Hot Sauce Magazine

Hot Sauce Magazine

A brand new magazine is out on our horizon. Hot Sauce demystifies sexuality using art, fashion and conversation. It’s seventies, sexy and sublimely designed. Engaging long-form text, striking photography and charming illustrations make up the content of the limited first edition.

According to editor-in-chief, Annabelle Peacock, Hot Sauce “is like a gossip column with morals”. Rather than the worship of celeb culture, it opens up the individual sexual experiences, perspectives and art from real people. Issue 01, THE TALK, is an eclectic mix of coming-of-age tales and stories of self-discovery.

To begin with, Bex (who you may have heard of from the popular blog Bex Talks Sex) discusses how their journey into kink unfolded their true gender identity. Kayla Lords provides us with another of our favourite articles as she shines a light on the taboo nature of living a 24/7 kink lifestyle.

Another personal essay sees one writer reminisces about the time when her psychic abilities enabled her to find her perfect match. Meanwhile, Jake Hall highlights the harmful impact that queer stereotyping can have on a young person trying to navigate their way as they mature.

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If that wasn’t enough, key sculptures from an emerging artist and designer means you never really know what you’re getting on the next page. It could be a silicone foot. Or, maybe a vulva made of liquid gold. Perhaps, it’s a series of photos dedicated to the natural enigma that is the female breast. And, don’t even get us started on the bunny illustrations. Add to that your very own kinky dictionary and a set of horoscopes like no other, Hot Sauce is a refreshing take on our most basic instincts.

According to their about section, “We applaud realism over aspiration. We love the word “smut”. We desire honesty. If you don’t, you can choke on it.” How promising. If you would like to get involved we have a hunch that they are on the lookout for fresh contributors and collaborators. In fact, following the success of their launch party last month they are quietly promising a host of events to begin in late Spring. So, if you want to get involved, buy the issue or simply find out more about them and what they do, check out their website www.hotsauce.sexy or give them a like on Instagram at @hotsauce.sexy – it utterly sizzles.

Hot Sauce Logo 1

 

Vagina-Monologues-Blog-Post

Guest Blog: The Vagina Monologues

I read The Vagina Monologues for the first time at drama school, five years ago. Hannah Cecily, a fellow drama student, and feminist mentor, pressed the book into my hands one day.

‘You must read this,’ she said, an earnest passion shining in her eyes.

I took it home and started reading it that night. From the very first page I was gripped and transfixed and as I read, my eyes were opened. I laughed and I cried and I shook with anger. I felt empowered, enraged, reassured, appalled, joyful and sad, then I felt them all over again. Every story touched me so deeply.

Vagina-MonologuesIn Flood, an old woman explains that after getting sexually excited on a date with her high school crush and getting her dress and his car seat wet, she thought there was something wrong with her and never touched her vagina or got sexually involved with anyone for the rest of her life. I felt a deep connection to this woman and felt so sad for all the sexual pleasure she had been denied. I ejaculated for the first time during a masturbating session in my mid-teens. I was so shocked and ashamed of myself and wrote in my diary that I would never masturbate again as ‘I wet myself when I orgasm’. It was magazines, the internet, and my female peers talking openly about sex that taught me what female ejaculation was and that it wasn’t disgusting or wrong. I wondered, had I been born fifty years earlier with no access to any of that, if the woman in the monologue might have been me.

Again and again, the stories highlighted how disconnected women can be from their vaginas, as a result of rape and assault, shame they were made to feel by parents or partners, and fear of their (or our) own sexuality. I knew then how important it is that we take back ownership of our sexuality and reconnect with our vaginas (something that Sh! is helping with marvellously by the way).

When Hannah asked me a few months ago if I would like to co-produce a production of The Vagina Monologues with her I knew I had to do it. The play is as potent and relevant now as it was then and it will be relevant until sexual assault and rape cease to be, and all women feel utterly connected to their vaginas and sexuality.

The process of putting the show together has been incredible. The fascinating and in-depth conversations that have arisen at each rehearsal and the level of respect and trust between us all is so special. Every single one of our cast members and directors has brought such truth and passion to the project and the result is a powerful, funny, heart-rending, and heartwarming production.

All proceeds from the night are being shared between four amazing charities: RESPECT UK and DVIP (Domestic Violence Intervention Project), both incredible charities who are addressing the huge problem of domestic violence by running preventative programs for perpetrators and would be perpetrators, thereby stopping it at its root; Rape Crisis, who offer support, advice and information to survivors of child sexual abuse, rape, and any kind of sexual assault; and this year’s VDay Spotlight campaign, Women in Prison, Detention Centres, and Formerly Incarcerated Women.

We would love you to join us in supporting these charities and celebrating vaginas, at 7pm on Tuesday March 5th at Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club. Amazing Sh! raffle prizes also up for grabs!

Buy your ticket for The Vagina Monologues here.


Together we can start to heal the wounds and one day make a safe world for our vaginas.


via GIPHY

Many thanks to Jacinta for writing this blog post.

Poly-Fancies-for-Blog

Guest Blog: Polyamory 101 by The Intimacy Coach

We are super-chuffed to have the Intimacy Coach aka the lovely Dr Lori Beth Bisbey with us today, sharing her expertise on polyamory: what it is, who it’s for and what to look out for. Read on!


Polyamory has become a very popular topic over the last 10 years. Everywhere you look at the moment, people are talking about polyamory and other kinds of non-monogamy.  It is trendy to have an open relationship.  People talk about how hard it is for one person to meet all/most of your needs and how much healthier it is to have a variety of places to get your needs met.  It’s the responsible way of managing varied and disparate needs.  After all, they are your needs.  Why should a partner be responsible for them?

In the past 30 years, I have worked with polyamorous couples, groups and singles as well as monogamous ones.  The differences are not found in the relationship style, they are found in the ways in which the people involved approach issues, conflict and the resolution of problems, commitment and the relationships themselves.  With all of this, your mileage may vary.  There are many different definitions used to talk about non-monogamy and each individual, couple or poly group create their own rules for their relationships.

Polyamory is ethical non-monogamy where people have more than one love and sexual relationship at the same time.   There are other forms of ethical non-monogamy that don’t involve having multiple romantic relationships but just involve multiple sexual relationships.  For example, swingers often meet at clubs or private parties and confine their escapades to these clubs or parties.  They may form friendships with some of the people they have sex with but they don’t usually form lasting love relationships or commitments.

