Object of desire

You may remember, Dear Reader, (if you were reading back when I still blogged regularly), that my Wife complained that She didn’t want to be objectified by lingerie.

At some point, I recall having mused on my own desire to be objectified. I’d love to be used for sex once more. It’s been far too long since someone who just needed a damn good fucking, and little more, wanted me to satisfy their need. To make use of my cock, my fingers, my tongue, to provide purely for their needs.

This morning, I swelled to this image, shared by Erotixx …

No sex please, we’re British bakers

We were watching Great British Bake Off.
For those who don’t know, it’s a monumentally successful UK TV game show, nay a national obsession, in which contestants’ baking efforts are judged by professional, celebrity bakers. Yeah, I know. Could there ever be a TV show more quintessentially British!?

It was Batter Week.
For those for whom that makes no sense as a concept …

Get it made

One of my more recent discoveries is Latex Fashion TV, a website I stumbled across on Tumblr and one that does what it says on the tin. [Please excuse me if that popular cultural reference doesn’t translate out of English^UK.]

And as good things lead to good things, I then learned about

The moment after

There’s that moment when you realise you didn’t put the porn away, and can’t remember where you put it. The moment you realise you could have left it somewhere where your sexually repressed, anti-porn partner could find it.

And then there’s the moment when all is resolved.

After you’ve spent more than a few moments over the last few days

Research

I have a theory, Dear Reader. But before I expound upon it I need your input.

It’s a simple question, and one I shall explain if I can get enough raw data, but I don’t want to guide you’re answers, so …

That moment

That moment when you’re reminded of the last time you watched that no-holes-barred porno DVD.

That moment after you had

Girl with a pearl necklace

Stuck when it comes to picking a Valentien’s Gift?

Say pearl necklace to your Great Aunt Ethel, and there’s a good chance she’ll think of exquisite, aquatic jewellery, handed down from generation to generation.

Say pearl necklace to the lads down the pub, and even if they don’t say so out loud, I’ll wager most think of pulling out and shooting their load over their partners face. (They should be so lucky!)

But say pearl necklace to