Letitcia's Blog

With the phone clamped to one ear while the other heard my nemesis searching for the detritus of his hastily discarded attire, Southern Counties informed me i would be required imminently and a fantasy which was 7 months in the making stumbled out of the door without so much as a kiss my arse goodbye.........

I've heard of star crossed lovers..well we must have been logic starved hedonists.

A match made in heaven for sure.
What perverse prats would repeat that performance....(US)
What kind of madness would make us do it TWICE!!!!!!!!

But we did. 'to be sure to be sure' as my da would say

By the end i felt like a cross between a HSBC night deposit facility and a used, damp, screwed up snot rag.
His departure bore the indecency of haste which is the guilt badge of the married man.

It was an 'EMPTY' and i was the receptacle....well not QUITE the receptacle...there is some quaint Modus Operandi whereby on the vinager stroke, and in one swift movement..the twat relieves his testicles ALL OVER WHAT EVER PIECE OF FLESH HE CAN FIND ON THE OTHER PARTICIPANT.

It has to be something learnt at the mother's knee (or breast)....'THOUGH SHALT NOT SULLY ONE'S OWN BODY WITH THINE OWN BABY BATTER'

The upside? I cancelled my chemical peel and exfoliation session. My fair skin suffered the abrasions of hubba -hubba -hubba 'lets swop spit and weld our very souls with a prolonged snogerama'..L'oreal and Revlon head hunt this gobshite!!!

The scoreline now stands at 4-3 in my favour(hurrah)...though he says his last goal didn't count since i 'gave no imput (try telling my jaw that)and that he had to practically dribble the ball from one end of the pitch to the other without so much as a kick or a header from me'

How sexually selective.

Men...can't kill 'em and can't kill the peverse desire to go back for more.

Posted by Letitcia at 02:40 AM | Comments (0)

January 30, 2006

Free and easy: Part 2

....He arrived and.....the pragmatic, sensible part of my brain still said NO......yet my especially shaved 'front botty' screamed 'take me and do your worst you filthy drongo'.........

......i was up to my tits in 'other stuff to do' on this day of all days....and had to do a quick BBC soundbite (in my elevated position as omnipotent oracle) regarding the big news of the day: New sex laws.

However, that was HOURS away. It transpired that i needed every minute.

And so, the moment of: Can we (jointly) possibly live up to the expectation of the fantasy that had undoubtedly formed in both our ardent minds.
That would surely be impossible...and so it proved.

The fault could be equally divided. It was so WRONG WRONG MOTHERFUCKING WRONG!!!!!

Wrong of HIM to eat Garlic the day before the Big Match

Wrong of ME to just take my kit off (home strip) in an exasperated (at being finally caught) 'lets just get this shomozzle out of the way shall we'

Wrong of HIM to touch me the way he had touched his missus for the last 15-20 years....it seems we are not physiologically built the same, and anyway.... the 4-3-4 formation went out with the ark.

Wrong of ME to drink 10 cups of P.G tips (shades of Maradonna)..when i normally have decaffinated Tetley (i felt shakey)

Wrong of HIM to bollock- ache about 'bloody condoms'(having a ruck with the opposing team is a yellow card offence) and continually attempting to push the rigid boundaries of my rigourous 'mega safe sex policy'( -------and NO, he did not succeed)

Wrong of ME not to have had a 'gutbuster breakfast'(Glenn Hoddle's nutritionist WOULD have bust a macrobiotic gut) to give me the energy which seemed required by this selfish twat.

Wrong of HIM not to take direction (TRAINING SESSIONS ARE SO IMPORTANT)when i pointed out the obvious as in:'Do this sunshine, and do not in any way prevaricate or meander away from the tried and means tested orgasmic path' (This he did continually in a: 'i know what i'm doing sweet pea' kinda way)

Wrong of ME not to just switch the floodlights off and abandon the fixture with teargas on the terraces and shit loads of riot police TRYING VALIENTLY TO RESTORE ORDER and control capacity crowd

Wrong of HIM to have that faintly smug 'GOTCHA' look (like Beckham)with the insolent 'i've got my feet firmly under your table' countanence.

