Monday, 30 November 2009

Mute Monday: Travellers


Sunday, 29 November 2009


It was a wet and windy Saturday here and I was waiting for a friend to come over.

I had cleaned the flat and checked my emails so I was at a loose end and switched on the tv. With nothing more productive to do, I found myself flicking through the channels on Freeview.

And that's how I came upon Spartacus. The uncut and digitally restored version.

It was made by Stanley Kubrik in 1960, the year before I was born and so, along with Ben Hur and Cleopatra became a staple of my childhood blockbuster film watching. My whole vision of the Roman Empire was based squarely upon the faultlessly photogenic snapshots presented by the Hollywood elite in that golden period of film-making over the late 1950s and early 1960s. Brave, handsome men and feisty beautiful women sold into a life of crushing slavery through no fault of their own only to rise, triumphant, to the top of the pile through their courage but this was always reinforced by a love story that left them dependent upont the whims of good and bad men.

I had forgotten just how beautiful Kirk Douglas was, with his burning eyes and that fabulous cleft chin. Jean Simmonds was totally breath-taking as his wife, Varinia, the woman who was also desired by the Roman leader, Crassus, played by another gorgeous man, Laurence Olivier.

This triangle of lust, supported by Charles Laughton and Peter Ustinov, played out over a gladiatorial contest and several amazing battles to the moment that everyone remembers where an entire army claims 'I am Spartacus' in an attempt to save their beloved leader from harm.

In 1994, they re-made Spartacus as a mini-series with the lovely Goran Visnij from ER in the title role. He's a lovely guy, but he doesn't have the screen presence of Kirk Douglas.

I haven't seen the film but, apparently, the ending is different and more in line with the original book by Howard Fast.

It has a good support cast with Sir Alan Bates, Rhona Mitra and Angus McFadyen so perhaps I shall give that a go as a rental from in the New Year.

Friday, 27 November 2009

UnderRated: Tradition

Watching the Remembrance Sunday ceremony at the Cenotaph in Whitehall a few weeks ago, I was reminded of the importance of tradition.

This service has been taking place for decades and has been televised for as long as I can remember. It is something which I endeavour to watch every year, particularly since the advent of my children.

There is something about the ceremony itself which sums up everything that is important about tradition.

The presence of the Queen and the Royal Family, all bowing and honouring a stone monument to the memory of those who died to preserve our future. Our democratically elected officials representing us and laying wreaths on our behalf, whilst the clergy of the Church of England and many other denominations administer to the spiritual side of the event. The bugles sounding The Last Post and the brass bands playing favourite hymns and relevant tunes from the War years. The stentorian tones of the Sergeant Major commanding all to stand to attention or make easy. The huge variety of uniforms, the poppy encrusted wreaths and participants.

Traditions which go back for centuries are the backbone of our Nation and what make us so unique.

We lose any of them at our peril.


Thursday, 26 November 2009

HNT: Blue

It's unusual to get a basque that isn't black, white or red.

So, I was thrilled when the lovely Chris at Bondara sent me this fabulous blue and silver brocade corset.

It is a little more expensive than others that I have worn but, compared to some of its cheaper competitors, the fabric is beautifully soft and it's really well made. Like the bodices of olden times, it has diagonal lacings criss-crossing the back which you tighten to fit once you have secured the metal clips at the front. The black laces match the edging of the basque and contrast really well with the soft peacock blue of the fabric. Just as in days of old, the basque pushes your boobs up and out over the top, whilst nipping in the waist and keeping your abdomen totally flat. The metal clips are a sort of ball and slot affair that are a little fiddly first but, once you get the hang of it, are easily released if you can see what you are doing.

My only beef is that, when I wore it out for dinner, I realised just how hard it was for those poor ladies in the 18th century to eat a proper meal and my attempts to release the lower part of my abdomen by undoing one of the front clips surreptitiously under the table only resulted in me trapping part of my extending belly skin in one of the metal fastenings. I would never have believed such a small injury could cause so much pain!

