Author: Innocent Loverboy (Page 19 of 31)

TMI Tuesday: Savour

February 22, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 0 Comments

Say I love you, girl, but I’m out of time
Say I’m there for you, but I’m out of time
Say that I’ll care for you, but I’m out of time
Said, I’m too late to make you mine, out of time

Attractive curly-haired black lady eating a cupcake and looking like she is thoroughly enjoying it. — An appropriate picture since I’m the King of Cake.

Wow, okay, it has been a while since I did a blog post.

Time has not been on my side. I have spent two weeks caring for a fiancée with incredibly debilitating COVID-19 (worse than when I had it; I just slept most of mine off). The art project I’ve been doing has been pretty stop-start as a result of this, and although it started well, I genuinely don’t think I’m going to finish it before the deadline. I’m also still looking for a job and, every now and again, have a trial day somewhere that fails, or get given a start date somewhere that ghosts me.

I genuinely want to blog – it’s one of my favourite things to do, even here partway through year fifteen. However, with everything going on at the moment (even though it seems like I have a lot of free time, I genuinely don’t), blogging has had to fall on the back burner.

It’s fitting, then, that one of the few snatches of time I’ve got to knock out a post is on a Tuesday, when there’s a handy meme to get the fires burning. I don’t know if there’s a theme with this one (it appears to be “savour”, as evidenced by the image), but it genuinely allowed me to get my geek on.

1. What did you last savour and when?

Three Batman-themed OREOs. Just now.

OK, I will explain. There are now OREOs with Batman’s face on them, to tie in with the upcoming release of The Batman. They don’t actually taste any different from normal OREOs, nor do they cost more. But I am a gullible fool, and yesterday I was having a Batman marathon thanks to a box set I got for Christmas, so in the evening I saw a pack and bought it.

J'onn J'onzz sitting in a chair holding a glass of milk surrounded by OREO cookies. — J’onn and his one true love.

I’m still not going to get over the fact that they’ve never made Martian Manhunter OREOs. I mean, he’s the superhero who actually manages to savour them.

2. Athletic, mind-blowing sex or slow, sexy romantic sex, what do you want right now?

Can’t slow, romantic sex also be mind-blowing?

In any case, having not had sex for about six or seven years now, any type of sex would be good for me. I’ve put on a bit of weight and lost the use of my left arm since, though, so I’d be a little nervous about not being that good any more!

(Is my excuse, anyway. I’d probably just get her to orgasm via oral and then see what happens.)

3. You are being interviewed and asked to comment on sex work. What do you have to add to the discussion?

Nothing that hasn’t already been said, although I have plenty to say about sex work.

I was once stopped by a madam in Soho who offered me girls, and when I politely declined, boys. She also said that I didn’t actually have to have sex – she could offer massages with or without happy endings to savour – but I again politely said no, thank you, I was in a bit of a hurry anyway, but thanks for thinking of me.

I couldn’t fault her sales patter – offering viable alternatives according to the customer’s needs – but I think she was as surprised as I was that I stopped to talk to her!

4. Should sex work be decriminalised?

Yes, and it should have been already.

I’m astounded that it hasn’t been. From what I can tell, criminalisation is dangerous, the Nordic Model is overly regulated, and because there are so many different types of sex work (full-service isn’t the only type – do you count a porn star or an erotic masseuse as a sex worker?), it would be impossible to introduce a law to protect them all.

Decriminalisation is the only way, and it’s only really because of the social stigma that this hasn’t been given a higher agenda. I’m saying this now: if I ever become an MP, it’s the first thing I’m mentioning.

5. Fill in the blank. Don’t…

…throw fruit at the computer.
Don’t what?
Don’t throw fruit at the computer.
Don’t what?
Don’t throw fruit at the computer.

Who do they think I am? Some kind of fool?

(If you know what this is, I love you.)

Bonus: Are you bored with people who are successful and unhappy? Why?

No; people who are successful and unhappy are fascinating. It’s interesting to see exactly why people can be emotionally down when economically up, and it’s also a refreshing antithesis to the “greed is good” philosophy of the ’80s and the already-rich silver-spoon élitism of the Tories.

