Jessica’s Naked Experiment


You know when it’s going really well with a guy, but it hasn’t been very long and you don’t want to admit to anyone that you actually really like this one, because that will jinx it and he’ll never speak to you again…?

It’s now the end of January which means I’ve known The Shy One for about a month and as I write that I’m surprised at how little time has passed.

This is happening to me: I don’t want to tell anyone that things are good because you know, when you do, that’s when it all goes wrong. (Why am I writing this again?!)

I was just catching up with my sister and she asked me how things were going with him. “Interesting what a great guy he is – so far! – especially considering how we met!”


This needs an explanation: Over Christmas I decided to have a bit of fun and conduct an experiment – I must admit I was doing it to try to get material to write for this blog! I’ve often changed dating profiles to see what difference it makes and the different types of guys I attract. But this was something I’ve not done before and even went to the extreme of creating a fake Facebook profile with a fake name…why, you ask?! (well the FB thing because you have to connect it to Tinder to create an account.) But the fake name because…

I posted one photo on my new Tinder profile: A naked one.

My face was not there and it was just the back of my body, but I was naked and I was Jessica.

I wrote a full profile mostly stating what I was looking for and what I most definitely wasn’t looking for and then I got swiping.

I swiped and swiped… left, left, left… on and on. Occasionally (very occasionally) I swiped right. Only for men who I was really attracted to. No point wasting your time on ‘maybes’ or the ones that look ok in one pic but you’re not sure in the others, or they’re wearing sunglasses in every shot but their body is incredible…No. Just no.

One of the first guys who wrote to me ended up telling me to get over myself! He had asked me why he should bother putting in any hard work if he can’t see my face or doesn’t know my real name, to which I said, “You don’t have to. It’s up to you to decide if it’s worth it or not and if you don’t think it is, just un-match me.”

One down.

I only had one other ‘bad’ reaction: a guy who just wanted sex. I’d clearly stated that I wasn’t looking for hook ups so he was out (but if I had been, he most definitely would have been in!)

That left several promising matches and I made my profile private after just one day so no one else would see me and I could focus on those guys who did get in touch.

Most of them asked me straight away for a photo of my face but I replied that I wanted to wait to see if there was a connection first and asked if they were ok with that. They all said yes!

There was one who didn’t ask for quite a long time which of course stood out, and I loved the way he asked: “So if we were to walk past each other in the street how would I know if was you?”

I never ended up meeting him despite having great conversation. I think he still had hang ups from an ex even though he said he was over that. Realistically he also lives too far away. Onwards.

The second question was almost always ‘who took the photo?’ Have they never heard of a timer…?

I had the best conversations with these guys. I asked direct questions and they all gave direct and seemingly very honest answers. Perhaps because they could’t see my face it was less of a big deal to reveal truths. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it.

It was really interesting and all but that one told me they were ultimately looking for a woman to settle down with (of course we know they might have been lying, but I didn’t feel they were – they had no reason to.) We talked about a fair amount before it felt like a natural point to tell them my name is actually Naomi and then ask for their number to send them the face pics.

They mostly thought about what it meant for them to not know what my face looked like, but when it came to exchanging numbers that’s where the risk was all mine:  They knew I was attracted to them, but I didn’t know if they would see my face and like it, or see it and decide never to talk to me again! As it happens everyone was polite 😉

One guy wanted to meet up without having seen my face at all – like a one-sided blind date! He was hot and we had good chat but when he tried to call and I didn’t answer or even see his call  due to having no signal where I was over Christmas he got weird and that is a BIG turn off. No. Just no, don’t get whiney with me.

In the end I went out with 2 of the guys: One is a fireman and the other is The Shy One.

He is not the kind of guy I generally go for being shy. I’d normally go for the confident, bordering on arrogant guy – the kind of guy I grow to dislike, the kind of guy who makes every day an unknown quantity: will he be madly in love (lust) with me or will he not talk to me…? I don’t have that with The Shy One. He’s consistent. He’s caring. He’s responsible. He doesn’t want to “get it wrong”. He wants to know what I want to do and what I like. He wants to know I’m ok and he’s got these gorgeous eyes that hold my attention…

It feels like much longer than a month. But it has only been 1 month – December 30th was the day we first met although we’d been talking a fair bit before that.

I think I might have found one of the good ones who haven’t yet been snapped up… Well, finger’s crossed anyway!

The thing is, I’ve realised over the years that as women – bear with me on my massive generalisation here – we tend to think that every guy we start dating is right for us, so we worry about whether or not he likes us. Whereas actually what we need to do is enjoy the time we spend together and work out whether he is someone that we like and whether or not he is the type of guy who enhances our life.

Perhaps because I’ve been through marriage and divorce already I’m less willing to settle, and much more aware of what I want and what I don’t want in a relationship – not that a person is ‘bad’ or ‘good’, but that everyone is their own person, and the discovery is whether or not you make a great team, and if you don’t there is not much point trying to force it. The sooner you let go, the sooner you are open to finding someone who may just be the one who does enhance your life instead of dragging you down and sapping your energy (you know if I’m talking to you right now!)

