Sunday, 8 November 2015

The time my friend punched my ex in the face

The second time in my life I had ever invested too much of myself into a man was with Kay. "Like the letter", that's how he introduced himself. 

Sunday, 11 October 2015

Naughty Makeup Giveaway | NARS, Charlotte Tilbury & Too Faced

It's no secret that I used to be a beauty blogger, heck I even wrote a post about it once! And although my love of writing about beauty may have diminished, my love for makeup however, has not. So here we have it, my two loves colliding in benefit for yourself, in an awesome sexy giveaway featuring my favourite bits of beauty (tried, tested and LOVED!) with the naughtiest of names (because who doesn't like naughtily named makeup products amiright)..


Monday, 5 October 2015

Shortlisted for the Cosmopolitan Blog Awards

So guess who has some pretty crazy news (spoiler: it's me!) if you hadn't already heard from my  rather manic bulk of tweets yesterday, I discovered that I've somehow managed to get myself (or more specifically my blog) shortlisted for 'Best Sex and Relationship Blog' at the Cosmopolitan Blog Awards 2015. How Exciting! 

Friday, 2 October 2015

All about the contraceptive implant (and about my experience)

Although I've dabbled in several different forms of the contraceptive pill, the one thing I have stuck with is the contraceptive implant. When I say stuck with, I literally mean stuck with. The contraceptive implant is a rod about the size of a bobby pin inserted into your inner arm that prevents the likelihood of falling pregnant. It may sound incredibly scary (and also quite like the start of a bad SciFi movie), but having the contraceptive implant isn't half as terrifying as it may sound.


Thursday, 10 September 2015

The Ego Boost

I'd been sleeping with Jason* for around two years now, the last year of it I'd been asking myself why. When once our escapades were once exciting, adventurous and created unforgettable experiences that I'd replay often at night. Our visits to each other were now far more mundane..
We'd meet up, do what we came to do, and go our separate ways. Sometimes we wouldn't even talk before, or kiss during. Before I would spend the night, we'd watch movies and actually converse in one way or another, now I'd be lucky now to get more than half an our out of him. Heck some days I'd make a cup of tea before he'd arrive and it would still be warm by the time he left. No longer did I feel his warm skin on mine for longer than a brief moment, nor would I feel his large arm hooked around my shoulders. My hand wouldn't even trace his chest, as though it were uncomfortable with being around his heartbeat. It was like we'd managed to use up all the passion in the early days and now there was nothing left but the badge of promiscuity that we both held so tightly and wore with such pride. Although I had strained to tell myself otherwise for so long, the sex was no longer about pleasure for me. And as he came and went each time, I started to wonder whether it was entirely about pleasure for him either.

We had what I would refer to as an autistic relationship. We were about as disconnected as two people could be and these days, could barely look one another in the eye. Our conversational skills were that of a three year old who's drunk babysitter had let him watched an episode of South Park. Our highly intelegent discussions consisting only of  'Oh', 'Yeah' and 'I'm gonna cum'. They were less heart-to-hearts and more head-to-heads, you could say. Sex for me, has to be passionate to be good. That passion could come from excitement, being with someone new, trying something different or even as simple as having a connection to one another, even just as friends, and understanding each others bodies. When we were together our bodies were less like the back pages of compilation magazine and far more like two magnets being forced together at the wrong end. I didn't know how to move around him anymore, we were stiff, awkward, hands and legs everywhere but never where he wanted them. I didn't get it - I could get sex, crazy, passionate, hot-blooded sex elsewhere. So why, why did I still yearn to see him so much more.

Maybe it was a quick fix, to fuel my unhealthy obsession with his body, a little something every now and again to top me up. Maybe it was  because I loved the convenience and flexibility of our arrangements, and the simplicity of our relationship together, or rather lack there of. Not having to over-think or over-complicate anything did make sex so much easier. But perhaps it was deeper than that, because every time he left, my mind wouldn't stop bothering me 'what was the point of that', 'that was a waste of time and you know it', and I did. 

You see no matter what my I thought in the moments when he left my house or I left his. If he calls me up any time thereafter I will be there. He can have me, whenever. 

