Monthly Archives: March 2006

Tickle My Fancy

This post was inspired by a television program I watched the other day. They featured a couple that were in to tickle torture. I thought about the concept and couldn’t quite understand how you could torture someone by tickling them. But if the girl in this picture offered then how could I refuse.

It seems like a strange way to torture someone, I know. But the more I thought about it the more credible it seemed, you can tickle someone until they submit with their stomach muscles feeling stretched and bruised with all the laughter. This form of torture doesn’t leave any marks either.

I tense up when tickled. It feels good but makes me attempt to resist the stimuli. If tickled too much I have been known to pee myself. Which is probably why I tense up in the first place in an attempt to avoid the embarrassment of wetting myself.

The word “tickle” evolved from the Middle English word tiken (to touch lightly). The actual sensation of being tickled is called gargalesthesia. There are many ticklish areas on the body, more commonly feet, armpits, neck, midriff and groin. However, it is not know why these areas are ticklish.

You are unable to tickle yourself, this is believed to be because you are aware exactly where you are going to be tickled before the event. As a result the stimuli doesn’t tickle. How strange is that? It is believed that effective tickling is derived from not knowing where the stimulation is going to occur.

Tickling can be a bonding activity between parent and child or part of play between children. Developing trust between the two, so should a situation arise in which the child is injured or near danger help can be given.

As a fetish tickling is one of the most common human acts, studies show that almost 85% of adults either enjoy being tickled or tickling. In the fetish sense, it can be administered by a dominant to a submissive using physical restraints. Much the same as with BDSM a safe word can be used to stop activity.

The tickle fetishist derives sexual pleasure from either tickling or being tickled. Tickling implements may be used to heighten the tickling sensation, these are usually composed of feathers. I checked out some of my favourite “Toy” sites but there doesn’t seem to be a great variety of tickling instruments out there. Maybe, I have a marketing possibility there, Suze’s tickly bits. LOL.

Here are some of my finds, not very inspired are they?

There are numerous web sites devoted to this very subject but most seem to be pay sites. I find it most strange that you can find sites devoted to all manner of sexual tendency but try looking for tickling or tit wanking and you seem to be entering the realms of “specialist”. LOL.

This site, The Tickling Media Forum is a good resource and some of the listed sites give free tours.

On the subject of tickling, we had a comedian called Ken Dodd who was very hot in the 70’s, he had a tickling stick and Diddymen and came from Notty Ash. Yes, Notty Ash is a real place in Liverpool. His catch phrase was “How tickled I am”. I know before you say it, he was probably ahead of his time, what with dwarfs and the tickling stick. There has to be a fetish there somewhere. I’ll have to look it up.

I found this picture of the man himself, I’ll let you go and explore the web for the Diddymen. But here’s the site of a rather eccentric fan of Mr Dodd

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Sex in the Afternoon

Much to my shame I’ve never read Ernest Hemingway’s “Death in the Afternoon”. Nor have I ever seen a bullfight. I have no wish to see the ritualised torture of animals. However, for reasons which I may go into at some other juncture I have always been fascinated by certain aspects of Spanish culture, including bullfighting and flamenco.

It is of course the sexuality woven into both which make me feel I ought to know more. Or rather I ought to feel more, be immersed in the visceral energy surrounding the dance of death and the dance of life and death. Experiences for another day perhaps.

And what brings you this little insight into the missing parts of my sensory and literary education? Well, we were taking a break this afternoon from creating the new Chinese Whispers section of the site, so naturally we ended up in bed. Sex in the afternoon, always a decadent pleasure. While the rest of the world washes its cars and puts up shelves, we immersed ourselves in carnal gratification.

What would normally have happened is a damn good fuck; First course foreplay, second hard and passionate banging, post-coital cuddles for dessert. It is always a dance. The two (or more 🙂 ) protagonists circle and cavort, the steps of the dance always different, ever changing. Action and reaction, the lunge and parry, the fall and recover, the challenge and the repost.

Maybe it was Suzanne’s current phallus fixation, or just the alignment of the planets, but either way she ended up giving me one of her legendary blowjobs. She has a technique that is beyond anyone else’s I have ever encountered.

I was already erect when her hand found its way to my groin and discovered my rigid cock. She grasped it with an eagerness that told me her soft lips would soon be embracing it. She threw back the covers and pounced on my unsuspecting member. OK so it wasn’t unsuspecting, but a little surprised at the suddenness and intensity of the oral assault.

You know it’s going to feel good when a woman makes you gasp with her ministrations. This afternoon I felt my head spinning almost immediately with the intensity of the sensations she provided. One hand grasped my balls while her mouth and the other hand took turns to engulf my cock.

The firmness of her dexterous fingers, counterpointed by the soft, warm, comforting, almost womb-like quality of her mouth. Yet no womb has an athletic, insistent tongue, or mischievous teeth, raking at the skin of my penis.

The slight straining of the hand incarcerating my balls kept reminding me of the guilty pleasure which I am now deriving from this acute discomfort. Over the last few weeks I have come to realise that this subtle but powerful form of bondage is intensely arousing for me.

My hands roamed her body, one settling quickly on her pussy. Her slit was moist, the clitoris must have been glittering with her juices. I could not see this, having been manoeuvred into a kneeling position to allow Suze, laying on her side, to grasp my scrotum and attend to my now throbbing cock.

