Fucking firemen in the Channel Isles!

A few weeks ago a guy got in touch with me through a dating site. He was lovely but a couple of years younger than me and further away than I was looking for, having done the long-distance relationship thing and found it lacking. I mailed him back and told him this, he said he was planning to move back to mainland in the next six months so we get chatting. Which extends to text messages. A lot of them (he was hot!)

Today I got an email to say I have a much larger than normal mobile phone bill. After cursing No 1 Son for subscribing to phone porn I log into my account, only to discover that every text I sent to the the firefighting jodoka that I never even met has been charged as a international number! ffs!

The bastard cost me £35 but wasn't worth 35p in the end.

P is looking like a much better prospect, emotionally, sexually and financially - in T-Mobile terms.

Is it Sunday yet? I need it to be Sunday so I can meet him for real and have our silly conversations over a drink rather than over a mobile network. I need to be able to touch his hand, arm or thigh when I'm laughing at something he's said. I need to sit close to him and listen to the lovely timbre of his voice whilst looking up at him with my big, blue eyes and that 'kiss me, now - you know you want to!' look on my face.

Sadly he's a Capricorn so taking him somewhere (semi)private and sitting on his cock won't get me into his soul. I still think I'll fuck him wildly tho, he's fabulous.