tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80099762024-03-13T08:51:39.472+00:00Sadie Dark PlacesExploring the dark places of the body and mind.Sadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-40367211840901989342012-09-28T16:31:00.000+01:002012-09-28T16:46:57.605+01:00Can fucking be funny?Hi,<br />
<br />
Here's a thought: can or should the act of love raise a laugh? Of course we know it happens all the time in real life. Sex is full of funny noises from piggy grunts to full blown fanny serenades. And what about those ridiculous 'ass over elbow' positions we find ourselves in? Let's admit it, we've all got the giggles between the sheets, even during the most passionate shagging.<br />
<br />
But what if it was happening between the sheets of a book? Can eruptions of laughter be combined with erotic writing? Many would say no and would use examples of the great classics. There aren't any (intentional) laughs in Venus in Furs, Fanny Hill, The Story of O etc. Well no, but surely it's possible to poke a bit of fun into porn. Putting books aside for the moment look at porn videos(go on,I know you do!). Everyone in them is very serious while they're seriously at it but just imagine if you added some inappropriate music or sounds to those 10 minute epics on Xhamster, Red Tube and Xvideos. A slice of the 'Benny Hill' theme, for instance, would really cheer up those relentless group sex gropings. And pop a 'squeaky door' sound onto a furious pumping scene and it would be hard not to smirk.<br />
<br />
So why can't literary fucking be funny? My book 'Felicity Does Fetish' tries to do this and I think it works (of course I would, wouldn't I?). After all most aspects of life from birth to death, including murder, adultery and war, have have been humorously treated by authors throughout the centuries so why not 'the act'? Well, I've given it my best and you can judge for yourself when it's published...<br />
<br />
...did I say 'when'? I should really have said 'if' because, at the moment, it seems unlikely to be gracing Amazon or Waterstone's unless I self-publish. Keeping to the subject of humour trying to get published is definitely unfunny. I'm on a website that helps new authors and they list the names of literary agents. They also ask writers to review how these companies treated them. The responses are split into 'negative' and 'positive'. Well you can guess the negative ones but the positive reviews amused me. 99% of them congratulated the agents for turning them down - politely!
However I'm not giving up until I get that orgasmic grunt of success. Back soon.<br />
<br />
Love & kisses Sadie xxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-35549769792696282552012-09-09T13:29:00.003+01:002012-09-10T23:22:42.430+01:00Susan's Secret Night Out. Her friends wouldn't believe what she gets up to!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RfpLGVxHBW17ojDSGIMgp_wmhVwC-5dWAJn54lK6HL6p1EfKnJHHrnl_SZvppvf16kkBXIk1Uoa5Y5ajMomOpriImeesmeMgcmlGy9FUc15zR26A2ehIAe_1IKeBsqaQt8iJzQ/s1600/MRTY_MRTY008_XL.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RfpLGVxHBW17ojDSGIMgp_wmhVwC-5dWAJn54lK6HL6p1EfKnJHHrnl_SZvppvf16kkBXIk1Uoa5Y5ajMomOpriImeesmeMgcmlGy9FUc15zR26A2ehIAe_1IKeBsqaQt8iJzQ/s400/MRTY_MRTY008_XL.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5786677056157155730" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://oystersandchocolate.com/Stories/2520/SusansSecretNightOut.aspx">Fun Sexy Erotica - Susan's Secret Night Out</a><br /><br />Well, well I'm soooo pleased. This is my first short story published on the deliciously sexy Oysters & Chocolate website run by the deliciously sexy Jordan and Samantha. If this gives you a taste for absolute naughtiness you must try some of the other decadent delicacies on O&C. I couldn't stop reading, but then I'm a greedy girl.<br /><br />Love & kisses Sadie xxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-74336213645459267122012-05-08T12:22:00.002+01:002012-05-08T12:23:10.546+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFnajmSk9ro66huGdx5Vfj5ak0qnNGvpgRdaTYHTTNjOH283YQrCL0yQ47dlYr2iCTGfVtGXV45SgLGNzRbRWzpJy3b7zgaYW9IqJx0rtF8s5pDBdBhXtYE07fuKAEubiTXO34LA/s1600/thumbnail.aspx.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFnajmSk9ro66huGdx5Vfj5ak0qnNGvpgRdaTYHTTNjOH283YQrCL0yQ47dlYr2iCTGfVtGXV45SgLGNzRbRWzpJy3b7zgaYW9IqJx0rtF8s5pDBdBhXtYE07fuKAEubiTXO34LA/s400/thumbnail.aspx.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5740121472760040850" /></a><br />Hi,<br /><br />There’s been a lot of talk recently about preventing kids accessing porn on the Internet. A whole orgasm of serious ‘glasses and no make-up’ sexperts and several publicity seeking MP’s have been pressing to change the way Internet Providers offer safeguards. <br /><br />Currently parents can decide to block porn sites if they wish and the providers give them ‘button’s’ to do this. The Nanny No-funs want porn sites to be automatically blocked by the Internet providing companies so that adults have to apply (and give information) so that they can be ‘given’ access by their provider.<br /><br />Now this has undertones of Big Brother (and I mean the Orwell version, of course). I’m sure PC Plod when they’re not ignoring burglaries will be interested in these details. As will employers, news organizations and god know who else? Fortunately, providers like BT are currently saying “No”.<br /><br />So fascist states apart, what’s my problem. Well, like most sensible people, I’m obviously against underage sex, pedophiles and real violence on the Internet. But is sex the worst thing we can let children watch? Just look at what parents let them see on the cinema and TV.<br /><br />Why is a man sticking his cock in a woman bad, but a man sticking a knife into a woman ok? Now I know the latter is acting but today the simulation is so good. Gruesome killing, torture, blood, gore, corpses etc are on most multi-plexes most weeks and the kids love them. Most TV schedules are packed with cop shows, dull procedures spiced with bodies and serial killers. And what’s this fascination with forensics all about? Naked corpses on slabs, body parts in ‘butcher shop detail’ and more obscene deaths yet Silent Witness etc is extremely popular with sensible adults, most parents, who probably don’t mind their kids watching with them. My friends think ‘Dexter’ is great. He’s a twisted serial killer who cuts up other serial killers. “What are you thinking?” I say. “Oh it’s so funny” they say. Well I think it’s them that’s a bit funny!<br /><br />But it’s not this perverse viewing that’s being regulated it’s the naughty stuff. It denigrates women they say. Well tell that to the millions of women around the world who get a healthy thrill watching porn with their partners. It’s the perfect little bit of titillation before the ‘act’, so to speak. Of course, anything that becomes an obsession is a bit worrying but like food and drink most people can regulate their porn consumption without too much trouble.<br /><br />And unlike Hollywood and TV Porn is in no way age, race or body conscious. Apart from the plastic people and the muscle mary’s, there are old, fat, thin, black, Asian…the list of shape, size and colours goes on and on and I haven’t go round to genders yet.<br /><br />So people have choice. If you feel the ‘adult professionals’ are being exploited watch amateur stuff. Everybody wants to be famous fuckers (for 15 minutes, if you’re lucky girls!)<br />Porn’s been around for millenniums and unlike the other P’s, power, priests, possessions and politics no one’s been massacred over it. So please regulators, leave porn alone and focus on the real dangers to our kids – snack manufacturers, booze companies and Justin Bieber!<br /><br />Love & kisses Sadie (just about to have a peep at Xhamster) xxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-18325067265134013732012-04-25T11:39:00.006+01:002012-05-06T13:59:18.071+01:00Hot sunny sex on a rainy day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKM3zSLYy5EvKJRTTPxEQDyYneICNZLHE_4rvowMch3vBvVMQOFWs63zIm9HOMIfYqyEmjeXjqIWPUYULEFC7lnWnqTAqE8xfSmcMTk-dNWQQs6IwtF8amjY9XDfrnpAOS4Sr_zA/s1600/met-art_sg_320_0_tn.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 113px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKM3zSLYy5EvKJRTTPxEQDyYneICNZLHE_4rvowMch3vBvVMQOFWs63zIm9HOMIfYqyEmjeXjqIWPUYULEFC7lnWnqTAqE8xfSmcMTk-dNWQQs6IwtF8amjY9XDfrnpAOS4Sr_zA/s400/met-art_sg_320_0_tn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5735288421734253698" /></a><br />I'm sitting here staring out at the cold rain sweeping along the Brighton pavements and shoppers huddled like old women fighting the storm...<br /><br />... but I'm dreaming of a hot sunny afternoon on the beach.<br /><br />The woman passed me at this time every day on her walk up and down the beach. She idly paddled along the shore, a typical American mum, (but a bit of a Meg Ryan look-a-like) in her typical one piece bathing suit. I noticed her studying me as she passed by so I studied her too and liked what I saw. The first time our eyes met, she said "Hi" and carried on, I watched her go, she had a really nice bum. Next day she added 'How you doing?" The next time she stopped and said:<br /><br />"Hot enough for you?" <br /><br />"It's really a bit too hot" I replied. She was staring intently at my face, and my body. But that's what woman do so I didn't pay it much attention.<br /><br />"You British?" she asked smiling<br /><br />"I am, is it obvious?" I said to the eternal question when you open your mouth in the States"<br /><br />"Cool, I just love your accent"<br /><br />She came over and sat on the wooden fence that surrounded my beach house, just opposite to where I was relaxing on my lounger.<br /><br />We talked of her trip to London, shopping, that sort of thing. And all the time her eyes were closely examining parts of my body. Then in that great straightforward way Americans have, she suddenly said:<br /><br />"You're very brave wearing that bikini"<br /><br />"Why?" I replied, a bit surprised at the sudden change in our chat.<br /><br />"It's..." she raised her eyebrows, "it's...very revealing, you know?"<br /><br />It was hot and I was feeling a little horny so I decided to make a pass. If it failed she'd go off in a huff but so what, I was going home in a couple of days.<br /><br />'It probably is, but so's your one piece"<br /><br />Now she was puzzled.<br /><br />"How so?"<br /><br />"Well Darling, your safe but tight fitting one piece is revealing the shape of your lovely tits, particular the nipples that are clearly pleased to see me. And your great ass is nicely defined and well, from how you're sitting, I can see the outlines of your pussy almost as if you were naked!"<br /><br />"Oh" she said, a hand rather sweetly moving down to shield the plump rippled mound between her thighs.<br /><br />I waited, smiling at her and cheekily licking my lips.<br /><br />She got down from fence and stepped closer to me. She was smiling now.<br /><br />"And do you like what you see?" she said teasingly.<br /><br />"You bet" I whispered, reaching out and holding her hand.<br /><br />"Well, what do you want to do about it honey?"<br /><br />I smiled at her and licked my lips again, this time in an OTT way.<br /><br />She laughed. "Well hun, I can see just about everything you've got...and I like it too"<br /><br />I twisted around and opened my legs wide, so that my tiny bikini "V" barely covered my modesty. I can play the slut when I want too and I fancied corrupting this nice American mum. Meg's gaze was fixed on my flaps.<br /><br />So I stood up, looked around and saw the beach was empty. Fuck, it was time to live and love a little more dangerously. So I unclipped my bra,undid the strings of my pouch and stood naked before Meg.<br /><br />"Now you can see absolutely everything... so what are you going to do about it"<br /><br />Meg looked around but when she was certain we were alone she relaxed a bit and got sassy again.<br /><br />"I just love those white bits"<br /><br />"Yea" I replied, "they clearly mark the fun places...I really love to see your white bits...wanna play?"<br /><br />"Sure, but unlike you Brits, we're a bit old fashioned about these things so can we go inside?"<br /><br />I turned and walked into my lounge area making sure I swung my ass provocatively.<br />Meg followed and stopped inside. <br /><br />"Ok Sadie", she said, "let's do this but do you agree anything goes"<br /><br />"Sure Darling, anything you want" I casually replied...oooops!<br /><br />I didn't want to waste time so I locked my lips to her lips and my hands to her ass cheeks. Her hands wandered uncertainly up and down my back and finally decided on the white bits of my big bum. We kissed and groped for several minutes, then she broke away.<br /><br />"Give me a minute honeybun"<br /><br />"Sure Darling" I said, wondering why. Perhaps the excitement had affected her bladder or she wanted to 'freshen herself up' as our cousins say. I went looking for some wine so didn't notice the phone in her hand.<br /><br />When she came back I decided it was time to get that one piece off.It had a tiny zip and was a bit of stretch over her hips but it soon hit the floor and she was naked too.<br /><br />She had a much better colour than me which emphasized the tan lines. She'd obviously once worn much briefer swimwear as the white bits merely focused my attention on her very suckable nipples and that gorgeous V between her thigh. I turned her around, knelt down and kissed the white V across her ass crack, then I bit her and felt her jump.<br /><br />"Oh God" she moaned. I spread her ass and my pink tongue sought out her pink bits.<br /><br />"Oh my God" she cried out now and I wondered if I was going too fast. This could be her first time with a woman and I didn't want to come on like Vulvina, The Cannibal Queen of Lesbos! So I got up and sucked on her nipples and liked the salt off her tits like a good girl and Meg seemed to relax, and get turned on at the same time, so that was good.<br /><br />She had a great sexy body created by the great US lifestyle, big healthy tits and a fantastic soft squeezable, bury-your-face-in ass. She was a tiny bit overweight (but that was sexy too) No doubt her cunt would be prime American meat too.<br /><br />I was hoping to encourage her to start a feeding frenzy on me but she seemed content to let me make the pace. Ok, that could be fun too so it was time to get her lengthways.<br /><br />I led her to the couch and pushed her back onto it. Then I buried my head between her thighs. Which was why I didn't hear Tom come in!<br /><br />'Hi Honey"<br /><br />"Hi Babe"<br /><br />They had loud voices and that cut in over my sucking sounds. It was my turn to be shocked. I got up and found myself facing a man in shorts with a large camera case over his shoulder.<br /><br />"Hi, Sadie, this is my husband Tom"<br /><br />"What the fuck?" I said, losing my cool. But a woman caught mid-muff diving and now standing naked has lost all her authority.<br /><br />"Look hun" said Meg, suddenly firm, and although also naked,rather in control,"we agreed anything goes, so I'm happy to do any fucking thing you have in mind...as long as Tom watches and, oh yes, films it, you don't mind do you?" <br /><br />"Well, I..I.." I stammered, so goodbye Ms Cool Brit.<br /><br />Meg came up and put an arm around me. Two naked woman having a conversation on the sofa whilst Tom set up his movie camera.<br /><br />"Tom and I have a kind of open marriage if you know what I mean? I like a lot of things outside of, you know, husband/wife stuff. So we've done swingers parties, my girlfriends and me have had a couple of those big black guys in hotel rooms, you know? But although the girls and I have played around some I've never been with a real, you know, lesbian"<br /><br />I was about to say "Excuse me, I'm not a lesbian I'm bi-sexual" but in this company and in my English accent it would have just sounded silly.<br /><br />"Ok babe, I'm ready" said Tom. <br /><br />And I saw I was looking at the critical eye of a Samsung something or other. Tom's words stirred Meg into action and she suddenly found my nipples fascinating.<br /><br />"Suck on them baby" directed Tom. <br /><br />Meg did as obeyed. Then Tom got closer and his ideas took off.<br /><br />He filmed us in position 69. With Meg feasting on my asshole and me working away somewhere below her.<br /><br />"Don't worry, Tom ensures your face won't be too obvious" Meg gasped reassuringly.<br /><br />"Stick your tongue deep in her hole" Tom advised, then he devised a new scenario.<br /><br />So I found my face now squashed under Meg's big soft butt and too think that's what first attracted me to her!