Friday, February 25, 2005

Dip me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians

I read this on a T-shirt this week, nice tits too, but it was the only remotely funny thing that's happened to me.

People think my dark places are mostly inside knickers but actually I get almost as much pleasure from exploring emotions too. And wow, haven't I managed to supply myself with a wide range. However, let's be positive to start with. I've had lots of e-mails kindly offering cheerful thoughts and support. Thank you all - when you live a part of your life in public it's touching that people care.

I had several 'hugs' from nice people - and, of course, a couple where I was offered a big hug providing I took all my clothes off first! I've heard of the hand of friendship but this was ridiculous.

That's another emotional problem. Because I mostly write about sexy things, because that's what I mostly like, some readers think I'm a nymphomanic, latent, latex-clad lesbian licker. It's just not true. In the second act of my life, I've had two longish-term relationships (fingers and thighs crossed for my present one) a couple of 'affairs' and the odd gusset grabber. So based on my observations of Brighton promiscuity I'm practically pure.

This reputation hasn't helped my relationships much. Too much truth revealed I suppose, rather than retained in my mind.

My writing is my 'voice' it's not necessarily my total personality. It's how I think not necessarily how I act in day to day life. So my correspondants, who expect me to accept every invitation for a drink (and probably to turn up and ravish them roughly over the pub table) are puzzled when I appear shy and a bit reclusive. But that's the real me and probably, I'm like most of the other women in Brighton - apart from my friend Ms Rude who's 'wide open' for any invitation!

Perhaps I'll have to stop exposing sexy dark places and focus on others. Like revealing unknown lanes in Brighton or the wonderful array of stars in the dark sky over this scintillating city or previously missed corners of our more obscure museums. No more fantastical fucking, no more bondage, no more nudity, no more 'plastic vaginas'. Whatyathink?

Love (in a pure way) Sadie

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

There's a name for me and it begins with 'C'

Yes, it is that one. It certainly isn't caring or considerate. For once I don't feel like writing this but I actually believe that putting things into words can help. I certainly hope so!

I was sublimely happy yesterday. Cards, lunch, laughs and Valentine's night with my lover - what could go wrong?

Well, she arrived and did what she usually does when she gets back from London. This is to throw off her work clothes and then give me a good workover.

So what did I do? I produced my Valentine's surprise. A special pair of knickers (no, not the trashy pink ones) but something even trashier. It was something I'd spotted and ordered when I was amusing myself with the 'family-run sex shop'. It was a pair of 'three-dildo' latex panties, 'perfect for lesbians' the caption read. But then I've always been a sucker for great advertising.

Basically, there are two dildos inside and one big cock hanging outside. I'd imagined slipping these on and giving my girlfriend (and myself) a thrill,or two, or three.

However, my girlfriend was not amused and made it clear that it was she who wore the 'three-dildo' pants in this relationship.

I took acception to this. It was something that had been nagging at me since we met and now it was in the open so to speak. It was the giver/taker, dominant/submissive, top/bottom thing that's always present in gay love. Who does what to whom to be exact.

With men/women straight sex you sort of know the rules - you can change them but they exist. Men fuck, women are fuckees.

But woman/woman should be different. We should be equal but that's too simple, of course we aren't. Now I suppose if you looked at my girlfriend and me you'd come to certain conclusions. She's short-haired, natural make-up, flat chested, slim hipped and I'm girly, titty, red lippy, fleshy and big-bummed.

Easy isn't it. She's the 'bloke' and I'm the shag. But that's not the way I see it.

So I said some things. And then I said some worse things. Then she got angry with me. So I said some really, really bad things.

And now she's driving back to London. And I'm sobbing on the bed.

Fucking Valentine.


Monday, February 14, 2005

I didn’t get a Valentine's Card today.

I got three…weeeeeeeee! How uncool, I know. How taken in I’ve been by crass, commercial, sexist, invented bullshit…totally pathetic! But fuck, I got three…how many did you get?

One of them sported trashy satin hearts and a little love poem that had unusual rhymes for ‘hunt’ and ‘glass’ and ‘luck’. Wonder who sent that? The nuns at my local convent?Perhaps not, in fact I recognise the hand of my good friend Ms Rude (as many, many, many dykes have in Brighton!)

As for the other two cards, I have no idea. Isn’t that wonderful, someone secretly admires me, I’m so thrilled. So there, under my hard-arsed, cynical veneer is a little fluffy pussy cat….purrrrrrr!

They weren’t from my g/f, I’m sure of that. She doesn’t do “this sort of crap”. But I’m still excited. Because I know she’ll be here tonight with her special present – that gift of making me howl like a horny hyena.

