Monthly Archives: February 2009

Anal Toys And Then Some More

AlexSuzeFrozen Fountain Glass Butt Plug Review

The glass butt plug sent to me by Nice Sex Toys is a genuinely marvelous object. Disregarding its function as a sex toy it could be a beautiful object d’arte for your living room. Though it could be rather disturbing if a your mother spotted it and said “I’ve got one of those …”.

This is not a toy for the anal beginner. Even I, as someone who has experimented with anal toys for some time found, this one is a bit of a challenge.

Whenever you indulge in anal play you have to ensure you’re relaxed an have plenty of lube to hand. The lube is especially true of silicone and glass toys, lube tends to rub off these surfaces so a nice viscous consistency. I worked a liberal amount of lube into my ass with the tip of the butt plug. I gently pushed the tip inside as I lay on my back.

The taper of the butt plug is not graduated so you get an ever increasing stretching of your anus around it as you push it home. I found that I had to remove it several times and ensure there was plenty of lube around to get it to slip into place. It was I have to say a relief to have the widest part of the toy enter me and feel my ass close around it, the base resting against the outside of my ass.

Suze was watching all this and decided to join in, gently moving the base of the plug, even tapping on the glass to send vibrations up inside me. I felt very filled by the toy but it lacked the specific stimulation a male oriented toy would have because it does specifically press against the prostate. It’s more of a generic anal toy.

I slowly stroked myself to erection and did become more aware of the mass of the glass butt plug the more erect I came. Suze waited until I was fully erect before presenting her buttocks and pouting pussy to me. It was an interesting sensation, moving around towards her in preparation for a doggy style fuck. I was apprehensive that the size of this butt plug would make movement difficult. As it turns out the amount of lube I’d used meant I was simply aware of weight of the borosilicate glass tugging slightly at my ass.

I slipped into Suze’s welcoming pussy and slowly worked up a rhythm. The butt plug was certainly adding to the experience, its weight pulling slightly at my ass and the feeling of fullness becoming even more distinct as I got closer to orgasm. When I did cum we both enjoyed it. Suze because she loves to know I have something inside me and me because of the naughtiness of using a butt plug. That feeling never seems to get old.

I was a little cautious about removing the butt plug and removed all traces of external lubrication before gently but firmly pulling it out. The removal brought a feeling of release and for some time afterwards that I had been deeply penetrated.

Like any other glass butt plug this one is easy to clean and beautiful to look at. Its weight adds to the experience of sex, though for a guy the fact that it’s not shaped specifically for the male anatomy means that you’ll not get any P-Spot stimulation to speak of.

If you want a visually appealing and challenging butt plug then this might be the one for you.


Sex On The Deceitful Side

How’s this for weird. I used to figure that people (OK mainly men, do they count as people?) who talked about sex all the time didn’t get any. Working in a male, workshop environment for much of my career, as junior grease monkey, all the way up to a managerial position I’d seen and heard it all.

Not that I’m criticising those people. They are obviously sexual beings, they must be to think about it all the time. But for whatever reason, lack of partner or disinterested partner, they weren’t getting any, or not enough, or they were more adventurous than their partner. Talking about it was a better option than getting wound up about their unfulfilled sexual aspirations.

I’ll give you a few examples.

The first is mentioned here, in a post I wrote a while ago. I knew another guy who constantly went on about sex, the girls he’d seen walking past the open doors of the workshop, what a stud he was … he worked for the company next door and would wander in at lunch while we were eating our sandwiches. Not to put too fine a point on it he got right on our tits. Every ludicrously exaggerated statement from his mouth was accompanied by rolling eyes and wry smiles from the other lads in the workshop. It transpired that his own colleagues knew he was thoroughly hen-pecked at home. Sad in a way that he felt he had to pretend. He wasn’t sad in himself, just intensely irritating because of the enormous piles of crap he’d talk when trying to impress us, but sad that his wife obviously dominated the relationship and wasn’t matched to him sexually.

In contrast I worked with another guy a few years before that, who was popular with the ladies and the entire workshop talked about him. He just wandered round with silly grin on his face for most of the week as tales of his latest sexual escapades were recounted around the firm. His nickname? “Rhino”, because he always had the horn. Don’t blame me, I didn’t think it up.

There’s also the opposite of the sexually exaggerating individual of course. The one who says they’re not interested. While I accept that some people don’t want sex, don’t think about it a lot or whatever, I’m always suspicious of people who deny their sexuality.

