I opened the door to the shop, I recognised the body standing behind the counter but not the woman who had his cock in his mouth. ‘Hello’, he whispered at me, I smiled and came closer.

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She was on the bus, she caught my eye, and I felt I had seen her before. She oozed sensuality, that was what I thought when I saw her, the truth was I was captivated, my eyes couldn’t leave her, it was more than just sex, it was Cleopatra, Helen of Troy, Eve, Wallis Simpson; a woman that men left their minds for; then it was too late. There she was sitting on my bus.

Mistress Cristal is a 30 year old Professional Online and Phone Dominatrix, with a strict no-nonsense attitude and 6 years of experience in the BDSM scene.
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The London Festival of the Art of Japanese Bondage, 25-28 June, will be totally unique. We are keen to promote kinbaku (aka shibari/Japanese rope bondage) as an artistic inspiration, a performance art in its own right and as a means of erotic communication, whilst sharing knowledge about it and its cultural context.

Des O’Connor, in association with Blond Ambition Events and Ministry of Burlesque, is proud to present New York's Finest, featuring Mr. Choade's Travelling Amusement in the Last Days of Decadence!

It was a very hot day in the hills of Hollywood and Steven was driving his Rolls with the top down, just cruising the streets trying to catch the breeze in the summer air. He was wearing skin tight Levis and a white shirt, two top buttons undone exposing some of the top of his chest. His pale white neck was long and soft and his sideburns were sharp. His hair as usual was impeccable, beautiful chestnut brown and his deep blue eyes were languid in the shimmering heat. His lips were dry and he needed a drink.

Passion, www.Sextoys.co.uk and Cliterati have teamed up to offer a pair of tickets to the most sought-after event of the spring plus a delicious, titillating toy to five very lucky winners.

"I'm not ready yet." Rebecca bellowed down the stairs to Brian. She finished brushing her hair and put the paddle brush down on her dressing table. He had been waiting over an hour and was beginning to lose his patience. He ran up the stairs to their room. “Rebecca, you’ve got five more minutes until I completely lose my patience with you. We’re already late.”

I met her walking. She asked me for directions as we fell in step together she asked me if I was on my own? I replied I definitely was as I had just split up with my partner and this was my first time out as a single. She sparkled with chemistry as her eyes lingered down my body. ‘This is my first Australia day in Canberra can I join you?’ We picnicked together, blankets and esky’s entwined in the shade under the trees, as we looked out to the lake watching the fireworks. We shared wine bread and cheese; she had olive oil, tomatoes and cucumbers, I, desert of chocolate and fruit.

Chloe couldn't believe that her flight had been delayed. It was bad enough to have to be at the airport hours before the flight, but to wait another 90 minutes was plain irritating. "Oh well, I may as well hit the shops," she thought, as if she hadn't done enough shopping whilst she was in New York. Her new Bloomingdales medium brown bag containing the last items that refused to fit in her suitcase was certainly testament to that, but as it was snowing outside the airport, and she had little else to do, she made her way to the duty free shops to try on perfume.

Helen sat down at the breakfast bar,she had just returned from her shopping with her lover.Helen twirled the diamond bracelet on her wrist.She wanted to talk.

Sexy undies are often the domain of women but website Giggleberries looks set to change that. With pants from brands including leading French underwear designers HOM and German brand Olaf Benz, they stock everything from opaque thongs for the brazen man to cute boxer briefs that hug a pert posterier. And while you may think thongs are less than ideal, they're shooting up in popularity: 45 percent of the undies bought are thongs, with boxers and briefs taking only 10 percent of the market.

My lover was at his last day of his job. We had discussed a last day blow job from his colleague in his office. She had large perky breasts, a firm body which wiggled and lips that were made to be wrapped around a cock.
I couldn’t resist, I needed to plant the seed of lust to let me see where it would
take me. My first text was; ’Take it there’s a goodbye blow job on the agenda?’
A reply a minute later, ’Park One hotel where I was above you ramming my cock down your throat.’
‘Not me’, I replied, the girl with great breasts and lips to wrap round your cock in the office.’

The scorching afternoon light shines through the sleek venetian blinds in my bedroom. “I’m just going to have a cool rinse”, I tell Ed, sliding my thin cotton dress up over my head, slipping my knickers down my legs and giving them a little kick on to the cold bathroom tiles. On this hot, hot, 40 degree day, the cool droplets make me shiver with delight, flowing over my full breasts, over my stomach and between my legs.

Shall I make a confession? Sometimes...ok, a lot of times, when I come home from work, I like to unwind with my laptop, a good glass of vino and my imagination. I might read a sexy story or I might browse the web for pictures I love.

My outfit was carefully selected, It needed to make an impact, it needed to say something about my strength of character and it needed to send a message direct to your loins. It did.

Any blog that describes the Daily Mail newspaper as a "bucket of wank" whilst pointing out its sexism; or explains why chip fat is a no-no for anal sex; or details how much it can hurt a man if a woman grips his cock "like an Atari joystick during a particularly intense level of Pac-Man" is a blog I would gladly recommend.

It was late in the night, a Friday night, as usual. He came to the main entrance and she gave him the keys to the carpark and to get into the block. They did not smile or speak. He walked away, she closed the heavy metal door. She then turned and went back up in the lift to her flat, leaving the door slightly ajar for him. The place was full of soft candlelight and music. It was warm and tidy.

I hate washing the dishes. Really, I don't mind doing any other housework, although obviously I'd prefer someone else to do it for me, but washing up I hate. I had decided it was about time I invested in a dishwasher so imagine my delight, and surprise, when I arrived home from work to find my man standing at the sink, pink washing up gloves and all, working his way through the pile of dishes that I had let build up for about four days.