The M&S Sandwich

I am not, by nature, a morning person, and that remains true even on days when I’m getting up to do something I love, like play hockey.

In fact, early hockey matches can be a real pain. It’s not just that I lose one half of my weekend lie-in – with 70 minutes of running around to prepare for, I also have to make sure I’m up in time to eat, hydrate, and generally cleanse my body of the previous night’s excesses. Adulting 101, some would call it. 

Today’s game gets underway at 10.30, which meant my morning routine started with an 8.15 alarm call. I rolled out of bed, drank a pint of water, padded into the kitchen, and turned on the oven. Food is rarely far from the front of my mind, and even though I don’t like to eat too much before I play sport, I pretty much always have a breakfast plan. On this occasion, that involved hash browns, eggs, and maybe a small slice of cake. 

With the oven heating, I went back to bed and set another alarm for 8.35. I knew I had to leave the flat at 9.10, so the idea was to stick the hash browns in for 20 minutes, scramble some eggs, have a cup of tea, and get myself ready to wolf down my food at 9. 

Our bedroom has two outside walls and a door that opens straight onto the terrace, so in winter it can be a little like sleeping in an industrial freezer. With only 15 minutes of precious napping time available to me, I dove back under the covers and curled my body around Liv’s. 

I can sleep just about anywhere, at any time (a tremendously useful, if dangerous skill), so I passed out again almost immediately and didn’t stir until my second alarm. Livvy woke up too, and lifted her head just far enough from the pillow to turn and look at me with sleepy disapproval. 

I turned off the alarm and decided to allow myself two more minutes of snuggling before I got up. I could feel her warm back against my chest, and her smooth, strong legs tangled up in mine. After years of fiercely marking out my own space in shared beds, I’ve turned into a properly cuddly sleeper, and Livvy is entirely responsible for that transformation. Somehow our bodies just slot together perfectly, and in my 35 years I’ve encountered few things cuter than the soft, mumbly, contented moans she makes when I wrap her up and pull her close against me in bed. 

This morning I let my hand move up from her stomach to skim over her tits and tease her hard nipples. I kissed the back of her neck, and the warm patch of skin underneath her ear. She squirmed – only a little, but enough to grind her arse back into my crotch, up and down the length of my hard cock. 

I thought about the oven, and the packet of hash browns waiting for me to fish it out of the freezer. I thought about the hot cup of tea I’d barely have enough time to drink, and the eggs I was planning to scramble. 

I rolled over and put one hand on Livvy’s back to stop her following me. As she sighed and relaxed again, I reached down and fumbled for the bottle of lube we’d left beside the bed. I slicked a generous dollop over the head of my cock and nudged it back between Livvy’s legs. 

A proper breakfast could wait. There are always M&S sandwiches… 

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Sinful Sunday: Black Friday

A couple of days ago I popped into my favourite London sex shop, Sh!, to pick up some lube and check out the latest additions to their (excellent) range of own-brand dildos. 

By happy coincidence, my trip took place on Black Friday, increasingly an important retail ‘event’ even in this side of the pond. Sh! was running a big toy sale (which extends across this entire weekend, just FYI…), and suddenly my casual browsing became a whole lot more purposeful. 

I came back home with a neatly-wrapped box, which I presented to Livvy later in the evening. I don’t yet know how I – we – will use the contents, but what I can say for certain is that she looks absolutely fucking fantastic wearing them… 

Sinful Sunday

Posted in Other photos, Sinful Sunday | 23 Comments

Summer Breeze (a Twitter story)

I woke up from a particularly filthy dream this morning, still smelling of oil after last night’s photo/massage session, and with an erection that barely subsided in the 45 minutes it took me to get out of bed, dress for work, and take the Tube two stops up the Victoria Line to Vauxhall.

After I’d settled down on the train, I started typing out what I could remember of the dream, and it quickly became a short, filthy series of tweets, which I thought I’d share here too. The format/style probably works better in 140-character format than as a big block of prose, but if you do enjoy it, let me know here or on Twitter, and I’ll aim to post more in future…

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Posted in Erotica | 4 Comments

Sinful Sunday: Oil

There are very few things more likely to get me horny than warm hands (or other body parts) sliding all over me, till I’m slick and shiny. It sometimes gets to the point where I need to grab the bottle of massage oil from my partner and take over, while she watches…

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Posted in Cock shots, Sinful Sunday | 12 Comments



I’m waiting for you to get back here – you said you wouldn’t be long. On the wall in front of me a clock ticks silently round, counting each second that you’re out of the room. You’re only metres away from me, but it might as well be miles; without your hands on my body – your low, soothing voice – I can’t shoo the butterflies out of my stomach, or pluck each thorny prick of anticipation from my skin.

I’m waiting because you told me to wait. No further instruction was necessary. We are simple and straightforward in this respect, if in few others. I will wait until you come for me, lithe and loose-limbed, hips swaying to music that plays only in your head. A chin-out fighter in a dancer’s body – and sometimes the other way round.

“Stay hard for me,” you said, and left the room without turning back to see my response. I could touch myself, but I know how much it would disappoint you to return and find my cock shiny and slick with saliva before you’ve had a chance to coat it in yours. It’s also not really what you were asking me to do. This is a test. Not of loyalty, nor of submission – those are conscious choices – but of desire.

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Posted in Cock shots, Erotica | 6 Comments

I like mine with a kiss

How do you like your eggs in the morning?

I like mine with a kiss!

It’s now 11 days since I moved in with Livvy and her flatmate, and already it feels like the best decision I’ve made for a long time. There are practical benefits, of course: my rent has halved, we no longer have to endure the Northern Line in order to see each other, and it’s brought an immediate end to all those interminable and dull logistical conversations about where to stay on any given night.

Beyond that though, the whole thing has just made me unbelievably happy – even more so than I was already. I’ve always had a complex relationship with happiness. For a long time, I wasn’t sure I really deserved it, and as a result I was suspicious of anything that felt like a genuine opportunity to better my emotional lot. I sabotaged relationships, shied away from commitment, and maintained a wary distance between my own life and conventional, nuclear, 2.4-children domesticity. These last few years – pretty much covering the lifetime of this blog, in fact – have seen that slowly start to change, and I’m now in a position where I at least believe on some level that I can love and be loved in this way.

Maybe I’ll come back to that another time.

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Sinful Sunday: Sit On My Face

This week’s blog post on facesitting seemed to go down (heh) really well – not least with my girlfriend, who quickly made it clear how we’d be spending much of our weekend. It’s fair to say I had no real objections to her plan…

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Posted in Cock shots, Sinful Sunday | 10 Comments