The Shy One is discovering who I am and I’m discovering who he is. If one of us realises we’re not good for each other that will be ok… but for now it’s Jamie Oliver’s Cookery School and other date nights for us!

Hoping we all find love in 2017… because it would just be nice to have it 🙂


(Single)Naomi x

p.s. Yes, one guy sent me that gif !! haha


Getting fobbed off


Last time you heard from me I’d deleted my dating apps. Tinder, gone. Match, gone. Inner Circle, gone. Bumble, gone. Before I deleted Match there was one guy I was interested in and had exchanged one or two messages with. So, I left him my number, explained I was deleting the app and said get in touch if you want.

Before I deleted Match there was one guy I was interested in and had exchanged one or two messages with. So, I left him my number, explained I was deleting the app and said get in touch if you want.

(I’d also been chatting with an Aussie guy on Tinder… more about him later.)

About 3 weeks later a text arrived from M. We exchanged a couple of texts before he asked me if I was around the following weekend to meet up.

As it happened I’d just cancelled something I had planned for that weekend, so I was available and he asked for my Saturday evening.

Interesting. Guys don’t normally give their Saturday evenings out lightly.

M: “Do you drink?”

Me: “I do…”

M: “Do you have to work Sunday?”

Me: “Are you planning on getting me completely trashed?!”

It had been a gorgeous sunny day but was a little cooler in the evening breeze. I made an effort but was wearing a simple outfit: dark jeans and a light top with heels. As I walked to Putney Bridge to meet M, I did a quick video catch up with Cass explaining I knew pretty much nothing about him except he is 29 – my little brother’s age – is a 6 foot 2 optometrist and lives just across the bridge from me.

That’s it. We hadn’t spoken on the phone and had sent only a couple of texts to arrange the date. Given how often people cancel arrangements I had taken the plans with a pinch of salt thinking he may text to cancel at any time… but he didn’t.

I was excited but also a little nervous as I headed to our meeting place wondering where exactly we would actually meet and if we would recognise each other – always a danger when ‘meeting’ online! Will he be 4 feet tall? Will he have crazy facial hair? Will he be dressed like a tramp…? What is my plan for getting out of this without just have that shocked expression, turning and running away screaming, arms flailing…!

At 8 o’clock on the dot he called me. “Hey Naomi! It’s M.” After the quick “how are yous?” I added, “I’m walking down, probably about 5 minutes away.” He replied, “Great, see you soon!”

Either he was there and waiting or he was also running a little late, but it was thoughtful of him to call me so I wouldn’t have been there standing around on a street corner or thinking I’d been stood up!

I reached the bridge and looked around. I couldn’t see anyone resembling him so I made my way across the bridge looking out at the beautiful views across the river Thames. I find the river so invigorating, but calming at the same time. It’s where I go to reflect and recharge.

Just as I got to the south side of the river M called me again. He’d walked over to my side and we must have crossed over!

Maybe he doesn’t look anything like his photos, given that we must have walked straight past each other and not noticed. Oh, but that also means that I don’t look like mine…

He walked back over to me and I waited trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

As he walked up to me, beaming smile on his face, he told me how amazing I looked. Good start 😉

He looked good too, although I questioned why he was wearing a sweater in that heat…and he laughed nervously and said he thought the same thing. Even though he wasn’t wearing anything under it, he said he’d still give it me if I got cold! Ha!

We went to a riverside bar and got a drink. Anyone who takes me to the river automatically gets points. We managed to find a cosy table and sat back next to each other on the cushions.

Fairly relaxed chat although he would kind of freak out at questions. At one point I even found myself saying ‘Just say what you think or what it is, without wondering if I’m going to like the answer because if I like it then it means I like the real you, and if I like something you tell me that’s not true, then that would be a bit crappy’… or something along those lines.

I don’t know why but I felt really ‘old’ with him. There are younger guys I’ve been out with and felt just the same, normal. But this was weird, like I was having to teach him about life. He was cute, shy, nervous… But that’s not really what I’m looking for.

Cass sent me a video of herself in Cali and since M had gone to get another drink, I was watching it. As he came back he caught the end of it and she was asking me to send a video.

So I did and then… he tried to kiss me on it. He actually half stood up and did a sideways swoop to dive in… I’m like whoaw!

The bar was closing and he asked what I’d like to do, to which I replied ‘go to bed’ without even thinking twice. I said he could walk me across the bridge if he wanted to.

We walked across still chatting, and he held me. He has a good, strong body which I could feel supporting me – I love that. I turned to him to say goodbye and then came the most awkward thing I’ve been asked…

“uh, so… do you… like…. have coffee at your place or something..?

I couldn’t help myself. I just burst out laughing. “Actually, I do have coffee but you’re not coming to have any tonight.”

But I did say I’d like to see him again. I wanted to see if the shyness was him, or a first date thing.

We arranged for Sunday… Saturday came…

“Hey Max, just checking in for tomorrow…?”

“Defo up for tomorrow. Is the evening good for you?”

Sunday came. Sunday went.

“What’s the story Max? Hope everything is ok…?”

Now, I know emergencies come up and I would never assume that someone has just stood me up just in case. I’ll also never let someone get off lightly but just leaving it. They need to explain and apologise for wasting my time.

