Saturday, 31 May 2008


Sugasm #135

After so many days together, rediscovering each other's bodies, I know what I want. What I need.

This time, not to be fucked.

But to examine. To learn. To trust.

I have explained my cuntphobia as best I can although I know there is something more that remains repressed. Some memory as yet unsurfaced.

But, for this man, I will try to reach it and, thus, allay the demons.

We have been naked but for our gowns for days. Our life has revolved around F Words. Fucking, food and films. Fellating him before fucking once more. All orifices have been penetrated. I am his. A fuckthing. And he is mine. A pleasure giver. We have built this fragile intimacy where the slightest touch can signal the moments yet to come.

Looking at myself, naked in his magic mirror. Admiring my slender body that has survived the vicissitudes of pregnancy, the horrors of anorexia whilst still retaining such innate beauty that I could never before appreciate... until I saw it through his eyes.

He lies on the bed in the half-light, watching me. The soft glow from the bedside lamp flattering and accentuating the soft curves as I preen myself prior to returning to his side.

His hand reaches out to hold my head and teases his mouth against mine but this is not the Grail I seek. My lips whisper instructions against his own and he smiles.

Lying back so the full aura from the lamp lights the area in question, I spread my legs and let him see. Yes, he has licked me out frequently but, normally, I try to face away from the lights. I want him to do it but I don't want him to look at it. I want to hide it. The parts of me that I view as somehow shameful. That I won't look at if I can help it.

He reaches out his finger and watches it trace its journey across the soft folds of flesh. Caressing and probing. I can feel the familiar urges of panic start to set in but my mind is laughing at myself, cutting off the Voice inside my head that whispers its disgust. I start to relax beneath his touch, lying back and letting go. The soft sensation of his tongue replacing the finger and the prickle of his stubble is greeted with the softest of sighs as I give myself to him. Opening. Accepting.

Looking down and meeting his eye as it moves up to ensure that I am enjoying the experience and receiving a moan of approval as he flicks at my clit and teases it out from its hood. The tiniest bud that so often hides itself away from his face in self-disgust but no longer.

Surrendering and proffering itself for his attentions until, trembling and liquid, I clamp my legs around his neck and float away, secure and beloved.

And, later, fully exposed to the light as I sat naked in the computer chair with my legs on his shoulders, he took the nail scissors and trimmed the place that I had so hated. Feeling the tickle as he extended any recalcitrant hair trying to hide itself away. The sensation of his warm breath over my most secret parts as he pampered me. Not for any sexual motive but purely for the pleasure of being there and performing such an intimate act... for me.

What price such a feeling?


Friday, 30 May 2008

OverRated: The Fiat Multipla

It may be totally practical but it looks like a wide-mouthed frog and truly must be the Ugliest Car in the World...

I rest my case...

... unless, of course, you know better?


Blog every day in May


Alltop and the Bete Report

A couple of things...


You may have noticed the new link on my sidebar for Alltop. The lovely Guy Kawasaki has deemed me worthy of inclusion in his new 'digital magazine rack' of the internet. He describes its purpose thus:

We help you explore your passions by collecting stories from “all the top” sites on the web. We’ve grouped these collections — “aggregations” — into individual Alltop sites based on topics such as environment, photography, science, Muslim, celebrity gossip, military, fashion, gaming, sports, politics, automobiles, and Macintosh. At each Alltop site, we display the headlines of the latest stories from dozens of sites and blogs.

To be clear, Alltop sites are starting points—they are not destinations per se. The bottom line is that we are trying to enhance your online reading by both displaying stories from the sites that you’re already visiting and helping you discover sites that you didn’t know existed. In other words, our goal is the “cessation of Internet stagnation” by providing “aggregation without aggravation.”

Go over and take a look.

The Bete Report

Bete de Jour is doing a survey of blogs and bloggers. If you would like to contribute, please complete the questionnaire.

Blog every day in May


Thursday, 29 May 2008

HNT - The Ruffian


Hairy Nude Torso.

Lover, best friend and favourite pain in the arse x


Blog every day in May


Sugasm #133

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #134? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Giving a Damn “Something happened somewhere along the way, though. I began to care.”