Why? Because despite my dissatisfaction with our frequent exploits, He gives me a kick. I get a kick  out of him wanting me. Not because I want him, never have I had feelings beyond fantasies for this man, but because he is the type of guy that would never want me in the real world. As Taylor Swift would say, 'he's so tall, handsome as hell'. He was big, strong unbelievably attractive and ridiculously successful. The type of guy you would far sooner see papped with a gorgeous model hanging off his arm than anywhere with the likes of me. If given longer I would be able to stare at him for hours,  boy that body could send someone to A&E. He was perfect in every feasible way, almost to the point that it irritated me.

I however.. am clumsy, pale and the type of person that has facial features one might refer to as 'quirky'. I almost always have a bad dye job going on, and I always, always say the wrong thing. I am  quite possibly the farthest away from perfect one might imagine. When I've been with men like him before in a romantic manner, it has always quite frankly gone tits up. They never wanted me for a prolonged period of time despite my sincere infatuation. I guess perhaps seeing Jason was just a way for me to keep the fantasy alive. To pretend for half an hour or so that I was more than I really was.

So if I'm so imperfect you might wonder, why did he keep coming back? The simple answer would be because he can. He's a guy and I have a vagina,  A + B = C.  But I think with him it could be more than just that for him. Just as I do, Jason needs to wear his badge of promiscuity for reasons farther than letting the world know that his metaphorical taxi light is on. In the years we've been sleeping together, as far as I can tell he's never been with anyone romantically. He's shy, unbelievably shy.  It's hard to imagine what he's like around other women. I think maybe in many ways he is just as insecure as I am, and he needs me to it prove to himself that he's not. That he can have whoever he wants, whenever he wants.

In reality we're both faking it. In it for all the wrong reasons, insecure and constantly in search for the unmistakable aphrodisiac of an ego boost.

Belle x

*all names changed for anonymity 

Saturday, 5 September 2015

My sex education experience

sex, education, blog, sex blog,

I have no idea whether sex education has improved since I was in school but my experience was definitely unhelpful. I had three bouts of the 'education' from the united kingdoms educational facilities. Two lessons in primary school, two in secondary school and one in college. Neither were more helpful than the others.

Sunday, 16 August 2015

Someone Else's Prince

They day I met him was like no other yet, exactly the same as the 7304 days before it. The sun rose in the morning, cast shadows in the afternoon and set in the evening. But when I saw him. When the sun hit his neck as he turned from facing the sea to look at me. His eyes near transparent as the sun shone through them and his skin an orange glow as the rest of the world started to fall dark. The smell of the British waters, the way my heart sunk before I had even heard his name. That was love, before I even knew it.

He towered almost a foot taller over me, always making me feel tiny. At that moment, and every moment after I spent stood next to him I would feel protected. His eyes were small and his jaw chiseled. The type of boy you'd sooner see in the centrefold of a women's magazine than stood next to the likes of someone like me.

“Robin” he said “My name’s Robin”.

He showed me euphoria for the first time. He snubbed my cynicism like a lit cigarette to a puddle. He made that single room in this small town feel like a castle. He made me feel wanted.

I was a fool to think a boy like that could ever love me.


It's infuriating when the person that broke you gets their happy ending and you're just left behind. Staring at their life from afar as through a mercy window. Looking from the outside in at what you believe should have been yours. Trying to piece together the puzzle of their quaint togetherness. Asking yourself countless questions to which you may never know the answers.

Why her

What did I do to not deserve you

What is it about her that I could never be

Why did you treat me like nothing and her your queen

You see this is reality. Reality doesn't cater to the expectations we learnt from the fairytales we grew up being spoon fed. It's not always fair and sometimes good doesn't win. Good is left lonely, crying to herself sat on the edge of the bath tub. Knowing that she was not a princess and that he was someone else's prince.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

Dating Outside Your Type

,type, man, date, dating, first date, stock, photo, couple, love

In one very memerable episode of sex and the city Carrie goes to a shrink who tells her that she has a problem, she chooses the wrong men. In response Carrie insists that it's the wrong men that pick her. The episode ends on an ironic note, when the beautiful man she met in therapy turns out to have a problem too, he looses all interest in the women he dates after he's slept with them. Carrie then realises that she does in fact, pick the wrong men. I love this episode, I love it because I can relate to it so, so much.