I’m thinking of a pair of women who worked in an admin office at my firm a few years ago. I always thought of them as Laurel and Hardy. Not because they wore bowler hats and had a tendency to do house moves on the side and have hilarious incidents with pianos, no, because they were like a pair of bookends. They would talk to each other and bounce conversation between themselves like a well rehearsed vaudeville act. It was a show for the benefit of the rest of the office. The subject of the show, as often as not, was how they weren’t really bothered about sex and had their respective husbands on “rations”.

Looking back I suppose they could have been screwing each other’s partner on the side, or even swinging together, with all the talk being to cover it up. Funny the games we play.

I do remember working (briefly) in the same office as a rather nice mature office administrator who loved to rub up against the salesmen when they came in for their periodic sales meetings. She would flirt with them mercilessly on the phone when they called, perhaps attracted by their enthusiasm, youth, vigour and charm/patter (delete as applicable). On the day of the sales meetings she would dress up as provocatively as she could, wear false nails that made typing impossible and have spent a fortune on getting her hair done.

As I remember her marital status was indeterminate, although I think separated and on the prowl summed it up. I never did find out if any or all of the sales team got to sample any of what she so obviously offered them

I wonder if it’s just a British thing, being that dishonest about your sexuality. Maybe dishonest is a harsh word, misrepresenting your sexuality and sex life might be more accurate. Why is it that the truth about their own sexuality frightens some people so much?

Are House Wives Desperate For A Fuck?

Following on from my post the other day about prostitution I have been reading this article on the BBC about male prostitutes. Have a butchers and then we’ll all be on the same page.

I don’t think it’s just me but the tone with which that article is imbued is rather different from the normal timbre of pieces about female prostitution. In a way I can understand this because it’s all about empowerment.

When a woman enters the profession she does so very often out of sheer desperation and therefore is not at all in charge of the situation. Yes there are high class escorts who get to work in nice surroundings and earn a packet but they are in the minority, no matter what TV dramas and certain films would have you believe.

When a man becomes an escort (rather than a street rent boy) he is in a more exclusive club than a female counterpart and is presenting a different “product” if you will than a female prostitute. It’s not just that the genitalia are different, but that the needs and motivation of the client are less basic.

Women are sexual animals and have carnal, animal desires, but as is often remarked upon, they are not simply turned on to sex by the sight of a cock. Whether they prefer a muscular guy, one with intelligence, charm or a sense of humour, it takes more than an erection to get a woman going.

When I guy pays for sex it’s all about getting off and if possible doing so in a visually appealing piece of ass. For a woman the complex mix of chemistry required means that the service delivered by male escorts is on the whole more involved.

All that contributes towards the different attitude that journalists and the world in general have towards male and female prostitutes – or escorts if you like.

After all, it’s rare that you’d hear a woman say “prostitute my dream job”, but ask a man if they’d like to be paid to have sex with lots of women and they’d probably ask where to sign up.

prostitution, male escorts, sex workers, sex trade

In Bed With A Married Man, SuzeI think we have all been there at one time or another in our lives, perhaps some of you reading right now are questioning your desires. 😉 It’s the desire to get off with someone who you know you really shouldn’t. The flirting the sexy smiles, gestures and innuendo all with one aim in mind…

My earliest recollection of wanting to taste forbidden fruit was when I was taking probably my last foreign holiday with my parents. He was the hotel owner, very dishy and a fellow Brit from London if my memory serves me well.

He was about 28 and I was probably about 16. Those hormones don’t half play with your libido. 😉 The age gap wasn’t so much a problem I was quite a mature girl for my age, always enjoyed the company of older people, I found them more interesting.

No the real problem was that he was a married man who had a son too. He was a real looker and charmer and I think he knew it. I was at the age that my parents would leave me behind at the hotel to talk to a waitress I had befriended last time we had stayed at there.

This worked extremely well for me. After they left to go shopping I would begin my plan of entrapment. Bikini on and hang around the bar drinking soft drinks. Don’t tell my parents but he would also slip me the odd house hospitality drink too. Shhhh. I tell you I’m sure he knew exactly what I was up to.

I would sit and talk to him as he played bar tender, making sure that he got my best angles especially the cleavage shots in my push up and together top. 😉 My parents were blissfully unaware that I wasn’t learning the local dialect but attempting to sow my wild oats. Or is that have some wild oats planted?

