Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Hey, sexies. I hope Wednesday has treated you well.
I've had a busy week so far, catching up with menial everyday chores, enjoying the glorious sunshine... and by the way it's my Biirthday!
It has been exactly one year since I set up my blog site and what an adventure it's been so far. My blog is steadily filling up with all of the short stories and general ramblings I have written to date. I'm totally loving being a blogger/writer.
While my current blogger acount has served me well over the last twelve months, I feel now is the time for a revamp. I've been told that my writing style is evolving and I feel that my blog should too. So, for the past 24 hours, I've been building a new website to mark this milestone of my journey.
Remaining ever hopeful that I will publish my first book, The Chauffeur, before the year is out, I also have several other unfinished stories I'd like to share with you and I feel like my new site should be the place to do it.
I've been working hard. Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm renowned for my lack of basic computer knowledge. However, I feel I've surpassed myself. I've actually managed to put together the foundations of my new site, with absolutely no help whatsoever and I'm pleased with how it's looking so far. The new webpage is defintely more sophisticated and professional, and transmits the sensuality I try to convey in my stories. I do hope you will pay it a visit when it's up and running
In addition to a new site, I'm also going to be giving my Twitter acoount a make-over. Some new imagery and a new twitter handle will be on the cards, as is a new Facebook page, all to coincide with the wesite launch.
I'll keep you posted!
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Hey, sexies! I hope you're all having a good week so far.
Mr A's work commitments have taken him far and wide for the duration of the week, so yet again, I find myself alone with only my thoughts to keep me company. I've utilised my time well and looked upon it as an opportunity to take stock of my life, without any distractions.
In Mr A's absence, I've been reflecting on the last few years of my life and how much things have changed for me, all for the better I might add. I love my life at present and I'm blissfully happy with the journey Mr A and I are taking together, even though our relationship is still in its infancy. How long will this happiness last? Who knows. Judging things purely on the way I feel now, I'd love to say for eternity, but I never take anything for granted and I'm fully aware that in most instances, nothing lasts forever.
However, what I do know is that I'm where I am today because of the choices I've made. Rightly or wrongly, all the things that have happened to me during my thirty something years on this planet (oh come on, you didn't think I was going to tell you my age did you?) have happened for a reason and were all par for the course, guiding me to where I am at this point in time. Although I can't help but wonder how different my life would be, had I made different choices.
The film Sliding Doors starring Gwyneth Paltrow is a great example of what I'm talking about here. The film tells a tale of a young woman's life from two different perspectives. It highlights how her life would have changed significantly, had she caught the train to work a minute later that morning. The concept of the film is very thought provoking and begs the question that each of us has probably pondered at some point during our lives, I guess it could be defined as a 'what If' moment.
Not so long ago, I wrote a blog post on flirting. I mentioned that I had had an encounter with a man named Alex and although this was many years ago, I still think about him from time to time. Today happened to be one of those days.
I was 22 years old and in a long distance relationship when I first made his aquaintence. He was 27, single and the friend of a female colleague, On that fated day, he had come to my workplace to meet my colleague, Anna and was waiting for her outside as I left the building. He caught my eye immediately and we engaged in eye contact. He was gorgeous. It was a strangely intense moment and although we didn't speak, I was captivated by him. Tall, dark and ruggedly handsome, his gaze sent shivers down my spine. Thoughts of our chance meeting occupied my mind for the rest of the evening. Crazy how just one look could ignite such strong emotions.
Over the coming weeks we became more familiar, as he continued to show up at my workplace.
"He really likes you, you know," Anna informed me one day, as we discussed the fact that she was meeting him that evening. "I thought it was blatantly obvious. Why else do you think he keeps arranging to meet me? He thinks you are the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, but I've told him you're out of bounds."
I remember my heart racing with excitement as I digested her words, it was music to my ears. However, she was totally right, I was out of bounds. Cheating wasn't an option for me, no matter how much I fancied someone.
One evening, Anna and I had been invited to a birthday party at a nightclub. She had forewarned me that Alex would be there. I felt sure she was using some form emotional blackmail strategy to entice me to go along with her. She knew I fancied him and even though I played my feelings down, she obviously saw through the façade. She wasted no time telling me that it was a dead giveaway, that my eyes always seemed to light up at the mere mention of his name.
With no arm twisting required, I accompanied her to the party. I was desparate to see him, to share the same space and breathe the same air as him. He'd taken up permanent residency in my thoughts from the first moment I'd set eyes upon him. Sure enough, he was there when we arrived, standing on the edge of the dance floor with a group of male friends. My heart skipped a beat. Our eyes followed each other around all night, stealing sneaky glimpses across the smoke filled room. Cheeky smiles and flirtatious body language reaffirmed the fact that we were both feeling a connection.
Damn, I wish I was your lover By Sophie B Hawkins blasted out from the large speakers that hung around the club. Holding hands, Anna and I made our way onto the crowded dance floor. As we danced to the mid-tempo beat of the song, I became aware of his presence. He had stealthily moved in behind me, grabbing my hips, he pulled me towards him. I could feel the stiffness of his erection as he pressed it firmly into my arse. His warm breath on the back of my neck caused my body to tingle, as we began to gyrate in unison to the music.
At that precise moment, I wanted him, badly, but I'd had a lot to drink. When the song finished, I took a reality check and once again reminded myself that I had a boyfriend. Excusing myself politely, I made a beeline for the ladies toilets, leaving him stranded on the dancefloor, alone with his erection. When I returned some minutes later, he was nowhere to be seen.
"Cock tease!" Spouted Anna, "don't lead him on, he's a really nice guy."
I wasn't leading him on, he'd encroached upon me that evening. Maybe it was wrong of me to dance with him in that way, but the fact remained, I fancied the pants off him and couldn't get him out of my head.
Our flirtatious exchanges continued for several months. I saw him more frequently on nights out with Anna. The more we chatted, the more I got to know him and the more I liked him. All who knew us said we had a definite chemistry and I wouldn't have disagreed.
Then one day, whilst on a shopping trip, I bumped into him. He asked if I fancied grabbing a coffee, to which I agreed without hesitation. It was only a coffee right? I didn't consider it to be cheating.
As he sat opposite me, we chatted at great length. Our banter was typically flirtatious but never overstepped the mark at any point. I felt relaxed in his company. I'm not going to lie, as I watched the words flow from his mouth, I found myself wondering what it would be like to Fuck him, to feel his hands all over my body, to take him in my mouth. I'd had a taste, albeit a brief one, I yearned for more.
Then, out of the blue, he asked me if I'd like to go back to his house for the afternoon. It was a tempting offer, one I should have refused, but I didnt. We quickly finished our coffee and off we headed.
We spent an hour or so looking through his extensive CD collection, he had a broad taste in music, as did I, suddenly this was something we had in common. We sat on the floor amongst piles of CDs, chatting about our mutual love of certain musical genres and bands, when he spontaneously went in for the kill and kissed me. I sensed it was coming, but still it stopped me dead in my tracks. He tried to kiss me a second time, but I recoiled. The look of embarrassment on his face spoke volumes. He assumed it was what I wanted. Maybe I had unintentionally given him signals that suggested I did, it was hard not to flirt with him. Unfortunately it had to be the case of another time, another place. Trying to do the right thing, I told him really liked him, but felt it wouldn't work. He tried to make me see the error of my ways, but I stuck to my guns, as much as it pained me to do so. I grabbed my coat and left his house. His parting words still ring in my ears today.
"I hope he's worth it."
That was the last I saw of him. He stopped meeting Anna at work and shortly after I moved away to be with my boyfriend. We married at a later date and I gave birth to two, beautiful children, but sadly our marriage ended two years ago.
I often wonder what happened to Alex, was it a missed opportunity on my part? Could he have been the love of my life? It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. That isn't to say that I regret how my life turned out, because I don't. As I said before, I'm happier than ever. I've often wondered if he ever thinks of me, I'm guessing probably not after the way we left things. Although nothing happened, I will always have fond memories of him and hope that wherever he is in world he has found the happiness he deserves.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Happy Wednesday, sexies!
