Saturday 25 August 2012


You make me feel at home, my raven haired lover.
The sun on my back, fractured heart cupped tenderly in your hands,
my wayward souls lament finds its most receptive audience yet.
Whispered through crazed lips my obsessions, your acceptance and heavenly scent envelopes me,
a dampened jasmine glow, like home.
Where have you been, my raven haired lover?
Comfort reflected in docious eyes, child-like and curious, what is it that you've seen,
what void am I to fill, if any, if it's your will?
Please show me to the window one more time, a vantage point that I may peer inside.
Is this my home?

Thursday 23 August 2012

choice cuts #18...

Something different this week. I'm going to combine one of my favourite cuts with a recommendation.
The song:

Missed Me
by
The Dresden Dolls
everyones favourite cabaret punk duo, hailing from Boston, Mass. Surely you've heard of them.

Alas, what I'm suggesting is that you go to youtube and watch these routines, the first one is set to the choice cut and, is quite simply breathtaking.
The second is equally so and masterfully performed to a very familiar track by the late A.J.Winehouse.

You may or may not be into performance art/aerial acrobatics/contortionism, but I dare you to watch these and not be enthralled. My ex got me into it many moons ago, and I was hooked from the very first live performance I witnessed.
Here are 2 of the best. Enjoy! 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YxKhBSR87A      performance by M.Terentieva

www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZEBWyfUhYE     performance by F.Monteiro

Monday 20 August 2012

the great debate
/Version She.1


Not that it’s any of my business, but I’m going to weigh into the debate on a couple of things, vanity issues, of the feminine variety. Not issues in a hang-up sense, but a dialogue on appearance and preference. Personal preference. And again, as per The Great Debate /version He.1, your input is encouraged and most welcome.
 Let me start with the body hair debate. I hope I don’t offend anyone with my ideas on women and hair. I’m quite sure those who read this blog are of the broad-minded ilk, and I can’t imagine that any dyed in the wool feminists would count among my readers. I guess you’ll tell me if you are, and that’s absolutely fine. But I’m somewhat of a traditionalist. I like a woman to be soft and smooth and relatively free of body hair. The very fine miniscule stuff is of course totally acceptable, but the legs and armpits should be devoid of growth, for the most part. The pubis I’m not all that concerned about. It seems to me that the bush is in the middle of a renaissance, here in Europe anyway. And I like that, it’s womanly and sexy, it releases nostalgic pheromones in me. Although I must admit that I prefer a degree of trimming. Essentially I like the workings exposed, it looks hot, feels great to touch and is an absolute pleasure to kiss, lick and suckle. Whatever style you wear above your lips is fine with me. Landing Strip, Flying V, Top Knot, Mega-Mound or the Full Monty, whatever, I don’t discriminate. But from prepuce to Uranus I like it stripped clean. Having said that, I’ve spent a lot of time wading through the jungle and you know what, it didn’t matter one iota. At the end of the day, it’s all about the owner, that’s where the real connection lies. 
 Now let’s talk about breasts.. one of my favourite topics. Real vs Fake. This is an absolute no brainer for me. I’m a natural breast lover through and through. I’m not bothered by size; they could be almost non-existent, petite, perky, prominent, saggy, globular or massive, as long as they are real. I care not if you have inverted nipples, although outties do add that extra dimension. I like breasts that behave naturally, that fall flat or to the side when a woman lays down, the ones that jiggle and bounce during sex. The soft to the touch ones. Most women in my circles possess the real deal, but I’ve had the opportunity to road test some of the augmented variety and it just doesn’t look right, but worse still, it doesn’t feel or react right. Medical conditions and replacement aside, I can understand some of the reasons behind augmentation though. A close friend of mine had hers done many years ago. I arrived home after some years abroad to attend her wedding and she was very keen to gather my opinion. For some time it didn’t click, I just knew there was something different about her. It wasn’t until she came out in a bikini top that I noticed. She hadn’t gone overboard, but the difference was sizeable. She previously was in the possession of fried eggs, nothing more, and not even free range at that. The confidence boost that she got post-op was truly astounding, and led her down a far more satisfying and successful career path, and it showed. Good for her. She let me fondle them too which I thought was a nice touch, hubby and I are great mates, he was as proud of them as she, so no dramas there. I guess it’s one of those things that is so personal and can consume ones existence entirely that it should be left up to each person alone. However I feel that it’s important that people like me help in some small way to get the message out there... Be happy with what you are born with. A good and loving partner should never define you by your appearance alone.  
Lastly, I’d like to breach the topic of make-up. This is a tricky one. I know that so many women out there could not possibly leave the house without putting on their face, but come on, it doesn’t have to be plastered on, really. The trend these days in this part of the world, is way over the top. If the temperatures ever topped 27*, their faces would, I feel, slide off. I prefer the clean and relatively make-up free look. A little bit of eye and lippy action is great, and very sexy, but carrying around a kilo of product in your hand-bag just isn’t necessary. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the magnificent efforts that the fairer sex goes through to make themselves look good, but it can be a very fine line between attractively made-up and frighteningly OTT. The most beautiful a woman looks, in my opinion, is when she first opens her eyes in the morning and looks into mine. Provided of course she wasn’t too drunk to clean her face the night before! =)
So that's just a snippet of what I like. Personal preference is such a wonderful thing.. It helps contribute to making this world a richly diverse and entertaining place to call home.. (and people watch).