I’m more bored with those who are successful and happy, or even worse, successful and smug about it. Even if (and this is overall not the case) they have actually worked for it, the way they overtly savour their wealth is sickening.

Of course, a lot of the most interesting people I don’t know have no idea what they want to do with their life. There are a lot of cultural riches to be found within the average Joe, and so many more than you will find behind the vacuous smile of someone so often in the spotlight.

You, I Love

February 14, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 1 Comment

As much as I’d like to say so, I can’t – and never have been able to – hate Valentine’s Day. I never quite got the vibe as a single teenager (or single young adult, if you are counting 18-23 as being anything else), in particular seeing websites and magazines continuously saying it was the perfect day to pull, but never being able to pull myself.

I’ve never managed to pull. I don’t even know how to attempt it.

Since I was a very young person, though, I’ve been fond of the phrase “I love you”. It’s very simple, three syllables, but it carries so much weight. I like to use it as much as I can, and even when I was five, I wrote a song based on what I’d heard on Top of the Pops:

Ooh, I love you, baby
But only when you’re singin’ true (ooh-ooh-ooh)
Singin’ true
Is just for me and you…
“singin’ true”, 1990

As a single teenager, I said it a lot as well. Usually choked out through a veil of tears in paroxysms of grief, but I said it. At one point I stood at the edge of an echoey valley and shouted it at maximum volume with the idea that the girl I was saying it to would hear somehow.

Sometimes, with the pretence that I was writing artful poetry an an excuse, I’d write it. I was a fairly angsty poet, for sure, but I very much liked to make a declaration of love:

You are agony,
Yet the agony you bring I have to endure.
If I’ve decided that I love you
Then I have to face the consequences.
“The Pleasure of Agony” (1999)

My first girlfriend didn’t like to say it. She was of the opinion that it was “a bit overdone”, whereas I was always fond of saying it to her. If American sitcoms are to be believed, some couples don’t say it at all, and I made a point of doing so. And in my second, and third, relationships, it was always something I’d say – first thing in the morning, and last thing at night.

When I was single, I used to say it every Valentine’s anyway. Me being me, I would have had a crush on at least one person on every occasion, and they’d be who I said it to. Not out loud, of course, but by myself in a corner somewhere. I felt it a little cathartic to say “I love you”, even if they’d never know or care.

Having someone to tell you love them makes it all somewhat different.

Sometimes I feel like I can’t tell my fiancée I love them enough. I say it a lot – sometimes it’s a simple text; sometimes it’s every other sentence – but I can’t get enough of saying it. I feel love for them, I do love them, but I can’t ever feel like I say it enough. I could say it ∞ times, but it still wouldn’t quite express how much I want to say it.

So today I kept a tally.

Today, I have told them that I love them eighteen times, and every time I meant it. By the end of the day, it will probably reach about twenty or twenty-five (I’ll update this post when I reach a final total!). But I’ll keep saying it. I like saying it. I can’t tell them enough. And, of course, I like to hear it back.

[UPDATE: 27! More than I had predicted, helped a lot by us ending up batting the word “love” back and forth just before bed.]

And, gentle reader, I love you too.

Okay?

February 10, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 1 Comment

[11:00 pm.]

ILB: “Huh. Huh. Huh. Huh. Huuuu…”
JS: (off, from bedroom) “Are you okay?”
ILB: (from sofa) “Yesss…”
JS: “Are you sure you’re okay?”
ILB: “Yes, I’m sure, I’m…”

[Pause. ILB orgasms violently, a string of cum shooting from the tip of his throbbing penis. It lands on his supine body, leaving a continuous trail from his shoulder down to his belly.]

ILB: “Uh…”
JS: “Are you okay?!”
ILB: “Yes, I’m good!”

[ILB hauls himself from his position and gropes for the tissues. There is a lot to clean up. He starts wiping, both impressed and appalled by how much there is.]

JS: “You’re good?”
ILB: “I’m good!”

[Quiet. JS has gone to sleep. ILB crawls under the heavy duvet he has brought to the sofa. He gives a soft, satisfied sigh, upon which the CURTAIN falls.]

