Return of the Duck Face

Wow.

It’s been a while since I actually wrote a full-on ranty blog. It’s not because I haven’t had anything to rant about – more because I couldn’t be arsed, and am happy to see the daily views ticking over from you pervs reading my erotic stories.

Anyway, sneaking a look over someone’s shoulder earlier today, I was pleased to discover them flicking through a few pics of a rather good looking Facebook friend.

Or she WOULD have been good-looking, except every picture looked like this:

My initial thought was “What in the blue-waffled FK are you doing???”

Had I stumbled onto the promotional manager for the new Zoolander film, trying shit out??

Maybe I was witnessing a rare cancer of the lips, or someone who’d had some kind of -ing accident with an airtight sandwich grill??

No – it seems that the duck face/trout pout trend is still going strong.

A quick look through some other peoples pics showed more of the same.

Now, I know I’m not up with current trends and fashions, so maybe I should give the benefit of the doubt here?

Are there people out there who do find this look attractive??

There must be some reason why women do this in the first place?  I mean, you looked great until you started doing that crazy shit with your mouth!  And I don’t mean THAT crazy shit…

Are you looking at your selfie (with obligatory toilet, Anal Glide or abandoned toddler in the background), and actually seeing something else through your poor, slack (to hide the wrinkles) eyes?

Just SMILE, you knobs!

Maybe I should also categorise this blog under ‘erotica’ so you duck-billed wankers can jerk off to that, too?

Game Of Thrones – Coming from behind!

It wasn’t exactly that I’d been ‘resisting’ watching Game Of Thrones – I just see all these fad series like ‘Breaking Bad’ and ‘Lost’ and my heart sinks.

How the feck am I going to commit to watching 657 episodes FFS?

I barely watch any TV!

Last week I sat down with the wench one night and finally plucked up the will to give it a go.

Unsurprisingly, I do quite like a bit of swordage.  I’m trained in using foil, sabre, broadsword (single, hand and a half and two-handed), and a variety of Japanese pointy stuff.

I was happy to see the little girl using ‘Needle’ as well as all the other hardware!

It had zombie things at the start, followed by lies, betrayal, lots of sex (all doggystyle, for some reason?).

In fact, we watched the first 4 episodes that night, and within a week we’ve ‘done’ all of series 1.

The only thing missing was dragons, and now that’s been addressed, too!

I think it’s safe to say I’m hooked on it.  I’m a bit worried about how fast I’ll go through the other 4 series, and be left with nothing!

Maybe I’ll start ‘Vikings’ next?  Or revisit the 1990s and find the excellent prison drama that was ‘Oz’.

Whatever happens, I just hope that little twat Joffrey gets proper done over!

 

 

 

EROTIC STORY: “Missionary”

EROTIC STORY: “Missionary”

She clasped her hand around him and kissed his lips as he gasped.

He walked her backwards towards the bed as her other hand slid his already open shirt from his shoulders, and gave his jeans that extra shove to drop down to his ankles.

Stepping out of them, he playfully nipped her tongue, lifting her own top over her head, groaning again as her hand wrapped around him again.

He gave a slight push towards the bed, but she resisted, her mouth curling into a playful smile.

Sidestepping sleekly, he pushed his hip against hers, lifting her feet off the floor and throwing her down onto the soft mattress, her amused shriek bouncing off the walls as he quickly straddled her and pinned her arms above her head.

He growled and bit her throat like a werewolf attacking her, and she giggled and writhed beneath him.

Smiling, they kissed again, eyes closed as long moments passed.  Without breaking his lips away, he moved so his legs lay between hers, and she kept her eyes closed tightly to revel in the sensation as his length rested against the wet warmth of her entrance.

He supported most of his weight on one arm, releasing her hands so she was free to wrap her own arms around his back, and he moved his palm over the curve of her hip, and over her buttock.

she squirmed her hips at his touch, feeling her clit rub against the underside of his penis.

He eased his hips forwards, sliding easily and spreading her wetness up her, increasing the pleasure for them both with a long slow motion, before drawing his hips back again so his tip was resting at her just inside her lips.

She dug her nails into his ass, pulling him harder against her as he slowly, torturously repeated the motion several more times.

His supporting arm began to shake – more with the anticipation and pleasure than the effort, and he shifted his weight onto both his elbows, tightly wrapping her in his arms by slightly lifting her back from the bed.

He slid his tip effortlessly inside her, holding it there, throbbing inside her as he kissed her neck – small, fast kisses that made him twitch inside her.

She tried to move her hips and draw him inside her, but he still had her body pinned by his weight, and she clenched tightly around him, loving the feel of him inside her, wanting him deeper, but enjoying his teasing too much.