Ruf has been staying with me for a few days in my flat and we actually went out for dinner in my home town for the first time. Sort of a date.

It was a most peculiar experience because, although my marriage is at the 'separated' stage and the neighbours are all aware of this, it is not something that is really universally known around the town because neither my ex nor I want to give the gossips something juicy to cackle over. As a result, I was rather concerned that we might meet someone I knew and have to face some awkward questions.

In the end, things went off uneventfully and we had a lovely time so, the problem of not being able to stuff my face aside, it's a beautiful basque and Ruf certainly enjoyed taking photographs of me wearing it before we went out and then releasing me from its confines upon our return.

For non-mousers, click here


Tuesday, 24 November 2009

Wonderland: The British in Bed

Chris and Jessica, married for 27 years... In a tiny pine bed overloaded with dogs, cats and old resentments, Chris lamented how his wife goes up to the loft every night with a bag of glass beads to make jewellery.

After a logjam of heated accusations, Chris finally asked her why she couldn't sit next to him and do it 'on a tray'.

'I miss you,' he said, simply.

'Why didn't you tell me?' she asked, looking amazed.

'I thought you knew.'

'Oh,' she said, collapsing onto her pillow as if she'd been falling out of an exploding plane for a long time, and finally landed.

Caitlin Moran on TV, The Times, Saturday 17 October 2009 reviewing 'Wonderland: The British in Bed'

I watched this episode of the Wonderland strand on BBC IPlayer after reading this review.

It was quite fascinating. Three or four couples of varying ages and stages in their relationship. Couples who had been together for many years and some who were quite new to the relationship. And there were just so many variants in the ways that it is possible to love a spouse.

But it was Chris and Jessica who stood out. She had put on weight after problems in childbirth. She felt old and fat and needed to have his love physically demonstrated but when he didn't, she replaced it with external activities. The sudden discovery that he loved her desperately but just didn't know how or was unable to show/tell her was quite shocking. Not just to her but to this viewer as well.

I can remember that my Husband and I used to watch television together until he discovered the joys of a musical instrument. He went through an extremely irritating phase of strumming a guitar whilst I was trying to concentrate on a programme. Being me, I never expressed that but I guess my face must have shown it because he eventually got the hint and retired to another room to practise.

When I began to feel more and more isolated from him, I focussed more and more on my hobby and then I discovered the internet. It wasn't long before I had replaced his lack of attention with the conversation of strangers on sites where my hobby was being discussed.

Looking back, I think he was probably a Chris. Unable to share his feelings for me, he wanted to be in the same room but he also wanted to indulge his own hobby at the same time, which meant that it was just impossible for us both to enjoy what we were doing.

Once the crack began to show, his behaviour over the children just drove a wedge between us until the chasm was unbridgeable.

Let's hope the programme has been a wake-up call for Chris and Jessica and they can move forward together from here.

Monday, 23 November 2009

Sunday, 22 November 2009


I found this recently and was reminded.

I'm still not sure who I am more angry with.

My then husband for not making the effort to help find a babysitter so that I could also go to Wembley or Michael Hutchence for making it impossible for that decision ever to be rectified.

On the twelfth anniversary of his death, RIP Michael.

Pleasurists #54

Pleasurists is a round-up of the adult product and sex toy reviews that came out in the last seven days.

Did you miss Pleasurists #53? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists #55? Submit it here before Sunday November 22nd at 11:59pm PST. 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.


Scarlet Lotus St. Syr

Editor’s Pick

  • LELO Ella by Victoria

  • People may have no idea just how much pleasure and perfect g-spot stimulation that unassuming hunk of silicone provides. (Those fools!)

    Also, you may want to use Ella as a pretend phone, or let your other toys argue with your cats about it. Just a little suggestion of my own.

    Note: While there were many wonderful reviews this week and the EP was a difficult choice I was won over by the wonderfully amusing and fantastic pictures that accompany this review. Talk bubbles, kitties, and attempts to use a sex toy as a phone (among other amusing antics) set the review apart while the text gives you more of the usual toy information. I love it.