Catalina loves “Better Sex Through Yoga ”“I’ve tried a lot of things, as you can imagine, but there were even a few new things in there for me!”

Reality Check: Dealing With Assholes “Being able to decline a call is great but bills still need to be paid.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice The Secret Lives of Plants

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Wednesday, 28 May 2008

Growing Old Disgracefully

Ian 'The Machine' Freeman.

A couple of weekends ago, at the grand age of 40, he came out of retirement to regain his British Light Middleweight Cage Fight title from someone ten years his junior. He looked awesome and his fitness was outstanding. He kept grounding and pounding for three five minute rounds and was still fresh as a daisy at the end - much to the astonishment of the commentators.

It seems to me that age is very much a mental issue and, once we reach our mid-thirties, we can go one of two ways.

The first, easiest option is to let ourselves go because it's too much effort to maintain both our body and our mindset.

It is at this time that a man's physique, particularly, starts to change. Where once he could eat what he liked and be sure it would burn off through his natural activity, suddenly this is no longer the case. His slowing metabolism means that a beer belly begins to appear and he starts to lose the definition in his face. An extra chin softens the previously square line of his jaw.

For women, childbearing followed by the advent of the menopause can be equally as problematic. Hips that once were slender have been widened by the passage of children, before becoming a depository for the leftover kids' teas she can't help finishing through boredom and because it's such a waste to just throw it away. Even though she knows she will be sitting down to eat a proper dinner with her partner in two hours. And then she is hit by hormonal changes which, unexpectedly, wreak havoc on even the most svelte and active ladies.

Faced with circumstances that seem to be beyond our control, we can allow ourselves to wander off down the path of self-indulgence. Lying on the sofa being a couch potato, waving goodbye to our once prolific libido and settling for the sporadic comfort of a monthly investigation of the missionary position.

They always say 'Use it or lose it'. And this applies to all the best things in life. If we become stale and blubbery and unhappy, our lust for life starts to dissipate. We become too tired for activities that we once embraced with relish. Cutting back on the things that stimulate us leads to decreasing endorphins and feel-good factor, opening the way to depression.

We need to look at the alternative route to middle age, take ourselves by the scruff of the neck and look after what we have been given. Keep it trim. Exercise and watch what we eat. Walk or cycle when we could have driven. Take up a hobby that will stretch and challenge us, both physically and mentally. And start introducing some excitement into our bedrooms - whether it be by looking at different positions in a partnership or just investing in some new toys for solo pursuits.

Even if some of the more taxing physical hobbies appear to be too excessive, done correctly, stretching and Pilates-style exercises with a Swiss fitball can be invaluable. They have helped me tremendously over the last few months of injury. I feared my toned tummy would disappear and be lost forever but my worries were unfounded as this new, less aerobic regime seems to still be working the required muscles and providing me with at least some form of physical release for all my stresses.

We can't all be Ian Freeman but we can look after what we have in terms of stamina and flexibility. The key is to do some exercise every day and eat healthily at a reasonable hour to allow our digestion to convert the calories effectively into fuel.

Let's confound those who say: "People over 40 shouldn't be having any sex, let alone great sex. They're too old and ugly!"

We should all be sticking up two fingers to our detractors and growing old disgracefully.

I certainly intend to!

Blog every day in May


Tuesday, 27 May 2008

Hero Undone

There comes a time when a man cannot continue to fuck whilst remaining behind the protective barrier of his clothes. He has to remove the symbols of his power, his superhero uniform and bare himself and his soul.

I have always loved fucking my wife. Yes, maybe not so frequently over the past few years with the constraints and pressures of work and a young family. But I still enjoyed it. Our lovemaking has never totally reverted to the formulaic actions experienced by many couples.

And yet I had come to realise that there was something missing. An indefinable, indescribable something that I just couldn't put my finger on... until the day she came into my life.

She took over my imagination, filled me with the deepest and darkest of desires. Relit the fire in my belly, awakened the hunger in my groin until I could think of nothing but releasing the pressure.

Over those weeks, I fucked my wife with an intensity that had been missing for years. There was variety in our positions and uncontrollable passion in our embraces. I thought of sex the whole time I was at work, longing to get home and empty myself into her. But then came the day, the fateful day when the reality hit.