<br /><br />"Rub your cunt into her face, stop her breathing", Tom was getting excited. But Meg was a kinder person and for a second her ass cheeks moved off my face and I turned to breathe in deeply. Tom was very excited, a fact that was confirmed by the fat cock in his hand being vigorously agitated so I....<br /><br />...I've stopped dreaming in my Brighton cafe and again focused on damp streets rather than damp sheets. I'm looking at my computer screen.<br /><br />Gotta finish my story..<br /><br />Love & Kisses Sadie xxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-27233136804464274192012-04-12T13:33:00.004+01:002012-04-12T14:08:16.977+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21xyiPa86TvTVrMvjSTX9UiHX5YltYtpm_CoojY6p_C1EPr1_nzo0o92tV7oPABf_2tly5p9rPoPkm3z97hkqBH4i6B3Hdcrx6hflHr9noj4aAIGlG8ipbccg4bR_kuCCRqKCaA/s1600/images.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21xyiPa86TvTVrMvjSTX9UiHX5YltYtpm_CoojY6p_C1EPr1_nzo0o92tV7oPABf_2tly5p9rPoPkm3z97hkqBH4i6B3Hdcrx6hflHr9noj4aAIGlG8ipbccg4bR_kuCCRqKCaA/s400/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730494690955044930" /></a><br /><br />Well hello,<br /><br />I've noticed that people accessing this blog are now met by this stern warning:<span style="font-style:italic;">Some readers of this blog have contacted Google because they believe that this blog's content is objectionable</span> They are then invited to press ahead fearlessly or run away screaming.<br /><br />Cripes! Moi-objectionable? Louche perhaps, salacious maybe, a touch up the naughty side of the street you might say but something people might object to, like spitting in the street, Keira Knightley or beards? No that's just too too tearmaking!<br /><br />So before I retire to sob quietly in my bedroom here's something I wrote for a fan site a year or so ago. It's about a dream, a well known and highly renowned singer/author/film director and lot's of healthy activity. What could possibly be objectionable about that?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Madonna’s Nude Massage by Sadie Dark<br /></span><br />Last night I dreamed that I gave Madonna a massage. I work in a famous health and beauty salon in Knightsbridge. I've been there for two years and am one of their most experienced masseuse. I have famous clients and although I am very professional I have to admit that the sight of their naked bodies gives me a thrill, particularly the women.<br /><br />I hear her before I see her. Her accent cuts through the posh English atmosphere. <br /><br />"What the fuck is going on?" <br /><br />"I'm sorry Madam…"<br /><br />Now it's the voice of the manager,<br /><br />"… but Claire has been involved a car accident on her way to work" <br /><br />She's persistent: "But I always have Claire, shit! why wasn't I told?" <br /><br />I hear the manager's voice calm and reassuring. <br /><br />"It happened this morning, we couldn't reach your mobile and your PA said you had already left"<br /><br />"Shit - now what am I going to do?"<br /><br />I peek out of my room. She's standing there facing the manager. Her back is turned to me but I catch my breath. <br /><br />Her hair, worn long, gleams as it falls down past her shoulders, my eyes move down, past her tight silk shirt to her bum, perfectly displayed in tight satin combat pants. Her hands rest aggressively on her hips and as she shifts the weight her bum cheeks move sensually beneath the thin fabric.<br /><br />The manager catches sight of me and says something quietly. The beautiful hair starts to turn and one of the most famous faces in the world looks angrily in my direction.<br /><br />The manager leads her over talking in her reassuring way. <br /><br />"Sadie is one of London's leading masseurs. I'm sure you'll find her every bit as expert as Claire"<br /><br />I'm looking nervous but I expect she's used to that in all the people she meets for the first time.<br /><br />She's looking unimpressed. But the manager continues, delivering what she considers will be the most persuasive argument. <br /><br />"Sadie has many other famous clients: Kate...Naomi...Gwyneth…and Britney books her solid whenever she's in town"<br /><br />The beautiful eyes soften. She looks at her watch. Her luscious lips part into a hint of a smile. She looks at me, stares into my eyes, sees something she likes and then speaks:<br /><br />"Ok, lets go"<br /><br />She brushes past me into my small treatment room and I close the door She walks over to the table and leans provocatively against it.<br /><br />Her lips are moist and gleaming. She folds her arms under her tits and her nipples press through her silk shirt. Her tight pants enhance her long legs and as she moves the fabric is caught suggestively in the V of her crotch. She speaks, in a rather teasing manner:<br /><br />"OK Sadie, Claire knows what I like, how about you?”<br /><br />"I have Claire's notes" I reply seriously. She smiles and says softly:<br /><br />"OK let's begin"<br /><br />I reach for a towel and indicate the dressing room. But she just laughs.<br /><br />"I haven't got fucking time for all that" <br /><br />With that she unbuttons her shirt and slips it off. She's wearing a plain white bra, simple but perfect when set against her toned, tanned flesh. She reaches behind her and the bra falls away. Her tits are stunning, still firm with big sexy nipples that are already aroused. <br /><br />I'm breathless, desperately trying to say calm and professional. Of course, I've seen her naked, everybody has, in books, magazines and movies. But this is so different, she's just inches from me, I could almost reach out and touch her. <br /><br />And, lets face it, that's exactly what I'm going to do.<br /><br />She's very matter of fact. She slips off her trainers and unbuckles her belt. Then she slides the pants off. She straightens up to put the pants over a chair and gives me a view of her white thong. I can't take my eyes off the V shape, pure white against her tanned skin and filled out with her plump mound. For a second, I forget where I am and get that wonderful feeling between my thighs.<br /><br />I come to and she's staring at me. She's giving me a quizzical smile that I'm sure many favoured men have witnessed - and maybe a few women. <br /><br />But then she reaches down and the thong is off. She's almost completely shaved with just a thin 'landing strip' of pubic hair. She poses for a minute, her eyes are locked on mine and her lips still form that teasing smile. Then she sits up on the table, swings her legs over and lies back. <br /><br />Completely naked, relaxed and waiting for me to give her a full body massage.<br /><br />I have my own special blend of oil. I walk behind her and ask her to sit up. She slips a band over her hair and I begin to massage her shoulders. I pour the oil in my hands and work at the muscles. I'm good and within minutes she's sighing gently.<br /><br />I take my time but soon I've finished her neck, shoulders and arms. She lies back and I carefully start on her face. I know every place to apply pressure and she's now totally relaxed. But my finger brushes her full lips, and they part, wet and succulent, I leave my finger there for less than a second, her eyes open and she's gazing intently at me. She smiles and then relaxes again and quietly speaks:<br /><br />"I think you could be better than Claire"<br /><br />"Thank you" I say feeling flustered. I need more oil so I go over to my case. As I bend to open it I hear a little giggle. Her voice sings out teasingly:<br /><br />"Hey Sadie, you're a bit of a dark horse. You look so fucking proper in that fucking nurses' outfit"<br /><br />I stand up and turn, looking puzzled. She's leaning over and smirking at me.<br /><br />"But underneath that starchy outfit I can spy a naughty little thong...tell me your secrets Sadie" and she giggles again.<br /><br />That bloody uniform, we're always complaining that you can see through it but the management (mostly male) don't care. <br /><br />But then I look at her and see that she's flirting with me and, suddenly, I feel sexy. My tarty thongs have been my secret, my rebellion against the stiff atmosphere of the salon, and now I'm sharing it with...her. <br /><br />I take more oil into my hands and cup her right tit. The nipple is unashamedly erect but, as I gently massage the taut skin around her pinky-brown circles, it seems to swell even more. The oil slowly dribbles down its length and I catch it between my finger and thumb and slide the oil off. As I gently pull on her nipple and release it I hear her sigh.<br /><br />Now both her breasts glisten with oil. My hands mould them and pinch them and my thumbs circle the tips of her nipples.<br /><br />Oil trickles between her tits and runs down over her belly. I lean across to catch it and my sleeve rubs against her skin. Her eyes jerk open.<br /><br />"What the fuck was that? I'm getting really relaxed and then I feel that shit against my skin"<br /><br />"I'm sorry" I say, trying unsuccessfully to roll my sleeve up.<br /><br />She glares at me and snarls.<br /><br />"I didn't pay to be rubbed down with fucking cheap cloth...take it off"<br /><br />"Sorry?" <br /><br />"Take the fucking thing off or I'm out of here"<br /><br />I pause, think, then - what the hell? Just the slide of a zip and then the whole boring uniform slides to the floor. I have quite small tits so I don't wear a bra. <br /><br />So, except for a pale pink thong with a little diamond above my arse crack I'm now standing there - naked in front of Madonna.<br /><br />She looks me up and down and blows me an ironic kiss. Then giggling she turns over on the table so I can do her back.<br /><br />I pour the oil into the little dip just above the rise of her buttocks. I smooth it over her back and work on the muscles. As I put my weight into digging deep into the tissue I lean across her and my nipples brush against her back. This happen several times, she wriggles with pleasure and the sensations in my nerve-endings almost cause me to lose concentration. <br /><br />Now I'm covered in oil too - and sweat. Is it my strenuous actions or the proximity of my nude idol? I'm not sure but what happen next really gets me glowing.<br /><br />I trickle oil into the crack of her arse. I watch her cheeks move sensually as the warm liquid reaches, first, her anus then the outer lips of her cunt. With the flat of my hand I massage first her right cheek then her left one. Her bum is firm and toned. The skin is beautifully elastic and my fingers dig into the soft rubbery flesh. I now manipulate each cheek and as they part I glimpse her tight pinky-brown arsehole. <br /><br />The intimacy of this moment shocks me. This is a sight reserved for lovers and now it's mine. I feel moistness between my thighs, my thong feels tight, forcing apart the swelling lips of my cunt.<br /><br />In the heat of this moment I forget what I'm supposed to be doing. My finger drenched in aromatic oil investigates the opening of her anus and within seconds is sucked in. I pump the finger slowly as the tight walls try to grip it. <br /><br />She reacts, her buttocks clench, but then as my finger sinks deeper she relaxes and gives a long low moan. Lubricated with oil, I slip a second finger into her greedy arsehole and rhythmically fuck her.<br /><br />Her cunt lips gleam. It could be oil but I'm sure it's juice. I can't believe it, little old me with my small tits, big bum and bandy legs - and I'm stimulating the sexiest woman on earth.<br /><br />She moans again and her thighs part. Her cunt is totally beautifully and I'm drawn to it. I trace the edge of her lips with my thumb until I find the hood and reveal her clit. It rises to my touch as my thumb ever so gently massages it. I lean closer and closer and replace the sensation of my thumb with the touch of my tongue. My tongue bathes in her moist lusciousness, it finds her clit and teases it. <br /><br />Her movements once languorous become more violent. She gasps and her buttocks squirm with pleasure. Then she turns over, her legs wide, her cunt thrown open to me. I move round to greedily gorge myself. <br /><br />And then her hand moves upwards.<br /><br />I feel it blunder up my oily legs, grab at my bum, then find its target between my legs. A rude finger forces my thong aside and slips up into my juicy cunt.<br /><br />The sensation of pleasure forces me upright. I feel like I'm pivoting on her searching finger. But then she speaks huskily:<br /><br />"Let's do 69, lets both have a fucking good time, 69 eh babe?"<br /><br />I slip off my thong, walk around to the top of the table and climb on. Her gleaming brown body lies before me and it's all mine to enjoy. I kneel above her face and then lean forward towards her splayed legs. <br /><br />As I go to bury myself in her cunt I sink down and my arse rests on her face. She grabs my cheeks and pulls them apart and her tongue tickles that place of ecstasy between my arsehole and my cunt. My tongue slips into her and her tongue slips up into me. Our oiled bodies move together then stretch, then tighten, while our moans intermingle as we lose ourselves in lust. And then the door opens.<br /><br />Naked and exposed, we both look up. The door opens more and Cameron Diaz walks into the room. Dressed in a towelling robe, she stops and coolly surveys us. She smiles, lets her robe drop to the floor and steps towards the table…<br /><br />...but that's another dream! <br /><br />Sadie Dark ©<br /><br />There, just a bit of fun. Fortunately Google take a very adult view to all this and cheers for them.<br /><br />Back soon.<br /><br />Love & Kisses Sadie xxxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-13009528337450816092012-04-11T00:46:00.002+01:002012-04-11T00:53:51.845+01:00I'm really back this time - promise<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFYy6643k6Dz0-7Y-dU4KJoiMG58AKDYzyMwYv2wiRws7Ms7alVI3GMkuUgGWODAKjHLKIidHEqzgk926QNtKsxMnsCvG4dOhcwJH1JMHAMUuLadcQZY2m6BizxKiI07lBwm0XnA/s1600/Fetish01_7.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFYy6643k6Dz0-7Y-dU4KJoiMG58AKDYzyMwYv2wiRws7Ms7alVI3GMkuUgGWODAKjHLKIidHEqzgk926QNtKsxMnsCvG4dOhcwJH1JMHAMUuLadcQZY2m6BizxKiI07lBwm0XnA/s400/Fetish01_7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729922967863533874" /></a><br /><br />Hi,<br /><br />Ok,I know, I've been threatening to start this blog again for months/years. But now, after I've got over a spot of illness (boring) I'm back in rude health. Well rude anyway, as usual - but that's the way you like it.<br /><br />Love & Kisses Sadie xxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-32366899869589730812011-08-15T15:38:00.002+01:002011-08-15T16:08:05.315+01:00Between the sheets<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7saEapSmpdDTRAZ8FgRgPv2c-m68w0YAh4keZT6lurChYHPpkGzm4a6BdDy2ZxwJBKngkx3m6JJr-IxSbRs-wLilstp0N4jYoyGYrZGxpqUCz3_rNQ-rswldcjec1aCvmv24pg/s1600/Fetish01_7.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7saEapSmpdDTRAZ8FgRgPv2c-m68w0YAh4keZT6lurChYHPpkGzm4a6BdDy2ZxwJBKngkx3m6JJr-IxSbRs-wLilstp0N4jYoyGYrZGxpqUCz3_rNQ-rswldcjec1aCvmv24pg/s400/Fetish01_7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641099633115528994" /></a>
<br />I know the sheets I'm usually talking about are linen (if I'm lucky) or more likely from the IKEA sale. But the action this time is literary rather than lusty and so the sheets are paper. Yes, I'm on the last chapter of my book - at last...amazing...never thought she'd finish it..are those flying porkers etc etc. But it's true, I'm almost done. It has taken a long time that's for sure. But there's been those months when I was too busy earning a living or been ill or truthfully just given up.
<br />
<br />There's always that feeling that writing a book is a bit of a fantasy (and everyone's got a half finished one in a drawer) But as I sit here all those chapters and all those "sheets" are on my Mac. Morgan (my co-writer) has been equally caught up doing other stuff but now he's a little less busy flogging crap on TV (that's advertisingese for out of a job) he can apply his humorous hand to our opus.
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<br />Now we need an agent. It's hard to know who'd be interested in promoting a no holds barred romp about the world of S&M. Is there anyone out there who could help? Otherwise we'll just trawl the interet for the right literary shark (in the nicest possible way of course)
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<br />I'm actually in France at the moment (at my friends). I really haven't been well recently and so my life has been full of trauma but free of sexual partners - boring!
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<br />I think it's time to get out into our late summer and make some hay! Or plough some bushy meadows! Or linger in lady gardens! See even my sexy metaphors are literary now!