Wrong of ME not to just give him a slap...or at least the 'hair dryer treatment' A La Fergie

Wrong of HIM not to BEHAVE (think Gazza)and not to follow the requisite 1hr preparation time written in 'bedroom etiquette' where a potential fisting is concerned

Wrong of ME to be doing it at all........

IT WAS ALL GOING TERRIBLY WRONG.

In my 'cup (but not WORLD cup) half full rather than half empty world', i tried to focus on anything that i could find that was in any way GOOD about it.

I had to search really hard.

Why, oh why, had we embarked on the misguided ascent of Everest, what had seduced us into this fumbling folly..........me, a Tensing Norgay to his Sir Edmund Hillar(y)ious...the blind leading the blind up the most dangerous circuitous route....without appropriate training, crampons and safety ropes????

On that torpid mountain we were running out of time and good light, the weather was closing in and the high altitude was making it difficult to breath.
It looked for all the world as if it was going to be a goaless draw, with extra time, the 'golden boot' and a pigging penalty shoot out.

I hadn't sprinted up and down the pitch JUST TO END UP HAVING A WANK.

Out of my mind and out of ideas in the war of attrition i tried one more time to convey in clear helpful instructions how he could enable my pent up river to burst it's banks.

'HOW ABOUT YOU JUST LICK ME LIKE A DOG...BUT LEAVE THE BARKING BIT OUT'i guided.

Any NORMAL man would think 'shit i'd better do as i'm told'.
Not this Eejit...for only the BIGGEST EEJIT OF ALL would enquire as to the length of time this particular procedure would take.
Now there is a time for black humour and a time to err very clearly on the side of conservatism......dickus headus's timing was way off.

How in the name of a Rhino's rectum i achieved 'girlie ghee' is between me and the outrageous (sick) thoughts that ran through my depraved mind.

I had finally landed with all the exhaustion of a London-Sydney flight. I had 'pet lag' and had barely cleared customs when i had to jump on another flight.
IT WAS A 747-400 JUMBO

It's said that size doesn't matter, though the Ad men assert that it DOES.
I personally don't give a toss..........BUT........

If skating judges were to score the 'appendage de jour' it would have been shades of Torvill and Dean....PERFECT 6's all round.
Credit where credit is due...there has to be a silver lining round the cumnulous cloud.

All aboard and mind the doors please......

Part 3 will come eventually (like me) when i can be arsed...
Letitcia xxxx

Posted by Letitcia at 11:27 AM | Comments (0)

January 25, 2006

Free and easy.

Pritti, the lovely wife of Yagnash the local newsagent commented today:'Oi Letitcia, are you sleepwalking?'
Ha, bloody ha.
It was 8.30ish in the morning----as opposed to the mad 'trying to beat the clock' with regard to getting to my Daily Mail(well SOMEONE has to read it) before they close.

I had an assignation.........

He was a married man with 2 children. We drank coffee and talked about sex for breakfast sex for lunch and sex for supper.

No, this is not some newfangled fantasy---we had been asked to bond as two proposed contributors for a local newspaper.
The editor thought (i am assuming)that we could blend well by virtue of being diametrically opposed in lifestyle and of course gender.

Two voices---one theme...abit like Sonny and Cher.

He was in the throes of writing a book ('100 sexual positions')and was anxious to bring the meeting of fine minds to a close.
He had one week to write 15,000, but as a seasoned journalist that would be a piece of piss.

I ran past him various ideas and subject matters i had submitted to the editor: 'bit of a bugger i can't use the HOW TO GET A FREEBIE FROM A SEX WORKER one' i said 'that would have been a corker'.

Suddenly he was not so hurried.
'Jesus' he boasted 'i can get free EVERYTHING......C.D's Books.....tell me how to do it...that's the only thing i DON'T know how to get!!!!'

