Sharing The Love….


Art work courtesy of @tastyartgurlerotic3

Apologies for the hiatus in my blog updates… I have been a bit overwhelmed with work for the past couple of months and have also lost touch with my psychologist friend who I relied upon to talk through my experiences with and help me interpret their meanings and significance.

Anyways, during this absence I had found myself thinking quite a lot about one particular period in my life of which I have really quite intense memories. Central to these memories was an encounter with probably the most liberated two people I have ever met. They were deeply in love with each other and yet completely disinhibited sexually, their trust for each other was beyond question.

I had just arrived in London having returned from living in the Middle East for a few years and was living Primrose Hill, a leafy enclave nestled between St John’s Wood and Camden Town. I spent a lot of time socialising and getting to know people in my new environment. Primrose Hill has always had something of a Bohemian atmosphere about it, being home to many artists and writers over the years, and has become a particularly trendy bolt hole for for actors, musicians, models and many from the creative world generally.

It was a quite intensely hedonistic time for me. Single, with money in my pocket, I was certainly enjoying myself and my new community of friends and acquaintances. A regular haunt was a pub in the heart of Primrose Hill which was always busy and had real buzz about it. I used to be found there most evenings, soaking up the vibe and generally watching the world go by.

I had befriended a young middle aged couple, John and Julia, with whom I had quickly struck up a rapport. She worked in the city and he was a partner in a design consultancy. We shared a passion for music, and John and I had a great love of photography. Many an evening was spent chatting over a bottle of wine (or two) before going our separate ways. It was on one such evening that they invited me over to their place. I was new to digital photography and as John worked in graphic design and working with digital images all the time, it was the perfect opportunity for me to get some pointers on how to use my new camera with my computer.

There was distinct tension in the air whenever we met. Not an uncomfortable one, it is difficult to explain. It was as though I was being flirted with. Something unsaid. Not blatant innuendo, just a certain ambiguity.

I agreed to call around that Friday after work, intrigued by my new friends and eager to discover more.

As I stood at the door of the large Georgian terrace I could hear the sound of heals on the tiled hallway. Julia opened the heavy door and greeted me with her usual warm smile. She had also just finished a long week in her office and judging by the large G and T in her hand was in the mood to relax.

“Hi Jim. John will be home later but shouldn’t be too long so come on in.”

I followed her through the spacious tiled hallway to the lounge. “Fancy a drink?” I thanked her and asked for a vodka tonic. As she walked through to the kitchen to prepare my drink I watched her. Julia is probably around 45 and of average height. This evening she appeared taller in her heels. A well-kept woman looking good for her age, she looked spectacular in her work clothes. A sheer white blouse and fitted skirt stopping just above her knees. Her figure had the fullness that mature women carry so well yet retaining an elegance that younger women struggle to achieve. The fullness of her breasts accentuated by the sheerness of her blouse and the white lace of her bra revealing itself where it touched.

She returned with my drink, momentarily breaking my train of thought, but only momentarily. As she placed the drink on the coffee table in front of me she flicked her highlighted bobbed hair from her eyes and caught me briefly gazing at her breasts. I quickly looked away and complimented the pictures on the wall. They were mainly photographs by John, several urban black and white shots and a couple of portraits of Julia. The portraits were not the cheesy wedding style shots but stylishly taken natural light pictures taken candidly but perfectly capturing Julia’s beauty. “Johns passion” she told me, “natural light, and black and white.”

“They are very good. Particularly the portraits,” I told her. She sat down at the coffee table and crossed her stockinged legs. Whilst sipping from her drink she told me that John particularly enjoyed photographing the female form, and that she found it quite erotic, not the over the top kind of stuff on the web, tasteful well lit portraits. I agreed, “It is wonderful the way a talented photographer can capture in one image the passions that feed the mind, without resorting to a graphic series of images which tend to look stilted and choreographed.” She was impressed. “A woman does not need titillation like that. Just that special hint of something. It allows space for the mind to explore.”

I could only sit and admire this woman. Elegant, mature, and with clear views of sexuality and the power of the mind. My admiration was starting to become obvious as I kept glancing at the crossed legs and the way one foot curled around the calf of her other leg. Again I was snared. A smile crept to her lips as she knowingly let the heel of a shoe slip, leaving the shiny leather dangling from her elevated toes.

“What is it that you look for in images Jim? Are you a tits’n ass kind of man, or am I being too open?”

“Not in the least Julia. It is usually subtle things that arouse me. Simplicity. The tension a bra causes on a woman’s back. Loose flowing cotton over naked skin.”

“All very heterosexual. All very female orientated then,” she interrupted.


At that point there was the sound of the front door closing. John was back. “Julia. Julia I’m home.”

“We are in here,” Julia called.

John came into the room carrying a battered messenger bag and wearing his usual denims and a leather jacket over a white T-shirt.

“Hi Jim. How goes it? I see Julia is looking after you.”

“Good John, very good. How was your day?” I replied.

“Oh the usual stuff. Deadlines and more deadlines… Pour me a drink love. We will be through in the study. Come on Jim its through here.” John strode back into the hall, kissing Julia fully as he went.

I followed him, still partially stunned by Julia’s last comment to me.

John’s study was adjacent to the lounge. A sofa sat along one wall whilst a huge desk sat in the opposite bay window. The walls were covered with photographs, many of them pictures of Julia. On the desk sat a powerful looking Mac with a large flat screen. At the desk were a couple of chairs.

“Sit down Jim,” John said pointing at one of them. I walked towards the desk whilst taking in the pictures.

“So what is it you are having problems with Jim?” John asks me.

“Well its mainly Lightroom issues.”

“Not a problem any more. I am your man,” he replies throwing his leather jacket over the back of the other chair and firing up the Mac.

Whilst this was going on Julia has returned with John’s drink and a top up for me. I cannot help but notice that her blouse has been unbuttoned a little further than it was previously. The angle of her reaching has caused it to gape and reveal. I could only stare, captivated, and uncomfortably aroused. This woman was teasing me to an extent that would become too obvious too soon.

“I think I will take a bath John. You boys are OK with that aren’t you?”

“Fire ahead babe,” John replied. “We are fine. I am going to work through a few pics with Jim.”

John tapped a few keys on the Mac and opened up Photoshop. “So what do you find tricky?”

“Well it’s tweaking my pics really. When white is too white and black is too black. No detail, you know?” I replied.

“Gotcha. You want to sort out the exposure. I’ll open a few pics and we can play around a bit.”

John scrolled through some files and opened up a photo of Julia. I will never forget that picture. It was a waist up shot and all she was wearing was a beautiful white bra. The fullness of her breasts pressing against the fabric. All the while John was telling me technical aspects of the shot and I was not hearing a word. A few clicks later and I was seeing a full frame close-up of one breast. The detail was fantastic. The texture of Julia’s nipple was visible through the lace of the bra.