The Mystery Crush

February 2, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 0 Comments

A few months into our relationship, my ex indicated to me that she had a crush on someone else.

“She doesn’t want to say this, and she isn’t going to mention it again, or act on it,” said Oxford (although his voice sounded a lot like the Seamstress’ own), “but… there is someone else.”

My eyes, already filled with tears, started to leak. As they rolled down my cheeks, he carried on.

“As for you,” he said to the Seamstress, “what do you think you are doing, hurting this beautiful boy? You don’t want to upset anyone, and Lady Pandorah would be very upset with you, so there.“

“Right,” I whispered through a veil of tears. “Thanks, Oxford.” And I curled up to cry as the Seamstress awkwardly – but sweetly – stroked the hair of the boy she hurt.

A few months after our relationship ended, I asked the question that I’d been aching to ask since that moment.

“You know how you said, a few months in, that you had a crush on someone else? Who was that?”
“Oh… no-one.”

That didn’t make sense. It couldn’t have been no-one. She wouldn’t have said there was otherwise.

“No, I really need to know. It doesn’t matter who it was. Really.”
“Oh. No-one.”

This time, there was a finality to her voice. The conversation ended, as they tend to do, and neither of us ever mentioned it again. In fact, I don’t think I have heard her voice since.

But I still wonder who it was. It can’t have really been no-one, or she wouldn’t have indicated otherwise.

It was more than a decade ago… but it still keeps me up at nights.

TMI Tuesday: Bondage & Dwarfs

January 25, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 1 Comment

I opened the door
The place was crawling with dwarfs
I said, “what is this, some kind of orgy?”
But she just smiled at me as she picked up a dwarf and greased him up
Then she started wanking off Dopey…

For ~~want of content~~ your perusal, I’m once again doing this meme. Yes, I too was slightly disturbed by the title of this one. I have, incidentally, once been in a production of Snow White and Several Dwarfs (we had eight), but I’m fairly sure that’s not what this is about.

My fiancée is fairly short; let’s go with that.

1. What is one thing your significant other could do to you to rock your world?

Sexually, or generally? This is one of those open questions, so I’m not sure how to answer that.

If we’re talking sex, then the thing that affects me the most is having my nipple sucked while I wank myself off. I like having sex, of course, but since that isn’t happening, this is as close as we’re going to get. Not that this has happened, either.

On a more chaste, but no less intimate, note, they could let me spoon them in bed. We used to do this all the time, but it doesn’t happen any more.

2. You have been granted the super power you always wanted. How will you abuse that power? Why?

I’ve always wanted to be able to fly. Ever since I was very young, that’s been one of my desires – as a child, I was obsessed with the concept of freedom. Being able to take off from the ground and go anywhere was a way of escape.

I’d abuse this power by going places. I’ve always wanted to visit Japan and probably never will, so that’s the first place I’d go. I’d also be able to visit all the people I know abroad, like my hairy friend in the USA and my cousin in Australia. I’d also do a few good deeds, like Moe at the end of The Homer They Fall.

Of course, I’d save a packet on commuting too.

3. For sexy play, would you rather be tied up or tie someone else up? Why?

As regular readers will know, bondage really isn’t my thing, although I have been talked into it.

On the few times that I have indulged, I’ve always been the one doing the tying up. I can’t stand being constrained – it does odd things to my brain – and, anyway, I don’t like pain, and the tight knots experienced practitioners use always look painful.

4. What is your best physical and non physical asset?

My best physical asset is, unequivocally and without doubt, my eyes. They’re a lovely shade of medium blue and shine ‘just so’ in the light. They even look pretty when I cry, which is a feat all on its own. I’m not happy with the rest of my body… but I have good eyes.

My best non-physical asset is probably my honest, unwavering heart.

5. Referring to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, if they were naming new dwarfs beyond the seven, what would your name be and why?

Trivia time! Disney had a long list of dwarf names before deciding on seven; he rejected a lot of alternate adjectives before making his choice.

I think I’d probably be “Pretentious”. You don’t really need to do much except reading my blog to see why.

