It’s a longstanding fantasy of mine to be watched by a group of women as I strip naked and perform according to their instructions, before making a mess all over the floor. I find the whole idea of it so hot, in fact, that the lovely Malin James wrote me this brilliant story a couple of years ago as a birthday present.
Anyway, with lots of our sexy friends gathered in one place for last night’s sex blogger Xmas party, I finally got to turn my filthy fantasy into reality.
In a manner of speaking.
There’s something wonderfully rich and decadent about a plush red curtain as a photo backdrop. It fit perfectly with this month’s Sinful Sunday prompt, and as a result I have lots of interesting naked shots from my recent photo session with Exposing40*.
Though ironically I was drinking white wine that night…
Merry Dickmas, everyone! Jingle balls, dick the halls, and ding-dong merrily on high!
And of course…fiiiiiiiiiiive gold cock rings!
Yep, it’s the most wonderful (pun-derful?) time of the year, but before the big day arrives we all get to enjoy opening the 24
glory holes doors on our Advent calendars and gobbling up the delicious treats inside.
“Kneel for me here and get yourself ready. Good boy. Yes, you can touch your cock – I want it nice and hard by the time they arrive.
Shhh, you know the rules. No talking, not while you’re naked with me. I’m not going to answer your questions anyway – you’ll find out soon enough. A lovely treat for both of us, eh?
Mm, stroke it harder, come on. And keep that back straight – no slouching. You’re not to embarrass me tonight. I promised them something presentable, so that’s what you’re going to be. Presentable, obedient, well-behaved…and erect. Are we clear? Nod if you understand me. Yes? Good.
Ah, the doorbell. Right on time. You stay right here – I’ll be back in a few minutes. This is what happens when you tell me about your fantasies, I’m afraid. You should know by now that I’m a very resourceful woman…”
(Photo by Exposing 40)
Ok, you guys really didn’t make this easy! As I said on Twitter yesterday when I announced the names on this shortlist, I was blown away by the quality level on show across all 18 submissions. I feel pretty comfortable saying that the overall standard was higher for this contest than for any other that I’ve run over the last three-and-a-half years, which is really saying something.
Any one of these five stories would have been a worthy winner, and my only regret right now is that I didn’t reach out to potential sponsors beforehand in order to lay on more prizes. As it is, I feel a bit like Cady at the Spring Fling in Mean Girls – everyone deserves a piece of the crown!
I really like the white wall and washed-out colours in this edit of a photo I took at work the other day. Something about the splashes of brightness on my t-shirt, and the faded blue denim, made me smile when I looked at it afterwards.
I was fantasising about something very specific at the time. I wonder whether you can guess what it was…
I’m standing in the middle of the living room, panting and sweaty after a damp, windswept run. My knee aches, my face is flushed, and I’m conscious of how little time I have for a restorative shower before I need to leave the flat. I don’t feel sexy in any way.
Until she looks up from her phone.
Gets off the sofa.
Walks over and gives me a kiss.
Sometimes that’s all it takes.
Four months before our wedding, we met with the vicar to talk about the ceremony. He was keen to get to know us, and to explain some of the practicalities that come with getting married in an Anglican church; for our part, there were some language issues to discuss and resolve, specifically around the overt references to God that run through the standard wedding service. Liv wrote about this on our other blog a while back, but finding a happy middle ground between my lack of faith and her quiet belief in a Christian God was incredibly important to both of us.
It is to his immense credit that Tony, our vicar, did everything he could to accommodate our various requirements. The church is not renowned for its flexibility, but he listened patiently to all our thoughts on the subject, offered a range of thoughtful suggestions, and didn’t once question whether a church wedding was a suitable option for us, given both my agnosticism and my unwillingness to feign belief. The end result was a ceremony that felt meaningful, personal, and above all honest – something for which Tony will always have our sincere gratitude.
(Click here to check out contest details, rules and prizes)
With a few days to go till the deadline for my Song Lyrics writing contest, I thought I’d pull together links to all the entries I’ve received so far. Please do support your fellow writers by reading their work, and commenting/sharing as you see fit!
- Faithfully, by Teachers Have Sex
- Libraries Gave Her Power, by Hannah Lockhardt
- I paint the things I want to see…, by Nina Bellini
- Such Sweet Sorrow, by Fire & Honey
- Old Songs Cast Long Shadows, by Evie Masters
- Warm Body, by Cara Thereon
- Libraries Gave Us Power!, by Helen Scott
- Escape From Our History, by Name Unmentionable
- What’s the point in always looking back?, by Tits And Test Tubes
- Alone, by Hannah Lockhardt
- Staring at the bodies dancing across the floor, by Name Unmentionable
- Maybe this strangeness…, by Susie Whittenberger
- Happiness, by Confess Hannah
- One present moment, by Exposing40
- What it is, by Indigo Byrd
- Memory, by Mrs Fever
- The Backroads, by Ella Dawson
- Libraries Gave Us Power, by The Other Livvy
Thanks to everyone who’s taken part – you’re all brilliant!
We all have good hair days. We all have bad hair days. The same goes for skin, butts, and really any element of our physical appearance that’s linked in some way to self-confidence or body image – which kinda makes sense. The more time you spend scrutinising or judging something about yourself, the more likely you are to construct a spectrum on which to assess it (whether that’s ultimately healthy/helpful or not).
On Friday, I had a Good Dick Day.
After some great sex the night before, followed by eight hours of largely undisturbed sleep, I woke up feeling cheerful and positive. I worked from home in the morning, which meant camping out on the sofa in my dressing gown, with free and easy access to my body.