“I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot! Thought we arranged for Monday for some reason.”

He never got a reply from me. He was ‘fobbing me off’ as my dear mother would say…


Still searching…

SingleNaomi x

I’m busy too!


London men: arrogant, insecure and unbelievably busy.

Gross generalisation? I’m not so sure. Ok, maybe.

It’s London and the vast majority of people here are working on their career. They came to the big city to get ahead, make money, build a career. And yes, we’re busy. We’re all so crazily busy.

It all comes down to priorities and it seems that the London man (and woman?)  is not at all interested in building relationships…at least not a lasting one with a female.

They’re interested in getting laid in the cheapest and quickest way possible. So if you don’t live within 30 mins journey time (actually it’s probably more like 15) then you’re out. No one can be bothered. Unless of course as the woman you are happy to go to them.

What happened to chivalry? What happened to a man courting a woman? Trying to win her?

I don’t just blame men. There must be so many of us women who are only too happy to run around after men that they can afford to have become so arrogant and actually just plain rude.

The Lion is 27. He ‘super liked’ me on Tinder. I looked at his photos and instinctively went to swipe left. Then the two short sentences written below caught my attention:

Passionate, very ambitious, fun loving and old fashioned gent. Life’s one massive adventure! 

My eyes flicked up ‘Managing director at The Albero’.*

I looked up the company and I was swayed: He clearly has a head on his shoulders.

Hmmm…perhaps I should broaden my physical requirements.

I swiped right.

He wrote to me immediately. We just clicked. That same evening he asked for my number and then next day he called me. We talked on the phone for two hours.

I have to admit, I did start to get excited. Not only did he pick up a phone and call me – instead of the seemingly endless Whatsapp messaging that is prolific – he spoke with me on the phone all evening and actually wanted to continue the conversation.

And then the thought came: I knew, as soon as I start to get excited something goes wrong. Cass get’s this same feeling and we’d recently talked about it when she’d met one of her most recent dates who seemed so great… oh dear.

The Lion was continually in touch by text and then later that week spoke again on the phone with a lengthy, fun and interesting conversation. I was really excited to meet him the following Tuesday.

He lives in north London – zone 5. I lived west London zone 3 at the time. His office is in Shoreditch – again, miles away.

But Tuesdays I don’t generally teach in the evening except sometimes salsa in Moorgate. The following Tuesday I had a meeting in Old Street and we arranged to meet after that.

As I arrived at the pub I was apprehensive wondering if it would be the same as always – when you get on with them so well on the phone, meet and there’s nothing there…bleh

I walked towards the entrance and there was this tall, handsome man wearing a suit and as I recognised him, in my head I went ‘yes!’ *fist pump*. Cue beaming smile.
We had such a fun time. A couple of drinks. Then we went to a Vietnamese place for dinner. Then to this hidden away bar with the weirdest selection of boudoir furniture and drapes from the ceiling.

By that time – very late – we’d spent about 5 hours together and were giddy and all over each other. Result!

The next time we met was after one of my salsa classes – again, his side of Town. I texted him between classes and he said yes, let’s meet, he was working late. He asked if I’d eaten. No.

We met at the Tramshed. It’s expensive. I was waiting at the bar being chatted up by one of the female barmaids. He called me as he was leaving the office talking with me all the way till he reached the restaurant. Her face when he walked in.

Screen Shot 2016-07-16 at 22.45.37.png

He’s so charismatic. The kind of guy who everyone notices when he walks in the room. He kissed me and sat down. Our eyes didn’t leave each other from the moment he walked in.

Another incredible night was had. He asked if I was doing anything Sunday. Could we meet up and go to the boat race together? And that it would turn into an evening out and probably Monday together too given it was a bank holiday.

I’m not going to lie. I was really looking forward to it. We didn’t talk too much the rest of that week. We were both busy. That’s ok.

Sunday morning arrived and I hadn’t heard anything. I asked him where he wanted to meet or if something had come up. Later that evening he texted me to say he’d been in hospital with his mum all day and he’d call tomorrow to explain.

He didn’t call. He texted me and told me what had happened. Said we’d try to arrange something that week.

Less and less contact. In the end I took control and said looks like you’ve lost interest, that’s ok. Would have preferred you to just say. I wish you well.

Then came the agreement that yes we were good but wrong time. He was just too busy. He said he wasn’t managing his time well enough with work and friends at the moment and he needed to work on sorting that out.

So I deleted his number to prevent myself from contacting him because I know he would have taken the opportunity but it wasn’t going anywhere. It wasn’t his priority right now.


Maybe you’re wondering what happened to the Milkybar Kid. At 37 you’d think he’d be ready to make finding someone a priority right? No. Work. Golf. Stag dos.

We did try to meet up. Occasionally I’d ask and occasionally he would. But we could never make it quite work.

I was at least happy that a man had finally shown some respect and told me. His message out of the blue one day read:

Sorry I’ve not been in touch, just too busy. This isn’t really going to work and isn’t fair on you. I’ve got a mega couple of months coming up with work and I’m away pretty much every other weekend now for weddings and stag dos, then I shall be working the ones when I’m in London. 

Moving on.


The Canadian – 29 – was the last straw.