'Would you like me to give you the bloke's number?' i joked.....'not only did he crack it....he cracked it with ME!!!!!'

Not so much: 'The unsinkable Molly Brown' but 'The unpenetrable Alcatraz'

It took the bugger 7 months ...yes 7 MONTHS the clever sod.

He started with an approach on my website and the start of his crusade was shaky.
'saw you on the street the other day....YOU WAS SHORTER THAN I IMAGINED'
I was moved to respond that 'i may be short sunshine, but what i lack in height i make up for in personality'

He also requested/gave me intructions as to the outfit he would love me to replicate on my extensive photo gallery.
I won't relay the dog's dinner he had in mind, but you will get the gist when i say....... i replied with: 'am actually attempting to attract the men TO me....rather than making them run for the hills'

I think you get the picture!!!!

He was RELENTLESS. If ever a bloke had mastered the art of tenacity and 'wearing the damsels down' he was the headest and hardiest honcho by far.
We thrusted and parried like email muskateers.
He attacked, i demured...he delved deeper, i retreated.
He tested the juices by sending a photo....i didn't vomit, so he was clear to circle the airport.

He asked about me and my life and my ethos, and when he overstepped the mark (by sayin' somthin' stoopid).....he had a smooth line in self deprecation,pathetic apology and was contrite, until it was safe to carry on in his quest.

He got drunk a few time and the carefully constructed veneer of just two people chatting was smeared with the inevitability of 'the real agenda'.
He showed acts of kindness, made sure i knew that 'women told him he was good in bed' and asked what qualities my ideal man would have.

'LOOK,A MAN IS EITHER A LOVER OR A PATRON.....AND SINCE YOU ARE MARRIED (told me from the get go)....and since you have this 'thing about paying for it' (never quite found out what THAT was about)you have nowhere to go petal' was the nucleous of my argument.....which obviously fell on 'ears that want to hear the reverse'.

He laid siege to my ramparts with renewed vigour.

Then...the masterstroke. One keeps friends close and enemies even closer.....he had found my weakest link...ROCK MUSIC.

I was lacking, and therefore had a longing to hear several A/C D/C C.D's.......and he was willing, nay he DEMANDED that he be allowed to fill my musical hole.

This was kismet and a pivitol point. I was reminded of the movie High Fidelity. There would probably be no turning back.
It was of course a perfidious Trojan Horse(i wonder if they named the condomns for that very reason),moving in by stealth and gaining a back door entrance into the city...until parked up all jolly in the market square.
Very cleverly, he chose not to meet me....he delivered them to my building while i was out instead.
AAAAAaaaahhh...how fucking sweet can you get????
He suggested meeting...i assented.

He continued to be helpful and an indispensable part of my daily life....like the postman or the unmistakeable and reassuring clink of the milkman's bottles.

Then an opening appeared for the bright young lad.
He offered technical help with my computer..fluffy bimbos are an easy mark and he took full advantage.
The visit coincided with a non working day (for me)....we talked bollocks for 7 hours and there was only a semi grope on his departure

He needed to continue said technical support a few days later and we talked bollocks for another 5 hours (there's only so much bollocks you can talk about) and he somehow resisted the urge to replicate previous lunge.

We somehow manufactured a reason for him visiting within the next few days...by this time i had wanked myself to death (my clitoris recoiling in horror everytime my hand came near) and i suspect he had tugged his turgid member in many monumental tugs of war.

He arrived, and.......
Sorry folks...THIS IS A TWO PARTER!!!!!!!!! Letitcia xxxxx

Posted by Letitcia at 10:29 AM | Comments (0)

October 02, 2005

Don't put your Daughter on the stage Mrs Worthington

'The audience will love you' he said

Buoyed up by his enthusiasm, i foolishly muttered 'OKAY'

Most of the things that i have done of an outrageous/sexual nature----have been behind closed doors.

