Michael Douglas and Safe Oral Sex

For those of us who’ve been affected by sexually transmitted infections (including HPV – human papillomavirus), the interview with Michael Douglas in this week’s Guardian newspaper was quite intriguing. In it, he implied that his throat cancer could have been caused by performing oral sex.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2013/jun/02/michael-douglas-oral-sex-cancer

Whilst later in the week, he appeared to be retracting these comments, it certainly has created interest and one suspects that there might be a few alarm bells ringing in the heads of those that lovingly and delightfully indulge in fellatio and cunnilingus.

We tend not to talk about this important aspect of sexuality because, for some bizarre reason, we don’t like to admit that kissing and sucking the sexual organs of our partners or lovers is so delicious. So the thought of popping off to the clinic to discuss it in great detail might be somewhat off-putting to many, yet it is something that we really ought to do.

The reality, though, is that many people who are sexually active do participate in fellatio and cunnilingus without any negative health repercussions.

I adore both. I love nothing more than filling my entire mouth with a wholesome, large and erect penis that, with joyous practice, slides down comfortably without the gagging reactions forcing an abrupt end to the proceedings. It takes time to get it right and the old adage practice makes perfect is completely right.

Likewise with cunnilingus. I’ve had lovers who think that the mere fact that they’re prepared to stick their tongue inside my vagina will do the trick and force an eruption of my bodily fluids. But just as we need to learn with our fingers or our cocks, so too do we need to learn with our tongues. It’s not enough to go in and go out again without exploring every corner of this fascinating and enthralling part of the body.

Whether you are the recipient or the provider of cunnilingus, it’s really important to talk it through with your partner. Tell them where to go. Explain as they are doing it precisely what is happening to your body. Get them to lick inside and outside, exploring the form of the body with that delicious line of expectation that hides the wonderment of woman’s hidden parts. To be honest, I’m juicing up at the thought of it. Oh to be licked and kissed like that – pure delight.

Enough of that though. We need to return to the health message. The overwhelming delights of this sexual experience can turn into a horror if you do end up with an infection – at worse cancerous growths.

We need to be safe. We need to respect the safety of others and we need to be very aware that our sexual behaviour can impact significantly on ourselves and the lives of our sexual partners.

My own experience is something that I would like to share with others because it’s a reality and shows just how negligent we can be about our own bodies and their healthiness, either wittingly or not.

As a person who has indulged in polyamorous behaviour, I took a hell of a risk. I knew that my lover had another sexual partner, and at the time, albeit reluctantly, I too was having sex with another person. We continued in that manner without ever once going to a clinic to check that our sexual health was intact, assuming (rightly or wrongly) that our other sexual partners were only having sex with us. To this day, I don’t know whether that is the case. What I do know is that we took unnecessary risks, and with an understandable lack of honesty with our respective partners, we placed them in similar jeopardy.

At the time, however, two issues took precedence for me.

Firstly, I wanted to have sex with this man no matter what. My desire for his “un-condomed” cock was driving my mind far more than any amount of knowledge about safe sex. If I had to share that unprotected cock with another, then fine. That’s what I’d have to do, and that’s what I did – often.

Secondly, I was in a relationship that wouldn’t cope with the truth of me having sex with another. My lover was in a similar situation. My partner and my lover’s partner couldn’t be told that we were in a sexual relationship that didn’t use condoms and had plenty of fellatio and cunnilingus. My lover was adamant that I shouldn’t tell my partner and that his shouldn’t be told either.

So there was a choice. Tell people (our partners) the truth, stop having sex with my lover, start having protective sex with my lover without the joy of aforementioned oral sex or stop having sex with our respective partners.

Circumstances meant that the latter was the option that we took, and for years, whilst maintaining a policy of polyamory (and practice too unbeknown to me) to all intents and purposes we only had one another as a sexual partner.

But even this isn’t and wasn’t safe. The fact that my lover had another lover during this time was totally unknown to me. Wrongly, he assumed that I would find this difficult. Wrongly, he chose not to tell me, possibly because I would have wanted him and me to check ourselves out at a clinic, for all its embarrassment. But even if we were monogamous, we should still have probably got the all clear as we both knew we had been in a relationship with other sexual partners whilst indulging in glorious sex together.

We were utter fools.

The situation changed once more when he decided he wanted more permanent additional lovers in his life. Telling me that he was having protected sex with both of them, I happily indulged in unprotected sex, thinking, stupidly, that I was safe.