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<br />Love & Kisses
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<br />SadiexxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-79925048462022165952011-03-08T23:24:00.003+00:002011-03-08T23:32:31.998+00:00SADIE'S BACK<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YKsRKTtpnlkMG03VLmI-uiburuPvHDmRkfw4B1bZYPDRI9IZ4O9bvmrQnOI76zVn10QeWQTAb_cmenBJGxA5qg043Xr7ihmB5ZFYjdn3omSW4imb9LpjWdK6NxAB9ExYJAVvCg/s1600/attachment.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YKsRKTtpnlkMG03VLmI-uiburuPvHDmRkfw4B1bZYPDRI9IZ4O9bvmrQnOI76zVn10QeWQTAb_cmenBJGxA5qg043Xr7ihmB5ZFYjdn3omSW4imb9LpjWdK6NxAB9ExYJAVvCg/s400/attachment.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581855568704762082" /></a><br /><br />OK so I've been a bit absent, OK so it's been a year and three months.Be honest has anything happened to you over the last 15 recession hit, war-torn, disaster- full months that has been worth publishing on a blog. Well has it? - not to me anyway! Still here I am ready for the off - so a hell of a hello to you all!<br /><br />Love & Kisses Sadie xxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-53701143046831124182009-12-31T19:15:00.005+00:002010-01-01T01:32:06.933+00:00Here's to a little 20tenderness.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-0aJTbnaqR5eWowGBSiu1Jo4ChW6mxbh909g9mcffpufigAasHlFj7bKirstRCwD4-HnZ-fQSdrLA-kSdhd1GByfz7fxB1q-cQH0KRJl7Y1qKR18P8yE43oJm2ByC863XIbkUw/s1600-h/nurse.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-0aJTbnaqR5eWowGBSiu1Jo4ChW6mxbh909g9mcffpufigAasHlFj7bKirstRCwD4-HnZ-fQSdrLA-kSdhd1GByfz7fxB1q-cQH0KRJl7Y1qKR18P8yE43oJm2ByC863XIbkUw/s400/nurse.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421502945483195298" /></a><br /><br /><br />Well the statuary six months has passed since my last posting and I'm sure sorry seems the hardest word for my blog friends to understand.<br /><br />So let me get it out of the way: Brighton, sun, rain, sex, no-sex, France, rain, friend ill so Sadie's been a nurse* since September, not much book writing, family troubles, not much hot bed action, not much news - thank you and fuck off 2009!<br /><br />* I can't believe many of my readers wouldn't have paused for a second or two at the nurse reference, dirty boys and girls. But yes, whilst I administered to my patient I naturally wore the standard nurse's uniform: a low cut,bursting-out blue top with watch hanging from my tit, a tiny frilly apron and a blue miniskirt. As I bent over to remove the chamber pot everyone in the room was rewarded with a view of my tiny white knickers and many a injection was mistakingly placed into a patient's arse. Oooooooh matron!<br /><br />So what does the new year mean to me? Easy, I'VE GOT TO FINISH MY FUCKING BOOK!!!!!!<br /><br />I'm actually almost at the end. I've been re-doing bits and that's held me up. Morgan's been phenominally busy and we haven't had much chance to meet up and work. The last chapters are supposed to describe "The fuck of the century". The century is only nine years old so this isn't a great overclaim but it is naturally taking some effort to keep out these pages out of the "Bad Sex Literary awards".<br /><br />Speaking of writing and sex I recently read a piece in the Sunday Times that said lesbianism was getting more open. Well the writer has obviously never been to some Brighton pubs and clubs on a Saturday night. Talk about open - jean flies are gaping wide as are the pink lady curtains and naughty fingers are playing a girl's favourite game. But back to the article, it was suggesting that more famous lady lovers were making their preferences public. This included Alison Goldfrapp, Mary Portas, Jeanette Winterson and Susie Orbach.<br /><br />Well Dear, we've all known about them for ages and there are several more famous actresses, writers and singers who haven't been quite as up front about their girly front bottom fun. I could name them but Blogger might disappear under the libel actions and, anyway, it's supposed to the time for good cheer to all men (and women).<br /><br />So, apart fom my resolution to write a more regular blogs AND FINISH MY BOOK it's now time to wish you all a fantastic, fun-filled, fuck-filled New Year.<br /><br />Love & Kisses Sadie<br /><br />xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-80140916901273209182009-06-20T17:58:00.003+01:002009-06-22T15:39:34.802+01:00Different strokes from different folks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIcZJ76a24OdTj-nNpTncedp5Z8ndZvTMtXE5mlfo_cNd0xe8jIf1SUICLftA_DchVh16puSbNtalAXB-xwVuTHsXkGsmw-8DlxRlhKGrU92kMUJzV_Fv8w3c65zYYHnNM_iI-g/s1600-h/fa20090611_p013.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIcZJ76a24OdTj-nNpTncedp5Z8ndZvTMtXE5mlfo_cNd0xe8jIf1SUICLftA_DchVh16puSbNtalAXB-xwVuTHsXkGsmw-8DlxRlhKGrU92kMUJzV_Fv8w3c65zYYHnNM_iI-g/s400/fa20090611_p013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350161172780817330" /></a><br /> <br /><br />...now where was I? Oh yes that's right it was January and now it's June (sounds a bit like a song). But sadly the only song my lack of blog writing evokes is 'Sorry'. <br /><br />I won't bore you with my usual excuses, time, book-writing, personal disasters etc etc but I ask for your forgiveness and request suitable punishment for my tardiness. In fact, I'll present my metaphorical bum to you, drop my pants and let you deliver a merciless metaphorical thrashing.<br /><br />Feel better? Good. So now let's get on with revealing the dark places I've delved into over the past few months. Well, first there's my mind. Over the course of researching my book I've viewed and read about, but mostly I've experienced, some of the most extraordinary scenes of hanky panky with a lot of spanky added in. And now my head is overstuffed with images and sounds of what human beings will do for spiritual and sexual satisfaction. Most of this, I’m pleased to say is being channelled into my writing – but my god, is there nothing people won’t do for an orgasm?<br /><br />When I started out on my ‘journey’ I was a recently divorced straight woman. Well, I was certainly divorced from the ‘scene’ (as us BDSM buddies call it). But now…!!<br /><br />Well, you’ve hopefully read what I’ve got up to (and down to) over the past year or so. So briefly have I added any new ‘dark places’ to my pervy portfolio?<br /><br />Nothing totally outrageous I’m sorry to report. I’m still ‘single’ with no permanent girlfriend, just the ones I meet in the café I mentioned in another blog.<br /><br />I visit this once or twice a week. The form for Ladies who wish to Lunch on other Ladies is simple. You sit at a table on your own or go to a table with a single woman (of the right age etc) and you say, or the newcomer says “Is this chair free?” or something politely British.<br /><br />Then you sit for a while before you speak (we aren’t Americans you know). Then you smile and she smiles and you start chatting. About 7 times out of 10 this is as far as it goes and the conversation is just a ‘girly chat’ that inevitably turns to what a bastard her boyfriend/ husband is.<br /><br />But occasionally there’s something in the look she’s giving you and you try to return it. The conversation turns to clubs where girls go or she comments on your jeans in a frankly intimate way, or she gives you a rather sexual lookover when you return from the loo and you’re on. “ Let’s go back to my flat for another coffee/ look at my clothes/ books or whatever you’ve been talking about” you/she says and you leave together.<br /><br />The last woman I met here was Christelle, early 40’s, black and very elegant. When we got back to my flat we kissed passionately as we sat on my sofa. She was married, wasn’t being ‘totally satisfied’, went on a training course for something or other and learnt what she’d been missing from a fellow student. As a ‘happily’ married woman with young kids she had to be discrete so it was perhaps unfortunate that she ended up with a blabbermouth blogger like me.<br /><br />I’m fine with the kissing but there have been times that this is all my afternoon affairs have wanted. Kissing and cuddling, ahhhh, nice but well…it doesn’t quite hit the G spot for me. So to test Christelle out I slipped off my t-shirt and showed off my sexy black bra as I tongued her mouth. Her hands were all over my bare body and then they were unclipping my bra and then her kisses were all over my tits. That’s more like it! <br /><br />It was time to reveal more about Christelle and I pulled her smart silk top over her head. She was wearing a white sports bra that looked amazing against her toned and polished skin. Off came her skirt and now I could peruse her pants. I always like this moment, it tells you so much about a woman. Her knickers were plain cotton, white and beautifully cut. She unhooked her bra as I slid off my jeans. Her tits were quite small but the nipples were huge (a great look I think) and I had a great look then a great feel and then I was sucking on them. Christelle gasped and her legs gaped in her excitement. Her pants stretched over and subtly indicated her hot spot and my fingers traced the sexy material. <br /><br /><br />Chistelle wasn’t a wild woman and our play was dignified. Well as dignified as two naked women rolling on the floor with their fingers up each other will ever be. She sweated freely in her excitement and I just loved the feel of her gleaming seal-like body. Her bum was generous – well it kindly let me do anything I wanted to it. <br /><br />And then it was over. And she lay breathless on the sofa whilst I made a cup of coffee. We then sat thereon the sofa, two naked Englishwomen, smelling of sex, sipping coffee and talking about the shop where she’d bought her pants. Only in Brighton!!!<br /><br />So life goes on. However there was one ‘dark place’ that I never imagined I’d be investigating and that’s in a man’s underpants.<br /><br />I loved fucking men for the first part of my life, until it became ‘fucking men’. Or man in my case and then Act 2 has been ‘women only’. Not because I became a man-hater (some of my best friends etc) or didn’t get offers it was just what did or didn’t turn me on I suppose.<br /><br />So when I was out one Friday morning running along the promenade I didn’t expect to run into a brief life-change. In fact, it ran past me, a man intent on doing man-like things jogged past, turned to look at me and then powered on up the road. He was in his 30’s, looked fit in his sweat shirt and shorts, nice smile, nice bum, nice legs and then nicely forgotten. Until I, now walking to relax a bit, turned a corner and he was standing, one leg on the bench, stretching his calf muscles.<br /><br />“Hi” he said, mid-stretch, “great day for it”. Not the most promising opening line to a romance but actually true in an entirely different way to what he’d intended.<br /><br />“Hi” I replied and walked on but now he was walking beside me.<br /><br />Now, modestly (ha ha) I must admit I was looking pretty good. I’d lost several pounds at the gym, gained a good all-over tan on the beach and was in a nipple popping T-shirt and bum hugging latex shorts.<br /><br />I love latex but it didn’t usually love my lumps and bumps. But now it clung to my newly fashioned curves like a lover’s hand. There was even a merest hint of cameltoe to complete the celebration of Sadie’s sexiness.<br /><br />So, I wasn’t surprised that I’d got Rod’s attention (that’s not his name but I think it’s quite funny, I also thought of calling him Roger). We walked along talking about the weather, the promenade and, hey, he was very witty and charming and when he suggested stopping for a cup of tea it would have been a hard arsed old ladylicker who would have said no.<br /><br />He was in town for a week long convention, he said. Then off we went again…blah, blah, blah, Brighton, blah, blah, blah my job, blah, blah, blah his job, blah, blah, blah, on his own tonight…then, a long lingering look at my latex sculpted bum as I went to the loo (I could see his reflection in the café window) and a careful attempt not to stare too hard and my tits and ‘toe as I came back.<br /><br />Then he invited me to dinner and I said ‘yes’ knowing a fuck was definitely on the menu. So why? you’re thinking, if it’s so easy for a man to get into Sadie’s pants why has it taken this long?<br /><br />Well like most things it’s a conjunction of elements. First, it was a spur of the moment ‘why not’ (he was fit and funny). Then, it was because I’ve come to the bit in my book where some good straight hetero humping is a plot necessity and I though I might be a little out-of-touch on cock culture. And then I have no partner so ‘why not’ again?<br /><br />So, drinks, meal, chat, laughter, back to hotel for ‘nightcap’ and up to room. <br /><br />I decided to play the straight women. So much so that when he unzipped my skirt and it fell to the floor revealing my best pants, I looked shocked when he jokingly said he was hoping I’d be in my latex shorts. “Ooooh kinky are you” I gushed (privately thinking that the last time I’d seen latex pants in a sexual situation they were unzipped across the cunt and the owner was getting a purple dildo up her arse)<br /><br />Then Rod’s rod appeared and play began. He did all the modern man things, sucking me snd tickling my clit and then to prove he’d watched some porn on his conference hotel TV he bent my legs right back and fucked me from above. ( 9 out of 10)<br /><br />We met up, went to films and fucked for the rest of his week. And then he fucked off saying he’d be back and I must see him in Birmingham (where he lived). But I expect he was going back to his wife so no “au revoir Rod”.<br /><br />But life goes on. I have my inspiration for my book and when I’ve finished this I’ll be going back to the table in the café waiting for some women to say “Is this seat taken”. The answer is No and neither is mine yet.<br /><br />Love and kisses Sadie xxxxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-26700460958694996662009-01-01T13:46:00.003+00:002009-01-01T15:05:50.460+00:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7YXz7V9J714RHtQXS-jHFxPSQUlSlDGWHYqJksQcM6IZqVbgKzsSOGRyJJ2RGstrTrYjsZepeefNk8b299eOXEUeZ2kKe8zHHbIzLwK1sfzOC6gczQ7xGQxEfqDDtVhcYHaEyw/s1600-h/53085-LA-2T.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7YXz7V9J714RHtQXS-jHFxPSQUlSlDGWHYqJksQcM6IZqVbgKzsSOGRyJJ2RGstrTrYjsZepeefNk8b299eOXEUeZ2kKe8zHHbIzLwK1sfzOC6gczQ7xGQxEfqDDtVhcYHaEyw/s400/53085-LA-2T.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286327925027209730" /></a><br /><br />Did I wish you all a Merry Christmas? Thought not - sorry. <br /><br />Anyway 'Merry' is just about the most inappropriate word to describe anything at the moment. "Ho-Ho-Ho" isn't any better, it's probably only bankers who can manage this as they open their bonus envelope or maybe a stutterer trying to say "horrid"<br /><br />No, like most of you I expect Xmas 2008 seemed a bit of a XXXXmas to me. However it's now 2009 and I'm determined to be optimistic.<br /><br />We're hoping to finish the book. It's on its third revise but who knows. People (not publishers sadly) but Brighton litocracy have been kind about the bits we've let them read and a little shocked - so that's promising.<br /><br />The weather's been brilliant. Icy cold but with an icy blue sky, perfect weather for walking the dog (a friend's). And stalking some pussy!<br /><br />Sorry to lower the tone. But then that's what you're all hoping I'll do - and I never let you down. I'm still on my own, not even a card from my ex. So what does a modern single Brighton woman in possession of a fairly decent arse do?<br /><br />Well she could do worse than drop into a cafe along Brighton's Prom, I'm not saying which to prevent any loonies showing up (not that I'm suggesting loonies read my blog) but it's better to be careful. In amongst the vanilla and gay male couples there are always a couple of women on their own reading magazines and lingering over a cup of coffee.<br /><br />Because this cafe has become infamous on the scene as a bit of a girlie's gaffe, a dyke's diner or a babe's bistro. There's a couple of pubs that have the same 'pick-up' personality but they've always been a bit butch for me.<br /><br />So I popped in, and guess what? Less than two hours later an attractive Swede was popping her tongue down my throat in a nearly hotel room. It isn't always like this, of course, sometimes you just don't fancy anyone or you just have a chat and leave alone. But it was first time lucky for me, Eva was an early Christmas present and she unwrapped beautifully.<br /><br />We chatted, then flirted, then Eva, who was visiting friends in Sussex, suggested a proper drink at her hotel but I was hoping for a pink lady instead. I experienced that amazing excitement as we left the lift and she walked ahead of me. I was imagining her naked, my hands on her sexy bum and my lips nibbling her big tits - Eva was healthily built.<br /><br />Eva liked foreplay. So she kept us in our underwear for some time kissing and fumbling. I find this cool for a time but I'm impatient to heat things up a bit. Finally Eva's knickers came off and I tasted Swede for the first time. We both knew that this wasn't the beginning of a relationship, it was a one-afternoon affair at most. So we didn't waste time on love we went straight to the chase. The object was to give each other as much pleasure as womanly possible.<br /><br />Eva liked biting and being bitten - I could barely sit down for days afterwards. It was brilliant, very hot fucking on a cold December day. Later, we showered together, put on each other's knickers, and finally had that drink in the hotel bar. Then it was goodbye Eva.<br /><br />So now once or twice a week I drop in for a coffee at the 'Come on' cafe. 2008 ended on a naughty note and lets hope I get on fine in 2009.<br /><br />I also wish you get everything you're looking for in the New Year.<br /><br />Love and kisses Sadie xxxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-13921591201673514022008-10-26T16:00:00.003+00:002008-10-26T16:17:57.720+00:00My reflections on climate change and the World recession…oh and a lesbian threesome too.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKb7PMFj8COXkgM3pby98VUmMFhYGAt7Yww0pBRryKy6rBE7lpA5yGhDLqkTdBudwUZvfJWTFWK7QG7Wz4gtkGaoMxGuLm76LteBrP9Ixjr28xC-96w8-YjhuEuAXRlEObR7rykg/s1600-h/tl-01.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKb7PMFj8COXkgM3pby98VUmMFhYGAt7Yww0pBRryKy6rBE7lpA5yGhDLqkTdBudwUZvfJWTFWK7QG7Wz4gtkGaoMxGuLm76LteBrP9Ixjr28xC-96w8-YjhuEuAXRlEObR7rykg/s400/tl-01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261497067275420578" /></a><br /><br />What a fucking awful summer! <br /><br />Fucking rain all the time…fucking people irritating me…fucking Gordon Brown and his woring bankers (or have I got the first letters the wrong way round) and to make 2008 preferably forgettable – very little fucking for Sadie!<br /><br />Hello again by the way – usual excuses for absence (see blogs 2007, 2006 and 2005) <br /><br />I’ll very quickly get through the high points of May to October – a couple of hours with Annie and Angie on the 21 July, Kristen Scott Thomas in “I loved you so long”, a sentence I really enjoyed writing for my new book and…and well, a fish and chip supper with Morgan (my co-writer) at the Blue Dolphin in Hastings. That’s all, folks!