As I pulled my wife up onto her knees, suddenly all I could see was her. That body so permanently imprinted on my memory. The white globes of her butt delineated before my eyes. My hands on her lower back, then holding on to her shoulders tightly, gripping them while I pounded into her. Hearing her screams. One hand reaching round and grabbing her around her throat, muffling the sound. I wanted to hurt her so bad. For making me feel like this. For making me fuck her when I should be with my wife... for making me think about her when I am fucking my wife.

But it only took the thought of my fingers curling around her throat, testing her to see how much she could take, hearing her gag while my cock slammed into her cunt... My breathing increasing its rapidity just imagining that, until I could hear her voice whispering the word, soft and sweet inside my head.

And I was undone.

Beneath me, my wife's long dark hair morphed into the distinctive chestnut bob, their bodies merged into each other so as to be indistinguishable. Two women: one who currently enveloped my body and another who so permanently occupied my mind.

This could not continue. For the sake of my sanity, I had to make it stop.

I would have to try to stay away from her but I just wasn't sure that I could.

Blog every day in May


Monday, 26 May 2008

Sunday, 25 May 2008


Katie commented recently on my post about Possession.

"Totally the opposite for me. The idea of being 'owned', 'possessed' is surely the worst possible feeling for me with jealousy a close second.

What a wonderful writer you are, so 'free' and yet, .. "

It certainly made me start to analyse my desire to be a man's 'thing'.

Ownership and possession are two such strange concepts because I actually find it quite empowering in a paradoxical way. Perhaps accepting and acknowledging my lover's propriety liberates me from the restrictions of my own boundaries.

But, more than anything, I think it is a question of permission. A man can only possess me if I allow him to do so.

Yes, any man is powerful enough to take my body without my consent but he can never gain control of my mind unless I submit and it is that acquiescence which will afford him the greatest satisfaction. To not only be compliant physically but also mentally.

For me, I doubt it could ever happen during a first encounter but could only evolve through a series of interactions and with the growth of a mutual trust and understanding.

To submit by choice is the ultimate expression of confidence and is my gift to my lover. A reward for what he has given me during the journey.

Blog every day in May


Saturday, 24 May 2008


It will be worth the slight delay.

In the darkest part of the night I shall begin the long drive and watch the dawn lighten the sky around me. Spiralling soft sunlight through the mists across the fields of England's Shires.

Early enough, hopefully, to avoid the jams of caravans and scarf-bedecked carloads making their way to holiday and sporting destinations.

My gas-guzzling behemoth eating up the miles between us.

If he remembers not to put the latch on, I will use my key and let myself in.

He will become aware of the coolness of my skin pressing against his warm, sleepy flesh.

Feel the shiver of anticipation thrill through him at my sudden presence in his bed.

Gasp as my freezing fingers tickle their way southwards in search of their goal.

And tremble as my hot mouth fulfils its recent promise.

In fact, by the time you read this, he will be wondering if there could possibly be a better way to wake up on a Bank Holiday weekend...

Blog every day in May


Friday, 23 May 2008


I have to admit to a crush.

When I look at a woman, naked picture or otherwise, it is in a comparatory way. Is she prettier than me? Does she have a better arse or perkier tits? I am assessing her as a threat rather than in a sexual way.

Some years ago, one New Year's Eve, I kissed a woman. And, yes, there are photographs but, no, I will not post them.

I did it partly to please a watching man but, mainly, to cross it off my list of 'Things To Do Before I'm 50'. She was young, she was pretty but I didn't fancy her. Her mouth was soft and minty and she seemed to enjoy having my tongue in it. It was very pleasant but it confirmed to my twisted psyche that I was not a lesbian because I didn't have any burning desire to do it again, nor the urge to rip off her clothing and plunder any part of her anatomy - which is what normally happens when I kiss a bloke.

It was my daughter who introduced me to The L Word. At first, I thought she was making me watch it preparatory to telling me that she herself was gay. But, when I tremulously asked the question, she laughed and proved she was her mother's daughter by replying: 'Nah, I like cock too much!'

It was something we started to watch as a way of spending quality time together. It's really just a glorified soap opera with the added hook in that all the sex scenes involve women. I've found it very educational in that it has introduced me to all different types of women, including transexuals and also a 'lesbian' man who only fucked women with a dildo.

