Cruella’s in the house!

Afternoon my Lovers,

Anyone just finished a little afternoon delight? I certainly hope so 😉 I myself am listening to my 90’s playlist of corny love songs. (Pretty much all Boys to Men and NSYNC with a few Backstreet Boys thrown in. What better way to spend a Saturday arvo?) Now today’s post will be fairly short, (unlike the epic playilst) because I’m just here to fill you in on some very exciting happenings coming up! I am officially going to my first sex party! Well, it’s more of a ball than a party apparently. 1000 – 1500 hot blooded, scantily clad men and women doing the ol bump and grind on the in between danglies. Sounds amazeballs right? Well it gets even better. It’s themed! That’s right, the theme this time round is Disney! I’m going as Cruella Deville and have already spent FAR too much money on getting my costume right. Think spotted pointy high heels, stay up black stockings, black semi see through panties with a slight spot motif, (black on black spots so very subtle) black garter belt and black and white bustier. My fabulous friend who has just finished design school will be helping me with a spotted cape type coat thing and some lace cuffs. Got the picture in your head yet? Lets hope so. The way this particular part-ay works is you rock up in regular clothes and get ushered into change rooms. This is where you transform into a pert princess with crotchless undies or a voluptuous villain with edible nipple pasties. The dress code is lingerie or nothing. You cannot enter the party with clothes. Boys are the same except even more limitations. Jocks, boxers or ass-less chaps. My my my what a display of manliness this will be! Of course I am very much aware that 90% of the men there will be over forty and with a slightly less than fit physique (to put it nicely) but that is why I have my back up man. I’ll tell you about him in further posts so by the time the party rolls round you’ll know him very well.

The night basically goes a little something like this, go in, get changed, head to the massive D-floor and start checking out the meat- er people I mean.  You dance, you drink (though not too much boys!) and then after a few hours you head upstairs to where the fun really begins. Personally I’m quite looking forward to the masters and mistresses. Even if I don’t participate I am keen to learn a thing or two. I tied my back up to my bed the other night but he kept escaping so I really need to get my knots in check.

So, are we excited? I know I am! The party is in late March so keep your eyes peeled and your legs spread for that post.

Until next time Lovers, have an erotic weekend!

Claire xx

Pick up Line of the week – I’ve lost my phone number, can I have yours?

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Lucky hits the web

Well good evening Lovers!

Salutations and sexy thoughts to all! Tonight it’s all about that fickle beast that is the world of internet dating. If you’ve ever looked at a large barbeque chicken pizza and thought  ‘I’m going to destroy you boy’ or ripped open a cheese burger, stared lovingly into it’s slightly watery, meaty eyes and decided ‘Oh yes, this is most definitely the best relationship I have been in in a long time.’

I have bad news for you Lovers, food can’t replace sex! Food may taste amazing, always be around when you need it and give you warm fuzzy feelings (and quite possibly gas) but remember, sex is manna from heaven! Sex is where it’s at! And unlike food you never have to pay for it! (That’s right ladies, pull those panties back up, grab the wad of fifties back out of his hand and get the hell out of there.) If you ever think a kebab can get you off, you need to get yourself back into the dating game quick smart! That being said, food plus sex can be quite exciting, just watch that hot cheese, or your next visit to the doctor will be an interesting one.

I know good sex can be hard to find (trust me I know) but now that the world of internet dating has evolved past basement dwellers and cat ladies we can all go in search of what we need. If that’s  a quick bang to help you forget about the new Krispy Creme opening or a full blown relationship, we can all seek and hopefully find! So listen close Lovers, as I divulge the details of my first forray into this new and strange world.

It’s a Saturday night. You’ve just polished off the better half of a family size carbonara and now you’ve retired to the couch with a pack of what you wish were that magical box of never ending Tim Tams. Armageddon is playing for the thousandth time on tv and even though you know how it ends you half heartedly watch it on the off chance that everybody lives this time around. You double check your phone just to make sure it’s still in good working order. Full reception. Check. Battery Charged. Check. Message Box. Empty. Again.

There comes a time in every single girls life when she has to make a choice. She can sit on the couch with a pair of tweezers and attempt to give herself a Brazilian, or she can do the unthinkable. Plunge deep into the world of Internet Dating.

After twenty painful minutes of the Brazilian option, this girl decided to give the whole internet thing a go.

Ten years ago hunting for a man on the internet was sad and pathetic. Only the wierdo’s who couldn’t socialize without having their ferrets nearby for support did it. But now, a decade on, it is not nearly as taboo as it once was. People are actually admitting proudly that they met on the net. There are literally thousands of success stories slathered all over (where else but) the internet. It may be true that quite a few of these people are what you would call, challenged, in the looks department, but being a girl who’s been beaten with the ugly stick more than once, I decided it could be right up my alley.

First things first when it comes to Internet Dating. You have to have a username. The same goes for any dating site you attempt to join. Being the cheapskate I am, I opted for the free site. Seriously, I’m not going to pay someone to date me. Well not until I’m in my forties that is.

So how does one come up with a username I hear you ask. Well here’s a tip for you. Do not use your real name. It’s the fastest route to Stalker Avenue and then your only a hop skip and a sharp blade away from Murder Boulevard. Now, while some people are into that kinkier stuff I’m more of a vanilla girl. So I devised a lovely innocent name that could (hopefully) never be traced back to me.

In year ten, I (shamefully) participated in Army Cadets. And in said Cadets we each had to have code names so we could talk over the radio and not be discovered by the enemy. The enemy being the Arts class that was always held next door. Intense I know.

At the time I was obsessed with Britney Spears, in particular her new song Lucky. Hence how I got the codename Lucky. You think mines bad, spare a thought for the guy codenamed Rooster.

Lucky. Perfect username right? Apparently not according to the website. Names had to be at least eight characters long. Bastards. Back to square one. I racked my tiny brains until I finally remembered something I could use.

When I was a little kid, I was tiny. I don’t mean I was really short or anything. No, I mean I was super skinny. I had a pot belly but my arms and legs were compiled of nothing more than skin and bone. When I hopped into a leotard for gymnastics I looked like a scary little spider.

So it became a bit of a joke in the family to call me chubby. It became so common place that the nickname Bub-chub was born. Bub because I was the youngest and chub because, well, you know. These days I just get called Chubs, but the nickname has stuck for the last twenty or so years, so it’s not something I’m likely to forget anytime soon.

Luckybub. Username complete!

After a couple more failed attempts with the tweezers, I moved onto the second phase of Internet Dating. The Profile.

Here is where you basically choose what your after in a man, and what you really, really don’t want. This doesn’t mean much, as guys can search for anybody they want and attempt to contact you anyway.

This aside, I typed in my man credentials and pushed enter. Now for the hard part. Describing yourself is never an easy task. You don’t want to sound so up yourself you’re inside out, but at the same time nobody scores points by saying “there’s nothing really interesting about me at all. I’m quite boring really.” Although I must say a lot of blokes lead with this in their profiles, always followed by “Add me if you want to know more.”

That’s a negative big guy.

I attempted to be funny with a bit of the old “ If anybody asks, we can always say we met hang-gliding or something cool like that!” Lame I know, but it’s amazing how blank the mind goes when asked to describe the one person we know best in this world. Anyways then I prattled on about being into chocolate and wanting someone to spoil and all that rubbish. In essence, my profile looked exactly the same as all the other ladies searching for Mr Right. And that was ok, because as it turns out, it’s all about the picture. I’d done my research and scoped out a couple of ladies profile pictures. I also got a couple of my man friends to judge with me. Granted one of them was gay and the other hadn’t had much experience and was just excited to see if any of them had their tops off. But hey, any opinion is better than none.

Here is what not to do in these boys oh so experienced opinions.

Don’t scowl at the camera.

You’re on here to find love ladies, not to scare them off one by one. There is no point caking on all that makeup if you’re just going to snarl into the lens.

(Note: If you’re Emo, Gothic, Hipster or Indy and searching for a similar male partner, then the scowl may actually work in your favour.)

Don’t take a cleavage shot.

Suprising I know, but both my manly judges said they wouldn’t speak to these girls because they wouldn’t respect them and they would imagine them as an easy conquest. Hmmm, come to think of it, maybe they’re both gay.

Put up more than one picture.

From experience, guys that only put up one picture are terrible. I call them one picture wankers. You don’t want to be one, trust me. They usually look nothing like the one picture they put up. Either they took the picture ten years ago, took it before they had life altering plastic surgery or took it at their mate’s modelling agency and dialed up the photo-shop to full. Here’s my advice: take one pretty one as your cover shot to get them in. Then choose one where you’re having fun but still look fairly ok. Then choose one where you look completely ridiculous but you’re having the time of your life. (Nobody wants someone who looks gorgeous but has the personality of a pineapple) and finish with another pretty looking one. That way you look well rounded and they know you’re not always going to look perfectly polished.

So the photos are up, they’ve been approved and you’re ready to start trolling the men whilst still in your manky undies. Score.

My very first contact request was nearly enough to scare me off the internet forever. It would be easy to make up some wild stories about online dating, but I never do that, because I find that the real ones are so much more interesting… and creepy.

Meet Satinman85. His profile reads as follows: (and I stress, this crazy ass is real)

Hello Ladies,

If I do not get back to you straight away, I am not being rude. I receive an extremely large number of requests to work through, so please be patient 🙂 I also rarely send out contact requests, so if you do receive a contact request from me, it is because I feel you share the same interests as me, particularly re: Satin and Public displays of affection.

Ladies, Women, Girls, Females. Welcome. What you see is what you get. Upfront, honest and straight to the point. No hidden messages or messing around. Why beat around the bush, Speak your mind always and get what you really desire in life. Why can’t you have your cake and eat it too. I certainly do. Who says fantasies can only be played out in your mind and dreams. They should be a reality each and every day.

So, besides the cliche stuff in life (That 99% of guys on here ramble on about ie: Mates, Gym, Keeping fit, Family etc) that we all should really like, I am going to cut the B.S and tell you how it is for me.

I like Satin and Silk on girls. Love it in fact. Obsessed even.

Why do I like it? Great question. The way silky satin stretches and hugs the perfect female body when a girl moves/walks, takes my breath away every time. Besides looking amazing, nothing in the world is nicer to touch/ tease over than Satin and Silk, for both the lads and the ladies it excites both parties equally when caressed and sensually stimulates the body faster than any other material. Guys love touching it, and girls feel sexy in it. As simple as that.

I work in the city and there is nothing sexier then a corporate secretary/ receptionist/business lady wearing stiletto heels and a short Satin/Silk business skirt and blouse. The way the Satin/Silk moves in perfect unison with her legs and ass is spectacular.

