"Wen we gonna hook up" (sic) and in a flash I'm sat with a hard-on saying yes whenever you want like some sex starved cunt. So my question to myself is how easy am I? I mean was there any call? It's like any old fucker that does not bother calling me from one month to the next knows that I am a good bet for a jump at a moments notice. No wonder everybody thinks I'm a slag, all my ex boyfriends included. Not great for my self esteem. Why the fuck do I bother. And the really daft thing is I bet it never comes off. Either I will fall asleep or he wont call and the whole thing will leave a nasty tang in my mouth, for all the wrong reasons. Maybe next time I might manage to play it a bit cool and be, like, ever so slightly stand offish? Chance would be a fine thing.
So one thing clear to anyone bothering to notice (That's just me then?) that my libido has come back with a vengeance since the the chemotherapy made me dead from the waist down. My mojo has risen. Not quite to its full previous glory. I'm not bothered by the desperate urge to masturbate all the time like I used to be, rather the thought is there even if the flesh isn't quite up to speed yet. Don't get me wrong when push comes to shove the old fella is well up to the job in hand it just needs for there to be someone else in the room. This was never a problem before the cancer but seems to be taking a hell of a time to return to the way it was. Maybe it wont ever come back to normal, I could just be getting old. God forbid. I probably manage to come about once a week now rather than three times a day. Still I can't say its too much of a problem and at least I get a bit of head space to think about other things.
This relative calm in the storm that was my old lust must be a good opportunity to focus my attention on finding a nice little boyfriend rather than chasing round after old ally cats like RG? Who wants to be with the biggest slag in town? Not Mr Right that's for sure.
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