Tag Archives: sex club


The hot Ribena guy

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Categories: Misadventures, Read More, Sex, Tags: , , , , , , ,

My favourite non-alcoholic winter beverage is Ribena served hot. I know, it’s a strange thing for a woman to be obsessed with hot Ribena but there is a story there my precious.  Oh what a story.

Like most things do it all began at a sex party. I was invited by a guy I had met online and straight away upon meeting him and his breath I knew it was a non-starter. The party was slow despite the usual veterans bragging about previous exploits whilst looking nervously to make sure that no called them out for lying. There was no real wet fantasy making talent. Oh, if you believed the men in the room they were pros who could put Justin Slayer and Lex Steel e to shame. But you learn to figure out the BS from those with any potential. At this rate there would be no action for me which is sad because it’s a waste of a good ensemble and all that pre sex prep. I wasn’t a happy bunny. No really, I was dressed as a bunny.

Additionally being a word of mouth party it was decidedly more amateur than one would have liked.  For starters it was in a 2 bedroom flat. Hardly room to swing a cat let alone a whip. This was the party where I first learned what jeggings were as some girls had not gotten the dress to sex memo.  I was just about to make an early ‘still could catch the tube’ exit when…I spotted him.

He was a tall hot brother in the kitchen corner who had managed to slip past my beady eye. Think a young Tyson Morris hybrid but more lean. I must have been distracted by the veteran tale of him and 2 women on a bucking bronco.

Now there are rules to sex parties and one is that women generally approach the men. The other is that you don’t hang around when you see something that hot cos it won’t be around for long. The vultures were circling. So I went over, moved the amateur vultures to the side and discovered that he was a sex party virgin. No pontificating or gesticulating wildly about past adventures he said he was just here to observe. Shrugging nonchalantly I settled in for a chat and somehow managed to persuade him to get involved. He was 23, worked in fitness and was a very, very quick study. Surely it would be remiss of me and a shame for him not to have the full sex party experience.

So, partied out, it was time to head home and he offered me a lift? Bless him, he really didn’t know how safety etiquette worked at all. I felt it only right to accept the offer and explain the ins and outs of the sex scene for his benefits. I know my precious, I’m a giver.

Hours later I was thanking the sex goddesses for this random blessing ( he was very blessed)  plus we were uber dehydrated so I offered him a drink. He said he didn’t drink any hot drinks or juices. Huh? I wasn’t to be defeated. I am not the best hostess but no one leaves my place without a drink. What would my African ancestors say if they heard about this? Eventually he said he loved hot Ribena. That night I could only give him water but the next day I went out and bought the family size bottle of Ribena.

And so began our pattern of meeting up for hot sweaty  sex followed by cups of hot sweet Ribena. The sex died a natural death as let’s face it he was 23 and had a tendency to sulk. But the Ribena has stayed with me heating up many a lonely night. So, a toast to Ribena and the young men that introduce you to it. To Ribena!

© Chelsea Black


The secret agent -sex date

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Categories: Misadventures, Read More, Sex, Tags: , , , , , , , ,

This is a sex date so be warned.

sex date secret agent match

Every once in a while the internet dating gods deem you worthy of a good experience. They didn’t bestow this blessing often and never on match.com but this time I’d hit the jackpot.

He was a 40ish black American cage fighter who travelled regularly on business to the UK. He had a hotel room booked and wanted to meet there for ……coffee.

My precious he was hot! Shaved head, banging body, sweet lips and the intimate pictures he sent me made my gay friends envious so I knew that he was worthy of a trip to Heathrow. An area I avoid unless it’s for the extreme pleasure of travel out of the UK.

It was all hot email exchanges as he didn’t do small talk but he told me exactly what he wanted to do to me when we met. That’s never a bad thing. We arranged to meet and then I promptly forgot about him as I had suffered way too many internet disappointments after promising starts. I’d learned that lying was a regular part of the virtual experience. I honestly didn’t even think he would turn up.

On the morning of our meeting he wrote and told me what he’d like me to wear. He wanted me to turn up in only a  boomerang raincoat / lingerie ensemble with heels and stockings. Now, normally I am game for a little role play but it was cold and I didn’t feel that getting ill for shags by travelling half naked on the tube made sense. So I cheekily changed downstairs at the hotel. A girl with a plan.

I nervously knocked on his door, opening the coat a little to reveal a little cleavage and my prince is ….a few inches shorter than I imagined? A tad disappointed I comforted myself with the knowledge that he hadn’t lied about the body, the lips or …….anything else. Besides I was wearing ridiculously high heels. Yes his voice was more falsetto than mine but I figured he wasn’t much of a talker.

Ah my precious, it was well worth the effort. He did exactly what he said he was going to do and a lot more.  Finally after months of disappointing encounters I had met a grown-up who knew what he was doing. I sent a prayer to the internet gods.

Suitably relaxed he revealed that he was a cage fighter AND secret agent for the US government. Was this a part of the role play script he had forgotten to send me? I wasn’t aware that secret agents are supposed to reveal their secret.

I hoped to let it slide but he had brought props. A fake looking FBI badge and a walkie talkie he’d clearly borrowed from a child. It turned out that my grown up was delusional and fully committed to his role play.

As I took the tube home it hit me……maybe he wasn’t really a cage fighter? But to be honest I really didn’t care.

© Chelsea Black


My shameless night

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Categories: DATING, Misadventures, Read More, Sex, Tags: , , , , , ,

After the sex club experience I was sent an invitation to a private party where the main meal was billed as….black men. Yes my precious, I had stumbled across an appreciation society for black men and it was on Saturday!

Curious and being semi control freakish I emailed the organiser and wanted to check if the fan club was open to black women or was it an interracial thing. Well she told me that absolutely was it not just interracial and that they had a great mix of black and white and her email went on and ok ok chica! I said I’d be there.

It was really cheap and that should have alerted me but what with it being in a home county I figured that this was without the London weighting. After a futile argument with the cabby who had decided on taking the scenic route I jumped out at the private house and he zoomed off still arguing. I turned towards the house and was greeting by ……police tape, 2 police cars with flashing lights and a bunch of black men waiting outside?

Turns out that the organisers had had an argument and a physical fight had broken out. The private party was now a police crime scene. I wasn’t impressed and judging by the men outside I REALLY wasn’t impressed but something told me that I wasn’t about to see that particular cab driver again. I had no choice but to venture in.

The place was barren and there was no heating. They were using the gas cooker rings to light spliffs and cigarettes. Tonight was not my night. I kept my coat on because carelessly I hadn’t worn much and it was bloody freezing. I must have looked miserable because some stomach with a man attached said, “Cheer up princess, it might never happen.” It had happened. I’d landed in a chav like nightmare

So what’s a girl to do but to latch on to the least offensive looking man in the room and appoint him my body guard whilst I called a cab to take me back to London. Bruce was a black cab driver whose wife thought he was out earning money not attending sex parties. He proudly told me it was his 2nd.

I looked around and noticed that most of the black men didn’t look like the hot specimens on the website. The majority were dads and uncles to people my age. They stood around drinking Guinness and swapped war stories of parties gone past high fiving each other. But, where were the women?

Then the women arrived. I suddenly felt like I was in an audition for Shameless. Surrounded by sagging breasts and bellies that had clearly seen more cock than I have chocolate I knew this was my cue to exit stage left.  Besides, the uncles were starting to look really hungry.

So that was a shameless night out my precious but thank goodness I’d found the one black cab driver in the mix.

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