages to, granted, what there has been have mainly been of the, "yeah if you want some black cocky" kind, but there has been the odd, "you are really lovely, there is something about you", blah blah, bullshit, bullshit ones, neither has garnered any fucking response whatsoever. What the fuck am I wrong, maybe I need more in my profile than a pic, and the words "fit, fit, fit". Whatever it is, it isn’t fucking working. And that bitch was hot as well.

A place to Start

by CKReporter @ 2008-01-06 – 19:29:42

I ended up till 4 or so in the morning typing away, searching for something, the thing which would have served that sexual desire which needed so desperately to be served. Originally it started as just a means to keep the cold from my bones as I have been relegated to my bedroom with its wonderful array of quilts which tries to keep me warm as my heating has decided to act up again. Finding myself wrapped up in bed by 9:30 the idea of watching TV didn't appeal. From checking email it progressed to logging onto FP. But this time as opposed to heading straight for the chat rooms, I went about systematically searching for a woman which actually appealed to my ideal of what a woman should be. Right now that is decidedly someone of colour. My taste for women with an absence of melanin has definitely fallen to the wayside, unless we are talking No Strings Attached sex of course. Regardless what most men say the allure of a sexual encounter where you can walk away with no comeback with a woman no matter how unattractive or unappealing she may normally be is something that most of us would find hard to turn down.

A few definite possibilities emerged. I shot of some emails singing my virtues in a downplayed way. Not trying to come on to strong or desperate, but definitely not to uninterested either. Their names escape me for the time being. But there were two who stand out particularly. One of Arabic descent with wonderful pouty lips, cock sucking lips in fact, and an ample bosom which would have provided hours of fun I'm sure. The other was different. She was a photographer or a wannabe at least. But in those shots of her, there was something from her inner self that shone through. A thing that touches a man like me. Innerness, a loving soul, a spirit which spoke to me when I looked into those eyes of hers. Will she respond? I don't know, will any of them have caught something in me which speaks to them? We'll see.

But during this search, I stumbled across something which is more up my street. A girl proclaiming her dire need for sex, pointed to a swinging site which she had joined. With little thought I signed up, added my details and even a reasonably life-like picture. Nothing to fruity just a slightly blurry shot of me at a party a few years back. In fact it's the same one that is on FP.

I signed up and left a contact email address not so subtlety hidden in my profile. What's the point of paying for contacts if there is a chance of getting them free?! I came across four I think, women who had the same idea. Spelling out their email addresses within their profiles, I even came across one who left their phone number. Bustyqueen was her handle, and did she have some handles on her, down to her knees when she bent over in fact if the picture is anything to go by. But she lives in East London, just worried if I contact her she could be a cousin or something. But with tits like that I'm prepared to give it a go.

After all the sending of emails, there was still an itch that still hadn't been scratched. I logged onto MSN to see which of those vulnerable women I could con into talking dirty with me. Some Asian bird said “hi”, but when the conversation came round to what we want, we were definitely looking at different versions of the story. So she just wants to be "friends", like I need a large Indian woman for a mate! Then Beth, good old dirty Beth dropped me a line. She is like "is the video finished yet?" I don’t know what this girl is under, whether she is serious or just fucking around, but she wants cock videos desperately. See the thing is, she doesn't live to far from me, so I'm thinking if I give her what she wants she's gonna give me some play. The other day I filmed a wank for her on my cam phone. But the quality is so shit and it's bloody long. So I tell her I'll edit it down for her. I spend time sorting it out for her, ding it over to her, and all she can say is, "It's awful!" Bitch. Then bosch, she's gone, leaving me looking like a C-U-N-T. Can't see the point of even trying to get anywhere with that silly ass girl.

After all that I end up back on FP, back into the "blackguy4whitegal" room. Thinking, or should I say hoping some poor skag is desperate enough to respond to a PM from some stranger. Of course I find a mark, which was very responsive, but of course the fucker lives in Birmingham. I start teasing with a little dip down the dirty well, and she responds in kind. I'm like yer, "I'll drive up", and to be honest she's pretty responsive. But her kid waves up, so she has to shoot, but she's like, "yer, come on MSN tomorrow and we'll chat". Again would I fucking be arsed, I'm not one for cultivating urges. If I've got one it needs to be acted on, period. Anything else is just going down the road of working hard for some shit I don't really want, and that honestly, is a fucking waste of time.