Sunday, 31 May 2009

The Apprentice

I've watched the various series of The Apprentice with a growing horror as a parade of vile characters shouted, cursed and tore strips off each other in their attempts to get their hands on the prize.

It was a blessed relief a few weeks ago when Sir Alan Sugar finally took matters into his own hands and vehemently rebuked a candidate who thought she had the right to speak rudely to his own assistant, Nick Hewer. That particular young woman, Debra Barr, seems to be one of the most unpleasant females ever to hale from Essex and does nothing to dispel the popular perception that women from our county are brash, brazen and gobby without a care for the thoughts or feelings of anyone else who comes between them and their goal.

However, in her defence, I suspect she was chosen exactly for that character flaw and follows a welltrodden path of previous exponents. Katie Hopkins springs readily to the forefront of my mind when reminded of some of those nasty individuals, who seem to think that to be successful in business, you have to be totally unscrupulous. And it seems so much more obviously vile when this character trait is exhibited by a woman.

I was devastated this week when one of my two favourite contestants came a cropper. Howard Ebison has consistently behaved like a courteous gentleman in the face of some extraordinarily bad behaviour.

In an arena where people think that the best form of defence is a shrill and vociferous attack, he has remained calm and controlled, lowering his voice and speaking carefully in direct contradiction to the hysterical outpourings of his colleagues. I don't think I ever heard him directly badmouth another contender, preferring to deal with situations rather than personalities and it was a travesty that his gentlemanly treatment of Lorraine in choosing to be her partner, rather than let her commit televisual suicide by presenting solo in the television shopping channel presentation, led to his own demise.

I'm now hoping that clown prince James McQuillan can survive the testing atmosphere of next week's personal interviews and become victorious. It would be so very wrong for any of the remaining four women to come out on top since three of them would be a nightmare to work with and the fourth relies on her looks far too often but, whilst she seems able to manage other people's egos well, is not such a good saleswoman.

Pictures, courtesy of,, and

Saturday, 30 May 2009

Pleasurist #30


Found via The Alexa Collection photographer unknown.

Pleasurists is your round-up of the adult product reviews that came out in the last seven days from bloggers all around the sex blogosphere. Did you miss Pleasurists #28? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists #30? Submit it here before Sunday May 25th at 11:59pm PDT. Please re-post this list on your own blog if listed.

Want to win some free swag? All you’ve got to do is enter.

Madame Editrix

Scarlet Lotus St.Syr

On to the reviews…

Editor’s Pick

  • Comparing Pelvic Exercise Balls by Sexorcism

  • I’ve reviewed four sets of pelvic exercise balls: Fun Factory Teneo Uno, LELO Luna Beads, Fun Factory SmartBalls, and Fun Factory Teneo Duo. Here is a comparison of four sets by their size, materials, stimulation level, ease of insertion and features.

    Note: This is a wonderful comparison of the four major pelvic exercise balls out there. It’s very basic in many ways but covers the topic well and gives a lot of wonderful details.



Anal Toys

Toys for Cocks

Lube, Bath Stuff, & etc.


Adult Books

Adult Movies/Porn



Pleasurists adult product review round-up banner

Friday, 29 May 2009

OverRated: Mamma Mia!

"I wasn't disappointed because I was expecting nothing. But I was wrong. I got less than nothing"

Everyone had raved about it. The best selling musical dvd of all-time and that sort of stuff. The theatre show had been a sell-out on both Broadway and in London's West End for months.

Eventually I got around to buying the dvd and took it with me to Ruf's to pass the time in between doing what we do best. Not being a particularly RomCom kinda guy, Ruf was very unwilling to even give it the time of day but I persuaded him to view for ten minutes. His face at the end of that timeframe was a picture. Disgruntled disapproval registering itself as a scowl that obliterated his dimple. His down-turned mouth imbuing him with a look that was almost Sesame Street Beaker-like.

"Contrived," was his verdict.

And he was not wrong.

I have heard this word used before in conjunction with such 'tribute' musicals. The first such entry into the genre was 'We Will Rock You', Ben Elton's reworking of the Queen back catalogue which received huge praise and publicity, thus setting off a domino effect of similar efforts. Never having seen it, I cannot pass comment but I have heard it widely revered by reliable sources.

