Having my cake and eating it too

So many people have asked me why I don’t do something about my situation. Why don’t I leave my Husband? Why don’t I get my own place? Why don’t I take the children to live with Ruf?

My reply to them is: But what possible benefit could any individual from this family unit get from embracing one of those options? From a purely selfish point of view, yes, I would be gaining my independence from my Husband, who is hardly a tyrant, but I would be exchanging it for the far more savage rule of having to work to try to make ends meet and provide a second comfortable home for my children. So, in effect, I would be losing my independence.

Right from the start, I have always said that I will never leave my children. My own mother deserted us when I was 17, leaving me to deal with a father close to alcoholism and a younger sister, going through the tough teenage years which suddenly became so much worse without a stable family life. Admittedly, they had been arguing for a long time so things were not that secure and we had just moved house away from everything we had grown up with. Things were very tough. I am pretty sure that these difficult times played a crucial role in my insecurity and eventually developing anorexia. I don’t blame anyone, it was just the way that I dealt with it. I refuse to put my children at risk of feeling anything less than confident in their own bodies/personalities/abilities. I try so hard to make them feel loved and cared for – this seems to be especially hard with an increasingly hormonal and prickly teenage girl, but I keep trying. I never want them to think I left them or forced their father to leave them.

Ruf has always said he doesn’t want to be a home-wrecker. From the very start, he fought our attraction to each other because I was still married. However, I will explain it to you, the way I told it to him.

My Husband and I seem to have found a way to remain relatively civil. There are very few rows. We sleep in the same bed, although we do not have any form of physical relationship in terms of sex or day to day affection. This was never discussed but has developed on its own over the last few years. I do not know how he feels about this. If he doesn’t like it, it is up to him to initiate a conversation. For 25 years, I tried to talk to him about affection and feelings until I was blue in the face and he would not accommodate my needs. I will not beg him to love me ever again.

We have a comfortable lifestyle. A nice house in a nice area with a big garden and a bedroom and computer for each child. There is enough money for them to be able to do most of the activities that they wish to try and to go on different types of holiday with the school. For me to leave my Husband or ask him to leave and finance a second home would be to wreck their comfortable, secure, settled home-life. At the moment they have unrestricted access to both parents, who love them very much and are not constantly fighting over whose turn it is to have them or who should be supervising homework or one parent having more money than the other to give treats or withholding maintenance. He does not beat me or them. He is a good, kind man who tries to love the best he can.

Ruf lives in a one-bedroom flat in the middle of a big City, nearly 200 miles away from their friends/family/security. He cannot afford to maintain my lifestyle or that of my children.

The only person who would be made happier by moving to be with him would be me.

There is no good reason for me to leave my Husband but there are so many reasons in relation to my children why I shouldn’t. And to ask him to leave the comfortable home that he has financed would be just as wrong.

To consider either option would be an act of the utmost selfishness, an abrogation of every parental responsibility that I have tried so hard to uphold… at this stage.

In a few years time, they will both be older and more independent. Hopefully, one will be finishing Uni and the other starting there. My absences during term time will not be so noticeable. I can start a slow but inexorable break away.

Of course, anything can happen in a few years and Ruf may have found someone more suitable – younger, prettier, sexier, available now, who wants to settle down and give him his own children.

Who knows what the future holds but, for now, my duty is to be with my children with just a smidgeon of selfishness to ensure that I also get a portion of what it is that makes me happy on a regular basis. You will see from the next post on this subject why I believe that my Husband will continue to collude with me in this facade.

I know it’s selfish, but I want to carry on having my cake and eating it too…

Originally posted 2007-08-17 12:31:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Checklist For Moving House

"checklist-for-moving-house"1. Bag up all soft furnishings like towels and bedding – no point wasting boxes on those.

2. Wrap and box all breakables ensuring that the bases of boxes are taped to avoid unfortunate spillages.

3. Bag or box shoes/footwear.

4. Pull drawers from units and wrap in a black sack – it makes items of furniture lighter and avoids having the removal men admire your exquisite Ann Summers lingerie.

5. Set aside a special box for vibrators.

Filling this box brought back a whole host of happy memories. My toy box is actually one of the drawers under the bed and, as I sorted through to make optimal use of the space in the large carton that was to be their home for the next few days, Albert 2 (my Clone A Willy) – on being put less than carefully into his place – activated himself.

That’s when I knew that this box would be the one that would require my personal attention when it came to removals. But, more importantly, that it must go first on the day before the actual move to ensure no unfortunate and embarrassing incidents.

