Monthly Archives: March 2014

Going Hard and Going Home

Steamy WindowImagine the scene, it’s Friday and I’m driving home from the office in my car, which I will explain at this point is a large Mercedes 4×4. This puts me quite high up and gives me the same view-point enjoyed by most large van drivers, though not quite as high as you’d get from the cab of  an HGV truck.

I was on a dual carriageway and being keen to get home was peeved to be stuck behind a queue of slow moving traffic, the drivers apparently half asleep and not quite at the speed limit. So I pulled out to overtake the convoy of “zombie drivers”. Unhelpfully a silver Mazda pulled out in front of me doing a speed that was little more than that of the convoy of undead bozos.

My initial annoyance at this manoeuvre soon turned into interest and then amusement as the front seat passenger leant across to the driver and reached out with her hand. Over the next kilometre she proceeded to mess around in his lap before her arm settled into a steady rhythm. His driving became erratic and his speed did not improve, dropping occasionally so I had to ease off the accelerator.

Eventually after about three kilometres the car in front gave a sudden lurch to the left and was rapidly corrected before the passenger’s hands got busy in the driver’s lap. He began to accelerate, perhaps realising the hold-up he’d created and allowed me to overtake the queue before I returned to the nearside lane. He stayed in the overtaking lane – do these people not read the Highway Code? Anyway his bad driving allowed me to pull alongside at the next roundabout and as I peeked inside the passenger compartment of the Mazda I caught sight of her collecting together a handful of tissues from his lap.

I don’t think she’d been helping him blow his nose.

Trichophilia, A Hair Fetish or Just Good Instinct?

Hannah Shaw HairI’ve always liked having my hair played with, I also like running my fingers through a lover’s hair. Yet while I find both of those activities, appealing, sensuous, and often arousing as part of intimacy I don’t think I could call it a fetish.

I’m not alone, playing with someone’s hair and they playing with yours can be relaxing and arousing, fun and exciting. But for it to be a true fetish there has to be a different element, a focus on the hair itself as a direct object of sexual arousal, a disproportionate excitement at the sight, touch or smell of hair. In extreme cases the taking of hair from another, with or more disturbingly without their consent. It’s rare that any fetish reaches that stage but I know of one case in the UK where women’s hair was being cut from their heads without their knowledge while travelling on busses. The person responsible, Danilo Restivo, was a very troubled person and his obsessions went beyond trichophilia, ending in homicide. So not your typical hair fetishist.

Sadly his actions are probably enough for the right wing press to insist on “fetish screening” for hairdressers in an effort to protect us in the same way that we need heavy-handed censorship to protect us from porn … and free speech. Sorry, I drifted off there.

A Wikipedia article on the subject of trichophilia says this “Hair does not in itself have any intrinsic sexual value other than the attributes given to it by individuals in a cultural context.”

Excuse me? I beg to differ!

Well OK, I suppose it depends how you define “sexual value” for sex to occur between two individuals you don’t have to have hair as such and hair does not form part of the sexual act directly. However think about the aspects of foreplay and sexuality that hair is involved in. For men or women, but particularly women in most societies hair is one of the ways they attract the opposite sex.

The Wikipedia article itself concedes that a healthy coat, or in the case of humans, hair can indicate vitality and fertility by showing you are in good breeding condition. Yes, there are cultural elements to this that feed into the value we place on the hair of a prospective sexual partner. Additionally there is the capability of hair to retain its owner’s scent, particularly in the pubic region but hair anywhere on the body does trap and intensify a human’s natural odour. I’ve met people who positively hate the hairless pubic regions of modern porn and many non-porn stars because it denies them this olfactory indulgence.

So I suppose I’ve answered my question, LOL. While it makes sense to seek out and be sexually aroused by a member of the opposite sex with good hair because of its indication of breeding condition (to put it at its most basic) but actually focusing your sexuality and arousal directly on hair is most definitely a fetish. And there’s nothing wrong with a fetish, indeed I can think of few fetishes that would manifest themselves with a loving partner in a more sensuous and mutually pleasurable way.

Breaking Balls

black-swimsuitI just returned from a week’s trip over to Cyprus.  It was part work and part holiday, fortunately more pleasure than business.

Alex and I had gone over with my stepmother to oversee some business relating to my late father and to tie up a few ends.  It also gave me the opportunity to see where in his later days he spent most of his time.

Which was a comfort as I haven’t visited the island for some years and had lost touch with all of his old haunts and friends.

It was great to see all of my father’s favourite places and of course provide support for my stepmother as she revisited the emotions she had encountered once already here in the UK.  I think we have now faced all of the mountains we have to climb and it’s now a question of building our stamina and getting on with life.

Staying in their apartment meant that Alex and I had to show a lot of restraint when it came to having a bit of nooky.  I think we managed 3 days before Alex felt like his balls were heavy and about to burst and I felt like someone had taken away my climax gland.  Lol

It was early morning and the apartment was quiet, although outside was noisy as people started their working days.  Cars zoomed up and down the street and people shouted their good mornings to each other.

I hope the background noise would be enough to mask the pure lust we both had for each other.  As Alex slipped between my legs the bed gave one of those familiar creaks, so I moved over to the middle.

He moved in closer, this time shrouded by silence and I blew a breath of relief.  I felt his hot, hard cock press urgently against my puffy labia majora and I opened my legs further allowing him to push into me.

Oh the relief of that first penetration!

I quivered a little as he filled me with his length and girth.  Coming to rest against what felt like my bloody cervix.  Fuck he was big this morning!

He sighed deeply and arousingly in to my left ear as he started to thrust, slow at first but then the control left him and he was giving me a good pummelling.  The bed started to once again grown, announcing to all listening that we were…

…FUCKING!

By now we were both beyond to point of control and I made the slightest of sideways movement to reposition and hopefully fool the bed in to silence once more.  And it worked.  😉

Now I had my legs wrapped around Alex’s waist and he was pushing deep and hard in to my hot, slippery cunt.  Closing my eyes I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, digging my nails firmly but gently in to his soft white flesh.

He moaned and started to buck like a possessed bull which had me gripping on for all I was worth.  My heart was beating so fast I could hear it and my pussy was pulsing with pleasure as my g-spot took onslaught after onslaught.

I could feel my pussy juice running between my butt cheeks as we both screwed each other senseless.  My head felt hazy and my senses alive.  It would have been wonderful to stay in that euphoric state for ever but it was not to be as I heard Alex give a deep but quite moan as he jettisoned his seed deep inside me.

Moments later he collapsed on top of me and we looked in to each other’s eyes with the same animal desire we had when we first met.

Good things cum to those who wait…