As I approached the inevitable sweet conclusion I felt her body convulse. The orgasm gripped her, back arching, pussy dripping. Only then was her attention distracted, her mouth’s grip on my cock broken for her to emit a sensuous, intensely arousing “Aaaaah!”.

This was too much for me. The warm wetness surrounding my hand as her thighs clamped around it and the look of ecstasy on her face as her eyes rolled into the back of her head began my swift progress to an unstoppable climax.

I came with her hand clasped around my cock, milking me dry. My head bent forward as I let out a low growl through gritted teeth. Blue-white sparks shot up my spine combining into a orgasmic halo around my head and I had to stifle the urge to howl. Bloody neighbours.

Afterwards, laying in each other’s arms we both realised that we couldn’t remember the last time we’d both cum together except during penetrative sex. Often we’ll give each other pleasure, orally and/or manually, and take delight in seeing the other’s orgasm, but this was a special and long-forgotten pleasure.

Note to self:Read This

The New Age of Media For The People By The People


I was reading an article today about how online DVD rental is impacting on the Blockbuster chain of rental stores. Since January last year Blockbuster’s share price has fallen from $10 to $4. A catastrophe for any company and a huge blow for one, which until only a few years ago, was the colossus which stood astride the video/DVD rental business in the US and UK.

The article’s quite interesting so read it if you wish, but the main point is this. The way we view and consume the mass media is changing. Some movie studios are considering the release of titles on DVD at the same time as at the multiplexes. 3G phones are allowing anyone to buy and exchange images, sound and movie clips. Blogs can turn anyone into a journalist or author.

Adult blogs are letting us all express our sexuality to others and let anyone see and comment back.

So what now for the commercial porn sites?

OK, so there are going to be certain things that most bloggers will not do. Some things they can not or will not publish on their blog.

Yes I know there are commercial sites that claim to be personal blogs, but they don’t count. I’m talking about blogs by real people. The very fact that there is a real person at a keyboard somewhere means that for many, blogs have a draw which can never be achieved by the endless thumbnail gallery sites offering barely legal teens photographed with varying degrees of professionalism.

Even sites purporting to show “amateurs” can never compete with an HNT. Despite being available to anyone with a browser the intimacy of a real blog can not be manufactured.

And what about “erotic” stories? The free stories available from commercial sites are on the whole titillation verging on porn not erotica.

Looking forward my first prediction is this.

Commercial porn sites will survive

The money they generate will ensure that there is always a market for purveyors offering something perceived to be elicit. My worry is that many of them will go underground to avoid regulation and provide the sort of depraved filth that all right-minded people deplore. It had never occurred to me before (as I have never sought out such nauseating content) that peer-to-peer networks could provide such feeds. Thanks to Anastasia for that disquieting notion.

And here’s my second prediction

Blogs will become the primary source of erotic sexual interaction for all but a minority of the online population. One reason for this I have already stated, it’s “real”, the other is this. Porn is not erotica, it is porn. Blogs can provide both and every shade of sexual stimulation in between. Porn has it’s place, but it should not try to steal erotica’s clothes in an attempt to inveigle its way into new markets.

How can we do this when we are “amateurs”. Because we are amateur and we write for us, not for the advertisers, not for the subscribers and most importantly of all not for the bottom line.

Vive la Blog Érotique
Vive le différence

Footnote 1: Last night it became known that a lovely lady by the name of “Samantha192” had been yoinking posts from various Bloggers. You can read about it here and here. This is an illustration of one of the benefits of being a blog community, we watch each other’s backs. Yes it’s easy to cut and paste us into your blog without attribution, if your lack of conscience let’s you, but you’ll be found out.

Don’t Tell Your Parents

When I was about 10 years old we lived next door to a family that we all got along with. They had a son of my own age and his younger brother. I think he was about 5 at the time. I used to spend hours of my time in the company of the older boy, who I’ll call Mike for the purpose of this story.

He was a tall thin, rather athletic blonde guy. Not typically my type, if I had one at that early stage of my life. I seem to remember he irritated the hell out of me with his keen interest in football. It seemed that I came second to the “beautiful game”. Even at that tender age it’s annoying when you want to kiss and cuddle and the guy just wants to watch football on television.

I was a little like a footballer’s wife. LOL. It got to the point where I even played football with the lads just so that I could see more of him. Ah, I hear you say. I remember being quite randy even at that age. Although we did no more than let each other have a look and the odd grope.

He had a keen interest in my pussy but I wanted him to play with my immature buds. Although small with inverted nipples my tiny breasts liked attention. We spent many a summer’s day investigating one another but although sexual in nature these events were very innocent. If that isn’t an oxymoron. Perhaps due to the lack of knowledge and understanding of my own sexuality.

I recall I used to have periods of feeling randy but not quite able to do much about it. Yes, I knew the ultimate pleasure was to have a hard cock inside me. I’d had the talk and there was no mention of birds and bees or trains and tunnels. Mine was complete with full anatomical terminology. So, no room for confusion.

