Achy Achy Cunt

You can tell your mutt your girlfriend is a slut

You can use my dildos when I’m gone

Or you can tell your mates that I fucked on tape

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Metal

I love the feel of metal on my skin. Whether it be a blade, a needle, a cuff or a chain, the cool weight of steel pressing against me gives me more than just the shivers.

Some of my loves enjoy taking advantage of my metal appreciation. Adonis, in particular, takes delight in tormenting me with knives and pins, sometimes merely laying them on my flesh, othertimes scoring me deeply or cutting me shallowly. I whimper and try not to wriggle with arousal and desire, and all the while I am incredibly aware of his cold metal and my hot blood.

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Entangled

So many things tie us to this world we live in, and to the people in it. Some are ties of gossamer, some are string, some rope, and some unbreakable chain.

Many ties can be removed, with time and patience, the links severed and the connection lost. Others, though, are deliberately strengthened, tested, and made hard and fast.

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Made of Awesome

When I was going for job interviews recently, Hermes made a point of telling me that I am ‘made of awesome’ – a wonderful statement which made me grin, and which I promptly took to heart. I know many things (good things) about myself, but that one had, for some reason, escaped me.

Ever since, it’s become something of a catchphrase, mantra, and useful reminder. I am made of awesome. Yup, I am made of awesome!

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Sinfully boring

Usually when I do a post about my latest review, I have a swathe of saucy photographs to go with it. Me opening the box the toy is nestled in, me enthusiastically testing the toy, and, with any luck, me orgasming with the toy. It’s fun for y’all to read, and it adds a little something to the review process for me, too!

Not so for the SinFive Akmeo. While I opened the toy, used the toy, and orgasmed with the toy, the Akmeo just wasn’t that exciting - it did the job, but wasn’t worth exclaiming about.

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Queen of Hearts

The Queen of Hearts

she made some tarts

all on a summer’s day;

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Skoda Slut, part 2

When we left our intrepid exhibitionist, she was in the process of de-clothing herself whilst seated in a Skoda …

Alas, taking off all of my clothes was not a practical notion – although I promptly divested myself of my shoes (in the depths of the footwell), my cardigan (somewhere on the back seat), and my singlet I know not where (bra? there was no bra!). Also stripping off some layers, Hermes removed his hat and hoodie, leaving him clad in t-shirt and jeans.

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Spent

I’m not really here right now (so please leave a message after the post). Why am I not here? Well, I’m all shagged out. Kaput. Exhausted. Knackered. Every once in a while everyone on my dance card seems to want to tango, foxtrot, mambo, do the Charleston, and boogie-woogie one after the other after the other – and I don’t get near enough sleep over the course of the week!

So this is me. Taking a break.

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