Monthly Archives: August 2007

Un-Bridled Passions – Part 2 of 2

You can read the first part of this story here

Chris struck her again with his crop, the sound of the blow was music to Penelope’s ears and was followed by a stinging sensation in her buttock and a warm afterglow. “Ah!” she exclaimed, grateful he understood her intentions, her needs.

“Stand up” his voice was stern but not unfriendly. She pulled herself up with his help and leaned on the wall of the stable to aid her balance.

“Hold out your hands” it was an order, one that had her complying immediately. She wanted to know how far he would take this, but at the same time relished the suspense, enjoyed the feeling of being controlled by him.

Chris looped the reigns around her wrists and drew the two ends between her forearms three times creating makeshift cuffs. He threw the free ends over the beam above Penelope’s head and pulled the dangling straps down. Her arms were raised so her hands were level with her face. She was already at his mercy, now supporting herself on one good leg and the tension on the leather restraints. His face was calm, commanding, his voice steady, reassuring and firm.

“Is this what you want?” he asked.

“Yes” whispered Penelope, “Oh yes!”

The reigns were pulled so raising her hands. Penelope had to stand straight, arms above her head now. Chris tied off the straps on a hook and walked around his captive. He placed his crop on her cheek, drawing it gently round and down, across the side of her neck and earlobe.

With her arms raised the hem of her jacket was level with the waistband of her jeans, presenting a tempting target. Too tempting to resist. The crop swished behind her and dealt a swift blow to her buttock. Penelope twisted involuntarily, loosing her balanced and instinctively putting out her injured foot to steady herself. She swore as the pain reminded her of the pulled ligaments, but Chris’s strong hands where there to steady her.

His fingers brushed against her breasts through her clothing. She imagined him undressing her now, in the stable, taking her here. But she knew he was not about to do that.

When the next kiss of the crop stung her ass she managed to steady herself by using her arms and leg alone. The other raised slightly, the constant effort this required making her even more aware of his control over her.

Her unseen captor continued to place one blow after another on her rump. Not hard in themselves and softened by the denim of her jeans, yet the cumulative effect had created glow which spread out from her tingling buttocks up her back and down the back of her thighs.

The blows stopped, their blissful tattoo replaced by an eyrie silence, devoid of sound, the warm glow in her ass replacing harsh caress of the crop. Penelope stared straight ahead, wondering what was to come. Her gaze was caught by the dust dancing in a shaft of light created by a displaced roof tile. The golden specs echoed her thoughts, dancing, floating, spinning round as she imagined His next move.

She felt his hand reach under her blouse and grasp the full mound of her left breast through her light cotton bra. His breath was hot on her neck, quickening as his thumb and forefinger took her nipple and squeezed. The pressure slowly increased until it reached a cruel intensity making her cry out in pain. The seed of pain in her tortured areola germinated, grew until it blossomed from her mouth in a wailing joyous ululation.

She became aware of the tension on her arms reducing. His arms were around her, lowering her onto the bails of straw. Her jeans were removed exposing white cotton panties to the cool air. He grabbed her ankles and raised them, inspecting her reddening ass cheeks. Chris gently rubbed the glowing skin with his free hand, soothing them. Round and round he rubbed watching as the moist patch in her panties grew darker, its aroma richer.

Crack. He landed a flat-palmed smack so hard on her arse that she drew in a sharp breath and held it for a moment such was the shock.

His fingers hooked inside her underwear, seams ripped, the panties were no more than a tattered memory. He lowered her buttocks onto the coarse straw. Penelope’s burning rump felt skewered by a hundred cellulose daggers.

She felt her legs pulled wide apart and allowed herself to look down between the wide V they formed. Chris stood, trousers at his knees, cock waving in front of him. She licked her lips, eyes imploring him to continue.

Chris pushed into her hot, avaricious sex parting her pouting labia, gliding on a river of fragrant fluid into the very centre of her being. There was to be no careful build-up, no delicate tease, they both needed to feel him take her.

He drove into her, pubis to pubis, Penelope his to possess. The unremitting strokes pressed her buttocks onto the bales stabbing her skin a thousand times. Chris began to shudder, eyes rolling. He grabbed her bound hands and pulled her face to his, not to kiss her but to exclaim “Yes!”.

Her pussy clenched and bound his cock in an embrace as tight as that of the straps on her wrists. His orgasm filled her while hers enveloped him.

For several minutes he pulled her close until his shuddering stopped and her muscles released their grip on his cock. He let her fall back onto the straw, cock slipping out of its warm prison. She looked as his thick, veined, softening member, tongue playing on her lips again.

Chris knelt on the straw next to her head and let her tongue lap at their mingles fluids until she was satisfied.

Penelope looked up at him, “Thank you. Master”

Talk To Me Baby!

What if your partner could make you cum just by whispering something to you.  I have just discovered exactly how you can achieve this, distance no problem.  😉

“The Toy” is manufactured by a company here in the UK, Cool & Groovy Toy Company.  It’s the first (as far as I am aware) Bluetooth controlled sex toy.  It operates by receiving sms messages from compatible phones from these suppliers:

  •  Nokia
  •  Motorola
  •  Panasonic
  •  Samsung
  •  Sharpe
  •  Sony Ericsson

You will be relieved to know that the toy is not discoverable via a Bluetooth search, so your secret is safe.  Especially if you wear it to the office.  Now there’s an idea!  😉

The Toy will only respond to tagged messages so there is no worry the Betty in the next office will be getting off on yours.  It’s good to know that it is silent in operation too, although you may not be.  Lol

It has virtually an unlimited range of motions, speeds and times.  You could achieve up to 45 effects from one letter, 7200 variations from a single text message.