Anyway back to the story. Our parents would go out together at the weekend and leave us some money to buy our tea from, you guessed it, the chip shop. Being kids we more often than not didn’t visit the chip shop at all. All of us possessed a sweet tooth. So we would go to the local store and spend all our money on sweets, cakes and anything that took our eye.

In actual fact this was a good math lesson for us, as we picked up the tasty treats we would work out how much we had left to put towards the next goodie. It’s strange we would do this nearly every week but the local shop keeper never spilled the beans about our unhealthy purchases. Maybe he had shares in the local dentist’s practice. LOL.

We would get back just before the minder arrived and hide our stash. The minder who I will refer to as Penny was always late showing up. She was a little bossy but we didn’t get to see much of her (you’ll find out way later. Don’t be so impatient. 🙂 ) so we didn’t mind. As kids by comparison to today’s youngsters we were pretty well behaved and quite mature in attitude.

Penny made herself a coffee, then came the predictable knock on the door. She opened the door to see her latest screw stood on the doorstep. This particular “guest” stood out, for once he wasn’t rough looking. Most of the guys she courted were quite frankly, minging. This one was tall with brown hair and as I recall nice smiling eyes. She invited him in for a coffee. I can hear you all saying “Yeh, like that’s all he’ll be getting”. Well, you’re right.

No sooner had he got the coffee mug in his hands than Penny was saying “You will be alright If we just go upstairs for a bit?” We were familiar with the routine by now. She would disappear upstairs for most of the evening. Occasional strange sounds making there way downstairs. We didn’t care, it gave us the privacy to eat our “tea” without the risk of discovery.

Unbeknown to us, Penny was renowned for being the local bike. If you are not familiar with this terminology, it means she let anyone ride her. It’s kind of strange how you find things out in later life. I also nearly dropped myself right in it once. I had never met any of Penny’s family but at a party talked at length to her younger sister. I didn’t know at the time, I was just about to say, “yes, I do know her, she’s a right bike”, when a friend pointed out rather hastily that this was her sister Mary. Phew, how close was that?

On this particular Friday, I don’t know why, I decided to creep upstairs and take a look at what they were up to. Probably because for once she had asked a good looking guy round. Whatever the reason, I just wanted to be a voyeur. No, not quite a voyeur, I was curious as to what they were doing although I suspected it may involve sex.

Carefully I climbed the stairs, I knew where all the creaky ones were and avoided them. Both Mike and his brother were occupied eating the rest of our goodies. As I approached the landing I noticed they hadn’t quite closed the door to. I put my eye to the crack in the door and began to scan the room. It was quite gloomy, with just a table lamp for illumination in the corner on a bedside table.

There was enough light to make out the bed, which fortunately was clearly visible through the crack, I just needed a more panoramic view. I gently pushed the door opening the crack just enough to have an unobstructed view. My breath became quite fast and deep with the excitement of what greeted my eyes on the other side of the door. He was kneeling naked except for his t-shirt on the bed and she was laying with her back towards the door completely naked. Her head was moving backwards and forwards in front of his groin. The penny (get it Penny. LOL) then dropped, she was sucking his cock.

Penny was not an unattractive girl, not stunning but about 5′ 6″ and curvaceous with a rather ample bosom. It must have been an arousing image for me, I stood there and felt warm and excited but naughty at the same time. Which probably heightened the whole experience for me. Penny was bobbing her head up and down on his cock, accompanied by his groans and her deep throated hmm’s.

This was my first voyeuristic experience, I knew it was wrong but I liked it. I stood in perfect silence except for my breathing, which I tried hard to control. It was very difficult because I was obviously getting extremely turned on by this sexual act. I had never seen a woman sucking a guy’s cock before. I had yet to discover pornographic mags.

The guy said something to Penny, I couldn’t tell exactly what because Mike and his brother were making too much noise. Then she manoeuvred herself on to all fours, with her ass pointing towards him. I watched as he pushed his big fat hairy cock (he had a thick bush of brown pubes around the base of his cock. I had never seen a hairy one before.) in to Penny’s pussy. She let out a loud moan followed by “Yes”.

He began to slap up against her ass with each stroke and I thought I was going to burst as my heart nearly beat out of my chest. To say I was really getting turned on was an understatement. Just as things were beginning to hot up I nearly got caught in the act too. Mike appeared at the bottom of the stairs and I just managed to catch his attention before he shouted after me.

I reluctantly made my way downstairs and he enquired, “what have you been doing?” Do I tell him or not? What would you have done?

Late Copy – Chindogu and Kenji Kawakami

I must be on a roll tonight. I was searching the web for something unrelated and this book cover came up. I was intrigued by the cat in the top right that appears to be wearing slippers. Investigating further and discovered that they are not slippers, see here for an explanation of Kenji Kawakami ‘s book including the cat picture . Not at all adult, but once again it tickled me.

Further Chindogu related resources for the scholars amongst you.

Wey Hey It’s St Patrick’s Day!

For everyone out there, like me who doesn’t know the history of St Patrick’s Day, here is a potted version.

Maewyn, the man who was to become St Patrick was born in Wales about AD 386. He nearly didn’t get the position of Bishop of Ireland because he had not attained the required scholarship.

Up until the tender age of 16 he thought of himself as a pagan. He was sold into slavery by a group of Irish marauders who raided his village. It was during this time in captivity he became closer to God.