“………You are not listening Jim!” John said loudly.

“I am so sorry John. It is just that the pic. is so good…. I was taken away.”

“I can see that Jim!” he replied looking down at my crotch. “She’s wonderful to photograph. Let me put on a little slide show for you. Maybe that will get it out of your system!” With that he quickly typed a few commands and immediately the screen darkened and then flickered to life. The pictures changed every ten seconds or so. It was a series of pictures depicting Julia undressing. It was really erotic stuff. Not over the top, just sexy shots of a mature woman. That was until the next photo! The camera view had widened and panned. Two guys were sitting on a sofa naked. Both of them had large erections. What made the scene really provocative was that one of the guys was holding the others cock. It was then that I realised that the guy being held was John! Not only that, it was taken in this very room! My heart was racing and my cock was solid. I looked over at John. To my amazement he was holding his cock luridly through his jeans. As I watched he began removing his clothes, standing and letting his jeans fall to the floor.

“You are welcome to join me Jim. In fact Julia will be back soon and she will be so disappointed if things haven’t started hotting up.”

“Are you sure John? I mean this seems like a dream”

“Just get naked Jim. Not shy are you?”

I responded by simply gazing at John’s now rampant cock. The large purple head was totally engorged and a bead of pre-cum had formed at the tip. I slowly began to unfasten my jeans, letting them fall to the floor and kicked my shoes off. The sudden freedom allowed my cock to fully harden and start bursting through from the tight foreskin. As I removed my T-shirt, in that moment of blindness, I felt a hand on my cock. The T-shirt gone, John was standing close and loosely holding my oozing hardness. As I watched, John gently ran a finger around the head of my cock and caught a dribble of pre-cum. He slowly massaged the juice into his left nipple and then licked his finger clean. Our two cocks were now gently bouncing off each other, duelling and blending the free-flowing fluid. I lowered my head and brought my lips to the nipple, tasting myself.

Unbeknown to John and myself, Julia had returned. She was standing by the sofa wearing exactly the same white underwear that she had worn in the pictures. It dawned on me that all of this was a plot. I was a willing participant in a devious seduction that they had schemed, and probably one they had enacted before.

Julia slowly sat down on the sofa, and without saying a word lay back and slipped a hand inside her panties and guided a finger to her clit. John took hold of my cock again and led me towards her. Standing at her feet, John pressed me down to my knees by my shoulders. I needed no more guidance. John’s cock was alongside my head whilst I watched Julia’s frantic fingers. I turned my head slowly and took John into my mouth. An almost silent gasp came from Julia as I held John firmly with my lips. I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine as I went to work. I perched on the edge of the sofa and slowly but urgently rose up and down on the shaft of Johns cock. Julia’s elbow nudging me as she slid her slender fingers through the wet groove of her pussy. I watched as I sucked on John. His head was thrown back in his approaching orgasm. I took John from my mouth and wanked the solid manhood. Julia had pulled down the fabric of a cup of her bra and was pulling her nipple between her fingers, her other hand still doing their own magic. I could feel the solidness of Johns cock start to intensify, and his balls had tightened. Julia could sense his imminent cum and arched her back to greet it. With a firm long pull on John’s cock I could tell he could hold on no longer. With a deep groan John’s cock erupted, a violent spurt of cum arced through the air and fell on Julia, some on her bra but most on her exposed breast. A second less violent jet landed on her panties covering her busy hand. The remainder of John’s orgasm trickled down my milking hand. Julia reached for my shoulder and pulled me down to her breast. I eagerly started to lick her heavy breast, devouring the cream her partner had deposited. Her thick, hard nipple felt wonderful between my lips. I lifted my head and Julia kissed me deeply, devouring the cum from my tongue. With a gentle pressure she pushed me down to her panties. I could smell her deeply feminine wetness mixed with John’s cum. As my tongue probed her labia John was being fed cum from her mouth. His cock was resting by my cheek, I turned and took his semi erect and oozing cock into my mouth. He was slowly hardening again with my attentions. My head bobbing, I slid the wet panties down Julia’s silky thighs. The wet fabric clinging to one slender foot, she parted her legs. I took John’s cock from my mouth and brought it to Julia’s waiting wetness, running my tongue along one of the lips as I teased her clit with the head of his now solid cock. Julia gripped his waist firmly and pulled, forcing him into her as I guided his thrust. Briefly motionless, John started slowly gliding out then in again, my tongue greeting the exposed length of the shaft. The mingled tastes sent my head spinning. My cock by now had reached the point where it desperately needed attention. I firmly gripped myself and then felt Julia’s hand clutching my wrist and pulling my hand away, only for it to be replaced by her waiting mouth. Hungrily she sucked hard on my dripping hardness whilst John drove deeply. I felt the sear of cum start it’s inevitable journey. I pulled away from Julia just before I exploded, her mouth pleading for satisfaction. A thick rope of cum flew across her chin and over her breasts, as John continued his journey into satisfying the couple’s frantic needs. She threw back her head and arched her back as I reached for her swollen clit, her hands clinging to the sofa as John’s urgency took over. My fingers frantically worked on her, desperately trying to intensify the approaching violence of her approaching ecstasy. She moaned unintelligibly as her whole body began to spasm uncontrollably. With my free hand I massaged her heaving wet breasts, coating my fingers with my seed. I raised my hand to John’s gasping mouth and fed him. This was the trigger for his release. I could feel the shaft of his cock swell against my fingers as he filled her. Julia was shaking as the overwhelming sensation rippled through her body. John collapsed forwards across her, his breathing heavy from his exertions. She clung to him as they came down and I watched on… alone.

Led Astray…


When I look back over the years at my sexual encounters, I have discovered that some aspects seem to be common factors in many of them. Take age for instance. Quite a few of my experiences have involved older lovers. I have thought long and hard as to why that might be and have been drawn to the conclusion that this is probably because of one of the other recurring aspects… I am aroused by the notion of being led astray. This explains my attraction to more mature playmates, their experience and being less inhibited in their demands, manifests itself as them taking a very leading role in the encounters. Even in my last blog post, Emma, though the same age as me, took the leading role in regards inviting the other man into our play. Had she not done that, then it very likely wouldn’t have happened. She led me into accepting him.

We mustn’t forget the “forbidden fruit” component either… the tantalising reward, the lure. In my first blog post, Patrick seduced me. He implanted an idea which he knew I could not resist. Such is the intoxicating nature of the desires to fulfil what had only been fantasy. I genuinely believe that the only way we can ever manage this, is by allowing ourselves to be exposed. Rid ourselves of the constraints that convention shackles us with, and embrace new experiences. 

I ran this past my wonderful friend and confidant and she suggested that I was displaying typical “submissive” traits in this. I was taken aback at first. I had never considered that. I explained that I enjoyed the power that I felt in my giving pleasure, and she replied that this is a huge component in the submissive role and not to be fooled by the job title! It was becoming clearer to me that she was right. I was relinquishing the responsibility of “leading” the direction of play by permitting others to “lead me astray”.

