Blown off course

Q: Your man is hard at work in your downstairs region, trying his best to bring you to the boil, make your whistle blow. What, at this crucial, almost climactic moment, would be the worst thing to happen? A: All your muscles relax and you let out the loudest, rip-roaring fart, just inches from his

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Trying it on for size

If there is a sure-fire way to shatter the dregs of one’s self-esteem, it has to be trying on a pile of clothes in various shop changing rooms. Think you are getting a little too self-assured and big for your boots? Try going into a tiny cubicle with three-way mirrors and harsh lighting to magnify

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Letter

Dear __ I write this letter, because in speech I am often inarticulate and clumsy, or the words fail to make the journey from my brain to my mouth. Don’t worry – this is not to bare you bad news. This is not a ‘dear John’ letter – quite the opposite. I just wanted to

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Eight top tips

So, you have read about my adventures and are now thinking: “I’d like a piece of this. How do I become a Drunken Slut Mum? Show me the way!” Look no further – here are eight top tips: 1. Keep your (lady) garden tidy In the 1990s it was acceptable to have a big bush

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Any other business

The day got off to its usual slow, frustrating start – the 20-month-old dawdled over his toast, throwing it on the floor when he decided he’d had enough. The seven-year-old had also let breakfast drag out, gazing at a magazine and occasionally shovelling chocolate cereal into her mouth. After running up and downstairs several times

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Tall story

Today, I tried wearing high heel shoes for the first time in months. They ripped my feet to shreds and I now have blisters on two of my toes. I’ve never been a good heels-wearer – I teeter about like a man in drag and find my toes and balls of my feet are in

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Making out

Sometimes it’s not the chandelier-swinging, gymnastic-style, heart-pumping sex that one needs. Don’t get me wrong – being thrown against the wall and screwed within an inch of one’s life, has its time and place, as I have said here many times. But there are occasions, particularly when one or both of you are tired, a

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Contradictions

I want to be strong and independent alone But yearn to be held in the arms of someone To spread myself out in my double bed But to wake to a cuddle and kiss on the head Have the kitchen to myself and cook what I please But for someone to make me a cup

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Our lips are sealed

My unique situation with The Man means that very few people know what I get up to in my spare time. In fact I like to think most would assume I enjoy quiet nights in with a cup of hot chocolate, a good book and a spot of needlecraft or baking. But I am not

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Bus job

We were on the bus, sitting at the back. It was late, no one was there, save for an old man near the front, holding a carrier bag on his knee. But he and I had lost all sense of the outside world, the drink warming and melting our insides, warming and melting most of

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It started with a kiss

Pucker up, folks, close your eyes and move in for that smooch! Today, we are snogging, necking, ‘pashing’ or just plain kissing. Whether it’s your first ever time or you’ve done it hundreds of times before, your first premeditated kiss with someone is a daunting prospect. I am not talking about a random drunken snog

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Birthday bubbly

A vintage post from not that long ago, and it’s not my birthday just yet: For DSM birthdays are not usually popping corks and explosive climaxes of fireworks. I prefer to get a year older quietly and discreetly, especially now I’m the wrong side of 35. A table for two somewhere half-decent is the most I

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Artistic licence

When I casually suggested The Man took up life drawing classes, naïve though it sounds, I had no idea that I was going to be his model. After all, at the time we had not had sex or been alone together for months. I had an eight-month-old baby so had been pretty tied up with

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Not in front of the children

When my daughter was about three she walked in on the ex and I ‘in the act’. It was a Sunday morning and as usual she had woken up and wandered into our room to try to burrow under our duvet. The ex developed a rather strange high pitched voice and said: “Can you get

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Get dry!

It’s the sexual equivalent of try before you buy, tasting the wine without swallowing it, or test driving a car. But it’s also something largely done by teenagers, people in a rush or those thinking they are doing something naughty but discreet. Yes, the dry hump has earned itself something of a seedy, adolescent and

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I just won’t do for you

I just won’t do for you I wish it were not true And the news came as a shock A most unwelcome, awful knock When I thought it was going well You sounded the final knell. No proper explanation came “It didn’t feel right”, the claim Was it the loose post-baby gut, Or the rather

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You might just do for me

You might just do for me I say ‘might’, as we’ll see. Only time will tell and show Whether the distance we might go But there’s something about you That gives me a rosy hue. You’re not a film star pin-up, But I’ll try your essence in my cup, To taste what you can provide,

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Cheap thrills

Like many girls, pre-sexual awakening, I now with hindsight realise I had been turned on a number of times in my growing years, before I could even identify the deep stirring inside me. This is something very innocent and natural that occurs, often when you are alone; those feelings of excitement which you feel again

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You won’t do for me

You won’t do for me I’m sure anyone else can see I had my doubts before me met Your gushing words made me fret For just my picture and some prose, Your feelings for me rose and rose. But your ex still gives you stress Your separation remains a mess She won’t let you see

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Please please me

Happiness is often something you only know you have experienced retrospectively. The only time, in DSM’s view, that you know you are happy in the present tense (and omitting anything chemically induced) is either when you are laughing out loud or during an orgasm. Otherwise, it’s only after the event that you think: “Actually, that was

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Back in the game (again)

So, readers I have dipped my toe in to the murky water of internet dating again. When will I ever learn? It’s a dodgy world of players, chancers, the emotionally vulnerable, the deluded, the desperate and the fibbers. Somehow, you have to try to sift through all these undesirable weeds to find a decent one.

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Catch us if you can…

…But please don’t – it’s the risk of being caught that’s so exhilarating. If we actually did get caught, we would probably die of embarrassment. And what are we doing that we don’t want to get caught doing? Nicking sweets from the newsagents? Writing rude words on toilet walls? Flicking elastic bands at people in

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Big hugs

The other day a male work colleague dressed a deep puncture wound on my left ring finger. This was an unremarkable event in itself; I had accidentally stabbed myself when washing the giant blade of a new food mixer. A day or two after, when I was in work, I asked him for advice, when

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Man up!

‘Guyliner’, fake tan, excessive waxing, preening and coiffuring seem to have become the norm for many men in their 20s and 30s these days. But ask most women, at least of Drunken Slut Mum’s generation (let’s say those born roughly before 1980) and they won’t be overjoyed/impressed by any of this nonsense. How are you

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