Category: cyber sex

Dulce de Leche

‘What are you doing tonight, Violet?’

‘Do you want exact details?’ I asked him.

‘Yip, I do.’

‘Okay. Um, I’m about to run a bath, add bubbles, light a few candles, put on Norah Jones, laze back, soak for maybe an hour. ‘


‘Then I’m gonna get out, brush my hair, rub oil all over my body, admire my reflection in the mirror, breathe in and out…’

‘Oh, this is getting sexy, what then?’

‘Then I’m going to put on my new gorgeous lingerie, get the tub of Dulce de Leche out the freezer…’

‘Ice cream, oh god, what are you going to do with it…’

‘What do you think I’m going to do with it. I’m going to eat the fucking ice cream, finish the tub, switch on the television, watch the rest of Stranger Things, probably start on the chocolate…’

He disappeared.

‘Hey you,’ I typed. ‘Where’ve you gone, I was just starting to have fun…’

He took an hour to reply.

‘Sorry Vi, went to buy myself some ice cream too, you made it sound too good.’


We’re such pigs.


My gay friend

My gay friend is a very angry gay friend.


He yelled at me over the phone.

I’ve been your friend for twenty years. Twenty fucking years. And you’ve never written about me, ever. Now, I introduce you to X and you write an entire blog about him. Same day. He gets immediate celebrity status and I get one teeny ridicululous mention as ‘The Gay Friend.’  

I giggled.   Calm down. At least I didn’t call you the fat gay friend. Or the fat grey gay friend. Or the old fat grey bad tempered friend. Or…

I was having fun. This was good for my story telling.

You are such a bitch, Violet. All I want is a bit of recognition. But no, nothing. X gets it, your disastrous lovers get it, even your ex bloody husband gets it. And me? Nothing. I’ve been steady in your life, always there for you, sometimes I even read your blogs, and – nothing, nothing.

It wasn’t helping that I kept giggling and interrupting him with things like Yeah but what do you think, should I botox, and hey I bought such a pretty dress today, also, you know I’m trying to do my stomach exercises, hold on while I switch ears.…

He was on a tirade. I let him go on. And on. And on.

He called me a few names. Names I’d never heard before.


Ew, I said.

Ew, he said back. Anyway, fuck you. I’m pissed off.

I got off my yoga mat, checked my abs, not bad, not bad at all. I was ready for a meal.

Ya know, I’m starving. Drinking only fruit juice and not having online sex has me ravenous. Wanna go out for lunch?

Sure.  He suggested the lovely cafe down the road.

Groovy, I said.  Bring X with you.


See! The beauty of friendship.  Fat gay male angry friendship.

It’s perfect.