Particularly as the noise it made rattling away in the box was akin to an extremely loud food mixer.

There would be no explaining that away without a very red face.

Originally posted 2011-03-22 08:43:26. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Valentine’s Day Ideas

It’s that time of year again and my inbox has been full of special offers from all my lovely suppliers. So I thought I’d share a few with you to see if you are inspired to treat your loved one.

First up, we have the Valentine’s lovers sets from Ann Summers, who are offering some fabulous lingerie sets from £25 as well as an assortment of pressies, starting at £15.

At Love Honey, there is a huge range of Valentine Novelty Gifts from £1.99 – great ideas, all with free delivery.

Kinky Gifts For Couples

Spice up your Valentine’s Day at MyPleasure!
Sexy Gifts for Men, Women and Couples. Clearance items–up to 70% off!Lots of Valentine’s Goodies, with the unusual ‘Send a Postcard’ option.

Buy adult toys, games and gifts at MyPleasure.

For their Valentine’s campaign, besides the usual array of Valentine’s gifts and novelties, Xcite Books are also offering a FREE ebook.

Originally posted 2010-02-09 10:41:02. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Vaginal Thinning Discomfort

So after my post about my problems with Menopause Sex, I suddenly remembered this product that I tested several years ago. It worked fairly well but it was all a bit messy because the upper parts of my vagina do not suffer from problems with lubrication.

I looked into moisturising creams but the main one that is recommended over here had a couple of bad reviews when, after a few weeks of daily applications, several women became aware of a bad smelling, cottage cheese like discharge. I have enough problems of my own without adding something which encourages thrush-like symptoms.

I looked into lubricating, tightening gels and, whilst the active ingredients were all natural, my problem is that my vagina is too tight, it really does not need help in that area.

I looked into oestrogen creams, but these are all synthetic and can get into the bloodstream, causing imbalances with progesterone and so usually require the latter to be taken also. The idea of fiddling around with my hormone levels leads me to think that I will be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

And then I read this article by Dr Phil Hammond, a media physician who is very well-known over here. He mentioned the product, Liquid Silk. It was not the first time during my research that I had heard this product mentioned so I investigated further.

A comment by Lily with the suggestion that I read her post about lubes came up trumps with Liquid Silk being at the top of her list of favourites.

I have placed my order and will get back to you.

Originally posted 2012-05-16 23:15:32. Republished by Blog Post Promoter


It’s been a difficult few weeks and I apologise for neglecting you.

I have been trying to come to terms with things – with the way that my life is panning out.

And it’s not quite how I imagined it. Relationships after divorce don’t just affect the husband and the wife.

In most families, when there is separation and divorce, there is ‘blame’ attached and the two families split apart to rally around their wronged scion.

For my husband’s family, life carries on to my exclusion – even though I was a part of it for thirty years. There are no party invites or telephone communications from my husband’s siblings, it is as if I do not exist.

However, with my own kin, things are rather different. My husband has always been embraced as another son and it is difficult for them to rip those feelings asunder. But it is worse than that.

He is invited to every family occasion and I almost feel as if it is me that is the guilty party in the split as far as they are concerned. Even though they know and acknowledge the problems with his inconsistent parenting. They do support my decision to leave… but they seem unable to deal with the etiquette of the aftermath.

How do you respond when your own father says he is unsure about meeting with your current beau because ‘he doesn’t want to be disloyal to [my ex]’? I know that he has been like a son to him for more than three decades but blood is supposed to be thicker than water.

I have complained before that he stole my children… but now he seems to have snatched my family as well.

Originally posted 2011-10-04 06:50:30. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Pan Am 103

At just after 7pm twenty years ago today the transponder signal for the Pan American Airways Boeing 747 known as Clipper Maid of the Seas split into four separate readings and then disappeared off the screen altogether.

And so began two decades of legal wranglings over who was responsible. With so many political shenanigans it is hard to be sure even now that the correct man is actually held in Greenock prison and he is awaiting a second appeal since the Scottish Criminal Cases Review Commission has found that ‘he may have suffered a miscarriage of justice’.

The only thing that is really known is that all 243 passengers and 16 crew were killed as an explosion ripped through the fuselage and destroyed the aircraft’s structure, causing a wing, containing 91,000kg of fuel to fall through the air and land on Sherwood Crescent in Lockerbie obliterating two families and several houses as it exploded causing a seismic event that was recorded by the nearby British Geological Survey as measuring 1.6 on the Richter scale.

