Monthly Archives: June 2007

If It Doesn’t hurt …

There’s a difference between knowledge and wisdom. An obvious thing to say, but something that I’ve been reminded of this week. I suppose it’s a train of thought that’s been initiated by the events in Yorkshire, Humberside and Lincolnshire. If you haven’t had it reported on the news in your country you should check out the BBC Website. Suze and I got our feet wet a little but we haven’t suffered the hardship that others have suffered.

While I can empathise with those worst affected, having been somewhat inconvenienced myself, I know I cannot truly understand how badly they have been traumatised. Indeed how much the disruption is still affecting them (some are apparently still without power and many are prevented from returning to their homes due to existing floods or the threat of the dam bursting.

Hopefully the meteorologist’s prediction of another 50mm of rain at the weekend will be inaccurate and those affected can begin to recover from the disaster.

So there it is, in a nutshell. I can read about something, see it on TV, talk to someone with first hand knowledge of the thing. But unless I have been through it I can’t truly understand the emotions that accompany the experience.

It’s like love, no Love, the one with the capital L’. Funny but in English we only have one word for love. Oh yes, you can embellish it with qualifications and caveats but you have to use the same word for loving your siblings, parents, partner, friends and even your favourite flavour of crisps. How can one word be expected to convey the texture and hue of such a varied, personal and subjective range of emotions, thoughts and chemical stimuli that weave themselves together and manifest themselves as the love between two (or more) people?

You have to experience Love to know what it is, and in doing so you expose yourself to the possibility that its potent magic may cast a spell over you that may bring as much grief as it does joy. If it doesn’t hurt it isn’t Love, it’s love or lust, or something less substantive. And I don’t mean hurt because something has gone wrong, like being rejected, dumped, spurned or having your love unrequited. Love can grab your heart and twist it, take your breath away at the thought of the object of your affections. It can happen when they walk in the room or the smile at you when you wake in the morning.

So to have one word to describe something that can only be experienced may I suppose be an honest expression of English’s failure to do justice to the concept. A form of self-imposed New Speak that would have had O’Brien smiling a smug smile.

Love is one of those concepts that will never be quelled by a language inadequate to describe it though. It’s too strong, too inherent in our nature as human beings. Even if the lads and ladettes of the nightclub scene choose to ignore and deny its existence it’ll get them eventually … and if not they’ll spend a lonely old age regretting that they chose to ignore Love’s potential to make them whole.

Funny how one thought leads to another isn’t it.


The beer is cold and the glass covered in condensation. The humidity is stifling, un-seasonal, unnatural. I watch the bubbles migrate from the walls of the glass and merge with the head on my pint. My tongue wets my lips in anticipation of the first mouthful of the amber nectar.

The rim of the glass is cold on my lips, the cold liquid breaks on my tongue, carbon dioxide is liberated on its rough surface. I swallow.

Lowering the glass from my mouth my eyes focus across the bar. She’s standing alone, in a crowd of what appear to be her friends, apparently. She listens, nodding, laughing, trying to join the conversation, but on the edge of the group, physically and metaphorically.

She’s drinking from a bottle, something pink, fruity and deceptively intoxicating. As is her hair, black and streaming down her back. Her red painted lips accept the open neck of the bottle, wetting her mouth with it’s exotic fruitiness.

A single drop of condensation falls onto the exposed, expanse of exquisitely exhibited cleavage. It rolls across her skin and between her breasts. As it disappears from sight my mind chases it with my tongue, down across her belly to her navel.

She notices me watching, her hand rises to her upper chest, as if to wipe away the droplet that has already disappeared. She looks at me. I look back. Should I look away? No, too obvious. She smiles and eases the tension in the moment. I reciprocate and punctuate my embarrassment at being busted with larger full stop.

She looks back to her friends, one of whom has just told the worlds funniest joke. As she laughs she sneaks a look across to where I’m sitting. I see her in my peripheral vision and formulate my first line. Nothing like fluffing the intro to blow your chances.

Well, no rush just yet. Half a pint of carbonated brain anaesthetic until that endless nerve-wracking walk across the sticky pub carpet to where she is.

My mind is already there though, touching her through the tight jeans, feeling her chest against me, nose filled with the aroma of her hair … we’ll see.

Plums And Plumbing

A short video introduction to this post by Alex.

Alex and I have been on holiday this week and despite the weather have had a great time indulging in each other.  Well, it’s turned cooler at nights and has barely stopped raining in days, so what is a couple to do?  😉

It’s been a really lazy week because of the weather, I did have planned to recover the garden from the weed patch it had become, for Alex to get up the ladder and clean the windows, I was even going to clean the car.  Steps back in amazement!  But all that has gone asunder, too bloody wet to do anything outside.

Got up this morning after a lie in and an early morning spooning which resulted in Alex shagging me from behind whilst cupping my breasts.  I love to wake with the time to do that, on the average work day it’s too much of a rush these days.

I folded up a wad of toilet paper and pushed it between my pussy lips to stem the flow of seeping semen.  Then climbed out of bed to head for the bathroom, waddling like a duck in an attempt not to let the toilet paper slip out from between my labia.

I turned on the tap and ran the water to air it, It ran and ran but still it was only tepid.  Not one drop of hot water came forth.  Alex came in to the bathroom to wash too and then realised that the heating and hot water had not come on.  He hurried downstairs to check the time clock and discovered there was a fault with the boiler.

By now my lips had stuck to the toilet paper and I carefully peeled it away pulling my labia as it detached from them.  I threw it down the toilet and gently peeled the remaining toilet tissue off myself.

We both washed off in almost cold water and made off for the plumbers merchants for spare parts.  The rain was pouring down by the time we pulled in to the car park at the plumbers and despite the fact I knew there probably would be a shop full of guys to ogle being a plumbers shop, I decided to wait in the car and keep dry.