After six years of being enslaved he escaped to Gaul. He studied in the monastery there under St Germain the Bishop of Auxerre for 12 years. It was during this time he realised that his calling was to convert Pagans to Christianity.

He adopted the Christian name Patrick and was appointed as second Bishop to Ireland. Patrick was successful at converting people and upset the Celtic Druids. He was arrested on several occasions and managed to escape each time.

His travels throughout Ireland established monasteries, schools and churches across the country. Aiding his conversion of the Irish country to the Christian faith. His mission lasted thirty years. He retired in County Down and died on March 17 in AD 493. Hence St Patrick’s Day to commemorate him.

Folklore has it that he could raise people from the dead. It was also said that he gave a sermon from the top of a hill which drove all the snakes from Ireland. Originally a Catholic holy day it has now become a secular holiday.

The traditional icon of this day is the shamrock. This is said to have come from St Patrick explaining the Trinity using the three leafed shamrock. Representing how the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit could exist as separate elements of the same entity. His faithfull followers adopted the wearing of the shamrock on his commemoration day.

The day is celebrated wearing green, parading and of course drinking lots of beer. The largest parades recently have taken place in Dublin, New York City, Manchester, Montreal and Boston. The smallest parade is said to take place at Hot Springs, Arkansas in the US this parade is allegedly less than a single city block. Right, there’s the science bit, I hope it proved interesting.

You didn’t think I would leave this article at that, did you?

I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about Irish beauties and immediately I thought of the Corrs. A whole bunch of talented and beautiful women, I know, I know, there is one guy in the group. But I don’t fancy him. Poor Jim who does the keyboards, guitar and vocals does nothing for me. His sisters on the other hand are HOT.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about here is a picture of the girls I yoinked it from The Corrs Website. Go over there and ogle to your delight.

In order of line up, we have Andrea (yum), Sharon (yum, yum) and Caroline (lickety, lick). Now you all know where I’m coming from and I bet some of you guys and lets not forget the girls, will agree they are 1st class wanking/friging material. I have had many nocturnal encounters with these ladies, Sharon is very good with her tongue :p

Sticking with the theme. I attempted to try and find Irish porn stars on net. My search only turned up one girl. Her name is Tiffany Walker and she seems quite cute. What do you think?


And finally, look what I just found.

An Irish I Rabbit, he he.

Thank Fuck It’s Friday

Hands up if you have a sex related injury. Can you see me, waving my hands high in the air? LOL. Or rather, not laughing, cause it hurts like crazy.

Do you wish to know the full story in all its dirty detail? Or would you prefer the abridged version? Choices, choices. Ok, go on then I’ll give you the full blown version.

Alex had a shity week at work last week. Understaffing and demanding fuckers all contributing to him feeling a little less than happy by Friday evening. Anyway, you don’t want to hear about all that crap.

So we ate dinner together and then settled for a quiet night in on the sofa in front of the television. Alex was very tired and I didn’t expect that we would be engaging in any sex. Which doesn’t make my evening but I know how being tired can affect your libido. So, as I said I really didn’t expect fireworks.

I lay with my head in his lap and my hand on his thigh. Alex had his arm around my shoulder, cupping my left breast with his hand. This is really comforting, I love the warm secure feeling of his hand firmly embracing my breast. He absently gave my nipple the odd tweak through my t-shirt (Oh, dear had I forgotten to put my bra on naughty me).

It must be an automatic reaction but I always find my hand gravitating to Alex’s groin. I gently rubbed the firm denim seam of his jeans against his cock. He obviously liked this because he wriggled slightly to adjust his position within his trousers. The film was boring and I couldn’t help myself. I began to rub him with an even firmer hand. Pushing my palm flat across his stiffening member.

Alex pinched my nipple a little too keenly and I let out an “ouch” to that effect. He apologised and loosened his grip slightly. My nipples were so stiff that they began to ache and pulse. The girls will know exactly how this feels. I could feel my labia swelling within my panties and without even thinking, I pushed my things tighter together and began to roll my hips. This stimulates my clit and if you get the movement just right can bring you to orgasm.

My hand began to trace Alex’s hardness through his jeans, along the length of his erection down to the tip. No disputing that he dresses to the left. He seemed to be throbbing within the constraints of the denim. His cock was almost knocking on his flies demanding release.

I think Alex was trying to play it cool because he felt so tired and pissed off. But his breathing betrayed his active mind. He wanted to fuck me just as much as I did him. He shuffled over to his left a little and extended his hand downwards, over my tummy, over the top of my mons and up under the hem of my skirt. I eagerly parted my legs and the cool air sensitised my pussy. I could now feel just how damp my panties were.

Alex was breathing heavily in my right ear as he reached up between my legs and pushed the gusset aside. He began to rub his fingers around my swollen clit. That felt so good and I released a moan of approval. “Your wonderfully wet. Do you want to fuck”? Did he need to ask? I’m always ready to fuck.

I nodded and sat up to await instruction. Alex grabbed my arm and pushed me towards the floor. Kneeling in front of him I could see just how hard he had now become. I reached up and pulled his zipper down. It would have been quite funny had I not been so horny but his cock actually popped out. Almost as eager to get inside my hot pussy as I was to receive him. You know, I could swear his cock was almost smiling at me.