The wreckage of the rest of the aeroplane drifted in the wind and was distributed over a wide area, including the front cabin section whose image will remain in our minds forever. My thoughts today are with their families who may never know the perpetrators or the real reasons why.

The story of the fate of the plane, passengers and crew can be read here.

Originally posted 2008-12-21 12:00:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

OverRated: XL Dongs

The first time I came across the concept of the UberPenis was on a trip to Pompeii.

We found this picture in one of the little houses and were told the story of how, in less enlightened times, it was covered by a board and only the men were allowed to view it.

After that, I became rather fascinated by the idea that not all men were equal. However, in my very small sphere of experiences, all the cocks have been pretty much the same size once erect. Yes, some might have been a little wider than others but lengthwise, they were all very similar. Naturally, Ruf’s is my favourite because it has a slight curve which hits all the right spots providing me with a whole new layer to the intensity of my orgasms.

Watching Mark Wahlberg’s prosthetically-enhanced performance as Dirk Diggler in Boogie Nights, I came to realise that porn stars are not like ordinary men. They are chosen for the size of their endowment and the inventiveness of their screen name rather than their acting ability. Not having been much into porn, be it in magazines or on film, this was all new to me.

I’ve always been an action type of girl. Reading the sexual exploits in Harold Robbins and Jilly Cooper novels and seeing the pictures in my head as a result of the quality of the narrative is what gets me wet. Seeing a naked man oiled up in a magazine, no matter how big his truncheon, really doesn’t do that much in terms of arousal… but, with the revelatory discovery of the pleasing capacity of my toothbrush, I did start to look for more visual means of stimulation on satellite television. Bravo provided me with some material. Normally interviews and bios on porn stars which would involve the sight of a man shafting one woman whilst fingering another two. Now that’s what I call multi-tasking. Mind you, if ever there was any full frontal nudity, his bits were normally pixellated out.

It was Ruf who introduced me to online porn and some of the larger examples of manhood.

To be honest, those things terrify me. When I hear or read my blogger friends waxing lyrical about the joys of the Big Boy, I find myself inwardly quaking.

I’m so small and delicate and with a very fragile vaginal ecosystem that has enough trouble coping with the pounding I receive from a regular model without being ripped apart by something that is clearly some inches longer than the distance between my pubic bone and my belly button.

I read over at Svetlana’s Sex Secrets that one in three women likes a big penis but I can’t help thinking that the figure may be greater than that – although maybe it’s just the company I keep.

No, for me, the extra large dong would be totally excessive. But that certainly doesn’t mean that I don’t want you to continue to regale me with your stories of how such a beast works for you.


Originally posted 2009-03-06 16:59:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Sugasm #107

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #108? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Half-Nekkid Blow Job” We could hear people walking past and talking so they’d be able to hear us as well.”

Masturbation on a Memory“I let the first time I had sex with your flash back though my mind.”

Reality Check: Handling Long Calls“While I get my share of quick cummer calls I have several clients that like to talk for hours.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself Christian Friis

Editor’s Choice A Non-Monogamy Lexicon

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Originally posted 2007-11-29 00:45:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Back to Blenheim

I was here before nearly forty years ago.

Blenheim, the powerhouse of two of the nation’s most famous generals. The Duke of Marlborough and Winston Churchill.

This time, I am here with my own army. My Ruf.

And the voyage of discovery is beginning to clear away the mists of time.

I am starting to behave differently around my family, although they still try to snatch at my legs as I heave my way out of the hole. They want to drag me back in.

What’s different about Ruf is that he met me before he met them.

With my first husband, he was already part of the crowd of my family’s friends.

So he knew me as the quiet one, the butt of the jokes.

And he was not strong enough to fight against their behaviour. He just joined in. Or said nothing and let me suffer alone.

Ruf is different. He knows the real Joanna Cake. Sure, I have my faults but I am not the person that I become when I am around my family.

Defensive, insular, resentful, always waiting for the next dig.

And he is going to help me to finally break out of that mould.

Whilst we are at Blenheim, we receive a communication from my sister. She has ‘friended’ Ruf on Facebook and her first action is to copy him in on a message giving instructions on things that I should be doing! The reason? Because I have stopped replying to her missives. I am not behaving as she thinks I should. So she will try to command Ruf to make this happen.

She doesn’t know what she is taking on.

Together, we can stop my predictable reaction to her behaviour.

I can see the rest of my life opening up before me.

Full of possibility.

I am about to break free and it is a revelation.