Even if he had been wearing a condom with his other lovers, he was still more than likely to be giving them cunnilingus, which meant that I was still potentially at risk of contracting a sexually transmitted infection, as was he. Even if he hadn’t been having oral sex with these other women, the fact that he came straight from them to me meant that there were times when I was sucking the sexual juices of those women from his cock when I gave him an instinctive blow job prior to him showering them off him. Funny really, because I can remember how he grinned as I told him how good he tasted. Perverse? Maybe but not to me.

The point is that if you choose to have sex with multiple partners, then all of those involved need to be seen at a clinic regularly. I know to my cost that this should have happened and didn’t, and it’s something that I bitterly regret and hope that I don’t regret it in the future even more than I do right now and even more so than I did this time last year.

Sexual health is important, and I don’t know whether Michael Douglas and his wife have other sexual partners. In many ways, it’s an irrelevance. One slight non-sexually related infection or benign existence of the HPV in her could have been a causal factor to his cancer. However, if you are having sex with more than one person or if you have very good reason to believe that your partner is having unprotected sex of any form with another, then I implore you to get yourself checked out as you do carry a greater risk. What you might find can be alarming and frightening but it’s far worse than sitting around waiting for whatever potential infection there may be to grow into something far worse and potentially untreatable. An arrogant belief that everyone is safe is wrong, unfair and downright irresponsible.

Polyamory should always come with a health warning – the main one being an emotional health warning with the potential of a massive, damaging and long-living impact on your feelings and self-worth. Polyamory can be safe, though it’s impossible to get away from the fact that you are more at risk of infection by the very nature of probability than you are in a monogamous relationship. Monogamous relationships aren’t immune from infections. It happens.

Just be safe. Check yourself out and deal with the consequences and the downside of the most brilliant aspects of life – our sexuality.

PS – I still fundamentally believe in polyamory.

Fifty Shades of Forgetfulness

Before I launch into my commentary about “Fifty Shades” I would like to congratulate the author, EL James, on her incredible success. Anyone who manages to write a book with the sort of sales that this trilogy has achieved should be congratulated. Anyone who bothers to write about sexuality and get people to question their stance on sexuality, porn and erotica deserves a pat on the back.

However, and it really is a big ‘however’, there are problems. And they are big.

Having read the trilogy, I feel as though I could write a trilogy of comments in separate essays, which is what I may end up doing.

For all the positives of exploration of sexuality for the reader, there are problems with this book for me. Bullet pointing them does not mean the list is exhaustive. I may return at a later date to add more.

So,

·         There isn’t a single mention of female ejaculation

·         “And they all lived happily ever after”

·         “Dirty fuckery” is not erotica

·         The main character cums the first time she has sex and every time after, without any notion of an increase in her sexual enjoyment

·         BDSM is not the height of erotic sex

·         Dominant/submissive relationships are scary, dangerous and abusive; not something that the readers should aspire to!

·         There isn’t a single alternative word used for the vagina other than the phrase “my sex”

·         The language of climax is basic and unenlightened

·         Oh, and I repeat, there isn’t a single mention of female ejaculation

As I said, the list isn’t exhaustive, and I will return with more, and these bullet points are only commenting on the sexual content. The storyline is weak and predictable, the characters are deeply, deeply flawed and the repetitive nature of the descriptions of sexual climaxes are extremely off-putting.

Having said all that, I managed to get a few wanks out of reading, so it can’t have been that bad!

We are still incredibly fucked up about our attitude to sex. Even the most enlightened amongst us still grapple with the various complexities and contradictions, especially when it comes to the sometimes thin line between female empowerment through sex and the objectification of women.

It is a complex issue and shouldn’t be taken lightly. However, without the efforts of people like EL James we are never going to get the opportunity to discuss these issues and really consider our views on sexual matters.

The very fact that this book has sold so many copies both as published books and e-books shows that there is a market out there. The very fact that so many copies of the book have been bought by kindle readers also shows that many of us still want to hide away our secret interest in sex (and I realise that part of the increase in e-book sales is also down to the increase in usage of this method of reading).

I’m terribly excited by the whole phenomenon of a world finally putting their hands up in the air and saying, “Do you know what, I am interested in sex, and I like kinky stuff and I love that feeling between my legs when I am coming towards an orgasm, turned on by having a sexual encounter written down in front of me”.

All of this is great but is this “Fifty Shades” sex what people really want? Has it fully embraced the brilliance of female sexuality? Is it really erotic?

Sexual writing is difficult. I know because I have tried, and the danger of cliché is huge. (Ooh er geddit!) The problem really lies in the interpretation as much as in the writing. The author can describe a brilliant sexual experience that could be incredibly arousing for him or her but is devoid of sexuality for the reader. Sex is an incredibly personal thing, for all its sharing, and one person’s erotica is another person’s tedium. Every book has a reader at the end of it, and each reader is an individual. What works for one person doesn’t work for another, and therefore to write erotic prose that ‘does it’ for the majority is exceptionally difficult.