Alex had been inside the shop for about 5 minutes when one of the shops employees popped himself half out of the shop door and proceeded to light up a cigarette.

Our car was parked to the left of the entrance and I couldn’t see Alex or anyone inside the shop but a few people left whilst he was having his smoke, so I guessed Alex may be some time.

The shop assistant was sporting a black cap with the name of the plumbers emblazoned on the peek, black trousers and a blue top with the plumbers logo on it.  He continued to smoke his cigarette and wandered over to the opposite side of the shop frontage, away from where we were parked.

Rain was streaming down the windscreen and distorted my view out of the front but the side window was clear.  I watched as the assistant backed up against the window and proceeded to drop his trousers.

My mouth must have been open and if there had been any flies around I’m sure I would have swallowed them.  lol  I couldn’t believe that he had dropped his trousers and I could clearly see his thick brown pubic hair above his waistband.

He clearly had no idea I was there and I watched with baited breath, hoping to see a little more of his equipment but he then pulled his trousers back up again.

Being the naughty person that I am, I wanted him to know I had just seen him mooning his colleagues.  I turned the key in the ignition, starting up the fan and he turned to see me sitting in the front seat of the car looking right at him.

I’m sure he started to blush as he quickly made his way back in to the shop.  🙂  Shortly afterwards Alex emerged from the shop, he hadn’t seen a thing but heard the guys talking about it.

Why oh why didn’t I take my phone with me, I could have captured the moment for you…it’s not every day shopping is that exciting.












There’s something inside me that only she can unleash
It’s secretive, shunning the gaze of others
Not because it’s afraid of them
But because it’s afraid of what it might do to them
She can set it free
Wants to set it free
Longs for its liberty
Needs it to be loose
To be unleashedIt’s not cruel, but it hurts her, sometimes
It bears no grudge, it’s too focussed on the moment
But its touch can be vengeful
But without malice
It’s my passion
My lust
The torrent of basic instinct that only she can free
The tsunami of sensation that devolves me

Into my purest animal self.

Subterranean Kink

Over the last week I’ve been exploring It’s the sort of alternative community that can only exist on the Internet.

It’s also the sort of place which has surprised me, both because I have enjoyed the exploring and because of the refreshingly friendly and accepting attitude of the other members. They are one the whole as you would expect interested in BDSM and D/s relationships. Some are in such relationships, others just exploring their own sexual nature.

As an outsider in their world I’ve found myself drawn into their chatroom conversations and intrigued by their attitude to both BDSM and kink, but also life in general. Above all I’ve been accepted and welcomed, without question.

So why not join and see what you can learn about others and yourself?

The Brits Are Cumming!

I have never disguised the fact I have a high sex drive and as a result of that this site came about.  So that we could share with you all openly and honestly.  It goes without saying that we both love sex and have spent the last few years discovering its many forms and each other.  😉

I’m not sure if there is something in the English blood or water that gives me a predisposition to carnal delights but I found this old article today whilst browsing the Internet and it may just explain why.

Sex mad Brits have blown their supposedly prudish image with two-thirds watching porn with their partners while over half own sex toys, according to a new poll.The sexy survey revealed that the majority of couples today indulge their fantasies and enjoy the pleasures of the adult entertainment industry.

Researchers found that 69 per cent of adults are willing to give approval to the porn industry with 58 per cent actually owning sex toys, erotic films or magazines.

Although lusty lovers are reluctant…

You can read the rest of the article here.

It just shows how times have changed and we are no longer having sex with the light out and fully dressed.  Lol  And I have only participated in one of the top fantasies mentioned.  😉  I am open to offers though!

I also found this and I had to chuckle and it was all in a good cause.

Priest Boots Organist Who Sells Sex Toys. 

NEW FRANKEN, Wis. — Linette Servais, 50, is in trouble with her priest for playing with more than her organ.
Servais has been canned as the organist and choir director for selling sex toys on the side. Servais said her priest told her the sale of adult accessories isn’t “consistent with Church teachings.”

Here is the link to the full story.

Although a little sad it did tickle me somewhat and it is a subject close to my heart.  😉

You Can’t Beat A Bit Of Mutual Masturbation

So you remember my last post where I just couldn’t say no?  Well I may have to reconsider next time.  Lol  What made me say “Yes of course we will have him for a couple of nights whilst you two have a weekend away”!  And I offered when I was sober for heavens sake.

Not that I don’t enjoy having little nephew, he is becoming more and more interesting by the day but also more and more tiring.  You can’t just sit a read to him or play with his toys, he is all over the place like a tiny whirlwind.  Lights on in living room, lights off in living room…run upstairs AND lights on in bedroom, lights off in bedroom.  We must have looked like a house of ill repute this weekend.  Lol

What is the bloody fascination with turning the lights on!

I love him but he is making me feel old but glad I opted for the soft fury option with a leg at each corner and a meow to welcome you.  🙂  Far less trouble, if dangerous when hugged.  Lol

We did several manic circuits around the house, opening cupboards, doors and drawers before finally settling down to catch our breath.  No correct that, I caught my breath and he was busy thinking up his next bought of mischief.  I put an end to his deadly deeds and ran a bath so that Alex could enjoy some quality time with him whilst I had a cup of tea.  I could have done with something stronger I cant tell you.

The cat almost packed his bags and left home.  He likes the attention but not being chased into his catflap.  🙂  I’m sure he tried to blag his way in to next door a couple of times but they have cats and they don’t like him much.  Don’t say anything but I think it is because his girlfriend is the only queen in the locality.  They are bloody jealous I can tell you.

After his bath, some warm milk and a bedtime story it was time to put little nephew to bed and pray that he settled down.  We turned off all the downstairs lights and put him down in the room next to us with some soft music playing of the portable CD player in his room.

Alex and I stripped naked and jumped in to bed.  Ok, so we fell in to bed.  We were so tired that it was all we could do to hold each others hand as we lay side by side.  As Alex started to relax his hand made it’s way to his cock and he began to gently and wistfully pull his foreskin back and forth.  I watched, I love to watch him work his own cock.

