Monthly Archives: November 2009

Talk Dirty To Me

From time to time given the amount of smut I read it is inevitable that I will encounter some really badly written erotica. You know the sort, bad scenario, inadequate scene setting, repetative narrative and every thing in between.

I read some stories and the plot just doesn’t work at all because if the author thought it through it would be physically impossible. And some are just plain pompous twaddle, a collection of thoughts and words penned to impress.

Today I happened upon a site which actually awards this kind of stuff, it’s on the Literary Review site and it’s called the “Bad Sex In Fiction Award”. The award was conceived by Auberon Waugh in 1993 and I quote “to draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel, and to discourage it”.

Check out this years nominations here, there are some really classy passages and some damn right weird ones too

Rim Me Baby Lick That Ass

If ever anyone had to fix my computer they would be amazed if they could look back through my search strings. Some of them are so bizarre but bring up some really interesting content which in turn I deliver fresh to your door. You see if there weren’t kinky people like me out here doing this you would miss out on so much. Lol However, if a family member or friend should need to borrow my PC they may be in for a surprise. Today’s search has brought up a gem. If you love chocolate and are in to rimming it is the perfect treat. The devil inside me is prompting me to purchase a box of these and put them on the table after Christmas dinner. If you want to get hold of a box here is the link and if you do, come back and tell me what fun you had with them. *giggle*

Dirty Fucking Slut!

Before I start I’d like to put this post into perspective. I’ve met a few porn stars in recent years. I don’t mean that I’ve got a signed picture from them at a PA, I mean I’ve actually met them, talked to them had a drink with them, had dinner with them … Hell, I even have some of their numbers on my mobile phone. I have a pile of business cards from them on the bookshelf in the study.

They are without exception perfectly normal people. On the whole nice, friendly, normal people. The difference between them and the people I deal with in my day job is that they have sex for a living and those in my day job don’t. Well except in some cases where they will do anything to advance their career.

Now considering that porn stars, who are often regarded (incorrectly for the most part) as depraved and somehow different from the rest of the world, are in truth normal people why is it that they seem to be asked to depict the most degrading of acts by some porn producers?

Apparently because the public demand a certain type of pornography. Is that so? Do the public really want their porn to be filled with dialogue that is completely derisory towards the performers? That’s mainly towards females but males can be verbally abused in porn too.

I think there is a difference between calling someone a slut during the rising passion of sex, be that as part of a couple’s dirty talk or a role playing scenario and the sort of dull and unimaginative dialogue that some directors seem to insist that performers churn out in some porn movies.

It’s the same with some of the sexual activities they are acting out. To a greater or lesser extent Suze and I have tried most things. If we like them we try them again. If we don’t we just put them down to experience. But in the case of some sexual practices despite liking them we only do them at certain time because everything has to be just right.

The problem with some porn is that to ensure it ticks all the boxes some of the more unusual stuff is shown all the time to pique the interest of the audience without recourse to such archaic disciplines as ingenuity and good direction. This leads to the over-emphasis of some aspects of sex that for most people are an occasional indulgence or only carried out in the heights of the most intense sessions of love making being portrayed a regular if not mandatory part of sex.

Everyone has the capability of being the dirty bastard/slut from time to time and when this happens naturally they will enjoy it. Guys, I know it’s porn not real life but if I see another ass to mouth, spitting into a girl’s gapping ass or roughly jiggling a girl’s boobs as if it turns her on I’ll scream.

Big Bad Butt Plug Action

Teddy Bear Butt PlugAlex and I have experimented with quite a few anal toys now, well, Alex more so than me. I am working on it, presently I am able to take a small butt plug but nothing too serious and I have attempted anal sex a couple of times. You need to be extremely relaxed to have your ass fucked and at the moment work is winding me up so much that I am quite literally a tight ass. Not that it was slack before. Lol

Following in the vain of my latest posts I checked out butt plugs on Ebay and came across this one.

All I can say is I just couldn’t, could you?

Masturbating Until It Really Hurts

AlexSuze.comI have some strange thoughts I know, don’t remind me but can frigging be bad for your health. I was reading an article last night about vibration white finger or as it is medically known, Raynaud’s Disease.