Again, not the type of guy I would normally go for so I wasn’t particularly bothered. Suit. Sales. North London. As it turns out, as full of sh*t as the next guy!

The Canadian was sooo into me. He wanted to talk on the phone. Points won for a good start. Then he FaceTimed me! Woah, I was not ready for that laying in bed with not a lot on… We had a quick chat.

Messages were exchanged and FaceTime calls made over the next couple of weeks as we attempted to find a time when we could meet up. He had a friend visiting and was quite tied up. Golf at the weekend – which I imagined was with his friend. But apparently no, he’d left his friend on his own for pretty much the whole day, and you can’t meet me for a couple of hours…? Alarm bells.

I suggested we leave it since it seemed so difficult to find a time we could both do – bloody life of a fitness instructor working when all the ‘normal’ people are not! But he insisted he really wanted to meet me.

So we settled on a Monday lunchtime.

Sunday night FaceTime and Mr Canada says ‘If we can meet near my office we can grab a quick bite’.

I’m sorry, you what?! You want me to travel 50 mins there and then 50 mins back again for a ‘quick bite’. I don’t think so.

I told him. No.

Again, he insisted he really wanted to meet me… but, and get this: “I need someone who can understand how busy my schedule is”.

Are you kidding me?! What a self-absorbed, arrogant prick.

I explained calmly that I am also busy, whilst I may not have a job with ‘regular hours’. I told him that I was fed up of guys thinking that I have to fit around their busy schedule with no regard for my own. I value my time and my attention and I give it where I want to, where I feel it’s appreciated and it’s worthwhile. This doesn’t sit right with me.

The message was quite a lot longer than that but you get the gist.

He replied ‘I totally understand. I think we should meet and see how it goes.’ Apparently It was unfair of him to short change me on time and was I free to meet Saturday afternoon? I’m sorry, am I supposed to be bowing at your feet?! Who the hell is this guy!

I said I’d think about it.

I did think about it. I thought maybe I was being too pissy because of other “I’m too busy stories.” So later I agreed. What’s the harm in meeting and seeing what happens.

We stayed in touch all week and I flew off last minute to Romania Thursday-Saturday morning. When I landed Saturday I turned on my phone to read:

“Hey are you back? I have food poisoning. I’ve been sick all night.”




My reply: “Look after yourself Sean”.

He tried to give me some more BS later but I said enough. Number blocked.

I deleted all my dating apps following this.

What on earth will happen next…


*Name changed for protection of the Lion’s identity

The tall and the short of it


Back in London and Naomi’s testing out tall vs short…

It didn’t happen on purpose: what I mean is, I didn’t purposely look for a short guy and a tall guy to date in one week. It just happened!

Most people mention on their dating profile how tall they are. But when a guy doesn’t you kind of assume he must be below average to short. It’s not always true but some careful detective work will reveal all, especially if they are standing next to other people in their photos or next to things that you know the size of – a doorway, car etc… you get the idea.

Recently I went on a date with a short guy (literally the same height as me) and a super tall guy, who at 6’4″ towered over me! Actually I went to the same pub with both of them – one on Tuesday lunch time and the other on a Thursday evening which was a last minute arrangement since he was ‘passing through’ where I live.

Both men well educated and with good careers.

Mr Short was chatty, confident – although he later told me he’d been nervous, can’t think why..?!  – and a gentleman. We joked around a bit. I didn’t feel any instant attraction or chemistry if I’m honest but conversation was really good.

The height isn’t an issue in itself, but as a woman I like to have a guy who is taller and bigger than me. It makes me feel protected, safe and dainty (if that’s possible!)

My ex husband was below average height and although taller than me I remember (with pain) getting rid of a bunch of beautiful heels because they all made me taller than him. I didn’t want to be looking down to him and I know he wouldn’t have liked that at all.

Previously I’ve asked guys who haven’t specified on their profile their height, but only if we were arranging to meet and I wanted to be sure to wear an appropriate height heel. Some didn’t understand that – why would they, they’re men and probably not thinking about the show situation – and almost took offence. “Oh, you’re height-ist!”

Uh no, I just want to make sure I get my outfit right, you don’t feel emasculated walking around with a giant and I don’t feel like a complete idiot for turning up with heels on that make me feel like I’ve made a terrible mistake!

If I’d shown up to the date with Mr Short donning the 6 inch heels I’d worn to meet Mr Tall that would have been ridiculous! I didn’t actually ask him his height as I could tell from the pics he was quite short so I made sure to wear flats and thank goodness I did: he was literally the same height as me!

What made me feel more uncomfortable was that he was also quite slight. I’m by no means ‘big’ but I do have some meat on me! I don’t want to feel like a whale next to a man. What woman does?!

But, everyone deserves a second date (unless of course they don’t…!)

I didn’t have to wait long for Mr Short to ask me out again. I did find the incessant sending of selfies a bit much though.


Mr Tall had been in touch on Inner Circle while he was on holiday in Disney Land with his family a few weeks ago… Read what you want into that. I wasn’t sure about him to be honest but I’m trying to be more open minded and not just go for guys who I feel an instant physical attraction to.

