Share our Shit Saturday: Eroticon special!

This post is several weeks overdue. But I’ve been travelling, and up to now I haven’t really had any time to write anything about Eroticon. 

Also, it was kind of overwhelming, not only because I was presenting one session, but because there was just so much happening and so many lovely warm people to meet. It takes me a while to incorporate new experience. Usually about five years, but I can see that I’ll have to be a bit more timely for Eroticon 2019.

Also, bits of it went in a blur, because I was getting ready for, or recovering from, my session, and there are meetings I must have had that I don’t remember. For example, I wanted to meet LittleSwitchBitch, and I find it hard to believe that I missed that, but the fact is that if I did I managed to lose the memory of it. So I’m just going to have to plead strung-out-ness, for managing not to get that meeting, or for blurring it in my mind. 

I really am sorry! 

Anyway, I want to highlight some people I know I met, and some people I know I must have, or else I’m an idiot for failing to rush across the room and say, “Hi!”

So… on that basis, my Share our shit Saturday, Eroticon edition, looks like this: 


Here’s the eminently civilised Molly, unleashing her inner wildness: 


Here’s the unspeakably sexy Girl on the Net writing about a topic I’ve long been interested in: how do we kinky people know, when we meet another kinky person? Mostly we’re keeping it out of sight, so what are the signs we recognise?

How did you know I was kinky?

And sub-bee, writing about good times of day to have sex:

Asleep on the job

And Marie Rebelle, on practical bedroom arrangements:


I was always going to include a picture of LittleSwitchBitch’s ass, because we should make the world as good as we can: 

Crave – SinfulSunday/FebPhotoFest


And Bibulous One, a thoughtful chap, writes here about what we know of other people’s orgasms:


And that will have to do, for today. But check these out!

Wicked Wednesday: Actually, that’s what the dog whip is for

Maddie struggles in bondage on Will’s living room floor.

She inadvertently reveals that the implement of his she most fears is the thin, single-tailed dogwhip. She works hard to make sure she doesn’t deserve that.

It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.

Masturbation Monday: Offering her neck

Chetana reached between Philip and Jayavardhini and took Jayavardhini’s nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

She exerted pressure then, pulled her nipples and twisted them slightly. Jayavardhini gasped again. “Yes. Yes!” She was surprised by how high and needy her own voice sounded. She spread her thighs wide and lifted them to allow him easy access as his cock inched forward, very slowly, their intimate skin sliding together, infinitely sensitive as his cock delved.

At last he’d filled her, their pelvic bones touching. Jayavardhini was moved by him, and surprised at how moved she felt. She said, “Oh fuck.”

He kissed her, their bodies pressed together as closely as they could. He smiled. “Oh fuck, indeed.” He started his slow withdrawal, moving back as excruciatingly slowly as he’d entered her. When she was worried that he might slip out he pressed forward again. Still slowly. Time had almost stopped.

Chetana pinched Jayavardhini’s nipples hard and she moaned. Philip seemed to take it as a signal to increase the pace slightly, though his cock still moved in her slowly,  unhurried still.

Jayavardhini hifted her feet from the bed, pointing her toes at the ceiling. Chetana kissed her again, then Philip lowered his head and kissed Jayadhini, too, then both of them. He slid his hands under Jayavardhini’s ass and held her firmly to him.

They sped up again, their fucking no longer slow, with more of need in their movements. Jayavardhini turned her head away, offering her neck. He bit her, then kissed. She made a noise of comfort and encouragement, and they sped up again.

Chetana held them both in her arms, as the tidal wave took Jayavardhini. It was so strong, in a way frightening, with so far to fall. She moaned when the pleasure burst, carried her and filled her.

Philip growled into her ear while she made her orgasm noises. But he said, “Good girl. My good girl.” He dropped his head again, his mouth beside her ear, and he encouraged her, still fucking, not stopping, until she came a second time, more quietly a minute later. Philip made a animal noise with Jayavardhini’s second orgasm, and held her in place while he fucked her fast and ruthless, until he came in her, gasping for more air, about a minute later.

They collapsed. Eventually Chetana said, “Darlings…”

“Oh! Sorry.” Philip still held Jayavardhini tight, and he rolled onto his side and off Chetana, who took a deep, relieved breath. Philip completed his roll, finishing on his back with Jayavardhini on him, the two of them still connected, and the three of them embraced.

Sinful Sunday: Grapes!


They’ve been a symbol of plenty, of things being happy and joyous and in profusion, throughout the art of so many cultures, for millennia.

Sometimes, as in the Graeco-Roman myth of the Cornocopia, the Horn of Plenty, they are associated with pink, conch-like tubal structures, from the hollows of which all manner off good things flow.

These grapes make me happy.