We also need to determine what we mean by Erotica.

For me, the whole point of erotica is the build-up. It is the enticement, the imagery, the imagination. For me, a photo of an incredibly beautiful woman, with the hint of sexual pleasure about to take place, is incredibly erotic. You may not even need to see her pussy or her tits. A hand carefully placed over her breasts or a mere pleating of a skirt within her fingers, inching the material up her thigh, is enough. It is my mind that creates the next step - without a massive description, and that is the most arousing. Whilst I was reading “Fifty Shades” with the help of a dildo, it was the pre-sex that was far more stimulating than the actual description of what took place with his “erection” and her “sex”.

The next issue I want to tackle is the whole BDSM as the ultimate sexual experience. Ever since Michael Hutchins died with a sexual act gone wrong, and others since, I get the impression that people assume that this is the only way to get a mind-blowing orgasm that cannot be experienced any other way.

Here’s the issue. Sex is a physical act but it is also all in the mind!

I really don’t think I need an orange stuffed in my mouth and my wrists tied together by my leather-bound lover in order to reach the incredible state of Satori that I already have experienced. NO amount of “kinky fuckery” is going to increase that heightened level of a natural high for me. I’ve had it, I’ve done it. I want it again, and again, and again.

It may be alluring. It may be exciting. I may get extremely turned on when I am tied up, restrained, blindfolded and yes, it is an exciting and erotic thought, but I cannot believe that this would give me a bigger orgasm than the one I get when I look into the eyes of a lover who is stimulating me beyond reason, getting the most incredible satisfaction from being inside me and sharing a climax together, simultaneously – and for me over and over again.

I know that I can get an orgasm from the kinky stuff, and they are good orgasms at that. But in all honesty, the very best sex is mind, body and soul, and nothing else comes near it.

The other issue about BDSM is the abuse.

Confession time……..

I like having a spank on my backside when I am clamouring on top of my lover, riding his cock to the greatest pleasure for both of us. I am hugely turned on by that. In fact, I can feel a glorious stirring as I write. But I am certainly not turned on by the idea of being physically attacked, abused or hurt, and the notion that within that spank, my lover wants to hurt me, is intolerable.

He doesn’t hit my arse because he gets some deviant pleasure from hurting me. It is all about stimulation and extending the sexual experience. It is not about being the dominant one, breaking his woman in etcetera.

Confession time ……………

I like playing the dominatrix occasionally, but never in an abusive way. I like demanding sex. I like telling my lover what I want and where I want it. I like to have his movement restricted with tied back hands so that I can get my jaw round his cock, when he is unable to move me away (not that he’d want to). That is exciting but I don’t want to whip him, I don’t want to hurt him. It’s just not the way I want it, and that is not to say that I don’t like a bit of rampant and urgent sex.

I like being fucked at the kitchen sink but I also like being fucked next to a coal fire, all naked and together, and I love being fucked in bed.

Sex is individual, and what works for some, doesn’t work for others. BDSM can be fun for some but it can also feel incredibly abusive as well, and it may well bring a hugely arousing and tantalising climax but such an orgasm will not be any better than a real Satori moment. I promise.

As I don’t want this essay to be too long, I will conclude with my biggest concern about the book.

Due to its extensive readership, this book could be seen as the ultimate sexual description. It may be some people’s first and even only description of what mind-blowing sex is like.

My problem is that it doesn’t include some hugely significant issues about female sexuality that manifests itself in the fact that there is not one single mention of female ejaculation.

If this woman is so damn turned on all the time, and if she is permanently moist, if she is getting her fair share of vaginal as well as clitoral orgasms, how come she has never dripped a droplet of juice out of her “sex” let alone had a massive gush?

Christian Grey, my boy, perhaps you’re not the great stud of a lover you think you are!

When I orgasm, I gush. Not all of the time but in honesty, very frequently, especially from a vaginal stimulation. What I am gushing out of my body is not piss. (See previous blogs on the subject).

This omission of acknowledgement of a woman’s ability to ejaculate from what is appearing to be a seminal book on sexuality, due to its popularity, is a serious issue for me.

Women cum, and they cum in all manner of ways, but please, please believe me, women gush. They are not just wet. They can explode if the stimulation and arousal is right. Women can even make themselves gush if they practice enough and learn about their own bodies.

And I love to gush which is why I feel so passionately about this.

At one point in the book, I forget which one, Christian tells Anastasia not to go to the toilet before they have sex. Why, she ponders?