The symptoms can be range from tingling which continues after the machinery is switched off (Oh, bugger that happens all the time) Lol to the body part turning white and possibly losing it.

So, I return back to my original question, can you get vibration white clit? Have I anything to worry about because I love my vibrating clit toys. I must admit that I haven’t seen any signs of an adverse reaction to my sex toys.

If anything should happen to my clit, I don’t know what I would do. It gives me hours of pleasure when I’m feeling randy.

I think the benefits far out weighs the risk, I for one feel a lot more calm and composed when I have come. Which is good for all and may help alleviate stress, perhaps we ought to be allowed to do it during our coffee breaks at work. Now, there’s a thought. 😉

Watching Me Get Fucked


We had a late night last night, no nothing dirty before you ask. Someone pissed us off and we both settled down to sleep feeling like shit.

But this morning when I awoke I left it all behind me and noticed that Alex had made a start while I slept off my anger. He was busily testing his latest masturbator for review. He didn’t want to wake me but I wouldn’t have missed out on watching him, I love to see him play with himself.

So he is working his cock and the cat comes to lay next to me on the edge of the bed and takes an un-natural interest in Alex’s new toy. He watches him over me as his hand moves up and down over his cock.

By this time Alex is very hard and wants to engage me in a good seeing to. And I don’t object. I slide over to his side of the bed where Alex enters me missionary and starts to pump away.

Meantime the cat just lays there looking at us with a slightly bemused look on his face. Moments later he jumps of the bed and disappears from view, which I am glad about I don’t like being watched by the cat it just seems wrong somehow.

So I’m there getting a good hard fucking, trying to avoid my head being banged against the bedhead as I slip towards it with the power of his thrusts. Alex then takes hold of my left leg, withdraws from me and flips me on to my side.

As I flip I notice the bloody cat has repositioned himself at the other side of the bed and is sitting next to it staring at us. I giggle and point him out to Alex who was eagerly pushing back in to me and taking up position.

I’m not sure if it was as good for the cat as it was for me but moments later I was coming and making enough noise to scare him off. lol

Sperm At The Seaside

Ilfracombe in Devon have got some free publicity after they decided to change their town’s logo to update its images. £5000 later they have nice simple blue log that they say features a stylised fish or dolphin motif.

Now I don’t know about all you guys but me and a lot of other people think the “fish” looks like a sperm. However the council have decided that the logo is staying.

You can find out more about Ilfracombe from the council’s website here.

Down And Very Dirty

AlexSuze.comThe rain spattered across the side window of the cab, driven at the glass by a bitterly cold north-easterly wind. Her legs were cold and wet from the wait at the taxi rank, even the arms of her new acquaintance had failed to keep the cold at bay.

She peered through the window, the water running down the pane distorting the already twisted world outside into a scene that Dali would have appreciated. They were passing through the red light district, girls no older than herself, and some much younger, plied their trade in short skirts and dangerously high heels. She noticed with interest that one girl wore a jacket identical to one she had almost bought a week before.

She pitied them and simultaneously felt repulsed by them. Letting men do that to them for money. Eww! She sank back into his arms and let the taxi carry them to her flat.

The four of them fell out of the taxi onto the pavement outside her front door. After a short altercation about the fare, which was resolved when they all realised they were too drunk to read the taximeter properly, they paid the driver and made their way inside quietly. As quietly as it is possible for four drunken revellers to do anything. They all followed her through the communal hallway and up the first flight of stairs to Candice’s flat.

Inside Candice dug out cans of lager, deciding to hold back the vodka until later, and distributed them to her guests. Ian and Dawn had been together for a while, she had known Dawn since they both started school together. Ian had always been around but was a couple of years older than them both and hadn’t really figured in either of their lives until he started taking Dawn out about six months previously.

Candice’s boyfriend had been introduced to her by Ian. Was he her boyfriend? she thought. When does he become a boyfriend instead of just a series of dates? She decided a third date meant boyfriend, so not a boyfriend yet then. He was called Tom, though she kept calling him Tim. Tim was two, no three boyfriends back and although she’d laughed it off so far she told herself to be careful so as not to piss him off. She had seen what he could do when someone pissed him off. A bouncer had tried to throw him out of a pub on their first date, Tom pushed him down a flight of stairs. They had managed to dart down an alley before the police had arrived and escaped a night in the cells.

