Jennifer emailed me on Tuesday:

 

Hi

Deviant Dining is this Thursday.

I am wondering if you would like to be one of a few people I have asked to do live erotic nude readings through dinner. 

You would be expected to arrive coiffed in an alluring way, then once people start eating randomly each person asked to do so will stand up and walk over to the bondage chair.  There you will slowly take off your clothes, and sit down and do a reading of a piece of erotica that will be stimulating for all listening.  The piece should be 3-5 minutes long and you would need to find your own piece/s to read.  Self written, inter-net find, from a book etc.
You could strip down to the nude, or to a nice pair of silky panties and stockings. 

Are you up for this?
Let me know.

Jennifer

 

I said yes and immediately started fretting. Not about what I would wear…I had a brand new pair of very pretty knickers that I was saving for a Lounge event. That along with garter and black stockings is what I planned to strip down to and I wasn’t particularly concerned about that part of it.

 

I was worried about what I would read and how it would be received.  A lot of what is written here is anecdotal and I wanted to tell a story not just relate a sexy occurrence or fantasy. I hadn’t realized it before, but most of my erotic fiction is written from the female point of view. That’s just fine when the audience is reading the story themselves. Hopefully it’s written well enough that they hear and see the female protagonist. But if the audience is sitting in front of me…I just didn’t think pretty knickers would be enough to make a feminine character believable. In the end I picked this poem and this short story, both written from a male point of view.

 

I have a tendency to shake and the more stressed I am, the shakier I get. I was the second reader of the night and by the time I got undressed, I was having a hard time holding the paper still enough to read. I haven’t had much public speaking experience. I toasted that bride and this bride and made them both cry. Besides that, no, not much.

 

It’s a funny thing…this blog is quite popular so I knew that a lot of people had read the pieces I’d chosen. I’d had nice comments about them so I guess I knew that people liked them, but still I was really nervous about putting my voice to my words.

 

So, how did it go? Well, nobody boo’d or threw things at me. Is that what I was worried would happen? No, I guess not. I wasn’t expecting the applause and all the really nice things people said to me. It felt good.

 

When I got home from work the next morning there was a tweet from Jennifer:

You were fucking amazing this evening – I’m really proud of you!

 

I like Jennifer. She makes me happy.

 

Cheers,

♀ & sss

It feels like a Chet Baker kind of V-Day this year…

 

 

I couldn’t decide so posted them both. Do you have a preference?

 

*If you start the instrumental version 5 seconds before the other, they actually match up quite well. It’s kind of a cool effect

 

Earlier this week, our friend C sent us a poem that her 17 yr old daughter wrote. I wasn’t going to post it here, but that was then and this is now and the darkness of it fits my mood.

 

 Valentine Poem

 

 

Valentine’s Day sure is dandy

It’s chock-full of heartbreak and candy!

Bleeding love and chocolate cremes

Strawberry swirls and ruined dreams

Those little chalky hearts that make your teeth crack

Long stemmed roses, and a knife in the back

The air is full of sweet coconut and fear

(I’m pretty happy I’m single this year.)

 

 

Please don’t think that I want to be single. It’s just been a tough week and I’m feeling like ummm just not very romantic.

 

Cheers,

 

sss

Dedicated to my wonderful husband this Valentine’s Day

 Certain that our love will never die
The world around us sees no shy

 

As SSS unfolds so wide,

Together we will ride the tide

 

As I reflect on the past eight years
I am overwhelmed with joyful tears

 

Oh how I love you, how can this be

It’s so amazing how you watch over me

 

Five years of marriage and still going strong
In three more years, a heartier bond

 

Eight magnificent years
With scanty tears

The closer, we are to be

In many ways has set us free

 

You do so much, expecting little in return
I am unsure when, it’s my turn

 

Eight more years will come and go
Beside one another, this I know

 

As the clock strikes eight

No longer seeing straight

I’ll send you off with a smile on your face

 

Eight twist and turns is where you’ll be

Soon to return gleefully to me

 

As we grow old, I hope you see

What an amazing husband you are to me

 

With SSS always there

You sometimes feel, it’s unfair

 

Eight more years will come and go

Twenty four, will be full

Many endeavours, oh have we grown

Minimizing their doubt that was shown

 

Since the day we said “I do”
My eyes have sparkled true to you

 

 

 

Happy Valentine’s Day

I will love you FOREVER AND EVER

 This was in my inbox today and I thought I’d post it. With permission from C, of course…

 You know the famous sonnet by Elizabeth Barrett Browning?  “How do I love thee?”  Several years ago I profaned it up a bit.   I did it for a chuckle, but I was actually kinda pleased about how it turned out.  My apologies if you are a fan of Ms. Browning’s work.  

The original:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

MY version:
 
 How do I fuck you? Let me count the ways.
 I fuck you to the depth and width and height
 My legs can reach, the feeling out of sight
 As we move in a dance of ideal grace.
 I fuck you to the level of everyday’s
 Most urgent need, by sun and candle-light.
 I fuck you freely, as we strive for delight;
 I fuck you purely, on my hands and my knees.
 I fuck you with my passion put to use
 To please you, and bring us both release.
 I fuck you with a love that seems to grow
 With every passing day, — I fuck you with my life,
 Smiles, tears, every breath! — and, already you know,
 I shall love you forever, as your wife.

I only have one night off this week and I had planned on getting some writing done after I finished my housework, but I got distracted <listening to poetry>, <looking at post cards>, <reading blogs…and blogs…and more blogs>.  I found <some sexy lingerie>, < some funny porn> and this…

Cheers,

sss

 

Pigtail braids almost

Hide your beautiful nipples

I want you so bad

(more…)

3 poems for ♀ on Robbie Burns Day

A Red, Red Rose

[Hear Red, Red Rose]
1794
Type: Poem

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June:
O my Luve’s like the melodie,
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!
And fare-thee-weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ ’twere ten thousand mile!

——————————————————————————-

My Girl She’s Airy

Fragment
1784
Type: Song
Tune: Black Jock.

My girl she’s airy, she’s buxom and gay;
Her breath is as sweet as the blossoms in May;
A touch of her lips it ravishes quite:
She’s always good natur’d, good humour’d, and free;
She dances, she glances, she smiles upon me;
I never am happy when out of her sight.

————————————————————————————

Thine Am I, My Faithful Fair

1793
Type: Song
Tune: The Quaker’s Wife.

Thine am I, my faithful Fair,
Thine, my lovely Nancy;
Ev’ry pulse along my veins,
Ev’ry roving fancy.
To thy bosom lay my heart,
There to throb and languish;
Tho’ despair had wrung its core,
That would heal its anguish.

Take away those rosy lips,
Rich with balmy treasure;
Turn away thine eyes of love,
Lest I die with pleasure!
What is life when wanting Love?
Night without a morning:
Love’s the cloudless summer sun,
Nature gay adorning.