You can read more here I’m getting excited just reading about it.  And don’t forget, if you order one I’d like the purple one.

Now where did I put my mobile?  😉

Tags: sex toy, vibrator, adult toy, blue tooth, blue tooth vibrator, blue tooth sex toy, nokia, motorola, panasonic, sony ericsson, sharpe, samsung

The Mirror Cracked

Broken mirror by ~111Melody on deviantART

“… what we’re seeing on the net is a reflection of the society we live in. When you have a problem in the mirror you do not fix the mirror, you fix that which is reflected in the mirror.”

Vint Cerf on speaking on the BBC Radio 4’s Today programme 29 August 2007.

Cerf’s comments stem in no small part from calls by some politicians, groups and individuals to impose some form of censorship on the content of certain sites.

I have a great deal of respect for Cerf, his work in creating the TCP/IP protocol made the Internet possible and was carried out at a time when personal computers were just a sci-fi writer’s dream and before mobile phones, satellite navigation and mp3 players for just a few quid were decades away.

I could not agree more with his assertion that we must not blame the Internet for the ills, and let’s face it, plain sick-mindedness of certain members of society. The Internet simply affords the weirdoes and dangerously deluded members of our world an easy and too often anonymous medium by which to communicate and propagate their poisonous filth. Violence, hate and degrading acts can all be found out there if you’re minded to search for them.

But all of these things are a product of human minds, not TCP/IP, HTTP or a sentient and evil JavaScript program.

Free speech is a privilege, hard won with the blood of generations and should not be taken for granted. Ask bloggers who live under some of the more oppressive regimes around the globe. Oh, you can’t because their governments’ censor email and block them from seeing certain web sites. To remove the freedom to express oneself would be a crime against all of us and would throw a stifling blanket over the Internet. Bubbling cauldron of ideas and invention it is today into a pale and fettered echo of what it can be.

There’s an irony, Cerf’s current employer values free speech so much that it caved in to the Chinese government about filtering search results for Google’s Chinese search engine.

What I think must be emphasised is that while yes, the Internet is a mirror, it’s a mirror to those of us who stand in front of it. Some sections of our (world) population are unwilling, or unable to use the Web and we do not see them in our online community. Only 1 in 6 of the world population has web access so Cerf’s mirror is a little distorted.

Do I believe that we should censor the web, especially on social networking and self-broadcast sites like YouTube? Yes undoubtedly, if the content includes acts that depict, incite or encourage harm of, oppression of or violence toward another human being.

The current craze in the UK amongst the sick youth of the country is “Happy Slapping“. Sickening. It displays a lack of empathy for others that does not bode well for the perpetrator’s future conduct. Combine that with increased knife and gun carrying and it’ll not be long before snuff mobile phone videos come online.

The BDSM community tend to apply the rules “safe, sane and consenting”, for me that’s pretty much perfect as a measure of what should be allowed.

As for human rights and the right for free speech? I value the rights of children above those of adults, the rights of the weak over those of the strong who would try to control them and the rights of anyone without a voice over those who would seek to shout and drown them out.

How about you?

Tags: Vint Cerf, Internet pioneer, TCP/IP, HTTP, censorship, internet censorship, free speech, Internet porn, happy slapping, YouTube, Google, blogging, human rights, search engine, search engine results, search engine result filtering, BDSM

The Scent Of A…

You may recall that a couple of weeks ago Alex and I travelled for two hours just to smell pussy.  If you missed the post you can catch up with it here.

Right, are you back?

I made my way across the shop floor and I don’t know why but I took a look around to check if anyone had entered the store.  As if I was about to practice something extremely clandestine.  🙂  Alex extended his hand out to me as I approached and the rocker guy with the ponytail and receding hairline watched my every step in anticipation I suppose.

As I walked over it flashed through my head…”I wonder how many women have had the balls to ask to smell this?”  He was waiting for me being a woman to give my opinion, no doubt one of a few but not many.  I bet all the shop assistants had already sampled the sensuous aroma.

I took hold of his hand and raised it to my nostrils, then drew in a deep breath…

…now you all know me, I’m an honest girl and don’t mess around trying to pretend that a spade is not a spade when it bloody well is.  Lol  I drew in my breath and smelt…

Piss!  I’m sorry to say this and it was a great disappointment to me but Vulva Original smelt more like Incontinence Pants.  The smell could be likened for all you out there who haven’t had the opportunity to take in its fragrance, like an old folks home.  Not nice to admit but true.

I felt a little awkward as I played with the responses I had to this fragrance inside my head, partly considering tempering my response and possibly lying and I couldn’t do that.  The little voice inside my head kept saying “Go on tell them what it smells like they are waiting”…”No I can’t, I would have to be honest and come right out with the truth, that I thought it smells like pissy pants”.

After a few moments of wrestling with my response in my head I decided to go for it.  “I think it smells like urine”.  There was an uncomfortable silence and Alex tried to dilute my response by taking another sniff and saying it’s getting there.  Lol  He’s such a nice guy!

The guy behind the counter didn’t say anything, in fact I did wonder if he didn’t agree with me.  Or have I got a particularly sensitive nose for the chemistry of the various fluids found around a woman’s bits.  Who knows…but it did smell like piss even after a few minutes and I really, really hope my fanny doesn’t smell like that.  Alex just mentioned as he read this over my shoulder that it doesn’t, phew that’s a relief!  😉 

Tags: scent of a woman, vulva original, vulva scent, vulva perfume, pheromone

Supermarket Madness!

