Sunday, 28 February 2010

Head in the clouds sex.

Sometime ago, I had some problem in trying to exist in a world that goes one way whilst I go the other. But to survive one needs to meet half way. I have tried to keep a hold on myself whilst keeping myself. By hold on myself I mean that I'm not an excessively flighty person, I AM a realist but when it comes to somethings, it looks like music, dreams and words have influenced my heart. I was reading about casual sex and about men and women. Whilst this did not come up in the discussion, I come back to men and women being different. You know, I have a problem with that. I suppose it's because it makes me feel alienated. I don't have a problem with not fitting in or feeling isolated ..I think that has made me stronger and made me know what I want which is important, I think it's important to figure yourself out (sure, to some extent).

But the biggest problem is how men approach sex compared to women. And if a man can't love like a woman. "Women are more attracted to the person they love and men fall more in love with the person they are attracted to." Oh, that's cruel. I saw the truth in that. Aren't all men different enough to not fit into one category like that, though? And what about women?

I also would like to think about romance, I'd like to think it goes appreciated just as much by both sexes. And that if a man is in love with a woman, he'd light candles for her in a heartbeat. I've come to realise that actually that more than gesture is quite important. I believe in romance.

I believe in casual sex. I believe in two people just wanting to fuck. Or needing to fuck.

I believe in two people attracted to each other and wanting to sleep with each other.

I believe in two people who want to wait and then have sex with each other. And neither of them cheat.

I believe in two people and one or both of them changing during their relationship on whatever level with that other person. That a person can change you. And/or love can.

It's okay if two of the above are not really true..I can live with that, happy to know the truth rather than being deluded. Give me the truth anyday.

But, all I know is if say I had sex with somebody, I'd want them to know me and to know me sexually too, different things in my book. I'd want the talk afterwards. Unless I was angry or hurt- but then'd I'd still want the afterwards. I wouldn't force myself on them and I'd keep my expectations and dreamy fantasies to myself, but I'd treasure what we had even if it was brief. I want to see the meaning. I see that anyway. It can be just pure lust, sometimes when I'm ..put it bluntly..really horny, I think of having a stranger fuck me. It's weird though because I usually think of it in terms of someone I have a crush on is watching that. I can't not associate sex with something deeper in even my dirtiest fantasies. And some of them have involved extreme filth, but I always call that person's name and imagine their face.

Sometimes I think they should put that on the personal know what you look for in bed..and if you are looking for that. But then, it's not a route I'd go on myself. Love and I do not need to exist together. I have a great love for life and lust and that is what makes me not go looking for it in a person. In some people, that is what makes them go looking.

I'm a little naive and young. But I also have patience and strength and a maturity which you get when you have to be independant; a lot of it is learning, you pick it up.

I also sometimes just want to listen to music and imagine romance. I have images in my mind, romantic images. But I enjoy both music and romance.

Nearly the 1st March.

Firstly, yay. I love Spring.

Secondly, I think Erotica is so much a part of me, it's really inhabited every cell I have. That sounds dramatic but I feel it all the time. I mean I want it when I sleep too. I think I'm not just addicted but the want for it is so great, I refuse to not want it..I have seen this world and now nothing less will do. Sometimes other things matter so less in comparison.

Sex is part of all the stuff we have inside..emotions and fears and knowledge. It's not the be all and end all, for me, but it's deep inside and a big part.

More on "not every story"

"Tallie..Tallie I haven't even kissed you yet."

"So kiss me." I'm on the floor and Ry is fondling my ass. It's an awkward position but so sexy. He makes everything in me come alive and I want to try every thing.

"This is what you do to me, baby." He's turned me around and I see his blue eyes. They're going to kill me. He looks so intense that I could come just from him staring at me. Yes, I could.

"Don't ever doubt yourself." He says taking my face in his hands.

"I won't" I promise him. Then I feel his tongue love mine. I moan as his lips embrace mine and kiss each part of my flesh over there.

Friday, 26 February 2010

Not all stories ctd

It was cold outside her room. Cold and the slightest noise would make her jump. Grow up Tallie, go and see Ry. How many times have you thought about him? They had shared SOMETHING.

She walked ,her hands fidgeting with the ends of her cardigan. Why didn't she put on her bra? Stupid. She had all these incredibly stupid fantasies and then outside, out in the cold of the world, she wanted to bury herself back under her bed duvet. But her hands were shaking so much, she could barely fasten her bra on, she'd be surprised if her clothes were not inside out knowing her.

Oh God. This is it. *knock knock.* Tallie took a deep breath in. She WOULD do this.

"Oh." Kudos, kudos girlfriend you said that out loud. Well he did look jawdroppingly handsome. As always he made her wet just with this penetrating eyes.

The man in front of her, Ry Boa, Captain Ry Boa made her want to turn away and go back to her room.

"Did you want to see me?"

Stupid, stupid question, of course she does. Tallie, oh fuck, her name, Tallie was standing in front of him her beautiful mouth open and her eyes shining. She looked..scared and beautiful and brave and sexy. She looked so human he could take her just lift her and carry her to his bed and ravage her. Lose himself in her glorious unbound breasts, their nipples poking against her top, and eat her pussy. Oh the scent of her..she was too much for an animal like him. He wasn't even human for fuck sake!

"Yes. Yes I want to see you."

"Come on in."

He watched her, small in his space, fire and caution in her movements and face. He motioned to her to a seat.

"Sure." She nodded. Fuck, they were both so nervous he could tell.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"I wasn't doing anything." Only losing my body to the memory of your lips sucking my cock. I'd give anything Tallie to feel those shy unsure lips on me again.

"I..I haven't really spoken to you since..that time..that time we fucked."

She said fuck. His Tallie said fuck.

"Is that all we did?"

"Well" She blushed. "You and I were very intense at that point. I guess it was a very intense time."

"I remember all of it, every detail."

"So do I." His Tallie may blush and stutter but she could meet his gaze full on with her brown eyes. When everything got taken away from him, he'd miss those the most.


"My name's Ry."

"I know. You told me to call you that...

But I like calling you Captain...

And Sir.."

"Do you Rosseau?"

She smiles at me when I say her surname only, not her first.

"Tallie Rosseau, Captain."

I'm gone. "I miss your voice."

"I miss yours too. Your strong commanding voice."


"I miss your hair."

"I cut it off."

You'll pay for your backtalk. "I miss your hair, the way it felt in my hands."

Did she understand me?

"I miss your body Captain." She changes subject.

"I miss yours."

"Your tough unyielding strong body." She goes back.

"I miss yours soft, fleshy hips and pale bottom." Two can play.

"Do you miss spanking me?"

"I miss that so fucking much."

"I fantasise about you spanking me every morning."

"I fantasise you suck my cock after supper."

"I fantasise you suck on my boobs before bed."

"I'd never get to sleep if I did that. I save it for the morning after I eat your wet pussy out for breakfast."

"But I've scarred, Ry." Her voice is soft. "And I'm not the same inside."

Do you think I care?! "I want you. Each difference in you."

"I can't do this Ry." There's no Captain anymore in her teary voice.

In the next second, I'm kneeling beside her. I place my head on her knees. "I won't leave you until you do. One more time Tallie. Don't deny me."

"You're strong you can take it."

"I can't. You break my heart..

I have one Tallie."

"I never said you didn't."

"Those men do."

"Ignore them. They don't know you because they refuse to."

"Tallie..your thighs are so soft." I want to kiss each part of her creamy flesh..but it's all hidden under clothes.

"Tear my clothes off.."

She makes me crazy.

I can't believe this is happening. What had I expected? We could just quietly talk about "the past." Not with my Captain.

"Just so you know Tallie." He takes me in his arms. Strong arms. "The man who tears your clothes off has a questionable status as a man. I don't fit into any category. I'm harsh, strict and I never talk shit. I'm not the man you can take home to your mama, I'm not the man you and your girl friends ever dreamed of marrying at school. You should be with some young fresh stud. Not me."

"Bullshit Captain."

I see his face get hard.

"Back talking me Tallie?"

"Oohh Yes Sir"

He bends me down, still holding me, I'm on the floor on my knees.


He tears my trousers off me. Spanks me HARD.

"Thats what you get for interrupting me, slut."


"I was going to say that I'm not any of those people, but I will love you for eternity and claim you fully." He spanks the other cheek.

"Sir, I know. " I moan. I knead my boobs against the floor. Tear my top Ry, tear it off.

Previously on this story from the start (my start ;a continuation on a story book I had read about a commanding Captain)

Every morning Ry would walk past her door. He knew she would be on her bed thinking too much over what had happened. They had done things. He had done things to her. He hated to feel the way he did. Because he knew how she felt. He knew her. But the sickness of it was, he couldn't get the memory of her bent on the floor, ass in the air and arms stretched out, as he had ordered, begging him to come inside his slut.

He remembered the way she responded to his hands on her round bottom. The way she leaned into his palm more and more as he spanked each cheek. The way her skin would redden. It made him want to lick each part. He was overwhelmed with the protectiveness he felt for her. When he came inside her asshole, he stroked his hand over the bottom of her belly because even he didn't have the strength at this moment to pick her up in his arms where she belonged. Where she belonged? What was this possessive shit running through him? So she let him spank her. Why did that mean he loved her? She looked at him with her deep brown eyes and touched his spent cock. He remembered the way it hardened again. Why was he always hard around her? What was she doing to him?

"No baby .." He whispered but she had her mouth on him already. She was sucking his cock and his head fell back. She had become really good at this.

