Monday, 30 June 2008

You're Not The Only One Book Meme

Isa tagged me to do the Book Meme. I actually did this once already a couple of months ago but, of course, I've finished the book I was reading then, since I am quite a voracious reader.

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence and post the next three sentences.
4. Tag some people.

Well, naturally, the nearest book is the one I've been reading this weekend. 'You're not the Only One'. Intimate Stories from the Internet. Compiled and edited by Sarah J Peach.

Pushing my way past a dear old, unassuming senior citizen, I exited the bus, jettisoned my can of rapidly cooling piss into a nearby litter bin and sought the nearest wall against which to finally, utterly, relieve myself. And relief is such a small word to describe the ultimate feeling of joy as finally, the spasms in my bladder gave way to an intense, euphoric, almost orgasmic feeling, my tears flowing freely now.

As luck would have it, I had alighted in Bramley.

Extract from 'Psssht' by Philip Copland

I have finally completed this book and have to say how much I enjoyed it. Not just because it is the first time I have ever seen anything that I wrote in print. But because of the quality of the stories contained therein.

I spent the weekend with Ruf and we read some of them together, after I had insisted he look at a couple of my favourites.

I really don't think I can not mention 'Joseph' by Uncle Norman. I won't tell you what it's about, only say that it was one of the most frightening and moving things that Ruf and I have ever read.

Also, honorable mentions for 'Touch has a Memory' by RonJazz, 'Laying it Bare' by Stephanie Shaw, 'Return' by Colin and 'The Girl on the Train' by DBA Lehane

The book has now raised £1000 for the War Child charity in about three weeks. It really is worth the read and, if you buy online, you will be contributing an even greater percentage of the price to the charity.

Sunday, 29 June 2008


And so, like the layers of an onion, the crux of the matter revealed itself to me.

Myself, so young and unworldly.

My first close childhood friend. J.

Bosom buddies, inseparable.

We cannot have been more than seven or eight.

And yet, this is what I remember.

I'm lying down, flat on my back.

I can see the ceiling. Wooden slats. Some kind of garden shed.

Smell the earth on the floor beneath my body.

I can't quite see her face clearly. My memory has blurred it.

But her hair is a soft brown, shoulder length and fuzzy.

It is not the first time we have been here.

She is holding a stick.

It is on me.

Rubbing across my lips, exploring the folds through my cotton knickers.

I am not complaining.

Did I do the same to her? I cannot recall.

There is no doubt that, lying in my bed at night at that very young age, I know I imagined myself restrained and explored.

And, after she moved away suddenly, did I punish myself and my cunt for the next four decades?

For certainly, in some convoluted expression of disgust, I denied the recognition of any pleasure in such activity.

Just what was it that I repressed...?

Friday, 27 June 2008

OverRated: The British Stiff Upper Lip

In The Times last Saturday, there was an article entitled 'We've Lost that loving feeling' . The main thrust was bemoaning the fact that Britons are becoming a very lonely and repressed nation.

A survey showed that 39 percent of us forget birthdays, almost a quarter rarely say 'I love you' and more than a fifth say that we constantly forget our manners.

Combine this with the results of the Hugometer, which showed that a whopping 65% of people try to avoid hugging wherever possible and 10% of those never embrace anyone at all.

I'm very tactile. Ruf will tell you this. I cannot walk past him without trailing my fingers over some part of his body to show my appreciation. I say 'I love you' far too often but I can't help but utter the words when I feel the emotion. I embrace and kiss people of whom I am fond or who have played an important role in my life (however insignificant it might seem to them) to say hello and goodbye. It's the way I show that I care for them, no matter how infrequently I see them.

I lived for so long in a world where this sort of behaviour was not welcomed and deemed almost unacceptable that I had closed in upon myself. Stifling my personality and my lust for life and becoming shrivelled and shrewish. Perhaps, as a result, I overdo my enthusiasm and joy in other people but I will not apologise for that. If I make you feel uncomfortable, then sobeit - but I will not desist.

Thankfully, there are many people in my world who deem me worthy enough to return the compliment regularly. I just wish I saw them more often.

I think that, invariably, the British Stiff Upper Lip approach sucks! Being recognised as a nation that is synonymous with sangfroid when it comes to matters of the heart is a definite disadvantage in forming any type of relationship. If you care about a person, express it openly. In most cases, the recipient will be very happy to receive a boost to their self-esteem and it is a very mutually beneficial experience.

Go on! Give someone a hug!


Thursday, 26 June 2008

HNT - Venus and Mars


Standing across the room from him, dressed in a favourite basque and the ubiquitous black holdup stockings.