Polyamorous relationships take many forms.  Some are hierarchical.  In these, there is a primary couple bond and other relationships are seen as secondary.   Some find this terminology harsh and prefer to see all relationships as egalitarian and to work together to give equal time, energy and priority to all relationship partners.  Others acknowledge that when people make a commitment to live together, share finances, raise children together and look after each other during times of illness and difficulty, these relationships take the most time and energy and often have priority.

Some people choose to live alone and have a variety of committed polyamorous relationships.  Some people form a polyamorous group that is faithful to each other.  Polygamous (one husband many wives) and polyandrous (one wife many husbands) marriages often fall into this category.   Some poly groups that are faithful are made up of a few couples or a triad (three people) or quad (four people).    Some people form a vee structure where the person in the middle is closer to the other two people than they are to each other.  They may not even be involved with each other.

However people choose to structure their relationships, two things are essential in polyamory: honesty and informed consent. In all polyamorous relationships, everyone involved is honest about their other partners.  All people who join these relationships give informed consent.  They discuss the structure of relationships and any rules and agree to take part and keep to any of the agreed upon rules.

What are the joys of polyamory?

Well, there is the obvious – multiple sexual partners who are interested in seeing your needs are met. For many people, even more important is multiple people who are emotionally available, supportive and interested in seeing your needs are met.

Compersion is the feeling of joy a person has when experiencing another person’s joy.  Imagine a toddler laughing with glee at petting a puppy.  Most people will find themselves feeling joy in response. Compersion is experienced on a spectrum from appreciation of your partner’s pleasure at more of a distance to intense sexual excitement because of your partner’s sexual excitement.

For example: Arla feels happy when Jethro is happy.  When he goes out on a date, she experiences contentment when Jethro is enjoying himself.  She does not want to know the details of his date nor does she want to be told all about the person he is dating.  Jethro wants all the details of Arla’s experiences. When Arla is excited, Jethro is guaranteed to get an erection. Compersion is one of the reasons why polyamorous relationships work well. Feeling compersion increases emotional intimacy, the bond and attachment that partners have to each other and to their partner’s other partners.  Compersion is seen as the opposite of jealousy.

Not all polyamorous people experience compersion and some monogamous people experience compersion.  It is something you can learn to experience by expanding your emotional repertoire.

Polyamory is interesting.  More relationships bring more variety of experience into your lives.   This can range from being part of raising children if you have not had your own biological children through to new cultural experiences through to hobbies that you may well have never discovered and explored.    Sexually, people who are polyamorous tend to be more flexible and happier to explore more new things in the bedroom.

There is almost always someone there to help with any given problem.  If you have partners a local area, then this includes physical help.  If your partners are long distance, this may usually be limited to emotional support (though sometimes financial support is there as well).  However, advance planning can mean that physical support is there as well.  A partner can visit to help out after you have surgery, for example. Partners can work together to sustain a household when a parent is ill.

What are the challenges of polyamory?

Time is a limited resource and juggling multiple relationships can be extremely challenging.  Problems with time and prioritising relationships are one of the most common issues that brings polyamorous people to me for help.

Excellent communication is essential for relationships to run smoothly and with minimum drama.  People who do best find that they are able to talk about their emotions, take responsibility for their own feelings, communicate with a minimum of blame and apologise effectively.  All of these are skills that can be learned and practiced until a person becomes an expert communicator.

Jealousy can be a challenge.  Most of the time, jealousy arises from feelings of insecurity or from a perception of favouritism.  If Jack is home without a date when Maria is out at a coveted party, he may feel jealous whereas if he is also out on a date, he may not feel jealous.  When jealousy is as a result of insecurity, it is often more difficult to deal with.  Sometimes a person simply insecure and others it is insecurity in the relationship that is the problem.  It is important for people to learn to own their jealousy and do what is necessary to manage their feelings without asking their partner to change behaviour in most cases.  Sometimes people need to re-negotiate the rules of their polyamory so that jealousy happens less often.

For example, Jane finds it difficult when Margaret tells her all the details of her escapades.  She finds herself jealous each time she has lots of details.  She asks Margaret not to share details and then she finds her jealousy decreases.  This type of negotiation can work well but only when the person understands that it is their jealousy, not something their partner is doing wrong.

Is polyamory for you?

Do you love emotionally intimate relationships and find yourself falling for more than one person at a time?  This is a good indication that polyamory might work well for you.

Are you emotionally literate and do you enjoy sharing your emotions with others?  If so, this bodes well for any relationship you get involved in and works especially well if decide to be polyamorous.

Do you have a high sex drive?  Polyamory is one way to make sure that your sexual needs get met.  In monogamy, differences in sex drive can cause big strains on a relationship.  Sex can become a battleground with one person feeling their needs are never met and the other feeling constantly pressured.  Having relationships with multiple partners means no pressure anymore as you know you can get your needs met within the network of partners.

Do you find people of multiple genders attractive and find it hard when you are in a monogamous relationship because of what you are giving up?  If so, polyamory is a relationship style choice that can give you the option to have all the relationships you want and take away that FOMO feeling.

If this has whet your appetite or if you have further questions, contact me about next steps at drbisbey@the-intimacy-coach.com.


Lori Beth BisbeyDr Lori Beth is a sex & intimacy coach and psychologist who works with individuals, couples and polyamorous groups to help them explore sexuality, explore kink and BDSM, recreate a healthy sexual identity after trauma as well as deepen their awareness and understanding about intimate relationships. Her mission is to take sex and conversations about sex from shadow to light. She hosts two podcasts: The A to Z of SexÒ and Sex Spoken Here every week. Book a discovery session to see how she can help you create a lasting sizzling authentic sexual life.

Foreign body

Guest Post: Imogen Butler-Cole on ‘Foreign Body’ at VAULT Festival

Today we have the wonderful and inspiring Imogen Butler-Cole with us, talking about Foreign Body, a play for the movement.

Foreign Body tells the story, through testimonial recordings, of Imogen’s healing following sexual assault alongside that of eight other survivors and of the perpetrator of one of the assaults.

What is Foreign Body about?

Foreign Body is a physical theatre play about healing after sexual assault – my own story, those of eight other survivors, and that of the perpetrator of one of my own assaults. It is told through verbatim – interviews with the people whose stories are being told, played in voice over. It is a solo performance but in this way we manage to tell several peoples’ stories.

What drove you to make Foreign Body?

Before I decided to tell my own story I was exploring the theme more widely and the main aim was to de-stigmatise the conversation around sexual violence. I felt that if we are not able to speak about it we would not be able to change it. As we worked we realised that true stories often make for the most powerful political theatre.