Eventually he tells her that her orgasm will be intensified by having a full bladder!

Aaarrggghh!

Once more, we have a situation where there is absolutely no understanding of female sexuality. It isn’t a full bladder that makes an orgasm. It’s a full something but whatever splurges out of my pussy when I ejaculate has nothing to do with my bladder.

How do I know?

Well quite frankly, I’ve had sex on a full bladder and I still cum, and then release the urine afterwards. The orgasm is good, but it is nowhere near as good as emptying my bladder immediately before sex so I KNOW that there is no surplus in me, and I still emit the most incredible amount of built-up fluids and have THE most sensational orgasm.

I know!

When is someone going to write a definitive book about female ejaculation so that we stop shying away from the fact that it happens and the fact that we need to empower women to do what their bodies are naturally begging them to do?

I cringe with disappointment that the world cannot see this vital component of female sexuality and I am determined to put this right.

As it happens, water sports are my little fad. I love all things gushable from both male and female bodies. It is my “BDSM” but it is only a part of what sex is about.
Again, in the book when Christian said he needed to get a towel for Anastasia, I suddenly perked up. Finally, in the middle of Book Three they were going to get round to soaking a towel with her ejaculation.

Alas, I remained dissatisfied and the readers with no experience of such things remained in a virginal state about pussy explosions.

All he wanted the towel for was to protect the hotel furniture from the sensual oils he was covering his wife’s body with.

Disappointment is an understatement!

There were also a couple of comments within the book about peeing. Neither character would pee in front of one another, despite the fact that the fuck one another three or four times a day, despite spunking in mouths, despite a good amount of cunnilingus, despite doing unthinkable things with cuffs and blindfolds. The level of intimacy is immense. So what the hell is the problem with piss?

If people were more okay with seeing their partner piss then perhaps they would be more accepting of the non-piss that happens with female sexuality. Just a theory of mine, which is why I mention it.

So many people think that female ejaculation is urine. It isn’t, but even if it was, ensuring that there is no squeamishness about peeing could certainly alleviate concerns for women if they drip the juice, so to speak, during intercourse.

I am sure that EL James didn’t have any idea that her book was going to be as popular as it has turned out to be, and therefore her omissions are slightly excusable. But let’s not stop here.

The floodgates are open, if you excuse the pun. We cannot have this oversight. There needs another “Fifty Shades” without the forgetfulness of female ejaculation.

Keyboard to the ready!

More on Fifty Shades later, perhaps…………..

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/28/fifty-shades-grey-unerotic-savvy?newsfeed=true

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/woman/4401628/Fifty-Shades-of-Grey-boosts-naughty-mag-and-sex-toy-sales.html

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/28/fifty-shades-grey-one-million-paperbacks?newsfeed=true

Another Ending

The story so far............

An American couple in the 1920’s decide to move away from a spiritually and creatively bankrupt USA and travel to Europe where they both feel that they are ready to join the Bohemian writers’ of the Left Bank of the Seine.

Arriving in Paris, they soon join the set of ex-patriots and enjoy the wild and heady heights of late drinking in cafes together with a very decadent style of living. Everyone appears to have copious lovers and sex is all around them.

The wife has had a very conservative upbringing and is quite shocked at the promiscuity she witnesses. The husband is less shocked and completely confident of his fidelity.
On their first night in their new apartment, the wife is shocked to see two people in the courtyard fucking. She has never seen anyone have sex. She has never even seen her husband having sex because she always does it in the dark and he has never really seen his wife naked, not properly. Poor sod, no wonder he dropped his trousers as soon as he was asked to by the utterly beautiful and bewildering woman who shoved him into the nearest cubicle, lifted her skirt and doubled over to take it from behind.

Interestingly, it is not only the husband who is infatuated with this woman. The wife cannot take her eyes off her and soon finds that she too is overcome with passion for the woman, although she is terrified that she might be turning into a lesbian.

The woman who is fucking the husband is bisexual and takes a fond look at the wife, deciding that she wants to strip her of her sexual prudery. She really likes this woman and is shocked when she finds out that she is married to this bloke who she has started to ‘fall in love’ with. However, this does not hold her back as she has already formed a relationship with the woman that she wants to become sexually intimate.

The wife, on a weekend away with these new friends, discovers the woman and her husband having sex in the garden, mesmerised by the rawness of it, disappointed that she has never had this type of sex with her husband, intrigued why she is so turned on by watching it. In a fit of jealous rage, she asks a neighbour who is also at the party to fuck her, and again is so surprised at her ability to cum, mainly due to the arousal of watching her husband fuck this other woman whilst still feeling very cheated.