Due to Mr A's work commitments, I find myself alone on this glorious Wednesday morning. So how exactly will I fill my time?
Well, as the dreaded bikini season is fast approaching, I figured today is a great day to start operation bikini body. Sadly, my arse went south for the winter and hasn't managed to find it's way back!
As from yesterday I started paying more attention to my eating habits and will be exercising, hard. Vanity is a harsh mistress.
But there is also another reason behind my tortuous, self imposed regime.
In June I plan to run Race For Life in aid of cancer research, as I do every year. Having lost loved ones to cancer, it is something that remains close to my heart. As well as planning to thrash my personal best at the finishing line, I'm also aiming to raise more money than last year, in the hope that one day soon there will be a break-through cure for this cruel disease.
Race For Life is a great event to participate in, if not a little emotional and all the training before hand makes it a great way to get in shape for summer. So get involved ladies!
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Happy Wednesday, sexies!
I've just recieved shock news from a friend, who informs me that trends are shifting and pubic hair is making a comeback!
I know, it's always been there and most of us just choose to keep it at bay with our razors. It now turns out that we should be throwing away our trusty Gillettes and embracing the hair down there, in favour of a more grown over, earthy look!
I can't say that i'm about to jump on board the bandwagon in the immediate future and return to the way nature intended it. I don't mind telling you that it's not an idea that is likely to grow on me either.
I recently read an article in which Cameron Diaz was quoted as saying, getting rid of pubic hair is like saying you don't need your nose! WTF, Cameron? The saying 'not just a pretty face' does not apply here, it's hardly the same thing now, is it? Common sense tells you you'd have a pretty hard time without a nose, but what real purpose does pubic hair serve?
Apparently it is there to act as 'cushioning' (against what I'm not entirely sure?) and prevent infection. Now, as much as I see the reason for sporting a light smattering for the latter (although personally I've never suffered), I'm very sorry, but you won't find me walking around with a voluminous topiary shrouding my modesty, be it for cushioning or otherwise!
I'm afraid it's a definite no no from a vanity perspective for me. I myself feel much more comfortable and hygienic when the garden is tidy and prefer not to let it become overgrown. There's nothing more embarrassing than going on holiday, dropping your sarong at the beach, then feeling that pang of horror when you realise that you forgot to tidy your borders. You are then forced to remain covered up for the duration of the day, to conceal the Brillo Pad style thickets that are escaping involuntarliy from the side of your bikini bottoms!
I also have to ask the question, is pubic hair really that attractive to look at? I suppose if you are talking about a neat landing strip then to me that's ok, but I'm really not sure I would want to go down on something that bears resemblance to a salavating woodland animal, or what some may refer to as a hairy growler!
These days, even men are deciding they don't wish to be caught by the fuzz and are proudly manscaping, getting as a close as they dare get with a dangerously sharp blade. I have to say I'm totally in favour of the new improved, smoother man. Let's face it, ladies got the better deal in terms of design in the genital department, so a little penis preening can make the area much more inviting to work with, although I'm sure the same can be said for womens bits too! Surely no man wants to return to the dark days of foraging through his lover's dense undergrowth, like celebrity botanist David Bellamy, in search of her elusive bud!
Then there's the economy issue. Over the last few years, beauty salons have been overrun with demands for waxing. Brazilians, Hollywoods and vajazzles (totally pointless in my opinion); all popular ways of tidying up our wayward bikini lines. Just think how much quieter a beauty therapist's day would be, should we suddenly decided to grow our lady gardens! Their wage packets would suffer considerably, I'm sure.
Regardless of public opinion and trends, I know I won't be taking a step back in time and opting for the DLT look (a rather hairy 80's DJ in the UK for those of you who didn't already know); less is more in my opinion, the smoother the better!