He had texted me Thursday morning saying he’d be passing through where I live that evening and did I want to meet up. Normally I would have been teaching but that was the morning I’d had a small procedure in hospital and wasn’t able to teach so I said yes I could meet him.

The pub is about 10 minutes walk from my house and it was a pleasant evening so I made my way through the park and along the Grove until I reached the pub on time. He was late. Not a massive fan of guys being late especially when they don’t tell you. It was busy but I got myself a drink and managed to find a table. I’d texted him to ask if he wanted me to get him one but no answer and I wasn’t about to guess.

It didn’t take him too long to arrive, he got himself and drink and joined me.

We chatted pretty easily – it would be hard not to when you first meet someone after all you don’t know them at all so there’s plenty to ask and find out about. It didn’t take him long to ask me about whether I wanted to get married again. I’ve always thought this was not the done thing, bringing up marriage and kids in a first conversation. Isn’t that what men say about ‘crazy’ women..?

I’m not the kind of woman who is desperate to get married and have kids. As you know, I’ve been married before (It was the best day of my life. Ever.) but I’m in no rush to get married again. Some women really want to have children: they have a deep desire to be mothers and that is wonderful. I’m not one of those women.

I’m open to having children (although if you know me you’ll be wondering how on earth I wouldn’t pass out / actually die during childbirth…!) but it’s not a priority in my life. I think I’m a bit selfish… I’m a feeling person, and if I was with someone and we were in a loving relationship and we both felt we wanted at that time to have children then I would. But not just to have kids and tick a box or feel like I have made it as a woman because I have children.

I responded to Mr Tall’s question about marriage and swiftly started talking about something else to change the subject. His face dropped.

I said: ‘I feel like you’re judging me.’

Mr Tall explained that his expression was often mistaken for being serious or judgemental but in reality he was just thinking about something I’d said before. I asked what it was and he went on to say it was about me not particularly wanting to get married again.

Bit dramatic! Come on, we only met about an hour ago!

This is the trouble with online dating: it all gets rushed and weird. Meeting someone naturally the relationship evolves in an organic way. When you meet someone online it’s all or nothing right now. It’s weird and when you’re not interested or they’re not it feels like you’ve just wasted your time.

Mr Tall had driven and asked if we could jump in his car, go back to his area of London and hang out more so he could have another drink or two. In my head I thought: ‘You selfish p*ick. I’ve had an op this morning and you want me to come your way, drink and then you either hope you can get me in bed – not gonna happen – or I’ll be left to find my own way home!’

What I actually said: “I’d rather stay here if that’s ok with you given that I’ve had this op this morning and would like to stay close to home.”

He seemed disappointed. Ugh you are so not the man for me.

We had another drink and then he left and I went to join friends in another bar nearby.

Saturday night I got a text: “No word from you. Assume no spark and you didn’t fancy the slower ‘getting to know you’?! All the best.”

Seriously?! I just replied: “Why did you assume that?”

Ok, so I wasn’t interested and he had correctly assumed. But why assume because I hadn’t been in touch? It wasn’t like he’d taken me on some extraordinary date that prompted me to want to be in touch and thank him or say I had a great time. I was trying to make a point that he was being ridiculous.

He didn’t reply. Sunday afternoon: “Ok. How active do you think you can be now? Plans for this evening? Got something potentially amazingly fun for you!”

He wanted me to go trampolining…

Trying hard. Not attentive to the other person. Has issues. Not for me.

We haven’t spoken again.


I saw Mr Short once more for lunch. He’s so full of energy I can’t cope – one of those people who talks and talks but I’m not sure how much they actually take in about the other person. He would definitely start to p*ss me off if we were in any kind of relationship.


So, height doesn’t really come into it. We all have issues, quirks, good qualities and irritating ones… we just try to find someone who we ‘fit’ with. On with the search!

SingleNaomi x


Update since I wrote this: Mr Tall texted today asking if I wanted to go to Wimbledon with him tomorrow. Haven’t spoken for weeks!

Don’t forget to follow the blog so you don’t miss out on our adventures!



My Knight in Shining Armour!


After starting this blog an old friend got in touch saying he’s got someone in mind and would I be open to suggestions.

What’s better than a friend setting you up!

So a few days later I received an email from Knight.


I literally knew nothing except his name and email address. Of course the first thing to do is Google them and stalk them on Facebook!

Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

He seems funny if anything and my friend is a great guy and wouldn’t set me up with a looney so what’s there to lose.

Knight suggested a walk and brunch Sunday morning. Oooh a morning date – a first.

This set up meant that he potentially knew a lot about me and I instead was in the dark.

He asked me to meet him at Pembroke Lodge in Richmond Park and I said “you’ll have to recognise me since I have no idea what you look like!”

His reply “I’ll recognise you even out of the fitness lycra ….I hope. I’ll work out how I can make myself obvious!”

I pulled into the car park a couple of minutes late (Sunday morning + glorious sunshine + Richmond park = a lot of cyclists, runners and cars) got out of my car and turned around to see a handsome man riding a white horse towards me!

Talk about making himself stand out! My heart was pounding. OMG OMG OMG my knight in shining armour (well there wasn’t any armour actually, just a Barbour coat)!

“Naomi”… I just stood there, mouth open… then kind of giggled.