Candice turned up the music as loud as she dared and settled down on the sofa with Tom. The Christmas lights were still up and would be well into the new year, they illuminated the room just enough to see by. Tom pulled a pouch of tobacco from his jacket and from within it produced a pack of large cigarette papers and a slab of something brown and resinous.

From the other jacket pocket he produced his beloved Zippo lighter and warmed one end of the brown slab before crumbling it liberally into one of the papers and adding a lean sprinkling of tobacco. He rolled the joint, licked the paper with a glistening tongue and tapped a roach into the end.

Tom passed Candice the joint and lit it for her. She drew the first papery smoke from it as the twist in the end was consumed and expelled it, then she drew deeply on the joint, holding her breath and passing it to Dawn.

The joint did the rounds a couple more times, and was followed by two or was it three more. The bottle of Vodka from under the sink in the kitchen appeared, though Candice couldn’t remember having retrieved it.

Time slipped by like an eel, dark and slippery. Candice was shocked to hear a firework detonate outside and looked at her mobile phone. “It’s not twelve yet!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Exclaimed Ian. The explosion had made him start, jolting a hot piece of resin from the end of the joint and allowing it to sear its way through his shirt and into the soft, sensitive skin of his stomach.

“Stupid fuckers are early.” Said Tom, his voice slow and deliberate, the sentence terminated by a wide grin that showed no signs of ending even after several seconds.

Minutes later it was twelve and with the television showing the revellers in Edinburgh, London and numerous other places across the UK cheering in the new year. They all broke into the traditionally garbled rendition of Auld Lang Syne.

It ended in a kiss between the girls and their respective partners, which developed into a face-eating competition. Dawn rolled onto the floor with Ian on top of her. Her hands pulling at her knickers until they were removed. Ian’s hands groped her breasts through her thin top.

Candice and Tom rolled on the sofa. His hard cock pressed into her leg through his jeans. She was wet, her pussy yearning to be filled by someone, something, anything. His strong hands pushed up her pink lycra top to expose her boobs and erect nipples. His mouth descended on them, sucking and nibbling like a starving man.

She rubbed herself on his leg, clitoris tingling from the sensation of wet silk on denim. She pushed him away and reached down to release the cock that she needed so badly. The sounds of Ian and Dawn cavorting on the carpet made her want it even more, now, hard and fast.

Tom managed to slide his trousers to his shins before Candice was pulling his cock towards her pussy. Her short skirt was rolled up to her waist, panties pulled to one side. Tom mumbled “Turn over”. She complied and felt his hard phallus slide clumsily between her butt cheeks and press against the dry opening of her ass.

“Ow!” She complained.

Tom tried again and this time entered her pussy, a few strokes and he was fully inside her, her buttocks pressing against the base of his cock.

Candice heard Dawn moaning. Candice had heard her cum before and wasn’t surprised to hear Ian grunt and shoot his load a moment later.

Tom took a little longer. Candice had cum, but Tom seemed to be taking forever and now she was becoming dry, her left labia seemed to be abrading against the skin of his cock. “Ah! Ah!” she shrieked in time with his thrusts. Tom took this as another orgasm and carried on. It was a merciful release from the increasing pain when he came a couple of minutes later.

He slumped onto her back, his weight pressing her into the nicotine impregnated velour of the sofa. He whispered something that might have been “That was fucking great” before crawling off her and struggling to pull up his trousers.

Candice lay motionless until the stinging sensation caused by his semen running out of her and contacting her sore labia forced her to go make her way to the bathroom.

They all drank and smoked into the small hours before drifting into unconsciousness.

Candice woke in Tom’s arms. Her waking dream was of a shopping trip with the girl she had seen the night before through the taxi window. They were shopping for clothes. The girl was advising her about “What the punters like”.

Tom farted and rolled onto his back where he began to snore. The unexplained vomit stain on his shirt stank almost as bad as his breath. She pushed his inert form away from her.