Too tired to do anything else, I reached over in to my bedside drawer and reached under my panties for my clit vibe which was hidden there for emergencies.  I’m glad nephew hadn’t been too thorough with his noseying.  🙂  I spat on my index and middle right fingers and moistened my clit with the saliva.  A token gesture really because the sight of Alex masturbating had me wet already.

I positioned the vibrating cup over my already receptive clit and pushed the button on the base of the vibe.  It felt good but I needed something a little more intense, I pressed the speed/setting button again.  That hit the spot!

Alex was now rhythmically working his cock with his head back on the pillow and eyes closed.  I watched him, like a naughty voyeur.  Savouring the visual treat as his cock stood proudly upright at 90 degrees to his body.  I shuffled my hips to gain better position and crossed my feet over at the ankle, pushing my buttocks together to intensify the neural stimulation.

I now moved the cup gently from one side of my clit to the other, gently rubbing the pink button as I went.  I pushed my left foot down on to the top of the right in a vice like grip of my buttocks as I felt the orgasm build in the bottom of my spine.  A moan escaped my lips, I had been deliberately quiet, trying not to raise the attention of the sleeping child in the next room.

Alex took a firm hold of my right forearm as I moved the clit vibe to achieve a greater sensation.  His stroke was now faster and he was starting to push his shoulders down in to the mattress, toes curled up towards the ceiling.  I sure sign he wasn’t far behind me.

This fuelled my passion and I started to come, my legs locked crossed over each other and I began to twitch uncontrollably as I came.  Alex turned to face me and gave me a look of a man in love as he continued to stroke his cock with his right hand.  Or was it a man who was close to orgasm?  Lol

I had peaked and the rapturous orgasm dissipated, leaving my body limp and sated.  For a moment I was floating blissfully around in a warm cloud of pleasure, then reality seeped in at the edge.  Alex was now very close, I could tell.  I reached for his left hand and took it in my right.  At that moment he flipped over on to his left side and a ribbon of his ejaculated cascaded down on to my abdomen.  Glistening in the tungsten light of the room.

It was quickly followed by another which shot over my left hip and on to the bed at the side of me.  Then, plip, plip, plip came successive batons of semen as they hit my lower abdomen and thighs.

With a carnal grunt the last of his seed hit me and then Alex rolled over on to his back, cock in hand and a relieved look on his face.  Where there is a will there is a way!  😉

I Just Can’t Say No

When asked to look after little nephew this weekend we just couldn’t say no.  He is so adorable and becoming more interesting by the visit.  Yes it means that Alex and I will not be able to jump each other’s bones when and where we feel like it but it is a small price to pay for the joy he brings.  I say joy but that thought isn’t present with all in the household, the cat doesn’t like him much.  Lol

He picks things up so quickly now, there is no way that you can get away with anything.  We both have to watch our Ps and Qs as he copies what we say, parrot fashion.  I must admit that today I let slip “bloody” a couple of times and stopped myself from saying something a little stronger.  🙂  How restrained, I was quite proud of myself.

The weather was not so good so we decided to take him shopping with us to the mall.  It was a handy visit as we both forgot about father’s day tomorrow.  Oops!  After a couple of indecisive hours we found what we both wanted to buy for our father’s and then ate lunch.

On the way home I almost forgot we had the little one and asked Alex if we were going to stop by our local sex shop.  When we are in town it is something we do without a thought.  I totally forgot about little nephew until Alex pointed out that it wouldn’t be a good idea with the small one in tow.  Second Oops!

So as I write this tonight and listen to the little one moaning about having to go to bed, I’m praying that he settles quickly so that we can get down to some naughty fun.  Thing is we are both tired and if he doesn’t settle soon we could end up asleep instead.  Don’t you just love kids…

I can tell you all feel for me.  🙂

Can I Get Your Number?

Remember that I told you we invested in a suitcase to keep all our toys in, one with a lock to keep nosey parkers out of?  Well, I forgot to mention that we also have a stash of porn mags kept in a photo copier paper box, in the small cupboard under the stairs. 

Even though there are numerous free porn sites, it’s nice every now and then to get a magazine and thumb through it.  For even greater effect I have on occasion read one whilst Alex drives me around.  The looks you get a traffic lights or from van drivers are priceless, especially when they have to take a second look because they can’t believe what they have just seen.  😉

Back to what I was going to tell you.  This morning I had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a big fluffy white towel when there was a knock at the door.  How is it that as soon as you sit on the toilet or take a shower, someone decides to either visit or call you!

Anyway, I threw the towel over the heated rail and wrapped myself up inside my bathrobe, slipped on my slippers and made my way downstairs.  I could just make out a man through the glass in the door.  I checked out that my cleavage was showing slightly.  Did someone just shout tart?  Lol

Then I opened the door.  It was a clean shaven dark haired, olive skinned guy, about my height and dressed in a uniform.  Ordinarily the sight of a uniform would have got me slightly moist and giggly but his outfit was leprechaun green and not very attractive.  However, he wasn’t too bad but I didn’t have much time to flirt before I had to leave for work.  He had a lucky escape.  🙂

“Where is your meter love?”, he asked.

“Just under there, inside the cupboard”, I replied pointing to the small door.

He bent down to see inside and turned on his torch to assist his reading, he wrote some numbers quickly into his book, turned off his torch and closed the door.

As he left he smiled at me and I thought he could be interested for one glancing moment.

…Then…Have you every had the feeling that something isn’t quite right and you can’t quite put your finger on it?  I did but not only did I put my finger on it but my whole hand.  It occurred to me that he may have seen something naughty in there.

One half of me was willing me to take a look inside the cupboard and the other wanted to take refuge in denial.  I shook myself out of my turmoil and took hold of the handle and pulled.