However, I recall a friend who went to see 'Tonight's the Night', featuring the fabulous songs of Rod Stewart within a pitiful framework of a story, being desperately disappointed at the way the script had been manipulated to fit in the songs and then embarrassed at the cast's inability to produce anyone who actually had hot legs to dance to the tune of that title.

I think the problem is that those of us who remember the originals, feel short-changed hearing the songs performed by amateurs, whereas those hearing the tunes for the first time are delighted in exactly the way that we were originally and sing along quite happily.

Always having loved Abba, since they burst onto the music scene by sweeping away the competition in the Eurovision Song Contest in 1974, I watched 'Mamma Mia!' with an appreciation of the calibre of the songs themselves and an increasingly open-mouthed amazement at the way the story deliberately threw in twists and turns to accommodate the next famous hit with a transparency that was breathtakingly cheeky. However, they just kept playing that same card until it became a case of guessing when x story line will precipitate y chart topper. It was all just too obvious.

The efforts of the stars themselves to sing melodies that are incredibly hard to reproduce were laudable - Meryl Streep did particuarly well in 'Winner takes it all', but poor Pierce Brosnan was almost laughable.

If you must watch it, unless you're a fan of High School Musical and the like, I'd suggest you save your money and rent it.

Of course, if you really want to watch Mamma Mia!, you have to see the version that French & Saunders did for Comic Relief.


Sugasm #166

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 #167? 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

Bare-Assed Cheek (2): Punishment and Reward “His finger glides up the inner side of my left thigh.”

Lilly’s Turn - Part 1: Wherein a Power Play is Made “I asked her, outright, if she considered herself submissive.”

…please… “Exquisite pain heralding exquisite surrender.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself Is Sasha Grey going mainstream?

Sugasm Editor A Difficult Scenario

Editor’s Choice Just Looking

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

Thursday, 28 May 2009

HNT : Anorexia

Funny really.

You probably look at this picture and see the slender thighs, the rounded hip.

Me, all I focus on are the scraggy neck and the fat stomach.

I know, I know but to me it's a fat stomach. Rather than my core muscles contracting to hold my knees at that angle, prior to bringing them back to rest securely on the bed.

See, the psychological effects of this illness?

But, I'm getting there. Slowly, and with the tiniest of forward steps, but it is still progress in terms of body awareness.

I just wish I'd learned to do it sooner so that I could enjoy my body when it was at its peak, rather than during the gentle decline into middle age where the Menopausal mayhem causes my hormones to relax important contracting muscles and generally interfere with my skin's elasticity.

Perhaps, in some ways, that's better psychologically to deal with. I have no control over this. It doesn't matter how little I eat or how much exercise I do, my body's deterioration into old age will continue inexorably... and there's not a damn thing that I can do about it.

It's time I settled down and just began to enjoy the journey.

My counselling starts tomorrow.


Tuesday, 26 May 2009


"You and me.

"I mean. There are people all over the world whose interactions are simple and clean and generally lead to good things happening, right?

"I said you have choices, but just maybe we don't really.

"I just mean that maybe it's just chemistry.

"You want what you want and you can't stop wanting.

"Maybe it's that simple."

Nick George, Dirty Sexy Money

Sometimes it just is.

Sometimes you walk into a room and you know someone is looking at you.

Wherever you walk, whatever you do.

You can feel the intensity of that person's gaze upon you just as surely as yours is upon them.

It makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise and warms you until you must glow like the Ready Brek kid.

You move around each other strategically, occasionally meeting up and spending a moment.

Never touching.

Fingers so close together, millimetres apart and yet never actually putting skin against skin.

And yet the connection is there with the solidity of concrete.

For as long as it takes.

Perhaps forever.

Monday, 25 May 2009

Mute Monday: Trip

Courtesy of

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Courtesy of

Courtesy of

Courtesy of

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Sunday, 24 May 2009

Star Trek

What can I say?

Apart from absolutely brilliant!

It will have been obvious from my Mute Mondays that I am a committed Trekkie, particularly when it comes to the original series since I grew up with those characters and I was a little trepidatious at the prospect of anyone attempting to recreate those characters.

I deliberately didn't look at the trailers or reviews and managed to avoid any spoilers, so I won't put anything of that nature here to afford you the same blank canvas with which to watch.