<br /><br />Mentioning Hastings brings me to the low points. Yes you’ve guessed it, Ms Hastings and I are an ex-thing, we are no more, Ms Hastings has left to spend more time with her family and I’m left desolate.<br /><br />Madonna, Heather Mills and little me – it’s been a bad time for a bitch, by which I mean, of course, Beautiful Intelligent Talented Charming Hell of a woman. I read that in some American self-help manual, bullshit naturally but it made me laugh.<br /><br />And laughing, chuckling or even smiling is something I haven’t been doing much of since my lovely cuddly sexy woman walked out on me. It was my fault I suppose (how many times have I written that?). She said she didn’t mind my fucking around, after all she was married etc, but really she did. It was a nagging thing that hid it’s ugly head until other issues emerged then it popped up and frightened us both.<br /><br />I think she felt guilty about being the prim mother of two in polite and proper Hastings circles whilst at the same time being the perverted, sensual bundle of decadent cuntiness with me. In the end she said that she felt a hypocrite while lecturing her children on right and wrong.<br /><br />I took this calmly and in a considered manner of course…<br /><br />…did I fuck!!!!!<br /><br />I yelled, cried, slammed doors and slammed her husband a bit (big mistake). That nagging ugly truth I mentioned earlier then burst out and she was shouting now. SHE DID MIND MY FUCKING AROUND!!!! I was a thoughtless, selfish tart with loose morals, how did I imagine we had a future together? Did I expect she was going to leave her husband and lovely kids to join me in my sordid world…lesbians, S&M clubs, why we’d be doing threesomes soon…<br /><br />…which brings me to the sexy bit. Oh good, at last you say.<br /><br />One rainy night I was in “Charles Street” with Dolce & Gabbana, Ms Rude and several other friends. One of the friends of the friends broke away and came over to talk with me. She was called Angie, I didn’t know her but she knew of me. “I just had to say Hello” she said, “Jim there said you were Sadie Dark and I just love your blog” Well, of course, I’m a sucker for flattery…<br /><br />..which is how I ended up sucking her cunt later that evening. Angie was late 20’s and her flatmate Annie was late 30’s. They had haunting eyes and beautiful mouths and both were very fit (lots of workouts). After Angie had greeted me, she introduced me to Annie and we sat at a table chatting about my blog and the things I write about. The conversation and the chocolate martinis flowed and I could see where this was leading, as could my friends at the bar who were smirking and making rude gestures at me.<br /><br />Actually it lead to the girl’s flat. Then we were kissing and then I was topless and then my hand was down Angie’s knickers and Annie was nibbling my nips.<br /><br />A threesome is special (as my sophisticated readers no doubt know from experience) – because it is so relentless. Tongues were tickling my tits and teasing my arse. Fingers were grabbing my hair and forcing themselves deep inside me.<br /><br />It was almost unbearable. I was coming time after time and making my friends come too. Burying myself in their bums and tits with my fingers playing away like a concert pianist having a fit. The three of us became a sweaty, smelly, panting entity until physically and sexually exhausted we broke apart.<br /><br />Then we lay there nude, giggling and touching and comparing bums, tits and cunts. I fell asleep warm and comfortable in all the female fleshiness.<br /><br />Sadly I told Ms Hastings about this at some point. And the rest is harrowing history.<br /><br />There were lots of other low points too. I didn’t write much, Morgan’s mind is much occupied with the recession’s effect on his future in advertising and so he’s not writing much either. My job is…oh this is getting too dull. <br /><br />It’s a bright Autumn day and I’m determined to fall on my feet and into someone else’s bed…be in touch soon.<br /><br />Love & Kisses SadieSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-72728917319933995512008-05-26T17:13:00.002+01:002008-05-31T16:14:31.435+01:00Sorry, I’ve been a bit tied up lately<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQfqzjy8kzr5XHpToj5QypEiooTTR1uEf9armr1ETZ_tSDSow9_cdZRE54Rv8nTkJHKNodi_wg6IGRVtrWjL5Jd70TIGUbB1wawFGl8_UKi5kaDZHoo8VPJ_vToA3IRGosXqTtg/s1600-h/sybil4_14.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQfqzjy8kzr5XHpToj5QypEiooTTR1uEf9armr1ETZ_tSDSow9_cdZRE54Rv8nTkJHKNodi_wg6IGRVtrWjL5Jd70TIGUbB1wawFGl8_UKi5kaDZHoo8VPJ_vToA3IRGosXqTtg/s400/sybil4_14.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204720953304939762" /></a><br /><br /><br />I’m virtually naked, I’m on my knees, it’s hot in the room, excited people are gathered around me and a trickle of sweat glides down my backbone and between my bum cheeks. My black shiny knickers are at half mast, and being a shy, modest woman, as you know, my first instinct is to haul them up to cover my embarrassment and my gigantic arse…but…<br /><br />…but unfortunately my hands are bound in rope, as are my arms, and the whole upper half of my body. Even my tits are tightly encircled with rope and they stick out like rugby balls whilst going the colour of cricket balls. Then I sense Jemima close to my ear and hear her voice saying: <br /><br />“Alright, are you Sadie…Great, well let’s get these off and Jacob can continue?”<br /><br />Then she grips my knickers and slips them off. I now look at bit like the women in the pic (from the excellent site Dave Annis’s Rope bound Babes) I was looking straight at Jacob’s smiling face as his hand slides down my belly then the sensation of the rope being slid between my thighs, another hand reaches between my bum cheeks grasps the rope end and pulls it tight and upwards. I gasp as it chafes my sensitive bits, then gasp again as a large knot brushes my clit…<br /><br />Yes, I’ve been a bit tired up in many ways over the past few months so, first, my apologies to my readers for yet another boring, inexcusable absence from this blog. <br /><br />Yes, you’ve heard it before, sorry, sorry, sorry…writing my book etc etc…emotion problems, yawn, yawn…life too boring to blog, yea yea…too bone idle, yea that sounds more like!<br /><br />But hey I’m back. It’s hotter in Brighton than Bangkok, but then, darlings, Brighton is always hot, whatever the weather. I’ve repainted my flat and refurnished it with the help of my gay friends Dolce and Gabbana, (they don’t wear their underpants above their jeans anymore, sooooooo 2006 but I still think the knickernames suit them). My spring-cleaning and makeover doesn’t mean I’m suddenly rich or anything. I’ve now got two jobs, which, partly explains my lack of blogging but are too mind-numbingly boring to mention here – but it does mean extra cash. So out went the shabby bed, rugs and sofa and out went Sadie to tour East Sussex’s auction room and antique shops with my expert homo designers.<br /><br />I was sad to see the bed go. Ah good, my regular readers will be thinking, beds = shagging, that’s what we want to hear about, not shopping. Some very nice people from Age Concern came to pick it and a couple of cupboards up. As it was loaded into the van I wondered what sort of action it would see at its new home.<br /><br />Lets not be ageist, the new owner may be in their 60’s but then so is Mick Jagger and he’s still getting satisfaction every which way with a succession of shag-tastic supermodels.<br /><br />But I doubt it’ll receive as much girl-on-girl pounding. I got all nostalgic after the van has left with my memory filled (and probably stained) mattress. It had originally belonged to my friend Sue. She rented the flat before me and I took on the furnishings when I moved in. She had a steady boyfriend so they must have taxed the springs many times. I assume she bought the bed when she moved in but the thought just struck me that maybe the bed was there when she moved in. <br /><br />Fuck, imagine how many other couples might have coupled in it throughout the 90’s? Or, this being Brighton, how many threesomes, foursomes, or even farmyard animals? A history dotted with DNA, a whole saga of sweat and semen, urrrrgggggg, it doesn’t bear thinking about.<br /><br />So best to remember the last occupant (along with me, of course), who was the aforementioned Jemima. We bumped into each other at Coffee, Cake & Kink, the amusingly decadent dive in Covent Garden where the photos and books lining the walls are definitely hotter than the excellent coffee. Dolce and I were attending an exhibition of fetish fotos, looking fashionably fettled in leather. A couple of friends of Dolce were there with this slim woman in a white vest and black leggings. This was Jemima, and we chatted amicably about the images and then I got the “look”. <br /><br />It’s hard to explain the ‘look’. Guys go on about ‘gaydar’ but I think it doesn’t quite work like this with women. I’m not sure you can spot a lesbian through some instinct because women are much more flirty and ‘touchy-feely’ with each other even if they’re ‘straight’ and only like bonking blokes. But the ‘look’ is different, it’s overtly sexual, direct and demanding, and it’s meaning is unmistakeable. <br /><br />You can of course, ignore it, and then things go on amicably and you eventually say goodbye. But I chose not to.<br /><br />Jemima’s flat was a 20 minute taxi away and our juices bubbled all the way. I hadn’t seen Miss Hastings (my bosom buddy) for a couple of weeks – half term holidays with the kids or something and I was feeling lonely and lustful. She was sexy in a handsome sort of way, her nipples teased me through her vest and her strong, businesslike manner fascinated me. I felt she was going to thoroughly dominate me and I was rather looking forward to the idea,<br /><br />“Don told me you write the Sadie Dark blog” Jemima had said earlier, then she’d flashed one of her rare smiles. “ You like lots of kinky stuff don’t you – good!” <br /><br />When we got inside her flat I expected the customary glass of wine then a kiss or two. But no, she led me into the bedroom and then said, “Do what I say”. <br /><br />But she didn’t say anything, she just stripped me. Off came my shirt and bra, then down went my leather skirt, my black tights and even my knickers. There’s usually a little play in our knickers, because that’s what sexy underwear is all about, a little fondling and pinching as a foretaste of the fuck to come.<br /><br />But not with Jemima. It was a bit impersonal in fact, just like removing the clothes off a shop window dummy. And then she pushed this dummy onto the bed, slipped off her vest and sank her fingers into my cunt. It must be what a prostitute gets from a ‘quickie’ client.<br /><br />Fortunately the juices that had started flowing in the taxi were still bubbling so her entrance into my entrance wasn’t so rough. She knew what she was doing though and soon I was gasping and grunting. <br /><br />Jemina had small tits and large tattoos. A whole pattern on thorny roses covered her back. There was a skull and crossbones on her belly and when she finally took her leggings off I saw more roses on her thighs and a single bloom on her tight boyish bum.<br /><br />She vigorously fucked me and it was shockingly good. She then smiled at me again and produced some handcuffs. I let her cuff my hands to her metal bed back and I was now hers to play with.<br /><br />Which she did relentlessly. I sucked her toes and stuck my tongue where the sun don’t shine as she crouched over me whilst she bit my tits, explored my arse, and did unmentionable things to me – oh sorry I’ve just mentioned them.<br /><br />This was a new experience for me and, whilst a bit messy, was terrific fun. <br /><br />Later, she mentioned Jacob her sometime boyfriend and ‘Master’. She showed me pics of her being bound and suspended and suggested I’d enjoy it.<br /><br />We met up again in Brighton (in my late bed) and the play was just as rude and riotous. There was tying up and spanking and strap on action and a bit of pissing about – which I usually don’t mind, but this involved real piss!!<br /><br />And a week later, there I was at Jacob’s little party, bound to please. It was pleasing Jacob anyway as he demonstrated his skill with the ropes. Fortunately I wasn’t going to be suspended, you have to be a bit more experienced (and fit) to survive hanging three feet off the floor.<br /><br />Basically he hogtied me. I was on my knees, tits now turning purple with my big arse in the air. You can see why they named it after a pig. The other guests, men and women gathered around and peered closely at me. They made out they were studying the knots but I guessed it was my naughty bits.<br /><br />So there you have it. What Sadie’s been getting up to over the past few months. Still, it’s all research for my book. Oh sorry I promised I wouldn’t mention my boring book.<br /><br />Knots and Knots of love<br /><br />Sadie xxxxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-87019884643345955092007-12-31T16:31:00.000+00:002008-01-01T18:21:36.322+00:00Lesbian lunches and a spanking New Year<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQN5sMeB16rdmZwIFXSnFCajkY9DK8BhXuSHbqFKOb-_C8zi3oMEVQk-WYOR6rgDSIY5XukRhT8WVs0OLFAXDh2IbHFE0jakbFOwHpDJHnccOzGGnN4nkeWWxoHDrHRfd75ASKMg/s1600-h/CCAlliXmasZip18.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQN5sMeB16rdmZwIFXSnFCajkY9DK8BhXuSHbqFKOb-_C8zi3oMEVQk-WYOR6rgDSIY5XukRhT8WVs0OLFAXDh2IbHFE0jakbFOwHpDJHnccOzGGnN4nkeWWxoHDrHRfd75ASKMg/s400/CCAlliXmasZip18.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150545077998110594" /></a><br /><br />I’ve just been listening to Woman’s Hour, a very tweed skirt, 4x4 and sensible knickers radio programme for ‘ladies’ that runs every day on Radio 4. Now, I know this isn’t a very promising start to a sexy blog but hey, don’t just go straight to ‘Girl with a one track mind’ stay with me, at least while I make my point. And it was because they were doing a feature on Mistresses, mainly Royal ones from Nell Gwyn to dear old Camilla. Actually I find her a bit of a turn-on, those tight jodhpurs, that cocksucking mouth, that haughty manner, wow I bet after a few whiskies she’s anyone’s, man, woman or beast (with a mane of course). But sorry I digress, although a horsewhipping and a romp in the hay with the dirty Duchess would be any sensual woman’s dream.<br /><br />But, ahem, back to my point. They were all men’s mistresses, and I’m a woman’s mistress, Ms Hastings (my lover) is fairly happily married and I’m the bitter bit on the side. Because Christmas is a notably sad and lonely time for the world’s mistresses, now, all you boring married people will say “well dear, you made your bed so lay alone in it and wank yourself silly you treacherous cow”. But Woman’s Hour asked for sympathy for us mistresses, we provide a sexual service, we often keep marriages together and one of us will be the next Queen and if they say that you should listen.<br /><br />Not that I care this Christmas. A cool lady, I’ll call Fiona, got in touch with me in the Summer after I moaned about being not very high but considerablely dry (between the thighs) when Ms Hastings went back to Mr Hastings. She’s in the same position as me, under or on top of a married woman for a couple of nights a month, so we kept in touch.<br /><br />Apropos of lonely Christmas’s she suggested a Mistresses Lunch on the 25th. So Fiona, me, a woman I’ll call Charlie and another woman, I’ll call Camilla (well a girl can dream) met up at a restaurant called ‘Vanilla’ in Hove (I think this might have been Fiona’s joke).<br /><br />Three of us were girly but Charlie was a bit of a boi (more masculine in styling for those not in the know). In amongst all the couples and families celebrating not having to cook the fucking turkey we probably stood out a little. We’d all scrubbed up for the occasion but we clearly looked like 4 women who weren’t long-time friends and it was all a little formal. But then Fiona suggested a bottle of Bolly and after several glasses whilst looking at the menu, I suddenly remembered something I’d read in my research for my book.<br /><br />“If we are what we eat then all lesbians must be cunts” I volunteered, so we toasted this and ordered another bottle. Our mood grew more and more bubbly, the food was ok but our reminiscences were very tasty and some of them extremely spicy. My, my, what the middle class women of East Sussex get up to on those hot and sweaty afternoons while hubby is holed up in London!!!<br /><br />And why not? I so surprised that most women don’t try a little lady love on the side. It is different, it is sensual (yes we do know exactly which bits to work on) and it’s remarkably safe. No unwanted bumps, no violence (unless that turns you on) and we are completely discreet. Although, after listening to my three new mates I wonder if the men wouldn’t be actually aroused if they found out what their other half’s girl-on-girl action.<br /><br />By now, our laughter was getting a bit loud and we were getting ‘looks’ from the other dull diners. Fuck’em, we were having a brilliant Christmas. When all the boring people had left to return to their yuletide rows and Dr Who on TV we ordered another drop of Bolly and sang carols with the waiters. They were all in their twenties and I noticed them assessing us lasciviously, four pissed females up for fun. I imagined them thinking that we might fancy a bit of extra pudding – sorry boys, you picked the wrong girls.<br /><br />If this had been my book we’d have all ended up in a hotel room as a naked, frolicking foursome finding amusing things to do to each other with our bolly bottles. But this was life so we kissed, swore we’d do it again and parted to our lonely nights. Although Charlie squeezed my bum so it wasn’t all sad.<br /><br />I wasn’t actually alone on Christmas night. I spent it with Dolce & Gabbanna, who are my gay chums. We sat with a couple of their friends watching a dvd of ‘West Side Story’. And as usual when I’m a bit miserable, I ended up snuggled between them in bed.<br /><br /><br />So that was my Christmas, probably not much like yours but typical for me. It’s weird that because of my blog people think I lead a permanently promiscuous existence. But, hey as I always say I only write about the ‘dark parts’ and I probably spend more time than you seeking them out.<br /><br />The majority of my days are spent earning a living, cleaning the flat, shopping, watching the news and going to the loo. And you don’t want to read about that do you?