My mum died when I was 12 so we never had 'the talk'. I'm not sure if I'm lucky that I didn't have to endure the awkwardness or jealous that I missed out on a coming of age milestone! I learnt everything I know from experience.
I have before and I'm sure I will again.
Finding the right person is important. I'm never going to be able to get myself off if I'm constantly being yanked back to reality by poor spelling and grammar.
How much work I have to do is also a factor. If they're happy to give me the time to get there then yes. If it's all about them and I'm constantly typing then no because I can't text one handed and still use my other hand properly. But it's give and take.
Not so bothered by anything tit related, but I like having my bum smacked.
Bits. Linda. Popsicle/ Pops/ Popsit/ sweetie Pop. Daddy's good girl.
We had an agreement. You fucked it.
1. I have 12 tattoos.
2. I'm a naturist.
3. I'm very altruistic, often at the expense of my own happiness.
Cornucopia, because of the masses I have to do for uni.
I really like having my neck and lips nibbled and gently bitten, as I get more and more turned on, the more I enjoy the pain so the harder I want to be bitten.
Fanta fruit twist zero. Counting down the hours until I can have something stronger to take the edge off!
Grace and Luca, can I join you two too? I have the exact same problem, finishing is proving impossible. Which is annoying as I'm currently writing smut as a procrastination tactic so that I don't have to write my university assignment! I could do with a nice cuppa, or something considerably stronger.
For me, it's not about whether I'm easy or not. It's about how desperate I am to have that person because of their personal attributes.
If they're amazing, we get on and all that then I would hope to fuck then sooner rather than later. If I didn't find them as attractive- physically, emotionally or intellectually, then I may still want to fuck them, but the sense of urgency created by a connection and need wouldn't be there, so I guess if be less easy?
I'm not a prostitute, I'm not dropping my knickers for anyone that asks. Some I will take time to deliberate over and, rarely, there are other who I could happily fuck on sight/ meeting.
I have never full on masturbared while driving, but I often have a little rub through my clothing to suffice until I get home.
I quite often play with my tits while driving. Heading down the A1M last week, I them both out and spent a good hour or so teasing them and playing with my nipple bars. By the tikenubgot home I was desperate.
I'm sure the cut/ uncut thing has been covered many times on here before. You could scroll back and get the answers from there too. But, personally, being circumcised or not doesn't bother me. A cock is a cock. It's just a hat that can be removed. No Biggie.
A cocky man tells you why you should be interested in him and tries to force it. He gets butt hurt and potentially aggressive when he doesn't get his own way.
A confident man shows you, through his actions, reciprocal interest and patience, why you should want to be with him. A confident man has enough substance and class to accept rejection and doesn't start hurling insults should you not wish to fuck him.
I would always favour honesty over what someone thinks I want to hear. I'm not actually gonna fuck anyone off here in real life so I would never know if they were lying or not but I'd hope people could be honest about something as unimportant as cock size.
The saying 'it's not what you've got but how you use it that matters' couldn't be more true. I've slept with two guys who had huge, thick 10 inch cocks and clearly thought that that was enough because the sex was awful. In my experience guys with 'less than average' sized dicks tend to be insecure about that fact and therefore put more effort into fucking and you both have a way better time.
Not everything is about penis size. I don't care if you've got 4 inches or 10 inches as long as you know what you're doing and we're gonna have a great session. Anything in that range would be physically satisfying inside me but, honestly, I prefer an average 6-7 incher.
The soft pitter patter of raindrops landing on the felted roof of our chalet. I'm not feeling well so I'm wrapped up in bed, looking out over the woodland at the back of the abbey where Lord Byron lived. There are worse places to be ill.
I like fizzy drinks served flat and at room temperature and I really don't like ice or lemon in them.
I drink really strong tea, which compensates for the fact that I have at least an inch of milk in it because I don't want to have to wait for it to cool down.
Brussel sprouts are my favourite veg, which I'm told is odd. But they're just so tasty.
I eat my meals in order of preference. For example, I'll save the tastiest thing until last. This backfires when I get too full to eat the last thing and then I miss out on it.
I also drink a hell of a lot of liquids. At least 3 litres a day, more on a warm day or if I'm doing stuff. It's probably an average of 4 litres a day, but sometimes 5 or 6 if it's very hot.
I actually have OCD and can safely say that clicking on this thread was not a good idea.
Medium and high wind impact storms that are due to hit the UK are named by the Met Office. They started doing it in 2015/16 so it's now in its second 'season'. The wonderful British public can send suggestions to the Met Office and they then compile a list of the most submitted. They will only consider actual human names. These are then arranged alphabetically and alternate between male and female names. Then, as and when storms come along they are given a name from the list, which is followed in alphabetical order. So Storm Doris was named a while ago and this would have been the name regardless of the strength of the storm or any damage etc.