A tear welled in Candice’s eye.

Fucked In Fishnets

Red BasqueWe ordered a Chinese on the way home and sate it with a bottle of wine. It been a hard day, in more ways than one. She slipped upstairs for a shower while I dealt with my emails on my laptop.

The thought of her naked and soapy kept distracting me until I could stand it no longer. I made my way to the bathroom and entered the hot steamy room. Water and soap spattered the inside of the glass through which I could make out her outline. I pulled of my T-shirt and opened the door. “Hello, feeling dirty?” she asked. My hand answered now resting on her pussy. I massaged her clit with my finger, she squirmed and shifted her feet squeaking on the shower tray. “Don’t.” she said. “Why?” I asked, thinking she didn’t mean it. “Save it for later.”

A little deflated I returned to my emails, then when she had left the bathroom I showered. I was patting myself dry when the door opened. She walked towards me across the tiled floor, red high heels clicking against the hard surface. She reached out, red PVC gloved hand grabbing my cock. “Come with me” she said softly.

I followed her into our bedroom, enchanted by the seems in the back of her red fishnet stocking, tantalised by the silk of her knickers stretched across her round buttocks. The lacing of her corset was pulled tight, nipping her in, long chestnut hair falling in waves over her shoulders. The room was lit by dimmed uplighters and a red candle at each side of the bed.

“Lay down” she said, it was half request half instruction. Who would have refused either way. My cock was throbbing, the sensation of hot blood filling my member so strong I thought if I concentrated I could count the corpuscles. I watched her step out of the satin knickers, wondering how wet they would be, imagining the scent.

When I was horizontal she straddled me, not my cock, but my face. Her labia were a few millimetres from my lips. I needed no instruction as to what I should do next. My tongue parted her lips and wound its way inside. She lowered herself slightly to allow me easier access. Her outer lips were soft and moist from the shower, her inner lips wet and fragrant from her excitement. I pointed my tongue to allow her to settle on to it. Inside her I swirled it round a little probing until the frenulum under it hurt.

She leant her body forward presenting her swollen clitoris for my attention. I lapped at the tiny bundle of intensely sensitive nerve endings, occasionally teasing her labia, biting at her fleshy folds. My face was again covered in her juices, I imagined it glistening in the light from the candles.

Her pussy lifted away from me, she was moving down my body. Her opening aligned itself with the moist tip of my cock then paused. I could see the lust in her eyes, matched by the desire to fuck in mine. Millimetre by millimetre she slid down my shaft until she was filled and my cock was completely inside her. A perfect fit.

Another pause, she was still except for the contractions of her pussy on my cock. When she began to move on me her strokes were slow, but in only a few seconds her lust took over and she bounced on me like a cowgirl riding an unbroken stallion. Then the stallion bucked and threw her off. She landed on the mattress on her back.

Now I mounted her hooking my arms under her knees, bending her double. Her stocking covered legs and red heels waved beside my head, her swollen pussy lips beckoned me. I pushed into her slamming without finesse or respite. She squealed with delight and soon moaned my name as she came. I felt her squeeze me, my signal to release the tension from my aching balls. I grunted and continued to pump in and out, the tenderness of the tip of my cock no barrier to my thrusting. Each stroke became sweet agony accompanied by a guttural growl.

Eventually I collapsed and rolled to my side of the bed. We lay in a tangle of arms and legs for a while, my wet cock on her thigh, her pussy flowing with cum and the air filled with the scent of our sex.

Shagged In Stockings

The sex before work really set me up for the day. I resented having to go into the office but the memory of morning shag anaesthetised me from the worst of the morning’s stresses.

The eleven o’clock meeting changed my laid-back state of mind. She was sitting at the far end of the boardroom table toying with her pen. To a casual observer she seemed to be taking notes, but I suspected she was doodling when her pen was actually on the paper in front of her. For most of the time she played with it, resting it on her lips, rolling it across the red-painted entrance to her mouth. Occasionally her tongue would flick out and tease me a little more.

By the end of the meeting I was shuffling restlessly in my chair and hoped to hell that one of my subordinates had taken enough notice of the action points so I didn’t have to follow them up.