She made a noise and looked at him. He shook his head. Nevermind. But he was proud of her. No woman had ever touch him the way Tallie Rosseau did. Not even his first wife.

The door opened and she looked straight into his eyes. I can't do this, Tallie thought. She wanted to close the door and go back into the room. It wasn't necessary to have dinner at the cafeteria..she could just take something into her room. Like she had done the last few weeks.

Then, she just closed the door behind her anyway and tried not to stumble onto him. He looked ..the way he always had done. She had suffered the impact of the last bomb and was left with scars on her body and face. He wasn't. But he had suffered with her. She just wouldn't let him in. She couldn't. A part of her had shut down and Ry was not much of a talker. He just kept holding her hand never letting it go she remembered in the hospital. He kept looking into her eyes, searching, waiting for her to speak. She hadn't spoken one word to him since that bomb exploded near them. She remembered the way he tried to shield, the way he almost picked her up when she couldn't run as fast as him.

As she walked past him, she thought, her hero.

"Rosseau are you going to talk to me?"

Damn it she was right in front of him. Looking away not meeting his gaze but he invaded her personal space.

"It's Rosseau now?" He almost smiled when he heard her voice. It was the first time she had spoken to him since those bastards had..

"Tallie" He cleared his voice. "Tallie," He took her hand. She flinched.

She was scared of him? She was still not meeting his gaze, he wanted to touch her chin, look at me he would say, damn it why wasn't he blessed with words? He couldn't ever be a smooth talker but he would try and gentle himself for her.

"I need you." He whispered as she half ran away.

"What'll you have M'am?" The bartender asked Tallie as she tried to sit on the high seat. At least the pain in her body had gone down.

"I don't want anything." She met the bartender's gaze. I just want to sit here, she thought. "Just the food menu" She said quietly. He brought it to her.

She knew she had some sort of a reputation now. Things had changed from her day as the quiet studious computer analyst. She was now the Private who got injured in the war. The one who was discovered naked with her Captain not short before.


She ignored the people around her and read the menu. She would order something different tonight.

"Look who it is."

"Oh hey Ben." Ben was one of her friends from their old days training together. He looked exactly like all the men here in their uniforms, except he had the kindest face.

"I took your advice Tallie."

"What happened?" Tallie smiled. Ben had wrote this woman he had been seeing at his parent's home. He was an articulate young man and she was happy to be in his company again.


"So, I'm sorry for what you went through."

"Hey" Tallie shrugged

"I"d be giving you all the medals. You're my hero."

She laughed.

"I'm serious. To come back after that." He shook his head. "You've got inner strength, that's counts more than us" He motioned to his uniform.

"We're all here to serve a purpose. You too Ben. Sometimes you never know how much something affects someone."

He placed his hand over hers. She did almost pull away. But this was Ben. She looked into his eyes the first person she had properly interacted with since the war; she didn't feel skittish at all right now.

"I..just .."She sighed.

"It's okay Tallie. " He stroked her arm in a friendly way. Please don't cry he thought. "'s ..come on, it's okay" She cried and after his initial nervousness, he took her into his arms.


It was only after the red had gone from in front of his face could Ry find the words again. "Your. Arms. Away."

"Captain, I swear.." The young man looked nervous but Ry almost handed it to him, he didn't flee away.

"He wasn't doing anything, man I saw." The bartender looked at Ry as though he thought Ry the monster may punch him.

He swallowed. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible and take Tallie with him.

He looked at Ben console Tallie, she was no longer in his embrace and Ry saw the tears on her face. Had he added to them? He watched how much care Ben took with her. Okay so he was just a friend. But he didn't know that before. Tallie despite what she may think about herself was a beautiful woman and with her quiet nature..some men may take advantage. Like he did. He felt sick.

Not that he would ever..and she, well , it was very defnitely consensual but she had two sides to her and that side the one she shared with him , he had a feeling that didn't come out that often if ever at all. And now it had and especially with her near fatality she had gone more shy than before.

Ben offered him a friendly smile as Ry watched Tallie on the chair. She was completely still. Then she started to get up.

Please. Please. Please. He wanted to whisper in her ear. He couldn't care less about the people watching them.

He followed her once she walked past him. Her body so close to his.

Once they were out the door, he thought she may shout at him. But she didn't say anything. Just kept on walking.

He watched her. Around her, he couldn't control himself. But he didn't want to add to the pain she was going through. He watched her walk away.

Tallie closed the door and leaned her head back. He smelt so good. He didn't wear what other men wore, he just smelled like him.

Any woman in her right mind would have been embarassed. She was clearly in the wrong state of mind. All she could think about was him coming through the door and fucking her against it. But of course she smiled, he wouldn't.

She touched her scar on her cheek. She still had the same needs inside. She had feelings for Ry. She loved him. It was easy to admit. Her heart and mind were starved for him.

She ran her hand over her breast and plucked her nipple through her top. It was only last night she thought about him spanking her. He would have come in her room and asked her to face the wall. Then he would have taken down her fitted trousers and lace panties. Panties he made for her. He would breathe in her ear, "don't shut me out" His voice a whisper and his lips would caress her ear lobe, then she felt a spank. Gentle and hard at the same time. That was him.

She needed a shower, all this pent up emotion. Maybe after she would pluck up the courage to go back to dinner. It wasn't him. It was just being out of the silence of her room.

When Tallie undressed, she always thought of him. She was almost hesitant to take off her panties, knowing Ry liked them so much. She fantasised about stepping in the shower, warm water running over her body in only her panties. Him seeing her through the transparent shield and taking his clothes off as she watched him and he watched her. He had a beautiful frame due to the strict military training he went through. She thought his body would be capable of so she actually knew. She would never forget the way he fit against her. Her shyness was often a barrier but he broke past that and his mental strength was as high as his physical. Perhaps it was the way he was born and the obstacles he himself had to go through. She sensed there were things he wanted to tell her..but Ry was a man of action.

And she knew he wouldn't speak much when he saw her in the shower. Once he had undressed, he would stroke his erection. Being genetically altered, he was different to other men in that department. He was so beautiful. She would eye his cock and feel the water mingled with her own scent drip down her body. She would look him all over. From his beautiful piercing blue eyes to his strong legs.

He looked her all over too. He would have her backed against the wall. Leaning forward, he touched her pussy easily visible through her panties. She moaned. He made a noise. His fingers were strong and never left her. With his other hand, he stroked her ass. It felt like he touched every part of her flesh. He didn't ask her to turn around, instead he made her. Then he ripped her panties and she moaned violently. He supported her body with his big body and added a third finger to her pussy. She looked down and saw his beloved panties a scrap against the floor.

Her breasts felt heavy and she remembered that he told her he fantasised about fucking them. That he got off on imagining coming between her soft tit flesh. He hadn't yet sucked her nipples. It was like he was prolonging it. Was he a breast man?

She couldn't think anymore as just as she was close to coming, he slapped her bottom and drove his cock into her pussy. He was hard and needy. She was so wet and so needy. There was no time for foreplay. This was him possessing her. She wanted to tell him not told back, that was it was okay, with him she would take the harshness she felt he was ashamed of, his need, his nature, it was okay with her. Because it was him.

When she felt his cock it was like he touched her womb as she had never felt before. She thought that was bulllshit but with him ..

"Oh Ry" She whispered, her face against the wall, his cock possessing her pussy and her bottom going crazy against his balls. Did he like them sucked?

He spanked her again and she smiled. The first time she had cried. Mostly with emotion. "Come in me please."

"Ask me again, Tallie" He hoarsely whispered her name. No one said it like him ever.


"Please what?"

Oh she couldn't wait..His dick was right in her and she just needed to come on it as he was lifting her on him and her tits were rubbing against the shower wall, "Pplease Ry"


"Beg me some more." He growled

"Sir." She moaned. "Please come in me. I need you."

"Oh God Tallie. "


He was power fucking her now. Fucking her like crazy.

Oh that felt..

She loved him and the words were gone from her mouth when..

He came so hard and she waited for him to come so she could..Once she came, it felt like she was experiencing his release also. Not just his cum but his whole cock which was still inside her and she felt that she knew it would be painful for him to break away at this point.

She fantasised about him fucking her like this in the shower. She was now fingering her wet aroused pussy. She didn't want to come without him. But she needed to and she could have done.

She wondered if she should just wear a garment and walk out like this. Wet, hot and messy.

In her bedroom she could have fantasies. Outside, she was a cliché. The brave, scarred woman. She wasn’t brave.

He was.

She remembered how she hung onto Ry, unable to do much. The training she received had left her. There were moments she was unable to move due to panic.

In her mind she wasn't the person she was when it came to the ultimate test that day. She had let herself down badly.

Why was she brave?

Because she had survived?

She avoided her reflection in the small mirror above the sink as she got out the shower. She used to like the way she felt once she came out. It showed in the way she looked. Although she was not vain and was content with not being the femme fatale beauty men in her society enjoyed fantasising over, she had a simple, quiet face. Now it was different.

But she still thought about him all the time. That hadn't changed. She would go to the grave with her feelings for him.

And then as she continued to towel herself dry, she realised that she wanted to be around him. If only to be around him. She had felt this before but something was different. It wasn't so much their time together. The intense sex they had. It was just purely and simply that her feelings for Ry had grown and grown. It was something she felt with every vessel of her body and every cell of her mind. He was a part of her.

So she got dressed. She thought she would go for a walk.

More, more, more..Slowburn.

"Hey, Mel.." She woke from her sleep, feeling his touch on her bare leg.