He reached down, took hold of my hand and pulled me up, my legs swinging round and onto the horse behind him.

Isn’t this the stuff of films?!


Actually, yes it is. That didn’t happen at all! But a horse does feature in this story…

I pulled up in my car and found a text from Barnaby* saying he was queuing for coffee and did I want one. I walked over to the kiosk as at that moment he turned around. “Naomi, I got you a coffee, not sure if you wanted one?”

Yes, thank you. Sunday morning date. I definitely want a coffee!

Barnaby is a fair bit taller than me, brown hair and green eyes (which I love) and definitely older than me. I find out he’s 40 later on, which is ok…around my upper limit. We set off for a walk around Richmond park trying to avoid being knocked over by all the cyclists.

We talked very easily with a lot in common and joking around a bit. At one point a horse with rider came charging towards us and as he was doing so Barnaby said “Oh that’s my house mate. I know he rides but never seen him out.” His housemate was overwhelmingly posh and after a couple of minutes of chit chat off he rode.

We continued to walk and decided for a more off-piste route to avoid the crowds. Circling back to Pembroke Lodge we stopped in at the cafe, sat on a bench in the gardens at the back with a beautiful view.

Barnaby knew about this blog – he’s been the only one so far to know, not because I told him but our mutual friend Matt had. He didn’t want his real name used because of his job which is fair enough and I wouldn’t have anyway. Barnaby was his choice of name.

He was so easy to talk with and interesting conversation at that, but there wasn’t a spark.

We said our farewells and parted company. I would have seen him again – everyone deserves a second date – but I didn’t hear from him again and I didn’t feel inclined to be in touch.

Sadly we didn’t ride off into the sunset on this occasion… the search continues.


SingleNaomi x

*Not his real name.


Was cold a good choice?


This is Part 5

Check out the rest of the story first if you haven’t already:

Part 1: My own Fifty Shades

Part 2: You’ve been a naughty girl haven’t you?

Part 3: Would you want me exclusively for you? 

Part 4: Sir or Master. I want you to always remember who is in control.


What are your plans for the whole day tomorrow? Dom asked me. After I’d told him he said he’d send me a new task by midday.

“It’s time I heard your voice. I want you to leave me a voice note. You’re going to tell me your favourite part of the story so far. It doesn’t have to be too long, but at least 20 seconds. You have until 4pm.”

I kind of wanted to see if anything would happen or if he’d say anything if I left it until after 4pm. So I was late. I sent it. Felt like a bit of an idiot but we’ve gone this far so what the heck.

No punishment. I got a “Good girl.” Then he went on “I’m guessing that’s the first time you’ve verbalised your thoughts on the story out loud.”

Me: “You’d guess right.”

Me (in my head): Oh, you have no idea that the world is reading it all…and although I’m not talking out loud about what’s happening some of my thoughts are being put out there. And, I’m a girl, come on, you really think I haven’t talked to my mates about this?!

He’s probably more talking about whether I’ve spoken words about exactly what I liked in the story, which to be fair, I haven’t been that specific.

He wanted to know if I had any particular thoughts on the task. If thinking about the story again had been a good thing or if was indifferent.

His next task made me laugh…

“I want you to read the next part with other people. Now I suspect you don’t like being rude and I also hate people staring at their phones, however I want you to tell me how it made you feel, how your body reacted and whether it was more exciting than reading it in private.”

The reason it made me laugh is because I’ve already done this, several times.

I’ve read the stories on the tube and missed my stop (a couple of times). The previous part of the story I read at a restaurant out with Minx* and Rose*. They totally know all about this and it was a topic of conversation.

He wanted to know at that moment when I read it in public what is racing through my mind and how my body feels.

I obliged and the following day received the next part of the story at a convenient time (remember I chose cold).


“Good choice” he says as he palm rests on your cheek, leaning in to softly kiss your lips.

With your hands tied, he grabs the blindfold and places it gently over your eyes, you lean forward to make it easier for him to tie it behind your head. Mentally you start to acknowledge just how much you love him in control of what happens. You smile as you find yourself in darkness again but now you’re unable to move and completely vulnerable to him.

You hear ice cubes rattle in the bucket, it clicks, a sharp intake of breath and you mentally question if cold was a good choice.

You feel his presence again, he gently places the ice cube on your lips, you start to open your mouth, but he removes it. It runs down your neck, it’s cold, so very cold, your body tries it’s best to move, but you know it’s pointless. You have to let him do what he wants to do.

The ice cube runs towards your nipple, already hard, your breathing now sharp and quick as it circles your areola. Grabbing a second ice cube, it runs down your right arm. The instant it touches your skin, it’s so cold, but your body heat counters it quicker now, you start to love the contrasting feeling to your hot blood inside your body.

Both ice cubes held on your nipples, he leans in for another kiss, “You going to tell me to be careful again?” Feeling somewhat daring and wondering what else he’ll do, you reply “Yes Sir”. You hear his laugh, he grabs two fresh ice cubes, but this time they don’t return to your nipples…


Me (in my head ’cause I’m sitting on the tube surrounded by people): Phwoah! I just want you to continue!