On to the reviews…



Anal Toys

Toys for Cocks

Lube, Massage Oil, Bath Stuff, & etc.


Adult Books/Games

Adult Movies/Porn




Pleasurists adult product review round-up banner

Saturday, 21 November 2009


In my search for a replacement for the glass dildo that broke into two pieces when I dropped it in the sink, I was sent the Zodiac by the lovely Chris at Bondara.

It's a glass dildo that doubles as a vibrator because it has a vibrating bullet that you insert into a small socket at the base. This means that you can use it with or without vibration.

As I knelt on the bed, my torso supported by lots of pillows, Ruf tied my hands and secured them to the top of the bed above my head. It became clear that he wanted to be in charge of the experiment.

So he placed the Zodiac, complete with its vibrating bullet insert, into my pussy. It's a bit too slender to really fill a girl, but the vibrations were very pleasant. Add that to the ridges along its length and the hooked end which really hits the spot and you have something rather different to the norm but very interesting nonetheless.

Pressing the Lelo Gigi to my clit to add to the vibrations, because he knows that I prefer dual stimulation, he settled down to enjoy the squeals. However, before long, he wanted to get in on the action and proceeded to plug the final orifice with his own erection until he got the crescendo that he sought.

Some time later, with my released, but still taped, hands holding convulsively to the Gigi, Ruf removed the vibrating bullet from its little slot at the end and proceeded to fuck my arse vigorously with the glass shaft of the Zodiac. The curved end has the most amazing effect, pushing through the intervening fleshy walls towards my gspot as the Gigi gave reciprocal pressure from the other side. I was desperate to squirt. All the signs were there, the desire to press down and wee but I just couldn't quite make it happen.

All in all, even though it is not as 'filling' as the one I broke, the hook at the end and the vibrating aspect means that this multi-tasker has the makings of a winner. It has certainly become a staple of our toybox.

And, best of all, it's currently on special offer at more than 50% off!

Friday, 20 November 2009

e[lust] #1

Welcome to the first edition of e[lust]! Below is your source for inspirations of lust and sexual intelligence from a wide range of sex bloggers. Want to be included in the next edition? Submission period opens for e[lust] # 2 on November 20th – subscribe to the RSS feed and Twitter for all updates! Check out the submission guidelines and rules of general conduct here.

This week’s top three picks as chosen by fellow e[lust] participants:

At Your Service - His hand pushes on my thigh and I turn away from him, allowing him to inspect my ass. His hands spread my ass cheeks and again I flood with wetness.

Cinderella – “‘I want to fuck you…’ he growled, nipping at her neck and kissing down over her breasts, biting at her nipples through the fabric, making her cry out.

Anal Sex Pt 2: The Ins and Outs of Butt Sex - Butt sex is what you make of it. Enjoy yourselves, be careful, and try everything that looks interesting.

Editor’s Pick:

The Slut Chronicles #5 – The Flight Delay – “When her eye caught his blatantly checking her out, he only grinned wider, with no remorse at all and it was she who blushed furiously.”

A note from the editor: And so it begins…

See also: Pleasurist’s #54 for your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Writing

Just A Little Taste
Older and Better Than Ever
Good Morning
Your Eyes
MFM: The Student. The Teacher.
Get Me Off
The Club & Introductory Note
Don’t Come
The City
Howl at the Moon
The Devil Inside
One of the Greats
Room Service

Kink & Fetish

A Busy Night
Bad Taste?
The Illusion of Beginning: Pt 1
“You hit me…”
Too Many Buttons
Nadia’s Wishing Box
The Mason Jar
So Sexy Boots

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Swing Shift Vol. 18 – Safe Sex and Getting Tested
Libido Resurrection Programme™
Check Up
Oh, Baby, Baby
UnderRated: Fucking the Mind

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Vixen Invites
I’m Quoted in Time Out NY!
Top Five Tuesday – Euro Studs
She Makes Me Feel Like a Whore

Thursday, 19 November 2009

HNT: Relax

After a hard work-out, there is nothing more rewarding than a proper relaxation period.

