Monthly Archives: May 2016

Scents and Sensibility

It only takes a light drizzle to

ignite the garden smells

wriggling through the open door to

meet the slowly-maturing scent of a

leg of lamb roasting full of

garlic and rosemary.

 

Tonight we will eat our fill, the

tang of mint already on my tongue, and

tomorrow, I just know, there will be a

sudden rash of roses.

Causal Sex

That first time when we had

just been introduced and we found

so many things we both loved and

couldn’t stop talking so that

when you were about to leave I found the

courage to ask you to

that party up in the hills where we

kissed in the dark garden

left quietly

kissed madly on my friend’s sofa

your breasts bare but your

hand stopping mine

your libertine self for the first time

knowing this shouldn’t just be

casual sex.

“By Cock, they are to blame.”

Each night I dread putting on that costume,

pulling on that character, her plain

shift, knee-length stockings, the hated

“pair-of-bodies”, farthingale, bum-roll,

petticoat, kirtle, partlet, all topped with the

splendid silk gown and for “authenticity”

no knickers, so that I feel

naked despite so much clothing, so

obsessed with my bare sex, so

alive to “country matters”.

 

I think of the boys who played my part but

with a part I didn’t have, dangling—

did they have some codpiece, some

protection I am not allowed?

“Beginners” doesn’t mean me so

finally finished I can look at myself:

I am 26 but look 16 so if I were her I

could be married and

dead of my fourth child by now and

I think of it…..No

 

I think on’t. Think of being just a

poppet (but a poppet with thoughts and

hormones) bred to be bred,

pimped by my family for favours,

being prim and proper yet

panting like a bitch in heat when the

moment was propitious, and it doesn’t help that the

hero is hot, the lights broiling, the

clothes heavy and my inner nakedness a

weight within me, like lead.

 

The words strip me, stripe me: I look

66 in the mirror as the dresser

removes the baggage, leaving me my

shift for modesty, though what

modesty is left after such shredding?

Later there will be a club, me

rubbing myself against my boy, trying to

rub her off me, be 16 again, alive,

unharboured anywhere, an

ocean calling me.

 

But he will pull me to him, whisper

“Ophelia tits?”, snigger, and I will

suddenly be back on that stage in my

wet shift, amongst all those

other dead bodies.

Natalie Breuer

Natalie. Writer. Photographer. Etc.

Katya Evangeline

From Missionary to Sex Preacher and Loving It!

Sara in LaLaLand

Welcome to my world.

LittleSwitchBitch - An Irish Lass blogging about all things sex

Irish Sex Blogger • Lover of Kink, Lingerie, Strong Coffee & Sunshine •

cleareyedgirl

moments : words : images

Are You Thrilled

because the story must be told

Lapsed Catholic Wife

Rediscovering pleasure. 2016 Adventures of an Ashley Madison female

Surviving the affair....the cheaters perspective

I cheated. Yip I did it, I am not proud of it, but that won't change a thing. This is my story of me trying to survive one day at a time. No guarantees....

Back in Stilettos Again

diary of a San Francisco serial dater

Let It All Go

Leaving behind the expectations of pure innocence in these musings.

Sex Is My New Hobby

does what it says on the tin... (18+)

vpache

This and That

My First Five Years

My first five years in Shanghai

The Other Livvy

My secret alter ego...

Being Blacksilk

Real sex, real kink. Erotic fiction, photos and drawings. Sex toy reviews.