Happy New Year!!!!
Happy New Year!
Gotta run, The Bloke Indoors is picking me up in an hour and I have yet to solve the problem of a tight dress and visible underwear.
Fill you in soon.
Enjoy your night!
Gotta run, The Bloke Indoors is picking me up in an hour and I have yet to solve the problem of a tight dress and visible underwear.
Fill you in soon.
Enjoy your night!
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Friday, December 29, 2006
The things you notice...
Can you spot someone with a fetish if they don’t openly show it? I think I may have today.
Picked up some bargains in the sales today – beware of the shoppers, they are deadly! Anyway, on the bus on the way home I was sitting opposite your stereotypical ‘man with a sexy* little secret’ and I really think he might just have one.
Now stereotypes are rubbish because they’re never right, but it was one of those things; the more I thought about it, the more this guy fit that stereotype. He was a middle-aged, slightly balding businessman, combined with the gold-rimmed glasses and the unkept moustache; he just fit the bill.
Now the fetish part? Well, while sitting through the wickedly long journey (no, not wicked in a good way) the guy decided to catch up on some work: out comes a large ring binder – covered in rubber bands holding various pieces of paper to the front and inside covers, plus two holding the whole thing together. Nothing really strange I suppose, until he took off the two bands holding the folder in place. Nope, nothing on the inside that surprised me, it was what he did; he wound the bands around his fingers and began to caress them with his thumb. A little while later, he wound them round again to tighten them and carried on with his stroking – rubber anyone?
Maybe I was letting my mind wander, I was definitely paying too much attention to him instead of my book (The Shining – not enjoying it), but the thought of this man, having his little helping of fetish (if he actually was) on the bus amused me quite a bit.
*Instead of dirty, because that’s just not right.
Picked up some bargains in the sales today – beware of the shoppers, they are deadly! Anyway, on the bus on the way home I was sitting opposite your stereotypical ‘man with a sexy* little secret’ and I really think he might just have one.
Now stereotypes are rubbish because they’re never right, but it was one of those things; the more I thought about it, the more this guy fit that stereotype. He was a middle-aged, slightly balding businessman, combined with the gold-rimmed glasses and the unkept moustache; he just fit the bill.
Now the fetish part? Well, while sitting through the wickedly long journey (no, not wicked in a good way) the guy decided to catch up on some work: out comes a large ring binder – covered in rubber bands holding various pieces of paper to the front and inside covers, plus two holding the whole thing together. Nothing really strange I suppose, until he took off the two bands holding the folder in place. Nope, nothing on the inside that surprised me, it was what he did; he wound the bands around his fingers and began to caress them with his thumb. A little while later, he wound them round again to tighten them and carried on with his stroking – rubber anyone?
Maybe I was letting my mind wander, I was definitely paying too much attention to him instead of my book (The Shining – not enjoying it), but the thought of this man, having his little helping of fetish (if he actually was) on the bus amused me quite a bit.
*Instead of dirty, because that’s just not right.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Festivities
Christmas. A time for loving, sharing and, unfortunately, no nookie. The Bloke Indoors and I both have demanding families; demanding in that they demand our presence on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day. So instead of being together when loved ones are supposed to be, we get stuck with parents, grandparents, auntie/uncle types and siblings. So NOT the Christmas we want.
The answer we usually come up with (and did again this year) is to give our presents a few days earlier, grab some mistletoe, have some kisses and cuddles and basically do the Christmas thing together before everyone else (ahead of the fashion – that’s us). It is quite a nice thing to do; romantic, private and no need to worry about opening something you shouldn’t in front of Grandma!
Saying that, I was under strict orders from Katy that the gifts she bought were to be opened either with The Bloke or out of sight of anyone disapproving i.e. my entire family. It was decided that I would open them alone because the early Christmas was just about us. So at about half 1 on Christmas day after all the presents were opened downstairs I snuck upstairs with the preface of trying on the clothes I had been bought. There were three gifts from Katy in a range of sizes – none (you dirty minded people) were shaped remotely rabbit-like. So, reindeer antlers on head, I sat cross-legged on my bed and ripped savagely at the glittering paper that enclosed some secret (forbidden) prizes.