Arms coyly behind her back, well aware of the effect the ensemble is having.

She says:

'So, tell me.'

'Tell me why you want me?'

'Tell me what it is that turns you on so much that you can think of nothing but me?'

She needs to have his affirmation that she is beautiful, exciting and that he loves her.

Lying back against the pillows, naked and stroking a huge erection, he considers her carefully and replies:

'Because you are fit.'

'Because you make me laugh.'

'Because you are the best fuck I've ever had.'

'And because you love my cock.'

She smiles and raises her eyes to the ceiling, before moving across the room to prove that all those things are also true.


Sugasm #137

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 #138? 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
I can only be what I am .“It’s strangely refreshing, to really submit and give up that control, and not have to make decisions.”

Over the Edge “He tells me to hold still, in that soft, controlling voice of his.”

A Story Told Out of Order and Out of Character - Part 4 “You thought you could just come to my room and tease me?”

Mr. Sugasm Himself Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice A former slut examined

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

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

Tuesday, 24 June 2008

The Look

Sugasm #138 Editor's Choice

Tracing his fingers over her nose, across her eyelids and around her mouth. Over, across and around; over, across and around.

He watches the exhaustion followed by a myriad of destructive emotions write themselves across her face and chases them away.

Bringing her body expertly from stress to repose until there is only peace and tranquility.

He allows her psyche to become still and drink in the pure aroma of his presence.

Permits her baser instincts to tip the scales in favour of rejuvenation.

Feels the shiver transmit itself from her mind to her body and smiles as her features take on a different expression.

Her eyes open and register his face.

The pupils dilate and the set of her jaw goes from submission to determination.

From calm relaxation to wanton desire.

It is 'the look'.

She wants him with every cell in her body.

And what man can resist that siren call.

Monday, 23 June 2008

Saturday, 21 June 2008


I have been tagged by the Fat Controller. I'm not sure where it came from originally or I would, of course, give them credit too.

1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning of the post.

2. Each player answers the questions about themselves in their post.

3. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

4. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.

1. What was I doing ten years ago?

Summer 1998. Well, like FC said, I'd have been glued to the World Cup and in a weekend's time I would have watched both my teams - England and Italy go out of the final eight on penalties. I would probably have been wearing leggings and a big tshirt, sitting in a sea of lego and other plastic toys wondering if there shouldn't be more to life than this. Inevitably, I would have gone to bed early and pretended to be fast asleep when my Husband came upstairs. And then I expect there is every chance that I would have drifted off to sleep whilst
dreaming of making love with some handsome television or sports personality. I believe my favourite diversions at the time were the gorgeous Italian Paolo Maldini (my crush for the previous eight years) and the very rough but extremely passionate Chilean Ivan Zamorano. I can remember as clearly as if it were yesterday seeing him sing his country's National Anthem. The fervour and patriotic pride he infused into that rendition was truly unforgettable. The idea of having such a man take me into his bed opened up a pandora's box of possibilities that such a vanilla housewife should never have envisioned.

2. What are five things on my list to do today?

Undoubtedly using the washing machine. I have teenagers so clothes are invariably placed in the laundry basket whether dirty or not as it avoids having to put them away. Laundry, of course, leads to ironing.

I will try to get out in the garden and pull up a few weeds so I can get some fresh air.

I have to do a set of Pilates exercises every day which takes about an hour.

Naturally, I shall gravitate at some point to the bathroom and use my toothbrush. There is nothing more invigorating on a dull day than a five minute sojourn in my haven.

Five minutes you ask? Well, yes. Sometimes less. What turns me on? Well, in a totally narcissistic way for which I shall not beg your indulgence, I like to think about a man wanting me. Desperate to have me. Feasting his eyes on my naked arousal and telling me how much he desires me. That feeling, combined with the soft bristles of a vibrating disc on my clit can take me over the edge within a few moments. The hot tingling tide surging up my body from the button to my mind, the world goes black and I am falling downwards until the cold tiles of the wall on my back bring me back to reality again. Definitely never five minutes wasted because it improves my mood no end.

3. Things I Would Do If I Were A Billionaire?

If money were no object, I suspect I would buy another house/flat close to my current one as a bolthole. I would pay off the mortgages of all those closest to me. Naturally, I would like to feed all the starving millions and bring about World Peace, but Im not sure whether a billion would be enough to reach those who are truly in need when so often the funds have to go through the hands of people who want to take their cut. Perhaps I would start a charity closer to home for disadvantaged teenagers.

4. Three of my bad habits?

I am an attention ho.
I am an attention ho.
I am an attention ho.