His wife was a very nice Spanish lady who would invite me in to her kitchen where she liked to cook for the guests. She showed me how to prepare paella and other dishes during my stay. In fact one morning she asked me to take a cup of tea down in to their basement flatlet for Gary who was still in bed.

I wonder if she could see the look of excitement on my face as I hurried along trying not to look to eager to catch a glimpse of him between crisp white sheets. My heart was beating like crazy as I knocked on the subterranean door to their room.

“Come in”, came the muffled reply from behind the door. As I opened the door I realised that their accommodation consisted of a bedroom and small bathroom. Gary pulled himself to a sitting position in bed with the bedsheet carefully hiding his modesty.

I will never forget the passionate urge I felt there and then to jump on the bed beside him. For a moment I jostled with the idea and then thought about his wife. I placed the cup down on the bedside table and made my way back upstairs. Moment gone forever.

The next time I remember falling for someone unattainable was when I started work for a small property company. My boss was a very handsome guy, with rugged good looks and the deepest blue eyes I have ever seen on a guy. When he spoke to me, things would happen, pants would get wet.

If he asked me to do anything I was straight there without question. My working day although pleasantly sprinkled with views of him was a constant distraction, I found it difficult to concentrate especially when he was talking to me. Trying to formulate thought when all you can think of is fucking this guy in front of you is hard, nigh on impossible sometimes.

He was about three years older than me and unfortunately married. This time it was even more of a no-no, his wife worked in for the same company as the secretary and would have her beady eye on him all the time. She knew just what a good catch she had managed to land and wasn’t letting anyone else try to hook him.

I almost nearly got a kiss out of him at the Christmas party but his wife came in to the room and put an end to that. I’m not sure if she knew from our body language how close we came to kissing, we were all a little intoxicated.

After that I didn’t really get another chance to make a play for him and left shortly after for a better job.

Now, who else has there been…

Dripping Wet Rubber

There are a lot of things that people find attractive, a lot of different preferences and fetishes. If whatever turns you on is more than just a liking for something, a preference that is more of a sexual fetish, then practicality and common sense go out of the window.

If you do have a fetish you will want to indulge that however hard or uncomfortable it is for you or your partner. OK, within limits, but you get my drift. Although being uncomfortable or even in pain may be part of your fetish.

What I suppose I’m actually rambling on about is fetishes that involve clothing that is difficult to put on or uncomfortable to wear for any length of time, or require you to have sex in impractical places or environments that are dangerous or uncomfortable.

I love the look of latex and PVC clothing, but it does have practical limitations as far as wearability is concerned. But again I suppose that may be part of the attraction for some – dripping with sweat and loving it!

Maybe that’s what defines a true fetish in one respect, the need to experience something no matter what the consequences or protracted preparations required to make the experience happen.

Of course not all fetishes require such preparation or clothing/equipment so could not be defined in this way but it made me think about time spent leading up to encounters with this sort of fetish. If you think about it you realise that it’s not so different from the ritual of getting ready to go out on the pull, or to a date with someone you’ve just met. Preparations can start days before, selecting or even buying the right clothes and makeup. Selecting a venue for the date, how forward to be and so on.

So I suppose in that respect a fetish that takes a long time to prepare for adds the extra dimension of anticipation just like the elements of a vanilla encounter can.

I’ll have to find some time to have a ponder on this a bit more.

Great Fuck Songs

Invaders Must DieI have been a fan of the Prodigy since their inspirational CD Fat Of The Land. There are very few CD’s that I can say I like every track on. There is usually one that just grates and you have to fast forward through. Not in the case of FOTL, it is a great CD to jump around the room to and other things. 😉

Which is where I am going with this post. There are times when a slow, melancholy song is good to screw to. One where you want to embrace, touch, get close to each other and savour the moment.

Then there are the times when you just want to fuck, fast and furious and achieve gratuitous satisfaction. This is where the Prodigy’s music comes (no pun intended but whilst we are on the subject. Lol) in to it’s own.

The track I just listened too from their comeback album does not disappoint. Go listen and let me know what you think. All I can say is “It’s bangin’!“. 😉


Fucked So Hard –

AlexSuzeAlex and I lately seem to be suffering from one cold after another. No sooner do we feel better then another one hits. I think I have been more prone than usual due to my circumstances at work, the move and the fact that I am in the same room as a guy who bullied me some months ago.

