Quaintrelle – New FWB, new words and breaking of droughts.

So yesterday I had a date of sorts. With someone I met off OKC. The first date I’ve been on since I got back from the States and post break up with Loki.

We’d chatted a while but we never really got to the point of meeting before until I messeged him last week asking how he was as he’d been quiet for a while and being the gentle soul that I am was worried. He said he was good and that he was glad he heard from me. He gave me his number and said to message him on there. Done deal, we talked a bit, we sexted a bit, he thought my denial of wanting cock pictures was interesting – instead I had him send me pictures that engaged my mind. Half glimpses, moulds, curves in pants. It gets me hotter than a cock shot let me tell you. Coupled with his teasing me over messages made for an interesting few days leading up to our date.

He asked if I was serious about all the sexting talking. Did I put out on the first date? I laughed. Usually no, no I don’t. But we aren’t dating to become long-term lovers and build a partnership together. We were meeting for me to judge him in regards to him being a FWB. Entirely different ballgame! But I said that I didn’t usually, however to be fair, there were a few men that figured out my buttons pretty early and I may have ended up jumping their bones. But usually no, it waits for the 3rd date or more.

We’d gone over the ins and outs of what we were wanting and expecting. I was clear that I was only after a FWB thing. I don’t have the emotional capacity to offer more at this point in my life. He said that’s good because that’s all he can pretty much offer too.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. I was so nervous I was at the point of sitting hugging the toilet bowl because I was going to throw up.

For some reason my nerves are never based on how attractive a person is, it’s how much they’ve engaged my brain, I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m very much a sapiosexual right? Well I am. And this guy engaged my brain, he was smart, articulate and was finding buttons that made me a panting wet mess within 5 seconds with just words in a text message. Granted I’ll also affix some blame here to someone sending me other pictures via email that also added to my highly aroused state the day before but that’s another story.

So while I stood pacing around the house like a caged lion, my house mate laughed at my nerves and when our security buzzer went off I flapped at it for 3 rings before picking it up and letting him into the building, I didn’t even get out anything more than a hello and I’ll open the door then hung up. I forgot to say “wait I’ll come down and get you” or “don’t get lost in the garage”. I squawked at the buzzer I’d just hung up and rushed off to go save him. Yes, my housemate was still at the dryer laughing at my antics.

I ran downstairs to save him from our car park of hell and brought him up so I could grab my wallet and keys so we could head out to get coffee.

We went to my local and sat down and talked. And talked. And talked. At least we didn’t run out of things to say. He termed me as a quaintrelle. I admit I had no idea what he was gibbering about so I had to look it up on my phone. Thanks google!


I thought it was sweet of him to say – I try to be, some days I succeed, other days I fail miserably. But I figure that’s life right?

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How to piss me off in 1 easy step

  1. Be a bigoted asshole who tells me that I need counseling because I believe in having open relationships and because I’m kinky. And that being kinky means that I’m after 5 minutes of fun as opposed to a serious stable relationship – and apparently it also makes me someone who only fools around.

I’d say kiss my butt, but my butt’s too good for him.


He didn’t know what hit him.

Well he did. It was my astonishingly impressive and formidable vocabulary and expressive and articulate response.

Hope it felt like a brick.

I haven’t dated one single person since my last relationship. This says something about the quality of men out there than it does about my lack of patience.

Also that I don’t really mind being single, it gives me time to focus on myself and enjoy my life. I think a  lot of men are surprised by this. At least that’s the impression I’m getting. I don’t need a man. It throws them a bit. It confuses them and I would hope that one day I’ll meet a man who it challenges enough to not send me a picture of his penis and expect me to swoon at his feet.

Unless he’s James Deen. Or Jason Momoa. Then I might swoon.

On another note, the moving to South America and opening a cat orphanage is looking better by the minute.


Brunch, ben wa balls, butt plugs and girl on girl beginnings…

There comes a time in everyone’s life… well ok, maybe not.

But there’s always a time in mine when I get asked such random questions that I often don’t see them coming and end up doing this…


One of my girlfriends called me up one day to advise that some her kinky friends are coming up from our nations capital and she had some unexpected work pop up, so would I mind being hostess to them while they were in Sydney for a night? She says they are a married couple and really lovely people. I say sure, why not. I don’t have anything on that night so it seemed like a good idea.

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New Years Resolutions aka The Craycray Idea Period

What is it with new year resolutions and insanity?

Obviously I have to be insane. I’ve been thinking today about a new years resolution. When will I learn thinking is never a good idea? Anyway. Back to the point. This thought might be one that might change my entire being. Well, sort of. I envisage epiphanies.

Or at least furniture humping.

I have no doubt y’all remember the sexual denial dodad that I thought would be a fantastic idea. Well, now that my stupid hitachi is broken and I’m never getting a new one at this rate because China is opposed to me ever masturbating with a mains powered sex toy ever again, I’ve thought long and hard (about 10 minutes) and decided that abstaining from anything sexual at all might be an interesting experiment.

So come new years day I will stop masturbating as well. Not only am I going to be dreaming about sex, I won’t even get to have a rub while I’m dreaming about it. Good bye my firemen, ambulance guys, rugby team and the military tattoo of Edinburgh fantasies…


Hello no orgasms for at least a month.


I have no bloody idea. I dare say I’ll regain my sanity tomorrow and decide that this was some stupidly horrid nightmare and have a wank-a-thon for a few hours at least.

However now that I’ve put it down here I can’t. So come January the 1st, this little horny devil will be putting down all the sex toys to withdraw from sexual stimulation for a month at least. That’s 4 weeks. 4 fucking weeks. I must have hit my head while I was sleeping.

For someone who masturbates daily (or a few times a day) this is going to be a challenge.

It will take my mind off the fact that I will be travelling to America in 2 months. 2 months!

And it will mean that my vajayjay will be screaming obscenities at me while I abstain. And pant after all the hot uniforms I see between January 1st and when ever it is that I’ll be getting laid.

Which should be about, oh, say the 17th of February.