Allowing yourself time to just lie flat and empty your mind. To enjoy the effects of your labours as you focus on your breathing and say 'Not Now, I Deserve This' to any thoughts that try to interrupt your concentration.

And so much better knowing that, on the other side of the wall and very much squashed into your bathtub, there is someone else relaxing as he prepares to show you how much you deserve him.

Ah, the strategically placed bubbles...


Tuesday, 17 November 2009


I lay there, trapped.

Naked underneath you in the scrambled bed.

Only moments before, there had been mutual passion.

Now, there was only fear and pain.

The leglock would dislocate my hip if I tried to move it and had already tweaked something badly enough to continue to hurt.

I'd asked you to stop but you just kept going.

Trapping my head and my arm within the ring of one of your arms and pressing your head against them so I was immobilised if I didn't want to put my shoulder out.

Each time I asked you to stop but you just kept going, choking me with my own arm.

Tap, tap. The traditional code words for submission in all forms of life seemed not to penetrate.

Until I screamed as best I could.

And then you released slightly but it was all too late.

I could feel the tears of frustrated fear start to flow.

To have spent so many years just letting things happen, not physical abuse but mental torment, the new me says when she doesn't like something.

Won't put up and shut up.

But to be ignored and have it happen anyway.

It just makes me feel so powerless.

As if nothing has really changed.

Except that this time it is you.

And I wont repeat the same pattern over again.

So I knew that I had to tell you.

Not straightaway, although as soon as you let me go, I pushed you away and shouted at you.

But later, I tried to explain and you went all quiet so I hope you understand now. I know it was never malicious but it was over-enthusiastic... and you needed to know that.

Things have changed.

But it's more than that.

I have.

Monday, 16 November 2009

Mute Monday: The Favourite

Star Trek: VOY episode
"Favorite Son"


Sunday, 15 November 2009

Ultimate Decadence

The nice people at Xcite Books sent me a copy of this great new tome of short stories edited by Emily Dubberley. The writers donated their stories for free and a percentage of the cover price is being passed on to MacMillan Cancer Care.

Ultimate Decadence is an anthology of 30 erotic stories on the theme of decadence from best-selling authors including Karen Krizanovich, Suzanne Portnoy, Maxim Jakubowski and Elizabeth Coldwell. Every aspect of decadent sexual excess is explored, from Bloomsbury-set inspired debauched romps to romantically naughty tales full of roses and champagne, diamonds and Venetian masks.

As usual with these short story selections, it's not something you can sit down and read all in one sitting. Well not for me anyway. I find if I read more than three or four in a row, I start to lose the impetus for my excitement because I begin to expect the unexpected and become inured to the element of surprise.

What I enjoyed most about this book, apart from the outstanding quality of the writing, was that the interpretations of the term 'ultimate decadence' were so varied. That umbrella title really did take you into so many different scenes, settings and scenarios at the behest of the author's take on the subject matter.

Quite revelatory and very arousing.

Friday, 13 November 2009

OverRated: Brokeback Mountain Syndrome

'...I understand that a lot of people find the sight of two grown men kissing in public really creepy...'

Nick Griffin, BNP, on Question Time, October 2009

In our politically correct society, it is not something that people necessarily admit to, even though that might be how many of them feel.

Teenagers today are far more accepting of differing sexual preferences and orientations. In their computer-led search for knowledge about their bodies and desires, their exposure to many more variations has meant that they don't see things as unusual in the same way that our more rigid upbringing makes us.

However, a straw poll of males of my acquaintance seems to suggest that none of them feel comfortable watching adult males kissing, whether it be in a film or on the street. Look at the furore over 'Brokeback Mountain'. There are some men I know who actively refuse to watch it because of the subject matter.

I was born at the tale end of a generation of stiff-upper-lipped Brits who really do feel that open homosexuality is something very embarrassing and rather dirty. These men were conditioned never to show emotion and, through the strict regimes of their public schools, many refused to speak of some of the more salacious acts that seem to have been part and parcel of life within a single sex boarding school. One cannot help wondering if this type of exposure is part of the reason for their determination not to accept same-sex relationships as being anything other than wrong.