The names for this year are: Angus (19-20 Nov ’16), Barbara (23-24 Dec 2016), Conor (25-26 Dec 2016), Doris (now), Ewan, Fleur, Gabriel, Holly, Ivor, Jacqui, Kamil, Louise, Malcolm, Natalie, Oisín, Penelope, Robert, Susan, Thomas, Valerie and Wilbert.
Storm Wilbert and Storm Susan don't really evoke fear and treachery either do they? Ah, you can always rely on us Brits to suggest suitable names bahaha.
Yesterday my bin lid flew up and blew a pop bottle and a box of cat biscuits into my neighbour's garden and I can't get round to retrieve them. I have felt suitably guilty about it since. I hope you're proud of yourself Doris.
I like the idea a lot. There are so many valuable members who go above and beyond. I think they deserve to be appreciated formally!
I'm backing the 'awesome' badge. I'd also like to throw in the 'gold star' badge in too. At school when you're well behaved, kind, do good work etc. you get a gold star. Much coveted, relatable and fitting for this I think, after all, it is to be awarded to the stars of Lush. Something simple like 'Lushest Lushie' could also do the job and reflects that this is tied to the core values of our little community. I shall keep thinking too!
Family are currently in a bit of a housing related crisis. Dad is overwhelmed and stressed out by it. Brother has grandiose ideas but a zero hour contract so really needs to readjust his views. His fiance is in her own fucking dreamworld and doesn't seemed phased by any of it and also 'doesn't have time' for a part time job to help out financially, despite the fact she's only in uni 11 hours a week.
So it's all left to me to prevent them from becoming homeless as the place they are renting is about to be sold by the landlord. None of the rental properties I've found are any good. Dad needs a bungalow with step free access. Brother needs a garage for his motorbike. His fiance needs somewhere with decent transport links so she can get herself to uni rather than relying on my elderly disabled father to drive her. They've poo pooed all but one of the places I've found. So I put a £150 application fee in for it. And then they decide it's actually not suitable.
I've now had to start looking at alternatives, like benefits to supplement their income, social housing, temporary housing etc. Dad doesn't care as long as there is a separate shower. Brother doesn't trust the council to find somewhere. His fiance might not even qualify to live with them as she's only been in the country 18 months.
Received a letter from the council on Saturday saying they need two months bank statements and proof of income for each of them. I was due to go home on Saturday, back to my husband and my own house and my own chores and responsibilities. I haven't seen him since Valentine's day. But, being the sorter of the family I agreed to stay so that I could sort it all out and hand the evidence in on Monday morning as soon as they open.
It's now Monday evening. My dad has finally got me his bank statements but not proof of income so I'm gonna have to trawl through them so I can highlight and annotate them to explain all income. My brother still hasn't printed his wage slips off for me and isn't happy about having to share his bank statements with the council. His fiance doesn't have a bank account or any income so I need to write a letter outlining this. Then tomorrow morning I have to take his fiance to the team stop which is a twenty minute drive away, then take all this stuff to the council offices and have them copy it, then come back to their house to drop their paperwork off, and then I can finally drive home to my husband, who I won't have seen for a week by this point.
Then tonight, my brother announced we will have either Indian or McDonald's for tea. Which requires me driving to either place, buying food for them and then driving back. Despite the fact that there is food in the house, but nothing to eat as he didn't bother to get any meat out the freezer when I asked him to this afternoon. There are frozen pizzas so I said we could just have them, hut his fiance doesn't eat pizza. He doesn't want to eat something different to her so we have spent the last hour debating what we will do and are no closer to a decision.
I am currently feeling completely unappreciated for everything I've done for the last few weeks trying to prevent their impending homelessness and then to add to that, they just expect me to buy fucking tea for them. I want to see my husband, I want to go home, I want to sleep in my own bed and curl up on the sofa with my cats. I also want some fucking thanks for all the stuff I am doing for them and not just to be exploited and taken for granted because my husband and I have a very healthy income. Yes we get a lot of money, but in the last couple of months I've spent over two grand on these three people and yet they can't even cook me a fucking meal.
To add to all of this, I have now been off work for over three months with depression and anxiety. I think about killing myself daily and it's struggle just to get out of bed. But I have done everything I can to help them, regardless of this. And all they do is fight me, moan and procrastinate. Why do I fucking bother? Right now I feel like telling them that they can shove it up their ungrateful arses and then driving the hundred plus miles home too see my love. But they wouldn't do anything about their housing situation and then in a few weeks when they have nowhere to live I know I'll feel guilty as hell. So I'm stuck here, trying to organise these fucking ungrateful morons while feeling suicidal and missing my husband like hell. I don't know whether to cry or scream.
x 