Well, I’ll give you credit, you might not have been too far off with the rabbit guess, after all the instructions did include opening with The Bloke didn’t they? The first (and smallest. Because smallest = best or because I’m building up? Who knows) was some delicious chocolate body dust that we had been sighing over in Ann Summers just a couple of weeks ago. You have to smell it to understand just how good it is, plus the dusting thing is divine. The biggest (what about the medium? I’m all out of sync), was a pack of ravish candles, massage creams and oils. The creams smell unbelievable – chocolate, strawberry and caramel. By now I’m pretty sure my good ol’ mate is on an Ann Summers mission, so I’m fully expecting something else from the range, but I was never so happy with a gift from my friend as I was when I opened the last one:
Two, big, black feather fans.
I love them. I wanted them. I convinced myself I needed them. Now I have them!
Katy you really are a star.
Oh and another thing you horrible, horrible lot out there…I make you a lovely card and not one of you wishes me a Merry Christmas…. I’ll remember that!
The answer we usually come up with (and did again this year) is to give our presents a few days earlier, grab some mistletoe, have some kisses and cuddles and basically do the Christmas thing together before everyone else (ahead of the fashion – that’s us). It is quite a nice thing to do; romantic, private and no need to worry about opening something you shouldn’t in front of Grandma!
Saying that, I was under strict orders from Katy that the gifts she bought were to be opened either with The Bloke or out of sight of anyone disapproving i.e. my entire family. It was decided that I would open them alone because the early Christmas was just about us. So at about half 1 on Christmas day after all the presents were opened downstairs I snuck upstairs with the preface of trying on the clothes I had been bought. There were three gifts from Katy in a range of sizes – none (you dirty minded people) were shaped remotely rabbit-like. So, reindeer antlers on head, I sat cross-legged on my bed and ripped savagely at the glittering paper that enclosed some secret (forbidden) prizes.
Well, I’ll give you credit, you might not have been too far off with the rabbit guess, after all the instructions did include opening with The Bloke didn’t they? The first (and smallest. Because smallest = best or because I’m building up? Who knows) was some delicious chocolate body dust that we had been sighing over in Ann Summers just a couple of weeks ago. You have to smell it to understand just how good it is, plus the dusting thing is divine. The biggest (what about the medium? I’m all out of sync), was a pack of ravish candles, massage creams and oils. The creams smell unbelievable – chocolate, strawberry and caramel. By now I’m pretty sure my good ol’ mate is on an Ann Summers mission, so I’m fully expecting something else from the range, but I was never so happy with a gift from my friend as I was when I opened the last one:
Two, big, black feather fans.
I love them. I wanted them. I convinced myself I needed them. Now I have them!
Katy you really are a star.
Oh and another thing you horrible, horrible lot out there…I make you a lovely card and not one of you wishes me a Merry Christmas…. I’ll remember that!
Friday, December 22, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Remember me?
Wow it’s been a long time since I last posted anything.
The last couple of weeks of term have been manic: Coursework deadlines, revision classes, end of topic tests and, of course, mock exams (completely different from tests but just as stressful). Just two more days to go though and I’ll be free for the holiday - hurrah!
I’ll do my best to post something more substantial soon.
Promise.
If I don’t you can ask The Bloke Indoors if you can spank me.
The last couple of weeks of term have been manic: Coursework deadlines, revision classes, end of topic tests and, of course, mock exams (completely different from tests but just as stressful). Just two more days to go though and I’ll be free for the holiday - hurrah!
I’ll do my best to post something more substantial soon.
Promise.
If I don’t you can ask The Bloke Indoors if you can spank me.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Ooooh
Well you will never guess what I saw today?
Now I know I moaned about everyone reminding me about how close Christmas is the other day. but that doesn't mean that I don't like Christmassy things...
Carol singers!
A whole bunch! Singing around the heeeuuuuggeee (if slightly crappily decorated) tree at Waterloo station today there was a group of carol singers. There was also a few people with charity buckets as well. I have to apologise to them all; I was in a massive rush (as most people are at train stations) and didn't get a chance to listen, see who they were raising money for or even give them any money. I'm sorry.
But the fact that there was a whole bunch around a Christmas tree with Santa hats on was really nice!