My model and collaborator is the lovely Zoe, on loan from the vast wilderness of Canada. Her choice of image, from the same session, is here. Warning: legs!



What I find particularly lovely, and particularly Indian, about this work of art, one of hundreds on the walls on the temples at Khajuraho, is the expression of happiness and pleasure on the elephant’s face. He just happened to find these two people, a woman and a priest of Shiva, I think, taking pleasure with each other. Their happiness made him happy too. 

Dante talked of the love that moved the stars and the worlds in their orbit. But I always found that thin and inadequate because he meant “divine” love, or humans wasting love on an imaginary and rather nasty entity. 

In this Indian world-view, love is between living things, where it belongs, and it unites all species and all people and all the world. 

Dawn breaks over the Ganges.

(I got up at 5.30AM to get this photo, which is not my favourite time of day, but I’m so very, very glad I did it. It was magical.)

It got even more magical a few seconds later, when the dawn was greeted with bells and chanting from this side of the river. It was other-worldly, an utterly different world. 

I can’t pretend I didn’t notice that Indian women are beautiful. I didn’t take many pictures because of consent issues, but I asked these girls if I could, since they were sharing my Ganges boat with me. 

They’re just women, I know. Not supermodels. But they affected me enough that when I took this photo I paid them a gauche compliment (“this is the most beautiful photo I’ve taken in India”) and then felt stupid immediately after. So they were good-looking enough enough to make me feel like an idiot of about 18, all over again. 

India! Yes, I’m going back.

Wicked Wednesday: Stay the night

Maddie is in Will’s office, seeking permissions for things like orgasms. But she invites herself to Will’s house to stay the night. She leaves her knickers on his office floor, in case he forgets certain important things about the two of them.

It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.

Masturbation Monday: Slow and fat-cocked, taking his time

Philip said, “Good girls, both of you. Jayavardhini, I want you to roll over, onto your back, please. And Chetana, I think she’d like to be kissed a lot, by you, while I fuck her.”

Jayavardhini turned, making sure she was still partly lying on Chetana, her head resting between her breasts, and her thighs held by Chetana’s.

She said, “This is true. I don’t seem to have any limit, for being kissed.”

Philip rolled out from under Chetana’s legs. He supported himself on hands and knees about Jayavardhini, cock pointing at her cunt. Jayavardhini reached down and squeezed it in her hand. “That’s a very sincere cock.”

Philip gasped when she touched him, then smiled at her. “Sincere and single minded. You need fucking, by me. Right now. Chetana, while I fuck her, I think she’d like you to stroke her tits, and sometimes to pinch her nipples. A lot harder than you usually do.”

Jayavardhini leaned forward and kissed his cock, taking it inturned her head to kiss the inner slope of Chetana’s left breast. “This is true, too.”

Philip placed his knees between Jayavardhini’s thighs. She felt his cock pressing at her cunt, though he didn’t push forward.

His arms, holding him above her and Chetana, shook slightly as he held himself back. His face was utterly serious, utterly focussed. He lowered his head and kissed her, and when she responded hungrily he pressed forward just a little. She was ready for him. She had been since she started to pleasure Chetana and, since he’d held her over his lap, he was in a position to know that.

Chetana leaned forward and joined their kiss. Their eyes met, each of them amused by the other two and delighted to be together.

Chetana said, “Jayavardhini, you be nice to my man. Philip, you be nice to my girlfriend. Starting, oh, now, I think.”

Philip said nothing. But he pressed forward, entering slowly, sensually, while Jayavardhini’s cunt welcomed him.

She gasped, and put her hands on his shoulders. She savoured his entry, slow and fat-cocked, taking his time. Taking her time. She kissed his neck. 


Sinful Sunday: A benign Indian universe

This is a very famous image, and I’m not the first to photograph it. But this is ˆmy ˆphoto. 

It’s from the walls of a temple in Khajuraho in Madhya Pradesh, India. It was not, at the time, inappropriate to have such joyous, benign, sexual images as part of a temple. 

(The official version of Hinduism now prevalent is more sexually conservative. This is a trace of a nearly vanished past.)

Three things strike me about these. The first is the artistry. There are hundreds and hundreds of these sexual images on these temple walls, showing different positions, and each gives attention to the sinuous eroticism of the flesh, and to make sure the humanity and the affection of the various sexual groupings are apparent to the viewer. 

Second, this is a very benign, pro-love, humane universe, as depicted on these temple walls. We’re not used to finding that in religion.

The third is related to that benign worldview: a kind of human humour. The man on the left and the woman at the right of the lovers are not lovers themselves, it seems. But they are inspired by the sexuality of the scene they’re witnessing. Both the man and the woman are masturbating. Everybody is taking pleasure, as they can.