OK, a quicky.

Yesterday we were in the supermarket and saw the objects depicted on the left. Now hands up who thought like we did … that they’re a bumper pack of mini-bullets? Go on you know you did. Actually they’re glitter pens for giving away in kid’s party bags. Of course if it’s an adult party I’m sure there’s a market for bumper packs of mini-bullets for those type of party bags.

Yesterday was hot and so is today. We have a few days of summer, or what passes for British summer these days. Whether it’s due to climate change or natural cyclical variations this summer has been a weird and often devastating one.

So, being summer everyone’s wearing shorts. Even the Rammerâ„¢ was delivering mail this morning, face set in it’s permanent battle between melancholy and just plain bad-tempered, with his pasty white knobbly knees exposed for the world to see.

So while at (another) supermarket this morning, look don’t ask we just couldn’t get everything we wanted from the one last night, we saw this …


Shorts, socks and leather shoes just don’t work for me. What do you guys think?



Masturbation Is A Very Personal Thing

Masturbation is a very personal thing, LOL, well that should go without saying I suppose. However what I mean is that masturbation, or when and how you begin to masturbate is different for everyone.

In my case I began to masturbate after I started getting wet dreams, which was of course after I started getting spontaneous wood at inappropriate and often embarrassing times. Before that of course there was …

I think a timeline is in order here.

My first recollections of sexual stirrings are from the age of about 8 or 9. Prior to that interest in my genitals (and those of others) had been limited to the differences and the usual self-examination that kids go through. Curiosity not sexuality. But at about 8 or 9 I discovered my father’s stash of girly mags and first felt a tingling in my loins. The first awakening of my man bits. OK at that time they were hairless boy bits but you know what I mean.

It was akin to the feeling the need to pee from what I recall and became stronger as I, over the course of the months, opportunities permitting, acquainted myself with the ladies on those glossy pages. I don’t remember getting a full erection until some time after that and then probably mainly in the mornings.

Eventually this evolved into my first wet dream. I seem to remember my first one was more memorable for the furtive cleaning up operations the next day that the dream itself. The orgasm however was worthy of note because it was my first and like all wet dream orgasms different from those resulting from masturbation or sex. I think I’ve covered the differences elsewhere so I’ll not cover that ground here.

Strangely I don’t think masturbation came until a couple of years later. Odd that on three counts. Firstly because every boy in my class would talk, correction snigger, about it stimulating my innate curiosity. Secondly because I enjoyed the dreams, ergo you would have thought I’d have been wanking as soon as I knew I was able to ejaculate/orgasm. Thirdly that when I wanked regularly I avoided those embarrassing morning stains.

So for whatever reason I think I was a bit of a late starter in the wanking stakes. Not that I’ve ever compared initial wank ages with anyone as such. Eventually the curiosity/urge and opportunity coincided and with toilet tissue in one hand and an underwear catalogue in the other I “carpe phallus” I suppose you’d call it and had a go.

My first wank resulted in an orgasm that was not unlike my wet dream climaxes, though more intense, mainly because I was consciously aware of exactly what was going on. My subsequent efforts, and believe me they followed thick and fast, yes and sticky :P, taught me a few things. Pretty basic stuff, that I think men take for granted in later life:

The tipping point or point of no return when an orgasm is inevitable
Balancing on the tipping point to increase the intensity of orgasm
Just how sore a dick can get when over used by an enthusiastic beginner

Well that’s a brief history of my first steps into onanism. I hope you enjoyed it.

Tags: Masturbation, masturbate, masturbating, wank, wanking, onanism, wet dreams, sexuality, sexual awakenings

The Look Of Love

This morning started off perfectly, sun shining, birds singing and to top all that, I had the chance to watch two young foxes playing in the garden whist eating breakfast.  All felt good with the world.  It amazing what a difference rising to the sun instead of rain and wind makes.

Today I drove in to work smiling and singing along to the music on the radio.  It felt as good as Friday, well almost.  Lol  The drive in to work was relatively uneventful too, I usually end up with some dickhead carving me up or some old fool driving like an idiot.  Not this morning, it was stress free for once.

I pulled up in to the car park and made my way through reception and in to my office.  The sales guy from our other office was there today, he’s kind of cute.  😉  He only visits now and again for sales meetings.

“Good morning”, he offered as I sat at my desk.

“Good morning everybody”, I replied.

“You look fresh and glowing this morning”, he said
“Thanks”, I replied feeling good about myself and a little smug.

“Did you get some this morning before coming to work?”, he enquired without an inkling of embarrassment.

I just sat there not quite knowing how to respond but full aware that my silence would be interpreted as a resounding YES!

My face was now feeling a little warm and glowing.

“You did didn’t you?”, he laughed.

I grinned.

How the hell did he know that Alex woke up this morning with such a hardon that we couldn’t let it go to waste.  😉  Just how did he know that I had had a good rogering before going in to work?

Has this ever happend to any of you, did your colleagues guess what you had been up to?  Can you really tell when someone has had sex or was it just a lucky guess?

Lemon Zest Sea

Polished chrome balls reflect the light of distant stars
as they float in a viscous yellow and orange fluid.

The meniscus clings to the smooth surface of the spheres
rotating and bobbing in the surreal ocean of colour.

I can see the ocean of citrus shades directly
but behind my head the black sky and the myriad pinpricks of light tantalise me,
reflected in the shining metal globes.