Friday, April 4, 2014
I waited patiently on the massage table, wearing only my panties and a heavy, navy Egyptian cotton towel to conceal my semi-naked body. A full body massage was what I had been in need of for some time and at long last I had finally got around to making the appointment. Staring at the varnished wooden floor through the face hole of the massage table, I could hear the squeaking of hinges as the door opened, then clicked closed, indicating that the beauty therapist had entered the room. As I lay there in a vulnerable state of undress, the relaxing sounds of pan pipe music echoed subtly in the background, while the aroma of massage oil permeated the atmosphere. Inhaling the sweet air with soft floral notes of jasmine and ylang ylang, I found it both calming and intoxicating. The warm glow of the lightly scented candles cast flickering shadows around the dimly lit room. The ambience of the environment had drawn me in, emitting a great sense of well-being. Already I felt in a state of relaxation.
The therapist approached the massage table but did not speak. I had already been briefed on the procedure, prior to undressing. Gently, she peeled back the towel. My spine tingled as she exposed my bare skin to the clement air of the treatment room. Folding the towel, she tucked it around my hips, just under the elastic of my knicker-line, to keep it secure. I did not feel her presence for a few minutes, but it was not long before she returned, rubbing her hands together, heating the massage oil in her palms to ensure it was warm upon application.
Deftly she placed her hands onto the centre of my back and began the massage. Standing beside the table, her hands glided across the length of my back in fluid sweeps, as she evenly distributed the warm oil. Working her fingers into the taught muscles along my shoulders blades, I could already feel the benefit. Her pressure was firm but bearable; the pockets of lactic acid that had been the source of my recent tension were being slowly dispersed.
Swiftly changing position, she stood above my head and began to knead the back of my neck. Through my peripheral vision, I could see that she had discarded her shoes. Her dainty, lightly tanned feet displayed immaculate toenails that were painted in a deep red varnish. She had pretty feet. I found myself strangely aroused.
She proceeded methodically, massaging the main areas of my body. She started with my back, progressed to my arms, down to my hands and then finally onto my legs. Her hands firmly worked their way up the length of my inner thigh, stopping dangerously close to my crotch. I took a deep inhalation of breath with every stroke, each one seemingly edging closer than the last.
A moments respite came when she turned her attention to the soles of my feet, massaging them deeply with a firm rotary technique. What the hell was wrong with me today? I had indulged in many a massage in the past, but this one felt different; it was almost as if she was purposefully trying to tease me.
Suddenly she spoke, quietly, instructing me to turn over onto my back. As she lifted the towel and held it aloft to cover my modesty, I flipped myself over on the bed. She covered me with the towel once more, leaving my neck and shoulders exposed.
Taking a quick break, she re-lubricated her hands, replenishing them with fresh oil. Returning to the massage table, I was now able to observe her in greater detail, as she continued to work on my décolletage. She was around twenty-five years of age, blond haired, blue eyed and very pretty. Her hair was piled high and soft wispy tendrils framed her pixie-like face. I recalled being told when I had booked the appointment that my therapist’s name was Maya. When she had greeted me upon arrival, she spoke with a Nordic accent, possibly Swedish, although her English was word perfect.
Her hands continued to circle in therapeutic sweeps, brushing the thick towelling about my torso, as she competently manipulated the area between my neck and chest. Then without any prior warning she pulled back the towel, uncovering my bare breasts.
My nipples instantly hardened as cool air washed over me. She placed her oily hands on both breasts and began to knead my ample, fleshy mounds. I had never had a full body massage before, so I wasn’t totally sure if this was standard practice. I probably should have queried it, but it felt so pleasurable that I let her continue. I had never experienced lesbian tendencies before; I was in a long-term relationship with a man who satisfied me in every way. However, I was extremely turned-on by what she was doing. Continuing with her tortuous massage, pummelling my body with vigour, suddenly I could take no more.
With an abrupt jolt I sat upright, startling Maya who was totally focused on the task in hand. She stepped back, her face bearing a shocked expression. Holding my gaze she remained silent, as if waiting for me to voice my disapproval. I stared back at her, my breathing now heavy. Unsure as to what compelled me to do so, I lowered myself off the massage table. The heavy towel fell at my feet, leaving me standing in only my delicate black lacy knickers. I approached her slowly, all the while her eyes were transfixed on me. Standing before her, I hesitated before reaching out, my right hand finding its way into her hair. I pulled her close to me and kissed her on the lips. To my surprise she put up no resistance. Eagerly she reciprocated, her tongue hungrily invading my mouth, as if she had already pre-empted that it would happen. This provocative thought fuelled my fire; had this been her intention all along? I could feel her hand working across my navel, her fingers then tracing a line up to the valley that separated my substantial breasts. She cupped and squeezed my right breast as we continued to kiss. My nipple stood firmly to attention as she grazed it with the tip of her index finger. A warm ache radiated in my pussy, as I responded to her touch. I could feel myself becoming wet, the crotch of my knickers absorbing my silken nectar, evidence of my arousal.
