Wednesday, 28 October 2009

Luka Interview #1

The Boudoir is dimly lit and filled with the heady scents of exotic incense, Mum roll-on deodorant and fabric conditioner. The cushions on the chaise longue have been plumped, the portraits dusted and the dog has been shut in the kitchen. I'm ready to welcome my guest for the evening.

"Come in, come in! Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Sprawl on the chaise longue, why don't you? No, don't move the throw, it's hiding a multitude of sins. Now, tea or coffee?"

"Tea, please! Earl Grey for preference, with a splash of milk - or Peppermint, if you have it."

I sigh as I root around in the cupboard, behind the box of PG Tips, to find the poncy tea bags. It might take a few minutes so I skilfully start the interview while I clatter about in the kitchen.

"Some people reading this will be familiar with your work, and some will be discovering you for the first time. For the benefit of new or lazy readers, could you sum up who you are and what you blog about?"

"Hello, new and/or lazy readers. I am Dee, a native of kiwi-land (aka New Zealand). I am a geek, female-bodied, civilly unioned, kinky as all hell, fat (and love my body), pansexual and polyamorous. Also, I'm an exhibitionist, a writer, and a lover. And a fan of choosing my own labels."

"And for the benefit of our pervier readers, what are you wearing?"

"Currently I am wearing bright blue knickers, bloomers (yes, really), a long black and blue skirt, a dark blue satin sleeveless top, and blue earrings. It's a blue day!"

"I did notice your bloomers as you climbed onto the chaise longue earlier. Here's your Earl Grey. Don't mind that, it's just a dog hair. So, how long have you been at this blogging malarky now?"

"I've been writing online since 2000, and writing as Curvaceous Dee since Jan 1, 2006. So in sex-blogger years, I'm geriatric."

"Do you still blog for the same reasons as you started? Some bloggers - especially the longer established ones, like yourself - have moved on to book deals or other profitable ventures. Any plans in that direction yourself? Will we ever see "Curvaceous Dee" the book/mini series/action figure?"

"Well, I started blogging to write. I still blog to write, although there's more photography going on now than when I started - my love for my body has increased mightily. While I've always planned to get off my arse and become a published author, it's more likely to be poetry or erotica than a series based on posts.

Not that I'm averse to having an action figure made!"

"And just think of the accessories to go with it! You'd need lots of batteries though. Speaking of which, I see you're an official greeter for Fetlife. Do you have to be superkinky and up for a Real Life (tm) pounding in latex to be a part of the community?"

"A pounding in latex sounds quite delectable, but it's absolutely not required to be a part of FetLife. To be a greeter, possibly! There are well over 200,000 people on FetLife now, and all that's required is to be open to kink, perversion, and depravity :) After all, it's free to join!"

"I'm not sure I'm kinky enough to truly benefit from it. Mind you, I'm currently working on my Sex Blogger Shag Map (a glittering constellation of online names) which, when all the dots are connected, I hope will spell out a very rude word. A straight line is for full body contact, a dashed line is for cybersex and an asterisk means you once tried to sauce them up but they closed their blog. Where does Curvaceous Dee fit into the map?"

"Well, I'm reasonably certain that I would remember if you and I had any contact - full-body, cyber, or otherwise! And while you're terribly saucy, my blog is still very open (just like me).
As for my own Sex Blogger Shag Map, there are a few bloggers out there I've gotten nekkid with - but they all were friends with me before they started blogging ... "

"What would you say to those who reckon being poly and pansexual is just being greedy?"

"I'd say they're absolutely right, and if they have an issue with it, to come and see me! Just because I'm attracted to a whole lot of different people, not to mention have great sex with many of them, doesn't mean that they're not still available for everyone else to be attracted to, and possibly have sex with. The more the merrier, I say!"

"So, who would you rather cruise the universe with - Dr Who or Captain Jack?"

"I suspect that I'd have absolutely amazing sexcapades with Captain Jack - and there'd be a lot of 'cruising' going on too. Plus, Jack is Jack - with the Dr I'd never know what body's going to be around next week."

"Ah, but I know you're all about the body acceptance. One of the things I love about your blog is how body positive you are. It breaks my heart to see gorgeous women fretting about non-existant flaws or to hear about women who never let their husband see them naked. What do you think is the key to body confidence? Should HNT be compulsory for anyone who thinks they have a large bottom?"