I could not believe my eyes.  The last time Alex had gone down for a magazine he had left the top off the box, it was stood against the wall to the side of the door and the top magazine cover was clearly visible.

The large chested blonde on the front of Hustler could not have been missed surely.

Oh shit, shit, shit!

Corset Piercing And What We Do For Appearances

Yesterday’s post about lacy-uppy things led to RN Buffoon asking “Can you find a picture of a corset piercing ? I have no idea what you mean!”.

T’Sade pointed her in the right direction –

Makes you think doesn’t it. What are you prepared to do for the sake of appearances? I don’t mean that in a derisory way at all. People who have such piercings obviously have their reasons, be they aesthetic, sensory, sensual, sexual or a mixture of all those. If you can stand, or even like, the pain/discomfort of having the piercings I suppose it’s no different than spending hours in the hair stylists chair, having your nails manicured, putting on make-up or giving yourself blisters searching around the shops for “those shoes”.

All of these things make a statement, and that can be a sexual statement, or at least a provocative statement. Is it to attract a mate, or to assert your authority in your job? Is it to make a sexual statement at work to attract a colleague or to influence them?

Personally I can’t say that I’ve ever consciously dressed to kill for work. I usually wear a suit, the nature of my job dictates that, and on dress-down days I tend to avoid the highly fashionable and opt for comfortable. I’m also a bloke so I tend not to go for nail varnish and false lashes, on me at least LOL.

Outside work is a different matter. When on the prowl in my youth I did make the effort, long hair black jeans, boots … yes, rocker. Strangely enough the longest and only true love of my life, Suze met and fell in lust with me during a dry spell, where I’d decided to give up trying for a bit. Perhaps I’d got too desperate (and it probably showed), deciding to take it easy on the “pulling” front perhaps made me more attractive to Suze.

I don’t feel the need to dress, to impress any more. Maybe that’s something I ought to change. For example Suze likes to see me in a suit, she’s always liked that. She even likes me to make love to her whilst wearing a suit. I have a special suit for the task :).

Hmm. I’ll have to make the effort and dress up a little more for her I think. Any ideas?

Tags: corset piercing


White Corset by =JonnyBalls on deviantART

We were in bed last night … no I’m not going there, well not in that sense anyway.

Try again. We were in bed last night watching TV, post and indeed pre sex as we were at it again later, I really ought to get more sleep …

OK third time lucky.

We were in bed watching TV last night when I commented on an otherwise unremarkable summer dress being worn by a woman on TV “Oooh I like that”.

“Of course you like that.” Said a grinning Suze.


“It’s a crissy-crossy laced up thingy.” She explained.

She’s right. I love anything that laces up, in the clothing department.

I mean pretty much anything in the clothing line, with lacey uppy bits, that’s for me. Dresses, blouses, corsets, stockings (yes you can get stockings with lacey uppy bits at the back. Your basic shoe doesn’t do anything for me, retifist I’m not.

They don’t have to be in any of what might be thought of as “kinky” materials, rubber, leather, PVC, what have you. It’s just the lacing.

I even like the look of corset piercings, aesthetically at least. I’m not pierced in any way, call me a wimp but it makes me wince.

I’m simple and predictable. Can I have a “Typical Male!” from all the ladies 🙂

How about you, is there something that simple guaranteed to get you going?

Tags: lacing,corset piercing,fetish,fetishes,fetishism,retifism,retifist

The Mystery Is Solved

The mystery is over. Remember the toy that Ann Summers couldn’t sell. Suze was pondering why …

“Earlier this year, Britain’s Ann Summers sex-product company announced it would stop selling its remote-controlled Love Bug 2 personal vibrator in Cyprus after Cypriot military officials complained that the device’s signals were interfering with army radio transmissions. [The Guardian (London), 6 May 2007]” Source News of the Weird.

So, Mr Gently was correct, it is the radio frequencies. Good job they found out too, who knows what other phallic objects might have gone off unexpectedly.

The image is from this site, lots of willy shaped objects to look at, all very beautiful.

Tags: sex toy,love bug,ann summers,weird news,daniel wurtzel

About Us – On YouTube

For all the belong members who got a notification email about this post earlier today, sorry that this is late. We were, kind of otherwise engaged *grin*.

Things I have learned today:

  • I still can’t do “About Us” spiels
  • Video editing takes ages
  • I’m my own worst critic
  • My PC is too slow to use when editing videos. So crap in fact that it crashes at vital points, like just before I’ve saved my work.
  • Sunday is the sloweeeesssst day to upload a video to YouTube.

All that said, enjoy …

Late edit: Don’t worry, our next video will be from Suze. If you’re a member of Belong you’ll get advanced warning of its release.

Where Are You Putting That?

Suze recently wrote about Crystal Clear Balls Anal Vibrator here, from her perspective. She has pointed out to me, repeatedly (LOL), that I should write about how it felt for me. While thinking about how to describe the sensations and feelings that anal play give rise to with this toy I think I have to put them in context with our anal play in general.

The first steps towards anal play were made by us months ago, I’d have to check the blog for exactly when. Then it was just a lubed, gloved finger inserted tentatively into my rectum. Suze was receptive to the idea of being the giver and I was intruiged by what it would feel like to have someone stimulating my prostate. I discovered on our first attempt three very fundamental things about anal play.

