Of boots and marscapone | 2

I've been thinking of your smoothness all day, trying to keep my mind off how I'll be touching you. Places and positions and what first and in whatever order. Will I be so greedy that I'll bring you to orgasm at once? What am I worrying about, you've always got more of where that came from, haven't you, gorgeous-sexy?

Smoothness, hmmm. But how to achieve it? Would you like to watch me work the razor over the strop? Do you trust me enough to let me pass the blade over your mound? I'd love to masturbate but I'll settle for a text message. dabfumbledabdab. How many letters did I get wrong there? I really should try to calm down.

So, you're instructed. You'll know what to do, fucking hell yes you do.

See you later, taste you even later... fuck you eventually yes, but not too soon, not today.

Of boots and marscapone | 1

And the elegance of silver teaspoons grazing their way over shaven legs. Watch this space...

Fetish customer care, mmm...

Credit where it's due: thanks to Rogerio of Libidex for his advice, it's going to be much appreciated.

Food and footwear

I'm looking forward to being inspired soon by Foodmuse, who accompanies me in my thoughts anytime I shop for shoes or food. When you see me writing about either, you can bet that she'll have visited me in the night and planted some delicious notion in my head; it will be my great pleasure to write for her. Even as I write, I'm mulling over something involving shackles and fruit salad...

Why doesn't Ferragamo do a ballet boot? Why doesn't Tricker's do a men's high-heeled brogue? Don't these people know how big an opportunity they're missing?

Idle thoughts

No true love without desire; no true desire without love, I'm gorgeously releasing my happiness inside you.

Thank you

...to Those Who Know And Understand, I bow to you all.

Ambitions and desires

Still feeling my way in this, experimenting with a variety of forms: short stories, scenes, ideas for things to play with, single lines of something that moves me. I'm vain enough to suppose i might even be able to attempt some cinematic treatments: broad-brush, impressionistic scenes of lovemaking, drawn both from outside the body as well as inside the heart. I'd put poetry there too, if I didn't feel so foolish in admitting it. Also making irregular appearances will be my suggestions for Hopelessly Ambitious Opening Lines, gambits guaranteed to get you a slap across the chops.

So much erotica, so little that's any good

I was moved to open this blog after I'd spent some time online and discovered a pleasure in writing about sexual experience; I like to think my blog can be more than just the usual porn-for-the-boys. I won't be writing anything along the lines of "Mark pulled his swollen member out of Jenny's sweet juicy butt-hole"*, there's already a superfluity of rubbish like that; what moves me much more (and what I think is very deeply arousing) are moments like the one when Mellors tells Connie "You shouldn't cry", moments in our lives when we can cleanse our pain and let someone come so close to our hearts. That's where I am: a sensual world described to the far distant shore of my erotic imagination. A simple theme addressed in a myriad of ways.

*thinking about it, that could work as a comedy pastiche: all the clueless porn you've ever given yourself tennis elbow to in one, digested edition. I'll start work on it just as soon as my physio ends.

Welcome to logodisiac, an anthology of my erotic writing.

Whether you'll consider this admirably erotic or deplorably pornographic, I simply don't care. If you do decide to read on though, I hope you'll find much to arouse you and the special person with whom I'd like to think you'll be reading. Print it out, take it to bed and rub it all over yourselves. And no, you won't have to look like a pornstar to enjoy it either...