Eventually, after some consideration, she goes to the woman’s flat and leads her into the bedroom of her husband. She decides that the greatest love possible is to allow her husband to be the person that he truly is and give the woman to him. Simultaneously, she begins an affair with the woman too.

So this woman is fucking both of them without the husband knowing that the wife and his lover are at it too. He begins to get suspicious of the growing affection between his wife and his lover and follows them around town. Eventually, he lets himself into his lover’s apartment and finds his wife and lover fucking madly and clearly enjoying the experience massively.

He is distraught. He realises that he loves his wife more than anyone in the world but cannot give up his mistress. His wife realises that she loves the mistress more than anyone in the world and is not prepared to give her up for the sake of the marriage. The mistress loves the husband more than anyone in the world but does not want to come between a man and his woman. It’s all a bit of a nightmare, and who is going to sort it out?

......................................................................

Well, there are various possibilities. The chosen one was that the two women, having been discovered leave the man in the apartment and go off for a night on the town. Whilst they are gone, he magically discovers his lover’s diary, which informs him that she has a nondescript terminal illness and she has weeks to live. He searches for them once more and weeps in his lover’s arms as he confesses to this knowledge. She begs him not to tell his wife and she decides that she is going to go away to London on the pretence that she needs help with her morphine addiction.

They wave her off at the Gare de Nord and she travels to the next station, where she is picked up by another mutual friend who drives her to the coast where she jumps off the cliff in her beautiful red dress.

And the man and wife live happily ever after as in all good Brother Grimm stories.

But isn’t this a little bit of a cop-out. Here you have an intriguing scenario that is glibly and simply disregarded, possibly because the author did not know how to end it in any other way. I wonder whether he did think of alternatives, or perhaps he decided that he didn’t want to write as much as it would take to resolve or conclude with another viable ending.

So I am going to suggest what could have happened and invite any reader to do the same....... in summary for a longer version is really required.

........................................................................................................

Greg opened the door and walked in to the apartment. There was no sign of Eleanor or Sophia but he could hear from beyond the bedroom door a familiar sound of groaning passion. He knew that sound so well. His cock remained stiff many a time to the arousing melody of his mistress being engulfed by the overwhelming strength of the orgasms that he powerfully provoked within her.

He knew she had other lovers but this one was clearly good at his job. She really was exceptionally turned on.

What should he do? Should he turn away? Should he sit and wait until she was finished, possibly masturbating at the sound of the cumming tide? Or should he go in and see for himself who it was that was creating this beautiful murmuring that was so intoxicating?

He stood by the door and cupped his ear to the sounds. The man was exceptionally silent for all he could hear was the voice of his woman, demanding more fucking, anticipating and asking for cunnilingus.

His curiosity could not be tempered.

He opened the door quietly so that he would not disturb his lover, though clearly she might be a little disturbed if she saw him hovering over her bed.

He walked into the room, still darkened by the hour of the morning, and looked in intrigue as he saw his lover’s arse raised in the air as she knelt down to give fellatio to her other lover. He moved closer, quietly, without discovery to see that his lover was licking cunt not cock; a beautiful cunt, smothered in dark hairs that his lover was carefully twisting her tongue through, moistening an already moist pubic mass that could happily have taken his fingers simultaneously.

He followed the line from this beautiful pussy, taking in the curvature of the woman beneath his lover, feeling the softness of her breasts with his eyes, wondering at the divinity of these erect nipples, seeing the arched neck of the appreciative woman as she danced her way to an erotic orgasm; her face riddled with passion.

Her face, her face, eyes closed, lost in perfect love.

“What the fuck are you doing to my wife?”

He tore the remaining and discarded bedclothes away from the bed and looked down in horror as his wife gushed forth a profusion of juices from her excited cunt. Sophia giggled nervously at the timing of Eleanor’s eruption, and turned to Greg with a smile.

“It looks as though I am making her cum, sweetie” was all she could say for the evidence was there for him to see.

Eleanor darted up from this unexpected intrusion, desperately clasping a pillow to her bosom as she did not want to her husband to see her in this state of undress. How incredibly bizarre!

“Greg!” she called as her husband and his severely reduced erection charged from the room in disgust.

He sat down in the sitting room and put his head in his hands. How could they do this to him? How could they possibly betray him to this extent? How could she be unfaithful to him? How could she bloody cum like that?

Eleanor and Sophia sheepishly slid into the room in identical gowns. Sophia sat besides Greg and gently stroked his hair, caressing his anger out of him. Eleanor crossed the room and stood nervously before him, waiting for what was about to come.

“How could you Eleanor!” he said quietly from his downcast lips. “How could you? I have no idea who you are.”