When I hit the bars and clubs what attracts me most you wonder…you guessed it. The girl wearing the sexy tight little Satin/Silk  dress and high heels. Nothing sexier than dirty dancing/bumping and grinding with a girl in this attire. The creases the Satin/Silk makes as she moves in time with the music as both of our hands glaze simultaneously over her Satin/Silk clad body. The only thing hotter than this is discovering the classy dame is wearing Satin/Silk panties. Game. Set. Match.

After a big night out there only one thing I am looking forward to. My Satin/Silk sheets. Take your pick, I have about 10 sets. Classic black satin on there at the moment. There are only two things a girl should be wearing in the bedroom, especially if she is in my bedroom on my satin/silk sheets (If you are lucky enough). Can you take a wild guess? That’s right, a short lil Satin/Silk nighty/robe with a matching Satin/Silk G-string.

The rest you can leave to the imagination.

Its a shame the majority of girls/women these days wear lace/cotton panties thinking a) Its sexy and b) That most guys like it. This could not be further from the truth. Something shiny and sexy over something rough and bland any day of the week.

If you are one of the rare girls that still understands the sensual, seductive and sexiness that Satin/Silk offers feel free to slide on over.

So what else do I enjoy besides the cliche standard things in life and Satin/Silk you may ask.

Getting naughty in public 😉 I think the risk of being caught or even having someone watch (and being jealous/disgusted) that you are doing the deed  in public is a massive turn on. If you thought shopping store fitting rooms, parks, beaches, playgrounds, cars, movie cinemas and public toilets only had one use, think again. These are only a few destinations that your naughty fantasies can come true.

If you would like to experience other uses for the above listed places and many more, don’t be shy, come say hi.

What I’m Looking for

A sexy girl who loves/or is keen to try wearing the sexiest material ever invented.

If you feel you’re sexiest wearing the following:

Satin/Silk dresses

Satin/Silk skirts

Satin/Silk nighties

Satin/Silk panties

Satin/Silk bras

Satin/Silk lingerie

Then I would love to hear from you 🙂

Girls who are keen on/keen to try getting naughty in public places.

You will realise that shopping store fitting rooms, parks, beaches, playgrounds, cars, movie cinemas and public toilets have so many more reasons for use now 🙂

What the actual fuck…

Needless to say I did not return his contact request. (You must remember I was young and innocent at this time and Fifty Shades of Grey had not been released yet)

But never fear Lovers, I carried on with me search, and the results, well they tell quite the story 🙂

Until next time my Lovelies!

Claire xx

Great bonking song: Boadicea

By: Enya

Best used when: Performing a sexy massage that leads into super intense earth shattering sex

So this is spooning…

Afternoon Lovers!

I know yesterday I promised you a story about my first club hook up and I am here to deliver! Now just a bit of back story. This was just before Charlie, so were still deep in virgin territory. Last kiss was from my high school beloved so I really didn’t have any other experience to go on. Very, very innocent. (How times have changed!) Alrightey guys and girls, buckle in!

I was out on the town with a friend Rebecca and her boyfriend. It was almost nine thirty so as usual I was having difficulty not slurring my sentences. I plopped down at a table just as some of her boyfriend’s friends approached us. Even in my blurry condition I knew which one I bagsed. I hastily relayed the information to Bec and we set about devising a plan of attack. It was very simple really. I would walk towards the bar, bypassing him as I did, stumble a little, and fall oh so coincidentally onto his waiting lap. Not the most graceful approach no, but as I was new to high heels I was probably going to fall over anyway, so we figured we’d take advantage of it. The plan went well, and within ten minutes I was perched on his lap, cradling a sore elbow I had slammed into his chair in the attempt. We started to chat and to my surprise he was quite nice.

Things were going so well that when we changed bars he even held my hand! Oh yes, this was the story I would be telling at our wedding. His Mother would be crying softly behind me, so grateful that her son had found someone as perfect as me in such an imperfect situation. I soaked up the feeling of his hand in mine, deciding I very much could get used to it. At the next bar he bought me a drink and I watched as he paid the bartender and handed me the drink without even an attempt to slip anything into it. Total gentleman. We started to dance and that was when I learnt the art of the grind. Did you know that when you stand very close to a guy you can tell if he is hard?! It was a first for me and when it happened I leapt back with a little yelp. Luckily I disguised it as inaudible karaoke. I ran to the bathroom with Bec and took a moment to contain myself before talking about the amazing and surprising moment that had just occurred. Bec had been with her boyfriend for years so she was well past crotch grazing and didn’t seem to grasp the enormity of my shock. On another deeper, slightly sluttier level, I realised something. I wanted to do it again. Maybe it was the Breezers talking but a huge part of me wanted to get back out onto that dance- floor and rub up all over him. Maybe even for an entire song! So that’s just what I did. And when his mouth closed over mine, all hot and heavy, sweaty and grindy, I couldn’t have been happier. Now what happened next I had absolutely no control over. Bec, seeing our obvious connection suggested to her boyfriend that James should come home with us. We were all staying at my house, which was bachelorette central and there was always plenty of space for extra people. Before I knew it, I was jammed into the backseat of a taxi, the smell of James’s Joop perfume so strong it was close to suffocating me. When we finally reached the house and piled out, Bec gave me a conspiritual wink and hurried into the room she was sharing with her man. Crossing my fingers that they wouldn’t have sex on the new sheets, I walked to my room. It wasn’t until I was in the room that I realised James had followed me inside. I cocked my head to the side at him, wondering what on Earth he was doing there. I asked him if he needed anything and he replied with some seedy nonsense. Amazing how some memories tend to blur after time, and yet I can still remember the very distinct, very unladylike snort I gave at that line. He recoiled in shock for a moment, before collecting himself. I admit if I was in his position I’d be running for the hills after that whopper. But no, he came towards me and gave me another of those hot sloppy kisses. Only this time it wasn’t as nice. Now that the club music wasn’t thudding in my ears and Bourbon and Coke wasn’t being splashed all over my back, it just didn’t feel the same. So you can imagine my surprise when he took his shirt off. My mouth fell open and everything I had ever learnt in sex ed came flashing back to me. Bananas on condoms, birthing videos, tampons blowing up to three times their size when dropped in water. Not the most alluring of thoughts, so I did the only thing I could think of. I left the room and came back in my most manly, unflattering pyjamas. He swept a look over me and I could tell he was disappointed. Five points to me, I thought with a little smirk. Then he swept back the covers to reveal he was wearing only tighty whities. I could totally see the outline and by the looks of THINGS, he wasn’t feeling very sleepy. I walked towards the bed, looking for an escape, but short of pulling out the spare mattress and setting up camp on the floor, I knew I would have to get in. I hoped he hadn’t found my Tim Tam stash under the pillow yet, that would be a little difficult to explain. As I was thinking this, he pulled a bag of Peanut M&M’s from between the bed and wall. Damn. Luckily for him he didn’t eat any, or there would have been tears. I gingerly crawled into bed and switched my lamp off, careful not to touch him in any way. The room was pitch black, and as I waited for my eyes to adjust I kept thinking about what he could be doing at this very moment. If he was touching those M&M’s he was a dead man. Time passed however, and along with the absence of a crinkling packet of M&M’s, there was an absence of his hands. I started to relax. Maybe he just needed a place to stay. Yes, that was it. He wouldn’t risk ruining what we had with a silly one nighter. Besides, he had kissed me, how often do people go out clubbing with the plan to kiss someone, let alone go home with them? Minimal, very minimal. I sighed a contented sigh at a night well spent and went to roll over when suddenly all the air in my chest whooshed out of me as he dive bombed onto my chest. I gasped, slightly winded and very much annoyed. As I opened my mouth to express my feelings his mouth came crashing down on mine. And this time he was all teeth. It seemed his kisses deteriorated the later it got in the night. He gnawed on my bottom lip, all the while groaning and gasping to the point where I wondered if he had hurt himself. Finally from somewhere inside me the sober, feminist Claire decided to speak up. Just as his hand started to snake up my thigh towards no man’s land I slapped him away. I rolled him off me, sat up and turned the light on.

“Oh so you want to do it with the lights on?” He asked, grinning lopsidedly like the idiot I now realised he was.
I looked him square in the eye and in my most teacher like voice I replied.
“No thankyou. It’s late and I would like to sleep now. Just sleep. Goodnight.”
He looked like I’d just shot his puppy. By the looks of things his “puppy” was looking a lot less excited now as well. I nodded in satisfaction, popped an M&M into my mouth and turned the light off. I could feel him staying in the same position for a long time and I couldn’t help but let a small smile creep onto my face.

And then he spooned me.

Good god it was nice. I didn’t even think of kicking him off, the sensation was so fantastic. In fact, I even snuggled closer! The shame.

All too soon however, the morning came. And oh how it came.
I awoke not snuggled comfortably against the handsome lovely man I had been dreaming of, no, I woke up crushed underneath a gigantic leg thrown across my stomach and a gropey man hand flung over my chest. Needless to say it shook me out of my romantic thoughts instantly. Now was the awkward moment I had only read about in the saucy novels that Mum tried to keep hidden from me. How the hell could I get rid of him? He had no car, no spare clothes and I was pretty sure he’d spent his last couple of dollars on a kebab. It may have seemed like a great idea at the time, but his choice of garlic sauce was now repeating on him in the most unsavoury of ways. I pried his hand off my chest and pinched his toe just hard enough for him to flinch away from me in his sleep. I was finally free! But not entirely. I looked back at him, my nose wrinkling as another garlic burp seeped out of his mouth, nostrils and eyes at the same time. He must have sensed my gaze on him because he chose that exact moment to open his blood shot eyes. I received a lopsided grin which I assumed he thought was devilishly handsome, before he mumbled “ That was some night huh?” I smiled awkwardly as I backed away from him towards the door, keeping my steps slow and small so maybe he would just think the room was getting bigger and I was shrinking. Hey, weirder things have happened when you’re hung-over right?

