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.

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.

You know I dream about you. You also know how I can’t help playing with myself upon waking from these vivid dreams of you, anything to escape this prison of frustration from not having you.

Helen sat at her dressing table finishing her make-up,the red lipstick the final act as she readied herself for her work do. I had watched her put on a tiny bra, g-string and black hold ups, followed by a little black halterneck dress, finished off with black knee length boots.

It had been a while before the urge to meet anyone else had arrived. The divorce was taking what seemed like a lifetime and it still hurt, even though I knew it was right. Living in London suburbia was not conducive to meeting anyone though. People in this area had a habit of keeping themselves to themselves, not like where I grew up in the South West.

“Oh, and remember.... we’re out of lube” my girlfriend announced as she rushed off to work as I happily dozed away, half awake.
“Ok,” I chuckled. I knew exactly what she was referring to. I had tried to force my cock into her arse the other night (quite unsuccessfully, I might add) without such a slippery aid and we were meeting up with our fuck buddy in the week, who has a tendency to get a little nervous and dry on us, despite loving a bit of ass play herself.

I arrived half hour early. You answered the door with a towel wrapped round you. The water on your shoulders glistening in the sunshine and small bubbles from the bubble bath ran down the soft V of your breasts. Your face was a soft pink, was it from the bath or did I catch you playing!?

x:talk free English classes for workers in the sex industry are re-commencing in February 2008. After a highly successful pilot course, the x:talk project has expanded and now includes language classes for both men and women selling sex in London.

It is Sunday afternoon and I am lying naked on your bed after an argument regarding your feelings for a certain other woman. You walk in, and thinking that I am asleep, stand looking at me for a few minutes before stripping off and coming to lie on top of me. You know that I like this, your heat and strength overpowering me, your cock hardening between my legs…

I am the girl who will always surrender with a kiss. No matter what has been said before, kiss me and I'm yours for whatever you want to do to me. The kind of kiss where the man embraces the moment, as though you were long lost lovers meeting again after years of distance and heartache. The kind of kiss when you ruffle your strong hands through my hair and mess it up as you slowly wrap one arm around me and gradually lie me down. Kiss me like that and I'm yours.

Jon’s PA let me into the room.
‘I’ll be next door if you need me. Use the emergency pager on the table. I have my own key so you can lock the door if you want. Just make sure the mobile is within reach before you go OK?’ He smiled and said ‘Have fun’ before going to his room next door. I let the door fall on the latch and walked through into the main room. Jon was sitting on the chair grinning.

What He wanted was me… This was clear before the games began. He had his room and I had mine. We worked hard. We worked in His room – ‘the working room’ – and after 7 straight hours, I declared that we should call a break before dinner.

I think I have always understood what men find sexy in certain women – some have a sensual softness and allure, others a raw sexuality. While I very much crave, and have to have, a hard, smooth rigid cock, I have always been intrigued and turned on by women. I suppose because of this, and because I am a very sexual person, I tune into other peoples desires. Maybe I have also wanted to be someone’s fantasy. Maybe I was hers.

“You coming for a hack?” she asked, car keys in hand.

“Nah, thanks Judy,” I replied. “I reckon I’ll just stay here with Orson Welles, if you don’t mind.” The biography lay on the long stripped oak table next to my morning coffee.

“OK, suit yourself” she huffed, off-handily. “Anyway, see you round one-ish for lunch. Byeee!”

I heard the door of the Range Rover slam and the hush-crush of tyres against gravel. The director mocked me from the dust jacket.