When she opened her eyes, she saw his face. It was beautiful. Not arch angel beautiful, no porcelain perfection but just gorgeous, alive, wise and strong.

And now he was sitting on his bed which she had fallen asleep on, not a stitch of clothing on him or her in the middle of Autumn. It was dark in the room and she could still see his hand, belonging to her calf, it would miss his hand, it wasn't complete without it. Despite the fact they needed to talk, knowing he was downstairs, she slept just knowing he was under the same roof as her.

"We should talk." Mike said.

"Yes." This was not the first time their hands would reach for each other and not the first time that broke her heart.

" first." She told him.

She could get lost completely with his hand on her...


"What?" She replied.

Mike laughed.

For some reason, and she knew what it was, Mel felt a prick of anger when he laughed looking at her face.

She tried to let go of his hand but he had an iron grip on it.

She just stared at him. Angry. And in love.

"I'm sorry."

Well you should be, this isn't funny. She WANTED to say that. But she melted at his apology. No, she didn't melt, she just thought she'd hear him out.

"I love you." He said.

Nodding her head, she wondered what would follow..

"I need to work through this thing."

"Don't say on your own."

He looked at her.

"You're FUCKING kidding me."


"Let go. I said let go of my hand."


"Jeez..this is such horse shit. I sleep in your bed NAKED waiting for you to come here, waiting for you to love me and you just don't even know me."

"Stop, Mel, stop right there." He placed his hand over her mouth.

Real mature she spoke against it.

"What's with YOU Melanie?"

She raised her brows at him. Then he took his hand of her mouth, the kindness of him.

"You know what's wrong?"

"I THINK I do. Why don't you tell me?"

"Why because then we wouldn't have to talk about you? Don't think I haven't noticed." She muttered spitefully.

"Really? So, some people just aren't so open.."

"So what are you going to do Mike..act all broody and shit and distance yourself from me. I dare you to break up with me and then come to me 5 days later and tell me word for word why you did it. I DARE you."

"Don't talk like that. You're not a brat Mel, don't act like this. This isn't you."

"What if it is? Let's say for arguments sake a girl hasn't slept for a week, stuffed herself with food all in the name of comfort and gone without her man for 7 whole days at least. Don't you think that would make her a little bratty? Not all of us are so..polite. Michael." She spat in his face.

He kissed her so passsionately then, she almost came. She wanted to pull away because he was being the brat but..dear lord it was Mike. Mike's lips taking hers, his tongue not giving hers any rest. He wasn't playing with her lips now, he wasn't exploring them, he was just..oh WOW doing that and so much more..

He broke off and they both gasped. "Where'd you learn to kiss like that?" Mel couldnt help but ask him longingly as he pinned her to the bed.

His mouth quirked up. He have her a crooked smile.

She smiled back. "Like this is over." She scoffed.

"No, it's far from over. And just to make it clear Melanie Hawes, I am NOT breaking up with you not now, not in the near future.

"Let me when you do decide darling."

He just shook his head at her.

"I just don't get you. You can give yourself so completely in bed, I'll test you and then you'll lose control but you can't talk to me about it. I feel like I'm a problem for your problem..

..Just hold me, damn it." She sat up and lay her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry sweetheart" he whispered to her as he wrapped his arms around her. "I want to give you all of me..I'm trying."

She nodded.

"Baby, I have a problem, but you're not to take on any of that responsibility. How can you not, right? I just.. can you just do me one thing; accept that I have this and one day I WILL get through this."

"Just not on your own"..She interrupted.

"I have to on my own. I mean I'll be doing the work. I don't want you to feel my pain.."

"You feel pain?"

"Okay" He gave out a sound. A wounded sound, a sigh, worse than that, it was the worst strangled sound she heard.

"Someone hurt me in the past." He whispered.

"Oh." This had never happened to her. Because she never let anyone in. Because she'd been a loner. Because despite her openness, she felt her heart tear and no words other than "oh" come to her when he told her this.

"I'm sorry. " She kissed his chest. His heart was beating so fast. She just hugged him. She didn't want to force him.

"I love you." She said looking up into his eyes.

He smiled, watery, honest eyes.

When he opened his mouth, she kissed him. "Please..if it tears you apart, you don't need to tell me. But if you need to, I'll hold you I promise."

They lay down on the bed, and he never let go of her body, his arms completely cradling her.

"You waited for me." His eyes shone in the dark. "You waited it out. You were scared and you did it. I have to be honest with you, I have to tell you."

Okay she nodded.

"When I was training to be a police man, I worked under this man who was somewhat of a maverick. He definetely took risks. One of the risks involved 5 people dying. Not one, five." Michael's broken voice was a ragged whisper.

"I let him do that. I could have stepped in..but I let him and then I almost killed a man myself. I was so STUPID."

Kissing his chest she waited for him to continue, hearing his heart.

"I trusted him. You know? I thought that what he really wants to do his bring justice. He just does things differently. I thought he cared...

..But he was a danger to the community., himself and he could have brought down the whole police force."

She felt Mike shake a little.

"Did he?"

"No. I don't know what happened. To this day, the events are hazy at best. I just remember I pulled up in my car and pointed a gun to his face. I shot him, Mel. At that moment, I pulled the trigger and I fucking lost any integrity, any control, that I am supposed to have as a police man. I shot my boss near his heart...

..I quit my job the next day but that guy was locked up. His wife, his child are not going to see him for a long time. That's because of me. Because I couldn't stop my stupid pride and I had to confront him. I'm such a horseshit snitch."

"No you're not!"

"Yeah I am. I could have done this through the police force."

"The hell you could!"

"I should have...You know, people like me..we're in control otherwise but when it comes down to it..panic."

"Your logic and observations of yourself, Mr Stevens leaves a lot to be desired. But you're not stupid. And you're not a snitch. And you are most deinitely not horse shit. You're the best man I know and if you feel you did things the wrong way, you felt at that time and you did things according to your feelings. If you didn't confront him, your community would have suffered. I know, I know five men got killed but you did what you thought was best. Plus, he took advantage of you! So you have to move on, baby. I know it's not easy and it must cause you many, many nightmares..but you have to move on. You just have to. And now you have me, so.."


"So..move on. With me. I don't know how to explain it. I'm not being blase. I just want you to move on with your life to survive.. You're here, do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah. yes I know."

"So you have to live..

..I still have to go to my first therapy appointment..Why dont you come with me?..

You dont have to talk just be there in that environment.."

I'm not making that about me."

"But this is."

"I'm not sure if I want to lose control with you though. I don't know how far I'd go."

"I want to know. I want you to know...

If you hurt me unintentonally I'd still love you." And as un PC as that was, she would. Lock her up, throw away the key she was certifiable at the very least.


"Any thing else you want to tell me, my therapy patient?" She put on a voice.

"No" He laughed.. it was more a bark of laughter. She thought he may need it.

"Well..if you think of anything, tell me right after you ravage my breasts."

The weekend begun last night; Thursday!

With ..Restoration.

This book is very sexy. I haven't read anything like this.

It's beautiful in its exploration. There's no fear and yet there's so much insight and dimension to the main character especially.

I had once read something similar but this one is EROTICA.

What I love is anything you can see beforehand in the story ADDS to the sexual tension, it doesn't take away.

The man is so sexy. And his personality comes across even just in his words.

This book also has one of the most sexiest Erotica I have ever read in my life. It's so gorgeous in every way. It's wonderfully sexual and let's just say the statue is throughly enjoyed. One to read on your own and/or with your man, it can certainly open up doors!

"Museum Restorer Theresa is thrilled when an ancient, dirt covered Roman Statue of Priapus comes into her care. She finds him fascinating and he becomes her erotic obsession. Night and day she is consumed by her lust for Priapus. Unknown to Theresa another person has been overtaken by the same obsession. It is only when her project is completed and Priapus is out on display that she discovers she is not the only one willing to take great risks just to worship the ancient god's giant penis.

About the author:

Victoria Blisse a multi-published author. To find out more visit

Extract from Restoration...

I can indulge my fantasy now I’m safe in my home. Lying on top of my bedcovers, I close my eyes and imagine. I imagine I’m riding that cock, that cold, stony cock as I slam the thick vibrator into my frustrated, weeping cunt. Harder and harder I thrust, imagining the marble shaft filling me. I can see it, I can feel it but I just need a little something more.

‘Theresa, you dirty slut.’

‘Oh, Doctor, I didn’t know there was anyone here.’

‘Hush, girl. Hush.’ His hands, his soft, silky administrator’s hands, flow down my curves, coming to rest on my buttocks, pulling them apart.

‘What a glorious sight.’ I can feel his hot breath on my cunt lips as I’m suspended half way down Priapus’s cock. His finger probes between my globes, pushing me forward as it thrusts painfully into my arse. I take my own finger and push it in, ignoring the pain and feeling the pleasure, imagining the humiliation of being found in such a position and being fingered in such a dirty, secret place.

I imagine another finger joining and then hear his zip being released.

‘I’m going to fuck you now.’ His plummy accent becomes rougher, letting the deep timbre of his voice shine through. ‘I’m going to fuck your tight little arsehole.’

He slams into me and I scream as I’m filled, stuffed to breaking point. His cock and the stone cock inside me, separated by just a thin wall and, as he speeds up the pace of his thrusts, I melt into the marble below me, my nipples stinging on the cold stone as he fucks me with such ferocity.

‘Such a dirty girl, such a naughty girl,’ he pants, slamming his hot shaft deeper into me, rubbing against the unmoving, cold stone in my cunt.

