Tell Me Something

My phone vibrates on my desk and that familiar little icon flashes across the screen.

Him: Before I start the 4 hour drive, tell me something dirty.

Me: Tonight, I’ll be laying in bed, listening to your voice clip and touching myself.

I take myself to bed early, keen to be alone with just him in my ear. I put my headphones in, turn the volume up as far as it will go and hit play.
That familiar voice in my ear makes me smile as my hand slides between my legs. His voice all around me making it almost seem as if he is right there with me, whispering in my ear. I love the noises he makes as he strokes his cock and thinks of me, knowing he’s imagining me there with him. I listen intently as he talks about me straddling him, him sliding his cock into me, thrusting up as he digs his fingers into my hips, pulling me to him.

My fingers rub faster against my clit with his increasing breaths as they build and hitch with each stroke. His groans rattle in my brain, the want in him so apparent as he thinks of filling me with his cock. I hear a grunt catch in his throat as he gets closer to the edge.

The familiar feeling of heat rising from my toes begins as my orgasm creeps close, another grunt and the whispering of my name is enough to unravel me. My hips buck and my body trembles as I hear a stretched “fuck” in my ear and know he too has reached the point of no return and I listen intently, thinking about the hot streaks of cum he is covering himself in and know he is cumming for me.

Masturbation Monday

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

My Darling A

True Friends

I was so grateful to fall into the world of Twitter nearly 10 year ago now, I had felt so isolated since leaving my hometown and being at home with three small children made it hard to really connect with people. I wasn’t exactly the mumsy type so struggled to find a group of people I had anything in common with.
Twitter was such a lifeline, I remember my husband being disgruntled at the amount of time I would spend talking to people online, he failed to understand what it was like to go from working full time and having a circle of friends close by to spending your days with three young children who weren’t interested in talking about anything other than power rangers or the Tweenies. I wasn’t going to be put off, this was something I needed, something for just me.
I can’t even begin to explain how glad I am that I dug my heals in and kept tweeting. I found myself again there in that place of lovely accepting people and was able to explore the world a little more from my sofa. Some of the best conversations I have had started there and I have made some wonderful friendships and connections over the years.
One of those friendships stands head and shoulders above the rest, I found one of my dearest friends there in the Twittersphere and even now after over 5 years we have never met, but it doesn’t shrink that friendship in the slightest.
In the beginning, our conversations centred around photographs, he would comment on my sinful Sunday posts and send me pictures he had taken. He has an amazing eye and I repeated tried to encourage him to start a blog and join sinful Sunday, his pictures deserved a wider audience than just me, but he never listened. Over time we got to know each other better and I found very early on that I could talk to him about anything. We would talk freely, no fear of being judged on our thoughts and desires and it was such a wonderful gift to feel understood.
There is nothing we won’t talk about, when I started to really want to explore the submissive in me it was him who knew how to help me, knew how to make me feel safe and loved as I let down my guard and stopped hiding behind my hard exterior. It was him that allowed me talk about my deepest desires without fear of judgement and together we enjoyed the girl that emerged. Albeit remotely we have given each other many pleasures and orgasms over the years in ways that I never imagine would be possible.
Above all else though this beautiful man is my friend, when we were in the depths of a period of sexy exploration, suddenly and completely unexpectedly I was hit with an immense sadness. Five years after my mum’s death it hit me like a train and I felt like I was beginning to grieve all over again. The nakedness and fun vanished in an instant, but he didn’t, he was there every day with all the virtual hugs and love I could ask for and when subsequently my marriage fell apart, he was the constant I could rely on. The reasoned mind that I knew would talk me out of an emotional hole and the provider of light and laughter as the fog began to clear.
I am so incredibly grateful to have found this wonderful human amongst the millions of Twitterers out there in the world and I know that one day I finally get to meet him in the flesh and give him the biggest, boob squishing hug of his life but in the meantime I will continue to try and be just as good a friend to him as he has always been to me.

My darling A, thank you for always being unconditional you, I love you x



I have lived in my house for fifteen years and while there are so many happy memories here and it is my home I would gladly move tomorrow. As a house I hate it, it needs so much time and money spent on it to get it how I’d really like it that it would be incredibly easy to pack up and move without many tears shed.

For me, I don’t think a home is really about those four walls or any walls for that matter, home is a feeling. Home is anywhere you can feel completely at peace, relaxed and happy. You might feel more at home in a dusty bookshop, or in the corner of a little cafe than you feel in the building that others call your home.

Those moments, be it lazing on the sofa with a cup of tea, walking through the woods on a sunny day when you feel at peace and happy, that’s home.


Stroke my Hair

Growing up my mum wasn’t a very tactile person, I knew she loved me but she wasn’t one for hugs and kisses. When I was craving that kind of attention I would ask her to play with my hair, I would sit on the floor in front of her and she would braid my hair. It took me a long time to realise that that was what was happening, that sitting at her feet while she played with my hair was our version of “I love you” but what I did know was that I didn’t like just anyone touching my hair.

As a teenager I had lovely long hair, my friends would often ask to play with it but I would refuse. It wasn’t that I didn’t want them to but it would give me tingles, not exciting nice tingles but that sense of someone walking over your grave. I would visibly shudder if someone touched my hair.

As I got older and started having relationships I found that some people could touch my hair and instead of making me want to pull away it felt nice, special, intimate.

To lay my head against someone special and have them stroke my hair is now something I look forward to, crave even.


How do I Date?

I’ve made it to forty and never been on an actual date. I know that might sound crazy but I was with my husband from when I was nineteen and can’t say dating was really a thing in my teens. So now I find myself in the unusual position of trying to work out how this whole dating world works.

On Boxing day, on a whim, I signed up to POF (Plenty of Fish), there will definitely be more about that in future blog posts because it has been an experience to say the least?

Anyway, it turns out I’ve only gone and got myself a date! Which leaves me wondering how these things work nowadays? Is there an etiquette? Anything I should know beforehand?

So if you have any pointers let me know before Saturday!

New Year, New Me?

I have always found the whole “new year, new me” cliche so unrealistic. The calendar starting again is no real reason to make a change, we should be making changes when they’re needed at any time of the year, not waiting for a specific date.

However today I find myself in the strange position of feeling a little new. We are just over 12 hours into the new year and I have already had 4 unexpected but wonderful orgasms and after three years of liking her posts I have messaged my secret girl crush .

While both of which may seem small or insignificant to some they have left me feeling invigorated and ready for new adventures in the coming year and interested to see the person I am in twelve months time. Here’s to more firsts and tons wonderful orgasms!

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked