Sunday, 28 December 2008

Helpful Boyfriend is Helpful

I woke up in my lover's bed, which - although a year ago I'd have said you were 'avin a laugh if you told me I'd ever say that - didn't really surprise me, not least of all because I didn't sleep that well, even after

- a movie
- a very cosy bed
- many snuggles
- (un)acceptable touching
- frantic sex
- violent male orgasms
- teasing
- licking
- more licking
- sensual female orgasms
- story reading
- spooning

I guess I'm just an insomniac.

Nevertheless, I woke up a little dreary, went straight back to sleep and was then woken up again by a second alarm, and then didn't manage to get back to sleep, because TD seemed to be talking herself awake - which is a quite good way to do it, actually, I should try that - and realised with a heavy heart that I needed to get home, because a 2000-word essay on chronic heart failure really has to be the highlight of a Christmas break.

This was when she had the remarkable idea that - wait for it - I could just stay here. Yes, she has to go to work, but I could be here when she gets back. I've done that before, after all (although that time she didn't know I was here). And what's more, she has a new laptop (behold my casual logging into my own account), so - with incredible force of will I brought some notes with me and even pencilled some suggestions in on the train - I've now:

- set up her laptop for the Internets
- downloaded Firefox
- downloaded Thunderbird
- tested a Mac OS package I've been meaning to test for months on her brother's Mac (thanks, Her Brother)
- written 600+ words of my essay (that's going to need some serious cutting down, but 600 words in an hour is still below my usual ability, I'm taking it steadily)
- e-mailed it to myself

And so... now you find me sitting in her room, with her fully set-up new laptop (Windows Vista is awful though, why couldn't they finish it before releasing it?), listening to music I'm streaming directly from my own server, blogging away merrily while trying not to sing along, and wondering if I can cadge a bit of lunch from her dad, looking forward to her return, and glancing at the graphic novel - and two Belle de Jour books - that await my perusal this afternoon.

I am content.

Saturday, 27 December 2008

Hating Skating

Despite it being a festival of love and all, there's rarely a lot of time for sex over Christmas. In my house, with my mother raging and storming throughout the day when one thing's out of place, there's rarely any time for anything, never mind any sexually-related activities. Spending Christmas with my family, there wasn't anyone to have sex with anyway, but I usually spend a period of my alone-days dreaming about a certain someone. Usually the times when I have my right hand clasped around my... but that's neither here nor there (more's the pity).

My dad - master of dry wit, third only to Humphrey Lyttleton and my uncle by marriage (who never, ever stops) - ruminated upon the prospect of going ice-skating again (we went ice-skating on Christmas Eve, with the wiser of us sitting my the side drinking hot chocolate. I was weaving my way through slower skaters with ease and a dash of egocentricity, but I don't think anyone noticed. Good skaters are never noticed among the many casualties you get.), bringing with it the idea of people falling over.

"I don't fall over," I said. "I never have and I never will."
"You've just jinxed it," my mother said.
"True," I said. "I don't think [TD] would like it if I hurt myself, although she'd probably laugh a lot."
"What?" interjected Dad. "She likes you being horizontal?"
"And vertical," I responded. "And both, and 71, and..."

...and then I stopped, because I realised half the people sitting at the table were elderly relatives. Still, it made my dad laugh.

And at least I didn't say 69.

Tuesday, 23 December 2008

Gold Mother

"I don't think it's very gentlemanly to mention sex on your LiveJournal."

I glanced at my mother briefly, and tried to appear disinterested. I know perfectly well that she reads my LJ; what's more, since I started ILB I haven't really mentioned sex at all. The comment to which she was referring is a tongue-in-cheek aside in which I mention the word 'sex'.

"I didn't really mention sex."
"You talked about it. I don't think it's very gentlemanly."

The only comment one of my friends had left on my LJ had been a positive one, she'd been amused by the mention of sex.

"I'm not going to explicitly describe sex on my LJ, Mother; I just don't see what's wrong with one tongue-in-cheek mention of the word."
"It's not very gentlemanly."
"Since when was I a gentleman?"
"I don't think it's appropriate."

She's rehearsed this, hasn't she?