My story today centres on an encounter that occurred when I was mid twenties. I was at my parents home during the Easter break from my studies. They were away on holiday and I was looking after the house for them. 

I had spent the day out climbing with friends and returned to the house around seven in the evening. It was unseasonably warm weather we were having, and even though the sun was going down, it was still pleasant enough to sit out. I got myself a beer and went out into the yard. It was a lovely evening and I decided to roll myself a joint to have with my beer in the setting sun. I’ve never been big on drugs but during university years I did mess around a bit… as everyone else did. 

As I sat in the evening light I could hear my neighbour, Mrs Moore, getting her two year old ready for bed. It was such a peaceful scene, starlings calling as they prepared to roost for the night. All was good. The joint was hitting the spot.

I was disturbed from my daydreams when I heard Mrs Moore calling my name. I opened my eyes and saw her walking from her kitchen into the garden to gather her drying laundry. “Can I smell what I think I can JIm?” She asked me, with a grin on her face. Flustered, I replied “I don’t know what you mean Mrs Moore”. “Don’t play the innocent with me young man!” She mocked me as she plucked clothes from the line. She smiled knowingly. I blushed.

I had always admired Mrs Moore. Her husband was always working away and when he was home he spent most evenings in local bars. She pretty much did everything for the child and held down a part time job as well. That aside, I had always found her an attractive woman. She generally dressed conservatively, but as a young man, her very womanly charms were not lost on me. She appeared at first rather plain, but there was something alluring about her. I would guess she was around her early forties or so, a little younger than my mother. Shoulder length brown hair, usually always tied up, and a olive complexion which revealed her Mediterranean roots. 

As she made her way back to the house I watched. She was wearing a button through summer frock which flattered her curves, which was unusual because she would normally have a cardigan concealing her figure. “So when the cats away the mice will play” she giggled. I smiled. She obviously knew my parents were abroad. “Fancy sharing some of that?” She asked. Taken aback “Really? Well are you sure?” I blurted in reply. “I was doing that when you were a twinkle in your mothers eye Young man!” She told me. “Let me get Toby to bed and I’ll open a bottle of wine”.

I was stunned. My mind was racing, unaccustomed to my neighbour being so forward. I had always seen her as quite reserved and rather staid. Almost matronly. 

About fifteen minutes passed until Mrs Moore appeared at her back door and waved me over. As I entered her kitchen I asked where Mr Moore was and she said he was in Paris for the week. She got two glasses from a cupboard and opened the fridge door. “White Ok?” She asked. “Yes Mrs Moore” I replied. “Well you can stop calling me Mrs Moore straight away! Especially if we’re going to share a spliff” she said laughing. “Call me Anne”. I was blushing again. She began pouring the wine and we chatted about how university was going as I rolled a joint at the kitchen table. As we chatted I couldn’t keep my eyes from her. The front of her dress was soaked from bathing her son Toby before bed. The fabric of her bra was visible where her breasts touched her dress. The strap had slipped from her shoulder and hung down her arm. I sprinkled the weed into the cigarette papers. “It’s been twenty years since I did this…. Glastonbury Festival!” She said as she walked towards where I sat with the two glasses of wine. I am sure she knew I was watching her. I took a glass from her, “Cheers Jim!” I raised my glass to hers and we chinked them together. I could feel her eyes on me as she brought the glass to her lips and sat down in the chair beside me. She crossed her legs slowly and caught my downward gaze as I rolled the joint. Silky smooth and toned, the lower two buttons of her dress were undone and exposed her soft thighs. One of her sandals dangled from her foot precariously. I brought the joint to my lips and lit up, drawing on it deeply and then passing it over to her. She slipped a hand inside the shoulder of her dress and retrieved the slipped bra strap, watching my eyes as she did so. I detected a hint of a smile. She inhaled deeply on the joint… her full breasts pressing against the fabric of the dress. The damp material like a second skin, revealing her femininity. I was mesmerised by her, and she knew it. She exhaled and took a sip from her glass leaving just a hint of lipstick on the rim. She handed me back the joint and stood up. She stepped nearer to me and reached up to a shelf above me and switched on some music. I could feel my body responding. I was being toyed with. Every movement she made was designed for specific effect… and it was working. My words came out as stuttered nonsense. I was completely captivated. The tension in the room was unbearable. She was talking to me and I wasn’t hearing her, such was the effect of her proximity. I felt her leg brush mine as she returned to the table. Instead of sitting in the chair she perched herself on the edge of the table. “You’re not listening Jim!” She spoke. “I’m sorry I’m sorry” I stammered, brutally aware of my embarrassment. “I said! He doesn’t look at me like that anymore” she said. “Who?” I replied, “like what?” I added. “Don’t play dumb Jim.. I’m not fucking stupid. You’ve been undressing me with your eyes ever since you walked through the door!” She said, her voiced raised. I couldn’t find any words. I just stared back at her, mute. I got to my feet and turned towards the door. I felt her hand grab my shirt and stop me in my tracks. “Oh no you don’t!” She hissed. I turned towards her. I will always remember the look in her eyes. “Go on… touch them”. I froze. She took my hand and brought it to her breast.. Slowly she released my hand. Still she stared at me. Gently I let my hand explore the contours. I could feel her breathing become heavier as my hand gradually encircled her and stroked the tense fabric of her dress and her breast beneath. My thumb searched for and found her hardening nipple. I felt her hands begin to unbutton the front of her dress, her hair brushing my face as she looked down. I shivered. She looked up and brought her face to mine. The kiss was tentative. Gently brushing lips. Then savage. Desperate and wild, our tongues hungrily probing deeply, discovering. My hand slid inside her open frock and clawed at the heavy lace. I found the edge of the fabric and pulled down, allowing her to spill free. I felt her do the same with her other breast and push down on my shoulder. Gradually I kissed my way down her neck, down, down. I could feel the perspiration on the heaving flesh of her breasts. With one hand she held my head and pulled it to her breast which she cupped in her other. I licked the deliciously roughness of her hard nipple. Gently I took it in my mouth and delicately nibbled… “Harder!” She groaned at me. Hungrily I obeyed. My hand reached for her other breast. I roughly squeezed the voluptuousness of her. Her thighs gripped my torso as she slid back in the table… her dress fell apart. I looked up at her and saw a woman possessed. Her eyes piercing mine. She grabbed my head in both hands and pushed me down. Our eyes were locked as I followed her guidance. My chin rested on her lace covered pubis, her eyes instructing me. With one hand she pulled the damp material aside and pressed down on my head. Her musky smell filled my nostrils as I gently ran my tongue delicately along the length of her swollen lips. Violently, she pulled at my hair and ground herself against my face. “Fucking eat me!” She snarled whilst kneading at her breast with one hand. I gently parted her thighs wider and began to devour her delicious femininity, exploring every fold. My fingers probing her pinkness. First one then two, sliding against the smooth walls as I focussed on her clit with my tongue. With one hand I struggled to remove my shorts… the moment had taken over completely. I slowly got to my feet. As I did so she brought her thighs back together and I slid her panties down her legs and she spread them wide again, wrapping her legs around me, drawing me closer. She reached for me, gripping firmly. Slowly she began to part her lips with the engorged purple head. I looked at her before me. An intensely erotic vision… this beautiful mature woman spread before me. Even in her dominance, she retained an exquisite vulnerability. She had led me astray… and now she had unleashed me. The roles had shifted, for now she was mine. Where her eyes had been full of confident intent… they now told a story of a desperate yearning.

