Miranda's Illicit Affairs And Encounters

Lilly is feeling particularly sad today, mourning the end of her relationship with “the man with the magic fingers”, although able to use them to maximum effect on Lilly’s lower regions he appeared unable to use them sufficiently on his mobile phone and Lilly  was starting to get a bit cross … and Lilly quite simply refuses to do Bunny Boiler….

We Women are strange creatures, to many of us the thrill of receiving a text from you in the middle of the day is just as exciting as when you first kiss us…. It means that we are in your thoughts and that is sweet…. We like shoes, handbags, kittens, pink, and we like sweet…

But, I digress ….. The man with the magic fingers I hear you ask??? Hell Yeah… This guy could do the most amazing things to Lilly’s body… Lilly didn’t even know that she was capable of this kind of reaction and frantically texted her two best boy pals for more information and advice at the very first opportunity…

The female ejaculation???… Lilly can’t be arsed to go into detail.  Google it, it’s complicated.

Sufficient to say, that in the correct hands Lilly can apparently be, what is termed as “a Gusher”

Nothing to be ashamed of ladies, and as horny as hell, however unfortunately it’s not the kind of thing a girl can experience for the first time and then run back home to her loving husband and announce “Hey Honey, guess what I can do???”

Lilly was somewhat embarrassed at first and blushing texted her lover the next day “I don’t know where it all came from?”

He replied… “I don’t know where it all came from, but I certainly know where it all went, all over my sodin duvet… make sure you drink plenty today Sweetie, else you’ll get dehydrated….”

So has Lilly just lost the greatest sex of her life? Yeah probably, she adored the guy, but he quite simply didn’t have the time for her….

Lilly can’t be doing with looking for a new lover yet, she’s going to concentrate fully on her family for a while, but maybe in a few months she’ll be ready to move on…

What will she be looking for in her new lover??? 

Definitely someone who will call and text her regularly, and as for the magic fingers? Lilly has great expectations….

What is it with men, as a species, that makes us not understand the principles of rejection? Why do we simply, as one of my female friends put it, not get it?

Sometimes it is the fault of the woman in question and more specifically, her desire to not wound the fragile male ego. I can understand that and the warm place it comes from but really, for all you women out there, a straight forward brutal rejection is much better for all concerned.

 You see, men are hopeful creatures, they thrive on possibility and anything short of a brutal shut down is going to look like their might be a possibility of something happening someday and that, ladies, is what you don’t want. I am blessed with many female friends and amongst them one thing remains constant, almost all of them are plagued by men who never stop hounding them for a date no matter how politely they decline and there is the problem.

They are too damn polite about it. Men are indoctrinated at birth into the cult of anything short of an outright no is in fact a yes or at worst a maybe and no matter how much evidence there is to the contrary will always persist with the object of their affections no matter how sad, pathetic or outright insane they appear. So, in the interest of public service here are some guidelines on how to end a suitors unwanted attentions.

Where you might say ‘it just isn’t the right time for me to be dating’ What he heard is: She wants to date me, just not right now Instead say ‘ I would not date you if we were the last two people on earth and you had all the chocolate’

Where you might say ‘ I like you as a friend’ What he heard is: Yes, she likes me, I will be getting laid soon Instead say ‘ I like you as a person but the idea of getting naked with you makes me want to vomit over and over again’

 Where you might say ‘ I just have too much going on at work at the moment’ What he heard is: I want to date you and will do as soon as my work lets up Instead say ‘I would willingly emigrate to avoid ever seeing you again’ You get the point by now I’m sure.

Men are hardy creatures and essentially are used to rejection and whatever you say they have probably heard worse. So in future, do a brother a favour and tell him where to go, namely as far way from you as possible. In the interest of balance, next month we will discuss women who just won’t go away even when you ask them to with a restraining order.

Ahhh – September. Back to school for the kids, the nip of autumn in the air and leaves turning all shades of red and gold. For me, like most busy mums, September means a little additional (and after the long weeks of summer holiday when the novelty of no school wears off rapidly) often very welcome, breathing space. The kids returning to routine provides me with a whole free day in which to do whatever I like – pure luxury! Pre “big adventure” days, this day off would be filled with those niggling little chores we all have that just don’t get done but somehow seemed so satisfying. I rarely spent a great deal of time or consideration shopping, or pampering myself, as like so many other mums I fell into the trap of putting myself somewhere below the dust balls at the bottom of the shed and slightly above clearing the spider webs out of the attic in terms of personal priorities. The height of luxury for me was the “Costa meet” with the mums I met years ago at ante-natal classes. Whole afternoons devoted to competitive comparisons over little Johnny’s language skills and little Annie’s gymnastic achievements.

Now however, it’s a different story. I seem to be spending my whole week planning two key dates in my weekly schedule. One is my Wednesday night dance class when I see hot Latino guy and the other is now my Friday off. Not since my teenager hood has a day of freedom held so much appeal. Endless hours of fantasising over what to wear, where to go. Thursday nights have become a ritual of plucking, painting and preening, in between sneaking outside to check my mobile for texts and emails for messages from “him”. My husband works late that night and I don’t think he has even noticed the dramatic change in my hair colour (blonde to dark brunette).

“He” is my dance instructor. He knows who I “am” now, the secrecy of our earlier online meetings rapidly giving way to heated looks at the dance class and double entendres at post class drinks – held with others of course in order to maintain some sense of “propriety”. Unsure of how to move things to the next step though, I asked one of my more open minded friends her opinion. “Leave it with me” she said. Cue a text next day with the answer to my problems.

“Dance Classes” it read. “Eh? I already do those – with you as it happens”, went my response “ahhhh”, she replied, “but not on your own you don’t. One on one dance classes. He offers two hour personal sessions. Perfect cover if you ask me”. Brilliant. We will call said friend Jayne – and at that moment I could just have kissed her! Dance classes – no one will suspect that – a perfectly credible excuse.

At this point I feverishly paced the house until the time came for me to “walk the dog” i.e sneak out to call O.M. (other man). He loved the idea PROVIDED I didn’t actually want a two hour lesson with him – apparently as lovely as he finds me, the idea of two hours of my stompy footed clod hopping round the studio was just a bit much (and there was me thinking I was thinking I was improving – oh well, I am far more co-ordinated lying horizontally).

So this Friday is it. Our first “session” alone. When I took my marriage vows I meant them. I thought I had done my last “first time” and those butterfly hits every time you think of the man you are seeing were a thing of the past, replaced with cosy nights in, shared ambitions and the haven of domesticity. Turns out I was wrong. I want both – I think. I guess this Friday will show whether or not I really can do this. Wish me luck!