Alex pulled off his trousers and threw them across the room. He turned me around and pushed me forwards. I slumped over the sofa like a rag doll and I could feel his eager hands pulling my legs apart. He nuzzled in behind me and his hot breath hit my neck as he sucked hungrily at my neck. Gentle bites and flicks of the tongue were assailed on my neck. Goose bumps rose from the flesh on my arms and a shiver hit my spine. The combination of warm wet kisses and teeth nibbling flesh turns me to jelly. It feels both tender and sexual at the same time.

I reached in front of me and pulled a cushion under my head. Alex ran his hand up my wet slit, distributing my juices evenly, ready for entry. He then ran his hard cock up the crack of my arse giving himself a dry rub. Then thwack, he hit me across the right ass cheek with that hard prick of his. I laughed and just at that moment he pulled my panties aside and pushed firmly between my pussy lips, in to my hot cunt. Forcefully but carefully he thrust inside me, taking me quite literally by surprise and I let out a gasp to confirm this.

“You want fucking hard? Do you want me to grind your hot pussy? Alex asked. No demanded. He wanted to take me hard and no matter what I said that’s how he wanted me. Fortunately I was in the mood to be treated roughly. Taken if you will.

His hips began bashing in to my ass cheeks as he fucked me as deep as he could. I tilted my pelvis upwards, raising my ass to meet his purposeful thrusts. He seemed to be hitting my cervix with each motion and bore down on him like a hungry whore. My pussy was beginning to tingle either from the intense orgasm building or the battering it was receiving. Either way I didn’t care as I reached my first orgasm.

Knowing that the neighbours were in I took a bite at the cushion to stifle my vocal orgasm. As the orgasm took me over my internal muscles spasmed and pulsed, then came the warm sensation of my cum coating Alex’s shaft. Alex was grunting behind me in the way that men do and I knew he was close. It seemed that I had only just cum, when I could feel my muscles tensing for another orgasm.

The intensity of Alex fucking and me bucking increased as we began to climb the path to orgasm. That’s when it happened. I got a shooting pain in my left knee. It quickly subsided and we carried on screwing. With one almighty back climbing push Alex came in perfect synchronicity with my orgasm.

He collapsed over my back and I lay sprawled on the cushion with my cheek on the damp patch. I suddenly became aware just how damp it was. Does anyone else out there drool when they are being banged from behind?

We caught our breath and then began to get up from the floor. I was then prompted that my left knee was not as it should be. It was terribly painful and I couldn’t put any weight on it. I clambered on to the sofa and spent the rest of the evening rubbing it. Why do we rub things to take away the pain, this does no good at all for internal injuries.

Today it feels like my cartilage is displaced and if I press the inside edger of knee cap it hurts. I know what you are all saying, “well don’t press it then”. That’s another thing we do, press things which we already know are tender. So I’m going to be taking it easy over the next couple of days. I can’t have my knee out of action. Doggy style is my favourite position.

BTW, I also made a hole in the cushion I had between my teeth last night. Lucky I bought a spare cover.

Urophilia (Golden Years – Part 2)

Writing the previous piece about J made me want to look deeper in to the practice of Urophilia or Urolagnia as it is known. Urophilia is more commonly known as “Watersports” or “Golden Showers”. Not to be confused with Urophagia, which is the act of drinking urine.

Urophilia is one of a group of Paraphilias, which translates from the Greek ouron, urine and philia. Other paraphilias include Voyeurism and Exhibitionism to name two. This is not to be confused with Urolagnia, which is the practice of drinking urine.

Paraphilias are sexual dysfunctions or behaviours and by their very nature are obsessive/compulsive behaviours. They have a specific focus usually resulting in sexual arousal. This is best described by comparing the guy who walks past a house where a woman is undressing near the window. He will perhaps stop and stare (well, I certainly would) and then move on but the voyeur will obsess about the peeping and go out of his way to do so, exhibiting this compulsive behaviour. I hope that clarifies things for you without getting too heavy. Wake up at the back.

There are hundreds of paraphilias and I read that the number of men exceed women in paraphilic tendencies. Whilst categorising these behaviours as paraphilic and perhaps lending a hint of kinkiness to them, I will point out that Scatophilia is talking dirty on the phone. Most of us have taken part in that paraphilia at some point in our lives. So, don’t go all smug on me.

Urophilia is apparently very well practiced in North America and is just as popular in Europe where most of the content is produced. Practices range from, peeing on each other’s bodies to peeing inside someone’s ass or pussy.

Less extreme is peeing in your pants, this can be an exciting experience to observe. Watching your partner’s crotch become darker with the moisture and seeing it drip from their panties or pants. Alex and I once took turns at this standing in the bath. I must confess I didn’t think that I would particularly get off on watching someone pee their pants. But I did.

He wore his clingy lycra boxers and I watched in anticipation as they developed a dark patch, which grew in size before my eyes. Then eventually the stream could not be contained anymore, it ran twisting, meandering down his inner thigh. Many may not admit to doing so but hands up who has peed in the shower. I for one am guilty of it and will admit that it feels good, the tingling sensation as you let go and then the comforting warmth as the stream runs downwards. Uhm, am I being too honest here?