A Stranger.




Image courtesy of @tastartgurlerotic3

In today’s post I am going to explore my memories of the first time a third person was introduced to my lovemaking… I say lovemaking because there was the emotional attachment that is missing from the previous blog posts. I write about this because of it’s relevance in my sexual/emotional development… in many respects it was a pivotal moment and has been a backdrop to so many of my erotic fantasies ever since. Emotionally it is of enormous significance to me because it challenged my previously held view that sexual pleasure in a loving relationship had to be enjoyed solely between the couple. I had struggled with the guilt I harboured through my promiscuous activities, and this was because of my upbringing and how sexuality was dealt with in my family… or not, as the case may be!

That aside, there is still a certain social taboo associated with extra-relationship sexual encounters. Of course we all know it happens, but never in an open , transparent natural way. It is always regarded as an object of gossip and rumour… a point of fun making, and clearly the behaviour of kinky perverts. Then there is the question of “How could she/he ever let him/her fuck another?” ….and the endless denial that each and every one of us has of secret fantasies in our minds and never explores beyond the constraints of monogamous relationships. This is before we even consider the jealousies that are unleashed.


Jealousy is one of our most visceral of responses and can be triggered incredibly easily by a vast array of influences and once our psyche starts to process these the outcomes can be quite devastating in effect, not only to the host of the feelings but to the relationship as well. 

I generally feel in control of any irrational jealous responses I might experience, but such is the intoxicating nature of the emotion that I have fallen into it’s trap, even when the “threat” to the relationship is really quite irrational. Recently I have experienced precisely that… falling for someone online and even though, intellectually, I am fully aware of their ongoing commitments to their “real life” relationship, the pangs of jealousy I have experienced have been quite intensely palpable, even having never met the person.

The complexities and vagaries of how jealousy manifests itself in our psyche are far beyond the scope of this little blog missive. Suffice it to say that it was not a factor in the encounter I am describing here, far from it.

Jealousy, whilst being a potentially painful and destructive force, also has a positive value in that it drives individuals to examine their behaviours if they are to maintain their valued relationship.

There is a fly in this ointment… Polyamorists talk of “Compersion”, essentially the opposite of jealousy. The idea being that whatever makes your partner happy is pleasing to you. Wonderful in concept, but requires a deep understanding between the individuals for the visceral nature of jealousy to be authentically overcome. Feeling secure in a relationship is an intoxicating item, with even the slightest hint of it being breached invoking intense responses.

Personally, I don’t see myself as truly compersive, or for that matter, at all. I adore giving pleasure, I adore my partner experiencing pleasure. Do I experience the same pleasure if I am isolated from the experience. Well no. If I am complicit, that is different. It is actively consensual between us. It is clear between us that our mutual joy is relevant.

My experience involves a complete stranger participating in my partner and I’s sexual play… perhaps his being a stranger allowed me to overcome any feelings of jealousy that arose. I can honestly say that at no point did I feel any emotional anxiety during the encounter, or for that matter since, indeed if anything the sexual activity between myself and my partner was enhanced considerably by it.

During the summer break from university, I found myself in the Greek islands backpacking, hopping from one island to another, sleeping in cheap accommodation or on the beach. About a week in I hooked up with a girl, Emma, who was on a gap year. We hit it off straight away as we were both at Manchester University although with 20,000 students and on different faculties, we hadn’t met before. This was in the early to mid eighties and the music scene in the city was electric and ecstasy had taken hold. We both went to the same clubs and enjoyed the same bands… it wasn’t long before things developed between us and our relationship took on a more intimate nature.

After about three weeks of simply enjoying each other and moving around the islands, partying late and sleeping even later, we found ourselves in a remote corner of Corfu. The south of the island is full of tourists during the summer, but in the north the island is much wilder and less spoiled. On this particular day we had been having lunch in a small beachside taverna, miles from anywhere. Only a handful of families enjoying the normal civilised family things that families do on beaches. The lingering lunch had taken it’s toll and a bottle of wine worse for wear we took to the beach. We found a secluded cove backed by dunes where we threw down our towels and snoozed of the boozy lunch. It was quite idyllic… distant sounds of children playing, waves gently lapping.  

We awoke a couple of hours later and the sun was now much lower in the sky. The families had all gone and we were alone. The setting sun was the perfect backdrop as we made our way down to the water, hand in hand. Emma had removed her bikini top and her nakedness was having its effect. The remoteness, the freedom. Without even thinking I pulled off my shorts and we ran into the waves, giggling at our boldness. It was like a cliche scene from a romantic movie. Young lovers making out in crashing waves as the sun goes down… or at least that’s how I remember it through the rose tinted retrospective spectacles! In truth, we were just as horny as fuck and it could have been a downtown parking lot for all we cared.

