West London Girl

WLG pesters Plan B


I am afraid you need to book an appointment to see me; I do not do emergency call-outs.

It started out as banter, bordering on flirtatious texts, but by Sunday I really wanted to have sex with Plan B. I sent a couple of naughty pics to him while asking him to come over. His reply was evasive, ‘I take it your guests have left…’ Admittedly, it is pretty difficult to take photos of oneself with a phone, but were they that bad? I forwarded one of the pics to an ex. He asked if it was his Christmas present. ‘You might get more if you’ve been good this year?’
‘I reckon I’ve been pretty good.’ I sent another. ‘I must have been good’. He wanted to see me.
I sent a pic to Pierre. I won’t repeat his reply (Wine Writer has recently referred to this blog as a sex blog as it is). Later that evening when I texted Plan B wondering whether the picture quality had been too poor, he replied, ‘There was something seedily exciting about those grainy shots. Goodnight.’ I was still frustrated and let him know I was concerned about his subdued reaction. ‘I am afraid you need to book an appointment to see me; I do not do emergency call-outs. I am in bed!’

I was even more frustrated the next day. I asked Plan B if I could see him before his Christmas party. ‘Certainly not. I am in a workload crisis and will already be at my party well before half seven. I can see you tomorrow if you really want to.’ But after a few drinks at our respective parties, when Plan B sent a mock dirty text, I took it badly. It was clear I’d pushed him when he wanted to remain friends without benefits.

At Heart & Soul Fitness’ Christmas party at Electric I teased a personal trainer (we’ll call him The Body) for being such a good flirt during his classes. By the following day we’d organised dinner for next week. I’m looking forward to telling Plan B when I next see him – just to see the relief on his face…