Looking at pictures of boobs is a particular pleasure of mine. I don’t mind what size or shape but I must confess I do adore freckled breasts. I also particularly like breasts in various stages of undress – when you can see the outline of the boob, depicting its shape and the curve of the nipple. Breasts are indeed a wonderful creation.
I also enjoy the rationale behind breasts. They are multi-functional. Naturally they are involved in child rearing but beyond that they exude comfort. The warmth and softness they offer. Their yielding nature. Of course, they are sexy too. They look sexy. When a womans breasts are touched in a certain way she feels sexy, and just having them makes me feel sexy! Continue reading Boobday action – November 25th 2016→
When I was young, about fifteen, a model agency sent me along to a photographer to have some photos taken for my portfolio. I was very naïve and didn’t take any one with me. After the genuine shoot the photographer persuaded me to lower my top, then my bra. All the while snapping away with his camera. He assured me that none of these prints would include my breasts – they were just head and collar bone shots. Young and trusting – I believed him. A few years later I was found in one of the soft porn magazines that was popular at that time. I was horrified. Today I think back and chuckle at the teenage me. What if social media or the World wide Web had been around in those days? It could have been a lot worse.
Nowadays I enjoy seeing photos of my breasts and body in general but I must confess that social media is not my strong point. I have a Twitter account associated with this blog which I do keep up to date. A short while ago I opened a face book account but have not got very far with it. I guess I am a little old fashioned with regards to making “friends” that I am probably never going to meet. However, I know my blog would probably benefit from an associated Instagram account and have that on my “to do “list.
New to my Blog
The pictures in my gallery need to be updated to include more relevant adult photos of me. My man and I have been working with a still camera whilst doing what comes naturally to us. From the last session, we found both the adult photos very authentic and I have included them as part of this post. Eventually I will copy them into my gallery and perhaps even get around to opening an Instagram account!
Van Morrison has a way of singing that injects passion into your soul. His song “It’s All Right” was one of the things that inspired me to put together this site. The song is real, the way he sings it is real. It makes me feel real
Van Morrison – It Matters to him
“It’s All Right”
If it matters how you do it, And how you do it it’s your thing. If it matters which way you go, That’s your way to go. And if you get it like that, That’s the way you get it, ‘Cause you get it like that When you want to be that way, When you wanna be that way, That’s the way you wanna be, see.
[Chorus:] Hey! It’s all right. Hey! Yeah, its all right.
Now that you try to do to me Out there a-walkin’ doesn’t matter, baby Ain’t no question, no suggestion Nothin’ in my mind that can’t be Shut out when I want it to be Nothin’ in yours that can’t be kept in When you open it up and lose it And nothin’ you can’t let out If it’s got to be let out, just let it out And don’t worry which way it goes.
Now how can I tell you that I love you How can I say so many words and so many syllables In such a short space of time as this Just turn it on and soak it in And let it run off the walls And let it down, keep it, and don’t lose it Or confuse it It’s just right there layin’ open Completely open for everybody to see Yeah, you got it.
I found myself in a relationship where I had given everything that was on my inside and it felt like little was being returned. Read about it. So I moved on with an open mind but it soon became apparent that he was so un-evolved that he could not see the bigger picture. Everything we shared, he wanted to keep. He wanted me to leave with nothing. This puzzled me as my view on love is that it should be a giving and understanding thing. Just because it did not work out should not mean his morals should slip. Love had existed between us once so why be selfish and immoral after?
Love. Was it real to him?
If the shoe had been on the other foot I would understand that, no matter how much it hurt, if he needed to leave me to be happy then that is what must happen. He failed to recognise this, so did he ever really love me?
Well, I had a bit of misfortune recently that has left me laid up in bed or resting for at least the next few weeks, possibly more. When you are an agile, able bodied, independent woman like me and you find yourself reliant on someone else 24/7, you feel humbled and subservient and somewhat frustrated.
My relationship with my man is bound up in many things: chemistry, desire, compatibility, engagement, spontaneity, attraction, captivation, need. We care about each other greatly and show this in the time we devote to each other, but not usually by having to physically take care of the other person on a day to day basis.
His total selflessness in the way he is looking after me has made me feel very meek and reflect on my good fortune of having him as my man.
I am not worthy.
When I first met him many years ago I knew that in some areas I was, as the phrase goes, batting above my weight. Such a situation could find me attempting to push the limits, needing to maintain a level of control. But at this time we had different lives to live. We parted amicably without knowing if we would ever meet again. However, it remained in my memory that It was not common for me to have met someone like him. I felt I slotted in with him so comfortably, while still maintaining high levels of adrenalin-fuelled feelings.
I certainly believed it was our destiny to find each other in another time, another place. Without him I would be a lesser person. Without him I would not challenge myself. Without him I would not experience immensely blissful times dotted with pure exasperation.
When I look at him, or the components of him, I am filled up inside with warmth and delight. When I listen to him I hear music. His scent fills my nostrils and desire rises in me. I touch him and I am often lost in another world where just the two of us exist.
These last few weeks have felt almost torturous for me at times. Not only am I captive but I am not allowed to feel his belt on my skin; his hand as it lands firmly on my face; his cock as it intrudes into my cunt before I am properly awake in the morning. At night I sniff the air and smell him, wanting to push my body against him and let him take control of me, in the way only he has been able to. I am not allowed.
I can now look back and see how lucky we have been. We have indulged ourselves in sexual hedonism tinged with deep desire and love. How many people are fortunate to get all that within their coupling?
Laying here I long for this illness to be over. I don’t think in general I took my life for granted, but once I am well and able I will be sure to savour every single moment. Living matters!
Today we ventured a bit further from the idyllic village where we are fortunate enough to be staying for the next few weeks. We had been to this beach once before and were surprised to find it occupied, as a local man had informed us that it was almost always deserted and you could bathe naked there.
To reach the beach we had to cross the cliff top where the terrain was full of rocks and brambles. The journey proved worth the effort as the shoreline was completely vacant, not a body in sight.
We laid our towels beside a tree for shade and began our picnic. This consisted of bread, cheese, tomatoes and lemoncilla. As the beach was still void of inhabitants we stripped bare and swam in the sea. It was glorious to feel how buoyant my large breasts became in the sea water. Weightless.
Warm and Relaxed
Laying out on the towels it was inevitable, in such a relaxed, charmed atmosphere, that we began to fondle each other. I always get great pleasure in looking at his cock when we are in our usual habitat, but here as I reached out to place it in my hand the allure seemed amplified.
With my long slim fingers I gently stroked its length and circled the tip with my thumb. As it began to swell he leaned over and caressed my nipples.
Spontaneously he jumped up, grabbed his shorts and suggested I follow him. I ran after him to an indented, even more secluded part of the beach.
“Lean against that rock,” he instructed.
Belt your Bitch on the Beach
I placed my hands against the rock face, my naked body still dripping from our swim. I could see him removing the belt from his shorts and knew what was coming next. The delicious warm leather struck my arse cheek with two or three blows in quick succession. Without deliberation he followed this with a strike to my shoulder. I took a sharp intake of breath. The sea crashed on the pebbled shore behind me, the sun beat down. I felt so alive.
He put the belt down and i turned to face him. I could see his cock stiff and ready.
“Suck it bitch,” he ordered.
I crouched and started licking his penis. It wasn’t long until it was fully taken in by my lips and submerged in my mouth. The taste was delightfully salty from the ocean. He held my head and thrust for his pleasure. Then he stopped and looked down at me. We laughed at our venture and headed back to our towels where we spent an agreeable hour or more reading and sunbathing.
If you liked “belt your bitch” read here why I am writing this type of blog.