As it happened I was simultaneously going through a therapeutic process having recently uncovered my own story of surviving three separate sexual assaults. I had just met two other incredible women who had publicly shared their own stories and they both agreed for me to use their voices in the play. I was also inspired to reach out to the perpetrator of one of these assaults to start a kind of reconciliation process. This suddenly jumped out at the director and me as being quite a compelling story so we went from there. Eventually the perpetrator of this one assault agreed to have his voice included in the play and this now provides the cornerstone of the piece.

My motivation has continued to be opening up the conversation around sexual assault and in turn hopefully opening some minds to the reality that it affects us all in some way.

Who is Foreign Body for?

1 in 3 women face sexual assault in our lifetimes. We are all affected and we are all responsible. Therefore I think it is for everyone. It is time, as the #MeToo movement has shown us, for us to face up to the fact that we all know people who have been affected by this previously unspoken crime. The play can be uplifting for survivors as it points to a journey of healing and the fact that we can all be powerful again. It can be educative for people who know survivors and maybe aren’t sure how best to support them, or who want to understand their experiences without burdening their friend by asking them to talk about it. It is also for people who may have crossed lines without knowing it, and for those who may be at risk of doing so. Finally it is for anyone who passionately believes that we must address this issue and find a more positive way to move forward.

I stage discussion panels after every single show. I have special guests every night and we will be addressing different themes. For me this play is actually like a springboard into the discussion – it is there to serve the conversation as much as it is a stand alone piece of theatre. Particularly with this topic that has been so stigmatised for so long it feels as though we need the play as a jumping off point for the conversation. Otherwise people can feel uncomfortable talking about sexual violence – where do we begin? How do we make sure we say the right thing? With an issue that is so complex and so emotionally charged it can help to relate a set of personal experiences that the audience can then respond to in conversation. We will be covering some nuanced topics such as race and reporting sexual violence, the portrayal of sexual violence in the media and gender and sexual assault.

What challenges have you faced when it comes to staging issues surrounding sexual assault?

One challenge has been in dealing sensitively with the material that other survivors have contributed. Ten women agreed to entrust me with their most vulnerable stories and there’s a weight of responsibility that comes with that. I made sure that I prioritised their wellbeing throughout the process, from having someone to sit with them before and after the interviews to checking in with how much of the material they were willing for me to use, to giving them the choice of being named or anonymous, and always making sure they know when and where performances are going to take place.

Making this piece has been an exacting process personally. There have been several moments – usually in the lead up to presenting each version of the piece for the first time, before I’ve known how it was going to be received – when I have questioned why I was doing it, and if I would be able to go through with it. Once just prior to a week’s rehearsal for the final R&D I was badly triggered reading the victim statement of Brock Turner’s victim at Stanford. I felt weak and vulnerable for several days following the triggering and was unsure if I would recover in time. I took this to a friend and to the therapist I was working with at the time. They both helped me realise that it was more important for me to be safe than to go through with those performances. As it happened I felt strong enough to continue and we completed the piece in time. Now I have performed the play so many times and the response has always been so positive that I don’t have the same doubts before shows. I do often feel physically tired and it takes determination laced with a dash of righteous rage – and a focus on the need to tell these stories – to get me ready at the start of each show. In general though I feel strong and am exhilarated about being a part of this vital conversation.

How can we see Foreign Body?

Foreign Body will be at the VAULT Festival from 7-11 March at 6pm.

Tickets are available here:

https://vaultfestival.com/whats-on/foreign-body/

VAULT Festival takes place at The Vaults, Leake Street, London SE1 7NN

Each night there will be a themed post-show panel discussion with two very special guests:

7th March:  Dr Nina Burrowes (Psychologist and Campaigner), Sejal Chad (Psychotherapist); The Psychology of Recovery

8th March:  Sirin Kale (Broadly), Nathalie McDermott (On Road Media); Portrayal of Sexual Assault in the Media

9th March:  Laura Haynes (UN Women), Rachael Krishna (BuzzFeed); The Global Impact of

10th March | 3pm:  Tanaka Mhishi (Poet and Performer); Gender and Sexual Violence

10th March | 6pm:  Nimco Ali (Daughters of Eve, WEP), Lucy-Anne Holmes (No More Page 3); Activism & Sexual Assault

11th March:  Sharmaine Lovegrove (Dialogue Books), Sereena Al Noor (An Essential Woman); Race and Reporting Sexual Violence

 

Ebony and Ivory Hands

Guest Post: Ebony & Ivory

Who is ‘Ebony and Ivory’? 

We’re are a couple that work together as erotic massage therapists specialising in 4-handed massage for women, couple massage sessions and teaching people how to give a sensual massage. 
Jessica – (Ivory) is a highly qualified and experienced erotic bodyworker and somatic sexual educator. She has vast experience with people of all genders and orientations, her passion is to guide people to experience their full pleasure potential.
D (Ebony) is of African/American descent and hugely experienced in ancient East African sex practices including the art of female ejaculation (aKachabali)

 

What type of people book?

People who aren’t in a relationship and who want to receive sensual touch, relax and learn about their own pleasure, particularly people who are in-between relationships or are tired of the ‘dating games’ and still want intimate touch.
Also couples who want to learn about giving each other pleasure in a discrete, non-judgemental, sensual and fun environment.
Many of our clients lead busy, stressful lives – unfortunately, this is quite a regular occurrence these days. High stress levels, not enough sleep or being constantly distracted can lead to many people experiencing low libido and not putting self-care as a priority – this includes looking after your sexual self and making time for pleasure.

 

Why do people book?

Many women book a 4-hand sensual massage with us as they feel safe; we are a genuine couple, experienced and qualified.
For women who don’t have a partner, they come to relax and receive deeply sensual touch which connects them to their bodies especially during times when they may not be sexually active or have many opportunities for loving touch. 
We work with a lot of women who struggle to orgasm or are keen to learn to ejaculate after they learn about the benefits, and are curious to explore their bodies more without the dynamics of a partner relationship and its expectations. Many women first come to see us individually for a few sessions then bring their partners to either have a massage at the same time or have a tuition session where we teach them how to give each other a sensual massage. 
 

Where can people find you? How can I book?

Either book through the Ebony & Ivory website or via phone +44 7708 835756.
We’re offering all Sh! customers a special festive discount – 20% off any bookings made before 31st Jan 2018. 

 

We do in calls in a private studio apartment in East London, Londonfields or out calls as arranged. We also take bookings for private parties or festivals where people want to offer their guests sensual massage sessions.
 