‘I’m going to come.’ I gasp it into the air as a second later I scream out my creamy orgasm, then collapse with a sob. Doctor Browning (just like Priapus for that matter) is out of my league. I can never have either of them. One is a priceless artefact and the other a man of the world, a man who interacts with hundreds of people – with hundreds of women – every day. I don’t have a chance of getting him to even take a second look at me."

Thursday, 25 February 2010


So why can't men just allow women to have their fantasies? I mean, look at how many men's magazines there are with half naked women on the cover.

As soon as we talk about Twilight and eternal love, the reaction is pah! It's not just men who have this reaction but a lot really seem to have a problem with it. The problem I have with their problem is..they don't live and let live. I've noticed they get quite aggresive. I just wonder not having spent much time with males, thank God I have to say at the moment, is this just part of them being male? Is it true, is it their testosterone?

I've seen men be quite manipulative. Not just men obviously but I have noticed they go further than a woman when they see something and someone they like or when they see something or someone they hate. This is an observation and if you're a man reading this, I don't include you in this automatically just because you are a man. However, you've spent time with your guy friends, is it the testosterone in your group? Is it competition?

It just makes me nauseous. I can't be around humans like this. I switch off and have to bury my head in my hands.

I was reading about how modern women are more choosy in their mate? Are you kidding me? If the choosy "demands" are a decent job with decent salary, a certain level of power, non scruffy clothes, healthy body- appearance, then to me that is just a basic human requirement. We are turned on by different things but to me it's acceptable to look in a mate you want to start a family with or build something with, to have these so called demands. Whilst I draw the line at choosing footballers or businessmen with yachts or men over 6ft with a full head of hair, I can understand women who would do that. That may be sexism and I think men who do not fit society's requirements get treated as badly as women but women do have it that bit tougher.

You can get a man with acne who has girlfriend because he's strong, fit and tough but a woman with acne? If a women does not wear any make up, she will get far more comments and rejection. My point; more emphasis on the way a woman looks and it borders on perfection with women not just with women by other women but by men also. They may like "curves" but they also turn their noses up and pretend to be Brad Pitt amongst women who don't have long hair or big eyes. I don't and I have to look in the opposite direction so I don't make the mistake of a meeting a man's gaze. And mistake it has been on all occassions in the past distant and not so distant. And I'm not just talking from my experience. I hear what men gossip about when I'm out...not about me by the way..They can be with their wives or have a child, but they don't seem to have softened. I find their attitudes and they have them, repulsive.

And men on forums not even dating site forums but movie forums, interactive general networking ones, my God the things I have read. I won't even repeat them.

Now when a man chooses a woman he may want a woman with fairly good skin and atheletic limbs and thick hair and again I understand. And again I draw the line at men who go further to flawless skin, long legs and very very full hair even fake, but I also understand their choices. It's just again it comes back to the difference of having that aggresiveness in going after what you want, and not having that so much. Do women tend to show more remorse?

I know we don't have objectify as much as men do. I've heard men talking about a woman as though she's ugh. That's it, just ugh. But a woman will say more things about a man who she may find "ugly." Like, he's more than that but a woman is not.

Of course there are men half naked in advertisments and woman with life size posters of Taylor Lautner topless, and our lust can be aggressive too. And it's going the absolute wrong way by giving as good as we're getting on a superficial level only.

I've been thinking about women who pose topless and do the men's magazine shoots. Now, I think this is part of sexuality. To show. Sometimes we want to and sometimes we want to be dominant in that. But why is it so much more women than we see more publications of a man grabbing his cock than a woman grabbing her boobs? The answer we already know.

Is sexism going to go away? Only if we are absolutely honest and dissect everything. Is it important? Yes. It's going to change our world.

My own demands; I NEVER want to mate with someone who has sexist views and will not change them. I must have a man who sees beauty beyond society and doesn't categorise in terms of looks OR personality. I must have someone who can get excited about a woman as a human being. That's whom I want children from. And I'll be honest that is my idea of perfection. I will give him my heart, body and soul. Till then, I will give only my body (because I'm a pervert and sex is very important to me) and if I want to raise a child, I will go through adoption, something that has been on my mind lately. I'm never going to settle when it comes to love or lust. I know how to take care of my lust and I am very willing to explore the BDSM scene and get whipped every Friday or do the whipping myself who knows.

When it comes to love? I know I may fall in love but I won't be united with anyone I fall in love with unless I find he is not sexist in the slightest. A tall order? Too fussy? Too demanding? "That's just the way it is."

Wednesday, 24 February 2010

Man on Man.

So I have overlooked one erotic romance genre; male on male. I'm very selfish in my Erotica choosing. I want to read preferably a man doing great things to a woman's body parts and feel that on my own parts and if not, menage. I had the best dream last night. It wasn' erotic, just friendly. It was so good my socks got taken off somehow. I was so warm and comfortable, I was kind of happy. Content. I wasn't in pain.

With this pain, I don't want to lose the ability to feel. There have been times when I have seperated lust and Erotica from my pain because I just can't be two people..but these people are me, these are just two sides to one human being. I guess I'm not embrassed to feel that pain anymore. I'm also less embarassed of myself.

You know I didn't even know this book was man on man and the funny thing is whilst I find two men kissing incredibly erotic more so than a man kissing a woman especially onscreen, when I was reading the description, I was like's a guy, this personal assistant is a guy. But then I'm reading it more and of COURSE it's a guy. I'm so envious of male on male Erotica because they seem to go that step further; giving as good as getting. It just feels even more equal.

There's tenderness AND honesty but it's done in a way that is so beautiful and just different to how a man is with a woman in erotic romance. Maybe a man can't talk to a woman even his passion like he would if he was in a relationship with a man, he doesn't feel he can do it? Because it can be rough or too tender..and rough is good with me but THIS male on male erotica just what I like.

I mean I'm for the talk too. I think words ARE important doesn't matter how many or how little (in fact some men never shut up and that puts me off. She says) and here in this excerpt, this is the talk I WANT, I NEED to see, read and hear between a man and woman just whatever in a relationship, in erotica, in life. Maybe it's a romance thing, maybe there's less romance here in the romantic romantic woo-ing traditional sense and ..again I come back to how a man would think about a woman, I just wish it would be in the way he would think about his man. I would love to have this erotica done male male and then male female and just change the name, body parts, and certain sexual acts.


"Beau Bradbury stared at his laptop, the last quarter’s earnings for Club Casbah slowly burning into his retinas. Glaring at them didn’t change the fact that memberships were on a downward swing. With the economy doing a nosedive, people just weren’t willing to splurge on expensive gentlemen’s clubs in order to get their rocks off. Something would have to be done if he wanted to stay in the black, but he wasn’t sure what. He certainly couldn’t raise the already exorbitant fees he was charging current members. That would only result in losing loyal customers who couldn’t afford the rate increase.

He refilled a highball glass with bourbon and swallowed the bitter brew, enjoying the heat that spread down his throat and crashed into his stomach. If there was ever a good time to get drunk, this certainly looked like the occasion.

Leaning back in his chair, Beau tried to think of some way to drum up business without losing his edge.

Casbah was known as an exclusive club, meaning he couldn’t promote a two-for-one deal without fucking up the club’s reputation. People didn’t pay good money for a club any Tom, Dick, or Harry could be admitted into at a moment’s notice.

After draining the glass, he topped it off yet again. A pleasant buzz built as he drank his fill. Thoughts of work circled around and around in an endless loop. With no easy solution in sight, his business woes slowly dissolved and were replaced by Beau’s favorite mental candy these days.

Adam Winger.

Having hired the young man as his personal assistant the month before, Beau was still on his best behavior around the guy. At twenty-one, Adam was a prime specimen of male virility. Twelve years older than Adam, Beau normally felt like a perverted chicken hawk for lusting after the younger man. At the moment, he just felt horny and in need of some TLC.

However, he had no intention of acting on his desire to fuck Adam’s pert little ass into next week. That didn’t mean he couldn’t think about it all he wanted, though. No one ever needed to know who he was fantasizing about on the rare occasions when he rubbed one out.

It wasn’t that he lacked for company so much as he was sick of the club scene. Taking care of his own needs was simpler than bringing someone home for the night, then having to kick them out the following morning. His taste in men invariably meant he chose the clingiest guy available, someone he’d have to pry out of his life with a crowbar, regardless of how quickly the other man had agreed to casual sex the night before.

Being a wealthy business owner had drawbacks as well as perks.

Those who weren’t swayed by his bank account would usually drop and spread ’em for his blond good looks or the body he religiously exercised. Single and in his thirties, Beau had no intention of letting an ounce of fat touch his short and stocky frame. If he weren’t careful, it would be too damn easy to go from solid to flabby.

Perish the thought. A fat ass wouldn’t catch the attention of anyone, regardless of how much I’m worth.

Beau closed his eyes. His mind flashed from one improper image to another. Adam taking advantage of Beau’s home gym, his pale skin glistening as he made use of the treadmill. Sweaty black curls clung to the sides of his heart-shaped face. Beau was half convinced the man’s tiny running shorts and nearly transparent tank tops were designed as punishment for horny, leering men of his ilk. Learning Adam dressed to the left, and had surprisingly large balls for a man his size, had been worth the torment.
Another image came of Adam decked out to the nines in a formfitting rented tux, his cheeks tinged with pink from all the compliments he’d received during the last party at the club. The coquettish looks and bashful blushing had only made Beau want to bend Adam over the nearest booth and fuck him all the more.

