I got my first mobile phone when I was 22 – and not by choice. I spent the last few months of my gap year between Oxford and Durham running the summer social programme at a language school; among other things, my role involved coordinating day trips, leading activities around Oxford, and contacting host families, so it was no surprise when my boss insisted on giving me a Samsung flip-phone to use for all official business.
Of course this was mid-2003 – as far as I was concerned, there wasn’t much else I could use it for. Twitter and Facebook didn’t exist, nor did mobile Email, IM functionality, live video streaming, and all the other apps we now take for granted. Web browsing was much quicker on an actual PC, my car stereo and bedroom HiFi played all the music I needed, and if I wanted to take a photo, I just used my camera. My new toy meant that I could text my friends, rather than calling them from a landline, but in those first few weeks, that was about the limit of its value.
And then I met someone.
Ok, it’s not technically our house – but for a short time yesterday afternoon, it was everything we needed in a home. Light, airy, just far enough from the prying eyes of passers-by, and surrounded by a natural vista so wonderful that it made us both giddy to look at.
Even better, with no-one looking in through the windows, we were able to strip off and wander around naked to our heart’s content – which is definitely something we both value in anywhere we end up staying.
Our dream Andes retreat needs a little work, it’s true, and I don’t know how much it would cost to take it off the hands of its current owners – but these are minor details. And even if we end up having to look elsewhere, one thing’s for sure: we certainly enjoyed every minute of the viewing.
This year, we don’t have time for a proper session. It’s Boxing Day and that means family time: a leisurely brunch, which starts and finishes at different points for different people; a damp, dreary walk in the park with my baby nephew; dinner around the kitchen table. Time just seems to slip away from us, till before we know it Liv has to pack her suitcase for the trip back to London, and two days of pre-honeymoon work.
I join her in the bedroom, after my shower – not to be helpful, but simply because I like spending time in her company, even when we’re not really doing anything.
Except soon, of course, we are.
Country walks are the best.
Especially in the middle of winter.
When the sky is slate-grey.
The trees are bare or fallen.
The wind whips across the open fields.
And no-one else is around.
(Thanks to Exposing 40 for the excellent photographic work this afternoon!)
It’s been a funny 24 hours.
Last night, Liv and I went to a carol service in Clapham, organised annually to raise money for a local hospice. It’s held in a beautiful church with a very talented choir, and this year the congregational carol selection was close to perfect. Once in Royal David’s City, O Come All Ye Faithful, In The Bleak Midwinter, O Little Town of Bethlehem, and Hark! The Herald Angels Sing is a strong line-up, and we belted each one out with appropriate gusto.
Halfway through the service, a member of the hospice’s fundraising committee stepped up to the lectern to deliver an address. He was maybe five years older than me, had an open, kind face, and spoke with a voice that only wavered or trembled occasionally during what turned out to be an extraordinary speech.
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!