Urophilia can become part of bonding, sharing an intimate experience with each other. Also instilling trust in your partner. Or used in dominant/submissive games, using urination to humiliate or make your partner feel helpless.

As for this fetish, it doesn’t require any special toys or batteries and it is readily available. The dilution level can be controlled by drinking more or less water. Even the taste can be manipulated by eating or drinking certain foods. For example artificial sweetener is expelled in urine making it taste sweeter. So are some vitamins so be careful if you are already taking vitamin supplements.

It is a myth that urine is unclean. Providing that the urinator has no STD’s it is almost sterile when emitted and does not contain toxins. It may surprise some of you to discover that far from being dirty, during wartime it was used as a disinfectant for wounds.

So, what’s in it? Urine is made up mostly of water, soluble minerals:

  • Salt
  • Magnesium
  • Calcium
  • Potassium
  • Phosphates
  • Nitrogenous material (Urea)
  • Creatine (gives colour and odour)
  • Uric Acid
  • Ammonia

None of the above naturally secreted substances are toxic or harmful in any way, except in high doses.

I must be honest and say that I’m not in to peeing on people or being peed on but I can well understand that others would be turned on by this. I am after all a very sexual woman and make no judgement call on other people’s sexuality or practices.

If you do indulge in this practice do make sure you apply the same precautions as for unprotected sex, STD’s can be transmitted via urine. If you don’t know the sexual history of your partner, don’t be temped to try it.

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Golden Years

I was thinking back to my childhood the other day and I remembered an acquaintance with a particular kink. You may think, “so what I know lots of people with unusual sexual preferences”. This friend (lets call him J on this occasion) displayed his kink at a very early age. He was a year younger than me and I think I would have been about 9 or 10 at the time.

J was by no means unusual in his every day life. He was the youngest of 3 children, having two older sisters. His parents were a hardworking middle aged couple with their own business. I hung around with middle sister (lets call her B) for several years, as she was the same age as myself.

I don’t think B knew of her brother’s predilection towards this particular kink. I’m sure she would have discussed it with me had she know about it. J’s kink only manifested itself when he was out of sight and earshot of his sisters. I once had him approach me to do it whilst in his home.

Even at that early age, although I didn’t quite understand the kinky and covertly sexual world I was to grow up in, I knew that J’s naughty secret was not something that I wanted to participate in. Don’t get me wrong I’m by no means a prude and wasn’t back then either, it’s just the whole thing didn’t really interest me.

J was a very likeable boy and I know some of the girls did succumb to his request. They told me about it after. Which is probably why J would spend so much time trying to encourage me to fulfil his dream, I was probably one of the few girls who said no.

I’ve got you all wondering what I am alluding to now haven’t I. I bet some of your kinky little minds have already found an answer. Just what do you think his particular kink was? Some of you are going to be miles off the mark. Ok, I can hear you shouting to know now. He…liked to be pissed on. There you have it.

This young good looking brown haired, brown eyed boy liked girls to squat over him and pee. He would apparently lie down on the floor and have the girl’s squat over his chest and face and urinate on him. I think the main reason I didn’t want to do this was because I thought I might get in to a bit of a mess. Wet legs and shoes etc.

J if you are out there reading this, I am not taking the moral high ground on this practice at all. In fact there have been occasions when I am being fucked hard by Alex that I have wanted to pee. Don’t ask me why, I just have. Maybe it’s because I want to be as “dirty” as I can. I’m not sure.

What I really need to know is, does this kind of kinky desire manifest itself at such an early age? Or does it develop with our sexuality and experiences over the years? Do our parents take some kind of responsibility for this predisposition? Did J catch his parents doing this at some point in his early years?

How Much?

Regulars readers are by now aware that I possess a very, no VERY high sex drive. I just can’t stop myself from jumping on Alex’s cock at any given opportunity. I love to feel it, kiss it, lick it, even smell it (no, not in a cheesy way before you ask. It’s those pheromones hitting my nasal passages) but most of all to ride it.

To me this is instinctive behaviour and seems perfectly normal. It sometime results in Alex walking around like a zombie at work the next day. I say do it while you can, while you’re still young and able to get in to all those positions. Before your body can’t quite lend itself to all your favourite positions. OK, I’m stopping right there before I depress myself.

What I really want to put to you is this, “what do you personally, consider a normal amount of daily sexual activity”? I need this as a bench mark guys, to level myself. For me 2 or 3 times a day is normal. More if possible, but Alex does have to go to work unfortunately. LOL. Check this link, I’m doing my bit for the UK equalling the totals for the countries France to Bulgaria.

I was prompted to consider my daily sexual encounter count (that was a mouthful wasn’t it? See there I go again) whilst reading “Worth The Wait” I commented there and raised the question, “Am I a nympho”? What constitutes a nymphomaniac, where do you cross the boundaries of normal and acceptable copulation and err towards the obsessive? Would you recognise this over zealous behaviour in yourself or would a kind friend have to put you straight? Who decides how many times you should copulate daily?

Yes, I know there are often restrictions within the home and workplace that make it almost impossible to have sex when desired. Therefore, the figures could be slightly skewed by these mundane commitments.