Now I know I moaned about everyone reminding me about how close Christmas is the other day. but that doesn't mean that I don't like Christmassy things...
Carol singers!
A whole bunch! Singing around the heeeuuuuggeee (if slightly crappily decorated) tree at Waterloo station today there was a group of carol singers. There was also a few people with charity buckets as well. I have to apologise to them all; I was in a massive rush (as most people are at train stations) and didn't get a chance to listen, see who they were raising money for or even give them any money. I'm sorry.
But the fact that there was a whole bunch around a Christmas tree with Santa hats on was really nice!
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Friends that are boys (again!)
Not so sure about that ‘elephant in a room’ theory about Harry and me. Him, Anna, The Bloke Indoors and I went to pub after college on Thursday. As we sat in around a table, me cuddled up to The Bloke (half asleep I have to admit) he announced that he has a new girlfriend (guess what? I woke up).
Her name is Chloe and she works in the same coffee shop that he told me he liked me in. Apparently they hit it off a few weeks ago and he finally plucked up the courage to ask her out on a date last weekend.
Yep that’s two days after we spoke.
They went out, they ate, they drank, they kissed…they did a little bit more than kissed and apparently they’ve done that little bit more every day since. Good on Harry.
Its strange, though, I’m almost kind of annoyed that the cheeky git moved on so fast – the way he made it out to me when we spoke was that he had some massive crush on me and couldn’t sleep, eat or think of anything else (seriously, it was a Hollywood moment). Not some stupid one-wank half-thought of an attraction.
To think I was worried things would have to change.
(Look! Two posts in one day! Aren’t you lot lucky…)
Her name is Chloe and she works in the same coffee shop that he told me he liked me in. Apparently they hit it off a few weeks ago and he finally plucked up the courage to ask her out on a date last weekend.
Yep that’s two days after we spoke.
They went out, they ate, they drank, they kissed…they did a little bit more than kissed and apparently they’ve done that little bit more every day since. Good on Harry.
Its strange, though, I’m almost kind of annoyed that the cheeky git moved on so fast – the way he made it out to me when we spoke was that he had some massive crush on me and couldn’t sleep, eat or think of anything else (seriously, it was a Hollywood moment). Not some stupid one-wank half-thought of an attraction.
To think I was worried things would have to change.
(Look! Two posts in one day! Aren’t you lot lucky…)
Strange little bug
Something a little strange that I just can’t quite figure out myself. It’s been bugging me and I figured that this is the perfect place to get rid of it.
No it isn’t an equation I can't balance.
Something The Bloke Indoors and I have discussed and decided against is a threesome. We think that it has to be something you are both completely 100% sure about other wise it could cause problems. Well we decided that both of us have reservations about it and don’t want to include anyone else in our beds at the moment, and probably not ever.
And yet, lately, I can’t stop myself thinking about it while I’m playing with myself and (it has to be said) the thought of it makes me come hard and fast. But, there again, when I think about what I’ve thought about while my hand is between my legs I’m not very happy with it – I just don’t like the idea.
The scene I tend to have in my mind is of me, kneeling on the bed – blindfolded – The Bloke Indoors behind me, teasing my cunt with the end of his cock; gently pushing himself an inch inside me and then pulling out, holding my hips hard so I can’t push back on him as I’m longing to do. The he leans over my back, his hands crawling up my body to my breasts; fingers twisting my nipples, I think I hear the door but I’m not sure because The Bloke is whispering in my ear:
“I want you to do something, you haven’t done it before, but I want you to do it. I want to see you suck someone else’s cock while I fuck you. I want to watch you take someone else’s cock in your mouth and devour it like you do mine while I doggy fuck you hard. There is someone else here, when you feel his cock on your lips: suck it.”
And so as The Bloke Indoors finally allows me to feel his length inside me I feel soft flesh touching my lips, I open my mouth and as The Bloke thrusts my mouth slides down the mystery man’s cock.
I imagine feeling The Bloke’s fingers digging into my hips as this other man grabs my hair, pulling me even further onto him as I suck and moaning with pleasure. The Bloke is speaking, telling me what I look like and calling me dirty names…
This is usually where it ends, although I have had some more elaborate thoughts. I just don’t know why something I wouldn’t go for in the flesh appeals for me so much when I’m on my own?
