a week in the life of aw and me

monday
before he left my place in the early hours of saturday morning, he said to me "so, you're going to ignore me on monday, right?" and i replied, "absolutely". having left the pub together, i didn't think we really needed to give our colleagues any more chances to talk about us. so on monday we ignore each other. studiously.

tuesday
i have a legitimate, work-related reason for needing to speak with aw, although i am loathe to be first to break the silence. i figure i will e-mail him but, seeing as how i work for a technologically inept organisation, my e-mail is not working. i consider my options most of the morning before eventually ringing the helpdesk and getting my e-mail fixed.

i send him two e-mails, neither of which require a reply and he replies to both. around midday he walks over to my desk to ask me about one of my e-mails. i do not look at him, claim to be running late for a meeting (which is actually true) and tell him i will speak to him later.

on my return from the meeting, i delay speaking to him as long as possible. we then engage in dance whereby we each try to catch each other, but the other is busy. it goes back and forth about five times before i finally meet him at his desk. he tells me he'd prefer not to reschedule the meeting. i say okay. (and then continue to ignore him.)

wednesday
we continue to ignore each other. (do you sense a theme here?!) later in the afternoon he is having a heated argument with a colleague who sits next to me. he is very loud and i tell them to take it behind closed doors. when he is out of earshot, the colleague complains to me about him.

thursday
he is out all morning and i actually miss him. i casually ask my aussie friend who sits near him (and works for him) where he is. she says he is on a site visit but will be back in the afternoon. she also claims that he has been in a really bad mood lately. i idly wonder if this has anything to do with me and the excellent job of ignoring that i'm doing, but then consider that i am possibly just self-obsessed.

he returns in the afternoon and i can't help myself. i e-mail him.

me: can you get me a glass of water, please?
aw: what's wrong with your legs?
me: they're still not working properly after last friday
him: oh really? you had a good time then?

i ignore the e-mail and hope that it will entice him to bring me a glass of water so that he can have a reason to talk to me and gain verbal confirmation of his sexual prowess. it doesn't.

friday
i have an arsingly busy day. i find aw's cocky arrogance irritating and unattractive and am looking forward to blowing him off later when we go for drinks at the pub. every time he looks my way i console myself by playing out scenarios in my head. for example:

aw: so, what are you doing later?
me: going home. i have a thing on with my flatmates
aw: oh really? so i can come?
me: hrmmm... no. i don't think so.
aw: *smug grin is wiped off his face*

at four-thirty i overhear aw saying he has to leave early and meet his brother. he walks out the door and my plans to bust his bubble go to shit. in fact *sigh*... it rather feels like he has bust mine.

ten reasons why you shouldn't have sex with your work colleague*

well okay, there's just one:

1. because if they're really crap in bed (and i mean, horribly bad) and you never want to see them again in your entire life, then come monday, you might have limited options.

the arse-watcher came home with me on friday night. and, it's not that he was that bad, it's just that i had time enough to consider this exact point when he followed me to the bathroom at the pub and stuck his tongue down my throat in a very rough, non-pleasing manner. and at this stage, it was too late to turn back- for better or worse, i'd already committed my evening to him.

after the prelude in the bathroom, "rough" did turn out to be a theme, although i wasn't exactly complaining. i got up the next morning (after he'd left) and caught sight of myself in the mirror, wondering what the black marks were on my breasts. did i catch "black skin" from him?! did he have dirty hands? were my sheets dirty? (hopefully not, because i quickly changed them when i got home, whilst he wasn't looking- seriously why do you always get laid when you least expect it and are least prepared?!) i was in the shower, soaping myself before i realised that the black marks were in fact bruises. all over my breasts. yep, he was rough. plus i was so sore, i could hardly sit down for the rest of the day.

p.s. nigeria: tick
p.p.s. it's true what they say- i thought it was just an urban myth. i could hardly fit the end in my mouth.

*this post is dedicated to F1 and her bf (who happen to work together). thanks for reading my blog xx

planning ahead

i know i've mentioned him before briefly, but i should probably introduce you properly. johnny (the one that wants me home in melbourne with him) has been an ongoing source of emotional distress since about mid-december last year when he wrote to tell me that he wanted to have passionate sex (no, wait, not passionate, i mean PASSIONATE [and you know how much i hate capitals]) with me on the boardroom table.

since then, we have been exchanging e-mails, text messages, naked photographs and other tokens of sexual suggestivity. i thought we were building a good relationship really, even if i wasn't 100% sure where it was going.

but when i asked him if he needed me to house-sit whilst he was in america (when i get back to melbourne, he will be in america for a month, and, as you may recall, i will be bedless) he replied back saying: thanks for the offer, but it would kill me to think of you sleeping in my bed without me. i took it for the polite no that it undoubtedly was. and then immediately started wondering if vsg still worked at the vs.

surprise, surprise

i've been so absorbed reading the twilight saga this week, that when mr brazil called saying he wanted to come over, i wasn't even that keen. still, not wanting to admit that i'd rather read my book than have sex, i let him come.

i'm not too sure whether he was making up for the last visit, or making up for leaving it for two weeks since the visit. whatever it was, he played rough, just the way i like it. i got bitten everywhere. i got pushed, pulled and fucked. and the next day, as i was standing on the tube and struggling to hold my book up, i noticed that he had left bruises all over my wrists. and not because he'd tied me up, either. next time i'm definitely getting out my whip.