After finally reaching the safety of the kitchen and having a stern word to Bec about the dangers of bringing relative strangers home, we devised a plan to get James out of the house.
I sauntered back into the bedroom, wincing only slightly as the heady smell of day old garlic hit me. I was going to have to bloody steam clean my sheets to get that out. Doing my best to smile through the fumes, I told him cheerily of our days plan. It basically consisted of smoothies for breakfast so we could start a cleanse for the weekend, and then a couple of hours of shopping, just window as we were clean out of the green, and finishing with pedicures and Gilmore Girls. You can imagine my horror when James agreed to this fantastic day without batting an eyelid. He even made us all have wheatgrass shots with our smoothies! Note to self, if ever you need to empty out the old feedbag, have a wheatgrass shot, I don’t know if I’ve ever spent so long with my head in a toilet. He bought a shirt while we shopped and even picked which season of Gilmore Girls to watch. All the while Bec’s boyfriend was slowly slipping into a coma from which there could be no return (unless fed a 6 pack through a drip.) Finally, finally he let me drive him home. It was just bad luck really that he lived about an hour away from me. As soon as he stepped out of the car I floored it. Polite? No. Desperate? Yes. And you know the worst part? On my way home I started thinking, (never a good sign in my strange little brain.) This guy just spent all day with me. I forced him to do the most inhumane things and he didn’t complain once, in fact, at times he appeared to be enjoying himself… It was then that it hit me. This guy must be gay… or he liked me. The latter seemed the easiest option, but the more I thought about it, the more the signals seemed to be there. But what are you supposed to do when put in this position? Anytime any boy had ever shown even a skerrick of interest in me I was usually sketching a picture of my wedding dress before he’d even said three sentences to me. But this time, I just wasn’t into him. I have never ever been good with confrontations and there are movies I can’t even watch because I feel so sorry for the characters. Don’t even get me started on what happens to the Mother in Muriel’s Wedding. You want to tear up? Bang that in the DVD player. So you can imagine the stress I was feeling, thinking I had to let this guy down. I ate the entire contents of my fridge, freezer and my best friends cupboard (Which is always stocked with deliciously tempting goodies) but surprisingly I couldn’t find the answer there. So I did the only thing I could do, I kept seeing him. (Hey, enough of that judgy judge look. We’ve all been in this situation, yes?) Well if you haven’t here’s the way it went down. Take notes please, I would hate for you to be put into this position from sheer lack of study.

I talked to him on the phone a few times a week but generally found excuses not to see him. I did the usual “How was your day?” and oohed and aahed in all the appropriate places. The great thing about phone relationships is that he’ll never know you are actually watching the Lion King turned down with subtitles on. True, you have to explain why you’re crying as Mufasa gets thrown off the cliff, but a little “it’s that special time of the month” usually sorts that out no problem. Eventually the day came though, I finally had to see him again. As luck would have it, it was New Years Eve. Horrible timing I know. I was out with a friend and her brother and after a couple of bottles of bubbles and god knows how many shots, we were having quite a lovely time. It was then that I got the “hey lets meet up “ msg. I was feeling happy, tipsy and of course horny (It’s New Years people, who doesn’t want a little something something?) so I told him where we were in the city and that he was welcome to come along. After smugly downing another drink, thinking my New Years was going to be particularly memorable this year, I got a rather long text msg. To say it wasn’t what I was expecting would be an understatement. My dearest James had sent me a very nasty text message, accusing me of using him, and that he had feelings that were not to be toyed with. He went on to tell me how much of an asshole I was and how he couldn’t be expected to follow around after me like some well-trained dog. In my inebriated state I may or may not have sent a text back asking him “if you were though, what type of dog you would like to be.” This did not go down well as you could imagine and a whole lot of names came flying at me. I could have taken it lying down, (I was practically horizontal at that point in the night anyway) but suddenly all the hot-blooded womanly righteousness surged through my alcohol thinned veins. I gave him a slightly slurred, slightly ridiculous lecture about a woman’s rights and how he should learn to treat women with respect and all that nonsense. Not surprisingly, I heard nothing back, and so I continued with my night, only slightly ruffled by this annoying turn of events. Two hours later I was inadvertently grinding a bouncer at a nearby bar when my phone blipped at me again. Surprise surprise it was Jamesy boy. He begged for another chance and wanted to take me to a movie the next day (Which is ridiculous because I already had a date with my toilet bowl and there was no way I was missing that)

And so it was that I found a way to let a boy down. Turns out the way to do it is lots and lots of alcohol. And not just for you, it’s so much easier if he’s pissed off his nut as well. It was easy really, I just said I wasn’t interested and how he was lovely but I didn’t ever want to see him naked. He took it very well and as luck would have it, he went on to hook up with a rather lovely lady that night, who he is now married to with two kids. See how everything happens for a reason? I went home that night with a rather handsome looking kebab, and although we are not married today, he gave me a beautiful food baby.

Not bad for a first time eh? Oh and just so you know, we did not stay in touch, I just found out about the wife and baby through the glorious invention that is Facebook 😉

Well Lovers, I hope you’ve had an amazing weekend and you can spend your Monday morning reminiscing about that amazing guy you made out with, or at the very least the spectacular new drink you discovered. We’ll talk again soon!

Claire xx

Pick up line of the week: Is your Dad a terrorist? Cause you da bomb baby!

Yeah, but will she fuck you like a man?

Hello there Lovers,

And a happy weekend to you all. Are we drinking tonight? Or still recovering from last night? 😉 I’m in full recovery mode myself, but as I’m trying to get in shape for a certain sex party (details soon) I’m snacking on carrots. (Granted, the amount of dip I’m spooning out with them is slightly above the recommended average daily intake for a large family, but hey I’m getting the vegies in and that’s what counts!) Last night was very interesting actually. I had quite the epiphany at the end of the night.

There we were, knocking back the good stuff and having a laugh. It hit around midnight and my seventh drink and I decided I needed a pash. No numbers, no take me home, just tongue in face. Now. Well, you can imagine my surprise when in a packed bar, I could find no candidates. I did the obligatory two laps and then deployed the old lean and glance, but either the boys  were already with their girlfriends, they weren’t to my liking or they weren’t interested in my L and G. I looked around, smiling, looking breezy and friendly, completely open for the approach without being needy. But none came. I went to the bar and started chatting to a cutie next to me and he even bought me a drink. I’m in! I thought, but all he wanted was a kiss on the cheek!

What the actual fuck.

I thought maybe he wanted me to tag along to his table but he gave me the very firm “Have a good night.” which in the dating world is the equivalent of “If you take another step the restraining order will be filed.”

I went back to the leaning, and as I did I started to feel a cold feeling descend on me. What was wrong with me? I wasn’t putting out ‘desperate for love’ vibes, I just wanted a bit of fun. Was I so unattractive? So un-kissable?

I looked around the room with sad eyes, and watched the chatting up dance as it unfolded. What did these girls have that I didn’t? But the more I looked, the more I realised they had nothing on me. Sure they were attractive and knew how to apply a shitload of makeup, but were they like me? Would they not only be willing, but more than happy to dress up as a slutty maid and dust her boys balls? Would they hum Sweet Child of Mine as they sucked the lucky mans testicles, not because they had to but because it improves the sensation for him? Would they even think about manning up and throwing on a strap-on because their man has fantasies he wants to fulfill?

No. I don’t think so.

And that’s when it hit me. I am rare. I am a catch. And any boy lucky enough to be with me, be it for a minute, an hour or even forever, will know exactly how good he has it.

So I’ll let him find me. And all the boys who turn up their nose at me or shove me aside to get to the supermodel who can barely put food in her mouth let alone a penis, are just not for me. I nodded to myself, wonder-struck that I could have such a positive thought after so much beer. So I went to the bar, ordered another Black Russian and went back to my friends, confidant in the fact that I was special, and unique. And that the universe would send me a lovely guy with a big cock as soon as it sees fit.

Tomorrow I’ll tell you all about my very first pick up in a club. And I didn’t even mean too! Now that’s Murphy’s Law right there.

Happy weekend Lovers, and don’t forget to celebrate Sunday the way it should be celebrated. With multiple orgasms 🙂

Claire xx

Best Bonking Songs! – Your Man

By – Josh Turner

Best Used For – If you have to ask, you haven’t heard the song

Could it be worse?….. Duh

Happy Hump-day Eve Lovers!

Although, lets face it, if you put your mind to it, every day can be hump day, or at the very least inappropriate touching of the in-between danglies day. 😉

So, did we all survive Valentine’s day? No sex injuries, pash rashes or regretful tattoos I hope? Good to hear!

Now with Valentines day and all the love that is thrown out into the universe, people tend to forget about the other side of a relationship. The break-up. Every woman worth her salt has a break up story or ten to tell. (Normally surfacing after a hard night on the vodka) I have complete and total sympathy for those poor women who get dumped on Valentines day. To be unceremoniously given your marching orders on the very day you should be getting elongated and uninterrupted oral sex is nothing short of a travesty. I myself am lucky enough to have never experienced this as yet, but never fear, if it does occur you will be the first to know about it!

In support of these unfortunate women (who by the way are much better off and can now find someone who knows the difference between a g-spot and g-mail) I will recount one of my more unfortunate breakup tales.

Remember Charlie? Yes, the one who ‘made me a woman’ so to speak. Well things started going south pretty quickly. Partly because the sex remained as awful and boring as that first ‘memorable’ time, but also because it turned out that Charlie was actually a bit of a dickhead. Read on to find out how I ended the hot mess that was my Cambodian catch.

So, what do you do when your boyfriend is horrible in bed? That was the constant question running through my head at the time. Trust me when I say this, do not try too hard. The first time I bought lingerie I had barely taken my shirt off when I felt something warm and sticky hit my stomach. That was the end of that night.

When I got a haircut and got my makeup professionally done all I received in return was him begging and pleading to cum on my face. (Yeah right, as if I was paying sixty dollars just so he could play target practice with my nostrils.)
So then I tried the opposite. I returned to being the prudish, shy little girl I was before we had special cuddles, and man did that drive him wild! Unfortunately when Charlie got wild he usually only lasted long enough for me to undo his first two buttons. There was one particularly memorable experience in a very lovely park one night. We were in his car, looking out at the view, and boy was Charlie up for it. I however, knew that this specific park was a hot spot for making babies and so was also frequently visited by the police. I kept telling Charlie this and that we should wait till we got home but he kept asking and begging. He even offered to do the dishes when we got home.

Some offers are just to good to refuse I guess.
We jumped in the backseat and Charlie popped on a condom. Turns out he was just in time, because about five seconds later I heard that oh so familiar grunting sound and my Charlie was done.

And so our relationship carried on like that. Yes, we had some great moments. Charlie would always be around to lift heavy things for me at work or pick me up after I fell off the forklift again, but there was always something missing. And when I finally told him I loved him, I wasn’t entirely sure if I meant it.

That was at the two-month mark. It was by far the longest I had ever been involved or even interested in a man, and so I started to experience a feeling very new to me; jealousy. Where was he when he said he was working late? Why could I never meet his family? Why did we always stay at my house and not his? The frustrating thing about dating someone whose first language is not English is that they can get out of any argument by crying “I don’t understand!” or “You’re talking too fast!” It made things very difficult for me and we became distant from each other for a couple days. Finally though, as all good boyfriends should, he offered me an apology. And that apology was in the form of a date. He wanted to recreate our first date, (clubbing and drinks) hence recreating the Cambodian love spark between us. My heart melted and I agreed pronto.
So there we were, out on the town, alternating drinking with dancing and swapping saliva when we were too tired to do either. Around midnight things started getting a little pear shaped. I suddenly got this panging pain in my chest. God it hurt. I felt like I couldn’t get any air into my lungs and every time I tried to breathe in my chest would stab in agony.