5. Five places I have lived?

I have only lived in five places. I was born in my first house. Moved to what I regarded as our family home when I was five. A few months after we got to the third house, my mum left and I became a home-maker at the age of 17, along with my studies and a part-time job. After a couple of years, I moved out into the flat that my Husband and I bought together and from there to my current home.

6. Five jobs I’ve had?

As a housewife and mother, the list is endless! With regard to paid employment, mainly secretarial stuff. If I told you about the job I get a salary for now, I would have to kill you :)

7. How did you name your blog?

Pretty self explanatory really. I had tried many times to improve the state of my marriage but without success. Faced with the choice of following in my mother's footsteps and deserting my children, I came to the decision that I didn't want to change the quality of their life or, in effect and quite selfishly, my own. The phrase just came into my head of its own accord and, having found the man who was prepared to help me achieve that, when I sat there pondering what to call my blog, it seemed obvious.

I need to tag 5-6 other bloggers.

I really hate it when so many have to be chosen. It means that whatever blog you turn to will be repeating the same meme so I will tag only two: Marianne and Justme

Thursday, 19 June 2008

HNT - Cake Moons

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

This is the picture when I finally understood and fell in love with my own behind.

It was the first pair of pants I ever bought that actually exposed it.

A thong... but not of the cheesewire variety. Lots of lace to frame the exposed flesh without making me feel like a hooker.

I took the photograph on my phonecam in my kitchen quite late at night. I think I had just returned home from a party and was a little the worse for drink. But I can remember being quite stunned at how pretty it looked. Not the rather large posterior of my own perception but these two little white moons.

When Ruf and I first started to become involved, I can remember him texting that he would love to hold my bottom and, on the spur of the moment, I sent him this picture with the caption:

'What, this arse?'

I believe it may have encouraged him.


Sugasm #136

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 #137? 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

69 “Frozen, I wait for your next move.”

Balanced on the tip of my tongue “Pushing her into the bedroom, I stripped her bare swiftly, laid her out on the bed.”

Impertinent Question: Do You Enjoy Spanking? “That’s what we call Wednesday night!”

Mr. Sugasm Himself Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice The Source of All Waters

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

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

Tuesday, 17 June 2008

To be a woman

"I don't want to be consumed and invaded and spat out so that some fucking man can evolve..."

"What I want is for you to write 'fuck me' on your chest and walk naked down the street and accept every positive glance and anybody that wants to fuck you, you should say 'sure, sure, no problem' and when they do, you have to say 'thank you very, very much' and make sure you have a smile on your face. That's what it feels like to be a woman."

Jenny 'The L Word'

So many faces looking down at me from above. Even after all these years I can still feel the pressure of their bodies as they sought to possess me, fought to penetrate me. Pounding against the tightest of entrances. The muscles of my cunt remaining resolutely closed to them. For there was no love here, no matter what I hoped to achieve. That, by allowing this, they would come to care for me.

Such trusting innocence, such naivete, such total folly!

They were mere boys. At the mercy of their own pubertal hormones. Led by their dicks to find anyone who would give them a hole into which to thrust it. Their searching fingers revolted me and yet still I permitted them. Did I believe that one of them would eventually have the skill to take me to the place the books wrote about? The glorious all-encompassing, shivering release they promised from a man's attentions. That somehow these callow youths could help me find an exit from this dark pit of self-loathing?

I see them now. The half-remembered profile of a neighbouring child in a derelict caravan. Wrecked fittings toppled everywhere and our congress upon an abandoned mattress. A patchy leering face against a darkened sky, the hard earth beneath my back and the prickle of the scrub under my half-exposed butt. A shadowy visage in a darkened room, the smell of beer and a soft couch to lie upon. The weight of a body in the stark sterility of a strange bathroom, stone cold sober, knowing I was wearing a tampon and too embarrassed to say.

They said they desired me. Their mouths, their bodies, their flaccid chipolata cocks growing to some semblance of erection as they tried to take me. I did not want them. It was love and acceptance and the protective shelter of a man's embrace that I craved. My body knew this and repelled all borders.

Around me, other teenage girls seemed to satisfy their needs via this well-trodden route.

I thought, by submitting, I could obtain nirvana.

I was so wrong.

All I found was emptiness and disgust.

Monday, 16 June 2008

Sunday, 15 June 2008


These guys really remind me of Ruf. At first I thought it must be the very short dark hair and stubble factor but then I realised there was more to it.

It's all about the quality of their smile. The way the tough guy image suddenly melts as the joy softens their features and makes their eyes sparkle.

I have searched the length and breadth of the internet to try to find a picture of Russell Crowe looking happy in his Gladiator outfit - without success. I'm sure he did smile at least once in the film and if anyone does know of such a picture and can send me a link, I would be very grateful.