Long story short… we made our way back to our towels and dried ourselves off. Emma giggled as I shyly tried to conceal my erection. “Don’t be so silly! No one is here” she scolded me and snatched my towel away… I stood before her with my cock standing obscenely erect. I could see the gleam in her eye as she reached for me. I gasped as her hand grasped the shaft. My knees were trembling. Slowly she stroked me, firmly but slowly. Her eyes were fixed on my glistening cock head as she milked precum from me. She drew closer and delicately ran the tip of her tongue around the rim of my helmet. The sensations were like electricity. Without warning, she took me fully in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head, all the while staring me in the eyes. I reached down and ran my fingers through her wet hair. Her firm grip around my shaft, backwards and forwards. I slowly pulled away from her and lowered myself to the ground. As I lay on my back Emma untied her bikini bottom and moved towards me, straddling my waist, her glazed expression was a picture of pure erotic desire. I could feel the moist heat of her pussy on my tummy. My cock nestled between her ass cheeks. I reached for her breasts, feeling the delicious weight of them and tracing a finger around each nipple. The puckered skin of her areola reacting immediately, her nipples hardening. My fingers tracing the sensual contours. Slowly she began to shuffle up my body. I knew what she wanted. I wanted it too. Her swollen wet lips protruded from her close cropped hair… her arousal only too apparent. As she approached, a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. A man was approaching along the waters edge. I nudged Emma.. “There’s someone coming!” I made to move her off me but she ground down hard on my chest, clamping me to the sand. “I am NOT stopping now!” She hissed at me. Our arousal took over and I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me. I felt her hands grab my head by the hair and pull my face into her pussy. I was hers… and yet she was mine. I knew her needs. My tongue searched the length of her and found its goal. I pulled her lips apart and delicately ran the tip of my tongue across her clit… her whole body responded. Her trembling turned into an intense spasm as her body responded to this most intimate of stimuli. I slid my tongue inside her and drank from her copious juices. She pressed down hard on my face and I felt her hands pulling my hair. I was in heaven. My sole objective was to give pleasure… pure unbridled pleasure. She reached behind her and grabbed my erect cock, my precum flowing freely from my sheer arousal as I fucked her with my tongue. A deep yet feminine growl emanated from her. “I want you inside me” she moaned, and began to slide herself down my body. Her erect nipples grazing my chest. She reached between us and grasped me, guiding me to where she needed me. I could feel the engorged head of my cock parting her lips and she began her slow downward journey… delicately impaling herself. That beautiful moment when my head slipped through her inner lips. She held me there and slowly withdrew me and repeated it again. She knew how she wanted me. She pressed her hands on my chest and sat up… and glided down my shaft in one movement. I gasped with her as her pubis met mine. She bore down, desperate for me to be even more within her. Slowly she began to rise on her knees… her pussy gripping my shaft as she slid up it, and then violently hard back down. Her head thrown back, she fucked me… hard and fast, and then slow, so incredibly slow. Then it came… “He’s watching”. I froze, like a rabbit in headlights. Slowly I turned my head. He was about ten yards away. Emma looked down at me, our eyes met. No words were required. I raised my hips off the sand and penetrated her deeply. This must have been a signal of acceptance for him because he came closer, pulling down the front of his swimming shorts to reveal his erect cock. He was just a couple of paces away. Both Emma and I were transfixed. “FUCK ME” she demanded whilst simultaneously beckoning him with a reached out hand. We had found our rhythm as she met each thrust I gave, her heavy breasts rising and falling. He approached, wanking his cock strongly. Her reached out hand found it. Her fingers encircled his thick shaft and held him. She looked down deeply into my eyes. It felt almost like our souls were as one. No jealousy. Just pure unadulterated erotic lust. We were as one… anything else was just enhancement, purely intensifying our arousal more. We were taking each other… with someone along for the ride. It was clear he was close. I could see his balls start to contract. Her hand on his cock was doing its work as we violently fucked. I felt his foot touch my arm. He was imminent and wanted to share. A low animal groan came from him as he announced his arrival. The first white rope of cum hit Emma’s heaving breasts, its whiteness stark against her deep tan. The second jet came my way, spraying down over me. Thick globules of hot cum rained over my chest.. I looked up at her. All I could see was ecstasy. She was massaging her breasts with both hands, coating herself with this other man’s gift. I cannot put into words the effect this had on me. Our fucking intensified. Deep and hard. I could feel myself so very close. Her fingers appeared at my lips. I couldn’t last any longer. She forced her cum covered fingers into my mouth, feeding him to me. That was the trigger. She knew it. My whole being shuddered as  my cock swelled and the overwhelming pulsation began. Emma forced her entire weight down on me, her body pleading for all I could possibly deliver. I could feel her breasts touch my chest. The heat of her. The mixture of our endeavours intoxicating. Her body pressed on mine. Both our bodies heaving. Her breath on my neck as her slick body glided up me and I felt the weight of her head on my shoulder. I slowly opened my eyes. The stranger had vanished. Was he ever there? Only his taste on my lips told the true story.

The Submissive.


Image by Kate Mac (@my_sexual_discovery_2)

Over the past few months on my Instagram account, @ego_exploratio, I have found myself engaging increasingly with protagonists of BDSM as their chosen sexual preference. My personal experience of this vast spectrum of activity has been largely restricted to mild bondage play in the bedroom. Readers who have followed my blog from the beginning will know that I struggle with labels and sexuality… Well for me, this is a classic situation where a label has been applied whilst simultaneously being essentially meaningless. A bit like replying “North America” to someone asking where you are from. The term BDSM in my eyes is generic to the point of being rather ridiculous.

Quite unwittingly, I had participated in activities which would be attributed to this loose term, having been “used” by partners, both male and female, as a “toy” to be used for their satisfaction. I decided I wanted to explore much further into the various sub genres of BDSM because, clearly, I had a lot to learn.

One particular activity which I have encountered frequently is that of women assuming a submissive role and being “owned”, most commonly by a male (but not exclusively) and who is often referred to as “daddy”.

Ownership is a tricky one for me… it is counterintuitive to my whole ethos of how relationships are, but in the parlance of the bondage/discipline/dominance area of the BDSM world it is a common term which is used during play to symbolise the submissive/dominant roles. The “daddy” term really grated on me, that is until I sought advice from a close psychologist friend who set me straight. The use of “daddy” is to symbolise the father figure, as in looking after, caring for, teacher, confidant, protector and one who can be relied upon. Although there is usually a sexual component in the relationship, it does not promote incest or paedophilia in any way. Outside of the play setting, this can easily be misinterpreted if not represented within it’s true context.

So ‘is BDSM a turn on for me?’ Well there are aspects which I find intensely arousing but equally there are others which leave me cold, particularly where there is implied cruelty and disrespect.

Personally I adore the concept of femme dom but in a more nuanced role… as in the woman to be in control whether they are being submissive OR dominant. I am serving their need. I love the power dimension of the submissive role.

Whilst exploring this whole new world, I met a woman who, like me, is a born explorer and sees herself on a voyage of discovery when it comes to her sexuality. We shared many thoughts and fantasies and during one of our conversations I asked her if she would write a short piece for me to include in my blog. She has a deep fascination with the submissive role which extends to her attending Kinbaku classes and which she employs in her photographic work. I am so very grateful that she agreed and below is the fantasy piece that she wrote.