Sunday, 21 December 2008


This FAQ is designed to be an improved and updated version of the original. All old questions will be answered, some new ones added and if you think I've missed anything out, e-mail me and I'll answer that too. Hey, I'm a nice enough guy.

Who are you?
I am Innocent Loverboy, commonly known as ILB. I write a sex blog as well as doing other things.

Age / Sex / Location?
23 years old / Male / London.

Relationship status?
In a relationship with The Drinker!

What's your main job?
I was a teaching assistant for two years, and since then I've switched. I'm actually in training at the moment, so I go to University (one of the top ones, but I won't say which) for a vocational course, but I spend most of my time 'on the job' while learning the skills. I'll qualify next academic year!
Oh, and yes, sexual knowledge helps in this job too!

What's this blog for?
It's still a sex blog. I'll admit that a lot of the posts are about love, but I'll still write about sex when I want to!

When and why did you create it?
Exactly one year ago - 12 December 2007.
I'd been reading sex blogs for ages, and very few were written by boys. There are now a few more that I'm aware of - Todger Talk and The Edge of Vanilla are examples - but most of them, and especially the more famous ones, were written by girls - the Channel 4 documentary only ever mentioned the girl sex bloggers! In my personal blog, I'd mentioned love and sex a few times, but I wanted to muse more upon the topics than I did, so I started a more anonymous way of conveying my thoughts - thus, ILB.

You still clam you're different. What makes you so different?
There are, again, a number of reasons for this:
(i) I place much more value on love then sex. I'm not saying that other people don't (by all accounts, other people should), but to me, love is vital - sex, while fantastic, can only be a side-effect of love. I can both merge and separate the two very quickly. I can also fall in love very easily.
(ii) I'll admit that sex happens for other reasons than love - I've experienced that myself - but I prefer to link the two.
(iii) I like softcore erotica. I don't like hardcore porn nearly as much.
(iv) I'm genuine and honest. I don't smoke, drink, do drugs or even eat meat. And it's not all a facade, that's just who I am.
(v) I'm incredibly shy to ask people out. In fact, I don't ask people out. I have such a morbid fear of rejection that I don't even try. Otherwise, I'm quite an outgoing person.
Basically, I'm not your typical 'lad'. Not trying to stereotype boys, of course, but the unfair image that has been applied to them definitely doesn't apply to me. I don't even like sports of any kind! In real life, the idea that 'boys only want one thing' isn't true. In fact, in many cases they can be much more romantic than girls!

Why are you using Blogger?
A lot of sex journals are written in Blogger. There are better blog services out there, such as LiveJournal. However, places like LJ (and I already have an LJ, anyway) are much more personal-based and it may not be very prudent to start a blog there if I wish to remain anonymous! Also, quality of blog service doesn't equal quality of blog! There are sex blogs on LJ that are truly atrocious!

How many people have you had sex with? / Do you regret any of them?
I have had sex with six people:
- One long-term girlfriend (we lasted a year and a half).
- One close friend (a few times).
- One "lover" (a brief sexual relationship).
- One stand (and it was awful, and reckless of me).
- One friend (and we're now okay, although it confused both of us for a while).
- One more long-term girlfriend! Huzzah!
I regret a few of them - in fact, most of them except #1 and #6 - except, at the time, all of them (but not #4) felt right. The ones I don't regret - surprise - are the ones wherein love was involved.

When did you last have sex?
Two days ago!

How often do you have sex?
Well, I can't really say that it's a planned thing, but it tends to happen pretty much once or twice every day we are together, unless it's a flying visit. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It depends on the feeling, y'know? And then there are those times where you don't have the sex, but the effects are felt...

Who are the people mentioned on this blog?
Okay, well, what a question! Single Student has a list on her blog's menu which links to the appropriate people, which is helpful. I may as well list peoples here.

The main players on this stage are:
- ILB: Innocent Loverboy, a sensitive and engaging boy with a rapier wit and a big head.
- The Drinker: A lovely girl who happens to be my girlfriend and also writes a blog.
- All other sex bloggers are referred to by their blogging name.
- H: Is my best female friend. Her sexuality appears to be uncertain, but she has a lot more experience than me.
- 47: Is my best male friend. He's one of the very few people who knows I am also ILB, and he's clever enough to have worked it out himself. His friendship is an acquired taste, but I can tolerate him!
- Mini: Is a close friend who I don't see nearly enough, and I told her I am ILB. She's cool with that.
- Flirty colleague: She is just that.