Problems With Long Distance Relationships

"problems-with-long-distance-relationships"“I now miss you so much, it’s officially become unbearable”

I knew exactly what Ruf’s text meant.

That emptiness in the chest reaches a point where it is almost a physical pain. One of the problems with long distance relationships.

We are only half way into an enforced five week hiatus. The longest we have been apart in months.

It’s all very well saying that we can have cyber sex or listen to each other masturbate over the telephone and that would have been enough before because we had no choice, there was no other way but secret liaisons slotted into busy schedules.

But it’s no longer sufficient. Not when we’ve had the joy of uninterrupted weeks of togetherness. We have tasted heaven and now we have to go back to purgatory.

Silent, empty and alone.

I could sit here and write reams about how badly I want him. How my heart aches for him and my skin demands him.

Like an addict, shivering from withdrawal, anticipates the next fix, I crave his presence.

But, instead, I must press on, immerse myself in work to try to ignore the ever increasing pangs and numb the gnawing fingers of my desire.

Naturally, I wank. Well, it’s part of my job, of course.

It serves only to take the edge off.

This is an urge with a deep root and, like an iceberg, it is what’s underneath that causes the real problems.

I need recharging and there’s only one hub with the proper connection.

I am running on empty.

Originally posted 2010-12-13 06:29:01. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Magical Wandage for Stressed Out Sex Goddesses

magic wandThe Magic Wand in my sidebar is still my vibrator of choice.

It must be seven or eight years old now but it’s still going strong.

All I need to do is change the four A4 batteries every now and then.

I can guarantee that, no matter how stressed I am, that baby can bring me to orgasm in less than two minutes.

There’s hardly even time for a fantasy to formulate in my head.

It’s oooh, ahhh, exhale and relax into it. Then lie back and feel the rejuvenating effects.

For a time poor former sex goddess, that’s reliability you have to take advantage of.

And it is so good for your body too! Energising me even if I was ready to drop beforehand.

Click here to get yours!



At first he was kind. He made me climb onto the bottom step of a small ladder before cuffing me to the horizontal chin bar fixed in his door frame. Then he got a cotton belt and secured my other wrist. And another belt like a tie with a big Windsor knot around my neck.

As I looked at him curiously, awaiting the next development, he produced the plastic spatula with a flourish and a ‘ta-da’ which made me smile… with a certain amount of trepidation.

The ‘thwack’ as the flat part made contact with my bottom confirmed my suspicions that my first foray into bondage and pain might not be such a pleasurable experience.

After a short time inflicting discomfort upon my derriere, he flipped the tool over and inserted the handle inside me, all the time, flicking casually at my clit with his fingers.

Waiting for me to come, before kicking the step away and starting to flog me more determinedly. I hung there, defenceless, for some time, as he beat the soft butt cheeks until they were glowing pink. The belt around my neck was tightening but not dangerously so. My toes unable to reach the ground, the pressure on my shoulders from taking the whole weight of my body was becoming acutely uncomfortable and if I loosened my grip of the bar and relied on the cuffs to support me, they cut into my wrists. So I clung on stoically when he slid his fingers into me and fucked me with them.

After a while, I forgot the pain and submerged myself in the pleasure. My knees came up to accommodate the passage of his digits, whilst the tension grew inside me until I thought I would burst. My body throbbed and a curious weightlessness engulfed me. I was aware of enjoying the feeling of suspension as opposed to being grounded against the bed. Simultaneously slapping with the spatula and probing with his fingers, he broke the resistance within me and I had no choice but to melt all over his hand with a shuddering sigh.

When he had finished admiring his handiwork, he replaced the step beneath my feet and helped me down, before carefully washing and drying the implement and replacing it in the cutlery drawer.

It makes me smile when I see it there because I know, whatever happens in the future, whenever he sees that piece of equipment, he will think of me.

Originally posted 2009-09-15 10:48:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

The Missing Sex

Ruf and I joke about our missing sex life.

It resurfaces occasionally but, mostly, I am too tired and stressed to feel even remotely sexy.

He does his best to resurrect my libido by complimenting me at every opportunity.

I know that I am still beautiful physically – and could be even more so if I had time to do more physical activity.

But time is the one resource I never seem to have.

And so things have to change.

I want to be that woman who longed for his touch, could not wait for him to be in the same room and become intimate with him.

My lack of sex drive is not to do with proximity and familiarity.

It is to do with energy levels.

But supposing my work suddenly required the need to write about sex?

What if I got paid to think sexy again?

Now there is a conundrum!

Cross your fingers…