Now here’s a lesson ladies, in what good boyfriend’s should do. Normally he would fold you in his arms and sit you down with a glass of ice-cold water. If it’s a cold night he would of course like a total gentleman take his shirt off to cover you up with and hail the nearest taxi to get you home and safe ASAP. Of course if you start to feel better once your home you repay him with sex, but that’s a given right?
Anyway, so now that you know what a real man would do, I’ll fill you in on what my lovely Charlie did.
According to my man, his shirt was one of a kind and I might rip a button off if I wasn’t careful, so there went that move. I didn’t get a glass of water, oh no. I got a shot of it. A shot that turned out to be Vodka. After I was finished gagging he then very sweetly asked if I was feeling any better. When I replied with a sentence containing mostly expletives he turned up the charm. And by charm I mean Tequila. He sat me down, lined up three shots in front of me, and somehow convinced me that I was feeling this pain because I was not drunk enough. According to him I was in a sort of slightly drunk limbo, where your body has had a little to drink, but desperately wants more, so informs you of this situation by sending ouchy signals straight to your chest. Personally I think I was a lot more than a little drunk because I believed him and downed the shots one by one.
He was right in a way. After that I stopped feeling my chest at all. And my feet for that matter. Charlie then decided this was the moment to introduce me to his brother. He took me to a club I had never even heard of before, and as soon as I stepped through the door I understood why. I kept wishing I had brought pegs in my handbag so I could at least attempt to fit in. Almond eyed alluring Asians packed out the joint. There was not a single Caucasian in the place. Lots of cocaine, but no Caucasians. I clutched Charlie tighter; knowing if I lost him there was no way I would be able to pick him out in the crowd. Things went a little fuzzy after that. I think I met his brother, and I think he liked me. So that was a bonus. But finally my poor little body had enough. I could barely stand and there was nowhere to sit that I wouldn’t mess up someone’s line. Luckily, at that moment Charlie stepped up to the plate and became a good boyfriend. He said goodbye to his mates and we jumped in the first taxi we saw. We couldn’t go back to my place because my brother had never met Charlie and I didn’t think this was the best first impression to make. Through my blurred brain I thought it would actually be a fantastic opportunity to finally go to Charlie’s house but he turned me down flat on that option. Bastard. Then he had the bright idea to stay at a hotel for the night. I’ll give you the tip now; it is very difficult to find a hotel under $80 after three am on a Saturday. We were in that taxi for forty-five minutes. Charlie and the taxi driver even shared a cigarette! Total bromance. I guess he kind of got what came to him then. I was not feeling good, so Charlie laid me down on his lap. Bad idea. About twenty seconds later all that lovely Tequila was making a return appearance. Charlie clapped a hand over my mouth and the taxi pulled over double time. As the boys cozied up over another cigarrete I got to perform the one-woman show entitled “Please stare at my butt while I bend over in front of you and show you the contents of my stomach.” Long title I know but it’s a work in progress. After three delightful encores I was finally on an empty tank and so we continued on our scavenger hunt for hotels. Finally Charlie gave up and we ended up at one of his friend’s houses. After paying the driver over one hundred dollars, he opened up his friend’s car and motioned me inside. I stared at him for a long moment before realising this was our ‘hotel’ for the night. If looks could kill I’d be planning his funeral as we speak.
Thank god at that moment his friend opened the front door and invited us in. Even in my inebriated state I could feel his eyes travel from my head to my toes. I would have had to be comatose to miss the hi five that he gave Charlie.

Again, what a bastard.
Finally though, finally I was in bed. In bed and away from his weird sleazy

friend. I was unceremoniously stripped of my jeans and shirt but by that point I really didn’t care. I cuddled up to Charlie and as payback for the disastrous night, I let out a teeny tiny burp right under his nose.

There is nothing more unnerving than waking up after a big night to an excited Asian man hovering over you whilst your head pounds and you desperately try to suppress the need to vomit. Yet wake up to that I did. And before I knew it, that man above me was doing very interesting things to my downstairs area. Even in my hangover glaze I knew this was the part where I was supposed to start making all the moaning and groaning noises and all that nonsense. So I cleared my throat and prepared for the show. I had barely let out the first practise wheeze when he clamped his hand over my mouth. He put a finger to his lips and shook his head. I was outraged. Silent sex? What was I supposed to do now? The only fun I got out of it was seeing if I could get an octave higher each time we did it. So far I was only at my mid range and I was pretty certain with a couple more tries I could surely break some glass with my sultry chords. Needless to say, I was far from impressed with our ‘romantic date.’ Nor was I impressed having to sneak out of the house so Charlie’s friend’s wife wouldn’t find out I had been there. Talk about feeling like a prostitute, and not even a high class one at that.
Of course when I tried to talk to Charlie about how horrible the night had been and how little I appreciated being treated like that, again the discussion dissolved into an argument concerning his convenient lack of English. I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I do well. I started planning our three-month anniversary. When the going gets tough, the tough plan surprises.

Due to lack of funds and lack of living in the city for very long, my anniversary surprise was not my finest hour. I booked us a lovely little motel room that while looking positively sublime on the Internet was lacking even the basics in reality. If I stretched out sideways across the bed my feet and hands could touch the walls either side. Hmm, that rules out Karma Sutra, I thought. Still, I was determined to make the best of things. I had made it to a huge milestone with a boy I liked and who hopefully liked me in return, why shouldn’t I celebrate that? When the special boy arrived I answered the door in my finest silky negligee. His response was exactly what I had hoped for. The jaw drop, the slight gleam in his eyes in anticipation of what was to come, and of course the standard bulge in the pants. I dragged him inside and we had a fairly vanilla romp. Nothing was particularly special about it until things finished up. As soon as Charlie had his little moment, he rolled off me and reached up past my head. My heart skipped a beat. Maybe he had snuck into the room before me and planted a special anniversary gift? Maybe I was about to be showered with a combination of chocolate and rose petals, or even better, chocolate petals! I watched his arm creep towards the bedside table, and I bit my lip in anticipation of the wonderful surprise I was surely about to receive. I squinched my eyes shut, wanting to be truly surprised when the moment came.

And that’s when I heard the television.
The bastard had reached straight for the remote!

After ditching a pillow straight at his fat head I stormed off to the bathroom and had a little cry. It was at that moment that a niggling feeling started creeping it’s way into my brain. Maybe we weren’t right for each other? Maybe… maybe we should break up?

I shook my head quickly to get rid of the nasty thought. All couples had ups and downs and this was just one of ours, right?
I splashed water on my face and opened the door. He was right where I left him, entranced by the late night shopping channel. I sighed inwardly, knowing somehow that tonight would be one of the last we would spend together.

Unexpectedly, the second break up I initiated wasn’t nearly as heartbreaking as the first. In fact, he bloody well deserved what he got in my opinion.
I had tried to put our disastrous anniversary behind us and carry on like a normal functioning couple. We pashed in the cool room, sent naughty texts and snuck in as many cheeky butt grabs at work as possible without the boss noticing, but it was slowly coming to an end.

One night I was feeling a little down and decided a nice stroll by the water with my boyfriend was just the thing to cheer me up. I called Charlie and we arranged to meet. He showed up only twenty minutes late, a fact I was supposed to be grateful for, and we proceeded to take a walk along the river. I wanted to talk to him, to let him know how I was feeling and just for him to listen. I didn’t even really need him to talk; all he needed to do was be there for me. Turns out we think in very different ways. While I tried to get out my feelings, Charlie was scoping out trees big enough for us to do it behind. Every time I would say something and turn to him for advice, he would just wink at me and suggest a way to take my mind off my troubles. Again and again he pulled me off the path and into some bush by the path, or behind a tree. He even tried to get me underneath a park bench. That was the last straw.

Just as he was pushing my head under the seat I batted him away and stood up. He looked puzzled to say the least. I told him right then and there it was over. None of this “it’s not you, it’s me talk,” because lets face it, it was all him. Suddenly everything about him made me angry, annoyed, just bloody infuriated. Especially when he suggested we do it anyway because “goodbye sex” is the best part of a relationship. Needless to say there would be no goodbye sex. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked away. He caught up to me and spun me around, asking if I’d asked him to the park just to break up with him. It was then that I felt a twinge of sympathy for him. Maybe I was being a little harsh. However all that changed when I realised Charlie was discreetly trying to move my hand towards his ever increasing crotch. I looked at him in disgust, snatched my hand back and walked back to my car. I didn’t look back once.

The following weeks at work were hard, but we made it work. It didn’t help that his sister got a job there and though I don’t speak Cambodian, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t asking me to pass the flour when she yelled at me from across the factory. Finally, I made the decision to quit. Apparently less than ten dollars an hour isn’t very good pay. Who knew?

My last day was full of mixed emotions. Joy at being able to stick it to the boss without repercussions. Regret at only just finding his secret stash of Vodka in the mud cake mix just as I was leaving. Safe to say we were not big on health and safety practices at that particular place. And of course, saying goodbye to Charlie. They had just installed cameras in the cool room so there was no chance of having a chat behind the cheesecakes, so we snuck to the lunchroom for our last goodbyes. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I had nothing to worry about. I realised what he was about to say seconds before he said it, and in an effort to re create a movie moment I pressed my finger to his lips to silence him. It didn’t work and in the end I just smacked him over the head until he shut up and let me speak. I told him I wasn’t leaving because we broke up, that I didn’t hate him and that we would stay friends. (Yeah right, because everyone who breaks up remains great friends all the time.) I gave him one last kiss and I walked away from my first job and my first serious boyfriend forever.

The Aftermath: By the time I had finished the last of the six mud cakes I had smuggled out from work, I was well and truly over Charlie. And a good thing too, because not a month after we broke up, I learnt some very interesting news about Charlie. It turned out that my beloved, my deflowerer if you will, had already deflowered someone else. And that someone else was a certain Mrs Charlie. Mrs Charlie lived in Cambodia with their two charming and very well behaved children. Lovely, doting husband Charlie was over in Australia to make money for his family and provide for them. So really it was a good thing I left him, no? He’s got all the time in the world to provide nowadays, now that all that pesky sex isn’t getting in the way. Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

So there you go Lovers. Just remember next time your cringing over the memory of Your First, it could have been so much worse… 😉

Claire xx

Great bonking song: I want it that way

By: Backstreet Boys

Best Used: For that great giggly sex, when you stare deep into each others eyes and then break the moment with    a raspberry. Feel free to sing along as your going at it too!

 

 

 

 

It’s here!