I get totally engrossed in the story and switch off to everything else around me. Sometimes I wonder if someone looks over my shoulder and reads it what they will think, not because I care, but because I just wonder what they would feel.

I’m quite aware of my body whether I’m alone or in public, I guess that comes with my job – or rather that’s what I learned through dance and is what makes me good at my job – so being in public didn’t make my physical and mental reaction any more noticeable.


(Just out of interest where have you been reading these stories dear reader? Tell me below!)


The following morning I found the next part of the story waiting for me…

Surrounded by darkness, he watches your deep slow breathing, as your breasts rise and fall. He places them on your toned navel, you do your best to keep still, but they don’t stay there for long as you feel them disappear.

They are slowly placed on your legs, just above the buckle of your heels, you feel them being pushed upwards with a hand on each leg, feeling a trail of cold water on your leg. As it inches further up your leg, running along your inner thighs, it makes you shiver, but again it disappears.

You let out a moan and let your body relax, signalling to him that you enjoyed it, before you feel an ice cube between your legs, placed just inside you. Your reaction is the strongest so far, your shoulders dig into the bed as your hips arch upwards, anticipating your reaction he holds the ice cube in place, watching as your body settles.

He removes the ice cube, lifting the blindfold over your eyes, he looks at you without saying a word. Your eyes search his, your mouth slightly open, it’s so intense. You don’t know what to say. Whether you should say anything. You just want him to continue…


Me (in my head): I wonder what that feels like. Do I have any ice cubes? No… (TMI everyone? Sorry…!) That is seriously hot…




He slides a hand between your legs, it’s wet from the ice cubes he was holding as it gently slides up n down your soaking wet pussy. Fingers tracing from top to bottom, gently pushing on your clit, before sliding further down, teasing you, pushing just the tips of two fingers in before pulling them and sliding his hands back up again. All the while his eyes watching yours, watching your lips quiver, letting out the softest moans.

You find you can reach the bed post with your hands, each wrapped around one, you squeeze just a little higher as he rubs your clit harder and faster now. He places his second hand between your legs, with it, slowly, ever so gently sliding two fingers inside, your juices making it so easy for him.

Now you’re really gripping the bed post, with both of his hands working effortlessly edging you closer to your second orgasm. As you spread your legs as wide as you can, arch your back, lifting your arse off the bed, he STOPS…you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sliding both in his mouth, “mmmm” before sliding the blindfold back down over your eyes.

You feel his presence leave your side, but tied up and blindfolded all you can do is wait, and you do with a throbbing wet pussy, how dare he not let you cum…

He runs two fingers from your forehead, past your lips, right down the centre of your body, it’s drenched in sweat, it’s been so intense and you just want more…then you hear an electric whirring sound, it doesn’t second for you to recognise it, he can’t tell, but your eyes open wide under the blindfold….he’s brought toys…


SingleNaomi x

You’re welcome ladies 😉

*Not their real names. Meet Minx and Rose here.


The Safe Choice


A while ago I was sitting with my parents back home telling them about the latest relationship disaster. My dad actually sat there and said “Naomi, next time before you go out with someone please can you check with me first.”

He was being serious.

I haven’t made the best choices especially in their eyes (except my ex husband who my parents still keep in touch with).

My mum told me to make a safe choice: “Don’t go for the exciting ones. Just look at what I’ve been through with your dad.” My parents are still together which I always think is a miracle – not just my parents but in general when people manage to stay together for a long time..! They just celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary…which actually means that in a couple of weeks I’ll be turning 34. Yikes.

The Milkybar Kid is, I think, a safe choice. He owns two gastro pubs in London – one of which is award-winning. Fun fact: He takes a bowl of salad to work with him. Why?!

I don’t look at him and think Phwoah! I want to jump on you right now. 

I feel like that’s wrong.

But I’ve not been making good choices so far, so I’m going to go with this difference and be open to whatever happens.

Last time you heard we’d just had dinner together and he’d gone in for the kiss. Good ones at that. The ones that make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. The non-apologetic grab-and-pull-you-close-to-me type. He kind of surprised me… in a very good way!

When we walked out to the car and he got a hold of me I thought he was going to slam me on the car bonnet… fantasy land reigns in my head!

At dinner he’d told me he was going to an antiques market Tuesday morning and with our evenings being quite difficult to coordinate, what with me teaching classes and him dealing with the two pubs, I suggested I could go with him. Nothing more was said.

Monday morning text: “So how do you want to do this? Your place is a bit out of the way for me to pick you up in the morning. I can meet you there directly or you’re welcome to come stay at mine tonight and I can drop you home afterwards on my way to the pub.”

I’m so glad it was a text rather than a phone call so the dilemma that ensued could happen relatively out of his sight.

It wasn’t like we could spend the evening together: I was teaching that night and wouldn’t have been able to get to his until 11pm at the earliest.

My sister immediately got a text asking for advice – she’s currently traveling in India and regularly gets an audio diary from me in the form of a voice note on Whatsapp. We’d recently been discussing how long you should wait to ‘sleepover’.