In the beginning, I found the sex scenes deeply uncomfortable. I had to make myself watch them. It wasn't that I felt disgust, just discomfort... even when watching them on my own. Until it came to the scenes involving Shane.

She is the rock star chick who attempts to personify what, I suppose, would be termed a 'butch' lesbian. And I beg the pardon of my Sapphic readers at my total ignorance of what the politically correct terms are because this is all new to me.

I always imagined butch lesbians to be cropped haired, macho type women. The overweight, almost masculine 'bull dyke' with hairy armpits. To all intents and purposes a man... but minus a penis. There don't seem to be too many of them in evidence in the series and certainly not as major characters but I suspect that is for televisual aesthetics as all the actresses are very easy on the eye.

Obviously, from watching the programme, I have come to understand that the stereotypical, jaundiced view of the lesbian partnership - bull dyke with fluffy femme - is not the norm and that they don't always conform to the standard heterosexual understanding of things.

As you can see from the photographs, Shane is definitely not butch. She is pretty and sweet and vulnerable. Her personality is extremely complex but she is very much the tomboy. Sexually, she does behave in a way that would normally be ascribed to the male component of a couple. And she certainly has an androgynous look to her.

In the opening credits to the second series, the women are all dressed in pretty frocks. But Shane is in amongst them wearing a suit jacket and a shirt with a half-slung tie. As the rest of the girls preen, she holds out her hand to her lover in the way a man would. Possessively leading her away from the crowd to kiss her privately. Palms pressed against the wall on either side of her lover's head dominantly. There is something about that movement that is so inherently sexual and, every time I watch, it touches me and invokes the strangest feelings. For it is a woman, dressed in masculine attire, adopting a male gesture. Behaving like a man. It is most confusing.

And so, I give you Shane. The first woman with whom I have ever considered the possibility of getting naked.


Blog every day in May


Thursday, 22 May 2008

HNT - Pearls

Had a bit of a shock with this outfit.

I was late for the party.

Half-dressed, I realised that I had left my stockings in a carrier bag downstairs.

As I stood in the hallway, intent on retrieving them from the glory hole under the stairs and getting back on schedule, I noticed my daughter making frantic hand signals.

It was only when she rushed forward and pulled the door to the lounge closed that I saw him.

Red-cheeked and open-mouthed, my son's twelve-year-old chum sat gawping on the sofa just inside the doorway. I had seen him leave an hour before but not heard him return whilst I was in the shower.

I have no idea what he thought in those few moments as his eyes worked their way down the body of his friend's mother whilst she rummaged in a cupboard wearing only her pearls, a skimpy top and an itsy bitsy black lace thong.

Probably scarred for life!

... Although he has never since turned down an invitation to tea...


Blog every day in May


Sugasm #132

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #133? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Fuck The Pope. “The Church would have you believe that abstinence should be sufficient.”

Good Boy “Despite my outward appearance, I still felt sexy as hell knowing what was underneath those misleading garments.”

May Masturbation Challenge: Progress Report day 10 “At the Dee & Apollo household, it’s early on Day 10 of the May Masturbation Challenge. ”

Mr. Sugasm Himself (one from the vaults) The US Constitution Erotic Coloring Book

Editor’s Choice UK Criminal Justice Bill Clause 63 - but what is “extreme”? - A Beginners Guide

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Wednesday, 21 May 2008

The Ruf Guide to Coital Stamina

Brian asked me how Ruf manages to keep up with my demands and I promised to see if he had any tips for the acquisition and maintenance of physical prowess in the bedroom.

In response to my own amazement at his stamina, Ruf has often told me that fitness is all. And so I quizzed him about pushups and squats but he says, no. Apparently, they help, but it is your cardio work-out that should be paramount. I started to write some of it down but, in the end, it was easier to let him address you himself:

Interval training or fartleks - can be used for any form of cardio work. Running, swimming, cycling, rowing, bagwork (my fave). Textbook intervals suggest a 2:1 or 3:1 ratio, 10 seconds on and 20 or 30 off. This is what sprinters do and, as it sounds, the on part has to be flat out, the off part is recovery. Fartleks involve running at different percentages of full speed, so say 25% for so long, then 50%, then 75% then 90% or something and then walking.