But, if you could put the restrictions and trappings of daily life behind you and not be bound by any shackles. How many times would feel right for you? Does the desire to have sex frequently arise from an addiction? You know like eating chocolate. The more you eat the more you desire only you don’t feel sick when you over indulge in sexual activity. At least I hope not.

I heard that men are only given a bucket of sperm to last them throughout a lifetime. In that case Alex’s bucket must be about ready for a refill. LOL.

DIY Superstore Vs Sex Superstore

Being at home all day has led to me looking more closely at things which I would normally not pay too much attention to. I suppose I really have far too much time on my hands these days with no job at present.

This has resulted in me considering redecorating certain rooms in the house. In particular our bedroom. Like sex I don’t want it to become stale and boring so I have been checking out new colour schemes and décor ideas. It’s now time to execute some of the best ones whilst I have the free time to do so.

So as the weekend came around I decided to mention this to Alex. The conversation went something like this. “Darling”. “Yes”, Alex replied. “I have decided to redecorate our bedroom” I sheepishly added. “Oh, have you now?” he offered with a rather reserved tone. This brought about a discussion of possible colours for the early part of Friday evening, then a visit to the bedroom for further study. Yes, you guessed it and a good fucking to finish off the whole project. I have marvellous powers of persuasion. So I am told. Perhaps I could put them to good use when I start job hunting again. Hehe.

I’m not sure if the UK has the monopoly on this, do people in other continents of the world spend their weekends wandering around DIY stores? Or, is this purely an English activity? You can always be sure that these stores will be overwhelmed with DIYers both enthusiastic or under duress. Their partner perhaps threatening the withdrawal of conjugal rights if they don’t do something about the state of the house.
Anyway, I’m drifting off-topic. Whilst walking around it struck me just how much of a similarity there is between the DIY Superstore and the Sex Superstore products. So here it is, without further ado, my take on the subject.

Our top item here is “Hands-free, pedal operated, quick action clamping. Large working area with MDF jaws. Front jaw adjustments. Rear jaw quick clamping release adjustment. Integrated tool rack, 4 jaws for clamping flat workpieces and 4 for round. “. All for £74.99.

Which I think beats “The STRAP TABLE is a pleasure for any bottom or Top. Custom options can make it even more versatile“. For $895 from Though the Strap table is padded and larger so you’re less likely to fall off.

This is described as “a cordless, hand-held screwdriver which is perfect for working in confined spaces“. Now let me think. Would this be good for use in the car or at my desk (under my desk).I’m not sure what the running time on this device is but it takes 1 hour & forty five minutes to recharge. That would definitely be a set back. Flat battery=no masturbation, unlike it’s sex store equivalent …

A quiet and powerful finger vibe with three sensational sleeves to get your pulse racing. The tickling octopus-style attachment is our fave (for all the right reasons!), but the others are fab too!“. It’s available from Love Honey.

I’m not sure that this fibre washer would sit comfortably around a hard cock. It could cut off the water supply or more. LOL.

This looks far more interesting :). “All hail the first cock tambourine! Kind of. Up to 14 fully rotatable stainless steel ball bearing add a frisson of excitement to this sturdy plastic cock ring. With a choice of 35mm and 45mm rings, you’re guaranteed manoeuvrability, whatever the length and girth of your shaft. Twist, turn, rub in up and down, the pleasure permutations are endless!”. For more information on this intriguing looking toy click here.

This certainly wouldn’t taste very good and would crack off when you moved. Resulting in huge pieces being shed like dandruff on to the carpet as you moved around.

I have just been reminded of a girl I used to work with. This poor girl had very dry skin.Before you say it, I know it can be awfully uncomfortable. When she had visited the toilet she left dandruff. She actually had fanny dandruff, which could be blown from the seat.I’m on a bit of a roll now.

I also used to work with a woman who kept a pair of tweezers on top of the toilet system at home. When asked why she did this, her reply was that she hated having grey pubes. She used to sit on the toilet and pluck them out.Right, where were we?

As for the body paint “Your body covered in warm chocolate and being licked from tip to toe...”. Sounds good to me. All aspiring body decorators click here.

This is a lubricant for laying pipe, how appropriate. Though Alex isn’t keen on the idea of using it on his pipe I like the possibility of pushing your vibe in the pot and coating it in one easy go. Dip and play, no accuracy required. Can even be done in the dark and underground apparently.

However this might be more appropriate, “Astroglide super-slippery … enhancing intimate activity – sex! The condom-safe water-based and water-soluble formula is whisper-light, too.”.

Loving the press stud front on this boilersuit for quick and easy release. It’s also described as being durable. I hope they mean around the crotch. With the added bonus that it is easily washable.That’s a good thing.

I don’t know how many times Alex has slipped me one through the front of his trousers and later discovered the tell tale cum patch on his groin. Good job cum can be picked off with a finger nail in emergencies.

I really am so tempted by this too, “He’ll want to be in pole position when he sees you in this ultra-sexy Charlies Angels-style Racer jumpsuit.”

Now at first glance these seem impossible to walk on, I’ll give you that. But if you look closer, they have a larger footprint on the floor than the porn shoes and a cunning cantilever mechanism.

No wobbly stiletto heels to contend with plus the added bonus of height adjustment. This provides good alignment of sexual organs no matter how tall your man. But remember to take them off in bed, unlike the porn shoes which usually stay on.