So I’m in great spirits when Tommy and Calvin arrive to take me to lunch. And they’ve brought great spirits too – a bottle of tequila. We toast each other's luck in being in lurve on this sunny 14th of Feb. They’ve also brought me a gift - a pair of horrid pink polyester knickers that even Ann Summers would reject as tasteless.

They’re basically big shiny pants with a heart-shape cut out in the rear. Really, what sort of cheap slut would actually wear them?

Well, a couple of shots later and I decide it would be a great idea to model them. I nip into the bathroom, slip off my cool ‘coco de mers’ and pull the polypants on…instantly I feel a rash spreading over my naughty bits. I look in the mirror, a pale arse crack is framed in cheap pink satin. Could this be the sight that turns two confirmed shirt-lifters onto girls?

I dance out. Franz Ferdinand are playing ‘Take me out’ on the hi-fi. Tommy and Calvin laugh out loud on first seeing me then watch with a bemused expression as I waggle my bum in their faces.

It’s the kind of look that vegetarians would give a Big Mac. They’re quite attracted to the bun and the lettice but the meat inside isn’t to their taste.

The track ends and so does my display. Smart knickers go back on as (to Tommy and Calvin’s relief) do my ‘Seven’ jeans. And off we go to ‘Havana’.

I’m back. Great hilarious lunch and I’m relatively sober, preparing myself and my flat for g/f’s arrival. Well sober-ish. Well, fuck I’m wrotin this blooog arnt I?

Lov & kishes Sadie

Monday, February 07, 2005

Today, my theme is twats.

Yes it is, so watch how I seemingly effortlessly link my theme between several disparate items that have happened to me since I last posted, which is ages and ages ago (thanks Laura).

First I was at a Brighton party. It was some sort of Burns Night celebration…and a woman put her hand up my kilt. Ok, I wasn’t actually wearing a tartan pleaty skirty thingy but you get the point (I certainly did). We’d met, we’d drank wine, we’d chatted, we’d flirted, we’d drank more wine, we’d kissed, we’d drank more wine and…suddenly…my M&S ‘Truly you’ lingerie was getting a tactile examination. And, to add to my dilemma, the finger’s owner was suggesting that we adjourned to another, less public, room in the flat.

So what should I do? (By the way I’ve shared this drama with my g/f who took it surprisingly well). Right, what to do? My first thought was that old stand-up joke: a girl describing an encounter with a chap says: “ so I’m with this guy and he puts his hand up my skirt and I say: “ ‘ere tits first, what do you think I am – a slut?”

My second thought was a bit deeper (as her finger was getting). Back in the old days when I dated blokes there were set rules. What was happening to me this January night would have been described as ‘heavy petting’ and was therefore perfectly ok. Penetration with an erect cock was different and suggested some sort of commitment – if not marriage for life!

My third thought was: “So was this basically ok? Could we move into the spare bedroom and play around without endangering my steady relationship? It had taken my two long-term g/f’s a couple of dates and a good dinner before they literally got into my pants, so was I cheapening myself?

My fourth thought was: how would she react when she discovered that I wore M&S? God, and Sir Bob thinks he’s got problems with world poverty!
My fifth thought was: “you’ve done this before”
My sixth thought was: “mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm”

Seriously, it’s odd with gay sex. Mostly it isn’t about penetration, it’s much more about mutual masturbation (this applies to guys too, so I’m told). So how important are random encounters and what is a proper relationship?

Questions, questions! But what really got me thinking was how different my attitude to life and sex was after my exposure to the Brighton effect. I used to be much more hyper about this sort of situation and now I’m comparatively relaxed. I really do act and think differently now which is why…

…my attendance at a media/marketing/advertising party with my g/f seemed so strange. After an hour I truly believed that the room was full of damp, flappy pink things in human form. And yet I used to work in marketing (until a couple of years ago) when I was Susie Bright, the cheery chirpy ‘suit’ networking the room.

Now, I’m Sadie Dark and although I’d made an effort to dress and act in a suitable manner no one was fooled. Something’s happened to me and I’m sure that the ‘business bunnies’; my g/f’s colleagues, clients and friends could sense it. My g’f’s a bit vague about our relationship and I don’t blame her. Her world is very straight in spite of a few gay guys coming out and being revealed as a rug-muncher wouldn’t help her climb up her career ladder (although it’s me who tends to be on the rug and she’s on top, but sexist marketing jocks don’t discriminate)

So I stood lost amidst the loud “Hallllooooooo’s” and “where are you nows?” and talk of WPP, BBH and GREY, all those names that were important once but shadows now.