Then once the anaerobic base is built you can go for anaerobic endurance, that is repeated sprints. Footballers will do this training as should other multiple sprint event players. Tennis players, etc. The problem with only doing the anaerobic training as above is that it is not representative of the event in question. For example, in squash you don't often get double or triple the sprint time off!!

The advantage of this training is that the aerobic system is also improved along with the anaerobic. In terms of fucking you can build the required stamina to physically pump for an extended period and can intersperse less demanding 'intervals' with flat out shafting. Of course, it is necessary to develop some control of ejaculation, a less demanding 'interval' can help here as can changing position, which can be disguised as simply teasing technique or similar.

Erection can be maintained by 'working the edge' as porn stars would say, getting close then moving away from it. Personally, kissing usually gets me really hard again if the old fella is wanting a bit of time off. Obviously, some refraction time is required here and there. This can be occupied with eating, which always lends fresh impetus to fucking desire, as energy stores are replenished. As Cake enjoys getting it from various instruments, refraction time can be filled with a triple toy effect: clit, cunt and arse! She seems to like this. And the observed pleasure often leads to restoring hardness. Besides this, there is still the top pocket available which can assist this restoration, if she is still capable of cock sucking. Often its more of a stuffing than a sucking.

Also I find that switching attention from self to other helps delay ejaculation. That is, once Cake is screaming for harder fuckage I can go for that demand rather than working my way to coming, as sometimes a slower stroke gets you there. So switching to a faster rhythm takes you back from the edge.

And if I really need drastic help I think of something completely asexual. A car crash is one I use, or the image of my grandmother is another.

So, there you have it. That's what Ruf is doing in the intervals between my visits and what he's thinking during them - which was certainly an education to me...

But don't forget, it doesn't matter how much stamina you have if you don't know what to do with it or if what you are doing is not stimulating your partner. After stamina, the most important tool is definitely communication.

Blog every day in May


Tuesday, 20 May 2008

TMI Tuesday #135

1. How many credit cards do you own? Are they paid off?

Five and yes - every month. I don't believe in paying high rates of interest unnecessarily. I would rather dip into an authorised overdraft to pay it off and then live more frugally the following month.

2. Can you be in love with someone you don't trust?

For a while maybe. Your psyche will overlook things that, instinctively, it doesn't like because, in the beginning, it is controlled by your genitalia. But it doesn't take long before that overpowering urge has been satisfied and those little niggling feelings start raising their heads to the surface and putting out too many doubts.

3. Should prostitution be legal?

I have yet to be persuaded of a reason why it should not be. Surely it would be safer for everyone concerned.

4. On a scale of 1-10, how good of a lover do you think you are? (1 is lowest, 10 is highest)

If I'm in love with you, I'd give myself a 9. My goal is to please you no matter what and I will take the time to discover what and how you like it best, as well as being willing to venture into all sorts of uncharted areas to satisfy your desires.

5. What are three mistakes someone could make on the first date with you that would automatically make you turn down a second date with them?

Not make me the centre of their attention for the entire date, ie talk about their previous girlfriend and how great she was incessantly.

Make me pay for everything.

Leave me sitting there whilst they make a quick getaway out of the toilet window.

Bonus (as in optional): Tell us about your worst date ever.

A blind date with my best friend's mate as a foursome. I just don't know what she was thinking! He was soooo not my type to look at or in personality. We went to a pub and, despite my best efforts, the conversation was just dull. After three tortured hours, he then drove us home in thick fog and came close to killing us when he overtook a vehicle he thought was going too slowly but was unable to see what was coming the other way. Never again.

Blogging Every Day In May


Monday, 19 May 2008

Mute Monday: Different Strokes

On 19 May 1536 Queen Anne Boleyn was beheaded not with the usual English headsman's axe and block which could take several hacks to be effective but with one stroke from the sword of the French Executioner from Calais. She is famous for saying that she only had a little neck. Her head and body were bundled into an old arrow box and buried in the Church of St Peter ad Vincula near to the execution site within the Tower of London.


Blog every day in May