Not quite sure why. If they fell off the girl’s feet which are usually waving about in mid air, someone can easily become concussed. We’ve seen it happen in a porn movie!

Can you imagine the doctor at the hospital asking, “And just before he was rendered unconscious what was he doing”?

However I think I’ll stick to these, “Outrageous black platform slip-on shoes with 6.5-inch heel by Tony’s of Hollywood.

Ok, I know this is a far cry from anal beads. Allow me this one, every time I see a plug I just can’t help but chuckle to myself.I suppose it could be useful if your partner is flatulent. If deployed for such a purpose, make sure that the other end is attached to their underwear.

A teasing string of 10 graduated anal beads with a safety handle at the end“. thank heaven for safety handles.

All our DIY items are from the aptly named :).

In Car Entertainment

In my younger years most of my “courting” (as they called it in England) had to take place in the car. It was the only safe retreat for you and your partner to get a little hot under the collar. When parents were around holding hands and a quick kiss was the limit, there was no hanky panky.

If you were fortunate to have fairly liberal minded parents your guy may get to stay overnight. Not in your bedroom though, he was usually relegated to sleeping on the uncomfortable sofa downstairs with a duvet for company.

I had a couple of guys sleep over during my younger years. Trying to get down the stairs to meet up with them in the middle of the night was impossible. Did parent’s tamper with the stair treads to make them squeak? I actually tried to map the safe ones in my head but when I tried to execute my plan “squeak” went the tread. I would then have to retreat in case one of my parents was sleeping with one eye open.

When I became old enough to go out drinking I would often consume a little too much alcohol. I would creep quietly (at least I thought so in my drunken state) up the stairs and climb in to bed. Shortly after lying down it would start. The bed would become a spinning fairground ride, getting faster and faster. Until, you guessed it, I needed to throw up. It’s no fun trying to throw up quietly. Come to think of it, it’s no fun throwing up at all. Trying to creep in to bed afterwards was a nightmare. I swear every floorboard on the upper floor creaked.

So, in order to get a little privacy it was best to take a ride in his car (If your boyfriend could afford to buy one or borrow one) to a secluded spot. More often than not this resulted in a trip in to the countryside. Usually a car park. Some were quite famous for being used as a lover’s retreats.

On one such cold winter evening both me and Mr X drove out to a well know country car park and pulled up at the far end. There were a couple of cars already in parked up with their steamed up windows, we drove past them. This particular evening was so cold that we needed to snuggle under a warm blanket Mr X had been thoughtful enough to bring with him.

We both pushed our seats back as far as they would go and reclined the backs slightly, to make more room for manoeuvre. Things started off quite slowly with him leaning in to kiss me. Then we picked up tempo and started to unbutton each other. Mr X’s cock was a little restricted or at least that’s what he said as he pulled it free from his flies.

I wasn’t going to complain as I leaned over the handbrake to take him in my mouth. Fornicating in that car was so uncomfortable, something was always digging in to you (no I’m not talking about cock). You also had to be very supple to get in to some of the positions required to promote your love life. I’m not sure how I’d fair now.

We slipped out of our lower clothing, me just in a jumper and him in a sweatshirt. I climbed over the handbrake and straggled his legs, kneeling on either side of them. Mr X pulled the blanket around the both of us and we bravely removed our tops. Then we began to kiss deeply. I recall my hard nipples pressing in to his naked chest.

He pushed a couple of fingers inside me to prepare me for his cock. Yes, we didn’t hang around in those days, it was too cold. I reached between my legs and took hold of his erection (he was very ample). I’ve always been lucky like that. 😉

He finger fucked me whilst pushing his tongue deep in to my mouth and I wanked his cock for all it was worth. When he was hard as a rock I raised myself up and turned around. The easiest way to fuck was with me sitting looking out the windscreen, my feet in the footwell and hands on the wheel to aid my “cock bobbing”. He slid inside me and I did my usual slow grind with my pussy. Then I began to bounce down on his groin no longer able to contain my lust. It was a very squeaky car and with each motion the car groaned.

It got quite hot in there and after a while the windows would fully steam up. Which was good from a privacy point of view. Although no doubt the rest of the “lovers” could hear every moan. I continued to bounce up and down on his lap. The car was rocking in time and I was moaning quite loudly as he began to thrust upward giving me even more of his length.

It was at that moment that I thought I heard a tap. Yes, there it was again. Someone was tapping on the driver’s side window. Embarrassment enraptured both of us. What the fuck should we do? We had been caught in the act stark bollock naked, in a countryside car park after midnight. Was this the police? Oh shit?

Mr X wound down his window (yes, he didn’t have the electric windows back then). “Sorry to trouble you. Could you give us a push? We are stuck in some mud”. Came the guy’s voice. Both Mr X and myself let out a loud sigh of relief. I had all sorts of visions going through my mind. It’s amazing what you can cook up in just a few moments. We had been exposed (rather good choice of words I thought) by the local press for having sex in the countryside and my parents had totally disowned me.

We both laughed with relief, Mr X replied, “Just give us a moment and we’ll be over”. That was the last time we ever visited that particular lovers haunt. I don’t know why, the chance of that ever happening again was almost impossible. Wasn’t it?