“Welcome Home”

You just arrive home. You set your briefcase down. Remove and hang your coat. Slip off your shoes. Then you turn to me. Deep and seriously you say to me “get your fucking clothes off.” I don’t move. I’m feeling defiant. You grab me and push me up against a wall, pressing your body into mine. You slide your hand to my throat and squeeze it closed. Forcing my legs apart with your knee. In a low growl in my ear you say to me “I said, get your fucking clothes off now. If I have to say it again I will hurt you.” You kiss me hard and deep. Then you remove your hand from my throat and step back. I’m shaking and getting wet with eager anticipation. I start undressing. You say to me “Good girl. That’s much better.” I pull my dress down. Undo my bra. Slide my wet panties down. You are standing there. Your shirt removed. You are wearing dark grey dress pants that are now unbelted and unzipped. You remembered how much I love that. I see you preparing your rope. Before we get started, you walk up to me, push my wet panties into my mouth and demand that I lick them. Then you shove them the rest of the way into my mouth, effectively gagging me. You force me to turn around and you bind my arms crossed behind my back. You get to work securing my arms and binding my breasts. I am completely bound and helpless. You remove my panties from my mouth telling me “There are no safe words today little girl. You are mine and I am going to do with you as I please.” You kiss me deeply again and then put a ball gag in my mouth. “I want to watch you drool all over yourself like a good little slut. My little slut. You belong to me.” You bend me over our kitchen table. My pussy is swollen and soaked and completely exposed. “Spread your legs… Spread. Your. Fucking. Legs”, as you kick my feet out. You secure my ankles tightly to the legs of the table. You push my face down onto the surface of the wood as you start to caress and feel me. All of me. I’m so warm and wet and eager. Then you take your fingers and wipe them across my face. “Smell yourself you whore.” You pull down your pants. You then slip the tip of your cock into me. Then pull it out and rub my clit with it. “Do not dare cum until I give you permission. If you disobey me, you will be severely punished.” You thrust deep and hard into me. Forcefully, violently, with the intention of hurting me. You grab me by my hair and give good hard, deep thrusts. You pull out, “That’s all you get for now.” You start slapping me over my ass. You don’t stop until tears are sliding down my cheeks. Smeared mascara. Ass red and bruising. You have marked me. I won’t soon forget. You start fucking me once more, taking what you want and how you want it. I am screaming but cannot manage any words. You wouldn’t give a damn even if I could. When you’ve had enough of my cunt, you pull out and slide into my ass. So tight. I’m gripping your hard cock. The unexpected shock I feel is causing me to grip you even harder. “Relax your asshole. It’s mine and I’m going to fuck it.” You fuck me hard. Unforgiving. You cum inside of me. Then you start massaging my clit. Fast and hard. “Now that I’m completely satisfied, you may cum. And you will cum. You will do as you are told.” I cum hard. Soaking your hand. You rub it off on my face again. Your cum is starting to drip out of me. Mixing with my own. You go to shower and clean up, leaving me where I am. Only once you are finished do you unbind me and allow me to clean up. You kiss me hard. Deeply. Passionately. I shower and clean up. We spend the rest of the night cuddling and watching T.V. Just like any normal couple. But we are so so much more.

By Kate Mac (@my_sexual_discovery_2) 

This scenario is incredibly widespread in erotic writing and imagery… it takes on an almost cliche status such is the frequency of it appearing in women’s fantasies. It is clearly a highly erotic story and forms a backdrop for so many of Kate’s fantasies. 

I struggle with aspects of it. I could never threaten hurt. The phrase she uses “Forcefully, violently, with the intention of hurting me” leaves me cold.

 I know there is an implied consent to the scenario of course… and it is clearly highly erotic and may be a common female fantasy, but it isn’t a fantasy of mine to ‘take’ a woman violently with any intention to hurt.

Overall, I find the story deeply arousing and provocative, asking me profound questions about my innermost desires and fantasies. That has to be what erotic writing is about, not simply to sexually arouse, but to make the reader re-assess their personal status quo…. Kate manages this perfectly I think. I cannot thank her enough for having written it for me.

The Sauna.

8C64AFB0-9D43-4228-A0AE-5BE37920FDD3Apologies for my digressing from my journal. I was distracted by a friend who had asked me to write that last post as a guest in her blog. Business can now resume as usual!

Following my encounters during my summer vacation, I returned to university and continued my studies. The liaisons I had experienced with Patrick and Margaret were still incredibly raw in my mind. Deep feelings of guilt and shame surged through my mind yet my cravings for more were overwhelming. My masturbation always had a backdrop of the events of the summer. I needed more.

Looking back, I see this period in my life and my sexual encounters as quite fundamental to where I am now and how I feel about my sexual identity. At the time, of course, I had no awareness of this. I was on a debauched rollercoaster of hedonism and sought only the intense thrill of the moment, in a similar way to how I imagine a heroine addict simply exists between hits.

Some schools of thought believe that subconsciously our psyche seeks enlightenment and learning is always an objective in all of the choices we make… It certainly didn’t feel that way to me at the time. I was a thrill seeker.

I found myself participating in activities which I feel uncomfortable in relating. The hanging around secluded public toilets late at night desperately seeking release in whatever from it took. I was becoming really quite uninhibited. It became completely normal for me to indulge in this behaviour.

In Britain at that time, homosexual activity was driven underground and it was through encounters such as these that men could achieve any form of sexual excitement. This was a time when gangs used to prowl the streets “queer bashing”.

One safe activity was to hang out in one of the saunas that exist in towns throughout the country and have always been associated with clandestine sexual encounters between consenting adults.

I had become bolder from my secretive frequenting of cottages, but the first time I went to a sauna I was filled with an excitement that I hadn’t felt since Patrick.

I had found the sauna on a small backstreet near the centre of town and had decided to go during the day when I thought it might be quieter. These places are usually rather dingy in appearance and this one was no different. Peeling paint and flickering neon. This was certainly no health spa!

I pushed open the door and entered the foyer. A woman stood behind a counter and greeted me cheerfully, asking me if I required a masseuse or if I wanted just the sauna. As a student, cash was in short supply, and so I politely asked for the sauna. I handed the money over and in return she handed me a robe and a towel. “That way for the changing rooms, and the sauna is through the door on the other side” she informed me.

I made my way into the changing rooms, piped music playing softly some light classical piece. I found a locker and began to undress. I had been hard from the moment I had left home, and my arousal had left my underwear damp. I looked around and saw that three other lockers were being used and realised that it must be quiet.

I hung my clothes in the locker and put on the robe, my erect cock obscenely bulging it at the front, and made my way through into the steam room. The heat hit me like a wall and through the fog of the steam I could see that there were benches around the perimeter and in a corner were the hot stones with a bucket of water and a ladle.

There were two middle aged men sitting beside each other and another slightly younger guy sitting alone. The two together were chatting, but stopped as I entered the room. The silence lasted just a coupe of seconds but felt an eternity. I could see pure hunger in their eyes as I crossed the room to the bench on the opposite side to them. I sat down and leaned back, closing my eyes and adjusting myself to the heat. Through partially opened eyes I could see the two who were chatting openly fondling themselves beneath their robes. I felt myself stiffen. I glanced to my left and the guy on his own had his robe opened and was stroking a quite beautiful thick cock. Slow gentle but firm strokes. I was transfixed. I reached down and felt myself through my robe as I gazed at his hand rise and fall along the length of his shaft. It was a wonderful beast of a cock. A huge swollen head oozed precum which slowly ran down to his fingers. As I watched he gathered some up and brought it to his lips and licked. My mouth was dry as I watched his deliberate seduction of me.