He is still behaving himself but I am under constant stress waiting for him to flip back in to his old behaviour. And I guess like a cat who encounters the moving in of a new one on the block, it creates stress which wears away, erodes your strength.

I’m hoping given time this feeling will subside and I can relax. But for now I remain guarded and with every reason, this guy is quite ruthless.

The reason for me giving you this background is that I sat down on my office chair at work this morning and my ass felt like it had been kicked. Both cheeks were tender to the touch, a mirror image of each other.

I thought it was strange and couldn’t think why I felt so tender. Could it be yet another bloody cold taking grip.

Then last nights events came back to me. I was on the mattress, on all fours in front of the MFM scene being fucked doggy style. Alex was really going for it at one point I almost lost my balance and nearly tumbled over the end of the bed. Lol

He was pile driving in to me like a man possessed, my boobs were swinging like crazy under me. I can’t recall how many orgasms he gave me but it was more than three. I recalled his groin slapping against me.

That was it. He had banged me so hard that my buttocks must have been slightly bruised. I didn’t bother sharing with my colleagues that I knew why they hurt as you can imagine. 😉

Sex In The Supermarket Carpark

Sometimes sex is spontaneous and just happens. Sometimes it isn’t that simple.

On one occasion Suze and I were popping into the supermarket to pick up some bits and pieces on Saturday morning and she asked me to pull up the car well away from the store. I did so, wondering exactly why and discovered the reason when I unbuckled my seatbelt. She unzipped me and whipped out my cock. She dived onto it and began to give me a blowjob. She only stopped when I pointed out that anyone walking down the pavement which overlooked the carpark could see us and we’d get arrested.

It wasn’t very practical, but a really naughty experience. I almost let her carry on and finish the job but decided a criminal record for gross indecency was something we could do without.

It’s not always that easy to get in the mood, especially when you’re under pressure from factors outside your control. That is why I am writing this as a follow-up to Monday night’s “Sex Under Pressure” post.

Human beings are complicated animals and when they’re feeling down it affects every aspect of their lives. It would be nice to flick a switch and block out all the bad stuff outside so that we could enjoy ourselves when we’re at home with our loved ones. Because we can’t do that, we have to devise ways of distracting ourselves from the negative influences and allowing ourselves the space to relax before intimacy and sex can happen. I’ll try and go through a few of the things that you can do to ensure that you enjoy your time at home with your partner.

Some of the things you can do are obvious but worth restating because they are so easy to miss.

First of all phones. Turn them off, all of them we have a landline and three mobile phones now. Any one of them going off while we’re getting in the mood is going to destroy the moment.

The Internet and email is surprisingly distracting for us too. Our study is next to our bedroom, so the ping of an email arriving is like the bell to Pavlov’s dog. Your mind often wants to “pop next door to see what’s come in …” Even if you don’t react to this event you might still be thrown by it. Turn off your PCs.

Lower your expectations; Not every encounter you have has to result in sex. Especially if you’ve got long-standing problems or had a particularly bad day it may be that expecting sex and trying to make it happen is the best way to destroy the evening. It’s a medically recognised fact that the expectation of sex can actually stop it happening – it’s been referred to as apprehensive expectation.

In extreme cases you should try to reduce your expectations of each other to nothing. If you can succeed in lowering your expectations enough then you’re not going to be disappointed if one or both of you is too tired to indulge in foreplay or too tense to actually make love in the way that you’d like. Whatever happens, happens and if you can both live with that the tension that might have built up around the perceived erosion of your sex life will slowly disappear with each encounter.

Some people take great solace and comfort in routine and order, but routines in sex is something that I can’t personally understand. It’s too easy to get into a routine, be that in the frequency of your love making or what you do when you and your partner are having sex. Small changes can make a big difference and big, unwelcome changes can cause big problems if your partner is not ready for it. He might be ready one day to be led around the room with a lead and muzzle but for now just buy him a collar if you know what I mean LOL.

Above all be patient and listen to one another. You don’t need to, and very often shouldn’t analyse every tiny nuance of each other’s behaviour and personality. What you should do is allow your partner to express themselves, their worries, fears and expectations. Don’t feel that you need to proffer a solution to any of the issues that come up, that will just put pressure on you. Simply listen to and understand your other half, the rest should follow.

Gargantuan Breasts

We’re all for appreciating natural beauty over here at AlexSuze. So any campaign, by anyone to promote the love of natural curves is something we’d really like to support.