<br /><br />You don’t want to hear about me watching TV, you want to read about me watching a TV whip a naked man in a Kent S&M club. There she was, with the best body there, in a blond wig, black bra, thong and long leather boots taking great pleasure in viciously thrashing the man’s arse then tenderly massaging his flaming cheeks and cupping his balls. (A hint of this world can be found in the pic I chose for the top of this blog. It's a rather seasonal shot of one of Santa's little helpers being a little tied up. It's borrowed from costumecuties.com, a great bondage site featuring woman in various fetish uniforms)<br /><br />The S&M evening was last November, and I’m looking forward to more of it in 2008. And spanking, I love doing it and found that I rather liked it being done to me. And I’m not alone, just put ‘spanking’ into Google. There millions of us, watching the movies and appearing in them. There are clubs like Northern Spankers that do movies and also ‘party nights’ when you can spank the bums of the girls who appear in the movies. Mmmmmm, tight knickers caught up the crack then pulled down to reveal plump girly gluts. Then the slapping and squealing – I can’t get enough of it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZuL60mRz5NjN9vZBq4p_b2_xNKZnJw7XzyX-ZNFqBoDG2ae8xGc2vttE1WhR-4sqEoUgKYpETrew-cWYsTDmCBbKCxCPvluLI6iG82WEqc7JVz-9wB4lnI0OQAuse5iqUoJoRw/s1600-h/tn_557245_1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZuL60mRz5NjN9vZBq4p_b2_xNKZnJw7XzyX-ZNFqBoDG2ae8xGc2vttE1WhR-4sqEoUgKYpETrew-cWYsTDmCBbKCxCPvluLI6iG82WEqc7JVz-9wB4lnI0OQAuse5iqUoJoRw/s400/tn_557245_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150544072975763314" /></a><br /><br />Finally my best wishes go out to Ms Hastings, Pretty Polly (my pantyhose pal) Madame Madge (my delicious French delicacy) and Ms Strict (who toned up my bum muscles) - and of course all of my lovely sexy readers <br /><br />Here’s to a happy, slappy New Year<br /><br />Love & lashes Sadie xxxxxxxxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-76894347590217666672007-11-25T14:23:00.000+00:002007-11-25T14:50:56.894+00:00Sore feelings in my heart and bum<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17GxTEf3uwfv20onrF841H5Z-051coV5jOhwZd7cR7QJKuvVAyDPjMYLHF7ANLuj_13IV3Njg5XfqTV-RPTdNzpX0BAv4YD9B2F8TRK0usxEAH6nKd4dqnzb2dDEDi3MwcGBUnw/s1600-h/tn_1_jpg.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17GxTEf3uwfv20onrF841H5Z-051coV5jOhwZd7cR7QJKuvVAyDPjMYLHF7ANLuj_13IV3Njg5XfqTV-RPTdNzpX0BAv4YD9B2F8TRK0usxEAH6nKd4dqnzb2dDEDi3MwcGBUnw/s320/tn_1_jpg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136790007533041762" /></a><br />It’s Saturday afternoon and Ms Hastings has just left. She’s going back to her husband and kids and, at last, I’m going back to my blog. I can still feel her warmth in my bed and smell her scents. The sheets are still ruffled, thanks to our furious activity and there are sexy indentations caused by her beautiful body.<br /><br />Hey, it’s just wonderful to be back in Brighton on a grey November day. My Mac is resting on the pillow into which Ms Hastings pushed her squirming and gasping face as I relentlessly fucked her arse with a saucy pink strap-on. As I bucked my superbly toned, tight and tremendously firm buttocks (I wish) and the cock stretched her matching pink hole, I leant forward and cupped her soft fleshy tits. I think I mentioned before that my lover is a little on the big size but I just love every generous inch of her.<br /><br />Thinking of her bust sadly reminds me of our bust-up which is why I haven’t been up to being amusing on my blog. I’ve eventually fallen out with every one of my lovers including my husband. We never part amicably and stay ‘friends’ like all the smug people you read about in the papers. No, I always get written out of the story and they go off to get creative with someone else.<br /><br />So, although she’d visited me occasionally during my long stay with friends in France, we haven’t seen much of each other (in the getting naked sense) for most of the Summer. Now, because she has her family I always imagined I had my freedom when we weren’t together. We’ve discussed this, and she said she was ok with it – and with me writing about our fucking and my fetishes.<br /><br />But I was proved wrong when she took acceptation to my interludes with Madame Madge, the jodhpur wearing, Madonna lookie-likie who gave me intensive riding lessons of the non-equestrian type. <br />Ms Hastings decided that Ms France stepped over the line that separated overnight fling with on-going fuck.<br /><br />So she said some things, and I said some things that I regretted. Then I said some things that I really regretted and then I said some things that would have appalled Saddam and Mugabe. So she walked out of my life. And I walked into the flat of my Brighton friends Dolce & Gabbana and cried and cried. This is a familiar scenario for them so they poured Jack Daniels down my throat and nodded sagely whilst I talked bollocks. And talking of bollocks they also took me into their bed so that, naked, I lay between their naked bodies in a comforting, non-sexual but naughty bit touching, very 21st Century way.<br /><br />I couldn’t believe I’d screwed it up again. I found I couldn’t concentrate on my writing of erotic fiction when the real facts of my life were so appalling. Morgan, my co-writer, tried to help but I behaved in an ignorant, destructive manner that he coped with easily because he’s used to working with advertising clients.<br /><br />Now, I must admit I did enjoy a few cunt enthralling canters with Madame Madge. She made my Summer in France very sensual but she had a boyfriend and I had Ms Hastings so the relationship was very prescribed. She still emails me and I respond but that’s as intimate as it gets these days. But my too explicit blog had fogged Ms Hastings judgement and I was alone again.<br /><br />I sat in the flat as the Autumn rains hit Brighton. The general greyness highlighted the colours of France that I was missing so much. The rich yellows of the sunflowers, the deep purples of the lavender and the warm tan of Madame Madge’s derriere and thighs as I pulled her jodhpurs down. How I missed it.<br /><br />I also missed the slap that had been part of my happy days with Ms Hastings. I think I’ve mentioned that she liked to be spanked. Now I wasn’t into this madly but was content to play along because it generally led to the kind of sex that whipped my senses. The usual scenario had her saying something mildly insulting (in a schoolgirl way) like “Sadie, your bum is eating your jeans”, I’d get cross and put her over my knee. Her skirt was pulled up, her Prada sheer panties were exposed and I’d attack her ample arse. She got really turned on by this and although we’d agreed never to mention her husband I had to know whether spanking has been a favourite fetish during her marriage. So I asked her and the fact that her face went the colour of her bum cheeks suggested the answer was “yes”.<br /><br />It was probably dwelling on this that got me in correspondence with a woman on Informedconsent.co.uk. Now fetish fans will be familiar with this site. It’s a guide to fetish and BDSM clubs and also runs personal ads for pervs to meet other pervs. I was prowling around it because writing erotic fiction when you are celibate is much like writing recipes when you are hungry – and I was absolutely famished.<br /><br />Perusing the F4F section led me to many subs into caning with frankly unappealing pics of cuts and bruises, And then I happened across this lady’s site. She wasn’t a professional domme; she did it for fun. And her fun was OTK (over the knee) spanking with an emphasis on big knickers.<br /><br />Well, it was late on a cold damp evening and I wanted to be hot and damp so I emailed her. We chatted and it was very stimulating, I sent her a pic to prove I wasn’t a bloke and we agreed to meet. So a week later and a long train ride found me on her doorstep in a skirt wearing pants my mother would have approved of.<br /><br />However Mummy wouldn’t have liked what happened next. After tea the getting-to-know-you gossip quickly turned to gussets and it was time for play. Ms Strict was in her early 40’s, quite attractive in a handsome sort of way, had a good figure which she emphasised in a very tight skirt and black stockings, and was very, very into discipline, spanking women and underwear. She also quite liked caning but this was a no-go area for me. After all, as fashion writers say, stripes can make your bum look big.<br /><br />Ms Strict became very strict. “After this moment, whatever I ask you to do, you must instantly comply” she said, and then she asked me to bend over and touch my toes. <br /><br />This I did with a bit of effort and I sensed her behind me. I tried not to giggle in a schoolgirlish way (but, of course this was probably just what Ms Strict wanted) Then I felt my skirt being lifted and my bum being revealed. She just waited, surveying my big white knickers. It was an odd sensation knowing she was inspecting my crack and whatever else my tight cotton pants were revealing but it was a rather sexy one. The intimate attention of strangers is something I found rather attractive when I’ve been investigating fetish clubs for my book and this was no exception. <br /><br />Then I felt her hand on me and I tensed but she just caressed my cotton-clad rear following the curve of each cheek. So I relaxed because this was rather nice – and then she struck. <br /><br />Thwackkkkkkk! I gasped but the sting soon wore off leaving a warm glow. She gave me six more and my bum and my desires caught fire. <br /><br />She then asked me to take off my skirt and led me to the sofa where she put me over her knee. She pulled my knickers up into a wedgie and then spanked each bare cheek. In between the painful slaps she would lovingly massage my bum, she was a lesbian and made it clear that this was pleasure not business. Then after I’d squirmed and moaned a bit she pulled my knickers down and really punished me. It was as bit like the pic above, courtesy of spankedcheeks.com, a tingling site you should all visit.<br /><br />As my flesh got hotter so did I. I now understood why spanking was so special to my lovely Ms Hastings. It’s thrilling and humiliating and sexual – what’s not to like?<br /><br />When the slapping stopped I wondered what would happen next. There I was bare-bummed with exposed bits, so maybe a sly finger or two would rummage about or something. Actually, horny old bitch that I am, I was rather hoping the spanking might lead to a little wanking. <br /><br />But there was no overt sex, I just pulled my knickers up and sat on the sofa. We talked pants and Ms Strict seeing I was a fan, slipped off her skirt and showed me hers. She was in a suspender belt and stockings and her big panties were covered in embroidery at the front but see-through at the back. I’m now getting used to these clothes fetishistas, what with Pretty Polly my occasional pantyhose sex partner and now Ms Strict. Maybe there are big-boned bra supporter and even pop sock perverts out there. Please get in touch is you are.<br /><br />Then over a glass of wine Ms Strict sat close to me and was fairly explicit about what she found exciting about my undercarriage as revealed by the thin cotton – cunny creases, cameltoe and crack lines etc. It was weird but rather wicked. I’m convinced that we miss so much if we don’t travel to the outer reaches of sex.<br /><br />And, on the subject of reaching out, I’m delighted to report that two days ago Ms Hastings contacted me. We talked for hours, I was sorry, she was sorry, I was sorry I’d made her sorry, it was all girly stuff until she admitted she missed the fucking. That’s my girl, I thought and we made up for weeks of lost opportunities last night and this morning.<br /><br />So now life hopefully will go blissfully on, my book will be finished, my boring part-time job (which you don’t want to hear about) will just about support me and I can still lose myself in Ms Hasting’s soft sexy body.<br /><br />Happy-slappy times!<br /><br />Love & Kisses Sadie xxxxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-16406313728320540882007-09-12T01:46:00.000+01:002007-09-30T14:56:45.490+01:00Rude riding breeches and jodhpur japes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydilVsLs_QjJ00kIb8oSsrk97mrgFvhD1j-Ur3thzOesgbeZGYqO2G2iIH0aCISCGlp6Rk2jqz02TQXf_qpbG_yg8dSUHq7pn6bV_3DtiFsANHdkQ9vGCAClGC2s6ycZR-Ka-mQ/s1600-h/1551.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydilVsLs_QjJ00kIb8oSsrk97mrgFvhD1j-Ur3thzOesgbeZGYqO2G2iIH0aCISCGlp6Rk2jqz02TQXf_qpbG_yg8dSUHq7pn6bV_3DtiFsANHdkQ9vGCAClGC2s6ycZR-Ka-mQ/s320/1551.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109113712499502178" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Bonjour, here I am, still in France and living on le pain et l’eau as my money is running out. I can’t even afford new clothes so that’s why I sitting here bare-assed naked in the lovely September sun whilst I type this on my mac. I’m alone, of course, my friends in France are absolutely lovely but a little straight so whilst they’re out for the day I get them out for the day, so to speak.<br /><br />Their garden is beautiful, heavily scented and all greens, greys and orange autumnal blooms. And I’m lying on a blanket making revisions to my book and desperately trying to keep my blog up-to-date. The scene could an impressionist painting by Monet or Manet – ‘Le jardin et la femme avec la grande derriere’.<br /><br />So what’s happened since my last post? Well, I (and Morgan, my co-writer back in England and hopefully fully clothed as he edits my stuff) have revised and refined a few chapters. As one of the book’s themes is sex I think it is important for authenticity that without my lover Ms Hastings I still keep my hand in.<br /><br />And currently I’ve been keeping my hand in Madame Madge, my jodhpur-clad, Madonna–ish lookey-likey, chum. After our first afternoon of unbridled (gettit!) fun and games she went very quiet. Ah, that sensational sex with Sadie side effect, I thought…complete revulsion. But no, I got a phone call saying she’d been in Paris with her boyfriend and now she was back and did I fancy a ride.<br /><br />She meant on a horse, you dirty-minded people. So I turned up at the stable looking forward to some healthy excise astride a filly. I mentioned in my last post about the effect of my first sight of her bum in her skin-tight jodhpurs. Well, breeches buffs that’s exactly what her lower half was thinly encased in when I showed up at the stables.<br /><br />We rode off, and because she was an owner I was allowed out on a subdued beast with her and without the usual riding school line up. Well, my pervy friends, I trotted along behind her watching her behind bouncing in the saddle. She knew about my ‘jodhpur thing’ and occasionally she’d look around and give me a sexy smile – teasing tart that she was.<br /><br />It was a hot day and after a sweaty gallop she stopped at the top of a hill and tied her horse to a branch. This was obviously a familiar place for her and was, actually, a perfect place to get familiar.<br /><br />She turned and smirked at me. I secured my horse and then secured my hands around her waist. We kissed, my hands moved inevitably to her arse and I gave those jodhpurs a little jigging.<br /><br />Her shirt came off easily and her big nipples rose in the autumn air. She was a little nervous as this was a popular bridle path but the tension was a stimulant and she didn’t protest as her jodhpurs were jerked down.<br /><br />I finger fucked her there in the September sun with her breeches round her knees and her boots splayed and her mouth gasping.<br /><br />This is the joy of lesbian sex. I’ve discovered it fairly recently but Madame Madge has known the secret though one marriage and, now, an engagement with her man in Paris. It’s sexy, it’s very, very satisfying but above all it’s safe.<br /><br />I’m her latest lady lover. However, I know my place, which is under her, on top of her or on her face but, most importantly, completely out of the way. It’s an unspoken understanding and we both enjoy it totally.<br /><br />After our fun the jodhpurs slipped up over that delicious bum and we rode back. Since then, I’ve been invited around to her house for tea and sensuality and naked in her bed, I’ve enjoyed every aspect of the ‘entente cordial’.<br /><br />Although I think the J-thing is a lot of fun I’m not really into sexy clothing (apart from knickers). However on putting 'jodhpurs' into ‘Google’ I was surprised by the abundance of breeches sites. Ridingboots.net is a British site that is hilarious. Sturdy county girls at shows in bulging breeches are secretly photographed and are unaware that their arses are being admired on a pervy sites. However the best site is one who’s name I’ve forgotten and I can’t find again (old age and masturbation effecting my memory I expect). However on this site typical porny females in breeches and boots pretend to be English ladies and have extraordinary names like Lady Camilla Windermere or the Honourable Arabella Wellington. These aristocratic fillies then whip men or ride them around their ‘grounds’. Only in England – trust us to mix class with arse.<br /><br />Speaking of which mine is getting burnt. So au revoir from my blog aand back to the book.<br /><br />Love & Kisses SadieSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-19010920054779489212007-08-20T22:50:00.000+01:002007-08-21T10:10:27.967+01:00Oh dear, I’m about to use The F-word several times.Just recently my life has been full of F-words. Ok, you’re saying, so has mine, fucking work, fucking weather, fucking government, fucking world, fuck, fuck, f-u-c-k, FUCK!<br /><br />But although my life includes that particular word – in its sense as a verb I’m delighted to say, it also includes several other words beginning with F.<br /><br />F-irst of all, my I thank the delectable Vamp for including my blog in the world famous but extremely exclusive Jane’s Guide. Vamp, who I’ve never met but I’m sure is a sensual beauty who combines utter sophistication and a rare sense of humour with formidable but exquisite breasts, a pert, sculpted arse, a belly to die for and thighs that could crush a man or woman’s innocent objections. Well, the voluptuous Vamp was extremely nice about my stuff, and this is what she wrote:<br /><br />Original & Quality<br />Sadie Dark Places<br />Sadie is a woman who writes erotic fiction in the UK. She has had a blog since about 2004, so there is a history here. I think I would sum up what you'll find here as smart, rude, and raw. I think that writers always like to talk about the writing process, and Sadie is no exception. If you can identify with the angst of trying to sort out how to write your novel, you'll enjoy Sadie's comments about the process. If that isn't your thing, you'll still be interested in her naughty stories. – Vamp<br /><br />F-ank you V (so many lovely things begin with V) if only I could find your email on your fucking site I could actually thank you personally.<br /><br />Ok, next F-word…France.<br /><br />For that is where I am. Summering, (if that is the right as its pissing down as I write) in this glorious country. After working through winter and enjoying the largesse of my delicious Ms Hastings I’d saved enough for a few months off in France. So here I am, in my rather unstylish and unseasonable T-shirt and knickers sitting on my friend’s verandah writing my book and this blog…and its fucking freezing.<br /><br />Next F-word…Fetish.