We dispersed across the office. I returned to my room and waited for ten minutes before calling her in. When she entered and closed the door behind her I saw her for a moment in the shirt and socks she had worn this morning when we had made love.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“As if you didn’t know.” I scolded her.

She sat on my side of the desk one hand grasping the wooden top on either side of her buttocks. I placed my hand on her knee, resting it there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her stockings before sliding it slowly up between her legs. She wriggled slightly to allow her skirt to ride up so my hand could travel all the way to the top of her thighs.

The heat up there was intense and accompanied by a humidity signalling a warm and friendly welcome. I wriggled two fingers inside her panties, sliding smoothly into her warm depths, aided by the copious lubrication.

She held my gaze as I massaged the walls of her vagina, gasping slightly when I brushed against her G-Spot. The heat of my cock on my thigh was palpable, the now stiff member attempting to burst out of my suit trousers.

“Take them off” I growled.

“Why, Mr …” she began.

“Just take them off you filthy cow.” I said, chuckling.

She stood up, her crotch next to my face, hitching up her skirt. I sniffed her pussy then placed a kiss on her mons through her panties. With two hands I pulled the waistband of her panties down to her knees. She put her hand on my shoulder to steady herself and stepped out of them.

“On the desk.” I instructed.

She obliged, laying back on the blotter. I remained seated, rolling my chair forward until I was near enough to lean forward and place my lips on her pussy. I began to lick her outer lips, near her opening to begin with, covering my face in her juices and tasting myself mixed in with them from our morning fuck. I moved upwards, seeking out her clitoris, finding it and making her squeal. I sucked on her bud, drawing it into my mouth with cruel suction and flicking it with my tongue. Her hands grasped my head, pulling it close to her, demanding the attention that I was only too willing to deliver.

I moved down again sliding into her pussy, my tongue teasing her entrance with firm thrusts, finding myself wishing I could delve deeper than my tongue would allow. Then finally I slid out of her cunt and for a moment teased her ass.

Breaking away from her snatch I stood up. I undid my trousers, letting them and my boxers fall to my ankles. I grabbed her calves pushing them backwards, lifting her buttocks up so her pussy pointed towards me but as in the morning feeling the angle was a little too steep.

It hardly mattered. Her teasing in the boardroom and the smell of her on my face had me at the edge already and the sensation of sliding into her caused me to cum almost at once.

“Oh, yes sir” she laughed as she felt my release. I pressed my cock into her, hardly moving, enjoying the shared warmth and wetness. Our mingled juices began to ooze out onto my balls and down the crease of her ass.

My phone rang, so I picked it up. “Yeah, can I call you back I’m in the middle of something …”

Screwed In Socks

Bed SocksWarmth is just warmth – right?


The warmth of a bed in the morning is like no other type of warmth, especially on a cold autumn morning. I could feel her against me, her legs naked her body covered in a short sleeved cotton shirt, one of my old shirts that she loved to wear and I loved to see her in. Something about women wearing your clothes …

I braved the cold and made us both a coffee. It was early, the sky outside still the inky black of night but we were both awake. I sat up in bed with my arm around her, both of us sipping at the steaming hot mugs.

Her hand slid into my lap, fingers curling around my cock. She held it, caressing its plump softness, the remnants of my waking erection. We didn’t speak, enjoying the silence of the early morning and the closeness of each others flesh. I could feel her woollen bed socks on my ankles, she always had such cold feet in the morning.

In her hand I began to stir, the soft flesh in her hand hardening and her fingers moving involuntarily along its increasing length. There was a transitional moment where she went from absently and unconsciously stroking my erection to a deliberate effort to stimulate me. The site and texture of my cock in her hand awakening desire within her, lagging somewhat behind that in me.

Her hand was still for a few minutes, only her index finger rubbing my frenulum, lubricated by silky smooth precum. She leant towards her bedside table to deposit her coffee mug on it then slide out of my arm and onto her front. Her head was turned on one side facing me, she smiled and invited me to join her, to join with her.