The lemon zest sea dissolves
to reveal the clear blue of an English summer sky after a thunderstorm,
streaked with diaphanous white cloudlike threads.

With each thrust of my hips the white takes over,
until, with every movement inside her I am wrapped.
Wrapped in unbreakable white threads of ecstatic sensual agony.
My body shivers with each white hot rapier of cascading neural energy.

I am illuminated head to toe in a light that only I can see and can only struggle to describe.

For those of you who don’t know me and my little idiosyncrasy, this is a description of the feeling I just felt at the point of orgasm when we were making love.

Tags: syneasthesia, synesthesia

Stick Em’ Up!

You all know that Alex and I like are no strangers to sex toys over here.  In fact we have a case full of them secreted under the bed.  I’m even considering placing a few of the smaller ones permanently in the car glove box for those lunch breaks.

It was in the car the other day I picked up on a hilarious news story on the radio, at first I couldn’t believe my ears and had to turn up the volume and wait for the hook line to be repeated.  I know I have a very dirty mind and I wanted to be sure that I hadn’t heard half a story and invented the rest in my naughty little mind.  😉

The story they were running concerned a guy robbing a bookmakers last year and his weapon of choice…

…his girlfriends vibrator.  Yes, I did say he was armed with a vibrator.  Now I can sometimes be a little slow like the rest of us but I never imagined that a Rampant Rabbit was a deadly weapon before.  No, scrub that, at times it can render me unconscious.  Lol

Check out the full story over here, and the image, I’m sure you can make out the rabbit ears hooked over his wrist.  I’ll make sure that my battery controlled toys are under lock and key from now on.  Perhaps I should have Alex make me a wall mounted cabinet for them.  🙂

Of course this means we have to expand the scope of our sex toy reviews to cover other possible uses.

I’m A Wanker – Part 2, A Readers Tale

The wonderful thing about blogging is the ability to share your thoughts and experiences with a like-minded group of people.  Interaction is always encouraged here at AlexSuze although participation is not always forthcoming.  And best of all it is a good forum to open up questions to my fellow bloggers and any reader wishing to contribute.

On the 4th August I posted up I’m A Wanker and posed several questions to my readers regarding circumcision as I have never encountered it up close and personal and like all women I’m inherently nosey.  Lol

Although reader response was good it still left me with several unanswered questions.  Until “John” came to my aid.  He emailed just the other day, answering in great depth and very descriptively (the bit I like best)  😉 my questions and for that I would like to say a big Thanks.

So without further ado and with John’s permission I am publishing his emailed response to me.  For ease of reading my questions are in pink and John’s responses in blue.  Enjoy!

“But it did make me wonder just how sensitive the end of a cut cock is, I mean if it rubs against your clothing all the time, I guess it would make it less sensitive to stimulation.  Otherwise cut guys would be constantly coming in their underwear, wouldn’t they?

“Ha ha!  Actually no … I don’t know the difference between cut and uncut, but I do find that my head responds very well to stimulation, and that the sensations I feel when I’m erect are much more sensitive than those I feel when I’m just rubbing against my clothing all the time.

“And the frenulum, this is one of the most sensitive areas on a cock, so what happens to it when you have been circumcised?  Does it disappear althogether or does it become less sensitive?

“Depends … in some guys it’s removed … they’re the unlucky ones!  Mine is still there and does the job magnificently.  It pulls tight when I’m erect and really is the most pleasurable spot!

“And finally how do you wank a cut cock?  Is it best to just rub around the underside of the head or is there another tecnique?  See I don’t know everything but I’m a fast learner  so if there are any guys out there reading this who can educate me in the art of wanking a circumcised male I would be most grateful.

“Well, here’s where I can share my experience …

I actually don’t do it much different to how I think most uncut guys do … but I’ll let you decide since you probably have more experience with an uncut guy than I do … 🙂

I like to lie on my back, naked, my legs wide apart and my feet joined together at the soles (if you get the picture). I grip my shaft tight in a fist sort of motion, and i pull the skin up over the head as far as it will go … which is nowhere near as far as an uncut guy, but about 1/3rd to 1/2 over the head.  It gives me the sensation of the shaft skin stimulating the ridge of the head, and it’s also very hot to watch my head disappear briefly underneath the shaft skin.

With my other hand, I like to either stroke the inner upper thighs, my nipples, my testicles or my pubic hair … always lightly for all of them, except maybe the nipples which i like to tweak with fingers wet with saliva.

That’s my most common method, and I generally do it slowly to start, and build up the speed as I approach orgasm.

Another method is to make the fist but to use the other hand to pull my shaft skin back tight and use the fist to open lightly and run along the skin, and the head directly.  That’s exquisite when I use lube, or have sufficient precum, but sometimes it’s nice to do it dry for a change, but I can’t do that too often.  The dry feelings are really very raw, and quite different to lube or pulling with the fist.

Probably my favourite method, but which requires a lot of time and huge amounts of ‘foreplay’ to get ready is to build up a lot of precum and use it with one finger to run along the frenulum.  It is simply magical, but it takes forever to cum!  When I do, the orgasm is very intense because it took so long to get there.  I’m lucky I get a lot of precum, which makes it easier to achieve this one!

The final point – making love with my girlfriend – the sensations being cut are wonderful because there’s nothing between my head and her vagina, ever!  Nowhere for my head to retreat to, if you know what I mean!!

As I say, I’m not sure how different it is to being uncut, but I hope my explanations do help you (and Alex) understand.  Please feel free to ask me ANY questions!