Across the room, the two others had by now began to explore each other as they also watched on. I edged along the bench and came alongside the man on his own. His fingers were wrapped around his cock again and with his other hand he reached over and stroked my leg. I shivered with the pent up excitement at his touch. He ran his hand higher up my thigh and slipped it inside the robe. I closed my eyes and threw back my head in sheer delight as he found his goal. I heard him gasp as his hand encircled my hardness. I reached over to him and ran a finger around the engorged helmet of his cock. The sticky precum was free flowing from him now in a beautiful sticky stream. I brought my finger to my mouth and sucked on it suggestively as he watched. Not a word had been exchanged. No words were needed. We were being driven by an overwhelming desire.

I felt him rise to his feet and step in front of me and I reached for the glorious manhood standing proud. I gripped the shaft firmly, my fingers only just managing to meet around it. I drew closer and examined it as I slowly wanked the precum from him. Delicately I ran my tongue around the rim of the inflamed helmet. It was his turn to shudder. “Yesssss” he hissed as I began to devour him, his cock head virtually filling my mouth. I felt a hand press the back of my head and I looked up. The other two men had come over and joined us and it was one of them that was pushing my head down on the gorgeous cock. “Good boy” he told me “Suck him good”. I didn’t need to be told. I gazed up into his eyes as I worked his shaft with one hand as I sucked. The other two were now furiously stroking their cocks. I reached up with my free hand and began to wank the nearest one, pulling it nearer to my mouth. I released the cock from my mouth and it was immediately replaced by another. The precum was running down my chin as I ravenously took as much of his length as I could. The other man had dropped to his knees and was between my legs. He parted my thighs and grasped my cock with one hand. I heard the first man speak, “We’ve got a serious cumslut here” and the other “MMMMM” in reply. They were right, but I knew it was really me that was in control. They were like putty in my hands. I knew I could make them explode in the blink of an eye… or stop in the same instant, depriving them of their conquest.

I was alternating between the two cocks before me. Feeling their impending climaxes before swapping to the other. Edging them repeatedly. Precum and saliva poured from me as I increased the pace. The third was now fingering me as he worked on my cock. This was a new experience and I wanted more. I felt a finger probe deep. I groaned around the cock in my mouth as I felt the violating finger press against my prostate.

Without warning, I felt a hot jet of cum hit the side of my face, then another as the second man unloaded. I could feel the cock in my mouth respond, as it began to swell and the shaft throb. I knew he was imminent and sure enough my mouth was engulfed by hot salty cum. This in turn triggered a violent response in me. I could feel my approaching orgasm as man three quickened his hand on my cock and penetrated me deeper. I was shaking uncontrollably when it hit me. I released the spent cock from my mouth and moaned as the hot cum erupted from me, hitting man three full on the chest. He dived down and took me in his mouth, milking me dry. Cum dripped from my face as the two on their feet squeezed their last drops. I slumped back on the bench… my desires satisfied, but short lived as the guilt took hold.     

The Three Of Us.

51DB90FE-A74A-4346-AE38-31BBABFDE934Image by @tastyartgurl

At this current point in my journey of erotic discovery, the pinnacle of sexual gratification is found in the exhilaration of giving complete satisfaction to a man and a woman together. The sheer sense of control is immense. Of course they both have to be receptive to the experience… but when that happens the electricity is mind changing.

Currently I am involved in a lovely, evolving relationship with an older middle aged gent and his wife. I have been seeing him occasionally for man on man fun but recently he introduced the whole idea of his wife seeing him with another man. She had been highly aroused during their lovemaking when he took from her the dildo she was toying herself with as she sucked him, and brought it to his mouth. She erupted in what she described as the most delicious orgasm she had ever experienced as she plunged her fingers into her wet pussy.

Over several days he had introduced the idea to her that maybe a real cock might be even better. She knew that he had explored with other men years ago, and so it came as nothing devastating to her when he suggested it.

Their lovemaking had reached intense heights as they explored their fantasy…

Mike told me of what was going on with his wife during a steamy session involving me wearing a matching set of lingerie which had become a big part of our meetings. This aroused me hugely simply because I knew it sent Mike wild. I suggested that maybe we could “arrange” for her to catch us…. That is how it began.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and I was in Mike’s lounge parading for him in the silk and lace lingerie as he sat naked on the sofa, stroking his erect cock. It was a Saturday afternoon and Sue, his wife, was out clothes shopping as was her norm. She would always meet up with her friends for a few drinks afterwards and when she returned she would model her purchases for Mike. This inevitably ended in the bedroom. How little she knew today.

I was on my knees between Mike’s legs when we both heard the door, his cock deep in my throat. I felt Mike jump. His anxiety getting the better of him. I grasped the shaft of his cock firmly and held him in my mouth. The sound of her heels on the tiled floor came closer. “Mike! I’m home…”  she announced. “Where are…”. Her question unfinished. She stood in the lounge doorway. Her eyes wide in sheer disbelief at what they were seeing. “What the fuck is going on?” She said, stepping further into the room. “Don’t even bother telling me its not what I think you fucking bastard” she shouted, visibly shaking. Mike held his nerve, and as I let his cock slip from my mouth he roughly pulled my head back down. He stared across the room at her. “This is what you want…” he told her. “…You know it. I know it”.

I raised my head from Mike and turned to look at Sue, a string of saliva mixed with precum stretched from my lips to the glorious shiny cock head. I said nothing. Just stared. Mikes hand still rested on my head. I could see Sue visibly relax as she sat down on the sofa. I turned to face Mike again, gathering the sticky string in my fingers and devouring. My hand still gripped his obscene hardness and I plunged him back where it belonged. Mike groaned loudly as I milked his cock for more nectar. All this time Mike had been fingering my tight hole as I worked on him, occasionally gathering precum from my free flowing cock and lubing his finger.

In the corner of my eye I could see Sue. She was watching intently at the display before her. A hand had strayed between the buttons of her blouse and she was plainly enjoying the spectacle. “Stand up” Mike instructed me. I gradually raised to my feet, fully aware of how I must look in the black lace and silk lingerie. My cock was luridly hard in front of me, the panties unable to contain my arousal. Mike reached for me. He ran a finger around the crown and scooped up precum. He brought it to his lips and hungrily licked the salty sticky fluid, all the time staring into his wife’s eyes. I heard her gasp, and looked over to her. Her skirt was pulled high up her thighs and she had a hand inside her panties. Her silky smooth legs spread wide. She had a glazed look across her eyes. That look which signals that the point of no return. 

Mike dropped slowly to his knees and reached my hardness. Sue was hypnotised by what she was witnessing. He gradually brought my cock to his mouth, all the time his eyes were locked on Sue’s. Mike was gripping my shaft firmly as he sucked. His lips tightly around my sticky cock. Devouring me. I looked down and Mikes cock was fully erect and dripping. Sue saw me look. “Bring him to me” she told me. I reached down and held his rigid manhood, Mike stood up and I led him to his waiting wife.