The girls are:
- Rebecca: Was my first girlfriend, who cheated on me repeatedly and then left me for another guy.
- Louise: Was my friend who I had sex with. She now had a girlfiend and appears to have calmed down her oversexed activities somewhat.
- Alicia: Is an older woman I had a brief sexual relationship with. She was fine, last I heard.
- Lily: I had a stand with. She was selfish and uncaring, and she hasn't talked to me since. I'm not that bothered.
- snowdrop: Is a friend whom, in a joint MSN conversation with me and 47, started showing more of an interest in me and ended up sleeping with me. In the confusion that followed, which messed with both of our feelings, everyone got hurt a lot and we both ended up with different people by the end of the week. She is now in a steady relationship and very happy. I feel awkward around her now.

So what happened then?
Well, I was quite upset, and worried for both myself and snowdrop, and I was, after a week, invited - on the spur of the moment - to visit The Oxford Seamstress (who has since changed her blogging name - it's all very complicated), who was also slightly stressy about her finals. I visited, catching a very late train to Oxford, randomly. We met, got on, and becoming enchanted, we had sex and then hooked up. The following evening, we went on our first date! We've now been "together" for about 8 or 9 months, and I'm totally and utterly in love!

Can I talk to you? / Can I ask for advice?
Since I started writing ILB, I've actually counselled a few friends of mine (mostly female friends such as FL, but 47 at one point as well), who all seem to be grateful for an innocent loverboy's point of view.
The answer, anyway, is yes. You don't even have to talk about relationships - Jessie, Glamour Girl and Anna have all felt okay with chatting away to me informally, Drinker - evidently - is my main conversationalist (that's not even a word, is it?). If you want to ask relationship advice (well, opinions), just drop me an e-mail or add me to MSN (same address) and we will talk, promise!

Will you go out with me? / Will you sleep with me?
NO! (Sorry.)

What do you look like?
I'm tall for my age. I'd describe myself as 'average build' even though I do have a slightly large stomach (although apparently I'm the only one who sees it as being large, everyone else says it's fine!). I have short black hair, and sparkly blue eyes (my eyes are the only feature about my physical appearance I'm totally happy with).

What do you think is the best post you've written?
Public Display of Attention was probably my favourite to write. It's been quite well-received, as well. I also like what came out of Je t'adore, which I originally intended to be much shorter!
Hmmm, that was very difficult to choose! I guess I like my own writing too much.

What else do you write?
Songs (I'm the lead singer of a band and I love it), poetry, reviews and fiction. Through university, I was a staff member of the paper, and when I was young I ran my own self-produced thingy! I was so enterprising back then.

Who are your favourite band?
I have very eclectic tastes in music, but my favourite band must be James.

What's next for this blog? Will it be self-pitying and lonely like the first half, or sickening and lovely like the second half?
I'm sure I'll find new and interesting ways to disappoint you.

And that's it for Year One! Fantastic! Thanks to Drinker, Blacksilk, Lady Pandorah, Lace Stockings, Tom Allen, 47, Mini, Glamour Girl, Older Woman and anyone else who reads and/or comments on this blog! I'll see you around, and we should all hope to share more of our writing!

Feel the love, people.

Saturday, 13 December 2008

trung-san, sole wa nani desu ka? anata wa tomodachi desu ka?

My last post dealt with something I saw in a newspaper and that turned into a discussion about London freesheets, but I didn't mention the Metro.

I don't generally read it in the evenings - it's a morning paper, after all - but I saw a picture on the front cover that I recognised. Yep, definitely Doctor Life (as opposed to Doctor Light. Sorry. Needed to do that.) - as publicised on Tom's blog. I flipped forward a few pages, now drawn into the paper bu a vague connection to my sex blog browsing...

...and saw this.