Keep up the great blog!  And I hope this message has you guys as excited as it does me now … so which of those three methods will I use now…?

I know which method I used after reading that.  😉  Thanks once again to John for taking the time to answer my questions and turn me on at the same time.

Party People

Alex and I were invited to a party at one of his work colleagues yesterday.  I must say and only now dare I say it…I wasn’t looking forward to attending, the guy is much younger than us and I’m not one for partying with a house full of people I don’t know.  In fact I hadn’t met anyone who was going.

Still I took the bull by the horns, put on my makeup, heels, low cut top and set off on the 5 mile trip to his house.

When we arrived at the front of the house no music could be heard.  Always a good sign…NOT!  Lol  There were no people visible either in the windows of the house or on the front.  It did cross my mind for one moment that we were the only people to turn up. 

It wouldn’t be the first time.  When Alex and I first got together, we went to a Birthday party for one of his work colleagues (different employer) and there only 6 people there including the guy who was holding the party.  We got ourselves a drink from the kitchen and sat down in the living room with the others.  I told you it was wild.  🙂

You start off by telling yourself that the others will be coming soon and to sit tight.  The conversation was strained to say the least and the music was so low that you couldn’t even loose yourself in it.  We managed a couple of hours and then through the art of liar follow liar, made our excuses that the cat was locked out and left.  Normally I would have felt guilty doing this but not on that occasion.

Anyway, back to the party.  We knocked on the door and were greeted by a guy, no idea who he was.  Nor the other 30 people in the kitchen and house.  I looked around the kitchen and living area, not one person in sight was 30, not even 29.  🙁

We were surrounded by students and feeling quite old.  Lol  After a couple of glasses of wine I began to see things differently and realised that some of the girls were quite hot.  I started to make conversation with a girl in a low cut smock top, she had sapphire blue eyes and a very, very nice pair of boobs which were only just being contained by her top.  😉

I was now begining to see the positive side to being surrounded by younger party goers.  The wine flowed and before long we were mingling with everyone like we knew them from Uni or something.  I was really letching but not at the guys, the girls were lovely.  I was beginning to feel like a dirty old lady and was feeling so randy imaging seducing several of the females.

Alex was happily chatting away, blissfully unaware of my lascivious thoughts.  😉  The night rolled on and despite seeing several girls I was attracted to, I still hadn’t seen “The One”.  That was until she stood in front of me talking to her boyfriend.  She was tall, dark and gorgeous.  She had long brown hair, stood about 5′ 10″ and was dressed casually in blue jeans and a navy sweatshirt.

Nothing out of the ordinary you may think but she had beautiful twinkling green eyes and an infectious giggle.  I think it was the giggle that caught my attention first.  Naughty and cheeky all at once.  Strange how I was only noticing the girls.  Hmm.

I felt really randy because I had got home from work, showered and then got straight ready to go out, nothing but a quick hug and a kiss with Alex before we set off out.  I was now feeling it.  It’s not something that I could put my finger on but I was most probably suffering from coitus absenctia.  Lol

The thick seam in my jeans crotch became quite useful as I stood there crossed legged talking to the girl, I think her name was Laura.  She was talking to me and being very suggestive, teasing Alex and saying how much she would like to put her tongue inside my mouth.  Don’t ask how the conversation got to that, all I will say is that the drinks were flowing and so were my juices.  If she had asked me to go upstairs right then and there I would have.  😉

She pushed all the right buttons, pretty, witty, intelligent and humorous…everything non tangible that I find attractive in a mate.  No fuck buddy.  She now had her arm through mine and was hugging up to my left side.  At one point she was looking right in my eyes and I almost felt the urge to lean in and kiss her but drew back.  It wasn’t like that, I wish it was but she was just up for some fun.  Shame.

We played around with double entendres and jokes but she wasn’t going to succumb to me.  I consoled myself by rubbing off my clit with the seam of my jeans.  I’m sure I’m not the only girl ever to do that.  😉

Watching her throw he long glossy hair over her shoulder, combing her hand through it was great to observe but just made me want her more.  I couldn’t contain myself much longer, the mental torment and my horniness was not getting too much.  I suggested to Alex that we should get home to feed the cat.  Sound familiar?

When we threw our clothes off and jumped on to the bed and I straddled Alex and fucked him like a bitch on heat.  I think that must have been the longest we have gone without fucking each others brains out.

Does anyone else get sex withdrawal, or am I a special case?

Hidden Talents

You think you know someone and then they go and surprise you when you least expect it. That happened to me last week. One of the female members of staff at one of my clients revealed a talent that I never suspected she had.

You can stop that train of thought right there. Bad, bad people.

Turns out she’s an aspiring illustrator and a good one at that. I’ve worked with her for a year and she never even alluded to it. The only reason I found out is that she brought in a few pieces of her work to show the rest of the office last Friday. It was her last day in the job, now having moved on to pastures new.

Do any of you have any hidden talents, something that you don’t tend to reveal to friends, colleagues or even family?

Un-Bridled Passions – Part 1 of 2

On our Blog Birthday this year I promised that if anyone had an idea for a story I’d write one for them. No, I hadn’t forgotten about it, just got sidetracked. So finally, here it is, Part 1 of the story inspired by Pixie’s suggestion:

The dark brooding clouds rolled and boiled above the grey stone farm house, their ceaseless turmoil seething like the unspeakable brew in a witches cauldron. Indeed Hamlet would have felt at home on the blasted heath above the farm.