Wednesday 15 August 2012

Role Play
The Abduction
part 6


Click...Whirrr.. another for posterity. She looked so devilishly handsome draped over the bonnet, raggedly clad, limbs bound, ass protruding. A poster girl for some B&D fleshpot Auto-mag or something similarly twisted.
So inviting was the vision that I simply couldn’t resist the urge to feast on her in this state. Again I approached her and grabbed her arse with both hands. Pulling her apart to expose her precious wares.. “Thats just such a pretty picture”.. I buried my face deep into her crevasse.  There was nothing graceful or delicate about it as I fed hungrily on her succulent bits, spit mingling with C’s juices, it all tasted fine to me. No hole was spared, there’s nothing sacred on this ravenous table. I tongued and sucked and slurped on her. She didn’t resist in any way. So absorbed in my plate, enthused by the taste, face planted firmly in her quim, I forgot to breathe. The tingling light headedness of asphyxiation has a certain addictive quality, a moreish effect. I gorged and C benefitted from my feeding. I heard a protracted, luxuriant moan. She may have come..
As I stood I felt a dark shroud close in on me, stars popped in front of my eyes and I nearly lost my legs. A lack of oxygen and blood flow almost got the better of me. I propped myself up against the van and took rapid shallow breathes until the light returned. When it did my eyes trained on my thumping erection standing proud. So that’s where all my blood was... it sure felt like it. Without a thought I turned, rolled onto C and drove it into her with a deliberate fury. As if it were she who had brought this affliction upon me. And it was. 5 deep sharp strokes, before pulling out again.
Reaching into the van I grabbed a blade. I leaned into C’s thighs, trapping her legs and swiftly cut the tie with one pass. Her feet were free. I tore the remnants of her pyjama bottoms from her and cast them aside. She wouldn’t be needing them this night. I leaned into C once more, pinning her to the van with my lower half. My cock nuzzled into her cheeks. I slipped the blade carefully between her wrists, and cut. Free from the binding, C sighed, the relief would be only too brief, however I’m glad she enjoyed it. She relaxed somewhat. I shelved the knife and grabbed her arms.. I brought them up her sides and stretched them out above her head. Draping over her with my considerable weight I brushed my stubbled face against her cheek. Holding her firm, I bit playfully at the leather strap of the gag and on her ear. “Now don’t try anything stupid will you” she moaned and gargled something.. “I’m watching you”.. a slight adjustment allowed the head of my cock to nudge inside C’s considerably slick and gaping cunt. “You’ve been so good”.. I gave her another centimetre.. nothing more.. I nibbled and bit on her cheek, her neck and ear.. breathing on and into her.. another centimetre. “Good girls get rewards”.. I retracted slightly.. C groaned and crimped her muscles, clamping down tight around the rim of my crown, not wanting me to leave. “You like that hmm?”.. “You love cock don’t you”.. A quiet, slightly submissive and painful ‘Yeah’ came from C’s open mouth, so I rewarded her with an inch at best. ‘Yeah’ again as she attempted to push out and onto me, without any joy as I pulled back. C whimpered.. ‘Ahh hark’ whatever that meant. “Dont worry sweety, you’re gunna get your fill”.
‘Ahhhh’. I started to wonder if maybe the gag was annoying her. I’ve heard that some folk are inclined to a little lock-jaw after a while. Not that she’d been kicking up a stink or anything. Certainly I’d not heard the safe word uttered.. or even an attempt. I found myself thinking whether or not I wanted to fuck her face further, I definitely fancied throwing my seed across her parted lips and into her open mouth, that’s just a given. But my concern started to take over. I pulled out of her and slid my meat up her crack. I brought all my weight down on her and gripped both her wrists in a single palm. “Just relax”.. Fumbling at the strap I managed to undo the clip and release the gag. Now it was just the small matter of getting the ring out of C’s mouth. I decided to let her do the honours. “Take it easy now and give me the ring”. Allowing her arms the freedom to remove the gag I kept my weight on her. I listened as she struggled with the extraction; She’d been wearing it quite some time now.  “That’s it”... My forearm bore my weight across her shoulder blades. It took some effort, but C managed to twist the gag inside her mouth and then spat it onto the bonnet with a tinny clunk and a cry of relief. She was quiet, strangely subdued as she massaged her obviously aching jaw. I hadn’t realised just how powerful a restraint that gag was. “That’s better now isn’t it”.. the tautness in her body had relinquished. “You’re lucky I gave you the chance to have my cock down your throat”. 
