Tag Archives | oral sex

Finding Words

‘But Herbert, that’s three nights in a row!’

Not that I’m complaining or anything. In fact, I’m quite delighted. There’s me worrying that our sex life would nose-dive when the seductions finished, but the reverse seems to be true. Never once did we spontaneously do it three times in a weekend.

‘Well,’ H grins, ‘I’ve been reading a book with quite a lot of sex in it.’

Herbert has just finished reading my draft of The 52 Seductions. The only bit he really objects to is where I speculate that I would have made less fuss about the hot candle wax (Herbert: ‘Would you buffalo!’). Apart from that, he declares himself, ‘quite chuffed really.’

Even so, I thought he’d be the last person to be turned on by it. Surely reading about your own sexual performance has erection-shrivelling potential? But then, that’s not where H’s interest seems to lie.

What he’s really enjoying is reading my point of view. I hadn’t realised I was so mysterious to him. Having spent the last year discussing the intricacies of my sexual response with anyone who happens across this page, it didn’t occur to me that Herbert would be the last to know.

But, suddenly, he’s relieved. ‘I wasn’t sure if you enjoyed certain things, or not,’ he says. ‘It’s sometimes hard to tell.’

The odd thing is, I often assume that he knows more than I do. Only last night, he told me that he can feel the echoes of my orgasm long before I do, a sequence of twitches and spasms that ‘let me know you’re on the home straight.’

‘Your clitoris,’ he says, ‘dances.’

‘Really?’ I’m genuinely astonished. I just don’t get to see it from that angle. ‘In what way?’

He holds a finger in the air, and mimes a jerky tremble. ‘Wow,’ I say.

‘Do I do anything like that?’

I think for a while. ‘No. Sorry.’

‘I didn’t think so.’ He looks disappointed. I consider telling him about an ex-boyfriend whose penis let off a high-pitched squeak in the moments before ejaculation, but I think better of it.

It is somewhat shamefacedly that I admit that we’re finally developing a language for sex after the seductions are finished. Reading my words has loosened Herbert’s tongue. He’s full of new-minted questions about what sex feels like to me from the inside. And he’s also full of newly-articulated ideas about what he’d like to do next.

On Saturday night, for example, he presses a finger to his lips. ‘I think I’d like you to start by crouching over my face,’ he says.

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Xmas Special Seduction – Gift Wrapped

Christmas is less erotic than it should be, really. Yes, there are roaring fires and party dresses and bank holidays; but there’s also all that rushing around and indigestion to contend with. Not to mention the presence of one’s family at every turn.

This year, I decide to get in before the rush starts. After dinner on Tuesday evening, I retire to the bedroom to gift-wrap myself for Herbert.

I will start by saying that gift-wrapping oneself is not as simple as it sounds. I begin by sticking a little sparky rosette to each nipple, which is very fetching, and then a larger one to my pudenda. Then, I lay on the bed and begin to sellotape holly-sprigged paper around my legs, until I realise that I’ve forgotten a key ingredient: the Toblerone.

Now, I would like to state clearly at this point that I am using a small Toblerone here, and not one of the enormous prisms that you used to get in your Christmas stocking. I unwrap it, insert it into my vagina, and recommence my efforts with the wrapping paper.

Immediately, I feel the Toblerone snap in half. Okay, I think, I’m sure I’ll be able to get it out again. An image flashes into my head in which I am trying to explain to a casualty doctor how a Toblerone ended up there. I reach down for a reassuring check, and am surprised to find that the Toblerone is worryingly soft.

Yes, Betty, chocolate melts. I knew this, obviously, but I just didn’t think it would melt that quickly. Well, I think, there’s only one way it’ll come out now. I redouble my self-wrapping efforts. This is less easy than it sounds after you’ve got past your knees, particularly if you’re moving rather gingerly due to a rapidly-melting Toblerone. From my hips upward, I just tuck the paper around me and hope for the best, leaving my decorated nipples peeping out over the top. Then, I put on my Santa-girl hat (complete with two white plaits) and text Herbert to come upstairs.

What, now? he replies.

Yes, now!

Hang on, I’ll just grab another glass of wine.

I want to text back to encourage him to run up the stairs as quickly as possible to salvage the remains of the Toblerone, but I fear that this would add a sour tone to the offer I’m making. In any case, he doesn’t take long. He knocks on the door, opens it, and then stares at me for a few seconds.

‘I’ve gift-wrapped myself for you,’ I say. ‘And there’s a chocolate surprise somewhere too. But it’s melting.’

He stares at me some more. ‘I like the festive nipple tassles.’

‘Just hurry up and find the chocolate!’

Herbert begins to unwrap with great gusto. I open my legs, and say, ‘Can you see it?’

‘No, it’s melted away altogether. It looks a little bit like you’ve shat yourself.’

‘Damn! Would you just start eating it please? I’m worried I’ll get some kind of an infection.’ H dips a finger rather gingerly into the chocolate and tastes it, just to reassure himself, before putting his head down and licking it delicately.

I’m going to need a bit more effort than that, I think. I dip a finger down there myself, and suck the chocolate from it.

‘Bloody hell, I’d forgotten the nougat bits!’ I say.

‘Mmmm,’ says H, ‘that’s the best bit.’

‘Not in this context.’ I excavate more of the chocolate from my vagina and chew on what emerges. I swear I’m already feeling the beginnings of cystitis. Or thrush. Whatever: it burns. ‘I just didn’t realise I was so hot inside,’ I say.

‘I did. You should have asked me.’

‘Not helpful.’

‘Look, do you want to stop and get in a bath?’

I decline with the sad eyes of a martyr, and set about employing every trick in my armoury to bring Herbert to orgasm as quickly as possible.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Don’t Do Anything

I Wouldn’t Do


Thanks to English Thorn for suggesting this seduction (though it’s a bit lame for her tastes!)

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