"I think HNT should be compulsory for everyone, whether they have a large bottom or a teeny one. All bodies are deserving of love - wobbly bits, scarred bits, 'perfect' bits and all. As for the key to body confidence? Well, when I started to realise that others' bodies were beautiful, I figured out that my own was as well. HNT is great for that - there's such an amazing variety of bodies out there, and they're all worthy of being seen."


Curvaceous Dee enjoying some Earl Grey in the Boudoir

"So, how do you feel about photoshopping images before posting them online?"

"Photoshopping is fine, as long as it's limited to a) scrubbing out pimples, b) cropping for effect, and c) playing with colours. Everything else should be left alone."

"Be honest though, when you're browsing through HNT pictures have you ever seen one that made you think 'oh dear, that was a mistake'?"

"I don't recall any having that effect, actually. Except for when the photoshopping is terrible. I just don't get tired of checking them all out every week!"

"I have often enjoyed - and, indeed lampooned - your raunchy reviews. If a sex toy company sent you a terrible product would you review it honestly or fudge the issue to ensure you still kept getting freebies?"

"The answer to that is: honestly. Which I've done - there are some shite products out there! The absolutely worst review I've ever given was to a DVD sent to me, which thankfully I've palmed off to someone who'd appreciate it more. That said, the second worst review I've ever given was for something I bought myself ... so there you go!

I can only be thankful that no one was tormenting me with the latter while I was watching the former."

"Ah, but that sounds like a winning formula for a Fleshbot to me. Depends how far you're prepared to go to keep things entertaining though. Blog drama - would you ever do it?"

"Hmm. I don't think so, mostly because I'm perpetually behind the times when it comes to drama. But I'll make an exception if you're talking shit about me, Luka! In that instance I'd have to get all reactionary, and stuff."

"I am a pussycat these days. The times they are a-changing. Sugasm has fallen on its arse, getting a Fleshbot does not generate the numbers of wank hungry readers it once did, some of my favourite blogs have gone tits up - do you think sex blogging is in decline?"

"I think sex blogging is changing - but it's always done that. When I started there were only a few dozen around (that I was aware), and of those a mere handful are still going. There was a big boom in reviewing starting about 18 months ago, and I feel that a lot of readers - and bloggers - have gone off that now too. But there are new bloggers - some good writers, some almost spam - starting all the time, and there will always be readers, although they come and go too!

I think the sex blogging community, especially in twitter, is nice and strong - there are good connections, and friendships, being made."

"And finally, where are you off to once you've finished this interview?"

"Bed with my husband - once I've finished my cup of tea, that is!"

"Thank you, Curvaceous Dee. I think we all feel that little bit closer to you now. I certainly do, but this chaise longue is a bit on the small side for the both of us."

Monday, 26 October 2009

The Luka Interviews - More Audience Participation!

"Now what?" I hear you ask.

"Now for my new project," I reply.

I am in the process of contacting a varied selection of Those Who Blog to see who is willing to lie on my virtual chaise longue and subject themselves to a Luka style interview.

This is where the audience participation bit comes in: who would you most like to see pumped for personal information? What questions would you most like to ask? If you don't want to risk offence in the comments box (you may, for example, be trying to schmooze your way to the Blogger A-List and a possible book deal, and not want to find yourself kicked off prestigious blogrolls when you ask me to find out if that certain someone is really a journalist/happily married accountant/man) do feel free to email your suggestions to the usual address.

Oh, and I'm not restricting this to Sex Blogs, I'm up for bothering anyone at all online.

Monday, 19 October 2009

Ask Luka - The Cybersex Query

Another week, another reader dilemma.

"Dear Luka

What do you do when someone only ever says hello online, in chat, when they want a wank?

It's really insulting. I can ping them with endless 'hey there's and 'how're you?'s and they just ignore me. That doesn't bother me particularly as I know other people have stuff going on in their real lives and can't always respond. What does annoy me is that when this person does finally deign to drop me a line it's inevitably because they are horny and want me to shove the webcam up my nightie.

What would you advise?

Fed Up of Hands Free"

This problem is more common than you might expect, Fed Up of Hands Free. While you don't specify gender in your email I'm assuming your masturbatory messenger is a man as this, in my experience, is very much a blokey trait. (Unless you, dear readers, know otherwise, and if so do feel free to educate me in the comments box).