I slid under the covers, pushing my leg over her, coming to rest between her now splayed legs. My cock rested against the valley between her round butt cheeks. I felt the urge to gently hump the cleft in her buttocks. The copious supply of precum aided me in my indulgence, the memory of doing this and cumming over her back at her insistence a few weeks earlier filled my head. That wasn’t what she wanted now.

I drew my hips back until my cock was resting against her anus. I pushed forward a little, pressing against the tight ring of muscles. She yelped. “It’s OK.” I Chuckled, just kidding. “Maybe later …” she said.

Her hot, moist opening was only a couple of centimetres away, my cock found it with certainty and accuracy gained from innate familiarity with her body. She was flat on the mattress not wanting to rise up and let any more cold air into our warm linen refuge than was absolutely necessary. It made the entry awkward, the angle little too acute, and yet more arousing for the restriction and unusual sensations.

With more grind than bump I pushed into her pussy. She sighed and groaned with appreciation, clenching her muscles around my cock , at on point almost holding me immobile inside her. She giggled then released me to continue this strange and sensual fuck.

Her pussy was an ever-flowing river of feminine-scented juices. The heat our lovemaking generated between the sheets intensified the aroma so each movement of our bodies wafted a rich, hot wave of scent out into the cool air of the bedroom.

Her tone changed, he moans changing to gasps. The wetness in her became greater than before and the reason was obvious. She let out a long, slow, low moan, turning her face into the pillow and shouting out words that could have been “Yes, oh Yes!” but were too distorted by her orgasmic paroxysm to make out.

The excitement of the moment grabbed me and threw me hurtling into an orgasm myself. I wanted to thrust over and over but the odd angle and moisture of our union threatened to cause me to slip out of her so I pushed myself as deep inside her as I could and relished the deep contractions in my groin pumping cum deep inside her.

Fucking The Baby Sitter Again

In the Film Risky Business, Tom Cruise has a dream where he screws the babysitter on his parent’s dining table. The cops surround the house and get on the bullhorn. The senior negotiator (don’t ask me why this is a hostage situation requiring police attendance) shouts “… you are surrounded, get off the babysitter”. LOL

Hormones cause young men to have the most amazing and intricate fantasies. And those fantasies can be about anyone they even vaguely fancy. It’s a time in your life when you are asking your self questions like “Am I gay, straight or bi?”, “Do girls like me?”, “Is Darren pulling my leg when he says that you can get a blow job from a vacuum cleaner?”

Nobody should feel guilty about the regular and often graphic flights of fancy they have at that age.

When should you stop thinking like that? 18, 20, 30?

At some point you stop actually believing that you could do that thing with that girl with a bath full of jelly – sorry? That’s just me then? Gulp! – there has to be a point in your life when you realise that fantasy is not going to turn into reality, well not the really weird fantasies anyway.

What I would say is that you should never feel guilty about a fantasy you have (within obvious, sane parameters) because having those fantasies means your sexual brain is working and as we all know the brain is the body’s biggest sex organ. If you’re exercising that it has to be good for your partner and you.

Rubbing One Out

Keeley Hazel With A DuckI came (appropriate word lol) across this image of the gorgeous Keeley Hazell I’m not sure where now. It’s one of the images from her 2010 calendar and it had a certain kind of appeal to me.

Bet you can’t guess why!

Well, I’ll tell you just in caser your mind isn’t quite as naughty as mine. Her large bathroom buddy is very much like one of the adult toys produced by Big Teaze Toys. Their Rub My Duckie is a very popular vibrating toy as you can guess and he comes in a variety of guises too including BDSM.

The beauty about these toys is that your can leave them in the bathroom and nobody would know, although you may take a little longer than normal. 😉

You can check out the full range here.

Gaping Crazy

Gaping BlondeI love porn, always have and now there is more variety than ever although I have to say that it is still rather formulaic and male orientated, even the stuff produced by the girls because at the end of the day who are they selling it to?

I’m not a big fan of the stereotypical type of porn which finds it necessary to feature the elements below not necessarily in this order:

Showing your splayed lips and open ass to the camera for an indeterminate amount of time
Sucking in air though your teeth like you are in the middle of an asthmatic attack
Pussy slapping
Single finger entry

I don’t need to go on because the list is quite lengthy but you get my drift. All of the above actions don’t, I repeat don’t turn me on in the slightest.