Pleasure Island Parties are our regular sensual events that we host every couple of months in London and around the world, visit www.pleasureislandparties.com for more info. 
plane

Creative Juices: Flora’s African Exploits

Today we welcome Flora Titian to Creative Juices! Flora has generously offered us all two free chapters of her second erotic novel in the Flora series. The chapters are juicy and suggestive, and highly enjoyable… *wink*

For more of Flora Titian and her writing, head over to her blog at www.thevelvetpurse.com.  Follow Flora on Twitter: @thevelvetpurse.

Chapter 1

I love airports, well actually I love travelling in whatever form it takes.  In my experience, and I believe I have travelled enough to be able to profess to have some, the journey can be even more interesting and exciting than the destination. It seems I always manage to meet someone who is willing to indulge my need to turn a mediocre voyage into an unforgettable adventure.  Take, for example, the time I took the ferry from Patras to Ancona; this had the possibility to be the dullest 24 hours of my life, instead, fate intervened and I got chatting to twins, Demetrius and Giorgos – funny, engaging and drop dead gorgeous .  Identical – in every way, as I later discovered – we decided to share a cabin, save some money, and have some fun.  Double trouble turned out to be doubly amazing and I was treated to orgasm after orgasm and shagged over and over again, until finally, even I, was begging to be allowed to go to sleep – as past lovers will attest, I never prioritise sleep over sex, but those boys were insatiable.  Thinking back that was a crazily intense journey, I was walking like a cowboy for about a week after docking in Italy, totally worth it though – kind of wish I had taken their telephone number or at least an address.

As I walk forward to the check-in desk I can’t keep the huge smile from my face, I am going to Africa, god, I am so excited right now.

“Good evening madam, passport please.”

Taking my passport out of my bag I glance up and find myself looking into the face of possibly one of the most stunningly attractive women I have ever seen.  Skin beautifully smooth and the colour of melted chocolate, her huge, dark, soulful, eyes are framed by long luscious lashes, with beautifully full lips completing the package – I freeze, passport in hand, mesmerised.  Aware that I am probably staring open mouthed, and no doubt blushing a deep red, I give myself a mental shake, look away and hold out my passport in her general direction.   Wow, she was amazing, I have to take another look; taking a breath I raise my head, only to have her eyes lock with mine and send a bolt of desire shooting straight down into my groin – okay, that was interesting, totally unexpected, but definitely interesting.  Still caught in her gaze I notice a smug smile playing across her mouth, this gorgeous creature is obviously well aware of the effect she has on other people, and I was proving to be no exception – urgh, I hate being predictable.

Now, I guess, if I had to put a label on it – which I don’t like to do – then I would refer to myself as heterosexual, and this is only because, up until now, it has been interactions with men that have got me hot and wet.  I have, however, never ruled out the possibility of having sex with a woman, in fact I have always thought it would be rather cool.  I mean I check women out all the time, who doesn’t, they are splendidly beautiful, but it’s more with admiration, or, yes I admit, sometimes jealousy; I might think wow she has got the most amazingly gorgeous long legs, or, oh my god I wish my tits were as big and perky as hers.  I have, however, never, had the thought – fuck me I would love to have that girl’s tongue lapping at my pussy – until today that is.

“You have beautiful eyes.”

Her voice brings me out of my reverie and she is looking at my passport – not a great shot of me if I am honest.

“Although I think they are even more beautiful in person.”

Staring directly at me I feel my stomach drop and don’t have a clue what to say next.  Come on Flora, think of some sexy, flirty, come back, show her what you are made of.

“Your eyes are very beautiful also.”

She snorts with laughter and I feel as though I have just failed some kind of test, gauche girl rather than worldly woman.

“Well thank you Flora, that is very sweet of you to say.  Flora, you look like the kind of girl who usually travels business class.”

It is now my turn to snort, business class, yeah right, my mom booked this ticket for me, so I am just relieved that they aren’t telling me I am travelling in the hold; not that she can’t afford business class, just that she wouldn’t spend the money on me.

“An obvious oversight when booking the ticket I imagine.” She smiled and winked – wow great teeth as well. “I am upgrading you Flora, a gorgeous girl like you doesn’t belong in coach, you need to be relaxing and sipping champagne – with me attending to your every wish.”

Attending to my every wish. My heart starts beating quicker and I feel the flush return to my cheeks. My every wish – now that is definitely interesting.  I look down from her face and take in her white blouse, tightly stretched over impressively full breasts which are inadequately restrained by a lacy black bra, her pert nipples pushing enticingly out through the fabric. I know what I want to do, I want to run my fingers down from her throat, moving over her breasts and circling over those nipples, feeling them harden further under my touch. I want to slowly undue the buttons, enjoying revealing more of her, my fingers grazing her skin until I have opened her blouse fully, dragging it off her shoulders, I leave it halfway down her back; arms now effectively pinned against her sides I have full access and delight in pinching her nipples through the lace, my hands playing with each of her breasts, her groans of passion encouraging me.  Then, unable to wait any longer, bra straps would be dragged down to meet the blouse and her gorgeous tits, now fully exposed, would be mine for the taking.  Leaning forward and flicking her nipples with my tongue, emboldened by her moans I would take her breast deep into my mouth, alternating, first one and then the other, hands and tongue, hungrily feasting at will.

“He-llo”

A high pitched voice from the side jolts me out of my fantasy and I look across startled.  Wow, fascinating, long straight hair, dyed jet black, and pulled into a bun so tight it gave an instant face lift, green feline eyes are beautifully framed by long eyelashes, black eyeliner and perfectly sculpted brows, this boy has some serious makeup skills, and those huge, red, pouty lips could give Steve Tyler a run for his money; unfortunately, the fake tan shade, pure orangutan, was just hideous.

” Sweetie, I get that you, as mighty Cabin Crew, are only slumming it on check-in for today, but there is rather a long queue building.  If I get this flight off on time, I please the Captain, and oh god how I love to please him.” Winking suggestively at me I couldn’t help but snigger. “So please, stop cruising the passengers and get a wiggle on babe.”

Seemingly unconcerned with the comments, not affording him a response, she leisurely attached the baggage tag to my case.  Holding out my boarding card and passport towards me, I reached out to take them, watching as her hand slid forward to touch mine.

“I very much look forward to seeing you on board Flora.”

No hint of a smile this time, her eyes held mine for what seemed like the longest of moments, and I felt my desire dripping out of me.  This woman had turned me on just by checking me in for a flight, what then would she be capable of at 30,000 feet armed with champagne and a hot sandwich – I was really rather keen to find out.