Seastorm

January 20, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 0 Comments

For the fourth time that day, I regretted not bringing a hat to Chessington. Although the continuous beat of the sun had proven quite effective in baking off the water I was covered in from Professor Burp’s Bubbleworks, it was still feeling quite oppressive as we stood patiently in the queue for Seastorm.

Lightsinthesky had left us a while ago, accusing us of living in “pencil-land” when we both refused to go on Rameses’ Revenge. Einstein and I were enjoying ourselves, however.

What neither of them knew was that I had had A Moment™ earlier that day. As usual, nobody had wanted to sit next to me on the bus, so I had a double seat to myself – most of the rowdy boys opposite me were more concerned with making V-signs at lorry drivers than haranguing me, so I had a quiet journey. As we pulled into Chessington, however, the radio blasted an Elton John track the instant the second bus came into view.

The first person I saw through the window was Zebra, the girl I had a crush on. Granted, she was the only one I’d been looking for, but the combination of the music’s swell and her long, dark hair (and beautiful toothy smile) had a profound effect on me. At that moment, all I felt was love, love, love, and the dark and difficult year I’d just had seemed to simply melt away.

As Einstein and I clambered onto Seastorm, she hovered into view again (and I mean that – her feet never seemed to touch the ground), accompanied by her short, cheeky friend and two tall, white girls with glasses. Eventually, I’d end up with a crush on all of them. But, at the time, I only had eyes for her.

“Look, there’s…” I started, but I never got to finish my sentence, as she faded into a blur when Seastorm started moving. I held on, let out a few whoops every now and again, and thought to myself, this is all right. Everything’s all right.

For the rest of the day, I kept an eye out for her, although the milieu of warm bodies throughout the park was too dense to make out her shape. I went on as many rides as I could, for sure, but I never did see her after Seastorm.

As it grew darker, the teachers corralled us and we were duly shepherded back onto our respective buses. I sat in the same seat, the multitudes prepared their V-sign fingers, and I trained my eyes on the window I’d seen Zebra sitting at that morning. As I’d hoped, she materialised in exactly the same place, smile fixed to her face, looking straight forwards.

She wouldn’t see me unless she turned to the right.

So I stared…

Ring

January 15, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 0 Comments

Ring ring
Is that you on the ‘phone?
You think you’re clever
But you’re never saying nothing at all

It was the middle of a lazy Saturday afternoon when the ‘phone began to ring. My parents were out, my sister was away, my gran was at a day centre, and my dog couldn’t use a ‘phone. Moreover, the landline was just outside my bedroom, so it was easy for me to get.

The problem being that I wasn’t really available to answer it. We had decided to take advantage of the empty house and spend an hour or so of having very energetic, very messy and very loud sex; not content with re-aligning her spine on a regular basis, we were now trying to murder my mattress. She was certainly making all the right sort of noises, and tight around my shaft…

I was going to come inside her. I was so close (and she was approaching something like her second or third orgasm), so I couldn’t just stop now, could I?

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring.

“How long does it take you to answer the ‘phone?” squawked Lightsinthesky by way of a greeting. “We were wondering if you were going to come and sit in when we record the song?”

The song! I’d totally forgotten about it. I’d even written a verse myself and hovered in the music room making suggestions while Music Man strummed chords. I owed it to them – and my token black friend (whose song it was, nominally) – to turn up.

“I was… was… going to…”
“Are you coming back to bed, love?” she said, loudly and breathily, grabbing my arm and hauling.
“Yes, yes,” I gabbled. “I’ll come…” (at which point she laughed) “…I’ve just got to finish something first. I’ll be there, I’ll be…”

She took the ‘receiver from my hand and hung up. We went back to bed, and half an hour later with my cock still tender and her full of cum, we turned up at Lightsinthesky’s house. None of those present had ever met her before, but one supposes meeting someone in their “just got railed” state isn’t an entirely unpleasant experience.

*

Later that day my mother deemed it prudent to ask the perfectly innocuous question of what we had been doing that afternoon.