<br /><br />Yea, that’s the one I’m really getting to grips with. As I write I need more information, so I get onto Google and the more I learn the more I want to experience – so I do. I must admit that on my own and without my horny Ms Hastings I’m getting soooooooooooo randy. She's visited me for a couple of wicked weekends, but mostly it's just me and my imagination. I had a weekend in Paris with a couple of friends who, sweetly tried to alleviate my randiness in the sweaty environment of a sauna on girls only night. We sat around in towels, swigging chardonnay, then the towels fell off and I found myself trapped with two turned-on teenagers, all tanned and wet and shiny like slippery seals. One in front, one behind and she was totally focussed on my behind – wow, fuck, mmmm, who could imagine an intimate examination being soooooo intensely in-tim-ate? Weeeeee-owwwww-oohhhhhhh! Fantastically fabulously fun – but not strictly fetish, so ok, here’s the tight riding breeches bit.<br /><br />Yea, jodhpurs,(oooh, just wait for the Google references, it could just beat Penny Smith’s arse). I’m talking tight fitting, bum caressing, crotch dividing, thigh defining, stretch fitting breeches.<br /><br />And this is the best bit, their owner looked a bit like Madonna. Just a bit but enough for me who’d lusted over the Lady’s jodhpur-clad limbs in her amazing Wembley show,<br /><br />And here was her looky-likey in a local French riding school. I had gone to take my mind off the hassle of hack-writing with a bit of hacking. The school horses were ok, a bit lazy but fine for people like me who hadn’t ridden since schooldays. I’d been out on a hack and was nursing my strained thighs and sore bum cheeks in a soft chair whilst enjoying a Coke Lite when Madame Madge swayed into view.<br /><br />Her derriere was exquisite. A bit boy-like but all the better for it. Nice firm cheeks and a delicious crack caught in the fit of her second-skin like breeches. She passed me once, then back again, then the bum paused as she talked to some other horsey type then it was off again. Her crack tightened then relaxed in a beautiful pattern of pervy joy. God, I fancied that fucking French arse…and its owner.<br /><br />She was obviously an owner as she carried water and food backwards and forwards to the private livery stables. At one point she caught me staring, I waited, I’m not a great believer in gaydar but she had a sexy, mannish manner and I was sure she might fancy a little female fun – there’s another F-word for you.<br /><br />But nothing happened. If I was making this story up, I’d have approached her, seduced her, led her into a vacant stable, kissed her whilst exploring her blessed bum and then bent her over a convenient hay bale and thrashed her wriggling bottom with a springy schooling whip.<br /><br />But this was real life and sadly, in this reality, people smile at each other and then part forever. But now Madame Madge was back and she was taking a Coke Lite from the school’s fridge. I smiled at her…and waited…and waited…and then she smiled back.<br /><br />‘Hot isn’t it” I said, stupidly in English, because I was in France.<br /><br />She gave me a cool "Madonna' like smile. “Yez..it izzz” she replied and I felt a tingle between my thighs that wasn’t due to bouncing about in a solid saddle.<br /><br />She came over and stood by me. Her English was perfect and so attractively delivered. We talked about horses and my holidays and her house (but not any husband) and, all the time, I couldn’t ignore her crotch that was at my eye level, a hint of cameltoe that was etched in the tight fabric and constantly hinted at her lush femininity.<br /><br />She then sat down and stared into my eyes. She’d have had to have been blind not have noticed me drooling after her. She checked out my tits, assessed my ass as I went to the loo and put her hand on my thighs to emphasise a point about the cost of horse management in France.<br /><br />She had a boyish figure as I’ve mentioned, small tits, an enviably slim waist, neat cunt ( the breeches fitted that well) and that arse. Oh God, God pleaaaaaassssse make her fancy me.<br /><br />Next F-word/s…Francophile Fucking.<br /><br />Jodhpur fetish aficionados will be disappointed. I didn’t get my hands on that beautiful lycra enhanced butt then and there. I watched it sway off into the dusk…but I had been invited to her house next day to see her ‘orses and also, I hoped, a bit of ‘orseplay.<br /><br />I drove over in my friend’s little French car. Would she strip me and saddle me with a bit between my teeth and her whip tantalising my tushy? Would I have to kiss her shiny leather boots as she stood nude and aroused above me? Would I be a pony girl, naked and harnessed to her cart with a long horse’s tail shoved up my arsehole? God, what a pervy little princess I’ve become since I started my book!<br /><br />But, I was in a Zara dress and my best underwear (this was France after all) and when she opened the door she was in a simple white shirt and and beautifully cut cargo pants. So sorry breeches buffs, but welcome knickers and female fucking fans.<br /><br />It was raining so viewing the horses was out but she offered me tea or wine. Frankly, all I wanted was her whining with lust but I asked for Earl Grey (as French tea is shit).<br /><br />We sat on the sofa and talked, then we held hands, and then we kissed…and kissed and then her hand was slipping up my skirt.<br /><br />She lifted my skirt away to reveal my pants. Was this the first hurdle? What if they'd been pastel Primark or mingy M&S? Would she have kicked my ass out of the door? However, cleverly I was in my best cream Coco de Mer’s and these seemed to pass her strict French standards. Her hand slipped around my mound and squeezed and now it was time for the next F-word…fireworks.<br /><br />I slipped her shirt off, the tits were small but the nipples were thrusting out, unashamedly signalling that Madame Madge was hot for it. Down came the pants to reveal an exquisite pair of grey silk knickers, I just stared in admiration – they were that sexy!<br /><br />My dress was off and her hand was down my Coco's. She handled me as firmly as she would have treated her horse and I instantly responded. Her eyes were fixed on mine loving my involuntary gasps and moans. Her fingers expertly felt out my most sensitive spots and I began to lose control. France 1, England 0.<br /><br />In an instant I grabbed those silky grey bum cheeks. She felt brilliant, I just loved the sensuous cling of her knickers. My fingers buried themselves into her crack. All that lusting yesterday and now I could do anything with her. We kissed and kissed and she worked my cunt lips. I pulled her pants down, sucked my finger and slyly slipped it up her cul.<br /><br />She gasped. Perfidious Albion had caught her unawares and stormed her from behind. She relaxed and my finger slipped in. She gasped again and I smirked at her. She looked furiously at me then smiled and I felt her little hole tighten sensuously around my delving digit. France 1, England 1<br /><br />Then, we were both naked and aroused and we had all afternoon. I told her about my jodphur fantasies and she laughed and promised me that next time she’d dress to please me. And we fucked and sucked and fucked and…<br /><br />And that was several weeks ago and I haven’t had the jodphur japes yet, she’s always busy and I’m writing my books and well, women have one night (afternoon) stands too.<br /><br />I still get slippery thinking about Madame Madge and I’m in France for a few more weeks so maybe I’ll get to whip that tight little derriere.<br /><br />And that’s my last F-word…fantasies.<br /><br />Enjoy yours and I’ll be back soon. Well not quite my last…<br /><br />Farewell. Love and kisses Sadie xxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-21700324708291501152007-06-21T23:39:00.000+01:002007-06-23T00:35:03.366+01:00A woman’s bits and pieces.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2x0DFOAzIQJBD8t6sIUxc0H33I0KB3huC2DcbXIY-OjQUXkAr1RbgbdM-y7KdHmQeWY5GQ8zpqw89nPYaQbw4ftszy858YfkJnzQKQ0tDX1_BXCZFIUXRrdInW6DZbfEPs0bZA/s1600-h/IMG_4995.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2x0DFOAzIQJBD8t6sIUxc0H33I0KB3huC2DcbXIY-OjQUXkAr1RbgbdM-y7KdHmQeWY5GQ8zpqw89nPYaQbw4ftszy858YfkJnzQKQ0tDX1_BXCZFIUXRrdInW6DZbfEPs0bZA/s320/IMG_4995.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078651815532383698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXHaWzdEjNcDx1Vf9vSLuYX8vxu_IwiEvyIpFjhOjB0j66ZYqNwOc24mgZTtiV4vkKSOBa96n2Jka2R6eYVkuJPpX3CmaNrCCLfFCKDgFncXAqwsOOkxVPwTf_ZAEcTepJAP99Q/s1600-h/IMG_5072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXHaWzdEjNcDx1Vf9vSLuYX8vxu_IwiEvyIpFjhOjB0j66ZYqNwOc24mgZTtiV4vkKSOBa96n2Jka2R6eYVkuJPpX3CmaNrCCLfFCKDgFncXAqwsOOkxVPwTf_ZAEcTepJAP99Q/s320/IMG_5072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078651815532383714" border="0" /></a><br />Hi, remember me, woman from Brighton, used to write a blog called Sadie Dark Places, bit of a potty mouth? No, you’ve forgotten because it’s months since I filed anything. Sorry, sorry, sorry.<br /><br />So what can I tell you? Well, I’m ok, Brighton in the sun and rain is ok, Ms Hastings is ok, Pretty Polly the pantyhose perv is ok, Morgan, (the co-writer of my book) is ok. All my Brighton mates, Ms Rude, Dolce & Gabbana etc etc are ok. But my writing is not fucking ok! It’s just that that stimulating my creative juices is getting harder however vigorously I finger my Mac. All the effort to finish my book is diverting me from my blog.<br /><br />So what can I tell you? Well how about some Lesbian Mud Wrestling? Yea, fuck the scene in my lovely city, fuck the crisis of New Labour, here’s some new labia smeared in sticky substances. And it all took place at The Candy Bar in Brighton.<br /><br />Ms Hastings and I naturally couldn’t keep away after reading about it on that brilliant andv essential site Realbrighton.com (from whom I’ve borrowed the pics, hope they don’t mind). The Candy Bar isn’t our usual haunt as we both feel a bit old when we’re amongst the baby babes who pack the place and it’s a tad butch with short hair and boy’s boxer shorts peering over baggy jeans.<br /><br />However, trying not to look too much like the Fat Slags from Viz, we entered the club and were immediately hit by feminine pheromes. A bunch of leering lezs were cheering on a couple of girls in shorts and knickers who were actually wrestling in mud. It was everyman’s dream but that night only us ladies were realising it.<br /><br />The participants in their pants were rather jolly, like those healthy girls at school who always volunteered for things. It was so different from my last few bouts of this popular sport. That was in Amsterdam on a business trip in my days as a married marketer. We were taking time off from an immensely dull conference and so took some clients to a club. Here the wrestlers were Pamela Stephenson look-alikes and the audience were predominately pissed men. At the time I thought I was firmly hetero, but I can remember being quite diverted by the dirty girls. Those wet thongs disappearing up toned bums were strangely attractive and I think I rather enjoyed it more than I’d expected.<br /><br />It was very different at The Candy Bar and, I must admit, just a bit embarrassing – too much like girls desperately wanting to be macho. It’s not a good look.<br /><br />So what else? Well, with the title of this piece in mind here’s something in the ‘only in America’ category that I spotted on the web:<br /><br />I quote…<br /><br />…The Big Coloring Book of Vaginas<br />30 pages of illustrated vaginas with games such as word search, connected the dots, and an "all about my vagina" section<br /><br />Psst... can i tell you a secret?<br />(Every woman has one!)<br /><br />Vaginas are a fingerprint. Captured in this book along with fun puzzles and games is the uniqueness of the vagina beautifully illustrated. From the compact smooth vagina to a coiffed vagina with full lips. Some are pierced, some are tattooed, some are soft spoken and some are in your face! Illustrate these beautiful vaginas with your imagination and show your love for what makes your world go round!<br /><br />The Big Book of Vaginas<br />ISBN:<br />978-1-4243-4035-4<br />Price: $10.95<br /><br />So, goodbye from now from my soft spoken vagina. I’ll try to be back a bit sooner.<br /><br />Love & Kisses SadieSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-18595434396552482242007-05-10T23:24:00.000+01:002007-05-10T23:27:12.407+01:00Blog off but strap on<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha16gDOlD2mhCMz-KleoSq2mAEoR6zOGxqGEX3mjFze9lsopvsg8dEhLtn9yk1dLiw85fZPrx73PyZako_qpK9vL2a61nraYGfU1E1AkQ_FzssXANMLdC9IDlSq9OjGnxYW5wU8w/s1600-h/dbe81513cb4afe25fd36ab3e22e74cf5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha16gDOlD2mhCMz-KleoSq2mAEoR6zOGxqGEX3mjFze9lsopvsg8dEhLtn9yk1dLiw85fZPrx73PyZako_qpK9vL2a61nraYGfU1E1AkQ_FzssXANMLdC9IDlSq9OjGnxYW5wU8w/s320/dbe81513cb4afe25fd36ab3e22e74cf5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063062138827278354" border="0" /></a><br />Oh God, months pass and my blog is blogged down. Ignored and unloved by me as I desperately try to finish my book.<br /><br />How I admire (and hate) those smug bluggers who manage to write something new every day. Where do they get the time? Whilst they sit polishing some amusing paragraph I’m desperately trying to stay awake and concentrate on my plot lines.<br /><br />To keep my hand in I wrote some stuff for UKAuthors but then I had a bad conscience thinking that instead of parading my talent on other sites I SHOULD BE FINISHING MY FUCKING BOOK.<br /><br />So I ignored UKAuthors and the chance to write some filth for a sexy American site that actually pays you!!!!! – and chained myself to my Mac.<br /><br />Of course, Morgan (my co-writer and provider of wit) helps but he’s just about submerged in a torrent of shit call Reckitts. They’re a huge company that markets Nurofen, Strepsils, Vanish, Lemsip and Calgon. And when I tell you that the ranting wanker on Chilit Bang is one of their more sophisticated ads you’ll understand why Morgan, whilst deeply busy, is also deeply depressed. He calls them Wreckitts after what they do to his scripts.<br /><br />However my debts and his need to escape from Wreckitts should be a great incentive to finish our tome. It’s just a matter of time – or the fucking lack of it.<br /><br />Talking about fucking (and now some of my readers will suddenly start paying attention) it’s been a very active month or two.<br /><br />Thinking about it, maybe if I’d spent as much time bent over the computer as I have been bent over the bed/kitchen table/somebody’s knee, I might have been more productive in a literary way. But there you are – tempest fukit!<br /><br />I’m still with Ms Hastings. I’m amazed after my past relationships record but she seems to be still in lurrrrrrrve with me. Of course, we can only be together occasionally – but when we are they are definitely occasions.<br /><br />She loves sex as much as I do and is keen to experiment. And as Hastings (where she lives) has the World’s Greatest Family Sexshop she often turns up with little turn-ons.<br /><br />But lately she had been unfaithful to her home town’s wicked wares and has taken to ordering stuff from knickerdrawer.com – a site for women by women.<br /><br />It’s a fun site and I only wish, on behalf of my sex, that they were as painstaking with their spelling and punctuation as they are with the choice of products. Here then, are a few that caught my eye (I’ve left the copy unchecked):<br /><br />How about Blueberry Cheesecake flavoured lube? I quote…<br /><br />“…O'My favoured lubes contain all the trusted ingredients of a natural lubricant, but add a succulent and fruity twist to your sex play! Flavoured lubruicants are ideal for intercourse and oral sex - and of course a little of both and then some... O'My Flavoured lubricants contain no artificial flavours or colours, just good clean yummy fun. If that wasn’t enough they're low calorie and sugar free too.”<br /><br />Or what about the Ecstasy Lounge.<br /><br />This has to be seen or rather sat on to be believed. It’s a large pink plastic cushion with a 6” vibrator. I quote:<br /><br />“Unusual but great fun. This inflatable cushion comes with a built in, 6"multi-speed vibrator for the ultimate in bouncy castle fun. The two handles mean that you can really get to grips with it. Think of it as a space hopper for grown-ups.”<br /><br />Of course, in Brighton on a sunny Saturday you see plenty of pink blobby things with cocks attached. But most discerning women wouldn’t want to get to grips with them and I’d be surprised if any of them could offer a 6” multi-speed, especially after a few lagers.<br /><br />However what Ms Hastings had in mind was a simple strap-on. Now I’ve never felt the need of a strap-on. Like just about every woman I’ve got a Rabbit burrowed away for those special moments but even then I still prefer the personal touch at these times – and my fingers are well practiced.<br /><br />As for being fucked by a strap-on, if I wanted a cock up me I’d be having affairs with men – it’s that simple.<br /><br />But my delicious lover was keen to try one for size, so together we chose one. We considered the Xtra vibe strap-on (pictured above), I quote:<br /><br />“Like a normal strap-on but better. this one has it all. The jelly shaft contains rotating balls for a lovley internal massage. On the top of the shaft is an independantly controlled vibrating egg, designed to stimulate the receivers cliterous. If that wasn't enough the wearer also gets a treat in the form of her own vibrating egg attached to the inside of the harness”<br /><br />Hmmmm, a bit technical for us, and I, for one, couldn’t fuck with one without falling down laughing – so no points for the Xtra Vibe.<br /><br />Instead we invested in a plain old pink jelly cock attached to a crotchless latex thong.<br /><br />She had first go and that why I’ve been bent over to many things. I’ve had it jiggling around in my cunt and I’ve had it up my bum and, I’m afraid, it hasn’t made much of an impression. I still prefer my lover’s fleshy digits and tingling tongue<br /><br />Then I had a go myself. I strapped it on and looked down at the rather obscene looking pink jelly cock, dangling below me.<br /><br />Ms Hasting big bum is always enticing and as she leant over the bed I naturally felt excited whilst I directed the lubbed cock towards her. Which hole first, oh decisions, decisions. I spread her tanned cheeks, surveyed my pink playground – and plumped for her arse.<br /><br />The cock pressed against her ring, I pushed and it easily slid in. Ms Hasting gasped and twitched. I waggled my bum and Ms Hastings gasped even more – it was certainly hitting the spot for her<br /><br />And, well, I felt a bit of power as I hung onto her cheeks and pumped away. Oh god, penis power, not at all (so please no more insults from rabid feminists) but just a strange and rather pleasant feeling of power over my lover’s emotions. Of course I get it when I fuck her normally and naturally. But that stupid bit of wobbly plastic just seemed to amplify the feelings.<br /><br />Odd but strapping good fun, and there’s nothing wrong with that.