As we drew closer she barked at me, “On your knees bitch!” I did as she said. “Now go to work” she growled and grabbed me by the hair and roughly pulling me to her pussy. I was in heaven. My fingers held her panties aside as my mouth found her. My tongue parting her swollen lips and pushing deeper. Her taste was intoxicating. She was wonderfully wet and wouldn’t need much work from me  to prepare her for Mikes angry cock. I looked over her stomach and Mike was up to the hilt in Sue’s mouth as she deepthroated him… saliva and precum dripping from her chin. Sue’s hand gripped my head hard as she ground my face against her glorious wetness.

I felt Mike’s hand on my shoulder, he urged me aside. The time had come. “Put him in me” she hissed at me. I came beside her as Mike replaced me between her thighs. I reached for his cock and began wanking him firmly, all the time drawing him closer to Sue’s hotness.

I leaned across her tummy and parted her lips, my tongue probing for her clit. I pulled Mike’s cock closer until his swollen head was at her entrance, just touching her engorged lips as I delicately nibbled her. I gradually slid him inside her, but not before I had gently slid his cock up and down the length of her pussy. I felt him enter her inner lips and heard Sue’s breathing become heavier. She had unfastened her blouse and pulled her bra aside exposing her heavy breasts. She was rolling each nipple hard between her fingers, her head thrown back. Suddenly I felt Mike plunge his cock deep inside her, Sue’s legs wrapping around his waist pulling him deeper. My face was inches away and I was in a trance. I lived for these moments. Mike thrust  hard four or five times and then slowly withdrew his heavily coated cock. I pounced. Pure erotic lust took over as I swallowed him and he began fucking my face. My hand grasping my own cock matching his rhythm as he ravaged my mouth, precum pouring from me through the intensity of my arousal. Sue ferociously fingered her clit in the absence of Mikes cock and my tongue. I took hold of his cock again and began forcing him back inside her, this time keeping my tongue at the swollen  red protrusion, frantically replicating the actions of her fingers. I loved the control I knew I had. I reached around Mike’s thigh and held his balls. This way I knew when he was ready. I could time his climax to meet Sue’s. That was so much harder to predict but I was confident there would be no pretence… we were all in that deep state of arousal where games are irrelevant. No hiding.

I could sense that Sue’s time was rapidly approaching as she clamped Mike harder with each thrust and her hands clawing at my head. I could hear her muttering, barely comprehensible. I teased Mike’s hole with a finger as I clutched his tightening balls. He groaned a deep growl and his pace quickened. Like a wild animal he fucked. I could feel Sue begin her climax, her whole body began to convulse uncontrollably, her breasts heaving violently as he approached his own. I felt Mikes balls tighten and his thrusts become impossibly more purposeful. He arched his back and with a final drive home I felt the base of his shaft begin to swell pump his seed deep inside her. Sue was shaking violently as she felt his cock deliver the precious load. I patiently waited… my reward would come soon. I felt the delicious ooze on my tongue from where his cock was still deep within. As Sue’s shaking subsided Mike slowly began to slide from her, my tongue running along its length as it emerged. His thick cum mixed with her taste coated him. As his head appeared I pushed forward and filled my mouth with his still swollen helmet. His cock lurched involuntarily as I deeply sucked his sensitised manhood. I ran my fingers the length of Sue’s pussy and scooped the cum from her, bringing them to my hungry mouth as I cleaned Mike’s cock… My time had arrived. I stroked the length of my cock, feeling that unstoppable moment getting closer….

My First Reflection.

To newcomers I extend a grateful thank you for taking the trouble to find me. To properly understand what my blog is about then I would recommend reading the earlier posts by scrolling down. Please enjoy! 

The Touch Of Another series of blog posts has been made up of my recollection of events that took place when I was 18 maybe 19 years of age. I see them now, more years later than I care to disclose, as the most important influential experiences in my sexual life. Maybe beyond the sexual. At that age I was a blank canvas. Of course there was the peer pressures that we all live with at those tender ages, but my sense of curiosity was not tainted by years of social conditioning to conform to an “acceptable” template.

That very first encounter with another man was completely fundamental in my developing an nonjudgmental attitude towards sexuality, not just my own but to others as well. At first that was obviously not the case… I was infested with guilt. At that age I even felt self loathing after masturbating never mind the whole minefield of having sexual relationships without there being “love”, and with another man? That was off the scale in the family I was brought up in. I was the only pupil in my school class who was excused from ‘sex education’ at the insistence of my parents, and with no regard for the impact that had amongst my peers.

Several years passed before my sexual identity began to crystallise. I use that term intentionally because just as crystals form, my exploration developed in clusters, dependent upon one simple factor. My arousal. To me, arousal is the most intoxicating sensation I have ever experienced. We are talking sexual arousal here and not a neuroscientist’s textbook interpretation. For them arousal is neurons firing off neurotransmitters and an increase in cortical activity resulting in alertness… any form of alertness, not necessarily just sexual arousal. Whilst this clearly is the case physiologically, it means very little at all in our day to day lives…. The direction of my exploration was dictated by what aroused me

My sexual arousal is a state which is utterly all consuming. Once triggered, my mind is not my own. Patrick knew that when he was grooming me in the rest room of our workplace. He had set me traps. My blushes and shyness were the clues he needed, and pounced as any predator does. Once snared I was putty in his hands. But what he didn’t know was that once I had been liberated from my initial trepidation I would become hugely empowered by my abilities to give pleasure. Where Patrick craved the end game, I was enthralled by the foreplay, the buildup.   

Margaret understood me. For her it was about her arousal as well. That was why she wanted to see me with Patrick. She craved the heroin like ecstasy of her heightened alertness. That is how it feels for me. That different plain you find yourself on when you are totally in tune with your arousal. Like a hunter I suppose… the joy is in the excitement of the hunt and not the pulling of the trigger. That’s all over in an instant. To me the state of arousal is the hunt and where I derive most pleasure, far more pleasure than through orgasm alone.

The look Patrick had in his eyes when he had first got to grips with me. Pure hunger and lust. At that point I knew I had control. Of course Patrick knew he had found his prey but for me I knew he was cock-struck… I had what he wanted. Likewise with Margaret. I knew as I watched her fingering her pussy that it was through my actions which had brought her to that state. 

Then there was the physical aspect of it all. The tastes. The sensations that I was inducing and also receiving. The intimacy which I had been brought up to believe only came through a heterosexual monogamous relationship. There had been nothing remotely like it before in my young state.

At that time, my pleasure was overshadowed by a deep sense of guilt. I knew that it felt wonderful, but the pain of the guilt was dreadful… but neurotransmitters had done their job, I was addicted. With the guilt came an excitement. Overlaying the guilt was a sense of  breaking the rules, being bad, deviant… different. Unbeknown to my parents, they’re own behaviour towards sexuality had a fundamental role in the feelings I had.   An entirely new aspect of who I am was emerging.