I sounded far more prudish than I had planned to but I had to admit to being slightly horrified by the scene before me.
‘Oh come on. You know how much I love Christmas.’
She did love Christmas, but this … this was just … obscene. She was lying on the bed with everything from baubles to tinsel scattered around her, a smooth bauble was still nestled in her palm and I am certain it’s shine would be slightly dulled in parts as her juices began to dry upon it. Fairy lights twinkled all around her and despite my reservations about her choice of erotic inspiration I did giggle, she looked like the naughtiest elf there had ever been.
Featured images by Posy Churchgate and used with permission.
‘Alice! Alice! Stop this infernal daydreaming and listen to me, and while you’re at it take off those ridiculous socks!’
Alice raised her gaze slowly and looked at her husband, with a look that could not be mistaken for anything other than disdain. Her loving, adventurous Robert was long gone. His corporate job and his commitment to it being greater than to her had turned him into a dull, unloving and even worse, an unlovable man.
‘You know what Robert? I won’t take my socks off, but I will take them away from you. I’m going to bed, don’t bother following. The spare room is all yours tonight.’
Note: I mention the Top 100 Sex Blogs 2018 list by MollysDailyKiss and how the results are imminent. The results actually went live last night & are somewhat different from my reflections in this post. I’ve chosen to leave the post as is though.
It’s been a whole month since I did a #SoSS post! Mostly because I’ve been knackered and busy with new work and I’ll be totally honest blogging, both writing and reading, had to take a back seat for me to function like a normal human! BUT I’m feeling a bit more with it now, caffeine, vitamins and embracing naps has worked wonders. So without further ado let’s share some downright sexy blog posts from my fellow bloggers.
I did know the rules or should I say his rules and I thought they were fucking stupid. Not least of all because they weren’t my rules, but they were still imposing on my life and spoiling my fun. I wouldn’t mind if she was saying no, because she didn’t want it, but saying no when she did want it, just made no sense to me.
Rules aside, she began to remove her clothes, leaving nothing on but her white shirt and her tights, sheer with a hint of blue, I wanted nothing more than to rip them from her body, before pushing her thighs apart and delving tongue first into her delicious, wet cunt.
I think my desire for her is a form of madness, it twists in my gut, makes my mind foggy and pushes out any sense of propriety. Which always worked very well for us, friendship and passion combining, we would spend hours talking, fucking and exploring our mutual interest in photography.
A little while back I read a blog post that is no longer available about polyamory and swinging myths, it was a great post and it inspired me to talk about another type of alternative relationship model, non-monogamy. I wrote the article below for that blog, but later on in the week I would like to share another post about a more specific non-monogamous experience and I think this post is a perfect preface to that one, so I am taking the opportunity to share it with you now.
For me, non-monogamy is both an umbrella term and a more specific way to describe my own relationship without using a descriptor that could be a little misleading. Myself and Bakji both identify as non-monogamous, both as individuals and within the dynamic we have together.
As many of you will know I enjoy getting involved in Sinful Sunday, while it is a great place to share images and find inspiration for new ways to create my own images, every now and then it inspires a blog post too. This time it is the wonderful image from Love is a Paraphilia. I was a bit stumped for a Masturbation Monday post this week, life has got a lot going on and I think a little bit of writer’s block set in towards the end of last week. But I couldn’t stop musing on the idea of discarded Polaroids being found in an old and derelict building, so I let my mind run with it and this is what came of that inspiration.
The old manor house had always been in a state of disrepair, new owners that purchased it but never saw fit to renovate let it move into derelict territory. As it lay abandoned it was impossible not to imagine what it could once have been, what memories must lie within its walls, as I stood in front of it I recalled the experiences I had there myself before it had fallen to be the ruin it now was.
We were young, adventurous and definitely thrill seekers, we engaged in what many people would consider ‘bedroom activities’ in a myriad of places, and rarely were any of them even close to a bedroom. Even as the seasons changed, and bright summer days gave way to autumn leaves and winter frosts we could still be found cavorting outside in various states of undress exploring the most intimates parts of one another.
She had admired him from afar for a long time. When she finally had the chance to engage him in conversation her admiration grew and so did her longing to be with him. She was disappointed that he seemed a little reticent to join her for dinner, and even more so when after eventually dining with her he didn’t seem as captivated by her as she was by him. She knew what had to be done though, it had been a long time since she yearned for a man’s attention in this way and she wasn’t about to let a little disinterest stop her from getting what she wanted.
There was much to prepare. She had very little time until the moon was at its most powerful, but between now and then she must collect a little of his essence to bring them together, before collecting her own treasure from its place of storage.
I watch the people pass me by as I nurse so many coffees I lose count, they are all endlessly fascinating but it’s the women who tend to catch my eye most often. I am careful though, I look but I don’t draw their attention to my enjoyment of them. It is regretful that I can’t invite them to sit with me or pursue a dalliance where my hands could roam across their warm soft flesh. In fact, I could do that, but I shouldn’t, it is far too recent since my last encounter, it would be reckless to embark on another so soon.
I am lost in my thoughts of rueful longing when her voice startles me and pulls my focus immediately to her presence. Her hand rests on the back of the spare chair at my table, she is quite unbelievably asking if she can join me. I glance around and see one or two other places she could have chosen, all of which do not contain a single man sitting alone. I realise it is I who has caught her eye and I feel a mixture of excitement, for myself and pity for her, as I confirm that the seat is indeed free.
This is not sexy time rope. This is I have an idea for a photo, let’s do a trial run kind of rope. It’s also far from perfect, my rope skills are average, but they damn well do the job when I’m tying someone up and that is what counts. Tying myself though, not hot, I don’t get off on that.
This rope I’ve tied on myself hurts, and I do like the hurts. I’ve tied it tight, because that will look sexier, but oh my, it’s so tight that is actually feels sexier.
When I first started this blog I wasn’t involved in the blogging community at all. Through the podcast I started to converse with other podcasters, and that felt like a far easier community to break into that the blogging one. Until that is I realised something, I hadn’t actually tried to be part of the blogging community.
When I decided to eventually start taking part in things within the blogging community I will be honest and say I did so because I thought it might be a good way to promote ProudToBeKinky. However, far more of you visit me for my writing than my podcasting, so I can be upfront and say that plan did not work out.