The thing is, men are really, really good at compartmentalising. They can divide and sub-divide their lives into convenient packages - Work, Play, Food, Fuck, Toilet, Pub - and give each their total attention. Individually. The ability to focus so completely means that men can only concentrate on one compartment at a time. So while on some level they recognise you are a lovely person with a multi-faceted personality and deserving of an in-depth conversation about how your day went, they are unable to act upon it whilst already thinking about dinner, for example.

The more advanced male will make an effort later, once you fill his field of vision at some point. The less advanced male will not. He is unlikely to make contact until his bollocks need emptying and you happen to fill his field of vision at a serendipitous moment. At which point he is unlikely to ask about your day as he is now entirely focused upon his cock. It's not meant to be offensive, it's just that you're there, you're a woman and - should you prove willing to type a few "oh yeah"s and "fuck me"s or, even better, get your tits out on camera and insert various root vegetables up your flange - you're much cheaper than phoning a dedicated wankline.

In contrast the female ability to multitask means that while Mr Only Says Hi When He's Horny is going hands free in one window, you can continue several other online conversations, update your blog, watch a film, jot some notes for work tomorrow, organise your music collection and tidy the living room, so your time won't be entirely wasted if you decide to indulge him.

On the other hand you might think exchanges mostly consisting of "what are you wearing?", "mmmm", "I'm going to cum" and then watching a blurry webcam image of them spodging onto their keyboard are no big loss and just set your messenger status to "busy".

Wednesday, 14 October 2009

Ask Luka! Putting the Pro in Problem Solving.

This weeks conundrum comes from a Mr Tongue Tied of Anonymoushire who writes:

"I have a problem with the opposite sex. Specifically, in relationship to identity. The subject came up in a work gab session where 6 ... ahem, females, and 3 males ranging in age from 23 to over 50 were discussing appropriate ... ahem, female salutation, individually and in plural.
In business discourse a ....ahem, female is refered to as Ms. or Mrs.. But in adult bloggery, where a bit of ankle (or more!) can be exposed salaciously, I feel surnames may be too formal for the situation. The environment is a little more pub, bedroom, and shared shower--with a stranger who doesn't seem like one. I'm contorting sentences to avoid inappropriate use of: girl, lady, woman, women, Miss, Ms., Mrs., honey, bitch, cunt, madame, sweety, dear, and, and ... there's more.
I don't want to commit a horrible social faux pas. What is a good, generic address for a ... ahem, female who I would want to compliment for showing her charms?"

Luka replies:

There are no generic answers, sadly. It all varies according to circumstance.

For example, if, say, you wanted to greet a female blogger who writes informally about intimate matters and shows the occasional hint of cleavage for HNT now and then, you could probably get away with a "love", (Blimey, love, that was a cracking post on fisting!) possibly a "darling", (Adored your piece on butt plugs, darling!) or maybe even a "lady"(Lady, you surely know how to fill a vest.)

If, on the other hand, you were addressing a female blogger who has the words "sex", "positive" and "feminist" on her blog anywhere then you'd be wise to say away from "girlie", "bint", "twinkle" or "baby" and perhaps just stick with "woman".

In addition to the above, in general I would say these terms are more or less ok:

Treacle
Sweetie
Sugar
Honey
Duchess
Princess
Missus
Flower
Petal
Kitten
Gorgeous

and these are to be avoided:

Tank
Tits
Babe
Granny
Tubs
Bitch
Cunt
Slut
Bitchqueen
Splitarse

Although individual preferences do vary and one person's inoffensive "Morning, sexy!" is another person's trigger point for extreme knee in nuts action.

Of course you may well find that the simpler solution is to ask the female in question for her name.

Monday, 12 October 2009

Ask Luka!

Do you have a problem? (Well, obviously you do, or you wouldn't be reading my stupid blog, but you know, an entertaining problem, preferably about sex or a strangely shaped body part.)

Then don't suffer in silence! A problem shared is a problem halved and a post is born.

A reader writes:

"Dear Luka

I have been in a relationship with a lovely woman for five years now. She has two children from a previous marriage and I have a son who has now left home to go to university. I have often asked her to move in with me, but she refuses, saying it would unsettle the children. I understand her concerns, as our lovemaking is prolonged, noisy and often involves various kitchen utensils, but I've assured her I can bite down on an oven mitt or wait until they're out. Surely a loving relationship is a good role model for young people? I've been patient for a long time but I'm beginning to think of moving on if she's not prepared to make a commitment. Tell me, Luka, what colour knickers are you wearing today?"