A Canadian guy named Le Trung (actually, that sounds French-Asian, but apparently he lives in Canada) has built himself a girlfriend. I've watched a short film on plastic love before, but this isn't really the same thing. Aiko - the name of his pretend girlfriend - is a highly sophisticated android, costing in excess of $20,000 (WTF?!). She can recognise faces, do stuff like butter toast, pick things up and even speak (English and Japanese. Hmm.) - and as this video shows, she can feel pain, too. She even slaps you when you touch her breasts.

I've got to stop using so many hyperlinks. Okay, no more hyperlinks now.

The main problem wth the way the Metro was reporting it was that it seemed to assume Aiko was Trung's girlfriend, and although he does seem affectionate with her, he's never actually claimed that she is as such - she can be programmed for sex, he says, but he has never done that - "AND yes Aiko is still a virgin, AND NO I do not sleep with her." Thanks for clearing that one up, Trung.

The reason I'm writing about this is because I can almost sense the inevitable backlash - once people get more news of this, they will talk. Of course, this is in Canada, and the UK won't get much story about it (thank Glod, or the Daily Mail would have a field day). But there are going to be people claiming that:

- Trung is wrong for trying to replicate the bulding blocks of life
- Aiko will never be similar enough to humankind
- This is perverse, for some reason, and maybe he should get a life for himself except of making one
- He's lying, and is using her for sex

Personally, I don't actually have any problem with it. Trung's claim is that robots like Aiko could provide around-the-clock care for elderly people, which is actually possible and something that any naysayers may not have considered. If you are lonely, or isolated, or just need a companion, then maybe Aiko wouldn't be such a bad person to have around. I'm not entirely 'with' the Metro in that they've played up the fact that she doesn't answer back if you switch her on - in fact, that's one of the worst things they've ever printed - but I'm intrgued by this whole story. It's fascinating.

I wouldn't want an Aiko to play with. I'd much prefer the real thing, and she may be good at maths, but I can't imagine a conversation about the changing world of Shakespeare with her. But I would like to have a conversation with her - I've been amused by AI ever since Talkie Toaster popped up on Red Dwarf. She does sound a bit like a TomTom autoroute device, though.

There's a site about her here. Oh, damn. I'll have to punish myself now. Maybe there's a robot that could do that somewhere...

Tuesday, 9 December 2008


You probably can't make out the text in the image here, but I can transcribe it for you:

To the tall, dark stranger who let the blonde girl on crutches hop on the Tube before you on the Victoria line from King's Cross, Sunday 30th. I thought you were lovely and wish I'd spoken to you. ANON

I almost always read thelondonpaper. Its rival, the London Lite, is actually run by Murdoch, and therefore holds no journalistic merit whatsoever. On the way home from work, I'll sometimes find my iPod out of battery and automatically reach for the first copy you find on an Underground train somewhere. And in the centre, just after the "look-what-club-Lily-Allen-fell-out-of" section, thelondonlove section is home to articles about love that I could probably do a better job of writing, some stuff about whomever married whom recently, and the column on the right, in which you text in to tell everyone that you vaguely saw someone in London who
you like the look of (even if they may be a git).

This section, Lovestruck, I always read. Just like everyone else in London. I don't think I'll ever be spotted, and in any case I'm attached, but it's always fun to read. And then, yesterday, the above popped up, second to last, in a two-column edition of Lovestruck.

"Hang on," I thought, "that's me, isn't it?"

Tall? Check.
Dark? Check.
Strange? Check.
Sunday 30th? Check.
Victoria Line? Check.
Blonde girl with crutches? Check.
Lovely? Well, you decide.

Of course, it could be another tall, dark stranger who let a blonde girl with crutches onto the Victoria Line on that particular day. I don't know how often that happens. It probably isn't me, but it matches me perfectly, and that's odd, and a little gratifying.

I'm attached, so I don't think I'll reply (you can't reply anyway, it's not a dating service, just a text column). But isn't that just a little bit odd?!

Monday, 8 December 2008


"You know what's funny?" said 47, as we were standing in a line waiting to see James.
I was about to answer, and was almost ready to do so while trying not to sound either excited that I was about to see James, or worried that snowdrop (who was a few yards away) would come over and hit me or something. But then I realised that 47 wasn't actually talking to me.
"The one thing I know about you," continued 47, "is that you haven't had your leg over for a year."
Since I had sex on Wednesday, this confirmed that I wasn't the intended recipient of his comment; rather it was directed towards a rather abashed-looking girl that I'd never seen before.

