Miss Hunter’s website describes her as “one of the UK’s top disciplinarians, with skills honed over ten years of experience,” which sounds perhaps rather serious, rather daunting, for a birthday. What Miss Hunter’s website doesn’t communicate very well is just how very attractive she is (she’s too busy being fierce) or what a fantastic, twinkly… Read More »
My birthday. Well, almost. Me real birthday was going to be full of making things nice for other people. This day was going to full of making things nice for me. Nice. I hate that word. What I mean is hot, intense, sexy, beautiful, challenging. My intention was to be able to look back on… Read More »
Blue Door Dungeon is a basement play space in central London and was the venue I chose for my Birthday self-treat last week. My idea was to have an extended play session with the delightful Lilly, punctuated by visits from two very different dominant women.
For this week’s Sinful Sunday, Molly Moore, who is clever at such things, created two “wheels of fortune.” Each generated random words, one a treatment, the other a subject, allowing each participant to have an individual prompt. Like I say – no flies on Molly! I got “minimalist underwear” at the first attempt, which would have been easy if I… Read More »
Packing for my Eroticon weekend I had a (fortunately temporary) moment of distress when I couldn’t find a favourite black shirt. I tweeted in mock alarm:
“Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly.” ― M.F.K. Fisher
This week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt asked what hot, sexy things one might get up to with a million dollars. Well, owning this apartment might be a good start. Were it in London or New York, that might not be sufficient, but it’s in a small town in the Midlands and I might get it for that,… Read More »
I would enjoy this image if I just stumbled across it on someone else’s twitter; the curve of her beautiful bottom, the warmth of their naked embrace; these are enticing things to me.
We were nearing the end of a super-intense threesome BDSM session. I’d been in very deep and was asking for more, asking Elita to slap me, an act that, for me at least, manages to combine great intimacy with great violence. She’d obliged, hitting me hard and fast, sending me still deeper into my masochistic self.
I’ve sensed it over our last few sessions. They’ve seemed more intense. Harder. Deeper. And afterwards a greater feeling of being lost. Shocked. Unsettled.
Packing for Eroticon I couldn’t think why the case wouldn’t shut when I was packing for only one night, pushing up at me stubbornly as I tried to close it. I realised later why that was. I had two lengths of rope, a bag of clothes pegs (clothespins to Mercans), my little bag of insecurities and… Read More »
I’ve read my earlier post again and realise, in the cold light of day, that it might seem boastful; “Hey, look at me! Look at all the things I got to do with a beautiful woman half my age!” I accept that. I’m nearly sixty; I’m a bit overweight; I suffer from erectile dysfunction. Yet last weekend,… Read More »