Beau palmed his cock through the slick fabric of his slacks. Christ, he ached. It’d been too long since he’d gotten laid. That was going to have to change. Soon.

A quiet knock sounded on the door, followed by Adam’s deep voice. “Boss?”

“It’s open.” Beau yanked his hand away from his dick and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

Adam opened the door and then strode into the room carrying his laptop. His curls stuck up in spiky little ringlets, as if he’d been running his fingers through them. Dressed casually, Adam wore a pair of snug chinos and a faded black T-shirt. “Hey, I was just going through your calendar for this month, and it looks like you’re double booked for the thirtieth.”

Speak of the devil, and he appears. Beau blinked away his inner thoughts and stared at the man he’d been obsessing over for the last thirty-plus days. Already half-hard, his cock gave a tiny, happy jerk inside his pants. Why does Adam have to be so fucking adorable?

Beau coughed, trying to concentrate on what Adam was saying. Not an easy feat when his mind was busy translating everything into a subtle come-on. “Why don’t you switch the Adalgo appointment to the morning of the first and cancel my racquetball game with Mitch.”

There. I can do professional, even while half-baked.

A hint of wet pink tongue flashed over Adam’s lower lip as he stared down at his laptop. “That’ll work.”

Beau swallowed a groan.

Adam looked up, his deep brown eyes concerned. “Are you okay?”

Fuck. He hadn’t meant to make a noise. “Fine.”

“All right.” Adam closed his laptop. “Is there anything else you need from me tonight? It’s closing in on seven o’clock, and I’d like to call it a night.”

“No. I –” Beau’s gaze lowered to Adam’s mouth while the younger man licked his lips and made the plump, rosy flesh glisten.

Beau’s control snapped like a dry leaf. Fuck it. “There is something I need from you.”


Beau got up, his legs a little unsteady beneath him, and advanced toward Adam. “I need you to stop batting your lashes and undressing me with your eyes. If I see you lick your lips in my direction one more time, you’d better make damn sure you’re willing to back up the move with some action.”

Adam took a step backward. “I…I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“Don’t you?” Beau snatched the laptop out of Adam’s hands and set it on his desk. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you don’t think I’m paying attention. You want me. I know you do. Even if you’re too chickenshit to admit it.”

Adam’s eyes widened, his chest rising and falling faster. “If that were true, and I’m not saying it is, I still wouldn’t act on it.”
“Why?” Logically, Beau knew all the reasons. They no longer mattered. Lust overruled common sense and fueled his need to claim Adam in the most basic, intimate way possible.

“I work for you. Isn’t that explanation enough?”

“No.” Beau caught Adam’s chin and tilted it up. Without giving Adam a chance to pull away, Beau swooped in and caught the younger man’s mouth with his own. Adam’s lips were firm yet soft, the lower one providing just enough cushion for the brute force behind Beau’s kiss.

Adam gasped and parted his lips, providing just enough space for Beau to take advantage. He slid his tongue into Adam’s mouth and explored, caressing and teasing as he got his first taste. Adam’s mouth was flavored with the French vanilla coffee he favored. A hint of a darker, infinitely richer tang lingered beneath, prompting Beau to keep kissing, to keep savoring, until he could figure out precisely what that unidentifiable zest was.

Meanwhile he palmed Adam’s cheek, the skin hot and prickly under his hand, and buried his fingers in the soft black curls he’d been dying to touch since the first time he’d laid eyes on the younger man.

Adam’s reluctance slowly vanished. His mouth became more pliant, his tongue more daring. His hands fisted in Beau’s shirt and tugged him closer, returning Beau’s aggression tenfold.

Beau lost himself in the taste of Adam’s lips and the feel of the younger man pressing against him. Although Adam was an inch or so taller than Beau, his slighter build felt good in Beau’s arms. Right.

Beau’s pulse thundered in his ears, blood racing from one head to the other. He would’ve liked to go on kissing Adam forever, but his body had other, more pressing desires. All he needed was to hear Adam say he wanted this just as much Beau did, and then he’d give in to his desire to get the younger man naked. He yearned to press against Adam, skin to skin, and explore every inch of the sweet body he’d been fantasizing about for so long.

Panting, Beau tore his mouth away from the soft cushion of Adam’s lips. “Say it.”

Adam lifted his eyes and stared at Beau. “Huh?”

“Tell me you want me. I need to hear you say it before this goes any further.”

“I –” Adam swallowed…"

Amanda Young, Reckless Passion. "Book III in the Reckless series

Beau Bradbury has it all. He’s good looking, owns a lucrative business, and has an endless supply of hunks vying for his attention. His skinny, uptight personal assistant shouldn’t rate a bleep on his radar. Nevertheless, there’s just something about Adam that Beau can’t resist.

One night of drunken passion leads to nearly a year of secret trysts during office hours. Adam keeps his private life confidential, while Beau pretends to want nothing more than a good time. It’s a good arrangement, until a simple phone call ruins the status quo and makes Beau green with envy.

Frustrated that Adam might be seeing someone else, Beau tries to put his attraction to the younger man behind him. However, all that changes with the introduction of Adam’s son. Instantly smitten with the sweet little boy, Beau is all the more driven to claim Adam for his own. All he has to do is convince his wary lover to open his heart and trust that there’s more to Beau than his playboy persona suggests."

Tuesday, 23 February 2010

Speaking of Kink, today I was watching Secretary.

This is a movie I always come back to. So why I threw the stupid disc away is beyond me and my shit for brains. At that time.

Why? Why do I come back to this one?

I love the central performance. I really think Maggie Gyllenhaal is just perfect in this. I read that Gwyneth Paltrow was orginally cast. Now she is intense and intelligent but Maggie is RAW. I don't know which place she comes from in her roles but there is just something there that is exceptional and really just natural as if from a child, that kind of fearlessness.

I must have seen this movie 5 times and each time it's so beautiful. It's so romantic and brilliant. This young woman, really I see it as the story of this young woman. And I don't get to see that many women like her because something happens in a movie that let's me down (I have such weird expectations) where they are concerned but Lee Holloway is just so sexy. Really, you know sexy. Just full of LIFE. She's SO human. And Spader's character sees that in her even through her walls and shyness, he sees something that other people don't have despite their brashness.

That girl from the beginning I watched relating to her not fitting in, her sensitivity and her wanting to fit in somewhere and she learns that without compromising herself. From her telling us about the time she got caught cutting herself and was put into an instituition (I'm fond of instituition movies but the beauty in this one is what happens in the ever elusive AFTER), that she didn't know how she got caught because she had been cutting for years and we then see her metamorphisis. If ever that word applied, it's to her progression literally into this butterfly free with herself. Free with her will. Knowing what she wants. How much better can life get? Well of course you can get what you want but to just KNOW, I tell you I can relate to that one. That last shot of her looking at the camera facing it head on, eyes on us unwavering, confident posture, waving her love (as in the man!) goodbye as he goes to work, that shot is haunting.


First time I watched this movie I was overwhelmed. I wasn't into kink that much. I had read Erotica but it was from mainstream paperback novels. A lot of breast play. That I was into. Still am. Like that's ever going to go. But I had not read about spanking just the odd reference and it wasn't anything to give thought to. This movie changed that. When I saw Mr Grey her boss spank her arse hard for a typing error, this movie plays around; it's quite wicked and funny but you're laughing with it (that's the beauty, having fun with the genre, not mocking it- well, that's what I got) I was stunned. And I found it exciting. And romantic. It was all part of him paying attention to her. There lies the romance for me. You have to watch it with new eyes to get that because otherwise there's a fine line between showing your interest and giving attention to abusing that and the person.

Then second time I watched Secretary, I saw the central character more. And I'll call it a central performance though I know Spader gives as good as he gets. As always. Secretary is an empowering movie to me and now I watch it for that purpose; you go and get what you want. You don't deserve anything less. If you want to be spanked and leave your job and marry your boss, (seriously watch the movie before you start shouting at the non feminisism of my lazy summary), if you want to do all that, you should fucking well do that because it's what YOU WANT. That's really my goal. I have found that no matter how wrong or whatever it is, I'm going to do what I want. I'm going to indulge myself, and express myself and step over that line or whatever the term is, I'm going to go deep into the hot waters and get burned if I have to and when I want to and don't and drown..but I have to LIVE my life. I need to take the plunge. But I have all this inside of me and it has taken years of writing it, watching it, thinking about it.

So Secretary made me embrace kink. Kink. It deserves that capital. I found out Kink turns me on. I found it in the process I like submission and I like domination too. I found out I like spanking, to be spanked and to give them, to suck a man's cock, to eat another woman's pussy, to fuck a man's anal passage with my tits (I don't how that is possible but damn it I'll try!) and more recently sitting on his face whilst he eats me out obsessed with my flavour because it's from me..that turns me on.

After Secretary, some years later I watched Training Day (I'm sorry, you ARE hearing that story again) and that is a whole other lovely mess that got me into police men just HUMANS.. who are competent, passionate, have a soul and conscience and take risks. (I've always fancied- english slang for find attractive/want to make mind babies with- the pants of Ethan Hawke). And watching Secretary and reading Erotica and intense go for what you want Erotica, I don't care how stupid my crush is. I'll have others and know the realities of that crush, not expecting ANYTHING from it or any other crush just because it's "local." I'm going to and have been indulging in my crushes. This shit about of leagues, I NEVER even got that from the start, when I was young, I thought I was fabulous inside and that was all that mattered, that I was fresh and had this inside of me.