The expletives began to flow from C’s mouth, she had been kept quiet for too long it seemed and she wasn’t happy. I kept her pinned to the bonnet and took the verbal, she was well within her right to be a little worked up. To a point. Having heard enough I grabbed a handful of her hair and reefed it back sternly. She squealed, but, like a kitten in her mothers mouth, submitted speedily.. “Are you quite done?”.. “Hmmm.. Are you?” “Potty mouthed little slut”.. My cock again found it’s mark, of its own accord. I threw it into her wildly for a minute, maybe more. As I did I found myself growling and swearing obscenities in response to C’s pitiful mewling. I wasn’t here to win friends. Using her hair as leverage assisted with the ramming. Sweat rolled off the tip of my nose and fell onto her back. Fucking can be such hard work. My piston like action brought me to the brink in next to no time, so, with tormented and overladen balls I removed myself, releasing C and letting her collapse onto the steely heat of the van. I slapped her hard across the butt and backed away. “Fuuuck”.. that was close.
I checked my cock.. A meniscal pearl filled the eye, glinting in the ambient light. Very close. I lifted my head and saw C’s arm flail, something shiny was coming at me.. I flinched and felt the solid thud of metal ring as it connected with my collarbone. With venom. “Arrghh” It hurt like hell and took me a moment to compute. C scrambled to her feet and took off into the woods. “Fucking bitch”. I gave chase, it was pretty dark outside the clearing and she couldn’t get far. I had the advantage of having a lovely pale white ass to guide me as my eyes adjusted. Adrenalin coursed through me as we swept through the outstretched limbs of the juvenile pine trees, scratching, whipping and prickling me on route. Although I felt none of it.
She was within reach.  “Come here”.. I reached out, grabbing at C’s arm, she fought back and wrenched herself free but just as she did she tripped, stumbled and hit the deck. I almost ran over her, but managed to stop just short. She’d had the wind knocked out of her and was gasping for air. I stood her up and frisked her, a brief assessment for any damage. She seemed fine. I threw her around and squeezed her into me, a standing spoon, locking her arms by her sides. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going hmmm”.. We shuffled to the nearest sizeable tree. I pressed C, face first into the coarse bark and snaked a hand around the white of her exposed throat. And squeezed. “Hmmm”.. I bent at the knees and positioned my dick for penetration. “Where you going?” I grunted as I punctured what was definitely her little butthole. ‘Owhh’.. “Whats that”.. I nudged in slightly. ‘Ahh fuck’..  “You trying to run away from me”.. she was resisting my intrusion and I let her. ‘Nnnn’.. I was already inside. I’ll wait. “Where you running to?”... ‘Please don’t’.. I held her firm and squeezed her throat a little tighter.. “Please don’t what?” I breathed into her ear.. “Don’t what?”.. as I pressed home another inch. ‘Please’.. she begged.. “Please what?”.. I felt her ass tighten around my cockhead. “Fuck that’s tight”.. I pushed in a tad more and pressed my face into her cheek.. “Please... what?”..  ‘Fuck me’ she uttered in a meekish tone. ‘Fuck me’.. the words themselves brought about a monumental release.. C melted in my arms and her arse gave in, literally swallowing the entire length of my throbbing cock. I warily maintained my hold on C, mindful of her potential to flip and at the same time plundered her willing bum. ‘Ohh fuck’.. she seemed to be enjoying it. I could barely speak, infact I couldn’t, far to absorbed in the sensations that were afforded me in this sublimely intimate moment. C arched out to meet my pendulum thrusting. There was barely enough light to see my steely pole as it slid effortlessly into the darkest space available on this little hard-body. But I watched intently. I held C to ransom here against the tree for as long as I could bear. I was a blurry mess of lust and decadence. She was more than receptive to my fucking and begged me to carry on. But that couldn’t be the way it ended.. I held back.. not wanting to give her a drop of my boiling seed in such a way.
That would be too easy.

choice cuts #17...

Hero Knows
by
We have Band
the reasonably little known London based 3 piece from Manchester who've come a long way over the last 4 years or so. They knock out a wicked live set of mostly upbeat and energetic electronic indie slash disko slash rock. I don't know.. listen and judge for yourself. Currently touring nice small rooms on the continent. Well worth the effort let me tell you.

Tuesday 14 August 2012

Please accept this little slice.. as an apology for my recent absence. I've been terribly occupied of late, but now that the show is over... my work here can continue.

Saturday 4 August 2012

Listen to the man...

Theres always a moment when we start to fall out of love, whether it's with a person or an idea or a cause, even if it's one you only narrate to yourself years after the event: a tiny thing, a wrong word, a false note, which means that things can never be quite the same again.

excerpt from 'The Salmon of Doubt'
by
Douglas Adams
the remarkable English writer and, come to think of it, multi-talented genius
Take me in your hands lover
if you will
and bring this want to life
It's you I crave from deep within
the place where kept my most heated
and darkest imaginings
It's in your hands
your exquisite and divine touch
that I lose all such thoughts
and inhibition
An expert in the manual arts
see how my lust has surfaced
In your hands