Evening Lovers,

Well, the day has finally arrived, and I’m glad to say mine has gone off generally without a hitch. I had a particularly titillating moment when a man asked me for directions, but that was about as much action as I got. I did however watch Fifty Shades of Grey. And may I just say Lovers, what a disappointment. Not acting wise, or story wise or even music wise. The sex my Lovelies! Where was the sex? And whats more, where was the hardcore sex? It was practically vanilla, with nary a benwa ball or butt plug in sight. Sure he whipped her a little, tied her up occasionally and got her naked a fair bit, but seriously, none of use paid $23.50 for that. We want the sex! We want what the book promised. Sure the book wasn’t great either, and I understand Hollywood has to dumb everything down, but seriously, if you’re going to attempt a movie about hardcore BDSM, don’t give it an M rating. Anything under R is just not going to cut it. And oh yes, more male nudity please. Tits and twats galore but not a twaddlestick to be seen for the full two hours and four minutes.

Not happy Jan.

And so I decided to celebrate this with a little erotica of my own. I’ll be the first to say it’s very pg, but the one thing it does have, is male nudity in all it’s glory.

Enjoy…

“Get over here now!”

Maria winced as Kristen screeched at her from behind the counter. Damn, she’d been trying to stay hidden. With a sigh Maria disentangled herself from the layers of tinsel she was arranging and trudged to the front of the shop.

Kristen wasn’t so bad, on her good days. Unfortunately her good days only consisted of Christmas and her birthday. Today was not one of those days.

“What is this?” she hissed, snatching up tinsel from the counter

“Tinsel?” Maria replied, puzzled. Honestly, the woman was thirty two. You think she’d know the basics by now.

“I’m aware of that young lady.” Kristen bit back, practically sizzling with pent up anger.

“What I’m not aware of, is what it’s doing in my shop during April!”

Maria took a step back as spit flew from Kristen’s mouth in all directions.

“You wanted a festive theme. I thought it would be something a little different.” Maria said tentatively.

“Oh it’s different all right.” Sneered Kristen. God she really could be a bitch when she wanted to be.

“Unfortunately, here at Luscious Ladies with Long Legs we value class and decorum, not tinsel!”

Maria bit back a smile as Kristen mentioned the name of her ‘boutique.’ In actual fact Luscious Ladies with Long Legs was really just a store for ladies who couldn’t fit into much else. Just like Kristen.

“Are you listening to me?”

Maria snapped back to the present as Kristen’s beady eyes bored into her.

“You will fix it, and fix it now. Then you will get your bony little ass out of my shop without pay and without a reference. Do you understand me?”

Maria nodded, trying hard to keep her shocked expression masked as bitch face smirked at her like the cat with the cream.

“Now get back in that window.” She snarled “I’m going to lunch. Watch the shop.”

Maria opened her mouth to ask how to work the till but Kristen swished out the door before she could form the question.

What a cow! Maria sank to the floor, completely dejected. This was her last chance to save her a career and she’d blown it. The Luscious Ladies contract was the final project before she was assessed and without a reference she would never get a real job. Maria just didn’t have the experience that everyone else had, didn’t have the crazy idea’s they managed to come up with. All she’d ever wanted to do was create beautiful shop windows. Something people would pause to look at. Something that would brighten a dark day, even if just for a moment. But that was over now. It looked like she would have to go back to the family business, just like her Mum wanted. Maria shuddered at the thought. De-sexing chickens was a job no human being should ever have to do, let alone full time.

With a jolt Maria was ripped out of her reverie as the tinkle of the door-bell sounded. She scrambled to her feet, smoothing her dress down as she did.

“Welcome to Luscious Ladies with Long…” Maria’s sentence trailed off as she took in the man standing in front of her.

Holy guacamole! He was dressed in a dark tailored suit that fit him like a glove. His shoes were polished to gleaming and laces tied with perfect precision. Maria’s mouth went dry as her gaze roamed hungrily over him.

“Excuse me?” he murmured, and Maria hastily snapped her glazed eyes into focus.

“Sorry.” She stuttered, still trying to get a handle on her reaction to this man. Looking up into his face, she thought she saw the ghost of a smile, but shook her head quickly to get rid of the idea.

“Can I help you?” she asked, confidence slowly returning

“Maybe, yes.” He replied cryptically

Maria frowned. Today’s not the day pal, she thought bitterly as she watched him stroll through the shop.

“Are you after a gift? Something for a friend maybe? Or perhaps,” Maria swallowed “A girlfriend?”

He grinned at her and Maria grabbed onto a hat rack for support. No man should be that dazzling when he smiled.

“No girlfriend.” He replied “Just… looking.”

For a girlfriend or clothes? Maria wondered to herself. When it looked like he was going to be a while Maria headed back to the window to start clearing up the mess she had made. So lost in her work, she didn’t notice mystery hot man above her until he spoke.

“That’s a very interesting display.” He said softly

Maria yelped with surprise and jumped backwards, colliding with him and throwing them both into a pile of extra-long jeans.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” Maria cried, trying to untangle herself from him. He chuckled and helped her up as she slipped back onto him yet again.

She could feel her face going as red as the underwear she so foolishly chose to wore under her white skirt.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, unable to look at him.

“Its fine,” he laughed “Oh and I’ve decided what I’d like.”

“What you like?” Maria frowned. Is he coming on to me? She thought.

“Yes, I’ll get that jacket on the left there.” He replied

“Oh!” Maria blushed another shade darker. Of course he wasn’t flirting with her! He probably just wants to buy his extra-long extra-large jacket and get the hell away from her.

She slid over to the counter with the jacket and fumbled with the till for a moment, willing it to life. It stared back at her, unmoving and blank. Beads of sweat started to form on Maria’s brow as she fervently searched for a button, any button to get the damn thing open. After five minutes she gave up. Peeking up at the gorgeous man in front of her she was surprised to see another one of those stunning grins plastered to his face.

He’s laughing at me! Thought Maria, although she wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or pleased.

“You know what? Just take it. It’s on special anyway and it’s the least I can do for practically assaulting you back there.” She jerked her head towards the window.

“I can’t do that.” He said back, dead serious this time “I don’t take charity.”

“Oh but it’s not-“Maria spluttered

“But,” he cut in “I do trade.” He fished inside his pocket for a moment before handing her a business card.

“Tonight. Six pm at the old town hall. I very much hope to see you there Maria.”

“How did you-” Maria started

He smiled and tapped her name badge.

“Six o’clock. Don’t be late!” he said over his shoulder as he strolled out.

Maria watched him leave, completely bewildered. What just happened? She glanced down at his business card. His name was Li and he was an artist. An artist? He certainly didn’t look like any artist Maria had seen lately. Maybe he charged a lot for his paintings. By the look of his suit he’d have to charge quite a lot.

Maria heard the laboured clip clop of stiletto’s under far too much pressure and knew Kristen was on her way back. Stowing the business card and thoughts of Li away she hurried back to the window.

The day dragged. After finishing the window and re-doing it in bland white, Maria was drained. Watching Kristen purr lovingly to all the customers made her stomach turn. If only they knew, she thought to herself. Finally the day was over and Maria was released from all things extra-long and extra-large. She walked home slowly, dumped her bags at the door and went straight to the bathroom. Nothing like a good bath to cure a bad day. As she sank into the hot water her mind drifted. Drifted straight to a certain stranger with almond eyes and kissable lips…

Stop it! Maria frowned. How could one man get under her skin so much? And why? Yes he was attractive, very attractive, but then so were a lot of other men. So why did she feel such a thrill when she thought about Li? There was only one way to find out.

Maria stepped out of the bath, sloshing water everywhere in her haste. She ran to her bedroom, threw on a dress and hunted for her shoes. Once located, she ran out the door, sprinting in heels towards the town hall. He said not to be late! She thought to herself. Oh well, better late than never. Maria grinned idiotically and surged forward, seeing the hall up ahead. Finally she burst through the doors, panting like a donkey trying to run the Melbourne Cup.

A few curious women turned to look at her but luckily most people were chatting animatedly to each other and didn’t notice her incongruous entry. After taking a few moments to compose herself , Maria surveyed the room. It was filled with about twenty people. Scratch that, twenty women. Odd, thought Maria. Surely men would be interested in art too, especially if Li was as good as he seemed to be. She shrugged and scanned the room for a free easel. Spying one in the corner Maria made a beeline for it. As she did so, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Oh God no! Staring back at her was a young girl in an enormous moo moo. In her hurry to get dressed, she had thrown on her one and only dress from Luxurious Ladies! Kristen had insisted on paying her in goods one week so she now had an entire drawer devoted to nanna knickers and this one dress. How could she have been so stupid? Glancing around Maria desperately looked for an exit, but she had well and truly backed herself into a corner. She noticed a few snide looks from the other ladies but chose to ignore them. Suddenly, inspiration struck. Digging into the enormous pockets of the dress, Maria found what she was looking for. She dove into her purse, hurriedly looking for her nail scissors and almost cried out in triumph when she found them. Keeping her elation on the down low, she hurriedly cut the fabric in her hand into one long strip. Discarding the rest behind her, Maria hurriedly wrapped the material around herself and formed a makeshift belt. Assessing herself in the mirror, Maria frowned. It wasn’t great, but at least she had given herself some semblance of a waist. Making sure no one was watching, Maria gave herself a conspiritual wink in the mirror. No one would ever know that her now belt was once an enormous pair of underwear.

Turning back to her easel, Maria tried to calm herself and take stock of her situation.

In the centre of the room sat a bowl of fruit. Wow, what an exciting hour this is going to be. Maria scoffed to herself, suddenly feeling very confident in her nanna belt. All that confidence whooshed straight out of her when she saw him.

“Ladies, take your places please.” His voice echoed smoothly through the hall, reverberating all the way up to the high ceiling.

Curiously, he was wearing the coat she had sold- well sort of sold him that very day. He walked around the room, chatting to a few ladies here and there, totally at ease. When he approached her however, something in his demeanour abruptly changed. Where he was open and friendly with the other girls, he was cagey and stiff around Maria. What is his problem? She thought in frustration. Right then and there she decided to draw the best damn fruit bowl he had ever seen. Yes, she thought, nodding to herself, stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

Li assumed his position in the centre of the room. All eyes were trained intently on him. He looked around the room, pausing occasionally to look at a chosen few before launching into his speech.

It was the usual spiel, how to create shapes with the charcoal pens, shading, light and darkness blah blah blah. Mariah was captivated. Every move he made, the fluid motion of his arm sliding across the page as he drew. She didn’t realise she was holding her breath until he looked at her. Then it awkwardly came out in a rush, making a sound like a deflated balloon. Maria wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Li smiled his sympathy at her and for a moment she felt just a tiny bit better.

Suddenly Li clapped his hands and announced it was time to begin. Maria nervously picked up her charcoal and started on her fruit bowl, laboriously drawing it exactly to scale. She was almost finished her outline when she finally registered all the soft giggling that was issuing from all around her. She looked up, and her jaw dropped.

He was naked!