Strangely I have mixed feelings about this particularly unusual sculpture by Chinese artist Shu Yong. It’s supposed to encourage his fellow Chinese to love the natural form of their bodies rather than opting for plastic surgery as an apparently increasing number of his country men and women are doing.

Does a huge pair of fake boobs really do that? I suppose so by pointing out that really over-size implants or other forms of extreme surgery detract from your attractiveness rather than enhance it.


Ann Nicole Smith

Katherine JenkinsCould someone pinch me please!

Ann Nicole Smith is one of the last people that I’d think about if I were looking for the muse for an opera. Or is it?

In a life that can be best described as interesting and tempestuous, and a death that was perhaps even more dramatic I suppose there’s plenty of material for an opera. After all operas require a huge amount of drama and events that lend themselves to dramatisation and some mouthy bird belting out the lyrics. (Don’t take mouthy bird too seriously, it’s not meant in a derisory fashion, I mean look at Katherine Jenkins)

The bottom line of course will be how the subject matter is handled. It would be wrong to beatify Anna Nicole Smith, saint she wasn’t, but she doesn’t deserve to have her life used to make a few bucks if the opera turns out to be a trashy cheap thrill ride.

Read all about it here.


Filthy Dirty Encounters

Word of warning dear readers, I will be asking for a little reader participation regarding this post. 😉

I purchased. I’ll start that again. I took out a loan to purchase my car and signed away my life for the next five years, about a year and a half ago. Bloody hell is there really that long to go on the payments. 🙁

Unfortunately the car is a necessary evil. I can’t get to work without it and I need to work to pay for it. But I also have a confession to make. Since getting the car I have only washed the outside twice that I can recall.

Lucky for me the colour doesn’t show the dirt up as much as others do.

Which brings me to the point of my post. Over the past week I have been noticing although not really registering remarks written on other dirty vehicles. You know the sort, comments like “clean me”.

This week I saw a works van for Carillion with “living the dream” written on it. I’m not sure if that is a slur on this construction company and the economic climate. If anyone has any ideas let me know.

I’ve seen a few suggesting that someone cleans the vehicle but the one I saw tonight had me laughing in the queue for the roundabout. It was written on the back of a mobile photographers estate car.

It read “Jenny loves dogging”. As I pulled alongside the car I was eager to see who was driving it. It was a blonde girl…I wonder if she was called Jenny. Lol

If you have seen any good ones written on vehicles post them in the comments and I will make a post out of them to share with you all.

Big Pink And Even More Fun

AlexSuzeThere are a couple of things I want to bring to your attention.

Firstly, for bloggers and readers alike there is a great resource for you to promote your site and increase your traffic. Adult Blog Hub has been around for a few years now and searches well at Google.

There are two sides to ABH, the first featuring blog postings and the second a sex blog Toplist which you can promote your site on. If you haven’t already joined, get over there now and meet some great like minded people who want to share with you.

The second thing I want to mention is Sex Toys Buzz which is a great resource for adult product reviews and not just vibrator reviews. You don’t have to try before you buy because we do all of that for you and via saucy encounters bring you the low down.

In addition Sex Toys Buzz also runs a monthly newsletter and if you subscribe you are in with a chance to win free sex toys every month. There are no fees or writing challenges to take part in and you don’t even have to pay for the shipping. Everything is taken care of in confidence with the supplier.

This month’s toy is the Don Wand Bent Pink Graduate Glass Dildo. And it is good I have tested it so I know. You will have to hurry over to enter in to the draw whilst there is still time because this month is drawing to a close.

Good luck! 😉

Being Eaten To The Extreme

I think I found one of the most surprising and unexpected fetishes today. It’s “vorarephilia”, the fetish for eating or being eaten by others. It’s not necessarily about cannibalism, as it appears to centre around the act of eating or being eaten in one piece.

So this is all about fantasy. While you could, if you were so inclined (i.e. a raving nut job) indulge in cannibalism, actually being swallowed alive or swallowing someone alive is a practical impossibility.

There are various pieces of artwork around the place with vore themes but if the philia itself isn’t unusual enough there are even sites with animal vore images and videos like this one (not for those of you of a squeamish disposition) A word of caution here. While the site “” seems clean, some of the sites it links to are flagged as dangerous by our anti-virus software. The risks of browsing very specialists sites I suppose.