“We went to Lightsinthesky’s house,” I said, perfectly truthfully, “and recorded the song we wrote for my token black friend. It was very good; she was still singing the chorus afterwards.”
“Did you say hello to Dane?”
“Dane. The builder, Dane.”

I knew Dane. He had helped to convert our attic into a third bedroom. But I’d no idea he had been present. Maybe he had come by while I was at Lightinthesky’s?

“I didn’t see him – when was he here?”
“He’s been here all afternoon, finishing the bathroom floor! You didn’t see him? What were you doing for most of the afternoon?”

😳

He’d certainly done a good job on that bathroom floor. Six years later and I was still fucking on it.

TMI Tuesday: Lord knows, it’d be the first time

January 11, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 2 Comments

Swirly colours with text "First Time for Everything" superimposed — *Doctor Who Theme*

It’s the second week of 2022 (possibly – time has very little meaning any more) and the first time I’m doing this meme. Hmmm, that isn’t as snappy a sentence as I thought at… wait for it…

…at first.

When you’ve finished rolling in the aisles and being carried out helpless with mirth, would you mind reading the rest of this post? Cheers.

1. First app you check in the morning?

This is Twitter. I don’t have any other apps on my phone – I use Facebook, but rarely, and primarily on my computer, and I don’t have any other accounts – ie. I don’t use Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok et al. (edit the preceding sentence according to the year). I routinely check Twitter, since it genuinely is my only link to the outside world.

I’ve got WhatsApp too, which I guess is an app of a sort, but I’ll check Twitter first.

2. First kiss location?

In her bedroom, on her bed, just after asking her to be my girlfriend. I’d never been kissed before, and I had no idea how to do it. It was messy, deep and surprising – I didn’t even imagine that there would be so much tongue – but so, so good.

She kissed me again afterwards, which was also a surprise!

3. First major purchase over £1,000?

I don’t think I’ve ever bought something that cost over £1,000 (not even rent – the rent here is £950 per month and the deposit was paid by my grandparents)… and, even if I wanted to, I would never be able to afford that!

My biggest purchases have been video game consoles. My Switch set me back a couple of hundred.

4. First song choice in a karaoke song book?

For someone who can’t shut up once he’s started singing, I’ve got very little experience with karaoke. I know all the lyrics to the greatest hits of James, so I’d go for those (as long as it isn’t Sit Down), and I’d sing anything by Smash Mouth by virtue of them being my second-favourite band. But, generally, I’d sing anything.

The first and only time I’ve ever tried karaoke, I sang Gangnam Style. No, I can’t read Korean, but I knew the words phonetically… to a point, at least.

5. First internet screen name?

Benvolio. We were studying Romeo & Juliet (and I was reading Doctor Faustus, in which he also appears), and it seemed an appropriate enough sobriquet.

6. First break-up reason?

Oh, well done on opening up that wound.

This is still unresolved, and won’t ever be. I think the most simple reason is “dumped me for someone else”, but I’m fairly certain there were multiple other reasons for what happened. She was reading The Ethical Slut before breaking up with me, and I’m pretty sure that was a contributing factor.

The fact remains that I was being cheated on (and I knew it was happening and didn’t say anything on the assumption that it would end soon), and as a result, I find it incredibly difficult to trust my partners, especially if they have a celebrity crush.

It’s a silly thought, but it stems from how my first relationship ended. One word from anyone else and they’d be out the door.

7. First concert and how old were you?

Green Day 2002. I was 17.

I’ve been to a lot of concerts (I almost saw Staind before Green Day, but Music Man also promised the ticket to his then-girlfriend), and prior to this I saw a lot of classical music at the Barbican. I am assuming that you mean rock concerts, though, and therefore The Mad Hatter’s Tea Party at the age of 12 probably doesn’t count.

It took me long enough to get to a concert. I had tickets for blink-182 the previous year, but then 9/11 happened and all the flights got cancelled. Then Tom broke his back. I eventually saw blink-182 in 2004… I was going to go with my girlfriend, but – well, see above…

8. First crush?

My first crush was a very quiet girl who sat in the most inaccessible corner or every classroom. I had a crush on her for a very long time, actually, and until the end of school, I still sneaked a few looks at her. We eventually became friends.