Jesus Mary and Joseph’s Holy House of Tinsel! Mariah gaped at him, completely nude, and by the look on his face, quite proud of it. What planet was she on? The piece of charcoal she had been holding slipped out of her hand and clattered to the floor. Li looked over at the sudden noise and Mariah ducked to the floor to retrieve it. As she did she smacked her head into her easel, knocking it to the floor with a crash.

“Shit!” she cried out loud. When she looked up, a naked Li was running straight for her. “I’m fine!” she shrieked, trying to scare him and his shockingly naked figure away from her “It’s all good! I’m fine!” She repeated, trying to right her easel once more. Li slowed down to a walk and padded up to her.

“You ok?” he asked

Maria couldn’t look at him. Where the hell was she supposed to look? She definitely knew where she wanted to look. Don’t you dare, her subconscious screamed at her. She stared straight ahead, immersed in the blank sheet of paper in front of her. She could feel a red flush creeping up her neck towards her face and willed him to go away so she could die in peace.

Thankfully he got the hint and with one more concerned glance at her he strolled back to the middle of the room. Maria tried to get a hold of herself. This was not what she signed up for! It’s better. Whispered a little voice inside her head. Maria sternly kicked the thought out and resolutely picked up her charcoal. He wants me to draw him? Fine, I’ll draw him. She thought wickedly

Starting in the left hand corner she drew a crude stick figure of Li with enormous hands and feet. Giggling to herself she then drew a sumo version of him, with fat over flowing everywhere. Oh yes, this is what she called art. Maria snuck a peek at the ladies next to her and was slightly sobered by the fact that all the other women were drawing very lifelike, very well drawn pictures of Li.

Suddenly Li clapped his hands again and changed positions to ‘The Thinker’ pose. Oh she could think of many a thing she’d like to do to him right now. Damn it Maria just draw! Her inner voice chided.

She took a deep breath and, trying to remember the earlier lesson, started to draw. Once she got the hang of it is was fairly easy. She followed the smooth contours of his back, up his neck to his head, then down the front across his stomach to his delicious looking snail trail and then… Then she stopped. How was she supposed to draw that? Tricky. Very Tricky. The earlier lesson suddenly sprang to mind. Li had said something about picturing objects as just shapes, then tweaking the shapes as you drew. Maria glanced at Li and then at the fruit bowl. A pineapple maybe? An unladylike snort escaped her mouth as she pictured it. How uncomfortable! Trying to control herself, Maria contented herself with a banana and two grapes. It was a toss-up between the grapes and some mandarins, but the grapes won her over with how fresh and ripe they looked.

Ever so slowly. She tried to draw the complicated male anatomy. Good god it was difficult. Gently gently, she traced up his left thigh then down his right, feeling a slight flush colour her cheeks as she did so. She felt so naughty!

Without warning Li clapped his hands twice. Maria was startled out of her erotic reverie and with a squeak of dismay, realised in her fright her charcoal hand had slipped down the page, giving Li quite the endowment.

Crap. She thought. It had all been going so well. Maria shrugged and tried to turn to her next page. The clip holding it in place was as stiff as Maria had drawn Li and she struggled to budge it even a little.

Suddenly, she realised Li was not in the middle of the room any more. With a sinking feeling she searched the room for him and to her horror, saw that he was walking around to inspect people’s drawings!

No! No! No! Her brain screamed. He was about to see what a messed up pervert she was! Maria lunged onto her easel, pulling and tugging at the clip, desperately trying to open it. All the while Li edged closer. Come on! She cried to herself. Abandoning the clip she scrabbled for the top of the paper, attempting to rip the page off completely. He was two steps away, one step away-

Kill me now.

“How did you go Maria?” Li asked from behind her. She could hear the smile in his voice as she stood in front of her easel, trying to block his view.

“It’s all right Maria.’ He said with a chuckle “Everyone has to start somewhere. We can’t all be Picasso’s straight off.”

Maria looked up at him, mortified. This was just not her day. You should have stayed in the bath pervy. Her subconscious sneered at her.

She sighed, and knowing there was nothing more she could do, stepped back to let him see the picture.

Just looking at his face told Maria all she needed to know. She grabbed her bag and ran. God she was so stupid! Tears of shame ran down her face as she ran.

She heard a cry from behind her but didn’t look back. She would stay in her house forever and never see anyone again. She would become an expert at all things Judge Judy, Doctor Phil and Ellen. Switch off her phone and make a fish bowl out of her computer. Yes, hermit Maria had quite the ring to it.

Just as she was thinking how to board up her windows she stumbled and fell hard onto the road.

Son of a bitch! Maria wasn’t sure if she said that out loud or in her head, but she did know it hurt. A lot. Picking herself up she went to walk on, but her heel was jammed into the bitumen. Damn, she sighed. Yanking her leg, Maria tried to pull herself free, but her foot wouldn’t budge.

“Come on!” she yelled in frustration. And that’s when she heard the noise.

She turned to the left and coming down the hill was a big, no huge, blue rubbish truck. What was even more terrifying was the big red man chasing after it. The driver.

Maria screamed and frantically pulled at her leg. The truck came closer and closer, building up speed as it went. No, it couldn’t end like this, it just couldn’t, not with nanna undies wrapped around her waist!

Suddenly all the air whooshed out of her as she was propelled off the road and onto the footpath.

She landed with a thud onto the concrete, bruised but alive. She tried to get up but something was holding her down. As it turned out, not something, but someone.

“Gerrofme.” She grunted, struggling for air as that someone pressed down on her.

“Sorry!” cried a familiar voice.

“Li?” Maria sat up and looked at her rescuer, noting as she did so the crowd of people still running down the street after the truck as it whooshed past.

“Are you all right?” he asked, taking her back to that morning in the shop.

“You- you saved me.” She breathed

“You looked like you could use a hand.” He smiled gently at her and held his hand out to help her up.

“I’m sorry about the picture.” She stammered “I didn’t mean to draw that um, what I drew, that is, well you know.” Maria trailed off, not sure what to say as the enormity of what had just happened started to sink in.

Li laughed and gave her shoulder a little squeeze “Happens all the time in my line of work. Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

“Or the big.” Mumbled Maria, still embarrassed. “Why did you come after me?” she asked quietly

“I couldn’t let you get away again.” He said solemnly

“Again?” she asked, puzzled

Li sighed, and then it was his turn to look embarrassed.

“I did some mural painting for an erotic novel store a few months ago,” he began, and Maria tried hard to hold back her smirk at the thought of Li painting in a porn shop.

“It was in a small shopping complex with all sorts of stores thrown in. Anyway, I was directly across from a ladies shoe store-“

Maria clapped a hand to her mouth as realization struck.

“High Heeled Hotties.” She gasped

“That’s right.” Said Li. His eyes suddenly turned wistful “There was this girl in the window one day. She was struggling with this huge papier-mache shoe, trying to get it above her head” Li chuckled, a soft sound from deep in his throat. “She was so determined to get it done, and I just couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.”

Maria watched on as he became serious again.

“She was so beautiful. Everything about her was perfect. The way she moved, the frustration on her face as she fought with that damned shoe, and then the dazzling smile that appeared when she finally finished.”

“Me?” Mariah breathed. “You thought all that about me?”

“How could I not?” said Li, pulling her a little closer “I decided right then and there that I had to meet you. Even if you were married, had a boyfriend or thirty six crazy cats I just had to talk to you. But the next day, you were gone. And honestly Maria, it’s as if I wasn’t the same person anymore. My world had been rocked and now that you weren’t a part of it any more it wasn’t worth much at all. I didn’t know where to find you, didn’t even know where to start. I asked in the store but they didn’t know where your next job would be. I thought about you for weeks. Actually it was a bit embarrassing thinking about you in some of my classes if you know what I mean.” He grinned and Maria blushed furiously.

“But then today I just happened to have lunch at this café. A café I’d never been to before and there you were. As frustrated as ever, wrapped in tinsel with some witch shouting at you. When she left I couldn’t stay away, and after I met you, you were even more amazing than I could have ever imagined. Your laugh, your crazy habit of blushing every two seconds and that sparkle in your eye, it was all so intoxicating. Then I saw you about to get cleaned off the road by some truck and my heart almost stopped.” Li stepped closer again, effectively eliminating any space between them. Maria could feel his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Good god, he was the intoxicating one, not her. She had to resist the urge to wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his shoulder.

“Maria,” he said softly “you would make me the happiest man alive if you would let me take you to dinner.” Maria giggled, letting all the tension from the day flow out of her as she did.

“I’ll go to dinner with you Li,” she said “But I was wondering if I could ask a favour.”

“Anything.” He said, smiling down at her

“I do window displays for a living, and it’s always been my dream to do a little ‘living art.’ Think you might be interested?”

She watched as Li grasped the idea of what she was proposing.

“Which shop?” he asked, a bemused look on his face

“A little place called Luscious Ladies with Long Legs.” She said conspiritually

Li Grinned “Done deal pretty lady.”

Maria whooped with delight and threw her arms around him. She couldn’t wait to see Kristen’s face when she showed her the new ‘window treatment’.

“Come on, let’s get back to class before they think you’ve kidnapped me.” Li said, taking her hand.

Maria swatted him playfully on the shoulder before sliding her hand into his.

And so they walked back to the hall, Mariah the perfect girl, with her perfect artist boyfriend…. Who was still butt naked.

The End

Happy Valentines Lovers! And may you find naked men aplenty tonight!

Claire xx

Alternative Words

Sex = Give her a beef injection          Penis = Ankle Spanker               Breasts = Shirt Puppies

It’s a love fest!

Afternoon Lovers,

And a happy Monday to us all! (Blurgh) Don’t fret though my pretty little peeps, I have yet another exciting Valentine’s story for you. 🙂 This one is all about how after great heartbreak, can come a surprising amount of happiness. Enjoy Lovers, and I hope it perks up your day a little!

A flurry of movement startled Gabrielle awake. She struggled to regain her composure as the couple walked in. She groaned inwardly as they joined hands and gazed at each other as they browsed the brochures. Newlyweds. Could there be anything more soul destroying? Tapping her hands against the keyboard in an attempt to look busy, Gabby’s mind began to wander back to happier times. Alejandro had been every woman’s dream. Unfortunately he knew it, and made every attempt to make as many lucky ladies dreams come true. With long blonde hair, stunning pectorials and hands so beautifully manicured he could make grown men cry with just a brush of his soft fingertips, he was everything she wanted and more. She smiled as she remembered what else he could do with those hands. He would undo her dress slowly, whispering Spanish nothings in her ear. It turned out those words of love had been the MacDonald’s menu in it’s entirety. She just thought the Spanish used the term Mc to express love, so you can imagine how often he told her he loved her. She closed her eyes, trying to block out those times, all those moments she said she loved him, and he had only uttered two large mcflurries and a coke back.

