..entirely inappropriately, about what I'd do if I were at home right now, instead of oceans away.

A promise of tenderness, the link between ideas and realities. Looking at it from all sides, I get all sorts of ideas.

I glanced and glanced again at this summit I would never conquer. The ascension seemed easy. More of a stroll on a smooth terrain. I am tempted to linger here. But I am pushed by instincts. The climb soon became steeper, the ground rockier.

In these credit-crunch evenings, more and more couples are staying in and making their own fun. And finding a new use for their video cameras.

The number of couples filming themselves in the bedroom is increasing. Sadly the quality is not; harsh lighting, grainy footage and unflattering angles make the viewing cringeworthy or comedy, but rarely erotic.

But that needn’t be the case according to the makers of Make Your Own Erotic Videos. They claim that with a few tips anyone can make a classy, sensual film – and have a lot of fun in the process.

She always had a thing for guys with tattoos. This one had plenty, along with perfectly toned arms and sexy blue eyes. He'd been staring at her all night as she waited tables. She wanted to know what was under those jeans. It was finally the end of her shift, so she invited him for a ride.

I sat on the stool as carefully as I could, I hoped I would get away without him seeing me. It was too late. He made eye contact and nudged his friends to come over.

I sat still trying to hold my skirt down to avoid him getting a glimpse of the black lacetop hold ups I was wearing. He stood in front of me, parted my knees with his hands and ran them up the inside of my thighs. I felt the warm flood seeping through my black lace knickers with every millimetre he ascended. He reached my wet pulsating mound and slipped one, then two fingers under my panty line. The coolness of his fingers made me gasp.

"There you like that don't you?" He muttered, his eyes wild with power and lust.
He pulled his fingers out and ran them over my mouth, my lips parted automatically as I tasted the sweet muskiness of my own juices. He parted my legs wider and pulled my knickers to one side exposing my moist ripe pussy to the eyes of his eager friends.
'Take a look at that boys. Who wants a taste?'

She would stroke his arm as he spoke, it was a fine arm, I must add, tight bicep, olive skin, lower arm and fist. To be completely honest I would have loved to dabble with that arm as well. He would greet her at first, with a kiss to each cheek; then as their relationship deepened he went straight to her lips.

As I stood in the darkened room, I could feel my heart beating hard. It was hot and I could feel the tension ripping through the air. I couldn’t wait any longer to see him. As the lights came up he walked out on to the stage. My dream man, the lead singer of a rock band.

He looked down and could barely believe that this pretty blonde was really lying on his bed. Sure there had been flirtations, teasings and enough tension for the others in the group to comment on, during the week away. However despite this, they had somehow managed to resist the urge, mainly by taking the matter into their own hands, several times. But now they were back home and back with their respective partners. They should have been glad that they had behaved against the odds, but still something niggled at them both.

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!?

Have you ever been kissed? I mean really kissed? Treated as though you're a delicious dessert to be savoured. Lips hovering over your throat; hot breath making all your hairs stand on end with the anticipation of being touched. Then finally the fleeting touch of soft skin against yours, a tongue tasting you, and then it's gone again. Only to reappear lower down... hands caressing your back, softly, but surely. Those hands know where they want to go, but for now they decently remain on your back, shoulders, in your hair, tugging it so your throat is exposed. Teeth graze your skin. You feel as though you're sinking into an abyss. If you were standing, your knees would buckle.

The guys had arrived to do my garden – they must have been sent by the landscaping company. I saw 5 of them get out of the truck and go around the back. It was a hot day and they were all bare chested. One of two had tattoos on their arms …mmmm. There were a couple of really good looking young guys – I had beautifully etched muscles in his arms and chest and some low slung jeans which allowed me to glimpse the lines of the V which led down to his crotch. They didn’t know I was watching them – probably assumed I was out.

She never did anything by convention, Sally thought. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her hotel room she admired the wedding dress. The too-tight strapless bustier across her boobs, the flowing satin train and the tiny white flowers set in her mousy hair. White satin shoes and a small fragrant bouquet. After they’d finished helping her, she’d sent Anna and Paula, her bridesmaids, ahead to the church. She’d manage on her own from now until the car arrived.

It goes without saying, in order to look the part so as to snare the apple of one’s eye or radiate appeal, one needs to purchase the right attire. Money here, money there and while one doesn’t have to be a millionaire, one does need a decent pair of shoes, nice lingerie and these things, feature their own price tags.

The fancy name of Xavier didn't surprise her. His title was also typical of those of his profession, if it could be called that. Each day she saw him walk out into the yard, and depending on the weather, some days were more enticing than others were. Sylvia dreaded her first real teaching placement. St Johns College wasn’t an ordinary secondary school, it was one of the most prestigious. After spending the better part of three years as a casual relief teacher, she felt relieved that she finally found her path and then along came Xavier to rumble her idyllic calm.

Fate decided to have her way, and only Fate can be such a cow so as to combine a sweltering day with broken down office air conditioning among other things that I won’t go into right now. The heavy metal within the thermometer, I suspected, began to quiver and I, seated in front of my flickering monitor sighed and felt relieved that the long hand on the clock finally squeezed past five o’ clock mark. A couple of minutes before, I pressed enter and sent yet another email as the Darkness sang something to the tune of buying a one way ticket to hell and back.

I have fallen for a guy at work. He makes my blood pump so hard and I want him to touch me and I want to rub against him like a cat. I feel like such a slut when I'm looking at him and I know my desperation is showing.

“Damnit!” Catherine exclaimed as the wrench slipped and her knuckles scraped violently across the faucet handles. She dropped the heavy silver tool into the sink with a loud clang as she recoiled. Her hand drew up, curled and hiding the hurt. With the other she gently eased open her fingers. She stared down at the torn flesh across her knuckles and brought them to her lips.

The sun was pouring through the closed curtains and the candles I had lit earlier were filling the room with a heady spicy scent. I suppose you could call it the aroma of sex.

You in a summer dress, an open top vintage car with one of those horns where you have to squeeze the black bit. A picnic hamper filled with Champagne, two glasses, strawberries, a summer fruit pudding, delicate sandwiches and some chocolate sauce. We could drive into the country find a remote spot in the sun, with a clear cool lake just below us.