Luka replies:

"Black, with pink trim."

If you'd like Luka to answer your queries or solve your dilemma please send your bizarre requests to the usual email address and remember to put "I Need Help" in the subject line for priority attention.

Thursday, 8 October 2009

Flesh My Bot

Thank you Fleshbot Fairy for helping my rather silly Audience Participation Sexy Sex Post reach a much wider audience than my usual hardcore posse of Boudoir bandits.

I wonder if all those visitors via Fleshbot thought my post was a genuine attempt at erotica, or if, among the purple prose and lurid linguistics of the sex blogging world, it is indistinguishable from the real deal?

I may never know but I like to imagine.

Sunday, 4 October 2009

Big Bosom Bunk Up - The Sex Post Climax! Now With Audience Participation!

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“To the shops.”

“But you’ve been gone over two weeks.”

“There was a queue.”

“Well you’re here now. Get your kit off and assume the position. We have an eager audience of readers awaiting the next interactive bit of hot love lava action.”

“Right you are.”

He was so understanding. Other men might get miffed if you left them toweling off after a steamy shower sex session, claiming you were just popping out for a packet of Hobnobs and another bucket of lube, and then didn’t come back for a fortnight.

“Did you re-grout these tiles while I was away?”

“I was full of pent up erotic energy. It all had to be channeled somewhere. I even took an industrial sander to the chip fat on the lino – it was a death slide before, you know. And then I fixed the leaky shower head.”

“I am impressed. You know how I love a man who can handle his tool. And my that’s a big one,” I said, idly fingering the contents of his overall pocket.

“If you think that adjustable spanner’s big you should have seen the laser screed when I did the driveway. That got the neighbours’ curtains twitching.”

“Mmmm….you’ve got my curtains twitching.” I slid my hands over his manly chest and gave him a saucy look. His nipples responded to my fingers and I felt his manhood pressing firmly against my thigh. Now I had somewhere to hang my hat, coat and scarf.

“I missed you,” he murmured hotly against my neck. “You are a bad, bad girl to leave me alone for so long.”

“I’m sorry,” I breathed as I kissed him better. “It could have been worse. At least this time you weren’t duck taped to the headboard with only a feather boa around your knob to keep you warm.”

He shuddered at the thought. I made it all up to him. I tickled and trickled kisses down his body, I tasted and teased, lapped and licked, my lips slick with pleasure and pre-cum, my chin as shiny and my satisfaction as complete as if I had devoured a plateful of hot, buttery crumpets. I took him to the brink, I could feel him holding back with every ounce of strength he had, his face contorted in an ecstatic grimace as if he were in the grip of an exquisite toothache.

“Not yet,” I said, pausing in my ministrations. “Wait.” I had to have him inside me. Besides, much as I adore pleasing him with my mouth I was beginning to get jaw sprain and spunk is one of those acquired tastes, like marmite. It’s delicious in tiny quantities but you wouldn’t want to swallow a mouthful of the stuff.

I rummaged in his bathroom cabinet, searching for the extra-large glow-in-the-dark condoms we’d been saving for a special occasion. “Where are the johnnies?” I asked as I routed through the toothpaste, diarrhea medicine and flatulence remedies.

“Behind the bog rolls,” he shouted back, sexily.

“Ah yes.” I returned, triumphant. I straddled him womanfully and swiftly sheathed him. His rampant cock pulsated and glowed like a radioactive salami. I’d never wanted him more. My flaps were all acquiver with excitement and awash with ladyjuice.

Inch by aching inch I lowered myself onto his novelty condomed cock and lost myself in glorious sensation, the rich red scent of lust, the smooth caress of the cries of pleasure, the purple pulse of passion, a wonderful blurring of the self in sensual synesthesia.

We both climaxed noisily and colourfully in perfect unison, because we are so much better at sex than most people.

“That was amazing,” I gasped when I recovered the power of speech.

“Yup. I’m famished. What did you bring back from the shops?”

“Fruit cake. A stottie. Muffins. Assorted foodie items the like of which you may have seen on certain sex and baking sites or Masterchef.”

“No bacon?”

“I’ll pop back out and get some.”