The fiction I’ve found around this fetish can be pretty heavy going and is only going to be of anything other than academic interest to a tiny minority of you. However if you’re interested in very unusual fetishes it’s worth investigating. While some stories deal with the devouring of people via the obvious route of the mouth, others like this one describe a woman eating her lover via her vagina.

And yes for all of you who hate compound Latin/Greek names out there this is another one 😛 from voorare and???í? (philia).

Tit Wanks And Softer Skin

The weather takes it out of my skin at this time of year. Cold winds and indoor central heating all conspire to try and turn me in to a prune. I’ve never been one to pamper myself and rarely use moisturiser, I think mainly because all I want to do when I step out of the shower is to towel dry and get dressed.

Recently we reviewed a wonderful fragranced gift set with edible lotions and potions and one of my favourites from that set is the almond oil. You can rub it in and lick it straight off without fear of a tummy upset. And the perfume is to die for.

My love of almonds stems way back in to my childhood. On special occasions it used to be the fashion to have almond fruits on the dinner table. These were little oranges, lemons and various other fruits made of marzipan and painted with food colouring to make them look real.

I’m sure they must have been full of E numbers back then. No wonder I had so much energy as a child. Lol When I was old enough to shop by myself I would buy a block of marzipan and slice pieces off to eat. Then when I felt sick I would wrap it back up and place it in the fridge until the next time I fancied a piece.

So when we got the gift set to try it was only natural that my attentions should turn to the oil. When it heats the aroma infuses in the air and makes me feel aroused and vibrant, horny. 😉

I took a shower following work on Friday evening and asked Alex if he would rub some of the almond oil in to my back, it had been dry and itchy. Alex turned on the bedside lamp to provide a little ambient light and took the bottle of oil from his bedside drawer.

I took my hair back in to a ponytail and lay on my stomach. I heard the top being unscrewed and then I jumped as each cold drip made contact with my warm flesh. Alex can be such a tease, he would normally warm the oil between his hands. I yelped as each drop hit and promised to get my revenge later.

His hands started to glide all over my back and up to my shoulders kneading as they went. I could feel the tension being released from me as his hands went to work. The essence of the oil and my state of complete relaxation pushed me towards arousal. I could feel it enveloping me.

“Roll over Suze”, instructed Alex and I rolled on to my stomach. Alex gave me a wry smile as his gaze fixed upon my two fleshy mounds. My nipples were hard and erect and he gave each in turn a kiss and a quick bite. I giggled.

This time he poured the oil on to his palm and rubbed his hands together before placing them on to my breasts. My breasts were now glistening in the light from the lamp. He ran his hands up my sternum, out over my shoulders and then down on to my breasts. Alex started to roll them in the oil, massaging and kneading gently.

It felt so good as he tweaked my nipples making them stand proud and firm. He was now kneeling to the side of me in his boxer shorts and the lycra wasn’t hiding anything from me. He was hard inside there.

As he continued to massage my breasts I slipped his cock out of the top of his shorts. He was starting to dribble, a small bead of cum was collecting at the tip of his hardon. I scooped it up with my index finger and placed it in my mouth provocatively. “You are a dirty bitch”!, he exclaimed.

I know…

I slipped his boxers down his thighs and Alex sat on the bed as I eased them off and threw them on to the bedroom floor. He was rock hard and his cock was now bouncing around in front of me as he straddled my torso. He pushed my boobs together and began to run his cock up and down the valley between them. I knew what he wanted. 😉

I passed him some tissue to wipe his hands and took hold of my breasts, pushing them together to form a deep valley. Alex didn’t need an invitation he pushed his cock between my boobs and I closed the gap around them. Creating a cock sandwich.

Alex smiled at me and started to push his way through my fleshy mounds. As his head appeared his foreskin pulled back revealing his plump dark pink helmet. “I’m a bit dry”, he divulged. I spat on to the tip of his cock before he withdrew it back between my tits once more.

Now lubed he started to fuck my tits with slightly more vigour and I watched as he pumped into me. Don’t ask me why but I love to watch him wanking between my boobs. I was getting wet and excited so I crossed my legs and started to run my thighs together in rhythm with his thrusts.

He was really going for it and I almost lost my grip on the oil and had to retrieve my right breast before it escaped. 🙂 I had him firmly in my grasp again and Alex was getting close, his head was in it’s I’m about to come position and his eyes were closed. He was panting now, trying to hold himself back to build to a more powerful orgasm.