There were a few choices:

  1. Say I’d meet him there in the morning. Downsides being that we’d miss out on half the time to spend together by traveling separately. Are they the quiet, we don’t say a word to each other in the car type? Radio-listener? The non-stop chatterbox (ok, I knew he wasn’t this one already). But there is a chance to get into a good conversation on car journeys. Risk him thinking you just want to be mates.
  2. Stay at his and insist on sleeping on the sofa. Bit weird. Is an option.
  3. Stay and his and go with the flow. Don’t walk in and jump on him but maybe don’t hold my hand up in his face and refute intimacy either.


I met my friend Jen* for lunch that day and she told me how she had got with her now husband: A story which I love!

They worked in the same company and Jen thought he was out of bounds: partner and a daughter. They grabbed a drink one evening and talking he made it quite clear he was into someone at the office. She was a bit thrown by this convinced he was taken. But he cleared that up saying that the relationship had broken down but yes, they did have a daughter together so the mother would be in his life to some extent but not as his partner.

In her innocence she then got excited about who exactly it was in the office he had been taken by and insisted he tell her.

“Really Jen?!” He couldn’t believe she hadn’t caught on!

Now, you should know, Jen is beautiful – one of the most naturally stunning women I know and we just ‘get’ each other instantly. We grew up together and although lost touch a little when I lived out of the country, we’ve always kept our friendship alive. She’s confident in what she likes, thinks and does. She is one of those people who has her own opinion on what is the thing to do and how not to treat people. And I LOVE that about her.

So anyway, of course he told her “It’s YOU!”

Back in the office he’d mentioned needing to re-decorate and she offered her painting services. So that weekend off she went to his place, ended up staying over, and – this is the best bit of the whole story – she took some spare knickers and toiletries with her and turning to him said, “You don’t mind if I take a small part of your top drawer do you? I mean I’m going to be coming back, right?”

Just brilliant!

Now I didn’t pack extra things to leave at his place, but you guessed right, I did stay with the Milkybar Kid that night.

Quite unusual for a guy in London to own his own 2 bedroom apartment without anyone else renting the spare room.

No, I didn’t use the spare room. Nor the sofa. Judge me if you will…!

I was pleasantly surprised to discover he didn’t have a small penis – the bane of women’s lives everywhere (gigantic penis being the another!) – unlike the other ‘strawberry blond’ man (aka the Lion) I met a few months ago, who I will tell you about another day.

A good size. That’s what you want. And someone who knows what he’s doing with it. Not trying to bash you into next week with no regard for the fact that he’s probably bruising you somehow in the process. And no, when I am in control don’t try to take over with your weird pelvic movements that totally ruin the moment.

Sorry, went off on a tangent there…and that’s probably enough on a post in which I started out by talking about my parents…


So, recap:

Stayed over ✔︎

Stole part of the top drawer ✗


Naturally the wake-up the next day wasn’t quite as early as we’d planned…actually I should say the wake-up was the right time but getting out of bed was not.

This meant we spent a bit longer than necessary in the car due to hitting rush-hour traffic. So I got to know a bit more about the Milkybar Kid.


Suffers from road rage ✗

Likes to challenge himself to find the quickest route possible ✔︎

Did we get there any quicker? I’m not so sure…


Radio listener? Yes. It reminded me of being in the car with my dad when I was a child. He did turn it down to pretty much off when we got underway though so we could actually interact which scored him points.

He’s not the most talkative person. He’s interested but he’s preoccupied – at least that’s what I’ve understood so far. It’s very familiar to me for those who run their own businesses. He was also driving and trying to navigate his way around the traffic so I get it. I just tried to ask lots of different questions. He answered but he’s not great at continuing a conversation or moving onto another topic.

He was away on holiday for a week after that and we managed to see each other again Tuesday. He picked me up from Northcote Records after he finished work and I was…well, let me just say he walked in to find me being flung around by one of my mates dancing around to ‘You ain’t nothing but a hound dog’… a little bit tipsy (otherwise known as drunk). Not normal Tuesday night behaviour for me but it happened, so yeah (photographic evidence above).

We have a good time together but it’s not extraordinary.

I just want to find a man who’s attractive, got a great smile, great eyes, amazing arms, is bigger than me, affectionate but will get a bit crazy in bed, is charismatic, interesting to talk to, has an opinion, is passionate about at least one thing, can fix stuff (or organise for someone to do it), has a job he’s excited about, lives (fairly) close to me, wants to spend time with me, is not a whinging child and who excites me… too much to ask? Apparently…!

Should I be waiting for the ‘extraordinary’ or has that ship sailed as they say?

To be utterly honest I envisage a life with the Milkybar Kid being moments of greatness, followed by periods of loneliness as the partner/wife of a businessman who is always preoccupied about something else and has little time or brain-space to have conversations.

But of course I might be completely wrong. More time is needed. At least he isn’t hassling me all day with a barrage of texts and phone calls, but still shows interest with his “When are you not working next?” text. He wants to see me and I want to see him. But I’m not going to stop seeing or talking to anyone else at this point.

I am of course breaking the Millionaire Matchmaker’s rule…!


SingleNaomi x


Your thoughts are invited 🙂 No judgement here. We’re in a safe place called the internet … hehe! No, seriously, we’d LOVE to hear your thoughts, YOUR stories, YOUR experiences and YOUR advice. Comment below or you could even email your story to us:

*Not her real name