If you think back to the days of the Greeks and the Romans and through to the romantic poets, bi-sexuality seems to have been quite common.

So when did intimate relationships between people of the same gender become something sinister, that Society deemed had to be hidden away? Was it like sex generally within the Victorian age? Something that only took place behind closed doors? Did sex between consenting same-sex couples become reviled because it was something that happened within the confines of male-only bastions of society - boarding school? Or the army? Or was it what happened in prisons that caused the problem? Where it was forced upon the unconsenting?

And yet, judging by the number of men I know who refuse to even hold hands with their girlfriend in the street, perhaps it is more to do with perception. With a moral code that makes public displays of affection unwelcome, including those between opposite genders. Or, maybe, with their own inability to express themselves emotionally? Their inner refusal to connect in private or in front of other people because they see it as somehow weak.

Sure, I can understand that not everyone wants to share their romantic passionate snog with the outside world - and that a lot of passersby would probably feel similarly about viewing it - but holding hands? There's nothing remotely offensive about that... by anyone... whatever the gender of the participants.

Ruf lives in a big city and his circle of friends is far more liberal than in my own small, sleepy suburb. I have to say that I don't know of any gay or lesbian partnerships within my own local web of acquaintances. This is unlikely to be because they aren't any, rather that it is just not something that people seem to admit to openly in this small town.

This means that, if a same-sex couple - male or female - were to walk down the street holding hands, let alone kissing, it would be noticed. Not necessarily frowned upon, but noticed because it was unusual.

When I talked to Ruf about it, I wondered if more exposure to hand holding would make it seem more acceptable or was it that people didn't want to offend or be noticed and so they didn't do it openly in our town? Ruf said that his friends would do it deliberately to be noticed and cause comment or offence to any stuffed shirt. Through him, I have become friendly with several same-sex partnerships, who are quite open about their domestic arrangements and their public affection for each other but I still find myself covertly watching them with fascination.

However, what I have come to understand is that it is actually my problem, not theirs. Everyone has the right to give and receive affection in public and no one should think they have the right to judge them for it.

Television seems to deal with the issue of same-sex partnerships mostly in stereotypes, the butch lesbian and the girly girl or the leather-clad, Village People look-a-like with the effeminate or androgynous boy. Or in The L Word, where they all live some impossibly glamorous lifestyle and snog and fuck whenever and wherever.

This does not help matters, it emphasises the extremes and fuels the feeling that liking someone of the same gender sexually makes a person somehow different to a heterosexual. Not like normal people.

The sooner we can all come to terms with the fact that it is ok to demonstrate affection, no matter what your sexuality, the better we will become as a Society.


Thursday, 12 November 2009

HNT: Night Vision

I have spent the last four years driving up and down Britain's motorways in search of sexual satisfaction.

But the network itself has been around for far longer of course. On 2 November, the M1 celebrated the 50th anniversary of the completion of its first section.

Whilst it was quite illuminating visiting Britain's first service station and the source of the proverbial North/South divide at Watford Gap for the first time, I now try to avoid using that particular motorway whenever possible. From my first ever journey to visit Ruf, they were digging it up and the signs announced that the cones and average speed limits would be in situ for the next 2.5 years. When they completed that bit, they moved along to the next for another year. Driving back before dawn on a Monday morning, I would pray that I was going to miss the jams around Luton but to no avail and so I changed my allegiance to the elegance of the M40.

Only this year, they started digging up the M25 in two places on my journey from east to west and I had to accept defeat and curtail my weekends by returning on Sunday night.

During the day, these vast stretches of tarmac are worrying enough with the traffic hurtling along at speeds far in excess of the national limit but, at night, they become quite terrifying.

I often wish that I had better night vision because it is severely constrained by the brightness of the headlights of the congested traffic interspersed with the blue flashing lights of the emergency services.

For non-mousers click here