The couple approached the counter and Gabby shuffled her papers officiously, noting now that the computer was in fact not turned on. Damn electricity bills. Her travel shop had been heading steadily downhill after her break up with Alejandro. Probably due to the fact that she had taken seventy two sick days in a row. When you work for yourself that type of thing really takes it’s toll.

The man bent forward to ask a question and she caught a hint of his cologne. It wafted up her treacherous nostrils and went straight to her tear ducts, forcing her duck under the table for a moment to search for her ‘pen.’ Alejandro had been quite the entrepreneur, and his perfume Rub It Slow was one of the best sellers through out the country. It seemed every where she went his musk was destined to follow.

When she resurfaced a good three and a half minutes later, the couple looked at her bemused. A quick mirror check confirmed that not only was her mascara running, but a good smear of dribble was running from her chin down to her neck.

Gabrielle grimaced, but knew she’d used all the tissues trying to subtly stuff her bra in the miniscule chance Alejandro would sweep through the doors in the shirt she bought him, sweep her off her feet and carry her out of the tourism industry forever.

She tried to focus as the man began to talk, but his words wouldn’t compute. The woman next to him was clearly getting frustrated and it was all Gabby could do not to smack her back to last Monday.

Rage apparently was one of Gabrielle’s coping methods, or at least that’s what her therapist said.

Apparently the happy couple were planning their honeymoon and wanted to fly somewhere oh so romantic and secluded to while away their days with sex and spa baths. Gabby knew it was wrong, but booking two one way tickets to Guam was just too satisfying to pass up. After waving the couple out and assuring them of the unique qualities of their destination, Gabby returned to her desk and sank into her chair, completely dejected.

She craved adventure, danger and just a little spark in her hum drum life. Alejandro had given her that. Africa, Rome, Paris, America, he had called her from every destination, describing it so well for her that she felt as though she was really there with him. He always promised he would take her with him one day, but he had to give his complimentary tickets to his sisters first. As soon as one of them couldn’t make it though, he would take her. He promised. A tear slid down her cheek as she remembered catching him being an all too caring brother to three of his ‘sisters’ in the V.I.P lounge at the airport.

Gabrielle swiped her tears away, determined not to cry over him anymore. She had just decided on the number of cats she would buy that night when the door blew open. She lifted her head, mouth already half open to tell whoever it was that they were closed, and that’s when she saw him.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph’s holy house of tinsel! He was gorgeous! Everything about him screamed stunning and Gabby had to shift in her chair lest she get stuck to the seat. He strolled in, thumbing through catalogues in a nonchalant manner.

Nothing about Gabby’s thoughts were nonchalant at that moment. He was sex on legs. Nobody had made her feel like this since Alejandro. He took another step and adjusted his shirt in the heat. Never had Gabby praised the scorching heat so much as she did now. She resisted the urge to lick his neck as a small bead of sweat rolled down to nestle in the soft brush of his chest hair. Trying not to draw attention to herself, Gabby scuttled into the back room, snatching up her battery fan before sliding back behind the counter. She placed it on the desk, stealing glances at him as she did. Switching it on she stood in front of it, letting the cool air billow through her silk blouse. It felt heavenly and Gabby knew it was working wonders on drying the sweat marks under her arms. After working a tissue from her bra, she swiped at her face, cleaning all traces of spit, mascara and Ferrero Rocher off her skin.

Gabby’s pulse quickened as he approached the counter. Her knees quivered and her once dormant loins awoke with a fire that practically set her underwear alight.

“Morning.” He drawled. Good God. His voice melted on her ears like butter, and she found herself craving pancakes. Pancakes in bed. Pancakes in bed with him. Naked Pancakes. In fact, skip the pancakes.

“Hello.” She blurted out, aware that her pancake thoughts may be showing all to well on her face.

“I need to get away.” He said matter of factly.

“Where would you like to go?” she asked, licking her lips in anticipation.

“You choose.” He said, sending her a crooked smile that made her nipples stand on end.

She blushed, moving away from the fan so he wouldn’t see the affect he was having on her.

“Can I just say,” he started “ That you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” Gabby just stared, open mouthed. The fan blew onto him, making his hair sway in the breeze it created, turning him from delicious stranger to godlike being not of this earth.

“I’m sorry, you must be married right? Lucky guy.”

“No!” Gabby yelled, before realising her faux pa. Way to play it smooth, she thought to herself.

She cleared her throat. “No, I’m not married.” She said, a little calmer this time.

“Boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No!”

“Just checking.” He chuckled, a throaty sound that bubbled up from his chest. Perfection.

And that’s when it all happened. He leaned towards her, ever so slowly, hands placed firmly on the counter. Gabby stayed perfectly still, hoping for a kiss, but knowing it wouldn’t come.

Oh it came. He pressed his lips to hers ever so gently, cupping her cheek with his hand as he did so. He softly eased her lips apart before his tongue invaded her inviting mouth. It was heaven. Never had Gabby been kissed like this. His hands made her want to melt as they caressed her face, her neck, her shoulders. She could have cried, overwhelmed at his tenderness. She realised she never wanted this moment to end. And that’s when she smelt it.

“What cologne are you wearing?” she asked, breaking the divine kiss

“I don’t wear cologne.” He replied

“Perfect.” She whispered, as they closed in for another mouth ravishing.

When they came up for air he clasped her hands.

“Come with me.” He gasped

“Why?” she asked “You don’t even know me.”

“Because I can’t not know you. “ he whispered, brushing his fingertips across her lips. “Ten minutes in your company and I want nothing more than to spend every second with you. I feel complete”

Gabby smiled, and it felt as though the cobwebs had fallen. She hadn’t smiled in months, and now, it was all she could do to stop.

“What’s your name?” she asked

“Adam.” He replied

“Then I suppose I must be Eve.”

“Wait, seriously?” he asked

“No.” she said, a little miffed that he had ruined the mood. She smiled wickedly as she thought about how she would punish him later on.

She grabbed her bag, giddy with elation.

“Where should we go?” Adam asked, as they burst through the doors.

“Anywhere but Guam.”

The End

Now I’m definitely in the holiday mood! Until next time Lovers, keep the libido alive!

Claire xx

Great bonking song: Goodbye Stranger

By: Supertramp

Best Used: For sweet sweet afternoon delight!

Sickly sweet and sticky dreams

Hi there and hello my Lovely Lovertons!

The day is looming up large and loathe-some. Paper-mache hearts adorn every shop window and street corner. Starry eyed teenagers long for their first secret admirer and long term relationships suffer the monetary turmoil of how much is too much? That’s right lovers, it’s almost Valentines Day.

Those who are coupled up and cosy this Saturday will scoff and say things like “Oh we never celebrate, every day is Valentines day for us.”

Excuse me while I wash the vomit out of my mouth with another shot of vodka.

Everyone gets sucked into Valentines day, whether we are single, coupled or yet to decide. There is literally no escaping it, even if you try. Seriously, you try and book a holiday around this day and everything is on special for those damn couples. Luckily most bars have fabulous two for one offers so you are able to drown your sorrows much cheaper than a regular Saturday.

I am sadly one of the many girls who has never received a rose. And you know what? It doesn’t bother me at all. Until February 14th that is. Something about this day makes even the most sensible of us sign up for Valentines speed dating or drag ourselves to the closest bar in hopes of getting a cheeky snog. Just so we can tell all the couples to shove their cuddling and trump it with hot stranger sex. (Which normally turns out to be quite the soggy limp affair after the amount of champagne consumed takes effect of both of you.)

So why can’t this day be what we want it to be? This year I have decided to take charge of my Valentines day. I have my vibrator. I have my pack of Tim Tam’s and I have my box set of Sex and the City. Oh yes, this will be a day to remember 😉

But I haven’t forgotten the romantic side of old Val’s Day, which is why this week instead of re-telling my dating dodginess, I’m going to share a few stories of how I think love should be. They are all fictional of course (things rarely turn out this perfectly) but I love to write them with the hope that one day my sexy, smart, well dressed, hilarious and well endowed prince will come. (Hopefully not all over my face)

So enjoy Lovers, and let your fantasies take life!

It was a warm summers day in Louisiana. Clara fidgeted in her store bought corset as she rode. The costume party earlier had been a blast, and Clara’s extra touch of entering via horseback had firmly secured her first prize. She had certainly shown that pathetic Pocahontas try-hard a thing or two about committing to a role.

As she trotted through the dense foliage, Clara pondered who exactly she would take to her well deserved and rightly won dinner date. It was at one of the fanciest places in town, so she couldn’t very well take her Dad again. She sighed. It seemed she had everything in life but the perfect man. She’d had relationships of course, but nothing to write home about, which was what she was forced to do when the boredom of her life threatened to overcome her. Clara dug her heels in a little more and Pansy her horse sped up a little. The less time spent thinking the better, that was her motto.

All of sudden Pansy let out a little whinny. Clara knew better than to ignore her horse and her eyes scanned the tree-line, looking for anything amiss.

From behind her she heard footsteps and she swung Pansy around to face whoever was approaching.

Three pirates emerged from the brush and Clara had to bite her lip to stop from giggling. She had just been speaking to the men a few hours earlier. Admittedly all the champagne she had drunk may have loosened her lips a little about her trust fund, private yacht and townhouse, but they were all friends right?

Besides, it would just be far too ironic to be robbed by a bunch of pirates!

Turns out not so much, as one of the men drew his plastic sword, scowling and attempting to look menacing.

Clara laughed and waved a hello at them as she turned Pansy back around and trotted towards home.

Her heart did a little flip as she heard the men break into a run, but she maintained her composure and didn’t turn.

A shot rang out and Clara screamed as the bullet flew ever so dramatically just past her cheek.

Pansy bucked and kicked, terrified by the noise. Clara turned, and saw the pirates gaining fast. She kicked Pansy into a gallop and reached into her saddle bag to pull out the .48 Magnum she always carried. (The gun not the icecream) Firing off a few warning shots behind her she tried to scare them off. Unfortunately this just invited them to shoot at her with even more enthusiasm. She pulled the trigger again, attempting to aim this time, but the gun just clicked. It was empty! She cursed, remembering how she was showing off with it at the party. She threw the gun at them, hoping it would hit one of them, knowing of course it wouldn’t. The whole saying throws like a girl stemmed straight from her, and as she suspected, the gun clattered uselessly the dirt. About four seconds later some very un – ladylike words exploded from Clara’s mouth as she remembered the spare bullets in her purse. She tried to breathe evenly though as steadily the distance between herself and the men grew, and when she felt they were far enough away she turned to face the road again.

Just in time to be collected by a low hanging tree branch.

It struck her straight in the stomach, and Clara flew several metres through the air before skidding to a halt on the dirt.

She gasped, completely winded. Clara tried to call out to her horse, but it looked like Pansy was really living up to his name today as his tail disappeared into the brush.