  1. There is no one sensation that gives pleasure, it’s a combination of five. First the stimulation of the entrance to your ass. The soft skin is sensitive and the feeling of the lube running down it, a finger spreading the lube and then that same finger or perhaps a toy sliding inside is very, very pleasurable.  Once inside four other sensations add to the first. The tightness of your sphincter around the object being inserted is in itself enjoyable. The movement of an object both at the entrance to and deep inside your colon can take my breath away. The feeling of being filled by something is in a strange way rather comforting. And finally, with the right toy, or expertly placed finger the massaging of the prostate can be very intense.Depending on the toy or digit(s) inserted the mix of these sensations varies, sometimes they are simply comforting, on other occasions highly arousing, taken to the extreme their intensity can be quite painful.
  2. Lube is very important. If the object to be inserted is relatively small, then copious amounts of saliva will often suffice, but for the most part water based lube, plenty of it, is required. Related to this is the necessity to keep those annoying little hairs around your entrance in check, pulling those inside is, I imagine never having been waxed, like having your pubes waxed in slow motion. Torture. Because they get dragged inside with the toy, even if you’re well lubed.
  3. It’s not possible for an anal virgin (being fucked by a man with his cock/toy, or woman with a toy) to have said instrument of pleasure “just slide inside” their arse. Well not unless they have a particularly accommodating arse and it (unlike most other human being’s) excretes its own lube. With a certain combination of cock size and receiving back passage it may be possible to exit the vagina of your partner and enter her ass aided only by the lubrication of her juices, but on the odd occasion that my aim has been awry during sex, Suze’s rectal sphincter has been a door most definitely closed to intrusion. Try sticking anything of any size in either of ours without appropriate preparation (lube, lube and more lube) and the burning pain that ensues will ensure the giver is left in no doubt as to the intensity of the burning pain inflicted on the receiver.

The insertion of anything into your partner’s body is by definition an invasive act. Because of that, engaging in anal play for a man or a woman requires trust in your partner. I find each experience is different, on one occasion gentle stimulation is all that I want, on another I feel the need to be pushed a little further than I have been before.

The latest toy from Bedtime Heaven was quite unlike anything we’d tried before, either in shape of construction and placement of the vibrating component. Feeling Suze ease it inside me was a fantastic sensation. The cool lube running down the crack between my cheeks, the gentle stimulation as she used the tip of the toy to collect the lube and spread it evenly around its tip and my anus … it made me want to push back and take it straight inside.

However I tend to leave Suze in charge when we play like this, she can toy with me and I trust her to do that. There’s that word again, trust. Unlike the walls of the vagina the colon is relatively delicate and easily damaged. Not that you’d believe it from the way some porn stars treat each other.

She gently worked the toy into me. She enjoys watching my reactions, and I enjoy letting her play with me, watch my arousal grow. She touches me gently, especially when the stimulation is at its most intense. That, I find the most exquisite pleasure as it acts as a striking counterpoint to the fiery maelstrom of sensations the penetration creates.

As it happened, the shape of the toy, the effectiveness of the vibration and perhaps my disposition at the time we tried the toy meant I was not able to enjoy it for as long or as deeply as I would have liked. Not that that is a criticism though. It was a delicious precursor to sex with Suze, and it means we’ll have to try it again to see how much further we can push the boundaries together.

The initial insertion was greatly enjoyed. The first ball’s entrance was even more arousing, the contraction of my sphincter as it disappeared inside was both gratifying and comforting. I could feel each of the gentle ribs as they rippled into me. Taking the second ball was just beyond what would have been enjoyable. This time at least.

As for Suze and anal … as Suze puts it, she likes it as an occasional accompaniment, a side dish if you will, but can’t envisage it as the main course. Not yet.

Tags: sex toy review, sex toy, anal toy, anal toys, anal sex

No Sex Please We’re Cypriot!

We have a hot weekend before us, in more ways than one.  The UK weather has taken another turn for the better and the fan and fannies are coming out all over.  🙂  Also Alex and I in our intrepid way are test driving the second toy we took delivery of from Bedtime Heaven and this one is a little different, so keep an eye out for the post over the next couple of days.

It is our aim here to share our sexual experimentation and exploits with our readers, in a no holds barred way and our toy reviews are always thorough and genuinely tested.  😉  This is why when I came across this I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

Edit: 21 Nov 2014 – A link previously here pointed to a page on the Ann Summers website stating they didn’t deliver to Cyprus. The page no longer exists so I’ve removed the link but though I ought to explain why to avoid confusion.

Ann why can’t people in Cyprus get down and dirty too?

Any thoughts dear readers?

I’m Feeling A Little Horse

This may sound really juvenile but it tickled me and I went to work with a chuckle this morning as a result and I’m still laughing now when I think about it.

As a child I recall being taken round the zoo and enjoying looking at the animals and their behaviour.  In particular the elephants.  And you know why don’t you?  They would be strutting around with the most enormous cocks hanging down between their legs.  Their appendage seemed to have a life of it’s own, moving around as if locating a receptive female.

This brought me and I’m sure many other kids a huge amount of hilarity.  Especially if your parents then tried to gloss over it or make something up to explain the animal having the none standard 5 legs.  🙂  In recent years I have had the tables turned on me when out visiting a wildlife park with young members of the family.

I was reminded of the local dog who freely roamed around when I was young.  He was a rather over weight and very amorous beagle.  Short, stout and quite strong very much like a rugby player.  He would wander around all day eating anything and everything he could hoover up, this included the scraps which were thrown out in to the bin behind the local fish and chip shop.  He was quite literally like a tank and when he came running up to you could almost bowl you off your feet.

All the local kids knew to stay clear of him if he was heading your way.  If not you had to face the consequences.  He would run up to you, take your calf between his front paws and pull against your leg whilst at the same time sliding his rear end towards your incarcerated leg.

Then as if someone had flipped a switch he would start humping your leg, and try as you might you could not break free.  That dog had a vice like grip and the weight to resist escape.  Powerless to do anything other than drag your foot and the dog across the floor, you had to grin and bear it.  Alright then, not so much grin but grimace.  🙁

All of these memories came flooding back to me before I set off to work this morning and watched the BBC News with Bill Turnbull and Susanna Reid.  One of the features was of a small horse measuring twenty two and a half inches, called Short Man (original I know).  They were discussing the charity work the horse does for the Disabled Association with his keeper.