It actually turned out that 47 hadn't ever seen her before, either. Neither of us knew who she was; nor did snowdrop, or any of the other people standing in the line who we hang about with at the gigs. She was just a random James fan who had (I was pleased that my ears hadn't been deceiving me, because I heard it too) just been very randomly vocal about the fact that she had not, indeed, had her leg over for a year.

"A year?" I asked, not wanting to feel left out of either the conversation or the slightly taboo act of discussing sex in Britain.
"Almost exactly a year. To the day, in fact," she replied.

She then went on to take part in the conversation we were having before she had made her ingratiating remark. Every now and again, however, she managed to slip in a reference to her having not had much sex recently. Amusing as this was, it did eventually lead me to ask her if that was all she ever thought about.
"What, sex? Yeah, pretty much," she answered.

Well, you can't argue with that, can you?

Saturday, 6 December 2008

Heavy Flow... of Cash

You know what? I get paid a measly £6K a year, considering I work 12 hours a day, because I'm not actually qualified yet.

You know what? I don't drink, smoke or do drugs, so I have no major vices, except the internet and sex.

You know what? I only recently remembered that I have subscriptions to sites which let you download sex scenes from late-night softcore movies you'll get on Channel 5 and Cinemax.

You know what? I don't really need to be subscribed to such sites any more... so I cancelled all my memberships.

You know what I did with the money I saved? I booked a holiday for next Valentine's.

You know what? I'm a lot happier now.

Thursday, 4 December 2008


There's something certainly romantic about holding hands while wandering along the South Bank. It's generally an amazing place, actually; nowhere except London has that sort of pulse to it, but the Palace of Westminster and London Eye are lit up really nicely at night, and even when it's cold, if you're going to be strolling along the South Bank, night's the time to do it. In fact, after an odd evening/night/morning combination consisting mostly of Charlie Brooker, Family Guy and sex on the floor, there aren't many places to end up that are better than the South Bank. Well, there's Forbidden Planet, and a coffee shop that does better drinks than CCK (marginally, although for atmosphere I'd still prefer CCK), but we'd already been to both of those.

We weren't just randomly at the South Bank, though... although it's something we would do, a random trip to the South Bank via geekery and coffee, and maybe one day we will... there was, in fact, a German Christmas Market happening along the river's edge, and so after buying an overlarge garlic bread covered with cheese, we wandered relentlessly through the Central-European stalls, procuring fudge (some of which was nice, some too sweet), playing musical instruments shaped like animals, buying puzzles as stocking fillers, and having the first ride on a merry-go-round I've had since the age of about 14. There's something special about sitting next to a squealing girlfriend, and holding her hand while rocking up and down on wooden horses while scary fairground music threatens you.

I can't wait for Carousel to hit London next year.

After exhausting the Germans, and their wares of course, we went to an expensive, but very nice, quintessentially middle-class restaurant and had our respective meals, followed by the inevitable trip to Paddington. The train to Oxford took a cruelly long time to leave, and all I could do was stand there and wave. I turned and made my lonely, but enlightened, way home. I ended up actually getting a fair amount of sleep.

I made it into work this morning, which was distinguishable by not being particularly interesting, although the first thing that I noticed was that I hadn't been placed with my flirty, emotionally-charged colleague, who is characterised by her almost-orgasmic moans when she gets to rest her feet (and we are talking, "oh, that's gooood" here) and her slight nausea over the sight of blood. Me being me, I've been counselling her for these things, because I'm A Nice Person™, up to the point of holding her up with a hug at one point, but today I found myself telling her to just go home, after she proved herself of being unable to stand up during a break we incidentally had at the same time.

Even so, I didn't work with her anyway, so during the two-and-a-half-hours she was there, I missed her company and had to do my work on my own (for "work", also read: "writing a poem and a song", because I found time and energy to do that). Then again, given the mood I'm in at the moment, I probably would have related my romantic whimsical story to her, and friendly as she is, that would have probably made her even more nauseous, even if I find it all aesthetically pleasing. But then again, I'm biased, aren't I?

So... you lot get it instead! Aren't you lucky?