<br /><br /><br />Love & Kisses SadieSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-18077272443495206702007-02-26T12:22:00.000+00:002007-02-26T12:27:51.771+00:00Pantyhose passions part 2.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYK1jSQV6uePMl6dt6V0FEEJmbxR7Q_HxSzaCN59p4Ae1pElpusfgOlgMqPuECF2mQzRliqB6xVO8-COa8TWEos1S2Em50e2KPJC5c06C5fM2Zz6SQtD4wcVMuR19uNg-3aHU_yw/s1600-h/tn_robyn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYK1jSQV6uePMl6dt6V0FEEJmbxR7Q_HxSzaCN59p4Ae1pElpusfgOlgMqPuECF2mQzRliqB6xVO8-COa8TWEos1S2Em50e2KPJC5c06C5fM2Zz6SQtD4wcVMuR19uNg-3aHU_yw/s320/tn_robyn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035818050416394562" border="0" /></a>Well well, the pantypost still goes on. After my little piece about having my gusset gobbled by pretty Polly one January afternoon, so many 15 denier devotees have been in touch. By the way the pic sadly isn't me but I like to dream that it is the view Polly had of me.<br /><br />Several writers suggested getting into deep discussions on the subject in Brighton hotel rooms – naughty boys! But a couple actually wrote interesting emails about their love of lycra and where it had taken them – kinky!<br /><br />That time with Polly was a bit of a surprise for me I must confess. Like just about every woman I’ve always had a bit of a thing about knickers and their sexual effect. I think it started when I showed my Ladybird briefs to Martin Parsons. I was six then but I’ve been flashing them, one way or another, ever since.<br /><br />I’ve always loved sexy lingerie and have recently added latex to my repertoire. But, tights?<br /><br />Like most women, I sniff for freshness than put on and eventually take off my tights daily without thinking about their sexual possibilities. It's a bit like men suddenly finding out that women are madly turned on by grey M&S socks.<br /><br />But now I completely understand their attraction and so, I find, does most of the world, just put the word ‘pantyhose’ into Google and see how many sites there are.<br /><br />But don’t do it yet because I want you to read my two correspondents.<br /><br />One is a 23-year old woman who was as surprised as I was and another is from a man who’s been into tights (literally) for many years and now combines them with World War 2 gasmasks for total sexual pleasure – imagine it, Mum’s Aristocs meets Dad’s Army?<br /><br />But, ladies first…<br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Dear Sadie,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">I love reading your blog and your stories because you’re so sexy and so brilliantly funny at the same time (I left that bit in because I’m a sad praise addict but now for the serious bit)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Like you I never associated tights with sex, in my sexual relations with either men or women. I suppose I’m rather conservative in these matters but that’s the way I am.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">So when I had a drink with X after we’d been working in the same office for nine months I thought it was just a normal start to a relationship. She made it very clear to me that she found me attractive and she complimented me on my office clothes. I found this odd because they were nothing special. The office dress code is fairly formal so I was wearing a black suit and white blouse, as was she.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">She then suggested a club nearby, now I knew this was gay, and that it had lesbian nights but I welcomed the freedom to explore our affair. The only thing was I didn’t feel that my boring office clothes were right for this but X was insistent.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Later, at the club, we sat in the dark amongst women who were getting very friendly, we kissed but I was surprised when without warning X put her hand up my skirt. Now men have tried this and I normally feel rather insulted but it was such a surprise that I did nothing. X’s hand started feeling around my thighs and then between my legs. She then whispered about her love of tights and how sexy I was in my black tights and that was the beginning.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">I’m now a dedicated tight fanatic thanks to X. It started with just the two of us at X’s flat. Like you, we were both topless but our lower halves were covered by our sexy tights. It’s a wonderful sensation isn’t it Sadie. I just adore my bum being stroked and X licking me through my tights.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Later, I sucked and licked X. We both had amazing orgasms.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">We did this for weeks and then X tore up a pair of tights and put one piece over my head. Initially I panicked but then when I realised I could breathe I found the restriction very sexy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Then X suggested tying me up. I trusted her so she tied me and covered my face with tights. Then she made me suck her off through the material.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">X would push her finger wrapped in the tights into my vagina and it felt really good. Then she pushed her tight wrapped finger up my bum and I was amazed how great it felt.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">I now felt I couldn’t enjoy sex if tights weren’t involved. I even feel sexy at the office wearing my tights without knickers. Do you think this is strange Sadie?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">X belongs to a Yahoo ‘pantyhose’ group and regularly contributes to the forum. She read of a ‘meet’ in a motel sort of place near Birmingham and suggested we go. It would have normally been the last thing I’d have even considered – but I said yes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">We all gathered in this large bedroom and there were about 4 couples, 6 women and 2 men. We each disappeared into the bathroom and came back naked but for tights. We were all shapes and sizes but some of the women were quite attractive.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">One couple, a man and a woman, put some music on and then they lay on the bed and started to fondle each other. Maybe it’s because X and I had enjoyed several drinks in the hotel bar but I found it very arousing. The man was rubbing the woman between her legs and she was sucking on his cock that was prominent under his tights.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">X started kissing me and feeling my bum and I kissed her nipples. Then I felt another hand on me and looked round. It was the other couple, and the man was stroking my thigh but his partner, a woman was looking on approvingly. I guessed that this was meant to be a group event. X manoeuvred me around so the man could get more intimate with me and X could get more intimate with the woman. In seconds, the man had his hand between my legs, X had one hand on my bum and the other between the woman’s legs and the woman was stroking my breasts.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">As you might imagine Sadie this was very exciting and my crotch was soon very damp but I didn’t care because so was everyone elses. We swapped partners and stimulated each other for hours. At one point I had a woman sucking my nipples, another woman sucking my vagina and another woman tickling my bum with her tongue. We all got very stimulated but our tights stayed on because that was the sexy part really.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Eventually the two men and woman couples had sex through torn tights on the bed and in front of us. X then tore my tights at the crotch and brought me to orgasm with her finger and tongue. And, you know Sadie, I just</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">loved doing it with other people watching. A couple of months ago I would have been horrified at the thought. But now I can’t wait to go to another group meet.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Then, we got dressed, had a chat and left.</span><br /><br />She then wrote some stuff about my blog but it was so flattering that I’m too modest to share it with you. I love the last bit however, I wonder after getting dressed what the group talked about? Being Brits it might have been about the weather or considering the afternoon whether Wolford tights rip better than Aristocs.<br /><br />Now it’s the turn of a very nice guy with some interesting interests:<br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Dear Sadie</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">I’m very happy to tell you more about my ventures into BDSM. I’m a closet fetishist and know that my deep, furtive desires would horrify my long-term partner. Our relationship is great in all but the erotic realm, and I agonized for ages before taking the plunge to act out my urges. And now, telling you, it’s also quite cathartic to be able to spill the beans.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Who knows where such yearnings come from, but ever since I became aware of my sexuality, I was fascinated by dominant women. Generally, I’m a strong and assertive person, but wanted to be overwhelmed sexually. While I was a student, I found a couple of sympathetic girlfriends who came to share my bondage and domination kinks. These involved the liberal use of tights, worn conventionally (by both of us), as restraints and gags, and (this took a little persuasion at first) as masks.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">The mask thing really caught my imagination, and stayed with me. One day, I saw a gas mask for sale in an Army Surplus shop and realized with a jolt of lust that it could be used as a prop in my preferred bedroom games. I especially liked the thought of my female partners concealing their faces behind a grotesque respirator before doing what they wanted with me. I tiptoed round the topic with a succession of girlfriends (even one of the stocking-mask wearers), but only met with disgusted rejection.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Now, to move on a few years and cut to the chase…I wanted to realize my erotic dream of being dommed by a gasmasked mistress. The first couple or so I tried reacted in a similar way, though not quite as shocked, as my former girlfriends when I mentioned my special needs. Then I rang X. She was a part-time lifestyle mistress who did sessions for pleasure and (as she put it) ‘pocket money’ and was totally unfazed by my unusual request.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Come the day, I found myself tapping timidly at the door of a purpose-built BDSM studio at the bottom of an extensive wooded suburban garden. Mistress X opened up and asked me in; she was a self-confident woman in her early thirties with an easy manner and a nice line in self-deprecating humour, and I took to her instantly. She had below-shoulder-length brown hair and her wide-hipped, hourglass figure was encased in a skintight mini dress in black latex. The front of the dress was open to show some cleavage, but I noticed that it could zip right up to a high neck. Her legs – o joy! – were encased in sheer tan tights. We chatted for a bit, and then I showed her the mask from my collection that I had brought along. It was a World War 2 ‘elephant trunk’ gas mask.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">She loved the look of it, turned it over in her hands, and made appreciative noises. We agreed to play out a scenario where I was a burglar and she had caught me trying on her hosiery.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">I was told to go into the main room of the studio, strip, and pull on a pair of her tights that she had laid out for me. After a couple of minutes of waiting, the door slowly opened and X. made her entrance. Or rather, it was a new version of the pretty, long-haired woman I had been speaking to earlier. She had done her hair up in a topknot before pulling a sheer stocking, tan to match her tights, over her head. Her dress was now zipped right up to the neck and she’d tucked the stocking under the collar. Across her chest, she’d strapped the canvas army bag containing my mask.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Head to toe, she was covered in nylon and rubber. Clutching a riding crop in a gloved hand, she advanced on me and brought her stockinged face close to mine. Her delicate features were now blurred and distorted by the tight nylon skin, which pulled the end of her nose and eyebrows up and flattened her lips. This sinister figure ordered me to kneel. Circling round me, V whacked me across the buttocks with the riding crop before turning her attention to my cock. “How pathetic” she hissed in my ear, “let’s see if we can make it bigger before the end of the session.” “But first,” she went on “if you like women’s tights so much, let’s see how you fancy being strangled and suffocated with them. Lie down!” I did as she commanded, and X straddled my chest, her rubber dress stretching taut across her thighs as she rested her weight on me. The bank-robber face leered down at me as she picked up a spare pair of hose, dragged them roughly over my head, and slowly tightened the legs around my neck. She knew what she was doing and released them in just enough time for the strangulation to be exciting but not downright scary. She repeated the game several times, all the while insulting me and yelling at me how she could easily kill me. Next came the suffocation; she kept the tights on my head but dragged a stretched surgical rubber glove over them. From inside my rubber prison, I watched the glove inflate as I gasped for air.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">“I don’t think I look frightening enough” V suddenly announced as she released me from the glove. Opening the poppers of the army bag, she out eased the black, corrugated rubber hose and the face piece of the vintage gas mask. “This’ll scare the shit out of you if I put it on, won’t it? Or maybe you’ll just be turned on by it, you perv.” With this, she stretched the straps of the mask and, smiling wickedly at me, pulled it over her stockinged head. The effect was electric; this attractive young woman had instantly transformed herself into a nightmarish, insect-like apparition. Her voice was muffled and deep as she bent down to speak to me. “I wish I had some poison gas here. I’d asphyxiate you, you worm.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">We played a few more games, with V striding around still wearing the respirator, tying me up to a hanging beam, clamping my nipples, and whipping me. Eventually, I was made to kneel at her feet as she sat in a chair, massage her tights-clad legs up to just above the knee and stimulate myself to orgasm while looking at her gas masked face.</span><br /><br />Well! All this makes me feel like the Country Mouse – very innocent. As I mentioned to my male correspondent I’ve had several lovers during my life for whom tights over the face would have been an improvement but I’ve never thought about it as a turn-on during fucking – just where have I been???<br /><br />Are there any more lycropaths out there who would like to introduce my readers to new 15 denier delights? Well, get in touch.<br /><br />Love & kisses (through tights) Sadie xxxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-1171718022860132782007-02-17T13:08:00.000+00:002007-02-22T17:47:13.524+00:00Pantyhose passions<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5996/522/1600/381779/camilla_sielle01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5996/522/320/93516/camilla_sielle01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I get loads of emails (and to answer most of them ‘No I couldn’t possibly do that without pulling a muscle in my back’). However, I often get them from people I’ve mentioned in my blog and that’s ok. But I recently got one from Polly with whom I enjoyed a little January jiggling.<br /><br />She was very upset about the tone of my piece ‘What to do in a tight situation’ . I was about to write ‘she’s got her knickers in a twist’ but I better not now, as it’s a very serious subject.<br /><br />So here’s her email. Please read it then think: Is snogging a snatch through lycra weird or not? The decision is yours.<br /><br />Dear Sadie,<br /><br />Hello, how are you? Thank you for the saucy note you sent after you got back to your flat. I am ok and now XXXXX and the kids are back life is normal and pleasant, if rather unexciting.<br /><br />You did mention that you might put our afternoon together on your blog. But, well I didn’t expect you to write it in such detail.<br /><br />You asked me to tell you what I thought about your ‘reportage’. Well, in general, it was very accurate and I actually found myself quite turned on by it, is that strange? But I have two criticisms.<br /><br />First, how dare you say I have a big bum. It’s no bigger than yours which I see in your past writings you’ve described as ‘sexy’ and ‘curvy’. I certainly thought it was, especially when it was encased in your black ‘Close Encounter’ tights with your white knickers underneath. I can still imagine you bent over the sofa offering your bum to me and allowing me to do anything I wanted to. You say in your story that you quite liked it but I remember you being very enthusiastic.<br /><br />But, more seriously, although you say you’re not surprised by anything anymore I note a hint of criticism in the words you use. I quote:<br /><br />‘She was almost ignoring me as a person by now’<br /><br />‘How she met up in a hotel outside Birmingham with fellow tight-sniffers’<br /><br />‘No what amazed me was that this respectable, pillar of the community, on the school board, happily married mother of two, harboured such extraordinary sexual longings. It was sheer madness.’<br /><br />I’m afraid I detect that very conservative English emotion that is summed up as: “I have exciting sexual desires but you are a pervert”. I believe I have a normal sexual life that includes a desire to occasionally share it with women and also to use items of clothing to increase the sensations. What do you find weird about that?<br /><br />All the women I know ‘in the community’ and even on ‘the school board’ have a healthy interest in their underwear as an item of fashion. And surveys in magazines suggest that women all over the United Kingdom share this interest. <br /><br />We all know that wearing sexy underwear in the bedroom is a remarkably common prelude to sexual activity and is practiced by many ‘ happily married mothers of two’.<br /><br />So why did you think it was ‘extraordinary’ that I was turned on by you wearing tights and knickers and that I wanted to express those feelings by kissing your sexual parts and exploring them with my tongue. The feel of lycra encasing legs, thighs, bums and stomachs is extremely sensual and I really don’t think this is some perversion carried out by ‘tight-sniffers’. It is just a case of underwear creating a great atmosphere that leads to sexual intercourse – and that is a very ordinary happening.