Saying that…maybe my girl on girl test was flawed?
No it isn’t an equation I can't balance.
Something The Bloke Indoors and I have discussed and decided against is a threesome. We think that it has to be something you are both completely 100% sure about other wise it could cause problems. Well we decided that both of us have reservations about it and don’t want to include anyone else in our beds at the moment, and probably not ever.
And yet, lately, I can’t stop myself thinking about it while I’m playing with myself and (it has to be said) the thought of it makes me come hard and fast. But, there again, when I think about what I’ve thought about while my hand is between my legs I’m not very happy with it – I just don’t like the idea.
The scene I tend to have in my mind is of me, kneeling on the bed – blindfolded – The Bloke Indoors behind me, teasing my cunt with the end of his cock; gently pushing himself an inch inside me and then pulling out, holding my hips hard so I can’t push back on him as I’m longing to do. The he leans over my back, his hands crawling up my body to my breasts; fingers twisting my nipples, I think I hear the door but I’m not sure because The Bloke is whispering in my ear:
“I want you to do something, you haven’t done it before, but I want you to do it. I want to see you suck someone else’s cock while I fuck you. I want to watch you take someone else’s cock in your mouth and devour it like you do mine while I doggy fuck you hard. There is someone else here, when you feel his cock on your lips: suck it.”
And so as The Bloke Indoors finally allows me to feel his length inside me I feel soft flesh touching my lips, I open my mouth and as The Bloke thrusts my mouth slides down the mystery man’s cock.
I imagine feeling The Bloke’s fingers digging into my hips as this other man grabs my hair, pulling me even further onto him as I suck and moaning with pleasure. The Bloke is speaking, telling me what I look like and calling me dirty names…
This is usually where it ends, although I have had some more elaborate thoughts. I just don’t know why something I wouldn’t go for in the flesh appeals for me so much when I’m on my own?
Saying that…maybe my girl on girl test was flawed?
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Sing to me
“I can hear her heels clicking on the sidewalk – beating to the rhythm of my heart. Ohoh You, You’re the only one I want. Mhhmm.”
Every evening, on my way home, I have to walk past one bus stop to get to mine after I finish my train journey. If there aren’t any delays then the same guy will be waiting at that first stop as I walk past every single day. This particular day, as I tottered my way past him he began singing this little tune.
(For the uneducated, it’s Overload, sung by Zappacosta [I think])
I couldn’t help but give him a sideways glance and the slyest of smiles as I past him and heard the words, not only was he singing about me, he was singing about my shoes…AND the song was from Dirty Dancing! Seriously, I was a happy Kit.
I was…until I sung the rest of the song to myself and let my paranoia get the better of me….
“I follow you home every night, just to make sure that you get there alright. Baby its true. Can’t think of anything but you.”
For crying out loud. He was getting a different bus to me! He did every night, he wasn’t following me - he was singing a song! But that didn’t stop me clenching my fists ever so slightly as I walked along and alerting my *ahem* kitten/spider senses to every dark figure behind be in the usually unthreatening dark streets.
Why did the stupid song have to have stalker lyrics? I was very happy being sung to. I didn’t need it spoiled!
Every evening, on my way home, I have to walk past one bus stop to get to mine after I finish my train journey. If there aren’t any delays then the same guy will be waiting at that first stop as I walk past every single day. This particular day, as I tottered my way past him he began singing this little tune.
(For the uneducated, it’s Overload, sung by Zappacosta [I think])
I couldn’t help but give him a sideways glance and the slyest of smiles as I past him and heard the words, not only was he singing about me, he was singing about my shoes…AND the song was from Dirty Dancing! Seriously, I was a happy Kit.
I was…until I sung the rest of the song to myself and let my paranoia get the better of me….
“I follow you home every night, just to make sure that you get there alright. Baby its true. Can’t think of anything but you.”
For crying out loud. He was getting a different bus to me! He did every night, he wasn’t following me - he was singing a song! But that didn’t stop me clenching my fists ever so slightly as I walked along and alerting my *ahem* kitten/spider senses to every dark figure behind be in the usually unthreatening dark streets.