 

Chapter 2

 

Impatient to see her again, I distracted myself by wandering around the airport shops, trying on outrageously expensive sunglasses that I had no intention of buying, drinking endless Espressos, and finally ending up in Wetherspoons for a glass of wine and flirty banter with a rather raucous stag party.  Still ridiculously horny and very wet, I considered a quick trip to the bathroom, there was an hour until the gate opened, so more than enough time for an orgasm.  I found myself, however, in the unusual position of wanting to wait, to find out what she had planned for the flight; although for the life of me I couldn’t imagine how anything was going to be possible once we were on board, I mean planes were hardly suitable for private trysts, were they?

Sitting at the gate I suddenly felt insanely nervous, what if I had misconstrued the situation, what if she was just being friendly and I had wrongly interpreted the open warmth of an African personality, and presumed that it meant she fancied me; well, I was about to find out, wait finally over I joined the queue, eager, despite my fears, to get on board and see her again.  I found my place and marveled at how much room I had, business class was seriously the way to travel.  Unable to resist playing with the seat controls, I delighted in all the gadgets around me, and when my childlike excitement finally dissipated, I stared, absent-mindedly out of the window, a ground crew guy immediately catching my eye, fuck what a great arse – breath on my ear made me jump and I felt my body react as her perfume filled the air around me.

“How do you like your seat Flora?”

I turned my head towards her, her face inches from mine, oh those lips, so full and kissable, the urge to lean forward and snog her was overwhelming.  Several hours fantasising about what I wanted to do to her, and what I wanted her to do to me, had resulted in desire overriding all sense of appropriateness – of which, to be fair, I didn’t have much at the best of times.  Come on Flora, get a grip, you aren’t going to kiss this woman now, not with all these people walking past, reluctantly I moved slightly away and she stood back up into the aisle.

“Thank you so much for the upgrade, this is just the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, this seat is seriously amazing.”

“You are most welcome, I want you to be very happy and relaxed Flora, you have got a long night ahead of you.”

Leaning, once again, towards me, she placed her hand on my shoulder, her shirt falling forwards, giving me an unobstructed view of those glorious breasts; my breath caught as she slid her hand downwards from my shoulder, fingers grazing my nipple, before she slowly pulled away and stood up.  Panting and breathless with desire, my nipple tingled from her, albeit brief, touch, oh god I was totally at this woman’s mercy, completely in control of the situation she obviously had a plan of action, and I found this unbelievable hot.  Squirming in my seat, she stood there, staring at me, the intensity of her eyes on mine making me writhe with passion, desperate to be touched.  As if reading my mind she suddenly smiled at me.

“Soon Flora, very soon, I will give you what you want.”

Reaching up into the overhead locker she pulled something out and threw it into my lap, surprised I looked down, a denim skirt, what the hell? I looked back up and raised my eyebrows questioningly.

“It’s mine.  When the plane is in the air and the seat belt sign has been taken off, I want you to go to the bathroom in front of you, I want you to take off your jeans and knickers, and I want you to put this skirt on instead.  Can you do that for me Flora?”

All coherent thought now totally overridden by desire, I nodded, and she smiled.

“Thank you Flora, that will help me a great deal in making sure you have a very pleasurable flight.”

And with that, she was gone.

I didn’t see her again for the next half an hour and presumed she was busy helping other passengers and preparing for take-off.  Come on Captain Jack or whatever your name is, let’s get this bird in the air, the waiting was making me crazy.  Finally airborne, I sat, staring at the seat belt light, gripping the skirt tightly in both hands as though someone might come and take if off me, the ‘bing’ sent me flying out of my seat like a greyhound of out a trap and I dove into the bathroom and locked the door.

Staring back at me from the mirror was not the sexy goddess I had hoped to see, face flushed with lust, my hair looked like a birds nest from where I had been twisting strands around my fingers for the last few hours in frustration.  I splashed some water on my face and clawed through my hair, attempting to pull it back into some semblance of a style.  Needing to wee I pulled off my jeans and knickers and once finished I took my hand and pumped soap and water onto it, I wanted my pussy squeaky clean for the fun ahead.  Wow, it felt good to touch myself, god, I was burning hot and so wet, not wanting to wash away too much of my grool, I carefully patted myself dry and pulled on the skirt.  Fuck me it was short, I tried to get a look at the back to check my arse cheeks weren’t hanging out below the hem, but the tiny, blurry, mirror was hardly conducive for this and I had to give up.  Tugging it ineffectively down, conscious of my lack of underwear, I took a breath and let myself out of the bathroom, scurrying quickly back to my seat, jeans and knickers in hand.

So now what?  No sign of her.  The coolness of the cabin was chilling the wetness dripping out onto my thighs and making me even more aware of my state of undress.  Pulling my legs together I leant forward, hugging my knees with my arms.

“Flora.”

She was back, finally.

“I like your skirt.  Can you sit back please so that I can take a better look at it.”

Letting go of my knees I sat back into the seat and let her inspect me.

“It looks great on you, a perfect fit.”

Reaching forward she pulled at the hem as though examining the cloth, I gasped, her fingers now achingly close to my pussy, instinctively I opened my legs, desperate for her touch.  My eyes closed in anticipation of feeling her fingers on me, and I groaned in frustration when I felt her hand move away.  Looking up I was met with a smirk.

“It isn’t going to be quite that easy Flora.  There is something I need you to do for me first.”

What the hell was she on about now, if it wasn’t for desire clouding my brain I might have got irritated at the delay, lack of patience being a constant struggle for me – sighing, I nodded, fine, whatever she wanted, I was going to do it.

“I want you to walk along this aisle for me Flora, nice and slowly, and keep going all the way along until you reach the back of the plane.  And then, when you get there, I want you to go into the bathroom, I want you to stick two fingers into your pussy and get them dripping wet from your sexy grool, and then, I want you to walk back here to your seat where I will be waiting.”

Oh my fucking life, she can’t be serious, this skirt barely skims my arse, I know that now as when I sat down my bare skin hit the seat and I had to hold on to the front to keep from exposing my muff to everyone.  If I walk along the aisle anyone paying attention is going to be afforded glimpses of my bottom – if not more.  Fuck.  What to do?  From the way she is looking at me this is non-negotiable, and then what, this just ends here, oh no, no, no, no, I am way too turned on now, past the point of no return, I have to keep going.

