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Is it too early to talk about cunnilingus?

It probably is, because look, we barely know each other.  I've only been blogging for a few days.

But, if we do somehow end up naked together, there's a chance it could happen, sooner rather than later.

Because, er, I like you.  And you like me.  That's how we got here.  And I'm turned on by you, and I want you to be turned on by me.  And the state of awkwardness peculiar only to those who have removed their undergarments in the horn-infested presence of another for the first time is mutual, so why don't I* take a lead here?

*Unless you've really got a frisk on and have already set the pace, so to speak.  I'm easy like that.  If we're already en le frottage, then let's be comfortable with each other.  I'll roll with it.  What goes around comes around, etc.

Michael Douglas probably wouldn't approve.  But then I worry if I wear a cotton v-neck, in case people think I'm copying his style.  Which of course I may be, subliminally.  Is this my anxiety or do I have genuine reason to question my fashion sense?  Mind back on track, BumblingD.  You haven't got any clothes on.  FFS. And you're already priapic, so let's hold things back just in case five decades on earth doesn't bless you with instant penile resurrection, like when you were 20.  Although it probably will.  Because everything works OK when you don't think about it.  Right?  It's all in your brain.   SHUT UP, BRAIN!

Anyway.  Dining at the Y.  Munching the rug. It's always a journey into the unknown.  It's shockingly intimate, delightfully tingly, and occasionally an alarming introduction to the personal hygiene and pubic topiary choices of one's partner.

I recently broke up with "the one".  I'm still broken-hearted about it.  Not least because one of the very many fabulous things about her was the deliciousness of her, er, front bottom.  An area so manicured and carefully tended that it deserves an entry into next year's Chelsea Flower Show, where it would no doubt sweep the board in mimsy rosettes.

Contrast this with the only date I've ended up naked on since we parted.  A lady so keen to explore and be explored that she had me up the stairs and into her flat before I could even get her to sign the triplicate consent forms I carry with me in case of such an eventuality.

A lady who, not to put too fine a point on it, didn't wipe properly.

One can forgive the tang of recently passed urine.  It's one of the occupational hazards of the geography, where function and pleasure are next door neighbours.  It's harder, however, to overcome a fragrance more akin to the toilet on an overcrowded and much-delayed Pendolino train, together with a vista flecked with specks of toilet paper that clearly had no claims to strength even while still on the roll.  Jeremy Corbyn wouldn't have sat on the floor next to this one.

Naturally, it's not the done thing to emerge blinking, gagging and in search of a damp flannel to prep the area to a state that Kim & Aggie would approve of.  But it's not half tempting sometimes.

Similarly, a couple of past girlfriends, both blondes, preferred a fairly close level of trimmage.  Easy on the eye, more challenging on the chin.  Time spent down below could be rewarded not just with shuddering orgasms, but a face that felt as though it had been dragged through a field of corn stubble; the telltale signs of which could only be explained away in the office as shaving rash.  Which is pushing credibility, as I have a beard.

I've also spent time in the jungle.  Not with Ant and Dec, or even just Dec, as it is these days, but with a delightful and dark-haired girl who was exploiting her prerogative not to be overfamiliar with the products of Mr Gillette.  There's something splendidly soft about a luxuriant 70's-style lady garden, despite the need for delicate strand separation in order to ensure contact with the correct target area rather than just the general vicinity.  But where use of machete or napalm is frowned upon, additional focus and effort can be necessary.  As can a good floss the following morning.

I've shied away from telling any of the really salacious stories.  Perhaps another day, when we know each other a little better.  For now, I need to go and attend to my own merkin, lest I have some unlucky girl's eye out.


  1. I’m not a blog fan. In fact, I’d rather read an old telephone directory from cover to cover if I wanted to read some dry & joyless writing. I’m a kinda scan-em-and-leave-em type of girl with blogs so imagine my surprise when I found myself with a spare 10 minutes to eat my lacklustre shop bought sandwiches al-desko for lunch & stumbled across your blog (thanks for the follow ;o) by the way). You Sir, have reached the very pinnacle of blogging called the ‘sweet-spot’ – the point where you make the reader stop, read & actually interact with the author by leaving a comment! (I’m a blog-commenting-virgin….so please be gentle with me). I was entertained from the get-go with your attention grabbing humour and especially the language/words used, it sent me in a tailspin and I was so captivated that I completely forgot I was at my desk & kept exploding into fits of laughter, much to my colleagues pique as to what was making me disrupt the otherwise silent office. So thank you! I’m now a blog fan (of yours)…and there’s no one more surprised than me. Keep on writing with humour and intellect like you do :o)

  2. I originally replied on Twitter (@BumblingD) before realising that there is every chance you haven't seen it. Thanks so much.

    I don't know who you are, but you made me happier than I have any right to be. Hammering this stuff out at midnight is basically for me, but I'm thrilled that other people get it too. Thank you

    1. No I didn't see your original reply, you follow me but I don't follow you, so missed it. I'm glad my comment made you happy, it was totally deserved for this piece. Alas, my latest comment on another one of your blog pieces may change your opinion, however, honesty is important to me.

    2. And I have accidentally deleted it, because I thought I was looking at it under this post. Sorry, genuine admin fuck up. Please feel free to post it again. It was lucid and reasoned and had some validity. I'm not going to argue my case extensively here, but I'm sorry you thought it was a cheap laugh. It certainly wasn't meant as such; rather an observation on the need for honesty when embarking on a new date. Thank you for both reading and commenting. It's actually an older post, by the way. You'll find the chronological set under the "Archive" tab at the top right.

    3. You’ll forgive me if I’m a little sceptical about you deleting my comment under your other piece as a ‘genuine admin fuck up’. It was indeed lucid, reasoned and had complete validity in regard to the specific post; there was nothing malicious or personal in my comment, it was more constructive in feedback of my observations after reading your piece.

      What is interesting to observe, however, is that when you received my first positive feedback you were the first one to publicly tweet a screenshot of it to your followers yet when you receive feedback that wasn’t so gushing and positive you accidentally delete it. It could be a complete coincidence of course. The feedback was just to make you think about being more mindful of what you write in future, especially with regard to the context and intent of the people you write about. As a blogger, when you put yourself out there with your stories you have to accept the good feedback with the not-so-good feedback from your audience however, this perhaps isn’t the right vehicle to have this conversation with you.

      Thanks for the ‘tip’ about your chronological order posts, I’m going pass thank you. I will ‘feel free’ to repost my original comment because it raised some very valid points about discrimination that your audience may find informative and depending on your narcissistic tendencies we’ll see how long it stays published. I wish you well with the blog.

    4. I'm glad you reposted your original comment in the "Headshots" thread. My deletion of it was a genuine mistake, because I thought it was a duplicate post.

      As you say, here is perhaps not the right vehicle. Following somebody on Twitter doesn't necessarily indicate agreement, and my DMs are open. And thanks.

  3. So a question for you. I'm back in the saddle so to say after a break-up a month ago. So far I've been with two men, none have ventured down there. I mean how do I accomplish this? Is this not something people do? Also I'd like to know what I should do about the state of my errr front bottom. I did the whole laser hair thing a few years ago and it worked wonderfully everywhere accept the errr front bottom. So there's hair but it's not full and lush like it used to be because laser you know but it seems so teeny bopper to get rid of it. It's ermmm sporadic. Your thoughts oh wise one.

  4. Whatever makes you happy, 50+ Ladeee. If you're comfortable enough getting naked with someone, the details tend not to matter so much, Unless unwashed, obvs.


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