The chocolate coloured horse looked very sweet and well turned out in his black coat, embroidered with gold thread and encrusted in coloured paste.  That was until the camera moved out of the close-up shot.  As the camera focused out it became apparent that Short Man wasn’t a “small man”.  His dick was growing right before everyone’s eyes.  I watched in both wonderment and hilarity as recognition hit the cameraman or director and the shot mover back in to one of the horses head and back.

A few moments later they tentatively moved out again and…no there it was again.   Oh the joys of working with children and animals.  🙂 

Finger Lickin’ Fun

I have no idea why starting my period should leave me feeling so randy.  After all it is the most awkward time of the monthly cycle to be fucking like bunnies.  But there I was at work unable to concentrate on my job because of the naughty little thoughts that kept on popping in to my head.

My colleagues had to repeat themselves several times today because I just wasn’t listening to them.  I explained that I was so busy concentrating on my work that I didn’t hear them at first.  I could feel my nose growing as I did so, the “Pinochio” effect.  🙂

By lunchtime I just couldn’t wait to satiate myself but I hadn’t gone to work prepared unlike last time which you can read about here.   I was hungry for sex but also food, so I pulled up outside the local greasy spoon and slid my eyes across the greasy menu on the wall trying to find something which didn’t involve high lipid levels.  Lol

After purchasing a tuna salad on brown I left the café checking my watch.  How much time did I have left?  There was still a good 40 minutes to find somewhere to park up and play.  I wasn’t going to take my chances in the supermarket car ark again.  There could be CCV footage of my last visit on the internet somewhere.  No this time I had to find a quiet spot with no onlookers.

I drove to the back of the local industrial park and into a council estate and I spotted the perfect place.  A quiet car park behind the houses sheltered and quiet.  I pulled up in the end space next to the shrubbed border with bottles, cans and fag butts in it.  Lovely…I didn’t bother looking any further in to the nature of the litter around.

As I sat there eating my sandwich I thought about the link which Froggy Woogie had sent to me for the Pussy Deluxe Emergency String. I knew I should have ordered one and kept it in the golvebox but it was too late now.  😉  I hurriedly finished my sandwich, far more interested in the dessert than the main course.  In fact I eat the whole sandwich and didn’t even taste it I was too distracted.  I screwed up the empty paper bag and placed it in the sidepocket of the door.

I withdrew the emergency toilet roll out of my glovebox.  No not for that!  It’s there to wipe hands on or blow my nose or in this instance for post orgasm clean up, you naughty people.  😉  I reached for the recline knob for my seat and wound it a couple of clicks, just enough to allow easy access between my legs without the hindrance of the steering wheel.

Sliding forward in the seat I lifted myself up off the upholstery and raised the hem of my red cotton skirt.  I reached up to my hips and slid down my g-string, over my knees, towards my ankles and over my feet.  I looked around to check that nobody was around and placed the string in my handbag for later.

The very thought of my self indulgence had already slicked my pussy and when I placed my fingers between my engorged lips they were immediately moistened.  I felt warm and inviting and I shuffled on the seat, parting my legs further to ease access to my swollen bud. 

My tampon cord was in the way and I tried to grab it between my fingers.  Every time I took hold my fingers slid off the end of the string.  I’m sure the girls know exactly what I’m talking about.  🙂  Eventually I managed to wrap it around my finger and I pulled the cord back over my perineum.

I began to run my middle right finger up and down my slit, massaging my clit with each stroke.  Momentarily I caught site of myself as I looked up in the interior mirror, biting my bottom lip in concentration.  My speed quickened and I increased the pressure as I worked my coated fingers over that sensitive pink clit.

Nobody could hear but I let out a small moan as my never ending began to fire inside my pussy and clit.  It felt like intense bolts of electricity shooting through my body and in to my lower back.  Each spark bringing me closer to orgasmic release.

Now my fingers were moving across my clit, rocking it from side to side, varying the speed and pressure.  I was unaware that my eyes were now closed as my body became raptured by my own ministrations.  I pushed my back harder in to the seat and was now pointing my pelvis up towards my dexterous fingers, bucking and twitching with delight.  I was so close.

I was then shaken back to reality…the noise of a car engine broke through my hazy pre-orgamsmic state.  Shit a car!  I quickly opened my eyes to see a car reversing in to the parking space nextdoor but one to mine.  Fuck!  Did they see me?

Two youths climbed out of the car and stood talking next to the front bumper of the vehicle.  That was enough for me I pulled my skirt back over my legs and started the car engine.  The clock in the car said I only had 5 minutes of lunch left.  That would have been just enough to bring myself off but today wasn’t going to be the day.

In my hurry to leave I forgot to put my g-string back on and had to rush up to the toilet when I got back to work.  Can’t take the risk of someone checking out my snatch on the open tread stairs, that is unless it would result in me getting a promotion.  Now that’s an idea…

Tags: masturbation,menstruation,masturbation in cars, sex and menstruation,sex while menstruating


OK before you read this here are some ground rules. I don’t do poetry, I’m crap at it, so if this sucks, you have been warned. It doesn’t rhyme, it doesn’t scan as well as I’d like but Suze likes it. Please let me know what you think. Be brutally honest and with any luck I will not inflict any more of the same on you .

The comforting greyness of my dreamless repose
is slipping from me.
The harder I grasp it
the more ethereal it becomes.
Fragmenting before my unconscious mind
as I try to immerse myself once again
in that pool of grey oblivion.
Rising from the oily embrace of sleep
I feel the acuteness of the real world waiting for me.

But what awaits is not the cruel unwelcome caresses of a workday
but a weekend morning.
Not the grey monotony of my salaried slavery
but the golden aurora of my woman’s love.
Enveloping me, comforting me, exciting me.

The hour is late, spring sunlight dancing on my still closed eyelids.
My lover’s hand strokes my cheek.
It lingers briefly before tracing an orange path to my inner thigh.
There she teases my softest of skin with her tenderness.
My sex is moving, swelling, expectant. My balls are rising, tightening, tingling.