So, am i on 'BIG BROTHER'(NOT WATCHED IT) or 'I'M A CELEB'(HAVE, AND THOROUGHLY ENJOY)????

No, (though TRISHA GODDARD SHOW BECKONS IN A FEW WEEKS).

I have given the thumbs up to APPEARING ON STAGE ---at a venue in Brighton.....and talking a load of cat sick about WHATEVER I WANT!!!

Best get your appointments in fast lads....BECAUSE, for me a pulminary embollism beckons.

The evening will naturally be sponsered by Pampers Nappies and Shanks Armitage----'cos i AM SHITTING MYSELF

Posted by Letitcia at 09:40 PM | Comments (0)

June 26, 2005

Darryl Lee and the stretch limo

My mates in Australia---and not an inconsiderable corresponding number in the U.K, have dined out on this story for YEARS----

Why should they have all the fun-------?

There were eighty reasons why i had such a high standard of living in Australia.

They were the number of hours i toiled (and i DO mean: back breaking, sweat inducing.. 'hard yakka') for a number of years in Sydney.

On my days off, i would traditionally ensconce myself in the Palm Court of The Intercontinental Hotel...sip copious amounts of the finest champagne bubbles, and listen to the live classical quartet who performed there daily.

On this particular day i was wearing the finest apparel hard earned money could buy. There was a shop in Pitt St called MERIVALE--they imported the best clothes from all over the world.

I was swathed in designer white from head to toe--along with sheer fully fashioned white stockings and zebra/ocelot stilletos.
The Janet Reger lace underwear was on this auspicious and very hot day, conspicuous by it's absence.

It came time to leave, and the concierge duly ordered me a taxi---but what eventually arrived was definately not a rustbucket radio cab.
A beautiful stretch limo (also in white) awaited madam. It was their present to me, since every week i always called into Centerpoint Tower to pick up some of their favourite confectionary: Darryl Lee Licorice---and i always declined to take their money.

So for this Act of Noblesse Oblige i was travelling home in style.
The scrummy driver (we all love a man in uniform) seemed like a nice boy, and since i wasn't in a hurry to go straight home to a domestic argument with my current beau (i was already late)--i decided i may as well be hung for a bloody great sheep rather than a new born lamb.
(I am very perverse in that way)

'Let's go to the Botanical Gardens and watch the sun go down (no pun)----maybe we can crack open another bottle and watch a 'bluey' in the back seat' i enthused.

He thought it was a brilliant idea: there is nothing better than getting laid and paid (as i keep telling people) and he loved the double whammy of knowing that as i was a 'pro' (the staff told him)---- therefore he would have the distinction of 'getting it for free'.

Little things please little minds.

Several glasses/(bottles) imbibed over the course of the afternoon meant that i deperately required a 'toilet break', and even though the gardens were chocca with the horseshoe shape of parked limos-i figured i could retain a MODICUM of modesty by squatting beside the the limo with my bottom pointing out to Sydney Opera House.

Being able to release 10 gallons of stored up urine has GOT to be up there in the: 'This is so fanfuckingtastic' stakes of sheer relief.

I started 'PUSHING' the flow out in ecstasy----and on looking down (to make sure i was not splashing my feet) i was nonplussed to see, in the barely lit dusk:--- the spreading black fluid of an unfortunate accident---I HAD FOLLOWED THROUGH.

'If farts have lumps' the saying goes 'you have certainly shit yourself'. But it was not just over my feet. By virtue of the tightness of my skirt, i had soiled my pristine clothes, the lower half of my body, and so large was my accident practically from front to back wheel!!!!!!

I may as well have fallen into a three feet high cow pat.

You may well laugh folks, i had a handsome good sort 'hot to trot'---(he had already relocated from front to back of the limo) who was well on the way to stroking his 'tool of opression' in readiness for an evening of impromptu passion.

I banged on the back door of the car----hoping that he would not smell the rising smell of noxious fumes.