In and out, in and out then…it was like someone had just stabbed him in the back. He arched his back, threw back his head and little white gems propelled on to my chest. One even caught me squarely on the chin. Great shot! I scooped it up and put my finger to Alex’s lips. He sucked my finger clean as his last orgasmic thrust waned.

He fell back on to the bed as I admired his Pollock style creativity.

From Bukkake To Dogging And Everything In Between

Alex and I settled down between the sheets last night after a heavy day at work and writing for the site to watch some porn, to be precise the DVD we hadn’t watched which we must have purchase a couple of months ago.

Nice surprise and up to now a good fetish based production. 😉

I digress. We watched for a while and then things got the better of us and I assumed the position in front of the television on all fours. Alex gave me a good pounding, resulting in several orgasms for me and just the one for him. Lol All whilst watching the lovely Jay Snake…use his snake.

Go on, you just knew that was coming didn’t you.

We switched off our PC’s afterwards and settled to watch some television briefly before turning out the light. Alex flicked through the satellite channels and happened upon the Dave channel which shows some good programmes from time to time.

The programme they were showing was called pulling. I had never seen this before. It features three women living in a house together, one of whom (Donna) was going to be married. I yet have to find out what happened there.

Karen is like a liberated loose cannon and really has no shame. My kind of girl. 😉 Then there is Louise who by her very innocence is a hilarious character. She surfs the net in search of endangered species to adopt and clicks on a link entitled “men hung like elephants”; thus entering the world of porn.

At one point she asks her fellow housemates what Bukkaki is and then if it is spelled with an I or an E. Lol She somehow ended up sitting in a car with a guy she met in a chat room who looks decidedly dodgy.

This is confirmed when another guy stands in front of the vehicle and you just see the visuals from behind him. He stands there appearing to wank in front of the car. They are at a dogging venue.

This programme is hilarious and has to be seen, so much so that I stayed up way too late to watch it. I need to check if they air it earlier in the evening.

Uniform Fetish

Nurse Mary by *Drakenborg on deviantART

I was channel hopping the other day and happened across a re-run of “On the Busses” follow the link if you’re too young to remember the show, or it never aired in your part of the world. Like a lot of comedy of its time it was very peculiarly English in its humour and has dated to the extent that it’s unwatchable except as a TV curio. It’s even gone past the point where I can get nostalgic about being sent to bed before it came on because it was too risqué.

What got me thinking was not the music hall performances and jokes, or the bawdy, single-dimensional humour and even shallower characters, but the uniforms. I can just remember when bus drivers wore uniforms, not just black trousers and a corporate blue shirt, but full uniforms. Polished buttons peaked caps, the works. Same for the police, they still have a dress uniform, but that is incompatible with their role as a modern police force. It’s knife vests and utility belts replacing the jackets and truncheons.

I actually rather miss the uniforms, you knew if someone had a uniform they should be listened too, had some authority. There’s a classic Radio Times cover from the 80s, the week they first showed the apocalyptic drama “Threads“, based on the effects of a nuclear attack on a British city. It was a still of a man carrying an army issue SLR against a chain link fence, his face was bandaged and he wore a uniform. He was keeping some of the survivors of the attack penned up in a stockade. He wasn’t a soldier, he was a traffic warden, even the most hated pavement-pounders in England were seen as authority figures were society to break down.

So what’s the point of this semi-maudlin walk down memory lane? Well, there’s always been a fascination in this country with uniforms, maybe it’s elsewhere in the world too. In the UK it seems to be a very strong fascination with what lies beneath. Is that starched shirt and tightly buttoned tunic holding in a wanton sex maniac? Is that hair, so tightly pinned into a bun on matron’s head concealing a matchless passion that once unleashed would consume any man in its path?

It’s a fascination/fetish that’s reinforced by films and the media, though over time the way in which it has been portrayed has changed according to the decade. Looking back just after WWII uniforms were ubiquitous, police, fire fighters, ambulance drivers, nurses, traffic wardens, bus drivers, bus conductors, bus inspectors, doormen the list goes on.

The horrors of the first world war began the ascendancy of the power of the working man, but did not shatter the structure of British society. The hell of the trenches, the mud, disease and death meant the survivors refused to be subservient to the traditional ruling classes. It did not however lead to revolution as in Russia or the desperation that drove the German people to embrace National Socialism. The order of society evolved rather than collapsed and authority figures remained. Granted the lampooning of authority thrived as it has done throughout English history, but it acted as a safety valve preventing calamitous changes.