All I can say is that it was written and directed by people who clearly cared deeply about the legacy of Gene Roddenberry's original premise, cast and plotlines, as well as those of the various spin-offs and films so that there were many in the audience nodding their heads and smiling as the new actors playing favourite characters appeared and different references were made.

Just fabulous!

Friday, 22 May 2009


I had been wanking under the covers for the best part of ten minutes, watching Ruf flit in and out of the bedroom, before he finally realised.

And that was only when he got into bed and wondered at my stillness. Raising the covers and taking in the scene, he laughed.

Being used to the rather more noisy models I had been wont to use previously, it was so quiet that he never even noticed.

Me, I just lay there on my back, enjoying the relaxation as the motor gently buzzed away inside me. Iris is such a good shape that she slid in really easily and meaty enough to fill me properly without that gap at the end where other toys just didn't quite seem long enough. Gradually pushing the control up through the five different programmes, fiddling with the power control to increase the speed and working out which pulser or shaker speed I preferred best... at that particular moment.

For me, a vibrator has never been a substitute for a man. It never could be, for how can it put its arms around me and nuzzle my neck, pressing itself hard against my flesh and demonstrating that it wanted me back.

But Iris certainly ticked a whole lot of boxes that put it well on the way to being my favourite toy. Nowhere near as loud as the Hitachi and without the encumbering cable, combined with a power that is more controllable. Quieter again than any of the tulip gspot/clit stimulators and far more satisfying when used internally. More importantly, it seemed more powerful than her sister, Gigi, my previous weapon of choice. So when I selected the highest, fastest setting and placed it on my clit, it knocked all previous contenders into a cocked hat.

This is what I look for in a plastic playmate! A device that allows me to achieve a fabulous clitoral orgasm whilst my lover ploughs into the hole of his choosing from behind and sets off a tandem gspot climax. Man and machine working together to bring about my release.

Other pretenders had had the power but their volume had rattled the rafters and woken the neighbours before I'd even got started. Still more had purported to do the job but failed miserably and left me frustrated at their lack of oomph, especially when the batteries were on the way out, or with a stiff arm due to having to reach to hold the device in position.

So, powerful, quiet, ergonomically shaped for comfort internally and externally, rechargeable and easy to clean because it's made of silicon so a quick wash with antibacterial soap or sextoy cleaner (carefully avoiding the recharging socket) and dried on a lint-free towel, remembering to avoid silicon-based lubes when you play.

Faced with a choice between the Elise and the Iris, I selected the latter because of its raised textured curves rather than the cold Scandinavian lines of Elise.

I love my Iris.

With many thanks to Rick at Vibrator-Toys.

Thursday, 21 May 2009

HNT: Kiss My Cheek

I love hitting bags.

Ruf's bag is in a corner of his bedroom and is a particularly heavy one so I normally need to wear gloves if I don't want to damage my knuckles, but the satisfaction of really laying into it can be very therapeutic at trying times.

He calls this type of lingerie my 'big pants'. But, in reality, they're just boy shorts rather than my normal skimpy thongs. They make training a little more secure if your trousers happen to get dislodged.

Of course, I wasn't wearing any trousers or, indeed, training really. Just enjoying hitting and kicking the bag to get rid of some of my irritation and frustration and then grabbing hold of it to still its frantic swaying before starting again.

Which is when he came into the room... and the kissing started.

I couldn't help but compare and wonder at the contradiction that is the two men in my life. The husband who refuses even to kiss the side of my face in greeting and my lover, who cannot resist pressing his lips to any of my cheeks.


Wednesday, 20 May 2009

When was the last time...

"When was the last time that you kissed Dad?"

It wasn't an accusation, just a question. Delivered in front of a couple of his mates in a context that I cannot even remember because I was stunned into confusion as to how to answer.

Fortunately, the conversation moved swiftly on to something else. But I was left with the memory.

The truth is that I can't remember. I would say that I kiss my children every day... whether they want me to or not! :)

But their father...?

I know that the last time we stood close to each other and embraced was around Christmas 2004. That was when, forced to face and respond to my concerns about our marriage, he told me that he wasn't sure he loved me any more either but that we should stay together because of the children. He made the effort to address my grievance when he hugged me then. And the morning after that, I instigated the cuddle as he went off to work. Of course, it all just petered out within two weeks and we were back to square one.

