A Gift For Breast Cancer Awareness Month

Found this.

A little gift for all ladies everywhere and a timely reminder of breast cancer awareness month.

For those of you who are not in favour of mammograms, here in the UK we have a mobile thermal imaging option. I am hoping to try it soon – anyone else with experience?

Originally posted 2013-10-09 06:07:47. 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

Disloyalty

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.

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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!

Improvisation

Fleshbotted

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…

Movie Clip Wednesday: Worst Casting Choice

Hmmm. Difficult one. I even went online to see what other people had said in the past… the consensus seems to be John Wayne playing Genghis Khan in The Conquerer.

I asked Ruf and, after complaining bitterly that it was a very difficult question, announced Dick Van Dyke. By which I assume he means in Mary Poppins… That is NOT a cockney accent!

For me, I would have to say Scarlett Johannson in The Other Boleyn Girl. Not because she was a bad actress but purely for the fact that I don’t believe a raven-haired temptress like Anne Boleyn would have had such a blonde sister. And the choice of the gorgeous Eric Bana as the middle-aged King Henry is also way off the mark. Richard Burton’s portrayal in Anne of the Thousand Days was far more believeable.

Originally posted 2010-05-05 04:07:55. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Does a French dating site encourage married women to cheat?

Interesting headline on the BBC’s Facebook page.

Continue reading Does a French dating site encourage married women to cheat?

Mystery Bugs

By the time Ruf went back for the first Villa game of the season on Saturday, I was feeling quite a lot better.

Sure, I was still very tired and eating even a few mouthfuls of porridge required a lie down to aid digestion but I’d stopped feeling permanently nauseous and the sweating and shivering had stopped.

As far as I was concerned, I was on the mend and just needed to focus on eating little and often to try to get my strength (and weight) back up.

Which is why I was so despondent to wake up at 5am on Sunday morning shivering violently.  It was back to the hot water bottles and the sweats but, when I got up and started moving around, I could feel a strange discomfort working its way up both sides of my back.  Classic symptoms of a water infection affecting the kidneys.  I had no strength left to fight anything else.  It was time to admit defeat and call in the professionals.  I got the appointment relatively easily, had the diagnosis confirmed and came away armed with my prescription for antibiotics.

But the doctor had no idea what had caused the inner turmoil of the previous five days.  It could have been the forerunner of this but, to me, it’s completely different and seems more likely to be a result of not being able to drink enough water when I was ill.

Mystery bugs, where the doctor doesn’t know what’s wrong with you, are inevitably put down to ‘a virus’.

Me, I think burning the candle at both ends for the last few weeks left me run down.  When I went to stay with Ruf, I got out of routine and forgot to take the vitamins that normally keep my system relatively healthy.  It could have taken just the slightest thing to tip me over the edge and now I have to be particularly careful to recuperate properly without rushing back into the same old bad habits.

I don’t think the stress of Ruf’s  impending meeting with my children and then with my sister is helping either.

It’s not that I’m worried that they won’t like each other per se.

I’m just not feeling in control.  There are too many things that could go wrong.

I am, as Ruf would say, fretting… and I don’t think that is helping my recovery.

Originally posted 2010-08-17 19:36:52. Republished by Blog Post Promoter