In a slow, seductive manner I took Maya by the hands and guided her backwards towards the massage table. Raising myself up onto the edge, I spread my legs wide, allowing her to rest between them. Pushing down onto her shoulders, I forced her to her knees. Complying with my demand, she sank to the floor in obedience, without hesitation. She knew exactly what it was I desired. Rubbing my thigh with one hand, she peppered the other with soft, delicate kisses. Her full lips slowly ascended up to my knickers. Without prior warning she sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of my inner thigh. I let out a cry, not one of pain, but one of exctasy. She shot me a devilish glance as she rubbed her hand over my panties; my clit throbbed wildy as she teased me through the sodden material. Gently she eased the scant lacy fabric to one side wasting no time to sink her mouth over me. She began to suck gently upon my fleshy labia, which framed my moist opening. I pulled her head in closer, silently commanding her to go deeper; my swollen clit desperately craved her attention. Her tongue flicked and swirled about me. Slowly at first, then firmer and faster as she sensed the climb to my orgasm had begun. She continued to lap, her saliva mixing with my flowing juices. Higher and higher I climbed, her relentless tongue showing no mercy until she finally pushed me over the edge. I came violently, the warm waves of my orgasm rippled through my body over and over again, sending me into another world. Never before had I experienced such an intense orgasm.
As I slowly regained my composure, I noticed Maya had begun to undress. It was evident that she had no intention of letting me leave without first making her cum too. One by one, she slowly unbuttoned her white therapist’s dress, entertaining me with a provocative strip tease that was a sight to behold. Seductively she pushed the dress off her shoulders and I watched as it dropped to the floor. She stood before me, wearing a cream sheer bra and knickers, and neutral coloured lace top stockings. I envied her youthful physique; Slim and leggy, she looked gorgeous. I wasn’t ashamed to admit to myself that I fancied her. The silhouettes of her erect pink nipples were clearly visible through her bra, the crease of her pussy peeked through the matching see through knickers. I wanted her. I wanted to explore her, taste her and devour her in the same hungry way she had just devoured me. She walked towards me and grabbed my hand.
Edging off the bed I rose to my feet. She led me around the corner to a wet room tiled from floor to ceiling in stone, with a single gold shower-head mounted upon the wall. She sauntered over to wall and pulled a leaver, which turned the shower on.
A fine defused spray rained down upon the tiles as the room steadily began to fill with steam. Taking me by the hand she led me under the steady flow of hot water. The oil coating my skin had created a water resistant barrier. Droplets of water formed tiny pearlescent beads that ran off my body. Maya was drenched; her sexy underwear clung to her perfectly formed body. She was a beautiful mess, carefree and totally oblivious to her smudged mascara. Grabbing my wrists she pulled me onto the floor of the wet room. I stared up at her as she slowly began to remove her knickers. A stream of water ran down her lithe body and dripped off her tidy lips as she discarded the delicate garment, kicking it to one side. Sinking to her knees she pushed me back. Casually I leaned onto my elbows, supporting my weight as she forcefully pushed my legs apart. Straddling me, she slowly lowered herself down over my pussy in a scissor-like fashion and I could feel the wet lips of her clean-shaven pussy make contact with mine. Immediately she began to grind herself into me, our moist folds locked in an intimate kiss as she writhed rhythmically. This felt heavenly; I could feel a second orgasm building. She persisted relentlessly, harder and faster, using me to make herself cum. I showed no objection, my hips gyrated to meet her thrusts as she moaned with pleasure. I sensed she was close too. We continued to pound away at each other, our juices mixing together as we fucked under the soothing spray of the shower. Maya came, releasing a drawn out moan as her body shuddered around me. My own orgasm followed shortly after. Climbing off, she laid down beside me. Taking me in her arms she held me in a comforting embrace and delicately kissed my forehead, a wordless show of appreciation for what we had just done. We lay in relative silence, gathering our thoughts before she clambered to her feet, picked up her knickers and left the wet room, leaving me forever with the lasting memory our intimate experience.