I nod, and she moves to one side to let me out into the aisle in front of her.  I turn to face the back of the plane, hesitating at the sight of all those people I need to get past, in an hour or so they would all, probably, be asleep, but now they are still settling, looking around the cabin, bored and in need of distraction.  I jumped as I felt a tug on the back of the skirt, fingers grazed the cheeks of my arse, and her breasts pushed against my back as she leant towards me.

“Your arse is incredibly sexy Flora, this skirt is just the perfect length to show it off, I think many of your fellow passengers will watch you pass by with enthusiasm.”

Desperately turned on I pressed back as her fingers became more insistent, now stroking deeper and grazing my pubic hair, but falling, agonisingly short, of where I wanted them to go.  As the hand was removed I had the irrational urge to stamp my foot like an irate toddler.

“Now off you go, I will be watching, and waiting here for your return.  Don’t forget what I need you to do with your fingers, if you forget you will have to walk back again, I will be checking – oh, and don’t dry yourself off in the bathroom, I want to see the wetness dripping down your thighs.”

A slight shove from behind got my reticent feet moving and I started walking self consciously along the aisle, after a few paces I looked back over my shoulder and was afforded a wide smile and a nod of encouragement, swallowing, I turned back and carried on.

Talk about a walk of shame, keeping my gaze firmly on the ground, I could feel people’s eyes on me as I approached, the shortness of my attire, I am sure, eliciting a plethora of responses, shock, approval, desire, distaste; I cringed feeling people swivelling around in their seats as I passed, no doubt wanting to see if the back view was just as revealing.  Well they wouldn’t be disappointed, I could feel the hem of the skirt skimming my bottom about three quarters of the way down, so my arse was most definitely out for all to see.  After what seemed like an interminably long walk I finally reached the bathroom and plunged inside.  Leaning my back against the locked door, I released the breath that I hadn’t realised I was holding, Oh fucking hell, I have got to walk back again in a minute – what the hell have you got yourself into Flora?  Could I be arrested for indecent exposure, after all I was in public and, effectively, naked from the waist down?   Concerns aside I couldn’t help but admit that it was rather intoxicating, knowing she was watching and getting off on other people inspecting me as I passed – god I love a bit of kink.  Remembering my other task I move my fingers onto myself and am shocked at how wet I am, grool is literally dripping out of me onto my thighs, just as she foresaw it would – am I that easy to read?  Pushing two fingers deep inside, my slippery wetness allowed easy access, and I groaned, desperate to stroke my now pulsating, rock hard clit, but instead, eager to return, I removed my fingers and resisted the urge to dry off my legs  – okay, time for the long walk back.

Surprisingly, instead of mortification, the whisperings, this time, make me feel sexy and powerful; I am enjoying  people checking out my arse, and the thought that they might, also, be able to see my hot, wet, pussy makes it even more of a turn on.  She is standing there, waiting for me, and as I approach I can’t help but smile and raise my eyebrows, triumphant in my daring.  She nods towards the seat and I collapse down into it, now what?

“Well done Flora, you did amazingly well, you had lots of admiring glances, and many people desire you now.  But they can only look, they can’t have you, you are mine, do you understand?”

Oh this is seriously sexy, I nod my consent, my breathing now shallow and fast, as feel my passion growing exponentially.

“Now did you do the other thing I asked you to do?  Did you put your fingers inside your pussy for me Flora?”

I nod, and she holds out a hand towards me; hesitating for a moment, unsure, I then put my hand in hers and watch as she wipes my fingers under her nose.

“Mmmm, you smell good Flora, now I wonder how you taste?”

Eyes never leaving mine, her tongue slowly licked the wetness from my fingers, and then taking them deep into her mouth, she sucked hard, causing me to gasp as a new eruption of passion exploded within my groin, and had me dripping, unrestrainedly, onto the seat.  Oh my god, okay, whatever I have said before, I was wrong, this is officially the most erotic moment of my life – well, you know, so far.  Feeling myself tense, I wonder if I might actually be able to orgasm like this – now that would be a first – to cum without any actual stimulation to my pussy, I close my eyes, edging closer to climax, as her mouth and tongue continued to fuck my fingers.

My eyes fly open as she lets go of my hand, and I sit their panting, waiting for the next move. Pulling my skirt up towards my waist, I am fully exposed for her perusal.

“Open your legs a little more for me please.”

I moved my legs apart, moaning in frustration – just touch me already.  Her standing there, looking my pussy, was unbelievably sexy, my lips heavy with lust were clearly visible under my pubic hair, now soaking and sticky with grool.

“Look how wet and swollen you are, desperate to be touched I imagine?”

I nodded frantically, “Yes please, please, I need you to touch me.”

Smiling she released my skirt and stood up, leaving me still exposed, throbbing and aching to be stroked.

“You are not quite ready for that, yet, but it will happen soon, very soon, I promise.  Now I need to do some work, but I will be back with champagne for you, just relax Flora – all things come to those who wait.”

It was seriously all I could do not to scream, this was torture, exquisitely seductive torture, but torture nonetheless.

 


Feeling inspired to pen your own sex fantasy? If you’d like to submit a story to be published on the Sh! blog, please hop on over to this page for more info on Creative Juices.

Creative Juices: And Eddie Still Makes Three

Creative Juices: And Eddie Still Makes Three

Hey there, thanks for joining us!

Today we’re excited to have Zak Jane Keir with us, sharing a teaser from her story And Eddie Still Makes Three from Rule 34, a brand new collection of weird & wonderful fetish erotica.

The book contains ten very different stories of uncommon desires and strange, lustful obsessions. Some are delicious, some will unsettle you, some might even make you cry…

Rule 34: if it exists, someone’s kinky for it.

Enjoy!


AND EDDIE STILL MAKES THREE (extract) by Zak Jane Keir

It took over a year of occasional meetings – Jonathan was studying mediaeval literature, so he was never likely to encounter Noel in a tutorial or seminar. There were parties, though, and the student discos that set out to cater to those who wanted something other than rave or Britpop. Every so often, they’d run into one another, and there came a time where they really began to talk more. One or the other of them would bring up a news story featuring the Paris catacombs, or Kensal Green Cemetery’s open day, or some more subtle and sensitive horror film they had both seen but few other people had even heard of. Usually, though, any such conversations would be cut short by someone else – frequently one of the pretty Goth girls who Noel appeared to find so easy to get on with – and Jonathan would end up going back to his own room and lying awake, stroking himself, thinking of things he could barely describe to himself, let alone anyone else.