“I love Sophia” she responded. “I love her just as you love her. Why is my love a crime and yours a passion?”

“You are my wife! You should be faithful to me and me alone!” was the utterly unwelcome response.

“So it is okay for you to fuck Sophia but not me” she screamed. “It is perfectly okay for me to give you the freedom to make love to this woman but I am not allowed the same liberty?”

“No, you’re not” shouted Greg, portraying his disgust as well as his irrationality.

Sophia removed her hand. She could not believe that she was hearing this madness from the man she loved.

“Greg, you are not being fair darling. I adore Eleanor and all we were doing was enjoying one another with as much tenderness and passion as she has allowed you and I to have. What is the difference honey? I still love you. She still loves you. You clearly still love us otherwise you would not be so upset, or are you somehow humiliated by this passion of ours?”

Greg sat silently. He knew that Sophia was telling the truth. How could he possibly object to his wife taking a lover, even his lover, if he was doing just that with the very same woman? And she was right. Nobody’s feelings had changed, just circumstance. But he was angry. He was jealous. He felt possessive, more about a possession of Eleanor than of Sophia. And he and she both realised in that moment that he did not love his lover in the way that he loved his wife.

He looked dejected. He did feel humiliated but he could not understand why. He could not fathom how he could be so stupid as to resent this growing love between the two women in his life that meant more to him than anything.

They all sat in silence. Greg, having finally raised his head, leant back into the comfort of the sofa. Sophia looked on at him with her hand on his leg. Eleanor sat at the dining chair watching them both, not moving, understanding at once how much she adored them both, how intensely intimate she was with both, how much she longed for them both, how infatuated she was with Sophia.

This was a mess.

Sophia loved Greg. Greg loved Eleanor. Eleanor loved Sophia.

Greg loved Sophia but not as much as he loved Eleanor. Eleanor loved Greg but not as much as she loved Sophia. Sophia loved Eleanor but not as much as she loved Greg.

How were they ever going to come to terms with this? How were they going to break free from the destructive emotions that could break them all into dispirited pieces of emptiness?

More silence and more stillness. Nobody dared to speak.

Suddenly, Sophia rose from the settee, stood where both her lovers could see her, and threw the robe ceremoniously from her body. She stood there in all her bewildering beauty with her hands on her hips, staring from one to the other. She then sat down on the floor of her apartment, straddling her legs and started to dramatically and urgently fist herself, looking from one to the other and then abandoning all onlookers to the orgasm that she was about to have.

She lay down as the moisture erupted out of her, drawing an hysterical line of war between husband and wife.

She drew the ejaculation up her body, lining her stomach and her breasts with this torrent of water, smiling to herself in the climax she had induced.

Eleanor stood up, looked straight down at Sophia and discarded her robe in the same manner. Greg watched on. She then moved over to Sophia’s aroused and climaxed body and stood above her, fingers carefully shoved up her cunt. After Sophia’s display it was not long before Eleanor too was cascading eruptions of fuck juices out of her body, straight onto the pubic hairs of her wonderful lover.

The women both laughed at the power of their cunts.

Having cum all over Sophia, Eleanor turned to her husband. She stood in front of him and masturbated once more, with just enough distance that he would have had to move had he wished to touch her. As she felt herself climaxing once more she shot towards him and fired her juices all over his trousers.

He was soaked.

“For fuck’s sake, Ellie” he cried as he jumped off the sofa to remove his cum-clad pants.

Both women were giggling ferociously now and in spite of his frustration and angry passion, it was clear by the protrusion of his penis that Greg was as aroused as his women.

Eleanor took advantage of the situation, kneeling down before her husband and taking his cock in her mouth for the first time in the seven years that they had known one another. Her expertise of tongue and hand movement so surprised him that he snidely lurched an unnecessary comment out of his mouth.

“So where did you learn that from, honey?”

Eleaonor refused to rise to the bait.

“Instinct sweetie” she replied.

“Hell yes” said Sophia “This woman of yours Greg has the most superb sexual instinct. She fucks me better than a practiced whore from the Moulin Rouge. I’ve never seen or felt anything like it!”

“Oh so you prefer my wife’s fingers to my cock now?” he bitterly spat out as his erection still remained, as his wife still hungrily devoured his cock.

“Go my darling” said Sophia to Eleanor. “Pull on him. Jack him off. Hand fuck him hard”

Eleanor was expertly wanking her husband as her lover knelt down before her, moving her arms around her neck, kissing her passionately, making her way to her bobbing breasts, stimulating those delightfully piquant nipples. Eleanor continued, reaching out for Sophia’s kisses, lookin up at Greg who was finally lost in the sensuality of the moment.