The second world war finished the process that the 1914-18 war had started. Now it was open season on authority figures. I’m not going to drone on about the undermining of traditional values, because some traditional values were complete rubbish, no, this is where I return to my original thoughts about uniforms.

The “Carry On” films, The Goons, Python and satirical humour in the printed media and on TV all slowly undermined the authority of uniformed figures. Almost without exception they did it by one of two means. Depicting uniformed figures as objects of ridicule (because they were stupid, pompous or out-dated e.g. The Life And Death Of Colonel Blimp Powell/Pressberger 1943) or making them into sex objects.

We’re now at the stage were uniforms mean something different than they did 50 years ago. You can now buy a uniform to go to a party as a naughty nurse or a WPC. You can buy it in rubber if you like. Military style latex couture is both fashionable and widely available on the web.

Our attitude towards uniforms is a blend of the comic and a sense that by say, having sex with that WPC you are somehow breaking out from the confinement that society places upon us all. Maybe you have a thing for black leather trousers, boots, long coats and riding crops? Is it that you want to be dominated, oppressed and shown no mercy? Or is it just a bit of fun?

When a uniform forms part of a Scene in sexual play it can be a powerful totem, a visual shorthand for each participant’s role and a sensual augmentation during the scene. Whether it’s leather rubber, or PVC a uniform can become a necessary and integral part of the Scene.

Well it’s late and I’m knackered but if any of you have thoughts on this I’d be very interested to hear them.

Clit Wanking And Pussy Jumping

Alex called me to let me know he would be a little late so when I got home I stripped out of my clothes and took a shower. The water in the shower helped to sooth away the stresses of the day and when I emerged clean and fresh I felt much better.

I towel dried my hair and wrapped it up on top of my head in a dry one. My hairdryer went caput the other day so it was down to the old fashioned way of drying it.

There was still around 30 minutes to kill before Alex arrived home so I made my way across the landing to the bedroom. We had made a discovery the other night. There was a porn DVD which we hadn’t seen. Don’t ask me how. It just turned up and it was one we knew nothing of. This could be because we buy more than one to save money.

Remembering the film I put it in to the CD drive and turned on the television as I lay back. The first scene kicked off and it was a delightful image. Jay snake hands tied above his head and suspended by the rope. Naked except for his leather and chain belt and hood.

What happened next got my attention. He had a girl on her knees sucking away at his cock and another behind him flogging him with a leather whip.

I was going to get dressed but decided to slip out of my robe and under the duvet. My intentions to watch a little of the first scene and then get up to make dinner for us. But I got absorbed by the scene unfurling before my eyes. Unusual for a porn film.

Next thing I knew I was reaching in to my bedside drawer. And you all know what I keep in there don’t you? I withdrew my clit vibe after a little furtling around. Strange how you get to know your toys via touch after a while. After all I wasn’t going to be taking my eyes of Snake for anything. 😉

Spitting on my fingers I ran them up between my pussy lips. Lubing my clit ready for action. With a press of the button the vibe kicked in to life. Flog and suck, flog and suck, flog… I’m not sure which Harmony DVD this is but it if HOT!

I start by moving the clit vibe up and down over my clit hood, gently pulling back the flesh and exposing my sensitive little nub as I pass over it. My feet are now crossed my hips tilted and my back pushing in to the bed. This focuses my nerve endings and ultimately my orgasm right deep in to my back.

Next I try moving the vibe from side to side over my swollen clit. This has a dramatic effect and I twitch with the intensity of the stimulation, my nerve endings responding. It’s like playing a piano, if you hit the keys right you produce the most wonderful music. And boy do I like to compose.

I shudder as I build the intensity.

Then Bang! Something hits my feet then releases and repeats the movement. This is followed by a scurrying around on top of the duvet.

It is only the bloody cat jumping around my feet. Attacking them with his claws and jaws. The more I move to send him on his way the more excited he is now he thinks I am “really” playing.

The moment has now gone.

Aren’t cats great?

The You Tube Video They Didn’t Want You To See

This isn’t adult, but it’s bloody funny. Courtesy of the Metro I found this story last night.

What sort of idiot posts up a video of the different stages of growing cannabis plants on YouTube and leaves the odd clue as to who dunnit?

It’s been seen before with people videoing themselves driving at ludicrous speeds and the police finding out who they are from IP addresses, and DSL service provider records.

However I suspect this guy had been sampling too much of his own crop because he posted it to YouTube under his own name.