Much later, Noel would tease Jonathan about the night they got together, and about his previous assumptions that photographers and painters never read enough books. “Took you long enough to bring it up,” he would say. “We’d have had at least six more months of fucking each other stupid if you’d only mentioned the bloody book at the start.” Jonathan always countered with the perfectly reasonable point that Noel could have just as easily initiated that particular topic, but there came a time when it was far too painful to be funny. That was when they fully understood how little time they were going to have, and the idea of having wasted any in the past became unbearable.

They were sitting on the same sofa, at yet another party, and they’d discovered that both of them took their Gothic identities as far as loving some of the original Gothic literature, and were well away on The Mysteries of Udolpho: specifically, the idea of the skeleton behind the black veil.

“Bet they were all having a wank over it, though,” was the passing remark made by the girl climbing over them in search of more beer. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Weirdos.” Neither of them knew her, and neither of them ever bothered seeking her out afterwards, but they both remembered the comment because of what happened next.

“Well, I would, definitely,” Noel said, and the look in his eyes made it utterly unavoidable: Jonathan leaned forward and kissed him, full on the mouth. He drew back almost instantly, terrified of what he had done, expecting a punch in the face or, at the very least, for Noel to jump up and abandon him. But Noel simply said. “Finally. Shall we get the fuck out of here?”

They fled the party, giggling, holding hands, but it wasn’t going to be quite that easy.  Jonathan shared a room with a quiet but good-natured law postgrad, who he would have felt guilty about disturbing and Noel had a nosy landlady who didn’t allow overnight visitors. Still, it was early May and reasonably warm.

There was a little churchyard, apparently just a couple of streets away from the party, which had a reputation both of them had heard plenty about. Naturally, it was allegedly popular with various illicit couples, though no one ever admitted to going there for sex or even knowing anyone who had done in terms other than “My mate’s girlfriend’s ex did it on top of one of the tombs”.

When they got there, though, after a meandering stroll with pauses for kissing in shop doorways, there turned out to be locked gates and a high stone wall.  They looked at each other and Jonathan felt a terrible pang of loss and frustration, but Noel laughed, and pulled him close for another kiss. “See that nice dark alley down the side? Let’s go down there.”


Want to know what happens next? Buy a copy of Rule 34 and you’ll find out…

Feeling inspired to pen your own sex fantasy? If you’d like to submit a story to be published on the Sh! blog, please hop on over to this page for more info on Creative Juices.

Lips B&W

Creative Juices: I Make You Suffer

We’re very excited about this third instalment of Creative Juices; a sex fantasy called I Make You Suffer by Alexandra Grey. It’s a sassy piece, focusing on female pleasure.

 

At this point Alexandra doesn’t have a Twitter handle or website for you to visit, but we hope to have her write for Creative Juices again.

 

Until then, here’s her fantasy for you to enjoy!

 


 I MAKE YOU SUFFER by Alexandra Grey

I like to think about what it would be like if you wanted to fuck me, and I made you suffer for it.

We’re somewhere private, maybe a bathroom or cloakroom. Leaning up against a shadowy wall, there’s distant music and voices, but mostly we’re absorbed in each other. My back is against the wall and you’re grinding your pelvis into mine, and dropping kisses down my neck. I’m melting into the sensation – I’ve been drinking, everything is warm and a little fuzzy. You say ‘please…please…’ into my ear. I respond by laughing, not really taking you seriously. The kisses move back up my neck and you kiss my mouth, pushing my head back into the wall, penetrating me with your tongue until I sigh.

You move your lips back down my neck, down into my cleavage. Grazing the tops of my breasts with your mouth, almost instinctively, you move your hand up to press it against one of them and squeeze slightly. I laugh again, and push them away, and you make a little disappointed noise into my collarbone. The noise entertains me; I’m revelling in your neediness and the power I have over you. I place my hands on your hips, and pull them suddenly into me, making you gasp. As your hands go back to my body I take them and place them flat against my chest, just above where the curvature of my breasts starts, and I push them, sliding them down my torso, almost ignoring your reaction while I enjoy the sensation.

I lean back against the wall and look at your from under my eyelids. You take this as an invitation and lean in to kiss me but I dodge your mouth and turn away to accept your kisses on my neck. You’re becoming frustrated and you unconsciously ball up some of my dress in your fist, and at first I soothe you by starting to kiss your mouth – but it’s deceptive, and after kissing you deeply for a moment I pull back to see you looking hungrily at me. I bring my hand up to your mouth and slide in a finger, hooking it over your teeth and pulling you close to my face. ‘Did you want to…?’ I say. You nod insistently.

I push us off the wall and turn us around so that your back is against it and I’m leaning on you, pushing my face into your neck as I say ‘…No, we can’t…not here…’. As I’m saying this I grind my crotch into yours. I can feeling your cock under my pelvis, starting to get hard. You swallow and try to breath normally. You almost want to push me away, to end the frustration, but my hands are now massaging your bottom through your trousers as I make lazy circles with my hips, making you harder and unable to go back to the party. I pull back and watch your face as I slowly unzip your trousers, and slide my hand inside to gently rub the head of your cock through your boxers. You gasp and realise how dry your mouth is. You’re almost nervous, this wasn’t how you expected this detour to go.

My hand is warm and soft as I pull your cock out of your trousers. I start making lazy circles with my thumb around the tip of your cock. You stifle a moan. This encourages me, I’m enjoying your discomfort as if it was touch and I make it worse by gently stroking one of your nipples through your shirt with my nail. The noises you’re suppressing become more pathetic and insistent. You’ve stopped touching me, your palms are now flat against the wall behind you, more to stay standing than anything else.

I chuckle and pause, looking up at you. ‘Do you want to put your cock inside me?’ You can only get out a ‘yeah’ and I say ‘Just stay there. If you move, I’ll leave’.

Still with my body pressed against yours, while I look into your eyes, I reach down and slide up my dress. When I reach my waist, my dress gathered in one hand, I turn around and, hooking my thumbs into my knickers, slide them slowly down, bending to push them down my legs, and push my naked arse into your cock. You watch as your cock is enveloped by my arse cheeks when I straighten up. I lean back against you, feeling your shaft press into my arsehole and cunt, dragging my dress up further so I can run my hands over my nipples.

I bring my fingers up to your mouth, to wet them, and then rub them onto the tip of your cock. You’re still braced against the wall, and as I push the head of your cock against the entrance of my arse, rubbing it up and down where it’s most sensitive, you involuntarily say ‘oh god’. I smile and lean back against you, pushing the head of your cock slightly inside my arse. When you look down, you can see that my eyes are closed, my head is leaning back against your chest and one of my hands is slowly pinching and releasing one of my nipples.