The rain had stopped, moments before and Penelope turned to look at the window of her small room. What had been rivulets of water streaming down the glass were now jewel like beads, refracting the sunlight which seemed to burst through the clouds. The storm was over as abruptly as it had begun leaving a world cleaned, refreshed, renewed. The lush green grass of the lower pasture sprinkled with glistening raindrop gemstones.

Penelope felt refreshed too, a bath had washed away the grime of the milking shed and now she had a rare few hours to herself. She had little else to do but walk the boundaries of the farm. That would kill the hours before she was compelled to return to the farm and begin work again.

The footpath to the higher fields, just below the moor, above the farm was steep and slippery from the rain. Penelope trod carefully, practical heavy boots helping her maintain her purchase on the scree-covered path. It took almost an hour to reach the highest point of her land. She stood looking across the broad valley, carved by a glacier in the last ice age. The sky was bright blue, almost cloudless now, but a cold east wind made her turn up the collar of her jacket as it bit at her ears.

The way back was easier, down the track on the other side of the farm. She reached a stile and while astride it noticed the shape of a horse and rider picking their way through the heather. It was that distraction that made her careless and slip on the wet wood of the stile. She fell heavily in her right ankle. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”. She tried to hoist herself up on her left leg, but even the weight of the boot on her right foot sent tingling shock up her calf. When she tried to walk on it she felt sick, saw stars and collapsed onto her hands and knees. “Shit, shit, shit”.

She lay on her side for several minutes, considering how she could hobble back down to the farm on one leg and decided she couldn’t. The dampness seeping through her jeans from the mossy ground reminded her that she couldn’t stay put for long either. The sound of four hooves picking their way through the undergrowth on the far side of the wall posed a question that she had never considered before. What do you shout out in a circumstance such as this? She decided that “Help!” was probably a bit over the top, dramatic and far too girly. “Hello!” she shouted.

The horse and rider stopped.

She tried again, “Hello!”

There was a pause, then the sound of human feet hitting the floor as the rider dismounted. A face appeared over the top of the drystone wall.

“Are you OK?” it asked.

Penelope felt like asking him “Do I bloody well look OK?”, but thought that might be a little ungrateful. “It’s my ankle. Don’t suppose there’s any chance of a ride back down to the farm is there?”

“I don’t see why not. Are you OK while I ride around?”

“I’ll survive.” Replied Penelope. She watched the face disappear and considered the stranger. Obviously new to the area, she knew everyone, and not bad looking from first appearances. She grinned to herself as the now unseen rider trotted off to the gate about five hundred metres away.

Ten minutes later he returned, his handsome grey mare stopping a couple of meters from the prone Penelope. She looked him up and down. He was dressed as a country gentleman from top to toe, not that there were many real landed gentry any more. But he had money, his clothes told her that, from his Saville Row tailored checked jacket to his beautifully made leather riding boots. His trousers were well fitted too, clinging to his firm rump as he dismounted.

Penelope felt a rush of excitement when the square-jawed stranger bent forward to take her hand. “You’ve been on your own too long girl” she thought to herself.

He supported her while she hobbled to the grey and helped her mount. The mare was taller than she was used to at least sixteen hands and with a broad back that spread her legs.

“To the farmhouse I assume?” he pointed down to her home and the collection of outbuildings that surrounded it. “Yes.” She said softly “And thank you for the ride.”

He led the horse across the uneven pasture, expensive boots becoming caked in mud. Penelope looked at his large strong hands holding the reins and imagined him running them through her hair. She slid forward in the saddle, mons rubbing against the pommel. Her mind drifted further, feeling his hand take a handful of her auburn hair and pull her head back, his other hand squeezing her breasts through her shirt.

Penelope’s crotch was getting wet at the thought of him and what he could do to her. The rhythmic steps of the horse and the leather covered pommel added substance to her lustful imaginings. By the time the mare’s hoofs where clip-clopping on the concrete of the yard between the house and the barn the wetness in her pants was spreading, the humidity palpable.

He led the mare into the barn and into a stall. Penelope hadn’t kept horses since father died, she had enough to do looking after the animals that did earn their keep. She swung her sprained leg over the horse’s back and slid into the stranger’s waiting arms.

“Thanks …” She realised she didn’t know his name “… erm?”


“Thank you Chris.” She found herself looking into a pair of dark brown eyes and wishing she was wearing fewer clothes.

Chris helped her into the main barn, sitting her on a hay bail and secured the door of the stall. He found a fodder bag, filled it with hay and hung it from the doorpost for his mount to eat. Chris looked down at Penelope, genuine concern on his face. “We need to get that ankle looked at.”

Penelope’s ankle was not at the forefront of her mind. Chris’s crotch, bulging from his tight trousers and rhythmic tapping of his riding crop against the top of his right boot had her hypnotised. She heard herself speaking “I’ve been so much trouble to you. I’ve been such a bad girl making you trail all the way down here … ” She looked up with doleful eyes and mock innocence.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He said, but she could see from the look in his eyes that he had noticed the intonation in her voice, the plea for correction. He just wasn’t certain, yet.

Chris gently gentle tapped her on the thigh with his crop. “Don’t do it again”

“Oh I’ve been far worse than that” crooned Penelope.

Chris turned and walked to the wall covered in old tack. He reached up and took down a set of driving reins. When he turned back he smiled a knowing smile that fanned the glowing ember in Penelope’s stomach into a burning flame.

To be continued.

Dirty Talk

My days at the office are becoming more enjoyable by the day.  I wish the girls had opened up to me sooner but I’m not complaining.  As you all know I love talking dirty be it in the bedroom or at the office.