I know that in the beginning we did used to kiss during sex but it disappeared from the act around the time that the children were born and I cannot remember why, other than that, when we had relations in the missionary position, the size differential meant that I tended to end up with my head under his armpit, which is not really conducive to snogging but, mostly, our relationship had deteriorated to the point where he just penetrated me from the rear - whether I was awake or not.

But it was the casual peck of affectionate greeting in the morning or when he came in from work and I was in the kitchen preparing the dinner that I longed for most. To have a man come up behind me and put his arms around my waist as his lips caressed my neck is one of the most intimate of affectionate gestures and it had been absent for decades, unless it was me making the first move.

As is the custom, he kissed the cheeks of our friends and even work colleagues in greeting but never, voluntarily, mine.

I think I really noticed the problem when our children would have to make the move to kiss him if they wanted to express their love. The word 'Aspergers' started to flash in my head but, of course, he would never have admitted that there might be something wrong with him. And yet so many of the distinguishing factors do actually fit.

The confirmation that things were becoming obvious to the children too occurred a couple of years ago when my daughter commented that the reason I wanted to hug with her so often was 'because Dad doesn't hug you and you want someone taller than you to cuddle'.

In the aftermath of my son's question, I was left with a lingering sense of guilt. He hadn't asked when his father had last kissed me, which tends to suggest that he recognises something that is not innately natural for his father to do. I couldn't help but feel that, somehow, my son blamed me for not perpetuating this small intimacy with his father.

And I feared for the future.

Tuesday, 19 May 2009


Last week, I was alerted by Pippirose that someone over on Adult Friend Finder had used two of my pieces on their blog and passed them off as their own.

Not even two of my best as far as I was concerned but, nonetheless, still mine.



The words have been lifted almost exactly from my blog, even down to my trade mark dot dot dot. There might be an attempt here or there to add in a sentence or change a word and put in an opening or closing paragraph, but that almost makes the attempt to pilfer my thoughts seem worse in that they have enclosed mine within their own as if they were one and the same.

I have contacted AFF direct and they have assured me that these two pieces have now been taken down. But I have no way of confirming this or ascertaining whether any more of my work has been purloined since I am not a member. And, even if I was, the blog itself has now gone private so I would be unable to check without being invited. I am told that for 'reasons of privacy' they cannot divulge what other action has been taken against this individual.

I was not the only one involved. This person and the other one mentioned by Pippirose had actually stolen many posts from various other blog sources and taken the credit for themselves.

I had been talking about this only the previous day with the friend of another victim who had wondered if I might also have been involved. I laughed and felt very flattered to be considered in such good company and I recall that I described the possibility as a 'theft of my imagination'.

In the event, I don't feel violated, just very angry and frustrated that someone could do such a thing with impunity. I never mind if people quote my stuff, so long as they give the credit back to me via a link or a mention and I am always very careful to do the same if someone else's words tickle my imagination or emphasise a point that I am trying to make within one of my own posts. Stealing is still stealing, even if it is not of a material asset.

It made me wonder about the self-image of a person who had to plunder someone else's thoughts to achieve their own validation. I couldn't even begin to imagine how they could make that match up to improved self-esteem. The whole idea of 'Having my cake and eating it too' was that I learned about myself, faced up to my own shortcomings and tried to achieve some goals that made me feel good about ME. To access thoughts and emotions that had been suppressed and give them free rein through my writing. The fact that other people seemed to enjoy reading what I had to say and took the time to tell me that I was not the only one was a huge added bonus.

I also find it very strange that these people are allowed to commit these thefts but are neither sanctioned nor ejected from the umbrella websites on which they are posted. Public villification would seem to be the only answer - not only by the writers who have been affected, but also their audience. If you, as a reader, recognise something that you have read before elsewhere, you should investigate via google or one of the other search engines. There is always the chance that a story or scenario will be similar - after all, there are only so many sexual positions/interactions - but if the prose is clearly word for word exact, then there is something amiss and this should be drawn to the attention of both writers.

Hopefully, if enough attention is drawn to this problem, those who run umbrella organisations within which blogs can be set up will accept that it is also incumbent upon them to be more vigilant about what is posted on their sites.