“NOW!” shouted Sophia as she thrust Eleanor’s open mouth onto her husband’s cock just at the moment that an urgent spurt of white gunk poured out of this penis.

“Oh my goodness!” was Eleanor’s inexplicable politeness.

“Tastes good doesn’t it, honey” said Sophia as she stole some of Greg’s spunk from her lover’s mouth, feeling the tingle of anaesthetic on her tongue.

Greg collapsed into his chair, his penis still dribbling the remnants of his arousal.

The two woman collapsed on the floor but were soon embroiled in more sexiness as Eleanor took it upon herself to release another orgasm from Sophie.

“Are you two fucking insatiable?” shouted Greg, though with a distinctively different tone in his voice.

The women did not respond but carried on making love in front of their man, and all he could do was watch with the most immense satisfaction.

Once they had finished arousing one another once more, they both instinctively jumped onto the sofa, either side of their man, taking it in turns to sit on top of him, riding his cock for the next half hour, kissing one another intimately as they did so.

In the most incredibly arousing moment, all three of them came together as Greg spurted more semen into his wife’s pussy, as Sophia wanked at the joy of watching, as Eleanor reciprocated with her own flood of juices.

Together, they all flopped onto the settee in completion.

“So what now?” asked Eleanor much later.

“I don’t know” said Greg. “I really don’t know”.

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TO BE CONTINUED

Sexual Snippets

Sexual Snippets: I wanted to write this evening only I wasn’t sure what to write about. Therefore the following may not be of particular interest or intrigue and is probably more for my benefit than the reader. However, I hope it is appreciated nonetheless.

The Taste of Things to Cum

I love it when I experience small synergies in my life. It makes me feel connected to the world and the people within. It is a quirky, surreal experience when some unrelated and isolated events or situations are moulded together through some invisible strand, pulling us all together in some form of unity.
We are all different, with unique needs and particular passions but then, all of a sudden, something connects.

Last week my lover was talking to me about food. He commented on how I was unusual in my liking for extremely hot and spicy food. He pondered on the idea that my cum and lubricant may taste different depending upon what I had eaten, and suggested, with his own liking for fiery tastes, that we might experiment to find out whether I tasted different after a madras curry or a particularly raunchy chilli.

I’m more than happy to oblige.

I rather like the idea of doing a food diary with a difference…. “Today I have been mostly eating……. So how do my fuck juices taste today?”

I’m even happier to oblige if it means that I get extra cunnilingus.
I adore cunnilingus.
Having his tongue wander around my pussy is one of the most divine and sensual experiences that I can get. Forcing his tongue inside me in preparation for his fingers frolicking around my fanny, sending me to orgasmic highs is stupendous and that is before he has finished me off with a wonderful cock slide, straight in to stimulate me some more.

But back to the taste test.
I rather like my lover been so accustomed to the variety of taste in my fuck juices that he can stick his tongue inside me and tell me what I had for dinner! How cool would that be!
I also rather like the idea of him getting a splendid spicy flavour from my juices that tingles his taste buds but I fear the amount of liquid that he encourages me to cascade may just dilute the effect. More of this later.

No sooner had we had this conversation that I read an account of a man who deliberately changes his diet to ensure his spunk tastes as good as it can. I hadn’t really considered the effects of diet on fuck juices and then within forty eight hours, the subject comes up twice.
I think a serious scientific study should be done on this. It could be life changing for those who are reluctant to engage in fellatio or cunnilingus, purely on the taste factor. It could be enormously liberating if someone could make a connection between a specific food and the deliciousness of secretions.
And just in case this can be proven, I will continue to eat chocolate and oranges to make my stuff as sweet as possible.

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Inexhaustible Gushes

I apologise to those readers who have considerable sexual experience. Mine have been somewhat average; more than most, considerably less than others, according to recent statistical information.
Of course these surveys are asking about frequency of sex rather than quality, and to this extent as I say, mine have been average, as has the quality, until recently.

So I have another query regarding sex and the bodily functions of an active, turned on woman of my age, or indeed any age.

Can you run out of sex juice?

I once had a conversation with a group of young lads in the course of my work, explaining how sperm was made and how millions of the little blighters were produced daily. The horror on one of the boys face was hysterical. He literally turned ashen and white. His smile faded and a look of the utmost concern registered distinctly in his eyes.
Willing him to ask a question before having to directly acknowledge his concern, I waited for the inevitable. Thankfully he asked before being cajoled.
“What happens to all the sperm? Where does it go?”