The girls revealed today that they have a kinky mutual friend who isn’t shy, for the sake of this post we will refer to her as May.  Apparently she greets men by grabbing a handful of their groin area.  One of the girls, who is quite prim and has parents of breeding said that when she met her father she couldn’t believe that she actually grabbed him.  She said “It was on of those moments when you glance round and see a hand retracting from your fathers groin and you think, Oh no, she didn’t did she?”.

Apparently her father took it in good spirit and after the initial shock of being groped he laughed it off.  Much to the embarrassment of my work colleague who wanted to crawl under a table and hide.  Lol

This woman is married and her husband is just as open minded, in fact they believe that it is his doing that she is so outwardly saucy.  May drives the car around with a carrier bag of “Girls Toys” on the backseat.  One of the girls got in to the back of the car one day for a lift and moved the bag to get in and it was full of her toys.

It sounds as if they are enjoying life to the full and regularly go out in to the woods, strip off and fuck over fallen trees and anything and everything.  I did try to find out where they hang out but I didn’t manage to get an answer, I think the phone rang.  😉

One of the girls said I don’t use things.  I replied “what sort of things?”.  “You know cucumbers and other vegetables”.  I laughed out loud when I realised what she was talking about.  “Don’t you have any toys then?”, I enquired pushing the envelope of familiarity further.  “No, I don’t see the need for them, I prefer the real thing”, she responded.

I was just about to recommend some of my favourites to her and had to stop myself.  😉  It comes far too natural now to just come out with suggestions on adult toys for people to use…I nearly recommended a vibrator in the adult store when we were in there the other week and had to stop myself.

Then it slipped out, “Do they take part in dogging too?”.  Oh shit, I thought to myself as they gave me blank stares back.  I then had to explain to them what it was.  They didn’t think the couple took part in that kind of activity, in fact they couldn’t believe that dogging actually took place.  See, it’s an education working with me.  🙂

Now I can’t wait to meet this woman and I’m hoping that she will turn up at the next girl’s night out.  I may just learn a thing or two.

Tags: dogging, sex talk,office gossip, outdoor sex, sex toys

And I Thought I Was The Naughty One!

I’m now in to my sixth month of working and for the most part enjoying the feeling of being useful once more and of course the cash injection at the end of the month.  The girls at work seem to get on with me and I’m now one of the team.

The reason I know this is because they have now started to open up to me and reveal more of themselves.  That is the other side…the side you don’t normally get to see at work.  😉

Today to be honest we all chatted away most of the day, don’t tell the boss.  Lol  They suggested that we should have another girls night out.  I must admit I enjoyed the last one we had but I think it would be even better now that everyone has let down their guard.

I was sipping away at my tea when one of them said “What about the time we went to that lapdancing bar?”.  Well, my jaw must have dropped to the floor it was so out of character for them.  Or at least I thought it was until today.  I thought it was me that had the open minded attitude and the secret sex blog, I’m the dirty girl in the office!  😉

They started telling me how they got tickets for a group of them and a huge reduction in price.  How they got talking to the girls and even remembered the names of the prettiest ones.  I sat there in wonderment as they told me their story.  I have worked with these girls for the last six months and never knew they were in to these things.

One of them said that she had a private dance from one of the dancers and how they wondered off in to a private area.  She told me that they had to sit on their hands just like the guys did.  I was now beginning to feel a little innocent and unworldly as a I sat drinking up their tales.  I’ve never been to a lapdancing club before but I’m up for it now.

I began to suspect that one of my colleagues may have lesbian/bi tendencies as she described the girl who did the dance for her as having perfect skin and a beautiful figure.  She remembered her name and obviously left a lasting impression on her.  I must admit I was quite pleased that she enjoyed the female attention as this is the girl I mentioned some weeks ago as being cute and generously endowed.  😉  How I would like to put my…I must stop myself doing that.

The other girl pointed out that they had all had chest improvements, which put the mockers on it a little but hey everyone has their faults.  I did point out that it probably helps when you have to hang upside down frequently that your boobs stay in one place.  🙂  She giggled and agreed.  She even asked her where she had them done.

It certainly made for an interesting day and I can’t wait to get invited on the next night out now, we may end up sitting on our hands.

Tags: lapdancing, lapdancer, lap dancing club, pole dancing, pole dancings, pole dancer


Some philias are quite broad in their scope. Take for example uniforms. I personally like a woman in uniform. It can be as part of sexual play, defining a role, even if it’s just in a light-hearted way, or it could be that the uniform accentuates the wearer’s femininity or specific feature of their physical appearance. This is not to say that the uniform imparts power to the individual or alternatively makes them subservient in some way. I don’t like things that objectify women or reduce them to two dimensional entities.

However some philias are very specific. Omorashi falls into this category. Omorashi (From the Japanese “to wet oneself”) is defined by Wikipedia as being sexually aroused by the sensation of having a full bladder or attraction to someone experiencing the feeling of a full bladder. There are several variants on the full bladder theme, but I’ve never felt that such discomfort, with the possibility of an embarrassing outcome, could ever lead to anything sexually pleasurable.

Until Sunday.

We went to gym so I loaded up with fluids before and during. We then showered and went shopping. I took a leak just before we left for the shops, then, while we were out, I had a sandwich for lunch and a bottle of water.

By the time we got home I was bursting for a pee. There were roadworks on the main route into the village and a huge tailback of traffic. When I reached the loo I was hopping around in a way that I haven’t done since I was about seven or eight. That’ll teach me to think, “Oh, I wait til I get home.”

The shear joy and sense of relief that I felt as “Percy” popped into my palm is almost indescribable. My bladder was so full that I couldn’t pee for a moment, then it happened. As I started to urinate my relief was accompanied by a buzzing, tingling sparkling sensation (white and blue stars if followers of my synaesthesia are interested). I then got a sensation not dissimilar to an orgasm. Not as intense, or enjoyable but similar nonetheless.

It took me completely by surprise and left me a little breathless. I think if I’d have been ready for it I would have enjoyed it more and been able to describe it a little better.

So, while I can’t say that wetting myself in public is going to give me a stiffy, literally of metaphorically, the sensation was intriguing, unexpected and worthy of further investigation. I feel an experiment coming on.

Tags: omorashi,synesthesia,synaesthesia,fetish,urophilia,urination

The Scent Of A Woman – Only £14.95

Can you believe we drove miles today to smell pussy.  Yes we did, I know it sounds a little crazy.  It’s ages since I have had the pleasure of inhaling a woman’s wonderful perfume up close and personal.

Since Alex’s post the other day “Scent Of A Woman“, we have both been intrigued and eager to smell the sensuous aroma for ourselves.  So today being Sunday and although we did have other things to be doing, we set off in the car like the intrepid adult industry reporters we are.  😉

After a couple of hours of travel we reached the adult store the largest one in the UK, we thought if any of them was going to have the product they would.  And so we chanced the two hour trip because you can’t really phone up and say do you have Vulva Original in store?

 Well, I suppose we could but we just didn’t want to and it would give us both a day out looking around an adult store to see if we can spot anything new.  One of my favourite pastimes these days.  Forget shopping for clothes and shoes, I now spend my time hunting down new and original toys to review for you.

We pulled in to the carpark and were pleased to see there weren’t many cars parked up.  It’s always easier to talk to the staff if you haven’t got a store full of people because they get distracted and shout out things like “Have you had DVD’s from us before, Oh, so you know about our exchange program then” or “Are you looking for anything in particular?”.

I wasn’t sure if they would have a sample of the essence for us to smell but I was hoping they would.  Alex and I walked around the store, noting that there were laminated A4 sheets placed on the DVD shelves advertising the very product we had travelled to see and hopefully smell.

Alex and I walked around the central counter checking if there was any sign of VO on the counter.  We were just about to give up when Alex spotted a small display on the furthest end of the counter.  No, testers were in sight.  Damn!

Not wanting to draw attention to ourselves we made for the DVD section and I suggested to Alex as the shop was empty he ask the male assistant if there is a tester to sample.  He wandered back over to the counter and asked the assistant as I stood watching from the DVD’s heart pounding hardly able to contain my excitement.  I really wanted the opportunity to try this one out.

I held my breath as the assistant bent down to retrieve a small vial of clear liquid from under the counter.  Alex held out his hand and the guy behind the counter spread the liquid from the vial on to the back of his hand.

Alex beckoned me over…

Tags: scent of a woman, vulva original, vulva scent, vulva perfume, pheromone, jonathan ross, friday night with jonathan ross

Reader Question

Steve asked with reference to the image on the post below entitled Too Hot To Handle…”Just one question about the luscicious pic…is that Suze?”

Well, the response to that is YES!  Isn’t she smokin’. 

And here is another to brighten up your Sunday.




Too Hot To Handle…

They are right when they say that we British are never happy unless we are moaning about the weather.  Over the past few months we have seen everything that nature can throw at us, floods, hail storms and constant rain, searing temperatures and today an earth quake in Manchester.  What the hell is going on!

Temperatures have taken an upturn once again and we can pretend that it is summer for about the 3rd attempt this year.  At least until Sunday when they are promising that the cooler wetter weather will return.

See I told you we are never happy.  Lol

Over the course of this week the weather has become hotter and more humid and finally today we had  a steamy and sticky 24 degree sunshine.  It’s lovely when you can enjoy it at home or even sit in an airconditioned office but over here in the UK airconditioning is almost as rare as dodo shit.  🙂

My office has particularly large expanses of glass, which helps everyone heat up like they are in a Swedish hot house.   Whatever that is…in fact I quite like the sound of that.  😉  By mid afternoon I was wet through and I’m not talking just about my gusset.  You nasty people. It was like a video for a Benny Benassi track, you know the one I mean.

It was so humid that there was a constant trickle of sweat running between my breasts.  I know you guys have it bad with your collars, ties and suits but you don’t have to wear a restrictive bra.  Do those things swell up to twice there size in the heat?  Mine felt like they were trying to burst out of my bra today.

Guys you don’t realise just how uncomfortable wearing an underwired bra is in the height of summer.  Your breasts sweat so much that the underside of your bra becomes sodden with the salty fluid.  The straps seem to cut in to your flesh as they stick to you, restricting your movement.  All these things conspired to me just wanting to throw my bra off and cool down.  But that is something you can’t do in a busy office. 

Or even in the toilets, I would love to let my breasts get some air, at home that isn’t a problem I haven’t been wearing underwear at all over the past few days.  But it’s a different thing at work, au natural would be frowned upon.  Even if I wore a fairly thick t-shirt or top my nipples would insist on giving the game away, they rarely invert.  The bounce would also be a bit of a problem, not to mention the dangers of leaning over someone.  No, I just had to stick with it like thousands of other girls.

So guys next time you complain about your attire during hot weather just give a thought to us girls who can’t loosen our bras like you can your tie.

BTW, guys if you fancy soaping up a nice pair of breasts in the shower, take a look at this.