I know there were a couple of moments in the film where he did look happy but they do not seem to have merited any attention. And, indeed, a picture of Russell with a natural smile was pretty hard to come by full stop. The majority of posed publicity shots at awards ceremonies just don't seem to light up his face in the way this shot does. It's not that he is a miserable git because I've seen him in interviews and really liked him, although he has a history which means that there is always that underlying uncertainty bubbling under the surface. The person asking the questions cannot always be quite sure which way he is going to go. I suspect that, in recent times, his natural animosity towards the media and paparazzi generally shows itself in his eyes. Hence the dearth of really natural pictures.

George, on the other hand, does a lot of smiling and is a delightful interviewee. Smart, funny, flirtatious and with a genuine interest in enjoying the experience and pleasing the crowd. But, again, the photographs just don't seem to do him justice.

However, this black and white shot really caught my attention, probably because I have a similar shot of Ruf. Its something about the way the eyes crinkle and the whiteness of the teeth against the darkness of the stubble.

For those of you who don't know, this is John Stamos who plays Dr Tony Gates in ER. He's a bit of a jack-the-lad, maverick, ladies' man who comes good when it matters. He's gorgeous to look at in full, intense mode but it's when he smiles that he has the greatest effect on this particular lady viewer.

I have several pictures of Ruf smiling but it is so difficult to capture without showing you his whole face. The disembodied mouth surrounded by stubble and completed by his dimpled chin definitely makes one think more of Fred Flintstone than a sexy tough guy. The bottom half of his face alone is just not enough to encapsulate the effect. You would have to see his eyes as well. The only clue I will give you is that they're neither blue nor brown but when he's happy, they are quite beautiful.

And when the whole kaboodle is being aimed in my direction, I become like putty in his hands.

As I was formulating this post in my head, Chris Moyles played the following tune on the radio and I have been humming it ever since.

Friday, 13 June 2008

UnderRated: The Penis

The L Word has been a most educational experience in so many different ways. It has helped me get to grips with various aspects of my sexuality and introduced me to concepts that I had never even heard of, let alone considered. But, apart from that, it has been instrumental in making me appreciate things that I had quite taken for granted.

Take the penis, for example. They come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes completed by a foreskin, often without. Pierced or just in their natural glory. And attached to scrotums of equal variety. I have to admit that, although I find them fascinating, they are not particularly attractive objects per se - which is probably why I don't get turned on by disembodied cock shots. But a picture of a naked torso with an erection that has been created for me... now that's a totally different story. It can be the most arousing of sights.

Alice has become one of my favourite characters because of her diversification into all aspects of sex. She makes love to both men and women with equal enthusiasm and aplomb so I guess that makes her a bi-sexual and, in one episode, she is involved with Lisa - a man who claims to be 'a lesbian' as in he only fucks women with a dildo. It is not long before she manages to persuade him to use his cock for its natural purpose.

The thing that has become apparent about Alice is that she loves penetration but not just from using dildos and vibrators (although the scenes when she and the love of her life, Dana, are in the sex shop are hilarious). She likes to be fucked 'conventionally'.

So Alice persuaded Dana to use a strap-on and make love to her using the positions in which a man would fuck a woman. Following that adventure, Dana took a lot of roles traditionally played by the male in a heterosexual partnership - Country Gentleman to Alice's French Maid. That sort of thing. Which started me thinking about how strange it was. That she should want a lesbian relationship but make love with such intrinsically gender-specific stereotypes.

Unlike Alice, who seems to enjoy the whole spectrum of different types of sex, I don't think I could ever imagine a scenario where I would not want a naked penis inside me at the culmination. For me, it is just such a fundamental part of the deal.

I'm not denying that I'm curious about what it would feel like to have a woman rub her clit against mine until we both climaxed but I cannot believe that I would prefer it to the completion I feel with a man and his penis.

That sensation of the quivering tip of his cock at the entrance to my pussy and my gasp of pleasure as the hard flesh penetrates the tight muscles and invades me. The glorious thrust of his passage deep within me, triggering all those explosions in my head.

And don't say that a dildo or vibrator can produce the same effect because, personally, I don't think it ever could. When he's refracting, Ruf often pleasures me with one and, yes, huge amounts of physical pleasure and massive orgasms. But nothing can compare to that sensation of joining with that other person. Feeling his need communicate itself through that piece of erect flesh as it bridges the gap between our two bodies and unites us...

It doesn't matter how much I find the idea of Shane attractive. She is missing a vital component...

And I guess that just confirms that I am not a lesbian.