Why did the stupid song have to have stalker lyrics? I was very happy being sung to. I didn’t need it spoiled!
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Slap happy
I have a bad habit of taking my jeans off with the belt still around them. Sheer laziness is the only excuse I have - when I get undressed of an evening I can’t be arsed to pull that strip of leather away from my body (unless of course it is for someone else to see) and so I leave it there until I get up and decide whether or not I want that belt the next day.
I got a bit of a surprise when I did it last night. The particular belt I had on was thick, black leather one, with a horseshoe metal buckle. As I stepped from my jeans yesterday, they lay in a crumpled heap in front of me, the belt hanging limply from its loops. I’m not quite that messy, so I picked them up to fold and put to the side for laundry later on. I picked them up and shook the legs straight. I shook them like mad. I shook them so bloody hard that the end of the belt came out of the loop and thwacked me right around the top of my left thigh.
Bastard thing.
Getting slapped by a belt is definitely not as pleasurable when you do it to yourself by accident.
I got a bit of a surprise when I did it last night. The particular belt I had on was thick, black leather one, with a horseshoe metal buckle. As I stepped from my jeans yesterday, they lay in a crumpled heap in front of me, the belt hanging limply from its loops. I’m not quite that messy, so I picked them up to fold and put to the side for laundry later on. I picked them up and shook the legs straight. I shook them like mad. I shook them so bloody hard that the end of the belt came out of the loop and thwacked me right around the top of my left thigh.
Bastard thing.
Getting slapped by a belt is definitely not as pleasurable when you do it to yourself by accident.
Monday, December 04, 2006
You don't say already!!
Apparently…apparently…there are three weeks left ‘til Christmas. Not that you would notice. I mean its only written in every single newspaper, mentioned on every news broadcast, plastered across adverts to every shop and the first thing on the lips of every child old enough to know how to count and/or read a calendar.
I get the picture already, and you know what? I don’t really want to hear it!
Over. And over. And over again.
As it happens, I’m almost completely set for the festivities; I have only 3 presents left to buy, 2 cards and the wrapping paper – all of which will take place some time next weekend I believe. You can’t say I’m unorganised.
My problem is sidetracking. Take Saturday - an afternoon shopping trip with Katy down the West End to find something for relatives. What did it turn into? An ogling session at some new underwear shops we found that we didn’t know existed near Soho! They were bloody expensive though, the bra that I resisted drooling onto was £165 and I didn’t even look at the bottoms that matched. All I can say to describe the kind of stock they had was silk, ornamental and fetish-wear all mixed in to one to cater for all your needs. It was heaven in a shop!
And yes. They even sold shoes.
I’ve decided I want a pair of those things that just cover your nipples; I don’t know what they’re called (how crap am I?). I’m also thinking perhaps a pair of clamps with a chain connected so The Bloke Indoors can ‘lead’ me around the room.
Katy bought a green bra and thong set from Topshop while we were supposed to be in Topman looking at jeans.
We’re as bad as each other.
But good at it.
I get the picture already, and you know what? I don’t really want to hear it!
Over. And over. And over again.
As it happens, I’m almost completely set for the festivities; I have only 3 presents left to buy, 2 cards and the wrapping paper – all of which will take place some time next weekend I believe. You can’t say I’m unorganised.
My problem is sidetracking. Take Saturday - an afternoon shopping trip with Katy down the West End to find something for relatives. What did it turn into? An ogling session at some new underwear shops we found that we didn’t know existed near Soho! They were bloody expensive though, the bra that I resisted drooling onto was £165 and I didn’t even look at the bottoms that matched. All I can say to describe the kind of stock they had was silk, ornamental and fetish-wear all mixed in to one to cater for all your needs. It was heaven in a shop!
And yes. They even sold shoes.
I’ve decided I want a pair of those things that just cover your nipples; I don’t know what they’re called (how crap am I?). I’m also thinking perhaps a pair of clamps with a chain connected so The Bloke Indoors can ‘lead’ me around the room.
Katy bought a green bra and thong set from Topshop while we were supposed to be in Topman looking at jeans.
We’re as bad as each other.
But good at it.
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