The poor lad had visions of his balls exploding if he didn’t manage to get the damn things out of him with a little help from Lucy and Rita.

As we know, the sperm disappears of its own volition without the masturbatory assistance of the aforementioned left and right hands, although I would strongly advocate that if the need is there to assist the little fellows on their way, then the mantle should indeed be firmly grasped.

The recollection of this conversation made me think about women and their fuck juices.
For example, how rapidly do they develop? I would suggest – pretty quickly between being stimulated and gushing forth.
Is there a part of your body that stores this juice? Well clearly not, otherwise there would be poor virginal women across the world with masses of fluid in their bodies waiting to strike forth.
Can you run out? If so, for how long? Or is the female body so incredible (which of course it is) that it can produce this stuff on tap given the right stimulation?

Last week, I had the utter joy of an immense amount of sex. On Monday, I came all over my beautiful friend as he lay on top of me, fucking me senseless. As soon as he slid his cock inside me, the impact of it being within me made me cum everywhere. Great swathes of juices were pouring out of me. Within the hour, I was riding his cock that was deeply pushed within me, whilst simultaneously stimulating my clitoris. Same thing happened – a mini cataract over his balls, his dick, his stomach and his bedclothes, dribbling out of me and down the side of his legs.
After lunch, we fucked some more and I covered the poor man’s settee in yet more juices, thoroughly soaking his t-shirt and my shirt.

The same happened on Thursday. More towels were needed and more fuck juices poured out of me.

Friday was sensational. Our love making was incredibly tender but fucking hard or sensually making love – it makes no difference. I still cum with incredible volume and intensity. Gallons of juices spill out and after some unbelievably powerful orgasms, I thought that there could not possibly be anything left to come out.

Before the cynics amongst you think I must have been drinking too much water or needing a pee, I can assure you this was not the case. I had neither drunk to excess nor needed to go to the loo prior to having sex.

More sex after lunch produced the same amount of cum and I honestly think that had I stayed in the place any longer, I would still have managed to get another gush out.
So what physically happens to my body? And am I capable of producing that much cum all day?
The other issue is that I am convinced that the more I cum, the more frequent the gushes, the more I want to cum some more, the more I do cum some more.

It seems to me that there is a strong possibility that the cleverness of the female form is such that it really does have the capacity and capability to have inexhaustible amounts of gush.
As with the food tasting experiment, I would now like to put myself forward as a human guinea pig. I want to fuck my man all day – from, let’s say, nine in the morning to nine in the evening – a full twelve hours of bonking. Mmmmm, guess whose fanny is filling up at the prospect?

Again, for those who may be concerned about my poor lover having to deal with this middle aged nymph, fear not. As I have explained on many occasions before, there is more to sexual stimulation than mere penetration. Even if he did get exhausted with fucking me with his cock, then he has plenty of well exercised fingers that are more than capable of curving into my cunt to extract more cascades of cum. And I am yet to exhaust him completely for he too has a very vociferous and healthy appetite for sex. He can keep going for a hell of a long time, and his cock is happily and frequently ready for as much sex as my pussy.

The results of these experiments will, of course, be written about on these pages.

Watch and wait.
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Fucking Frustration

It’s been a long week. After a thoroughly fulfilled sexual experience last week, I have had to go to the other extreme this week with no penetrative sex at all.
My dildo has had plenty of action and awaits me now as I conclude this writing.
It is Thursday and I am probably not going to have sex again for some considerable time.
I’ll survive but right now, I could seriously do with getting into my car, driving a reasonable distance and jumping into bed with a man who I know would appreciate the company.

It is not “fucking frustration” at all really because I have more than my fair share of wondrous sex, and despite outward appearances, I can cope without it. I recently went for an immense amount of time without it, and I coped.

But just as sleep breeds sleep, then so to does sexual desire demand more sex.
Last week’s marathon of sex did not placate my need or desire, rather it exacerbated it.

Today, I had the unexpected fortune of spending an hour with my beautiful friend, all the more lovely for it being totally unplanned and a huge surprise. We had a gloriously sexual snog, followed by a quick grope, just enough for him to get some of my lube on his fingers to taste immediately and also to hopefully linger long after I had gone. I managed a quick fondle of his balls and cock, loving the feeling of its arousal, and then we had to stop, behave ourselves, be rational and I had to take my leave.

It was wonderful, it truly was but tearing myself away was quite torturous. And now, I am longing to be in his bed and giving him some much deserved attention. I seriously hope that the sight of me, frazzled and unbecoming as I was, has given him the impetus to grab his gorgeous big one in his hand, slowly wanking himself to climax, whilst thinking about me doing the very same.

………. Where the fuck have I put my vibrator?