You Can Call Me Belle..

As you may have noticed I signed off my latest post with Belle x instead of my usual NJS x. Belle is not my real name. Not Just Sex was created as an anonymous platform for myself and other guest posters to anonymously (or not if they'd prefer for readers to know who they are) stories, experiences and opinions about all things love and sex. 

The reason I decided to change my sign off from NJS to Belle is to add a more personal touch to the blog. Something for people to refer to me as, know me as and for me to respond to as. So there it is, my new name.

Belle x

And the winner is.......

As you may remember, a little while ago Not Just Sex teamed up with Love Yourself Online to launch an exciting competition! The (very exciting!) competition was to win a 7 Function Waterproof Vibrating Rabbit from Love Yourself Online.

The competition has (unfortunately) now ended, and time has come to pick a winner!

We'd like to congratulate Lottie (Lottie_xo on twitter) on winning the prize and thank Love Yourself Online for the awesome collaboration on this competition!

Stay tuned for more posts and competitions coming up on the blog soon!

Belle, NJS x

Tuesday, 14 July 2015

Does dating a transgender person make you gay?

Does dating a transgender make you gay?

Gigi Gorgeous is one of my favourite bloggers/people. She's beautiful, strong, independent and  transgender. I watch her videos religiously and google her constantly. A friend of mine also shares my obsession, she is also however a little more curious than I. When looking into Gigi online, shefound a forum disguising whether or not men would date someone who identified as a woman although they had been assigned a male at birth. The responses were generally the same old schmuck you'd imagine. 'Of course not, I'm not gay' - ' Doesn't matter how hot a girl is, if she used to have a dick I would never go there'.


Friday, 10 July 2015

Why the 'I have a boyfriend' excuse is the worst

I have a boyfriend stop

So you're just walking down the street, minding your own business and trying to get where you wanna be. You see some guy running up behind you and you know for sure he's gonna try one of two things a) chat you up, or b) mug you (you're kind of hoping it's the latter). He gets you talking and even after several blunt replies and sarcastic Lucy Watson bitch stares he still doesn't get the message and asks for your number. What's your response?


Monday, 6 July 2015

Things that make me swipe left of Tinder

tinder, swipe, left, right, how to, date, sex

Tinder, love it or hate it we can all say we've tried it. For some, it was simply a fling, for others swiping became a full time addiction. Tinder is a place where guys and gals from all over can decide within seconds whether or not they would ever date you, as a result it becomes instantly important to make a great first impression.. In this post I will talk about all of my tinder turn offs and turn ons, what makes me swipe left, and what makes me swipe right. A tinder perspective from a 20-something year old girl.. enjoy

Thursday, 25 June 2015

Why He Hasn't Called/Text - Explained

I have to say, I've spent more of my dating life hanging around waiting for a guy to call or text than I would like to admit. Sometimes it would be a guy I'd just met who seemed interested in me, sometimes it would be after a date and sometimes it would be with a guy I was seeing.


Saturday, 13 June 2015

How to find out if you have Chlamydia without leaving your bedroom

chlamydia, test, from, home, symptoms,

Waiting around for what seems like a lifetime in a small eerily dark room avoiding awkward eye contact with other people before spreading your legs in front of a stranger who prods you with an unidentified but painful object. No I'm not explaining the average Friday night at Tiger Tiger, this is my general experience of sexual health clinics.

Tuesday, 28 April 2015

The Last Virgin Standing

[This is a guest post from a friend of mine - I wanted my blog to appeal to a wide range of people and so she was happy to share her experience. This post is about the struggle of being the last virgin out of your group of friends, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did! NJS x]

Saturday, 25 April 2015

Have you been 'ghosted'?

So you meet a guy, and he's great. He's everything you've ever wanted - you'd almost go as far to say that he was at least verging on perfect.
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