Where Are My Knickers?

While I love to be naked, if I’ve put clothes on then knickers are generally a part of the package. It’s pretty rare for me to be without them, be it beneath jeans, a skirt, or a dress (sarongs are an exception – fuck it!). So it was a tad strange to me to be out with m’Lady for a visit to Kinglake National Park, fully clad in skirt, singlet, socks, sneakers, sunblock and parasol… but without anything between my legs except, well, me.

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Oxter Love

I love my oxters. What are those, you may ask? My armpits. My lovely, hairy armpits. (I also love the word oxter!) While, like many teen girls of my generation, I immediately began shaving my pits when I hit puberty, for the last 1/2 dozen years I’ve left them au naturel, much like my pubic hair (and like the hair around my nipples, too). I absolutely love them that way.

My oxter hair is incredibly soft. It’s fairly long – certainly long enough that I often tug on it, groom it, feel it. While I still use deodorant, I appreciate my natural aroma much more, and it combines with my deodorant of choice to make a scent which pleases me.

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Rock and a Hard Place

For those who guessed last week that I was between ‘a rock and a hard place’, you were absolutely right – on Squeaky Beach are some enormous rocks, and I was between two of them! In retrospect, this would have made a much better scavenger hunt than the one I got for ‘rocks (large)‘, but you never know when you get something that a better location may come along. Certainly we weren’t expecting to find this awesome spot!

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Squeaky Selfie

I’ve just returned from two weeks in Melbourne visiting m’Lady – a bonus visit for the year, thanks to knuckling down and doing ‘the budget’ with Apollo, which lead to the pleasing discovery that another flight across the ditch was affordable.

As usual, a lot of time was spent indoors, in bed, having incredibly hot sex and kink play. But this visit I also hired a car for a few days, so we took a day trip down to Wilson’s Promontory (aka ‘the prom’), the southernmost tip of the Australian mainland. I mean, why not? Neither of us had been there before.

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Return to Derp

The last time I posted some of my ‘derp’ photos the response was unexpectedly positive – so I promised I’d do it again. Finally, here are some more of my not-so-good pictures, complete with closed eyes, stupid expressions, and strange poses:

Starting with both a stupid expression and a strange pose, this photo was taken back during my aquarium trip, where I was photographed by Delilah’s husband. The shark is a recommended photo opportunity, but I obviously did not make the most of it!

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Marina Magic

When m’Lady and I were having lunch in Williamstown, we could see the marina nearby and decided we’d need to check it out (after taking photos with cannons and on the embankment). Also, what was that big ship?

It turns out that it’s the HMAS Castlemaine, which is now a maritime museum. It was closed when we wandered up. But that pier… definitely a photo opportunity.

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My First Scarification

[content note: blood – but not a whole lot, and behind a read-more]

I’ve written about various ‘first times’ I’ve experienced: my first PiV experience; my first kiss; my first time kissing a woman; my first outdoor sex disaster; my first troll. And there’s been play parties and fisting and overseas visits and exhibitionism and plenty of other things I could write about in the first category … but today I’m going to share my first scarification (will there be another? Maybe sometime).

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Across the Harbour

After taking the train to Williamstown, having lunch, and getting some great photos with the cannons, m’Lady and I wondered if we could manage some photos of me relaxing on the embankment and looking out across the harbour. Don’t try, don’t get, right?

In Williamstown you get a glorious view (at least from this park) across the harbour to the Melbourne CBD. And, from where we sat to eat lunch, we could see the path before us, dogs and people and bicyclists using the path, and a whole lot of seagulls! What you can’t see is the embankment – because it’s on an angle down to the water:

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Fist Me All Year

It’s the fourth annual International Fisting Day (well, it is in the US – it was yesterday in New Zealand), and I’ve had some amazing fisting experiences this year – so now seems like a great opportunity to share them. This year has been all about give and take, and when it comes to hands in *cough* new places, that’s never been more true!

January

Take yourself back to the very first day of 2014. Do you remember what you were doing?

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Breathing in Style

Very shortly after meeting Hylas I was introduced to his gas masks. Much like full-face hoods, I found them somewhat intimidating at first – when his expressions were covered up, I worried I couldn’t follow what he was enjoying or not. But as I got to know him better I learned what fun gas masks can be (and trusted us both to work out communication when non-verbals were limited).

It’s kinda good I like them, because he has a few:

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