This picture reminds me of Once when I was Young. 15, maybe. And I had a very pretty boyfriend with whom I was learning the beginnings of desire, and sex. And we had a friend, his friend first, Tony. Tony and I got on very well. He was kind, he was sweet, his father was an alcoholic, I think. He didn't talk about it much, but I think he needed a lot. I wish I'd been older, then, maybe, more for him. But. Oh well. Once we kissed a little, me and Tony, played around a little in my basement bedroom before he had to run for the last bus out of the little rural village I lived in. We'd run around town that day, seen a favoured band busking outside the indie record shop, held hands, there was something about the Violent Femmes but I can't remember what.

He came home with me and my boyfriend went home with someone else, and it was the beginning of the end of our eight week weenie love affair, sadly.

But, before all that, before, before, there was this one time that we were all out, hanging about in the sun, obnoxious and young and full of ourselves, us teenagers. Sitting against the wall at the bus stop, in a row. I walked up to Tony, where he sat, with his long legs stretched out, and planted my feet on either side of his spread thighs with a bounce. Stomp, stomp, with my ... hmm, docs, it must still have been, with flowery scarves for laces. And there I stood in front of him with my crotch more or less at face height. And he leaned forward, and kissed me. Right on the zip of my jeans, warm and sweet on my mons, no lower. And I shrieked, and leapt and ran, laughing, all of us laughing, with the kiss branded onto me. It must still be, somehow.

Hot Fuck Sunday, late again

Oh, Logan, I have neglected thee. And you have a new website. And look what's on it!!




I'd offer to help, of course, but I have a bad track record ... last time I tried that I instantly shaved a stripe into someone's head. So I'd just have to blow all the hair off his neck instead.

from SexandCandy

Think of the temptation... you'd be sure you couldn't, you shouldn't... but then maybe you couldn't resist just nibbling on her ear, just a little. Or licking her jawbone. Or even, taking her knickers off and getting your hand sticky between her thighs.

And the next thing you know, your partner, or the confectioner, would be walking in on you, bent over her, covered in chocolate and shame...


:)

* Excuse the hideous typos I was guilty of in this post... I have typo-blindness. Talking the knickers off a chocolate woman?? Oh dear...

Hot Fuck Sunday, one-day late

water nymphs




I'd like to live in a culture where women bathe together. There's a story in the this, the way the water slowly embraces, the languid splish and splash of it lapping, the sluicing away of the sweat of the day in sunwarmed water, the caress of a soapy cloth, of soapy fingers sliding over smooth plump breasts and rounded stomachs. Water beading on soft limbs, hair piled up on heads, nipples stiffening in the cool air...

autosexual

I will admit that there are certain non-sexual things that turn me on. At times.

The smell of coriander, vinegar and chip paper, and my local, wonderful, Indian takaeaway bypass my stomach and hit me directly in my girl bits.

But this man fascinates me. And others who share his preference.

Funny ol world, really.

Why does porn matter?

I always like what Greta Christina has to say. Interesting comments too. I liked Robin Wolfe's thoughts about working with sex.

Hot Fuck Sundae Lite

This is good...

But I like this too...