In the distance I could hear the faint sound of a voice calling my name. The voice became louder and I soon felt the presence of a hand gently shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes, I must have been dreaming. Maya was standing beside me as I lay on the massage table, carefully trying to rouse me from my erotic yet impromptu slumber. She needed me to vacate the treatment room as she had but minutes to prepare for the arrival off her next client.
Acknowledging her apologetically, I shrouded myself in the towel and proceeded to gather my clothing. Maya smiled and left the room allowing me some privacy to dress. As I pulled my jeans up over my hips I was aware that my knickers were slightly damp. How did that happen I thought? Perspiration maybe? I had felt hot underneath the confines of the towel. Once fully clothed I left the treatment room. As I made my way out of the room I was aware of some discomfort, my jeans annoyingly rubbed on my inner thigh as I walked. I passed Maya once more in the corridor. She glanced at me as she walked on by. A knowing look laced with an element of wickedness. No, surely not. I had most definitely dreamt the whole thing. There was no way it really happened…. Or did it?
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Check me out! two blog posts in one week, impressive huh? I advise you to make the most of it, as it's probably never likely to happen again!
I've had a great HumpDay, mostly spent writing about humping, with a few hump related activities thrown in for good measure. A great way to add a bit of spice to gloomy wednesday such as today.
In the presence of the ever sexy Mr A, who never fails to brighten the dullest of days might I add, I was quite astonished at how focused I have been. Seems to be a rarity these days and certainly wouldn't have been the case had Mr A not had his own shit to sort out :/
I felt it necessary to take a brief break from writing The Chauffeur, as progress has been slow and relatively non productive of late, although I'm still set on getting it finished before the summer. To keep my creative juices flowing, I decided to pen a new story and completed the first draft this afternoon. The aim being to post it over the weekend once it has been tweaked several hundred times!
I have especially enjoyed writing this one. The story centres around a naughty girl on girl first encounter at a beauty salon, with an added twist. This is my first attempt to date at writing lesbian themed erotica, so I hope it translates well. I also hope at this point my writing is starting to develop it's own style and my stories become more descriptive where needed. As for my punctuation... Well, one step at a time Hey! ;)
Please look out for it and I hope you enjoy...
Monday, March 31, 2014
Have you ever had someone enter your life who is like no other you have ever met before? Someone who brings out the best in you, who makes you feel alive, allowing you view the world from a different perspective, like a blind person who is suddenly given the gift of sight?
Do you have that special someone who is your first waking thought? Taking up permanent residency in your head, dominating your daydreams when they are not around. Do you cherish every moment spent in their company and feel a void when you have to say goodbye, if only for a short while.
Have you ever felt so in tune with a person that you can anticipate what they are about to say before they have even said it? Do you at times, sense what that person is feeling, without he/she uttering a single word? Do have someone who is equally like-minded and ticks every box on your compatability list?
Are you privileged to have someone who tells you that you are the most beautiful person in the world to them? A person who sees past your flaws and embraces them because they are all part of you?
Have you ever had an uncontrollable thirst that only he/she can quench? Where every glance, every kiss, every caress drives you wild with wanton desire? Do you ever feel a constant ache between your legs, no matter how many times he/she makes you Cum? Does it feel like each time you fuck you are taken to new heights of physical pleasure, a lust so passionate and intense that you feel totally as one?
Do you have someone who has had such an impact on you and your life, that you never wish to imagine a world without them in it?
Until I met Mr A, I had never felt such a wide spectrum of emotions. Out of the blue he turned my world upside down, set it on fire and fucked me fifty shapes of sideways! He inspires me in everything I do, fuelling the emotion and passion in the sex scenes I write. He is my life, my love, my soulmate and above all he is my best friend. I'm loving every step of our journey together.