I love sex toys. Not the most shocking of revelations, I know, but I do. I love them the way the Fella loves cars. He can wax lyrical about the shape of a headlight for hours on end, just as I can the shape of a vibrator. He often oooohs over the metallic finish of a paint job, and I do the same thing over the marbling of a hand-poured silicone dildo. But, in all fairness, sex toys aren’t vital to healthy, satisfying sex or masturbation. In my opinion, the only thing that is vital to good lovin’ is lube, and the most recent one to go a few laps around my bedroom is the Secret Play Oceanic Wakame & Nori Lubricant from Latex, Leather & Lace.
Another non-shocker is my love affair with Sliquid. It’s my go-to brand cos it’s easily accessible and there’s a type for pretty much every sex act I can think to perform. Well, apart from fisting. But I’m always on the lookout for something new. Something that comes close to Sliquid. Continue reading “Secret Play Oceanic Wakame & Nori Lubricant”
Everything they had done in the last six weeks of their riotous lives had led to this moment. Every decision, every act of refusal, of defiance, every lie they’d told and every hardship they’d endured had brought them here. Here, where it would all come crashing down around them. Where they would meet their ruin.
Florian unknotted the leather thong that clung to Zinnia’s elegant throat. The silver key she had stolen from her father dropped into his palm and he tightened his fist around it, partly to protect it, partly in hatred. Continue reading “A Catastrophic Affair”
The woman lying in the bed I just slipped out of looks so peaceful. Full lips slightly parted, dark curls spilling over her forehead. Like most people, when she’s asleep – truly, completely asleep – she’s as still as the grave. She doesn’t stir as I pass through the door and float down the stairs. It doesn’t surprise me that she doesn’t notice, given that I move with absolute silence. That and the fact that she doesn’t believe I’m capable of leaving her side.
I pass through the front door, then the garden gate, ending up standing alone in the deserted street. What does surprise me is that she doesn’t feel me slipping away from her. My eyes flick to the window. Well, sometimes she feels it. Sometimes, instinct rips her from her slumber and she snaps on the light. That drags me, usually kicking and soundlessly screaming, right back to her side. Continue reading “We Are Shadows”
It’s here! My first year of joining in with #30DayOrgasmFun (read this post to find out what it’s all about if you haven’t already). I did see all the hoo-hah surrounding it last year but I didn’t have the stones to join in. Sounds daft, doesn’t it. A sex blogger too nervous to take part in an orgasm drive. The thing is, like everyone else in the community, I’m more than just a sex blogger. I’m mother to an ADHD/ASD kid. Wife to an ADHD adult. I’m a daughter, sister, aunt, cousin, friend, neighbour…enemy. I have a house to look after, pets to care for and entertain, and I also have work commitments to keep up with as well as books to write.
There are a lot of people and things that have a claim on my time and, too often, I just don’t have enough minutes left for me. I sacrifice reading time, movie time, TV time. I take quick showers instead of pickling in a red-hot bubble bath, something that’s long been one of my favourite pastimes. I even forgo orgasms that I want – need – to have because there’s too much other shit I gotta do. Continue reading “A Month of Orgasms: #30DayOrgasmFun”
It’s Easter Sunday! Happy chocolate scoffing if you eat it, happy egg rolling if you do it, and happy resurrecting if you’re Jesus. I’ve already munched my way through a box of 24 Ferrero Rocher, and I have my eye on the Fella’s Belgian chocolate egg now. I don’t know who’s gonna hate me more when I sneak-eat it; him, my dentist, or my doctor. It’ll probably be me, actually.
As well as Easter, it’s also April Fool’s Day, and I’m mad about it. To me, it’s nothing but an excuse for regular twats to be astoundingly massive twats and I hate the entire concept. There’s something about it that brings out the worst in pretty much anyone pre-disposed to being a cunt. Just having a snoop at some Facebook pages this afternoon gave me an eyeroll migraine when I spied folks saying they’d been subjected to some of the usual suspects: Continue reading “Love Links #14”
There’s a box sitting right in the centre of my coffee table. Red. Heart-shaped, with my name written on it in black Sharpie. As I stare at it I feel my heart fluttering in my chest as though I’m in the beginning stages of terror. My entire body is shaking so much I wouldn’t be surprised if the air around me vibrated.