And most of all I don’t get what it is with gaping. If I wanted to see up inside someone’s colon I would be watching casualty not porn. I can only imagine that girls who have such loose sphincters use one hell of a lot of anal anaesthetic, which would slow down muscle retraction.

In which case raises the question, does this mean that the guys doing the anal are numbed too? Which in turn answers another question I have, “why do guys have to slap their cocks on buttocks?”, could this be because they are attempting to sensitise them again.

This must make it really difficult to come as the feedback is removed…

I’m over analysing this aren’t I? Lol

Public Nudity In Australia

Sydney GirlThe Australians seem to be in to getting naked in public lately, only the other day I told you about the couple shagging in the clock tower and today we have a guy flashing.

Anthony Hadfield was accused of flashing two teenage girls in Albury’s Botanic Gardens but he told the police that he was “airing his penis because he had a rash”. He claimed that he hadn’t been masturbating and that he wasn’t aware that people had been passing him by in the gardens.

He was witnessed by two teenage girls who had been dropped off at the park to take photographs last September around 5pm. They had taken pictures of water when they noticed Hadfield aged 22. They noticed that he was holding his erect penis and walked away.

Another visitor reported his behaviour to the police. He appeared in court and was fined $250 by the magistrate who said he was concerned about Hadfield’s behaviour.

Allegedly two more serious charges of committing an act of indecency with someone under 16 had been dismissed previously on a technicality.

Is it me or is this guy a risk to the public? And you have to ask given the nature of the tow previous charges, why was his punishment so lenient? I hope for everyone’s sake that this guy has learned his lesson.

Eating Out My Pussy

Pierced Chocolate VaginaI’ve had a bit of a fun day at work today. I decided to search for fun ways with chocolate, naughty but nice. 😉 We are all familiar with chocolate boobs and willies, you can even cast your own life size willy with the help of your partner.

But a new one on me was the chocolate pussy, which apparently you can also cast from your own pudenda should you wish to. Why bother when you can buy one already made for you. I love this chocolate pussy it even has it’s own clit ring. Lol

If you come across any other interesting ways with chocolate email me and I will post them up to share with you all. You can tell we are on our way to Christmas can’t you.

Cum Flavoured Kisses

Alex is very good at going down on me. He has a clever technique of tongue flicks and licks which can bring me so close to orgasm. I don’t recall that we have ever achieved a climax through his oral ministrations but I have (pardon the pun) come very close. I’m not sure if it is as a result of the abuse my clit has had over the past few years or if I am just difficult to please orally but mechanical methods seem to work best for me.

Not to say that I don’t enjoy the warmth of his mouth upon my swollen labia and clitoris. An experience a toy cannot replicate, warm, sensuous licks… I digress.

And then as a sweet dessert to kiss him once he emerges from between your legs. To smell your own essence upon his face. He is marked with your very own fragrance and that makes me feel so horny. Should he kiss anyone else, they will be able to detect your scent on him.

That just reminded me of one occasion when we had been to bed for a bit of naughtiness one Saturday afternoon and Alex parents dropped in unexpected. I had to remind him to wash his face whilst I let them in. lol

You really don’t wan to be smelling of your girlfriends fanny when greeting your mum.

The reason I was spurred in to writing this post is because I rose from the bed one morning after a good hard fucking and noticed as I stood up that I left behind a reminder of our tryst.

A white kiss on the bedsheet…

Fucking a Mysterious Stranger

While walking across the office car park at lunch yesterday I wondered why, after ten days of feeling so utterly dejected I suddenly felt my spirits rise.

It was the sun. Yes we do have sun in England. At this time of year in particular it’s of a weak insipid variety. But the light does have a certain quality to it that you find nowhere else in the world. It may be the “Diet Coke” of sunlight, but it’s good British sunlight. A welcome relief from the actual and metaphorical grey bleakness of recent days.

So, with what I’ve decided is the first breath of spring, heralded by Apollo’s rather understated arrival, I wandered off for a walk around the landscaped area of the business district where I work. Don’t get too excited, we are not talking “Capability” Brown here, just lots of birch, blackthorn and willow planted along the side of a stream that runs for about two kilometres at the edge of the business park. Hidden from the road and rarely used.