I want to talk about EVERYTHING. That is me; I fantasise and tell. And in doing that I've noticed my typing has improved, I'm more articulate and the writing in my stories is slowly, slowly improving too. I know my faults including faulting myself wrongly at times..I can't see when I do that but I know I am capable of it. I don't hate myself for being human. That's a big thing with me; I must be myself. No matter how much trouble I get and the mocking and the whole appearance mocking thing, I just am happy with myself for having this inside of me. Now, I want to work on getting that out. Not to change how I look though I like to make the best of myself and I want to now do it only for me and not to stop anyone judging or mocking but to just be free in my movements and face. Do you know how long it has taken to me to see me? To see when someone when someone says you are beautiful or pretty. It's still embarassing but I don't put the more bad comments before the lesser good ones anymore.

And I still get nervous, that maybe won't ever change but I'm one person with people who really know me or in a particular space/environment and one person outside that and outside my comfort zone. These two extremes are meeting in the middle. I think, like Lee in my search for me, I'm changing too. And who cares if that is self involved! Man, I help people and I want to but I HAVE to know me too. I have to help myself.

So now I need to audition. I need to do this despite my fear. My fear of what? fucking up? No. Just the people there. Ha! JUST. Well, like it or lump it, I used to take risks so many actually at school and I got results. So who's to say I won't be good again. Or I'll be bad, DIRE, but at least I tried. At least I would have done it.

Then I go to a bondage club. I want in. I want to join. That is scarier than the audition, the intimacy, I'm going to blush so much it won't be pretty but I'm doing it because I want it so bad. Make sure you remind me of this constantly because I need a push.

Monday, 22 February 2010

More Slowburn.

"Please, please I can't wait, I want your mouth on my tits, Mike, make me beg if you want, I will. I'll crawl those stairs and swing my arse out for you. I'll make a real show. It's only because I WANT you."

"I tasted blood Mel from when I crushed your lips." He looked into her eyes but his hand still possessed her breast.

Bring that up. "I don't care." She moaned those words taking his lips with hers.

He pushed her against the wall.

"Shit." It took her by surprise and yeah it hurt.

"You want to hurt me?" She asked him. "I mean realy hurt me? Look at me." She whispered. But he wouldn't. His eyes were on the floor.

If we don't have communication we have SHIT! She was angry AT HELL at him. For pushing her, for not communicating with her.

She started to cry. Well, some people were in touch with their emotions. She thought he was okay too, yeah he had control issues, perfectionist issues, everyone had fucking issues but she loved him. And he was not letting her in. She saw him through her tears. But she couldn't call him cowardly because he was so much a part of her and it didn't feel like she could really call him anything.

She walked away. She started walking up the stairs. The stairs she was going to crawl nude up, except her nude body was straight as a stick, she could have pissed on those stairs, she didn't care. She felt very human and very vulnerable.

She saw his room and her tears worsened. He had put on the same coloured sheets as the night he made love to her. They were face to face and he had loved her with this fingers and then whilst in his handcuffs, her wrists tied to HIS bed, he wanted in her pussy and came inside her. Whatever happened, it was that day that she looked into his eyes and saw something that she could not even begin to describe.

"I'm going to lie on your sheets, on your bed, facing the ceiling. There maybe no handcuffs, but it will take a saw to remove my hands from your bed, baby." She was going to wait for him when he came back. Take his time. He could do what he had to do. His control would die today.

So, today I read a Sierra Cartwright book

In fact I read more than just one.

And as I write this I have one of her audio books in my ear. Literally there is a woman with an aussie accent telling me the story, using explicit language and it's quite exciting. The story that is.

Hmm now Erotica via audio is interesting. I'd rather if I'm honest read the story because then it's my voice and it's more personal but it definitely takes on an interesting element if it's someone telling you the story. For me it doesn't matter if it's a man or a woman. I like the idea it's a woman because it's like she's talking to me as in sharing something with me. Actually not that at all but perhaps someone feels that way about it? Still, I had to have this story so I would download it whatever means.

My favourite Sierra book is Fed Up. (This one wasn't audio). It was about a woman dominating a man. Right from the excerpt it got me. There's a snippet at the end of this post. But wait, boy.

I'm the biggest fan of dirty talk. Honest and earthy. I love that the female character in this book took charge of her life and of her man. And whether it's dominating him or submitting to him in Erotica in general, my favourite heroines are those who have that will underneath a quiet demenaour. The ones who don't mess around or play games because really why would you play mind games when the best ones are to be played in the bedroom? Why waste time? And I include Lee from the movie Secretary in this.

Fed Up has a lot of personality. Beth has a lot of personality. And she has a strong voice and will. The story has a strong voice and will. I liked the descriptions, the fact she remembered her husband Jon saying to her that he didn't want a woman's hip bones digging into him, he loved her body. Despite my prominent hip bones, I liked that. Because it's all in his voice, her voice and the context. It's not middle of the road nor is it alienatingly specific like the hero ONLY goes after brunettes with big boobs and wide hips and wide lips, you know?!

And the hero Jonathan. He's described as "dark blond, and every hair perfectly tamed, cut and shaped into harsh submission" which is a clit tease.

Details like this, personality, strength and will make Fed Up as timeless to me as Lissa Matthew's Simple Need, Sierra Dafoe's Built To Last, Rachel Cade's Foreign Exchange and Amarinda Jones' Because I can (can't wait till her new alter ego book comes out!)- oh yeah I can list more by each author by more authors, Kinky is a total erotic fiction slut.

And by the way, I'll let you know how that audio story S &M 101 works out for me..

Fed Up by Sierra Cartwright. And Jon is British.

"The door shuddered against the chain. She walked down the final two steps and across the foyer. Beth closed the door and unlatched it.

Jon’s eyes narrowed and she saw his penis start to grow as he looked at her.

She took a couple of steps back and said to him, “Drop your briefcase.”

After closing the door behind him, he put down the leather satchel. His eyes had that intensity in them, the intensity that made her damp and made her want to crawl into his arms.

She bounced the rounded off tip of the cane against the glossy side of her boots.

He seemed mesmerized. “Is that for me?”

“It is,” she said, continuing that rhythmic tapping motion.

He swallowed convulsively, and his Adam’s apple moved.

“I’ve always wondered what it might feel like.”

“You told me.”

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d forget.” They’d still been in the States, and they’d spent the day hiking in the Estes Park area. They’d been tired and hot, so they’d headed to town for a beer. That turned into a stop at the liquor store, and, fortified by liquid courage, they’d made love and then shared their deepest, naughtiest sexual longings. He’d confessed a few other things that night, and she hadn’t forgotten them, either.

“You’ll be finding out what the cane feels like in less than a quarter of an hour.”

“I—” He dragged a hand through his carefully moussed and styled hair.

Good thing she wasn’t facing him in court. One look at him and she wouldn’t stand a chance. Rational thought became all but impossible.

“Damn, Beth. Those boots. Fuck. You look hot. I want you already.”

She grabbed him by the tie and drew him close to her. She dropped the cane, hearing the rattan cane clatter against the ceramic tiles. With her other, free hand, she enslaved his balls.

“You’ve got my attention,” he said.

She’d given him instructions yesterday that he was never again to wear boxers, or any other kind of underpants for that matter. She couldn’t exactly tell through his trousers, but she suspected he’d followed orders. “Kiss me hello,” she said.

He did. Softly, sensuously. This was how a man who was in love with a woman kissed. She returned it, wanting him to know how much this mattered, how much he mattered.

Jon intensified their kiss. Her body responded instantly, and her pussy became a molten river of desire. She straddled his knee, her vulva parting.

“Ride me,” he encouraged. “That’s it. I want to satisfy you.”

Still holding him prisoner, she humped his leg. In the throes of her own ecstasy, she knew she was exerting uncomfortable amounts of pressure on him, but she was too far gone. She’d been waiting all day to come.

“I got home as soon as I could,” he said. He cupped her butt cheeks, giving her a little extra support and she ground her crotch against the steely strength of his thigh. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”

When she came, hard, she said, “Your trousers will need to go to the dry cleaners.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“You do that. But first, dry my cunt with your mouth.” Before she released him, she squeezed his nuts. “I expect, in future, that you’ll come in this door, put down your briefcase, then get on your knees and wait for instructions.” Her words echoed in the small foyer. “Am I clear?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Repeat what I said.”

“Every day, I’ll put down my briefcase, then I’ll get on my knees and wait for your instructions.”

She arched a brow pointedly. “If you understood so completely, why are you still standing?”

Abruptly, she dropped his testicles and released her grip on his tie.

He dropped to his knees.

She spread her legs and he moved closer. He placed kisses on her ribcage, then moved lower, pausing near her navel, then continuing lower. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her steady.

Then, sometime, somehow, he seemed to forget that he was supposed to be drying her with his mouth. Instead, she was getting wetter and wetter.

She grabbed hold of his head and dug her fingers into his hair. Oh, he was a master at pleasing her when he was totally into it. And he was.

She came again, her pelvis bucking against his face.

He held her until she rode it out. Then, like a good submissive, he cleaned her with his mouth, not stopping until her pussy was dry. “You’re a quick study,” she said approvingly.

“Trying to avoid that cane.” He seemed focused on the wicked looking-thing and not her.

“Rattan,” she said. Only the best for his naked flesh.

“Not bamboo? I thought canes were made of bamboo.”

“Bamboo is hollow. I didn’t want something hollow, so I bought you one that’s rattan, a good, solid eight millimetres around, about sixty millimetres long. It’s the perfect size for a beginner, I’m told. If you like, we can always get a thinner one along with one that’s thicker.”