At the time, I gave all my crushes code names. Hers was The Zebra Project.

Bonus: What was the title of your very first blog post?

It was “I really don’t understand some people.” The first sentence was:

It’s so unfair, sometimes. I try my damn hardest not to get so upset about everything and yet some things just whistle by.
2001 ilb

Most of my earliest blog posts were angsty teen rants from a boy who desperately wanted a girlfriend – more intimate and love-fuelled posts than I had in my paper diaries, but still on a public space and intended to be read. My early blog posts weren’t good reads, but looking back on them, they do provide something of an insight into the teenage male mind, and maybe that proved useful…

…to a point?

#FiveThings: Journal

January 7, 2022 / Innocent Loverboy / 3 Comments

First post of 2022 and it’s a meme. ILB, you predictable bastard.

In any case, this is my attempt at taking part in the new Five Things meme, with thanks to Julie from MPB for coming up with the concept. The prompt is “journals, diaries and planners.” I can do that, I’m sure.

When I was in my teens, before I stated blogging, I kept a journal. I wrote it, diligently – almost religiously – every single day. Occasionally my entry would be a couple of sentences (on two occasions I wrote “too tired to write”, read: “too lazy to write”), but more often than not, I managed to fill the whole page. So here ae five things about my handwritten journaling days.

1) My journal was written purely to entertain.

From the instant I started writing, I knew that the intent was for my journal to be read. Once it got out that I had a journal, I knew people would want to read it, and I knew that I liked to write. My aim wasn’t to keep secrets, nor was it to mention anything too explicit. I wanted my writing to be read and I kept that in mind.

2) Once it was read, it became wildly popular.

Maybe “wildly popular” is a little hyperbolic, but for a while, it was one of the few things any of us brought to read on residential trips, holidays, etc. – and I certainly took a few of them. Since I didn’t mind my journal being read (and it was written for that purpose), I was quite pleased to let it be passed around the group and let everyone read my words. (This may come as a shock to you, but some writers are self-obsessed, wanting people to actually read their content. I know: amazing, isn’t it?)

3) Other journallers were confused by my attitude.

Our year 9 History teacher once asked if any of us wrote a journal; three hands went up. His question was about reading – did any of us let anyone else read their diary? Both girls who had also raised their hands confessed to letting each other read (they were best friends who, at this point, lived together), but that it was private. I said, truthfully, that my journal was an open book (quite literally, heh…) and that I would willingly read bits out if people wanted me to. Neither girl understood this, but they both ended up reading it.

4) I wrote my journal with an incredibly specific style and structure.

This is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else ever do. Every journal entry had to have:

(i) A title – usually a pun, or a sentence, or a couple of key words… like a blog post does. This would range from “Xmas Day” (my very first entry) to things like “Venture On In!” (a Venturer day out) or “Droit du seigneur” (when we’d first done sex ed in school and I was amused by it). I did this accidentally at the beginning and liked it so much I carried on doing it for all three journals I managed to fill.

(ii) A quote of the day. This was something funny, clever or memorable that somebody had said throughout the day. My favourite was “I shall never make soap”, but that takes a bit of explanation to justify.

(iii) In later years, I’d add a statistic or fact (one that I knew; I was too lazy to look anything up) relevant to the day’s events. This went after the quote and was rarely a replacement for it…

(iv) …and/or a “moral learnt”, which was later still and only really appeared in “Journal III”, the final one. This was intended to provide a bit of humour – everything I write is meant to be humorous, really – but throughout the year it became more and more bitter and self-deprecating.

(v) Cross-posting appeal. My first diary was a little longer than my second, so I would write each entry twice: once in my first journal, and then again – word for word – in my second. Towards the end of my third, I started a LiveJournal, and when I didn’t have anything new to add for a journal entry, I would print out that day’s LJ entry and stick it on the page.

5) It wasn’t just a journal.

Because I’m… well… me, although my main intent was to write an entertaining, humorous, self-deprecating account of my life, my journal was used for more. Every now and again, snippets of fiction that I was working on, bits of a playscript (I finished the play, eventually, after photocopying journal pages), song lyrics I’d written, schematics for a droid I wanted, or emotional short-form poetry.

