Category: Sinful Sunday

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.

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 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.

“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)

This week, I’m turning over my Sinful Sunday post to one of my Twitter followers, who contacted me recently with this request:

I quietly follow Sinful Sunday, and it feels like a safe and mutually supportive environment, full of good people, but I don’t think I’m ready to start a blog of my own.

You don’t get if you don’t ask, so…if I take a picture to go along with this, is it something you would consider hosting?

When I read the rest of the text she sent me, I was struck by her simple and powerful words, and the bravery behind them. As she said in a follow-up message:

I love my tits. I’m going to miss them. I need to do something daring (for me) that will remain out there.

I think that’s a sentiment we can all applaud.

Visit Scotland! Seriously, visit Scotland. Come here for Edinburgh and Glasgow, sure – and even for lovely, un-lovely Dundee, the city of jute, jam and journalism – but come most of all for the wide open spaces in-between. 

You’ll find those in the Highlands and Islands – on Mull and Skye, up Ben Nevis and along the shores of Loch Lomond – but you don’t have to go that far north. 

Consider instead the Cairngorms, home to the highest, coldest, and snowiest plateaux in the British Isles. Here you’ll find five of Scotland’s six highest mountains, and 18 Munros in total, as well as the ski resort of Glenshee. Go conquer one of those craggy, slate-grey peaks, and give yourself some time at the top to enjoy the stunning views! 

From the Cairngorms, you can travel south along the A93, the highest major public road in the United Kingdom, towards the glens of Angus and Perthshire. On either side of you, you’ll see deep, u-shaped valleys, formed millions of years ago by giant, slow-moving glaciers. Make sure you find somewhere to stop and take in the bleak majesty of this ancient landscape, surrounded by its eerie, wind-ruffled silence. 

By the time you make it down to the charming fort town of Dunkeld, the monochrome panorama will have yielded to lush, verdant forests and the whitewater streams that wend their way through them. This is ‘Big Tree Country’, so park up at The Hermitage and walk through the ancient oaks and Douglas firs to the swirling Black Linn Falls of the River Braan, up at Ossian’s Hall. 

For even wilder water, you’ll need to press on to Dundee and across the Tay Bridge to Fife. There you can take the narrow coastal road out to Tentsmuir Beach, a vast stretch of pine-scented sand that runs along the edge of the forest towards St Andrews. The North Sea really lashes the shore here, so get ready for a bracing swim if you do venture out into the waves! Alternatively, just hunker down among the dunes with a packet of sandwiches and a flask of tea…or something a little stronger. 

After a full day out in the fresh air, you’ll need somewhere cosy to settle in for the evening. Luckily, Scotland is full of gorgeous boutique hotels, where you can warm yourself by the fire, and enjoy the best freshwater fish and local meat the UK has to offer. Whether you order salmon or trout, grouse or venison, beef or lamb, you’ll tuck in knowing that your food has come straight from the lochs, rivers, farms and forests to your plate. 

Chase down your meal with some boozy trifle or cranachan, and a tot or two from your host’s collection of single malts, then burrow under the duvet till morning. I guarantee you’ll wake up ready to do it all over again…