Her hand enfolds me, deftly, firmly.
Her tongue wets my nipple, lithe and slippery.
Her breath betrays her, desire dammed.
Her cataract is cracking, crumbling

The serpentine track of her tongue has only one destination.
Her intent is obvious, yet no less welcome for that.

The first touch of her tongue on my glans solicits a shudder
from deep within me.
Her hand grips my balls, gentle, but immovable.
Each arch of my back, each wriggle and squirm I make
pulls against my shackled scrotum.
Steel-white flashes streak across me as I struggle.

She devours me
ever deeper.
Tongue ceaseless in its movement
dancing, cavorting, making my body tremor.
Teeth rake, lips squeeze, tongue palpates.

The glowing ball of my climax begins, deep in my groin.
A golden ball, crossed with green and blue.
There’s no holding it back, she knows how to please me too well.
It blossom, erupts, transforms into the shimmering pebbles of my orgasm .

I gasp, buck, thrash as I pump my seed into her throat.
She holds me down, taking every drop of my essence.
And in the swirling afterglow, eyes closed,
my only sensation is that of her tongue lapping at tingling cock.

Off The Peg

He pressed her against the wall crushing her round buttocks against the rough brickwork. Her suede jacket was open displaying a tight black top, framing a full and inviting cleavage. A loose perm transformed her profusion of straight black hair into a cascading waterfall of shiny curls that reached to the centre of her back. Her eyes were green-brown, lined heavily, lashed black and long. The bright red of her lips beckoned his. He was not deaf to their call.

Lipstick smeared, tongues engaged inside her mouth in a lustful internal combustion. He tasted of beer, she tasted of vodka. He smelled of oil and leather she of hair lacquer and provocative cheap perfume.

His hand found her breast and crushed it through the thin material that separated her from him. Her nipple swelled, tingled, ached for more. He pressed his denim covered groin into hers, letting her feel the hardness of his straining cock against her leg.

She pushed him away and with a deft movement scooped out one half of her ample bosom. He grinned a salacious grin. She reached around behind his head and pulled his lips to her nipple where he sucked and licked, held by her as if he might loose interest in devouring her breast … as if.

Her free hand unbuttoned and unzipped her skin-tight stretch denims. She moaned from the attention her new friend’s tongue lavished on her areola. The rich aroma of her lust impregnated panties wafted from the open V of her flies. The ride here on his Harley had been a thrill, as always she seemed attuned to the thrum of a V-twin, the vibration of two pistons pumping inside her.” I’ll have to try that for real one day” she thought, and smiled.

She was ready, hell she had been ready for so long. He felt himself pulled away from his soft, delicious prize, her hand entwined in his long hair. He watched her take three steps to the chair at the back of the shack, wriggle her black panties and jeans over her wide hips and bend over. Her hands rested on the chair’s base, the backrest across her lower abdomen.

She heard him fumble with his belt and pull down his jeans, then the comical stumble as he shuffled across the floor. She imagined his cock waving in front of him, but did not look round. She wanted to feel his cock not see it, have it enter her as a stranger, just as this guy, Mike or was it Mark? … was a stranger to her. It was the moment, the danger, the thrill of the hunt, and in this the moment of the hunter’s triumph, her greatest feeling of arousal and satisfaction as, as …

… as she felt the head of his cock invade her, legs held together by her jeans, trapping her, pressing the lips of her protruding pink pussy tight against his hot veined shaft. She sighed, she whimpered, then she wailed while he progressed from slow entry to deep strokes, then to wild abandon. He sensed her need, her wantonness, her insatiable lust and tried to fulfil it. The chair creaked and squealed as its wooden legs scraped on the floor.

His cock glistened from her pussy’s appreciation. She pushed back against him, once, twice, and on the third thrust she came. A moment later he did too, grasping her hips, skewering her on his phallus, strong hands leaving bruises on her soft skin.


“See you around.” He said.

“Yeah, see ya” She replied to his back and the cloud of petrol fumes and dust he left her with. She’d asked for a tassel from his jacket, as a memento. He’d grudgingly agreed, letting her snip one off. “Kinda cute” he’d thought.

When she made it home she slid the cigar box from under her bed and laid the leather strip along with the others, black, red, brown … nearly two dozen in all. All with a memory of a jacket, a rider, a bike and a fuck with a guy she’d never see again. Or ever want to.

Clarissa Part 3 – The Meeting

Clarissa wasn’t surprised by the décor. But then she hadn’t known quite what to expect. If she had given herself time to contemplate she might have imagined a crypt, dark, dank and oh so clichéd, or perhaps a penthouse suite occupied by smartly dressed, handsome, fearsome looking members of the undead. Her experience of the last six months had taught her not to expect the obvious from her new “life”, this wasn’t a hammer movie with Peter Cushing about to leap out and press a cross into her forehead, nor was a cool, razor-witted ninja waiting around the next corner to slay her with his titanium “Samurai” sword.

She wore a skirt, very short, very Goth, very appropriate, or so she had thought. Sitting on the sofa in the front room of a suburban bungalow on the floral print fabric sofa it looked a little incongruous. Clarissa found herself keeping her legs together and to the side, hands clasped and resting on her knees. She regretted the deeply plunging neckline of her top and the rich purple-red of her lipstick. The awful gaudy, outdated carpet seemed to draw her eye, her normally level stare transformed into the meek downward gaze of an errant pupil called to the headmaster’s office.

Facing her were three menacing individuals. They represented the one third of the Others, they spoke for the whole group, their authority was absolute. The six remaining members were there too, in spirit if not in a corporeal sense, they spoke to each other without words, in the same way they had called her here. She had heard the summons to this place in her mind, she had tried to ignore it. But it was like a stone in her shoe, she could think around it but it would keep reminding her, prodding her, making its presence felt until she obeyed their call.