She gathered her billowy skirts to her, hoping the thousands of layers of silk and chiffon would make her look much bigger than she actually was.

This was just too ridiculous. Being chased on horseback by pirates? She must be dreaming.

But as they began to close in on her, plastic swords at the ready, newly dry-cleaned costumes practically glistening in the sunlight, she began to fear that this may indeed be the end for Clara Bechamel.

And that was when The Hulk swung in.

Clara watched, mouth agape, as a beautifully painted green man jumped from a tree branch onto one of the pirates. He was magnificent. One punch to each of the pirates and they were down. His body paint started to smear as sweat poured down him from his exertions. Clara liked. Clara liked a lot.

When finally the last of the pirates was out, Mr Hulk, or should we say, Mr Hunk, approached her.

Clara tried to compose herself, but failed miserably when she realised the mans costume was in fact entirely comprised of body paint, and in hot weather like this was sliding off him like ice cream left out of the freezer. Ice cream that she could eat all day. Stop it! She screamed to herself, shaking her head crossly.

“Are you hurt?” the stunning Adonis before her asked. Clara slowly raised her head and before she knew it, her eyes had locked with his.

Blue eyes, lush brown hair and with chin stubble she could practically grate parmesan on, he was absolute perfection.

Words failed her, but as if they had but one mind, he came and sat beside her, easing an arm ever so slowly around her shaking shoulders.

“Thankyou.” She whispered to him, ashamed of the wobble in her voice. She hadn’t realised just how terrified she had been.

“You’re very welcome.” He said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Clara inhaled deeply and was rewarded with the tangy mix of body paint and his musky man scent. She could stay like this forever.

“I suppose we’d better get you home.” He said after a time.

Clara nodded, saddened that her magic moment was so soon to be over. He eased her up onto her feet, never straying far from her side. He seemed as drawn to her as she was to him. Like some powerful magnet prevented them from being separated.

“Where do you live?” he asked, his hand still resting on her shoulder, it’s heat burning right through to Clara’s skin.

Clara flicked her head in the direction of her house, remembering the cold empty rooms, void of any life but for her and her pets.

She noticed a change in his demeanour and gazed up at him, drinking in his beautiful green features.

“What is it?” she asked nervously

“ I believe you’ll find you’ve got yourself a new neighbour.” He grinned

Clara’s jaw dropped and before she could get a hold of herself she threw herself into his arms.

“Have I got a housewarming for you!” she cried

He laughed, his deep chuckle resonating through the tree’s.

Clara let her feet drop back to the ground but didn’t release her hold on him. His arm circled her waist and with the other he tilted her chin up to meet his mouth in a deep, warm kiss.

Clara’s legs failed her, and had it not been for his support, she would have fallen. But he held her tight, as unwilling to let go of her as she was to leave him.

They finally broke apart as a soft whinny issued from the trees to their left. Pansy broke through the trees and sheepishly approached Clara. She ran over to him, cradling his head in her hands, overjoyed to see him back.

When she turned back around her green saviour was looking at her with a strange intensity.

“What?” she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“ It’s you.” He said “I want to know everything about you. You-” he looked around, searching for the words. “You completely mystify me, and yet I can see myself marrying you tomorrow.”

Clara snorted and clamped a hand to her mouth in embarrassment.

He smiled, clearly abashed.

“We’ll just start with names. I’m Ben.”

Clara looked at him, knowing she had finally found what she had been searching for.

She held her hand out playfully for him to kiss.

“I’m Clara.”

He walked forward, bending down to kiss her hand before sweeping her legs off the ground.

“ I believe we should get to know each other better.” He said “ What do you suggest?”

“Well,” said Clara slowly “I do just happen to have a dinner voucher…”

He laughed that beautiful laugh, and as he carried her off into the sunset, his green paint smudging her pristine white corset, the last thing on her mind was dry cleaning…

Love you long time!

Claire xx

Pick up line of the day: How much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice!

Birthday Bonking Part Deux

Ah the joy of Mondays! (Said no one ever) Don’t worry Lovers, Monday is shit no matter whether you’re single, coupled up or living a little too closely with your trio of cats. But not to worry my sexy smurfettes! (and Mr smurfs to any brave enough to read) I have the tail end of the birthday bonk to get too! If it doesn’t give you a giggle, it’s sure to make you thankful you haven’t had such an experience yourself lately (or have you?)

Alrightey then!

Freshly flushed, I walked quickly out of the bathrooms, taking a wide berth of Ol’ Spewy McVomitson, who was still sobbing in the corner with her very good, but now very stained and smelly best friend.

I gave her such a wide berth that the door suddenly shifted places and I found myself face to face with a very inhospitable brick wall. And so it was that I bumped into my sex man again, dazed, possibly concussed and with quite the impressive graze covering a large part of my forehead.

Apparently my boy liked his ladies a little confused, as he sidled up to me almost as soon as I was upright again.

“Hi there,” he drawled.

“Sup.” I replied, not trusting myself with more than one syllable.

“Having a good night?” he asked, a slow grin spreading across his features like a cheshire cat. A sexy cheshire cat. A sexy cheshire cat who was going to make me purr whether he liked it or not.

Good god! What were these thoughts? How many Masturbating Butterflies was too many? (Don’t worry I’ll include the recipe at the bottom so you can make them at home. Or just ask your bartender and watch as they try and wrap their head around it.)

I decided to throw caution to the wind and answered him with “I am now. Would you like to come home with me?”

I watched as the cheeky smile turned into a smoulder. Just to be sure though I added, ” You know, to have sex… With me.”

That seemed to do the trick, as we were up and out of the club before I could say screaming orgasm. Luckily Amy was the saintliest of all friends and gave me the privacy of the apartment for an hour. We walked hand in hand towards home, stopping in at a local 7/11 on the way.

“I just gotta get some smokes.” he said simperingly. Urgh, I thought, I didn’t know he was a smoker. Then again, I didn’t know his name, age or specific gender, so who was I to judge? On the plus side, while he bought his nasty cigarettes, I put my newly discovered twenty cents to good use and purchased a Redskin. If I had known that would be the highlight of the night I would have dropped him and run back to the club right there and then. Sadly hindsight is a beautiful thing, and only shows it’s bloody annoying head the next morning when you’re already thoroughly fucked.

And so I got him back to the apartment. I do recall us swapping names at some point on the walk home, but my Redskin was proving to be much more fascinating than him so it may have slipped my mind as soon as he said it. I like to remember him as simply, Sydney Boy. Or SB for short. As SB and I entered the room it was suddenly on for young and old. (Literally, as it turned out he was only eighteen. Whoops…)

I ripped off his shirt as he peeled of my dress. I smelt the faint waft of regurgitated cocktail rise up to meet me as the bottom of my dress passed by my nose, but I just had to hope he thought it was the room and not me.

I pushed him onto the bed  and set about finding exactly where that dragon tattoo went. He grabbed my hair and yanked me up to his mouth where we shared our first impassioned kiss. Thank god he could kiss! I silently chastised myself for not doing proper research at the club but soon forgot my faux-pas as we went into downtown territory.

He dived first, as a gentleman should. As usual though I wasn’t very enthused. It’s just boring! If I ever find a man who can get me excited about having him dine downstairs I will never let him go. Hell, I’ll invite him in for the five course degustation. But until then, the only excitement I get out of the ol cunnilingus is getting a very detailed look at the ceiling. You really can get lost in counting tiles you know.

Eventually I dragged him back up to me and I slid down to reciprocate the favour. I slowly traced around his Ren and Stimpy boxers (Seriously? Are you eighteen or eight dude?) and slipped my finger into his waistband. Then, with mounting excitement, I unwrapped my birthday present.

Happy fucking birthday, my ass. He actually probably could have done me up the ass and I wouldn’t have felt it. Why God why? Have I been a bad girl this year? No wait, that’s Santa. Argh! Death to the maker and his penchant for small penises! I held back a whimper of disappointment as I saw what I’d be working with. My god, it could have been a garnish on my last cocktail it was so tiny!

I sat back for a moment and gave myself a pep talk. I had been given the gift of sex on my birthday, and now I must accept it. There is no such thing as a refund policy when they are lying sprawled in front of you, legs akimbo, tackle wobbling around in  the air conditioning breeze.

This was going to happen, and by god I was going to make it good!

“Have you got any… protection?” I asked quietly. He looked at me blankly. I sighed and headed for my bag. It wasn’t his fault, his class probably hadn’t learnt about condoms in school yet.

I grabbed a condom out and started rolling it on. For some reason though it wasn’t going on as smoothly as usual. It was as if there was no lube on it. Very strange. I finally got it on but something looked wrong. It was incredibly tight around his penis, and I could see his veins at the base start to bulge. For a moment I entertained the idea of leaving it on and seeing if the swelling would make it any bigger, but that was just cruel.

With a snap I flicked it off and examined it for a moment. That’s when it dawned on me.

In bar-tending, as in many hospitality or food based jobs, there are special gloves your use when you cut your finger. You put a band-aid over the cut, and then you place what is essentially just the finger of a latex glove over the top of your finger to keep the plaster dry and in place.

I had just tried to put a finger condom on SB’s penis. And it had almost fit.

Seriously Santa what the hell did I do this year? Gah!

I hunted around in my bag for a real condom and popped that on him, noticing the significant amount of wriggle room he had in it. With a sigh I laid back and let him do his best. My heart just wasn’t in it anymore. I made the noises and the faces and tried not to fart when he unexpectedly slapped my ass, but there was nothing more I could really do. I mean what would you do if someone was essentially fingering you with a baby carrot for the better part of twenty minutes?

Neither of us came. (Suprise suprise) and when he eventually rolled off I felt nothing but relief. I watched sleepily as he got dressed, Ren and Stimpy finally back where they belonged, hidden from sight.

“Thanks babe.” he said

“Uh huh.” I mumbled, barely conscious.

“I’m heading back to the club, you coming?”

“Um no. It’s five o’clock and they shut in an hour so I’m good. You go though.” Please, please go, I thought to myself. Take your massive ego and your tiny penis and find a lovely older lady who will teach you how to actually use the gherkin.

As he walked out the door and I faded into a drunken coma, my last thought was, I wonder if we’re doing ham or chicken for Christmas this year?

Hope you enjoyed Lovers! Plenty more where that came from! Oh and as promised, the Masturbating Butterfly recipe!

Masturbating Butterfly
20ml Absolut Vodka
20ml Midori Melon Liqueur
20ml Jagermeister Herbal Liqueur
20ml Sprite
20ml sweet and sour mix
Pour Midori, Absolut, and sour mix into a glass on the rocks. Splash with Sprite. With a spoon turned scoop side down, float your shot of Jagermeister on top.

Try it at home! Mmmm delish!

Till next time my gorgeous peeps!

Claire xx

Pick up line of the week: Do you believe in love at first sight? Or should I walk past again?