It isn’t fear I’m feeling, though. Well, not entirely. Mostly, what I’m feeling is anticipation, because this isn’t just any old box. My eyes are fixed on the black scrawl. My name, written in spiky, inch high capital letters, but no address. It wasn’t delivered by a courier service, it was hand delivered. Deliberately positioned in the centre of the table where I couldn’t fail to see it as soon as I walked through the front door.
She put it there. Continue reading “Heart-Shaped Box”
Check me out, writing some terrible sex especially for The Other Livvy’s #EuphOff erotica competition! I apologise in advance cos this stuff is mortifying.
Mercedes rolled into the garage just after midday. All the boys downed tools to stop and stare at her magnificent chassis. The older guys were fascinated by the curve of her rear bumper, the younger ones mesmerised by her airbags. They couldn’t be blamed, though, cos they were massive when fully inflated.
Only Axel looked Mercedes in the headlamps. They were on full beam, the paint job that framed them the best he’d ever seen. She fluttered her wiper blades at him, put her hips in first gear, and parked right in front of him.
The others went back to work, some of them with their hands in their pockets, fiddling with their wrenches. Axel tried to play it cool, but he could feel his dipstick getting harder and oilier by the second. Continue reading “Fully Leaded”
Well now. I’m quite sure that anyone who’s ever visited Scandarella before knows that one of my favourite brands is Fun Factory. Hand on a bible, I’d gladly swear that I’ve never tried a product of theirs that I haven’t loved. Some folks have asked why I bother reviewing Fun Factory stuff if I know the outcome before I even get a delivery, and my answer to those folks has consistently been, there’s always a first time. I mean, We-Vibe – another top five brand of mine – had a brilliant run of impressing me with their wares. Until they released the god-awful Gala, that is. I hated that thing. And that goes to show that there’s nothing stopping Fun Factory from disappointing me at some stage. The question is, would the Fun Factory Stronic G Pulsator II be the first of their products to wipe the adoring smile off my face?
If you’ve not come across a Fun Factory Pulsator before, you might need a little insight as to what these things actually are. They look very much like vibrators, but they’re not. Rather than vibrate they pulsate, hence the name. What happens is, magnets inside perform some kinda magic spell that causes the entire toy to shake. In use, that mimics a thrusting motion so Stronics are a bit like the world’s smallest hand-held sex machines. Kinda. Continue reading “Fun Factory Stronic G Pulsator II”
It’s been far too long since I last showed the sex blogging community some link love. But I’ve finally taken the ring of roses off my front door and I can look at a computer screen for more than five minutes without feeling like my eyeballs are gonna liquidise, so I’m finally getting back into the swing of things.
I’ve written a bit of smut and a review or two, and I’ve also taken my first turn at doing the Wicked Wednesday round-up. Ugh, so fucking hard, man. The prompt was ‘Sad’ and rather than having my loins bombarded with wank inducing filth like I expected, I was faced instead with some intensely emotional posts. Each one was as good as the one before it. I could easily have done a top ten, but I settled on three excellent pieces by three excellent writers: Continue reading “Love Links #13”
There’s an unnatural beat in my chest. A slow, deep, thud…thud…thud that reverberates behind my breastbone and makes my ribs shake. I feel heavy. My hips move in a languid figure eight making my short skirt fan the tops of my thighs with cool air. Sweat still trickles from the backs of my knees to my ankles, though. It makes my dress cling to the small of my back. The heat that had been belting down on me all day is now rising from the stone beneath my feet. Raising my temperature. Making me sticky and wet. Continue reading “His Dirty Rhythm”