Category: Other photos

It’s that time of year when those of us in the northern hemisphere slip into comfortable autumnal routines. Stews in the slow cooker and thick, warming soups. Sunday mornings in bed with the sound of rain on the rooftops to lull us back to sleep. Stamping through piles of leaves, puddles of water, and pools of softly shimmering sunlight, all in the same journey.

As the weather turns, one of my favourite things to do is come back from an afternoon hockey match and jump straight into a hot bath. This is a relatively new routine – or rather, a routine I’ve slipped back into recently after years of preferring a post-match shower. Obviously Liv has a lot to do with that! Taking a bath is much more enjoyable when someone else runs it for you, adds relaxing bubble bath, lights candles, and provides company – either in the tub or beside it.

…naked!

Frequently.

Of course I am – it’s right there in my blog title and my Twitter handle. Exhibit A. Exhibit Unadorned. I like being naked, and I like having people (consensually) there to see it – and to take photos.

Even though a lot of my hottest fantasies revolve around being naked in front of an audience, it’s not always a sexual thing. I’ve written before about my lack of body confidence as a teenager and into my 20s. One way I got over that was to push out my chest and say ‘fuck it’ – not just to the world and to life, but to myself.

Getting naked – often in terrifyingly public/visible ways – helped me to change the relationship I have with my body, and to see it in a much more positive light. It’s also a pretty radical act, given the way society still vacillates between Victorian prudishness and sniggering prurience in its response to nudity.

Plus sometimes it’s just nice, y’know – especially on a hot day, when you’re outside and want to feel the sun on your body.

Smutathon weekend was wonderful for many reasons. The writing, obviously, and the collaborative, encouraging environment in which it took place. The hot tub – much to my surprise, as someone who’s only ever been able to enjoy them for 5-10 minutes at a time. The music, conversation and laughter over wine and takeaway pizza on the sofa.

Even the dull or stressful bits of the weekend were redeemed by the company I had around me; a nightmare 6h journey on Friday was made bearable by the chance to chat away about everything and anything with Jayne Renault – someone I’d met a grand total of once before, at Eroticon this year, but now count as a firm friend.

As most of you will have seen from Liv’s ongoing series of pregnancy Sinful Sunday posts, her body is changing more and more each week as we get deeper into the same trimester. I love those photos, because each one does an incredible job of showing just how beautiful those changes are, and how well she’s wearing them.

Last week’s post also provided a timely reminder that while her body is currently halfway through a very important, serious – and tiring – project, it’s still capable of kicking back and having a damn good time too. In fact, since the first trimester Liv’s sex drive has pretty much returned to its previous level – and she’s comfortable enough at this stage for kink and other forms of adventurous play to be firmly on the table.

We’ve spent the week on the North Cornish coast, lazing around on beaches, sleeping in till midday, and generally not doing much except eat, play games, and have a good time. It’s been wonderful.

Yesterday afternoon, we packed our bags and hit the road back towards London – but not before one last trip to Polzeath beach. Under brooding grey skies, we strolled together across the sand, and found what would’ve been a lovely little spot for a bit of sunbathing. Not possible at that stage, given the weather, but still perfect for adding to our collection of holiday photos – though we probably won’t be putting these ones on Facebook.

Overnight train journeys spent in a private compartment are inherently glamorous. They’re James Bond and Tatiana Romanova on the Orient Express, or Eva Marie Saint purring seductively at Cary Grant in North by Northwest. They’re fancy dining cars with waiters in white tie, followed by late-night cocktails and sex with a mysterious stranger…

…but most of all, they’re falling asleep to the rhythm of the train, as it clack-clacks softly through the night, whisking you off to somewhere new and exciting – or back to the familiar comforts of home.