He was mesmerized. He hadn’t taken his gaze from the rattan. Jon was definitely not looking at her, which was where his attention should be.

“At this point, there’s no avoiding the cane, you’ll just want to try to avoid further stripes from now on,” she corrected. “You’re going to be disciplined, Jonathan, just so you’ll remember how you want to behave in future. Stand and drop your trousers.”

He blinked but immediately reached for his belt to unbuckle it. She had to admit, if roles were reversed, she wouldn’t be nearly as well-behaved. Which, she supposed logically, was why the roles weren’t reversed.

“At this point,” she said, “you’re glad that you remembered my orders to never wear boxers again.” She squatted to pick up the cane.

He lowered the zipper after opening the button, then dropped his pants. He had followed orders. His cock jutted out appealingly. She couldn’t help herself; she wrapped her hand around its thickness. “All day, you thought about your sex organs, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he said. “And I thought about having sex. How bad I want to be deep inside you.”

“How did it feel, having your balls swinging back and forth?”

“Sexy. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way I felt with that cock ring on. And I thought about you all day. I couldn’t wait to get home.”

“Take off your tie and hand it to me.”

He yanked the knot free and slid the silk from around his neck. He draped it across her palm. “Good. Now strip the rest of the way. You’ll notice there’s a hanger right there, on the coat tree for your suit coat. The rest you can deal with later.” No need to hang his trousers. After all, they were going straight to the cleaners.

He finished undressing. “You know, your breasts look lovely. I want to suckle your tits.”

She smiled. “And I want to cane you.” Which one of them, did he suppose, would triumph? “Turn around.” She used his tie to secure his hands behind his back. They both knew it wouldn’t hold up if he put up a struggle, but it was a statement more than anything. “I’ll have you on your stomach, if you please. On the bed, spread-eagle.”

“Uh… No cock ring?”

“You liked that?”


“Then, no. No cock ring.”

She followed him upstairs and waited while he got situated on the bed. This time, there was no need to use a ruse. He was going to obey because he wanted to.

He knelt on the side of the bed, being careful to keep his hands behind him. She gave him a nudge between his shoulder blades, and he pitched forward.

She untied him, and he got into position, face down, even placing his pelvis on the pillows she’d piled in the middle of the bed.

Beth secured him much the way she had last night. “Wrists first,” she told him.

“I’m using a spreader bar for your legs.”


“It’s a long metal bar, and it will keep your legs apart. Your ankles will be attached to it.”

His struggles were limited because of the handcuffs.

“If you strained, you might have been able to get out of the ankle restraints. This way, you can enjoy your discipline.”

“Enjoy getting caned.”

“Indeed.” She secured the bar in place. “Comfortable?”

“Not particularly so.”

“I’ve positioned you so the fleshy part of your ass sticks up.”

“I think I’m insulted.”

“You shouldn’t be. You should be grateful. You don’t want the cane catching anywhere else.”
She saw him try to squeeze his thighs together. “I’ll be careful not to catch your balls with the tip.”

“Christ, Beth.”

“Since it’s your first beating, we’ll go easy. Six strokes should be sufficient since this is about discipline and not punishment, as I mentioned. This is merely a taste of what you’ll receive if you are disobedient in future.” She checked his restraints a final time. “Would you prefer to be gagged?”

She sighed softly. “The correct answer is, whatever you prefer. I’m afraid that will cost you an extra stripe.” She kissed the top of his head.

Moving into position, she delivered the first cut to his right cheek. He flinched, but said nothing.

Her boots echoed loudly as she went to the other side of the bed and then marked him for the second time.

He jerked convulsively.

“Are you sure about the gag?”

“Whatever you prefer.”

“I was right about you being such a quick study.” She returned to the other side of the bed. She took aim at that sensitive spot right between his ass cheek and thigh. That brought a soft grunt from him.

After she’d switched sides and given him another, she said, “Remember to breathe. You’re more than halfway there.” She kissed his neck. “You’ve got a couple of lovely stripes forming.”

He said nothing.

“Ready to resume your caning?”

“Whatever pleases you.”
She gave him the next two quickly, barely giving him time to recover. “You’ve one more to go.” Beth reached a hand between his legs. “Lift your hips.” He hesitated only a moment. “Your dick is hard,” she said, feeling him up.

“Yes. It is.”

“Next time, we’ll put the cock ring on you. Your balls are hard, as well. Excuse me?” she asked when he nodded.

“They are.”

“Sometime, perhaps, I shall cane you until you come.”

“If it pleases you.”

“This time, answer the question. Would you like that?”

He ground his hips and she pushed her thumb against his anal hole. “Yes!”

“You’re an excellent sub.” She pulled away. Bringing back her arm, she delivered the final blow as hard as she possibly could, across the centre of both of his cheeks, bisecting them.
He swore. But he started to hump the pillow.

“Stop that this instant, you naughty boy.”


“Do not come,” she warned him. Putting aside the cane, she released his hands, then unfastened him from the spreader bar. “Turn over,” she said.

His cock had never been harder or thicker.

“Please,” he said. “I want to fuck you. Let me fuck you.” There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before, a hunger, a demand only she could satisfy.

She climbed onto the bed. He seemed to completely forget his submissive tendencies. In only a few seconds, he had her on her back, beneath him. He paused, teeth gritted. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. Fuck me. Come in me.”

He didn’t last a dozen strokes.

She squeezed him tightly with her internal muscles.

“Beth! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” It took him long seconds for him to get his breathing under control. Then he collapsed on her. Turning on his side, he pulled her against him. “Damn.”

He dug his hands into her hair. “You’re the sexiest woman on the face of the planet. How the hell did I get so lucky?”

“You told me,” she said, “exactly what you wanted.” And she’d always make sure he got it. Keeping him happy was her greatest pleasure.

“You didn’t come,” he said.

“You noticed.”

“Is that a punishable offence?”

“It is.”

He shuddered again, and it wasn’t from fear, she knew, more like the devastating aftermath of a powerful orgasm.

“Do you suppose I could distract you?” he asked. “After all, I don’t want to be punished right away.”

“You could try.”



“I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying.”

“Good thing. God knows, I was fed up with the way things were.”

He moved, flipping her onto her back. He nipped the inside of her thigh.

“I like this access to your cunt. Don’t wear knickers ever again,” he told her.

“Convince me,” she said.

With his mouth, he gave her plenty of reasons…

Sunday, 21 February 2010

Are American men sexier?

I was reading how there's quite a difference in the openness of characters between English men and American men. I have to say the English men that I have interacted with on some level (I sound like a computer program) are not that open. I know much is made of the English charm and in cities like London you do meet some who are not smarmy but come across as intelligent..erm that's about it. I don't really get their sense of humour and they've never made me laugh in a good way. I suppose they're too English for a girl who grew up here all her life.

But, I've found men kind of shy here which is not a personal like for me. Plus, I don't know where I stand. I don't like to chase or play mind games. Laugh with me, openly flirt with me, that's what I want.

In my vast experience of speaking with two American guys who are not related to me, I've found their openness in conversation, eye contact and confidence as opposed to bravado, appealing. I can be friends with these people. And they were sexy.

To me sexy is not holding back. I'm not a big fan of the stiff upper lip even if I have one initially. I'm a bubbly person and serious at the same time and I like it when I encounter enthusiasm and an up for anything and everyone atttitude (you know what I mean). I've found a little bit of that attitude in the boys and men here but it's limited to certain circumstances and people. And then there are some males here who are just too ..nervous (maybe?) for my liking.

I wonder if in America, that's not the case. Are American men sexier? Of course I'm making generalisations, big ones perhaps, but I am talking generally. I know that human character depends on the human but actually I don't believe people are the same everywhere. That's not wishful thinking but their environment, culture and weather, yes even weather is going to have an impact. I seriously think England needs more sun; it contributes to that inner smile.

Aside from an English author and one American one who basically got the sexiest open character EVER, I don't even like reading Erotica which has an English hero. It's the description of the posh Hugh Grant type accent and elegance that sort of turns me off them.

I am purposely not talking about movies here because they're SO behind when it comes to England. Aside from Shaun of The Dead the comedy version. I didn't enjoy that movie all that much and the fact the actors harp on about it doesn't help, but at least those English characters were, shock horror, dimensional.

Photos supplied for enjoyment purposes. I was manipulative in my choosing. They're clearly different characters in their persona..I'm sure not at all influenced by their American or English nature..

Saturday, 20 February 2010


Because I have too much time in my hands when I finally wake after noon (yah I wish), I decided to purposely from today be picky when it comes to attraction. Why..because I'm an asshole? Yes and no. But because actually I do want what I want. Now, in reality I have fallen for people because of a thing. It's a personality thing, like they actually have one (laugh) or something about their body or face. I just find myself thinking about them but then I do think about sex a lot. A lot, in fact.

But why shouldn't women be picky? I mean I know men will say yeah they are anyway but I don't want to play games and be all yeah personality baby whilst secretly wanting I don't know a hardbody fucking me. I'll be honest. I like men who have an athletic body. I don't fall for them because of that but that is what I am attracted to. I would date a man who didn't have an athletic body, how kind of me, because frankly I love sex (and you can connect the dots yourself) and I wouldn't second date a man who turned out to be an asshole regardless of their body. But I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't have a one night stand with a man just for his body. Again, it's a sex thing.

I think women should be honest with themselves at the very least. We should know what we want and admit we don't know what we want at times. This is part of being human and you can call it neurotic or "that time of the month" (huh. well what's YOUR excuse?) (and actually not that time of month, i don't notice that affecting my sexual wants and needs).