'You got any tissues?' i croaked nervously

And this is what he gave me......A snow white, monogrammed and delicately embroidered/lacy (must have come from Bruges)....lovingly pressed .....Hankie.

Talk about giving strawberries to pigs.

I gamefully tried to stem the tide of Darryl Lee Licorice effluent--- ( that was for sure the culprit)----but i may as well have tried to mop up the Sydney Harbour with a cotton bud.

Thinking on my feet, or in this case squatting with half a litre of shit covering my body, i called on a common female untruth.

'Would you mind if we went straight home' i pleaded--'i've just started my period'

A digruntled driver reclothed himself--returned to his driver's seat (which was thankfully approx 100yards from my passenger seat)and i slid/squelched into the back of my mobile portaloo.

He switched on the ignition....paused...and said........

COULD I HAVE MY HANKIE BACK.

Posted by Letitcia at 12:03 AM

June 22, 2005

Care in the community.

The number of men that i have inveigled to join me in my 'lair'--purely from sitting on my balcony, is ....ONE.

It is a source of much amusement to lots of my mates--the reason being-----

---It was one of those perfect English Summer days. The horizon had joined the sea, and it was like being in a 'Trueman Show' Biosphere. Zero wind factor and 25 degrees at 7.pm in the evening.

Having imbibed a few refreshing G&T's, i was relaxed and all was well in the universe.

From across the road i espied a likely lad, he saw me luxuriating in my opulent and splendiferous vantage point--and crossed the road, intent upon making my acquaintance.

He looked like a cheeky scallywag, with a cheery smile and oversized unlaced bovver boots--
'Gee, i 'd love to join you in a drink up there' he shouted.

I looked down--and couldn't help but smile at the NERVE of the guy
'Don't move' i cried
30seconds later (as he stood expectantly at the door of the building) I threw down to him---a BIC RAZOR.
'Get yourself shaved' i said

'No way, i've had my beard and moustache for ever' he remonstrated.
'Then you'll be on your way i expect' i called----as i closed the french window doors.

After 5 10 or maybe 15 minutes, (i guess while he wrestled with his manhood, conscience and proposed sex life)--i watched him slope off into the distance.

Thirty minutes later, he was back--with a spring in his step, which said: 'I've just fought the crusades and now i have come to have my way with YOU ,woman'
My throat tightened--this was SSSOOOOOOOooooexciting!!!!!

I let him in,---i have never seen a more pathetic figure in my entire life.
He may have sacrificed his hirsute manhood for me, but he had also cut his face to within 3 strokes of anaemia through severe blood loss.

'All the toilets were closed---i had to do it with cold water' he wailed.
And a right mess he had made too.

I made like Flo nightingale--and by the time i had tidied up the topiary of his face i was overcome by : fatigue, sun,--and playing 'MUM' to a prospective lover.

'If you want to stay, then fine--but lay one hand on me and you are a dead man---is that clear???' i barked

For once, i found a man who did what he was told.

In the morning (he had an early job interview) he slowly aroused me and---ahem---was a very UNSELFISH LOVER.

Now let's get this euphemism straight---he gave me beautiful, soft, gentle, wet,- caring-- (and any other adjective you can think of) oral------and did not require the same in return.

Four hours later, he was back. He had left a one quarter full, bottle of cider in my fridge---and had COME TO PICK IT UP.

I was too happy and tired to wonder why----but all became apparent 8 hours later.

It was a tradition (until i bloody well changed it) for a church association to feed the waifs, strays and homeless--adjacent to my apartment.

My eyes fixed upon an UNLACED PAIR OF BOVVER BOOTS..in the scrum of the dispossesed feeding frenzy.

Some weeks later, an acerbic mate of mine opined: 'must hand it to ya, you are an equal opportunity kind of gal.'

Yep, i had taken in the 'homeless' for one night.
I WILL NEVER LIVE IT DOWN.

Posted by Letitcia at 10:01 PM