At times like this I get amazingly mad urges. When asked for the 100th time which company I worked for I was desperate to shout out “actually I write rude stuff about facesitting and strap-ons”. Then drop my sensibly tailored trousers, bend the party host, (a particularly offensive financial exec called Melanie) over the sofa, investigate her ‘bottom line’ then introduce her to full on dirty girl lurrrrrrrve.

But, of course, I didn’t. What I said was ‘actually I used to be in marketing but now I’m a writer in Brighton” And I’d watch them instantly lose interest.

The best fun all night was when a bloke hit on me. This was going well (ok, not very seriously girls) but then I saw Susie Bright. Yes it was me, working the room, laughing at the crap jokes and brown-nosing the partying arseholes. That was me 4 years ago…urgggg!…appalling! It shook me up – what a twat I was. I focussed on the guy again.

Sorry Brighton muffia, he was quite fanciable and I realised I still had a taste for meat, as well as fish!

Talking of lady’s bits, (and yes, here comes the next link) I was having a drink with my great friend Ms Hastings, who was singing the praises of that seaside town. We get on really well, she, like my other best friend Ms Rude, is a kind of “fuckfree buddy’ – we look like we’re doing it but we aren’t.

So she’s singing the praises of Hastings. As well as the renovated prom, the new bars and caf├ęs near the fishing sheds she (knowing my interests) also mentions that she read in the local paper that the town hosts the largest family run on-line ‘sex toys’ shop in the UK – and it’s their 20th anniversary.

Family-run!! I loved that bit, imagine the conversation around the breakfast table:

“How many times do I have to tell you? You’ve ordered a delivery of 10-inch dildos when you know we need 12 inch!”

“Sorry Mum”

Well a 20th birthday is something to celebrate so on getting back to the flat I opened wide my Mac and stimulated the little button that always leads to an orgasm of porn.

So say hello to Magic Moments on . Amongst the usual stuff of vibrators, anal beads, cock rings, clitoral stimulators and sexy bunny and devil outfits in un-natural fibres that give you rashes in delicate places, my imagination is caught by the offer of vibrating panties.

I read: Cleverly designed 100% Polyamide thong with concealed vibrator unit and attached control box. Vibrator is multi speed and thong is available in black or red.(I know where the vibrator goes but where do you conceal the control box???)

Well, and I thought my life was full. But my decision between black or red was postponed when I spotted ‘realistic vaginas’.

I had to look and I wasn’t disappointed. Here’s Barbie`s Fanny, a realistic real feel vagina, that will easily fit into any pocket, so that when the mood takes you, off you go! Has a lovely receptive entrance with enticing latex nodules inside to give added stimulation…all this and its just £10.99

Latex nodules, so that’s what we’re missing girls! And to make us all feel even more inadequate there’s a selection of ‘porn stars realistic Vaginas and Asses’.

Ok they’re perfect, no spots, moles, stubble or flabby bits - in fact they truthfully are a bit shiny and unreal. However, and trust me on this, they’re actually not as plasticy as a porn star’s real V&A.

First we had Crystal’s Salsa Shaker vibrating ass. I quote - here is Crystal’s (who she?) ultra soft, tight fitting vibrating ass. Fantastic Value! So tight you will think it’s the real thing! Some satisfied users say it is better than the real thing! (how would you know unless you were very, very close to Crystal? But I’ll take their word for it)The special cyber skin type material is soft just like real skin. If you enjoy the feeling of a tight anus(and go on admit we all do, don’t we) then you will be delighted with the satisfaction that Crystal can give. The multi speed control allows you to choose the level of pleasure you want.

Or there’s the Hustler Honey Buns pussy and ass, modelled on the Porn Star Kristi Myst (I’m not familiar with Ms Myst’s body of work either) Cum Taste The Honey!, it says. Two deep satisfying holes waiting for an eager cock!

Or there’s Penthouse Pet Alexus Winston’s dual Entry V&A, modelled directly from Alexus the gorgeous Penthouse Babe’s pussy and anus. Made in Cyberskin to give the ultimate experience in stimulation. Cyberskin is like real flesh(apparently), once you`ve tried the Cyberskin feel you won’t want anything else!

I bet. Hey, these must be really popular because the family behind the olde sex shoppe in Rock Close, Hastings claim over 1,250,000 customers a year. It got me thinking, there’s a real market here but you’d need a gimmick.

So how about the Sadie Dark realistic but practical V&A? You can use it to satisfy your most disgusting perversions, then after a quick rinse under the tap hang it on the kitchen wall. Here it’ll do sterling service as a handy kitchen roll holder and beer bottle opener.

What do you think?

Love & miaow Sadie