But wait a minute, I'd trample over any guy to be with one who's GOOD in bed. I don't want a plank with defined arms and a few stomach muscles who does nothing. And by the way I'm not stupid, I know those muscles are there because that guy worked out and I can tell when they're obsessed and when they just do it occasionally. I'm not into the obsessed guys. Those who know more about ghd's than I do, those who fake tan (yeah really, embrace the skin you have, perfection is for robots) and pretty faces are just pretty faces but a man who does run occassionally or do some excersise is sexy to me because he's working. I link that to my non attraction to laziness in men. I don't like men who procrastinate or sit around day after day. I like passion and fever. Sometimes that intensity can be creepy ..

And this rule. Don't expect things from other people? Why not? Did we ever get anywhere by just being content? You can lose more when you want more but why not want more? To any woman, overweight or not, obese or very athletic, I say go for it.

Thursday, 18 February 2010

F****** Fridays.

I put in hours searching for a read that will be provocative. And that search pays off. Here is my latest find to be released tomorrow.


Copyright © EMILY RYAN-DAVIS, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

Pearl, Colorado

Autumn 1869

The tall, broad man standing on her back porch didn’t remove his hat. He braced his hand, callused and rough, against the frame above her head and said her name. “Miss Emma.”

Emma Morgan knew the words he hadn’t spoken. Beneath her flannel gown, her nipples tightened to hard peaks. His voice did that to her body every time, stroking her skin, slow and firm, as if it had every right to touch her. He’d never once offered for her hand in marriage. He had no rights in her bed. She welcomed him into it anyway. Most times. Tonight…

She inhaled, exhaled a sigh. He smelled like coffee and wood smoke. He’d probably spent the better part of the night beside a campfire. Unfortunately for both of them, she’d have to send him back to the campsite instead of inviting him inside. Her throat closed around a lump of disappointment. She’d rather keep him through what remained of the night and take him through two or three climaxes. Instead of stepping aside to grant him entrance, she studied his tall frame.

Mickey Lowe, foreman of Ethan Carver’s ranch, dressed for cowboy duty. He wore a thick sheepskin coat over his flannel plaid shirt and his denim pants were stiff, good-quality cotton despite the dirt that would never come out of them. Mouth dry, she studied the open collar of his shirt, the curl of dark hair that she would have mistaken for a trick of the shadows if she hadn’t known his body so well. His nipples wouldn’t be as hard as hers. They didn’t respond to the idea of her touch the way her body responded to the idea of his. She could coax them however, first with her mouth, later with the curves of her bottom as she sat atop his chest and teased him with the scent of her arousal. She so enjoyed the heavy-lidded sight of his eyes as she rubbed her spread pussy on his skin before rising over his hungry mouth, opening to his wonderfully strong tongue."

"Twin Mountains Ranch foreman Mickey Lowe can’t sit through one more night of newlywed relations without losing his mind. Packing up his frustration and yearning, he delivers himself to Pearl spinster Emma Morgan with the intent to inspire some lusty cries of his own.

When the cowboy comes knocking at Emma’s door late in the night, she believes she knows what he wants and she is ready for him in an instant…until she discovers what he’s really after.

I'm normally right about novels and judging by the intensity of the excerpt, sounds like that last part is going to pack a punch.

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Slowblow (burn) continued

She could feel his heart through his chest, pounding and full of life when they kissed. And it was a soul searing kiss, he took her tongue and made love to her lips. He never once that in the time he kissed her smashed them, even when he spanked her, even when he gagged her, he fucked, was possessive as shit but the most lyrical kisser.

His fingers played on her chin. He was getting even more possessive now, she didn't think that was possible. Mel broke away from his lips with a harsh moan, she heard his reaction too. What are you going to do, Mike, fuck me in the backside? Without even thinking, she kissed his chest. Small kisses all over with her mouth which felt beestung. He once told her her lips could make him come. She laughed. They were small for starters. Shapely but small. She breathed him in and wondered how his chest could look smooth and yet feel the opposite. He had light coloured hair there, lighter than on his head and it barely showed but her saliva from her kisses as dumb as it sounded she loved seeing that hang on to this hair there.

She felt his lips on her mouth then. She was so dazed, so wet just from this, that she didn't feel him take over contact. They were both moaning harshly and ..."No.."

She touched his penis. He told her not to.

"Would you come?" She questioned into his lips.

"Yes." It was harsh, rough and he could save someone's life. But he could lose control just over her. And that made her wonder. Just that, nothing more, it just made her wonder.

The possibilities too..What could she could do with him. She still wanted to be with another woman. For him. That one time, it was for HIM. She wanted it again. And she knew her teasing would torment him at times.

"Oh Michael." He lifted her up. When he did that, she wanted to tear off everyone 's clothes and tap their chests and declare the whole world primitive.

"Love you." She said it, just said it like it was breathing. It was so natural.

He snogged her in response, an animal kiss. He had one snaggle tooth that would always scrape her lip a little and this time she felt blood. She didn't want to tell him because he would fuss. Their relationship was funny.

When his lips felt hers, she couldn't help but look at him. He looked at her..strangely. He blushed. He must have tasted the blood from her lip/s. He placed her on the ground. Great.

He motioned to her with his hand, pointing. In a ragged breath he told her to stay there.

Where else could or would she go?

He walked away with his hard on. Wow. He could walk away naked and he looked perfect, just perfect.

Mel leaned her shoulder against the bannister. A fire. She felt like she could cause a fire with that heat in her. Her emotions, her sex, his pain, her love for him, all overwhelming her. She couldn't help but slump down.

"Hey." She looked up at Mike walking up to her.

"What's happening down there?" He smiled.

Just marry me already she thought. Clearing her throat, she couldn't voice what she showed him; she touched her pussy.

His eyes the hottest grey caressed her down there. The way he looked at her, not just now, always, it was going to kill her. Because it was out of this world and she couldn't take how hot he was.

He fondled her nipple of one of her boobs. The back of his hands rubbed against the brown bud and then he applied just the right pressure to it with his fingers.

"You're so good at that.

"I'm a breast man."

She quirked her eyebrow at him.

Her tits felt so full at his admission. But she already knew this. Just to hear him say that to her was fucking A. Yeah that's right, fucking A. A for awesome.

"So, want to suck them?"

"Yeah, baby I want to suck them." He continued to worry her nipple with his fingers. He must have seen how full both of her tits were, both nipples hard enough to cut glass, brown and red at the very point.

"Care to give me a lift?" She raised her arm up. He did.

"That was very sexy when you stroked your pussy Mel." They were face to face. How, she didn't know. She wanted to take his lips and almost did but he backed her more to the wall.

"Lift your arms up, baby." She did when he said that. "Such pretty, soft smooth arms Melanie." He ran his fingers over them.

"Thanks, Detective Sexy."

"Wha'd you call me?"

"You heard." She whispered out of arousal, actually.

"I'm calling you sexy. And I want your fingers stroking my arms, your arms making sure they stay above my head, holding me captive, whilst your hot lips caress the underside of my tits and then you take turns," she swallowed, "tongueing and wetly sucking each of my nipples."

Dear Media, is this a play?


a lady of 2010.

Main message, I have noticed you seem to give an awful lot of news space to women who have very thin limbs and very big breasts in comparison. I saw a picture of Christina Hendricks on the cover of a magazine entitled the New Yorker or New she New York itself or a New Yorker, is that why you have featured her? Because she doesn't fit into your claim of the return of the voluptuous. There are only two things voluptuous about her unless you are her husband/partner/lucky thang and know better.

And she is very pretty with her red hair but quite often you seem to forget about women who neither fit into the tanned category nor the white, white category. I thought New York was multi cultural?

Your white, white or black skin or "latina" !FEATURES! remind me of that funny and awful habit of patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time.

Oh excuse me, it's my conscience. Oh hello? Yes..yes.. It appears this voice inside of me is saying they would like to see Christina Hendricks wearing an inspired 2010 outfit of jeans and a tshirt, casual and sexy. Instead of her two twin mounds of pale love, waist looking awfully pained (Ms Hendricks, do you have a doctor on all sets just in case?)..and perhaps she could tell us about the people that contributed to her presence on Mad Men and have more than one dimension without the usual sex sells cliche that was cute at first in particular with the nature of her programme but rather like her holly golightley's sort of needs to be freed from their trap....oh silly voice! I believe you are implying women can be sexy on the inside..Blush! I just don't think the world is ready for that yet!

Typed from the keyboard of a computer.

p.s. I do believe it is not the sweat that attracts men to movie and television stars and the women labelled "goddesses" outside the screen buisness and in the world which is moving forward and backwards at the same time..1950/2010.. and then there's the business of empowerment. Ooh stop it! But sweetie muffins, I must go.

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

A woman is far more than her boobs.

It's really only certain people who place so much emphasis on them and it's vicious, if you say anything back you're told you're jealous. There was a time you could voice your opinion without that oh so uncreative response.

It's really all about the nipples. Sensitive, not so sensitive, know your woman's nipples and stop worrying about the lumps of fat on her chest. They come in different shapes and sizes, grow up and love it.

Monday, 15 February 2010

And to not change the subject but I have to comment on something I read

in the oh so tabloidy it's a cheap thrill Daily Mail,

Firstly that guy with Sharon Stone is hardly macho.

Secondly in response to the comment of most men wanting a cheap fake blonde tart. Probably true but are they worth it? No. Just be confident with yourself in and out of the bedroom and know the difference. Don't give a second thought to Nothings.