Their cock is a thing of beauty. Just the right length, the perfect thickness, wrapped in his fist and then, when he drops it, landing hard and heavy on the pale expanse of their belly. He lies on his front between their open legs, and as he lowers his head he closes his eyes. They’re…
I couldn’t really have written this post before today. It’s New Year’s Day and I’m lying in bed, knickerless, unwashed and underslept after a very much- needed evening of slutty hedonism, silliness, dressing- up and legs akimbo laughter. In so many ways 2018 was a sparkling year in which I learnt and grew and achieved…
I want more. I want all of you, all of it. Everything you have to give, every inch of it. I want every pore, every wrinkle, every drop of sweat and tear and come. I want the hair and ink and breath of you. I want you inside me. Fingers, cock, tongue. I want…
This is my first #soss post- I’m trying to impose the structure of the meme onto my chaotically ADDled brain, and formally send shouts out to the fabulous writing of some of my fellow bloggers. (Actually, even saying that feels weird- do I really feel like I can call myself a blogger? I have a…
1. What is sexy time to you? Is this question asking what time of day I most associate with Sexy Time? I don’t have an answer to that question. I am as much a fan of night- time nookie as I am of breakfast bangin’ and midday monkey- business. I have always believed that, as…
I am writing again at the moment, but I haven’t anything ready to go on the blog, and it’s been too long! So here’s some TMI to keep you busy while I labour heartily in the wordmines. 1. You can only keep 3 things: (pick and explain your choices) Coffee Jewelry Books Chocolate Wine or…
It hasn’t been an easy week. He is recovering from the closing of an enormously stressful chapter in his life; I have been struggling with overwhelming insecurities. Fears about our future, envy of the time he spends with other partners, terror that one day I will show him so many of these nighttime corners that…
Guys- there’s a little stripe of red along my thigh crease and I’m guessing it can only be from having my knickers torn off last night. That’s kinda cool, huh.
3. The Cathedral I turn onto my side, my phone in my right hand, my left slipped between the cushiony warmth of my belly and the scratchy lace of my g- string. My little fingertip brushes wire and furze but this hand will move no lower, not today, whatever the temptation. And this is some…
Without wanting to sound like a complete hippy, there’s something about his energy that I hugely enjoy. I like the combination of the Northern accent (redolent to my ignorant Southern ears of hard masculine labour, callouses and soot and a very erotic sort of directness) and an acrobat’s grace. He makes me think of those…