<br /><br />But the bit that hurt me most was ‘She was almost ignoring me as a person by now’ How could you write this Sadie? I think that over our few hours together I never forgot that you were a person and I demonstrated this by my constant and active efforts to give you sexual pleasure. I talked to you all the time and asked you whether you liked what I was doing and did you want me to do anything else? I remember you being very vocal and crude about your desires but that’s one of the things I loved about you Sadie.<br /><br />I’m sorry to go on but I resent the impression you left in your blog that I was some kind of ‘in-human pervert’. I expected you to be worldlier about sexual matters, just because internet sites feature a sexual activity doesn’t automatically make it weird – there’s a lot of heterosexual sex on there isn’t there?<br /><br />However on a happier note it would be great if we could meet up again to chat, discuss my criticisms or do anything you like – just wear tights :)<br /><br />Love XXXXXXXXXX<br /><br />Well, I did reply and apologise, I try to write amusing stuff in my blog and sometimes the jokes set a tone I didn’t really intend. I’d hate her to think I thought she was pants!<br /><br />However, I might just take up her tempting offer. But, at the moment my lovely Ms Hastings is back in my life and we’re hot when we’re together. Last night, she kept her tights on…just a little longer why we played.<br /><br />They were black Wolford Velvet De Luxe 50, for your information Polly, and they made her bum feel like a big luscious peach. Mmmmmmmmmm!<br /><br />Love & kisses SadieSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-1170508727113313122007-02-03T13:17:00.000+00:002007-02-27T09:44:33.896+00:00What to do in a tight situationWhen you dive into deviancy and leave the safe shores of married heterosexual shagging I suppose you should expect to wash up in some weird places (and run out of watery metaphors).<br /><br />I mean the sexy dark places I like to write about. Over the past couple of years various women have offered to wrestle me, go naked hiking with me, brand me with hot irons, shave me, and cover me in chocolate, But although I was very curious and not a little titillated by some of these suggestions I only agreed to one. Guess which? Here’s a clue: yum, yum!<br /><br />So I suppose I shouldn’t have been shocked by what happened the week after New Year’s Day. My occasional girl friend Ms Hastings was off skiing with her husband and I was moping around at various parties on my own. Ms Hastings is very relaxed about this, when she’s with hubbie I’m allowed to pursue temporary liaisons (nice word) if they are offered.<br /><br />That’s the fascinating thing about gays. Unlike straight couples who mostly need to lap up a couple of dinners and a bit of culture before they lap up each other, we often find ourselves in each other’s pants just hours after we’ve first met.<br /><br />Especially women as, I suppose, we sort of trust each other, the sex doesn’t have to be one-sided and penetrative and you won’t get pregnant.<br /><br />So, to get to my shocking tale, I started talking to this woman at a lunch party. I’ve promised to keep her totally anonymous so no details of where or when. However I’ll call her Polly, after Pretty Polly (you see why soon). It was pretty dressy so I was in a skirt and fuck-me heels and so was she.<br /><br />I’d met Polly a couple of times before at similar do’s, she wasn’t part of the Brighton muffia but she seemed to like to hang out with us and she was apparently very happily married with kids. Ah ha, you think the plot deepens!<br /><br />Well, at least, our conversation did, we started by discussing Little Miss Sunshine, found we both liked Amy Winehouse a lot and so on and so forth. Then, after several glasses of cold white wine we got on to hotter personal matters, I talked about Ms Hastings and her frequent absences from my bed and she confessed that, nice as hubbie and kids were, there was a bit of excitement missing.<br /><br />Ah, the signals – I’ve learnt them pretty fast and they definitely suggested that Sadie might be in for a little New Year nookie that afternoon.<br /><br />Then it was time to go and she offered me a lift. We chatted aimlessly while I checked her body out as she drove, nice legs, full but sexy thighs, big bum, big tits and an attractive face with a rather dirty looking mouth. She turned to say something and caught me looking at her. We grinned at each other.<br /><br />Then, just before we hit Brighton Polly hit on me. She pulled into a lay by and stopped the car.<br /><br />“Look Sadie, you know I find you very sexy” she said nervously. Then she placed her hand on my knee and gently stroked it.<br /><br />“My house is just over there…would you like to come back with me?”<br /><br />Well that was direct. No excuse of a cup of tea or to see the new kitchen. Just, why not pop over for a fuck, I liked that.<br /><br />And so then we were on the sofa in her smart living room kissing each other in the French manner. Mr Polly and the little ones were walking in the Lake District for a couple of days so the house was ours. She’d said she didn’t want to go into the bedroom because it would seem unfair to her husband and I understood that.<br /><br />However, I wanted to move things along a bit so I stood up and looked down at her.<br /><br />“Well” I said.<br /><br />At this, she placed her hands on the back of my legs and then slowly moved them upwards. She pushed my skirt up and squeezed my thighs and then her fingers were massaging my bum.<br /><br />This was nice but I was a bit puzzled by her next comment.<br /><br />“Sadie, I find you so sexy like this, but, look I don’t want to put you off, but there’s something, I errrrr, there’s something I like doing”<br /><br />Oh oh I thought, flagellation, fisting, dressing up as Cheri Blair – you just don’t know these days.<br /><br />“Look, Polly, anything goes babe” I said in a hopefully cool way.<br /><br />Her hands gripped my thighs and pulled me towards her. She rested her face against my disarranged skirt and looked up at me.<br /><br />“It’s just that I’m really turned on by you in…these tights”<br /><br />Ahh, I hadn’t met one of these before but I’d read about them on the mucky sites I watch at 3am in the morning. She was into my tights. They were nothing special - ‘Close Encounters’ from M&S, but actually the name was rather appropriate. She was a pantyhose fan, yea, this rather twee American word for tights was all over the internet. Pantyhose Fun, Lesbians in Pantyhose, Men in Pantyhose, Pets in pantyhose (fuck, saying it four times means I’m going to get so many mentions on Google now)<br /><br />I said nothing but just stroked her hair so she took this as a ‘go ahead’. She unzipped my skirt and slipped it down. I was now just in my blouse, tights with a white thong underneath and my fuck-me’s.<br /><br />She buried her face into my belly and then, after a moment, looked appealingly up at me.<br /><br />“Oh Sadie” she said. “Can I do…anything”<br /><br />I nodded and her face was now in my crotch. Not just resting on it but actively burrowing into my mound. Her hands were on my arse pulling me even tighter against her exploring nose. I imagined she was getting a subtle whiff of sexy sadieness.<br /><br />Then she stood up, I stood watching her wondering what was going to happen next. She slipped her skirt down and I saw she was not wearing knickers under her tights. Polly’s trimmed pubes faced me defiantly.<br /><br />She took my arm and led my around the sofa. Then, by pressing her hand on her back she indicated that I was to bend over the back. Once in position with my arse in the air, I suddenly felt her hands all over my cheeks, patting, smoothing and squeezing the thin shiny material that covered them. Wow, she loved lycra!<br /><br />Then her face was in my crack. She was actually rubbing her cheek against mine and even kissing it.<br /><br />For minutes, she brushed my bum with her face. I could hear her breathing growing more intense and then she was up my arse in the nicest possible way.<br /><br />If someone had come in they would probably have assumed from my position and her attention that we were just two members of the Advertising profession but it felt strange to me.<br /><br />It was an odd sensation owing to the material tights are made of. There is some feeling of covering but otherwise you seem naked. But then I felt her tongue pushing against the springy fabric and a slight damp feeling. As I said, weird.<br /><br />Equally odd was me, later, with my legs in the air while she grazed on my gusset. She was almost ignoring me as a person by now. She was manoeuvring me into position and then tasting my tights. It felt that her tongue was trying to force its way through to my cunt. Then she was biting me gently, her teeth nibbling away and pulling on my thong. And then she was pressing her mouth and nose into me and I suddenly began to like it. My tights and thong were damp – and so was I.<br /><br />She sat up on her knees panting gently. I decided it was time I got involved so I sat up, opened her shirt and slipped it off. She was wearing a classy looking bra which she opened at the front and her big tits fell out.<br /><br />“Now you’ she said and in seconds my nipples were perking up in the cool air. But she hadn’t finished down below and she lifted my legs and pushed me back so she could have unrestricted access.<br /><br />For minutes she tantalised me thought the thin material. I was getting those feelings and so was she. With my head on the carpet I could see her gusset and her hand was in there and her fingers were working hard.<br /><br />Finally she must have cum or something because she stopped and sat back looking at me blissfully. I let my legs fall back and we both relaxed.<br /><br />“Fancy a snack darling before we…carry on?” she said. Well, I thought, you’ve already had yours.<br /><br />We both got up. My tights were soaked through but I left them on. They obviously excited Polly and I wanted her totally turned on.<br /><br />Polly came back, set a small table, lit a candle then, put two interesting looking salads out with a bottle of wine. We ate, an odd sight I expect, two 30 year olds topless in tights. Now that would make a great website name!<br /><br />After we’d finished the meal Polly started on me again. This time I knew what to expect and I allowed myself to be used like a lycra covered sexual organ. She sucked me, stretched me, and tried to split me open.<br /><br />Then, being a Brit she practiced fair play and I found my face in her silky snatch. Later I tried her arse for size but I found the whole experience a bit frustrating. The material was a barrier to my pleasure not a boost.<br /><br />But she was so excited. So I took her in my arms, our tights finally came off and we finished ourselves off with a good old - fashioned fuck.<br /><br />Later, as I got dressed she told me about her fetish. How she chatted to groups across the world, how she’s met up in a hotel outside Birmingham with fellow tight-sniffers. Pantyhose Orgy, I said, (wow, google will now go mad!)<br /><br />We kissed, said we must do this again, and I went outside to the comparatively sane world of a cab driver’s banter all the way to Brighton.<br /><br />At the beginning of this I said I was shocked but it wasn’t the gusset snuffling. I’ve seen and expect I’ll experience even odder things than that. No what amazed me was that this respectable, pillar of the community, on the school board, happily married mother of two, harboured such extraordinary sexual longings.<br /><br />It was sheer madness.<br /><br />Love & kisses Sadie xxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-1170204029387154492007-01-31T00:38:00.000+00:002007-01-31T00:40:29.390+00:00Cold nights and hot pornHey, January is supposed to be the most depressing month of the year but I must disagree with this. <br /><br />For me this January is the most depressing month in the Millennium. <br /><br />Why? Well. I’m missing my lovely girlfriend Ms Hastings. She and hubbie have gone skiing. I imagine her in her tight fitting ski pants slaloming around mounds and crevices that aren’t mine.<br /><br />Then, there’s the weather. When my book makes me rich I’ll be somewhere warm about now. Florida maybe, perhaps Spain, or will South America twang my thong? Who knows but I desperately want to be somewhere sunny, bright and oh so warrrrrrmmmmm! Instead I’m freezing my arse off along the Brighton prom. As you know I love this sexy city but, at this time of the year most interesting things (apart from my nipples) shrink in the cold.<br /><br />One thing that is sadly decreased is my enthusiasm for doing any work. So although I dream about what I’ll do when the book’s finished all I’m doing at the moment is dreaming.<br /><br />I really hope Morgan (my co-writer) is burning the midnight oil (at least he’ll be warm) but the last time I spoke to him he said he was busy writing ads for the worst client in the world. Now, most advertising clients are bastards so these suckers must be really special. Apparently they’re big on lavatory cleaners – write your own jokes!<br /><br />Speaking of being creative I have done one positive writing thing, I’ve posted two of my short stories on a site called UKAuthors. You can find them by going to www.ukauthors.com/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=18295. Yea, it looks confusing but it works.<br /><br />They are in the erotica section, naturally – why, did you think I’d be in Romance? You put them on the site and other writers comment on them. I thought it would be interesting to see whether my idea of erotic writing rocked people or repelled them.<br /><br />Actually everyone was very cool and sophisticated and I was encouraged by their fairly enthusiastic response. My critics were more concerned by my misuse of commas and semi-colons than my character’s misuse of cunts so I think we might have the right balance of prose and porn in the book.<br /><br />You move up a chart based on how many people read your piece during the week and I got to number one. How about that, Sadie’s on top for once?<br /><br />I'll be in France when you read this. Hopefully my writing abilities will be re-charged in the land of Hugo, Verne, Sartre and the Marquis de Sade. Certainly my spirits will be as I’m holidaying with my very good friend Monsieur Jacques Daniel.<br /><br />Au revoir<br /><br />Love & kisses Sadie xxxxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-1167948691544479112007-01-04T22:10:00.000+00:002007-01-04T22:17:19.513+00:00Sugasm #61Sorry Vixen, am I the only cunt on the web who can't post your lovely picks with links that can be opened? Women eh!!!<br /><br /><br />Editors’ Note: This week’s Sugasm was delayed 48 hours due to domain issues. They’ve been resolved and we’re back on schedule. Thanks for your patience!<br /><br />The best of this weeks blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #62? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.<br /><br />This Week’s Picks<br />Me, Her, and Him 3 (http://erotischism.blogspot.com)<br />“But as sexually satisfied as he kept Kendall — or as satisfied as one man could — she was yearning for another kind of action.”<br /><br />Polyamory vs. Polyfuckery (http://perverselypoly.blogspot.com)<br />“I admire Rachel’s altruism, despite her saying it’s a practical matter of what it takes to get her wet.”<br /><br />A is for Abandon (http://redvelvetropeburn.com)<br />“The hands pressed into her lower back and she wanted to ask Him if He had felt them but her orgasm overtook her and she lost all conscious thought for a few moments.”<br /><br />Mr. Sugasm Himself<br />The Best of SugarBank 2006 (http://sugarbank.com)<br /><br />Editors’ Choice<br />Lovely Contradictions (http://pick-up-pieces.blogspot.com)<br /><br />More Sugasm<br />Join the Sugasm<br /><br />(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)<br /><br />BDSM and Fetish<br />B is for Bondage (http://lafillemariee.blogspot.com)<br />The Big Tease (Part Four) (http://orgasmdenialstories.blogspot.com)<br />Happy Holidays (http://masterenigma.blogspot.com)<br /><br />Erotic Writing and Experiences<br />2006 Dark Odyssey post roundup (http://viviane212.blogspot.com)<br />The Dirty Mistress (http://dirtylittlecockslut.blogspot.com)<br />Making Myself Come (http://plum001.blogspot.com)<br />A Night at the Opera, continued. (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)<br />The Night Turned to Morning (http://www.betweensheets.net)<br />The Return of Lost Love http://eroticjournals.blogspot.com<br />The Road to Hell (http://sexandtheivy.com)<br />Simply Ambrosial (http://randisexadpoetry.blogspot.com)<br /><br />NSFW Pics<br />Hardcore for the Holidays: Photo and Video (http://www.taratainton.com)<br /><br />Sex News & Reviews<br />Adult Marketing, 2007 Style (http://fullfrontalpolitics.com)<br />Half-Nekkid Tribute (http://www.tarasnaughtyshop.com)<br />Welcome to “Smack Yourself” by Sensei and Pet (http://sexblogwelcome.blogspot.com)<br /><br />Sexy Humor<br />All hail the Mighty Vagina! A request for Submissions (http://sexdriver.blogspot.com)<br />Santa’s coming but Sadie isn’t (http://www.sadiedark69.blogspot.com)<br /><br />Slippery MetArt beauty courtesy of The Erotica Journals.Sadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8009976.post-1166967232664699742006-12-24T13:29:00.000+00:002006-12-24T14:02:40.426+00:00Santa's coming but Sadie isn't<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5996/522/1600/832030/013.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5996/522/320/834353/013.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I ate my Christmas pudding on Saturday…<br /><br />…and she was lovely. Yes, my cuddly lover Ms Hastings and I had a fantastic day. We did a bit of festive shopping, then some festive swigging in Charles St then it was back to my place for a bit of festive fffffff- (ok I’ll call it frolicking as it’s Christmas)<br /><br />But now she’s back with her husband for the next few big days and I’m on my xxxxing own for Xmas. Ok, ok, I know that’s what happens if you choose to get mixed up with the married but such smug lecturing doesn’t make me feel more guilty or less desolate.<br /><br />Of course, I’m having Christmas lunch with friends, but most of them are couples (of all genders) and, at the finish of the day, they go home together and I end up watching the fucking Snowman or something on TV with just my imagination for company and my fingers, of course. But in a time of love and giving, that doesn’t feel very appropriate – you can’t imagine Bing singing, “I’m dreaming of a wanking Christmas’ can you?<br /><br />Perhaps I’ll get on with my book, a bit of angst never did most great writers any harm I suppose. I bet Ibsen and Graham Greene and Saul Bellow got pretty pissed at Christmas time so I too will channel my pain into my pages.<br /><br />Fuck, I shouldn’t have drunk so much red wine today it always makes me gloomy…<br /><br />Shmmmerrry Christmurrrrrrrrrse<br /><br />Sadie xxSadie Darkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02410133165949794048noreply@blogger.com6