As an aside, this incident also made me think of copyright issues generally and, in particular, my use of pictures to illustrate the Mute Monday series and other posts. I shall attempt to credit the source of any visual images used on this blog from now on.

Monday, 18 May 2009

Sunday, 17 May 2009

Sugasm #165

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 #166? 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

Blame it on the al-al al-al al-al-co-hol “My legs were now spread and he was in between them.”

Dinner and a Show “Before it disappeared completely, I gave it a twist at the base, causing it to vibrate.”

Sugarbutch Star: Matt (part two) - All Five Senses “She takes her lipstick out of her bag and uncaps it, twists it up and paints her mouth subtly, softly.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself Adieu ErosBlog?

Sugasm Editor Sex Work And Honesty: Relationship Status

Editor’s Choice A Long Slow Seduction Continued…

More Sugasm

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Saturday, 16 May 2009

Poker Face

I wont tell you that I love you
Kiss or hug you
Cause I'm bluffin with my muffin
I'm not lying, I'm just stunnin' with my love-glue gunnin'

It was a song that got played a lot on the radio that weekend as we lay in bed and talked it all through.

Could we make it work without the added extra of the secrecy? Could we maintain the fun factor? Continue to feel the same desire? Was it possible for a proper relationship to continue when its protagonists were based in two different cities, separated by several hundred miles? Would our lust be doomed to sputter out and die?

We even mentioned the M word.

Sure, part of me would love to be his wife.

But I've already made a hash of it once so there are a lot of mental and emotional complications to dismantle. I know he worries that if I move to be with him at some point in the future, I will miss my children too much for our relationship to survive.

Yet, despite all these pros and cons, the relentless soul-searching, it is the laughter that I remember. I cannot hear this song without remembering Ruf standing over me stark naked; all hair and dominance, his cock still semi-hard and covered in the spattered shiny globules of my appreciation. And then this song came on and he proceeded to wriggle his hips and dance like some kind of pornstar, gyrating and waggling his giblets as I dissolved into helpless giggles. It seemed so very appropriate since he very much enjoys playing Poker.

It is premature to be talking about a long-term future together but we still have a fabulous past and one hell of a present to enjoy.

Friday, 15 May 2009

UnderRated: The Month of May

"Ne'er cast a clout 'til May is out"

According to the Phrase Finder, the earliest citation of 'N'er cast a clout till May be out' (never discard your warm winter clothing until the end of the month of May) is the version of the rhyme, Gnornologia(1732) from Dr Thomas Fuller: 'Leave not off a clout till May be out'; although it probably existed by word-of-mouth since at least the early 15th century.

It probably referred to the blossom of the Hawthorn tree which was once known simply as 'May' and comes in various stunning shades, rather than the month itself.

Add that to the colourful hues of the many varieties of flowering cherries blooming locally, which range from almost cerise all the way through to the palest of pinks, plus a large number of types of large and small-flowered clematis and you will understand my assertion that May is the best month for being outside, even if you do sometimes need a cardy.

The last few days of beautifully warm sunshine, truncated suddenly by rather more inclement conditions, reminds me of how much I love this time of year. It is so unpredictable, with the possibility of the occasional rogue April shower or a blustery gale, followed the next day by temperatures soaring into the high twenties or, perhaps, the more usual wet, damp drizzle that precedes an English summer of more of the same.

I got married in early May on a very warm day. They say that the sun always shines on the righteous and that this weather predicted a happy future for both of us. *Insert your own suitable expletive here*

Anne Boleyn was both crowned in May and then executed almost exactly three years later. Most films about her life show her stopping to admire a sprig of hawthorne as she walked to both events and whispering: 'The Month is May'.

Perhaps it's not the luckiest of months but it's certainly a beautiful one and no less appreciated, especially when the breeze gets up and you are surrounded by a blizzard of sweet smelling blossoms.

And, over here in the UK, it has the added bonus of containing two bank holidays. What's not to like about two extra days off in the space of one month?


Thursday, 14 May 2009

HNT: Does My Bum Look Big in This?

You guys just dread that question don't you?

Because it's a no win situation.

If it does and you say so, you're screwed.

If you give the negative response, we don't believe you.

But if a woman has a man who continually says 'Just look at that great arse!' in such a tone as to suggest that he is truly enamoured of said body part, she does start to actually value her bottom and even relish his enjoyment of it.

Trust me on this one.