You’re still not touching me, you’re worried that if you moved you’d fall over. Only the very end of your cock is inside me and you desperately want it to be more, and for me to move faster and give you some relief from this tension. But you can’t, you know you have to stay still, that I’m in control. While one of my hands is rubbing my nipples, the other has started circling my clitoris. The little noises of almost pathetic frustration that you’re making are turning me on, making me touch myself faster and bring myself closer to orgasm.

The movement from me pleasuring myself is causing me to rock back and forth on your cock and as it almost slides in further you whimper and gasp. As I orgasm, the muscles of my arse twich around you and you gasp for breath, unable to control your reactions, groping at the wall behind you and whispering ‘oh god, oh god’ under your breath as I come.

When I’m done, I exhale with satisfaction, and slide myself off your cock, pushing my dress back down. You hope I’ll turn around for a kiss, or to help you recover from my orgasm.

But I merely bend down, pick up my knickers, and walk back to the party, without even glancing behind me.


Feeling inspired to pen your own sex fantasy? If you’d like to submit a story to be published on the Sh! blog, please hop on over to this page for more info on Creative Juices.

FACE UP CLOSE

Creative Juices: Do It.

Hello there, thank you for stopping by for the second instalment of Creative Juices!
Today we have a rough sex-fantasy by @Nookysemper, a hot & heavy story that’ll have you feeling juicy in no time. Just so you know, this story includes breath play & asphyxiation kink. If that’s not your thing, we recommend hopping off this page now…
But – if you love kink and you want more, head on over to NookyEverAfter (once you’ve read her story below, of course). Enjoy!

DO IT by Nookysemper

You’re on your back, forearms flat on the bed, fingers digging into the sheets, and he’s pounding you, like, really pounding you, hands tight on the curve of your waist, pulling you up onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. You’re curled up towards him a little, shoulders off the mattress, watching his face, waiting. His eyes flick up, and you don’t even say it, don’t even say anything, just raise your eyebrows a little.

Yes. Do it.

He’s panting hoarse, breathy. You can feel the quick flutter of his heart where your breasts are brushing up against his chest. He drags one of his hands up your body and settles it over your throat, fingers set together, slides it a little more so his thumb is wedged up in the crease of your jaw.

‘Baby,’ he says, and shifts his shoulders forward, lets the weight of his body press against your throat. He holds the pressure steady till you’re gasping, sucking hard for dizzy, thready breaths. You can feel him watching your face, watching it hard, and the feeling makes something float under your ribs. There’s a thrum of adrenaline in your spine and a red fog behind your eyelids, blurring your vision, and your senses scutter and dissolve somewhere between the slick weight of his cock filling you, no, fucking you, and this sudden suffocation, sensory obliteration.

He’s pounding urgently, now, making punchy noises under his breath. He lifts his hand for a second, holds it above your throat, and you have time for two ragged breaths before he clamps it hard over your face, not just your mouth but your nose too, and something in your brain stem fuses out. Your body is bucking against him, wild, something apart from you. The world’s red-dark and your spine is alight and his hands, his hands are hard on your face and his cock is hard inside you, pulsing, and the ropey muscles of his arm are locked and quivering, holding you down, holding your breath inside you. You’re past all thought, soul-sprung cipher of screaming flesh, and he makes a great guttural noise and comes, comes, comes.


Feeling inspired to pen your own sex fantasy? If you’d like to submit a story to be published on the Sh! blog, please hop on over to this page for more info on Creative Juices.
SITTING ON BED

Creative Juices: Tonight

Welcome to the very first story published on Creative Juices, the hub for creative writers and lovers of erotic stories! Here is where you get your juices flowing, your mojos growing – and we’re hoping you’ll get off spectacularly too…

Today we’re sharing a **hot** fantasy written by our friend Candysnatch. Whilst she’s an accomplished (and dedicated!) toy reviewer, she has chosen not to include sex toys in her story, opting instead for fingers… Enjoy!

TONIGHT by Candysnatch

Staring into the mirror I survey the damage, face in disarray, hair a shadow of the curled perfection it was when I left the house. Tugging at the lash strips adorning my lids I flash back to earlier. So much flirting, so much sexual tension. Alcohol always makes me horny but being around her is hard at any time.

Slowly wiping away my carefully applied make up my mind tip toes through a slideshow of images. Her fingers intertwined in mine as we danced, her hand in the small of my back as we stood at the bar, the way she flicks her hair behind her ears as she laughs. I wonder if she’s sat in her bedroom removing the mask she wore this evening.

Finally, bare faced I begin to unpin my hair. Soft curls cascade around my naked shoulders reminding me of her touch. Her fingers lightly stroking down my neck as we grow ever closer. Girly chit chat laced with heavy sexual undertones. She bites her lip as I regale her with my latest relationship drama. I find it hard to drag my eyes from her mouth. I want to bite her lip.

My bedtime ritual is over. All traces of my glamourous façade removed I sit in front of my mirror as naked as when I was born. No pretence. No filter. Closing my eyes, I flick through the slide show, fast forward to the good bit. The moment when alcohol made me brave. When I could take it no more and kissed her.

Her perfume fills my senses as her soft lips welcome me. Gently responding, unsure at first. I trace my fingers up her bare thighs, relishing the feeling of her skin. Mimicking the moment outside of my memory I part my thighs.

Suddenly she’s hungry, and she’s mine. Her warm wet mouth opening to me, her hands in my hair as she lets down that final barrier. Sat in front of my mirror I touch my own warm wetness remembering her passion.

I reach up and softly cup my tits. Rolling and pinching my hardening nipples between my fingers. Desperate to recapture the sensation of her hands sliding under my bra, the lust courses through me as my nipples remember her delicate pinching touch.

I move to my bed, filled with heady memories. Picturing the look on her beautiful face as I slid my hand between her legs and felt the soaked cotton of her thong. Stroking her, teasing her. I suck my fingers, savouring the last remnants of her taste.

Gently stroking my dampened fingers over my aching clit as my brain offers me an audio playback of her delicate moans directly in my ear. A hotwire to my cunt. Plunging my fingers inside myself, echoing the way I fucked her. Curling my fingers up to meet her need. Come to me baby, come for me. As my climax crashes over me I call her name lost in the sensation of memory.


Feeling inspired to pen your own sex fantasy? If you’d like to submit a story to be published on the Sh! blog, please hop on over to this page for more info on Creative Juices.