Saturday, 19 September 2009

Audience Participation Antici....pation

I am impressed at the creative and disturbing suggestions that have been made in the comments of my previous post. I shall most certainly endeavour to weave all of these bizarre requests into the concluding installment of Big Bosom Bunk Up.

But not yet.

I am off on an adventure for the next week so you deviant bunch of perverts will just have to wait.

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Saucy Raunchy Sexy Sex Post, Part Two PLUS Audience Participation

Yes, it's once again time to relax with my amazing erotic storytelling abilities, a glass of wine and a box of tissues.

And now with Added Audience Participation (at the end, so it doesn't interefere with the frenzied wanking.)


"That was amazing," I gasped between breaths, my heart pounding, the sheets and my lover entangled around my legs.

"Yes, " he agreed. "My ears are still ringing and I think I've lost a filling. And my watch."

It had been an ecstatic, noisy, energetic coupling, a hedonistic interlude in an otherwise mundane day. Our bodies were slick with the fluids of love; sweat, semen, ladyjuice, WD40 and Ribena.

"Let's hop in the shower," I suggested, peeling myself off the mattress with a sound much like unfastening velcro. A shared shower is always a sexy idea. All that steam, all that slipperiness, and all in an area the size of your average phone box.

"It's a bit of a tight fit, isn't it?" I mumbled, face squashed against the tiles as I tried to reach around the manly bulk of my man's powerful physique for the soap. "Still, you seem to be enjoying it!"

"That's the loofah."

"Is it? No, leave it where it is."

I straightened up, soap in hand, and ran its slippery surface over his rippling pectorals, sliding lower until I encountered his huge throbbing manhood. How could I have possibly mistaken the loofah for this? His cock was so much bigger, for a start, and so very hard. This man's powers of recovery were truly impressive. He'd already had three enormous orgasms just from giving me oral pleasure and now he was pulsating and primed for more. I considered myself a very lucky girl indeed, until I remembered that I'm incredibly alluring, sexually talented and enduringly moist so, really, it's what I should expect from a lover. Anything less and I'd probably call him a poof and kick him out of bed.

"Take me now," I cried, all in a lather. The bubbles and steam had made me giddy and reckless.

"How?" He had a point. We were crammed so tightly together we were probably having sex in many different ways already. We grappled like two oiled wrestlers for a minute or two. It was highly arousing, as anyone who's tried to catch a greased pig will know.

"I know, I'll raise myself up by hanging onto the top of the shower cubicle like this and then you can- oh. Fucking flimsy shower cubicles."

"At least there's more room now. Let's play Prison Drama," he smiled dropping the soap on the floor. "Pick it up."


Audience Participation Bit: Super-hot anal action ahoy! But what key words or phrases would you like to see in the next installment? What would enhance your one-handed reading pleasure? Don't be shy, let it fly. Fill my box with your hot vocabulary and I shall incorporate it into a Fleshbot/Sugasm/Guild of Erotic Writers/Sex Blogger of the Year award-winning post.

Sunday, 13 September 2009

Saucy Raunchy Sexy Sex Post

This week I am delighted to present a preview of my new erotic memoir "Big Bosom Bunk Up". I shall be publishing this much-admired and highly acclaimed piece of literate smut in installments as it is just too sexy to post all in one go. Your seats will be ruined. This gives you a chance to fetch a towel.


"Strip," he growled, his manly lip curling in anticipation, his manly chest chair curling in perspiration.

His powerful physique stood silhouetted against the sunshine streaming through the window of the Boudoir, broad shouldered, narrow hipped and with an erection you could hang your anorak on. I was so excited I could barely finish my tea.

Under his unwavering gaze I began to unfasten my cardigan, my eyes never leaving his as I wrestled with those oversized buttons. Jauntily I flung the garment aside, knocking over a glass of water and the bedside lamp in the process, and posed panting in my amply filled vest. It was a deeply erotic moment and obviously testing the resolve of my eager companion. I could sense his fingers itching to tug the vest top over my head as I seductively struggled with it, arms in the air, face obscured, and could almost feel his steel will pressing upon me as my exposed bosoms jiggled temptingly with my efforts. "There," I gasped, as I finally emerged, triumphant. "Just the jeans to go!"

He could hold back no longer. With an exultant cry of "For fuck's sake!" he pounced upon my feminine form and practically tore the fabric from my body. There was a slight delay at the shoes, which should have been taken off first, really, but he soon made short work of those, flinging them to the far corners of the room, startling the cat.

"Oh," he breathed as he masterfully parted my knees and knelt between them. "What a gorgeous view. Like a fluffy black cloud over a marshmallow mountain, and twin peaks beyond. I shall have to explore."

"Oh my," I gasped as he began his ascent, my mind whirling with too many double entendres to articulate. I could wax lyrical on protective equipment, helmets, getting up and staying up, falling into crevices, that sort of thing, but sensation was overtaking speech. "There, yes, oh god, there!" I eloquently cried as he found his first fingerholds. "Avalanche!"


Check back soon for the next installment, which features "throbbing", "pulsating" and possibly "spurting". Oh, and "moist".

Monday, 7 September 2009

Bonkers Blogger Found in Cat Flap

"Luka had her head up my cat flap!" a fellow blogger sensationally claimed last night.

Boudoir Babe Luka, 35, is well known for her sporadic outbursts of filth and bad poetry but has caused concern of late by her lengthy absences and depressive posts.


"I knew she'd been a bit down lately," said Mystery Blogger X, who prefers to remain anonymous. "Things have been tough for Luka for a while now but we all thought she'd just have a kebab and a bottle of Pinot Grigio, do some drunken sweary blogging and be right as rain in the morning. It usually works a treat.


"I think her cat dying just pushed her over the edge. We'd find her cradling tins of cat food in the pet food aisle in the supermarket. Then we found her trying to knit a replacement cat out of the fur she'd saved from the hoover bag. When I tried to talk to her about it she chased me round the room with the crevice nozzle. That should have alerted us that there might be a problem. But then again she's always been quirky."


Mystery Blogger X went on to describe how Luka became increasingly distanced from reality. "She started to claim to be able to talk to cats and even said she was writing a novel dictated by the stray tom who lives in her wood shed. I read a bit of it while she was in the loo and it was dreadful, just page after page of vole dismemberment scenes and badly faked paw prints.

When she returned she tried to sit in my lap and rub her head on my chin. I was flattered, and a little bit aroused, but I knew this wasn't right. I knew she'd gone proper mental."


Mystery Blogger X's fears were confirmed when she found Luka stuck in her cat flap later that evening. "I woke up in the middle of the night and went downstairs to get a drink of water. I heard this strange noise, a sort of strangulated yowling. It was coming from the back door and when I went to look I saw Luka with her head stuck through my cat flap. I think she was after the bowl of cat crunchies I keep in the kitchen. After the fire brigade cut her free she took off across the lawn and attempted to leap over the fence."


Mystery Blogger X shook her head, sadly. "It's not easy watching an overweight woman in a leotard trying to lick her own butt while lying in the remains of your garden fence. Not without laughing anyway.

"I just hope she gets the help she needs now. It's sad that she's had to be taken into care but I couldn't keep letting her crap in the flowerbeds."

Luka remains under sedation in the secure wing of the Fussy Pussy Cats Home. Visiting hours are from 7 to 7.15pm and no catnip allowed.


Wednesday, 2 September 2009

Normal Service Has Been Lost

My apologies. I can't do barbed or funny or even mildly twat-like at the moment.

I can't be arsed to bang on about it here, because it's A. depressing and B. of no interest to the majority of casual passersby.

Normal service will be resumed when I am happy again.