My name is Jill Boyd. I am 21 years old, from Belgium. I am a virgin who has decided to blog about discovering sex and the frankly bonkers world of sexuality. I also write erotica and have a particular fondness for Australian chefs.
This you know.
You might also know that this blog… all 6k and-a-bit-posts of it… is not one big invitation from me to you. My words are not subtext (apart from some of my fiction). Unless your name is Jason Statham or Michael Fassbender, I am not inviting you to take personal liberties with me from the word go.
Oh, this you didn’t know?
Hold on, let me back-track.
A few days ago, I got a friendly message from a new follower. Funny Man, as I’ll refer to him, told me that my blog was excellent for killing time on a train journey with. I replied, hoping to start a nice conversation.
However, Funny Man is (as he said so himself) a bit direct.
We started chatting about the “anal cherry” post from a while back. And this was apparently the moment where things got different. You know, sexual and stuff.
It ended with me telling him he might find himself on the blog. He told me that this was no problem, as long as I tell him what I want from him…. And think about him when I’m masturbating. This was an actual thing that happened, by the way.
I don’t like this sort of directness. Not with people I’ve just met, anyway.
It got me thinking about what vibe I’m giving out with my Twitter-feed and blog and all sorts. Seemingly the wrong one! I appear to be sending vibes that I’m up for this sort of stuff.
It’s not at all what I set out to do when I started this blog. I wanted to have a place to track my sexuality and write about something near to my heart. I wanted a place where I could share this with people.
And apparently, these types of messages are bound to happen at some point. I want to set the record straight about something. Your mileage may vary on this subject, fellow sex bloggers.
I do blog about sex. But that does not mean that I now automatically want to have sex with you. I do not appreciate your directness. Not from the get-go. I’d appreciate getting to know you first. Maybe try being my friend?
I know it’s terribly naive of me to not expect this. But I guess I just felt slightly… invincible as a blogger. No, scratch that… untouchable. But I am not the exception. I am not the Elliott Ness of this entire game. And realizing that left me feeling terrible.
So, I’ve been away for a few days. Contemplating stuff.
This is not the only thing that happened by the way. I’ve been getting neck spasms more frequently. The doctor on call had to be called at quarter past midnight on a Friday to come and see if I didn’t have kidney stones because of sudden shooting pains in my lower back. It turned out to be colic.
But fuck, that was a fright.
I came to some conclusions. Big ones. Happy ones and sad ones. For example, as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve kinda lost myself on the erotica front. I want to be angry with it. Throw rocks and kick it in the pretty face.
I’ve also come to the conclusion that I need a new project to work on. So, I guess this is my way of telling you that there is going to be a second blog. But more on that when it comes to that.
I want to close with a message to Mr Funny Man.
Mr Funny Man.
I hope I haven’t driven you away with this. I really meant it when I said that I’d want to get to know you better. I just don’t take well to directness from strangers.
So, if you don’t mind, I’ll refrain from thinking about you whilst I’m wanking.