Clarissa and Ben stood on the grass looking out across the landscape  painted silver-grey by the bright moon. The party’s booming music becoming less distinct with each step they took towards the copse that overlooked the house. They were holding hands, Clarissa leading him, struggling to disguise her impatience.

“I never knew you felt like this about me.” Said Ben. “In fact I thought you hadn’t even noticed me.”

“I didn’t notice you. Until tonight. But people change.” She licked her lips, the taste of his semen still fresh on them.

They reached the copse, disappearing almost at once within the dense stems of the coppiced ash and broad boles of the trees. Clarissa leant back against the riven bark of a mature oak. Ben leaned in to kiss her to be stopped by Clarissa’s raised index finger on his lips.

She dropped her hand and lifted the hem of her skirt to reveal her soaking red panties. The invitation needed no RSVP, simply his attendance and undivided attention. His knees hit the damp leaf mould, the dampness of the ground soaking into his designer jeans.

She felt his fingers tug at her inconsequential underwear, exposing her wet lips. His tongue probed her carefully manicured mons, drinking in its overwhelming aroma and thirsting for the soft molten flesh inside. Clarissa moaned as he enveloped her clitoris.


She’d never met the Others before, having avoided the inevitable parley like a condemned man avoiding the drop. She could feel their presence and their distain for her. If she hadn’t felt so intimidated she would have been glaring her resentment back at them.

One was standing behind the opposing sofa and appeared to be in his forties, the other two, seated, were apparently a couple, outwardly in their mid sixties, though their souls stretched back much further. She slid her mind into their pasts and fell through two centuries of their lives before they felt her probing and threw up a wall in their minds to stop her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you dear” said the female half of the couple. Her voice was quiet, refined, charming.

“Oh? Really, do what?” Replied Clarissa feigning innocence, but the rebellion in her voice was surfacing. Or was the steel in her voice a product of fear? She felt cornered and aggrieved at having being summoned, like a wayward pet recalled to its master’s side.

“My mind is my own. Step inside there again and I’ll show you things that will tear your sanity to shreds.” Her thin lip cured into a snarl, though her voice remained urbane and level. She smiled, Clarissa found the smile even more disturbing than the snarl. “And then I’ll rip your throat out.”

“Can we get on?” asked the youngest of the three. “I have an early flight tomorrow and I need to feed.”

“Of course Timothy.” Replied the woman, she turned to Clarissa “I think you know why you were asked here.”

“Indulge me.” Clarissa’s spirit overwhelmed her trepidation, though the moment the words had left her lips she regretted them.

“Your nature is not compatible with the Code. A fact that your attitude tonight confirms.” Impatience in the old woman’s voice bubbled just below her veneer of composure. “You have two choices, either change your nature and continue your existence as a member of the undead, or forfeit your existence.”


Ben’s hands gripped her thighs, pressing her against the tree. Her hands gripped his head, pressing him into her groin. Ben wasn’t about to leave the task at hand half completed, his tongue slid across her labia, massaged her clitoris, dipped into her fiery opening.

Clarissa’s head rolled backward, eyes staring blindly at the canopy above her and the stars beyond. Her breath came shallow and fast, the moisture in it condensing in the rapidly cooling air. Rapt by the ripples of pleasure Ben was sending across her body she felt nothing but the moment, singular, joyous, hungry. And cruel, a cold selfish cruelty because when he was no longer useful to her for pleasure he would satisfy the hunger building inside her, a hunger like she had never know.

A seismic shudder convulsed her body, erupting in a screaming wail that set the trees trembling. Ben continued his lingual embrace of her pussy, enjoying her release, wet from it, feeling her loss of control as the rapture engulfed her. She was tingling, every movement of his tongue, lips and teeth amplified in the post climactic glow. Ben nuzzled into her, drinking from the sacred well until the quivering tension in her thighs began to subside.


“That’s not much of a choice.” Replied Clarissa.

“You would be surprised how many of your kind choose not to conform. So many choose annihilation rather than comply. However, we must insist that you choose because without the Code our entire existence amongst the humans is in jeopardy.”

The younger man spoke. “Clarissa, without the code we could not continue to feed, to exist, to thrive.” His voice was soothing, kind, almost friendly, certainly beguiling. “You do understand that don’t you?”

“What I understand is that you are an effete, self-proclaimed oligarchy who seem content to see vampires live out their existence in secrecy. We could be so much more if it weren’t for the code. I could be so much more!”

The old man felt the need to defend The Code. “The code is there to protect us and the humans. For us it ensures our food source does not become restless and too wary. They on the other hand live in blissful ignorance of our existence, save for a few folk tales, and rather amusing books and films.”

Clarissa’s gaze dropped to the carpet, it’s nauseating design not helping to settle her stomach. She wanted to rebel, her new-found power telling her she could overwhelm the Others, force them to allow her to behave as she wanted. Set against this was a tiny seed of reason that reminded her of their age, their guile and their capricious nature.


Ben’s mouth parted from her lips. He looked up at Clarissa, her face still skyward and eyes shut in a post-orgasmic trance. He opened his mouth to speak, but felt a hand grip his shoulder and throw him backwards, landing against the trunk of a fallen ash.

“Leave us” ordered the dark figure. His eyes glowed, just for a moment, amber yellow, pupils reptilian. Ben scrambled to his feet and ran headlong back towards the house.

Clarissa, startled, opened her eyes, but as she returned to her sense did not need her eyes to see him. It was the one who had turned her, the one who had given her this new existence.

“We need to talk …”


Timothy was crouching in front of her now, he took her hands in his. “This is difficult for me, more so than the others, I turned you. We will always have a unique connection, you know that. So Clarissa, I’m asking you, please agree to abide by The Code.” He smiled at her as she raised her eyes to look into his. She smiled back weekly.

After a moment his face hardened the smile evaporated from his lips and he stood, looking down at her. “You have until tomorrow, midnight, to make your peace with us and agree to be bound by The Code.”