I started my journal when I was 14. At 16, I genuinely wasn’t sure who I was or what I wanted to be… but I was pretty certain that I could write anything I wanted. About anything. In any form.

So I did.

And I still do.

2021 #orgasmcount (aka: “Zounds, More Of This Shit?”)

December 31, 2021 / Innocent Loverboy / 1 Comment

After a difficult, depressing 2020, 2021 was certainly different: a rough-and-tumble, tumultuous assemblage of a year, starting with sea shanty TikTok and ending with an absent Prime Minister. I, personally, have been through several highs and lows throughout the year and, now that it’s over, I’m not entirely sure how to feel about that.

The Year

I had quite a good Spring. After being jettisoned from my beloved job at the end of 2019, I had struggled to find anything else for a while, until just before my birthday, when I was given a lifeline until the Summer. I was very sad to have to leave that job, although the last few weeks of June were slightly tempered by the fact that I’d spent a week in hospital and been diagnosed with myotonic dystrophy (which was both a surprise and a relief).

Summer was a confusing mess, overshadowed largely by the fact that Willow died at the beginning (but I did enjoy a free August). I didn’t enjoy Autumn much – as the result of working at a new job where it was made clear that I didn’t fit in – but I had an okay Winter… at least until a couple of weeks before Christmas, where I had to battle off COVID-19 for two weeks, only for my nan to die a few days later. Christmas was a sad one, although it did go well enough, considering the circumstances (and I got everything I wanted – thanks, Jesus!)

I’ve spent the last few days trying to be calm. I’m not good at being calm, but I’ve been trying. For the past couple, I’ve been achieving it. This morning I even managed to get up early and make myself a hot chocolate – how’s that for progress?

The Orgasms

Right, back to what I was originally intending to post about. In 2020 I had 113 orgasms; this was down from 2019’s 134 (but 2019 was a better year!). This year I had long periods of not being able to touch myself – being in hospital and sick with COVID, plus some relatively severe periods of depression at points – so I wasn’t sure how many I would have had by now.

Fortunately, I kept a record….

131– the number of orgasms I’ve had this year (as denoted by a ★ in my WHSmith mid-year diary)

That’s markedly more than last year. I am genuinely surprised by this; I thought it’d be less.

35.89% – the number of orgasms in a year, compared to the number of days in a year, expressed as a percentage

More than a third. That’s an awful lot of time with my dick in my hand.

24/11 to 09/12 – a period of time in which I didn’t have any orgasms at all

This was the week (and surrounding days) when I had COVID. I was pretty much knocked out by COVID and, although I had feverish sex dreams during, I barely had the energy to move, never mind wank. I also didn’t do so when I was in hospital, but I’ll talk about that later…

28/06 and 05/11 – dates on which I had notably powerful, effective or satisfying orgasms (as denoted by !!! in my diary)

The first of these being the day after I got out of hospital. It was also, in fact, the first orgasm in my parents’ house (where I was staying) for years. Bonus fact for you there.

27/01, 03/03, 07/04, 01/06, 03/08, 13/12 and 16/12 – the one date on which I had more than one orgasm (as denoted by “x2”) in my diary

I’ve been a busy little bee this year. Buzz, buzz, buzz.

03/04 – a day where I wrote the single word “jump!” after the ★. I remember this one: I was angled in such a way that my jizz did a Dick Fosbury move in the air before coming down to land. Holy jumping semen, Batman!

The Audacity

This marks post number 65 in 2021, compared to 79 in 2020, so I certainly didn’t manage to make 2020 Escape Velocity this year. Maybe next year… we’ll see. As long as I don’t get laid up with a mysterious illness at any point, I’m sure I’ll be okay.

I have an interesting year planned for 2022 – although with caution, as I’m pretty sure nobody knows how ’22 is going to go. Nevertheless, I can pretty much guarantee it will be interesting. Let’s hope it’s actually interesting in a more entertaining way than the last two years have been.

Join ILB in 2022 for more sex, porn and wanking chat. See you there.