In fact very rarely used as I discovered as I walked along the path. The track quickly turned from a beaten earth walkway surrounded by lush vegetation to a muddy, overgrown, treacherous path, hiding tree roots and a multitude of low growing sharp and stinging plant life.

At this point a lesser man, or some might say more intelligent man would have turned back. That man was not me. I was enjoying the solitude and the sunlight streaming through the bare branches.
Only the occasional muffled passage of a car reminded me that I was close to civilisation. But I find total solitude inviting when I’m in a pastoral setting, so I pressed deeper down the path.

The undergrowth in front of me stirred. Blackbird? Rabbit? The top of a furry head was visible briefly, topped with two bumps that might one day be horns. It disappeared below the level of the vegetation. I followed as stealthily as I could, watching for the telltale disturbances.

CRACK. So intent was I on my quarry that my head collided with a branch. Dazed and quite literally seeing stars I shook my head to clear it. Bad mistake. I cursed as the pain intensified, things started to get colourful, my vision distorted and I leant against the offending tree for support, rubbing my forehead.

“Are you alright”, said a quiet, but rich voice.

Startled, I dropped my hand and opened my eyes to be greeted by the sight of a dark haired girl, around 25 with warm brown eyes. And a nice pair of legs.

“I’m fine”, I replied, “Just clumsy, I was following something. Small furry, two little horns, you haven’t seen it ha…”. I stopped realising she was smiling at me, humouring me? “I must have hit that branch harder than I thought”. Beautiful full lips.

“It was probably a satyr, they are a nuisance at this time of year.”

“Pardon? A satyr?”, I asked, thinking I’d misheard her. That cleavage looks inviting.

“Satyr, companions of Pan …”, she said. The aroma of spring flowers and spring sex seemed to be emanating from her.

“I know what satyrs are, they aren’t real.”, I said petulantly, the pain in my head making me wince. Her sandals displayed her suckable toes beautifully.

“I think he’d disagree.”, she said nodding to my left shoulder. I felt a sharp pain as needle-like teeth pierced cartilage. “Aaargh!”

I grabbed the impish little creature and threw it across to the other side of the stream. It squealed and glared at me. I would have felt sorry for the child-like wood spirit, were it not for the blood that coloured its lips. My Blood.

A warm sticky sensation on my neck prompted me to raise my hand to my ear. She got there first, her delicate fingers caressing my wound. Her other hand slid around the back of my neck. I don’t know if she was doing something miraculous to my ear or I was distracted by the gentle touch of her fingers at the base of my skull, but the pain disappeared as she worked on me.

She moved closer and, standing on tiptoe, she brought her lips close to mine. Not touching yet, but close enough so that I could feel the heat of her body. Her succulent lips parted, ever so slightly. I pulled her to me. Through her white dress, light as gossamer I could feel her fresh, firm form. I could taste her, smell her, like I was part of her. She was at once both newborn and yet far from naïve.

My hands stroked her back and pulled her too me, lifting her from the floor. Her legs wrapped around my waist. Her hands worked quickly, deftly on my trousers. They fell to the floor exposing my obvious desire.

She raised herself up, pulling her dress to one side and lowering herself down onto my shaft. As I slid between her virginal lips she threw her head back and drew in a slow breath, only stopping when she had settled fully onto my sex.

With my help she began to move on me, tossing her dark hair from side to side. The sensation was overpowering, how I did not loose my balance I will never know. Every nerve ending was firing adding to the tsunami of tactile pleasure. Waves of colour washed over me, colours for which I don’t even have a name.

We looked into each other’s eyes, feeling the rising climax. Too soon? No, I couldn’t stand this intensity of pleasure for much longer. As she impaled herself on me for the final stroke I buried my face into her soft bossom and held her tight, growling with the intensity of the orgasm.

I looked up at her, still inside her. “What’s your name?”


“Don’t you have six sisters?”


“Are they all as generous as you?”

She kissed my forehead and I slumped against the tree. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them the throbbing in my temple had returned. But Maia had gone.