He eased into her a tiny fraction more, going slowly so he could feel her warmth enveloping him, then pulling back almost all the way out, feeling himself shudder.  She cried out wordlessly as he slid back in, even more slowly this time, but not stopping, sinking as deep inside her as he could, filling her all.

This time holding deep inside her, he ground his hips against hers, rubbing her clit, her hips grinding back up against his rhythmically.

He pulled back slightly, then moved forwards, sliding back and forth whilst always staying deeply with her, moving his hips against hers in semi-circular motions, twisting with each other.

He let out a shuddering sigh as he pulled back, almost out of her, intending to tease her more by stopping, but now getting lost in the moment, she drew him back in, their hands pulling at each other, breath hot against each others cheeks.

They bucked faster against each other, no games left now – just wanting each other, wanting their own pleasure, and knowing that would come from that of the other.

She felt him expand inside her and knew he was about to cum before hearing him cry out, and her nails raked down the skin of his strong back, her legs gripping him, wanting him even closer now, as she fell over the edge herself.

The world was lost to them, and an eternity could have passed before she opened her eyes, his hand was stroking her face as he gazed at her.

His smile and the darkness of his usually bright blue eyes told her all she knew, and all she wanted to know – he was all hers.

And she was forever his…

A Deluge Of Smut

Some of you will be aware of a few ‘erotic’ short stories I wrote a few years ago.

I actually wrote quite a few more of these than you will find on this blog… They were originally on MySpace, and posted each and every week for a day we themed ‘Sex Blog Thursday’.

Everyone else was writing the usual ‘erotic’ crap involving leather masks, spanking, whips, and anal sex with a dead yak.

I got noticed (my rise to MySpace fame!!!) through the masses because I was writing stories about real (vanilla?!) sex – without this kinky crap that seems essential to every other damned ‘erotic’ writer!  And, I guess, being a male doing this stuff was a bit different, too.

The truth is, I knocked one out (the STORIES, you perves!) in under 30 mins in most cases, without any editing or even reading them back.  It worked, loads of you people out there loved them, and life was rosier than a tinted condom.

Looking back at them now is Cringe City.

I’m actually a bit scared to repost them, despite lots of requests, because, well… I was anonymous on MySpace, and my Mom can see this blog linked to me on Facebook now.  And work people.  And real live people who may or may not have featured in some stories.  Umm… yes…

So, in the true spirit of ‘fuck it’, I’m going not look too closely at them, paste them as they are from the old archives, and post most of them again.

I think.

So, err, apologies in advance if you know me in real life, and normal service will resume once the deluge of smut has spooted all over my blog like a pot-bellied Asian guy in glasses at a Bukakke festival.

Enjoy!

My First Ever ‘Real’ Valentines Day (And Why I’m A Rubberhead)

Can you remember your first real Valentines Day – that one where you got something or gave something for the first time?

Our family has never done this crap where your Mum sends you a card.  Aside from hearing the ‘Deliverance’ banjo’s in my head even thinking about that, I suspect it cheapens real love and its meaning, and no doubt turns you into some cold selfish monster, with no appreciation of love from a partner.

Hehehe – how many readers has that lost me then??

Seriously though, the first time…

In the Summer holiday before I started Middle School (which made me 9), I met a girl who lived in my village, and fancied her straight away.  Her Dad raced karts, and she showed me her garage with his kart in – err, that sounds really bad!  Anyway, when I started school, I saw her again, but she was in a different class.  Being young and stupider, I admired her from afar, and never approached her.

A few years later, I finally spoke to her, and it turned out that wasn’t the same girl I’d met before school.  In fact, maybe I dreamed that whole thing, because I never saw a girl near that house again (and I rode past a lot on my bike that Summer!!!).  Spooky, but back to the point we must go:

It was the fourth and final year of Middle School when I finally plucked up some courage.  We were in the same class the year before and also for the fourth year, so I had spoken to her.  I used to piss her off and she’d smack me in the balls – it was true love!

I decided to use my Ninja skills and send her a Valentines Card.

I carefully cut all the letters I needed out of a newspaper, and like some kind of demented kidnapper, used sticky tape (we didn’t have glue) to put them all in an anonymous card.  It was probably something a little like this:

It seemed like a great idea at the time, ok?  It’s only looking back now that I’m surprised she didn’t report me to the Police!!!

I snuck the card into her desk unnoticed, and watched and waited as she discovered it and puzzled over who had sent it.

She didn’t know I had a major crush on her, and my friends knew even less!

Still, later in the day she confronted me with it.  She looked a bit surprised, but really happy with it (bet she’s into bondage and kidnapping fantasies now), and asked me to my face if I’d sent her it.

*groans*

And so I point-blank denied it!!!

I still kick myself for that today!  I was terrified at the thought of admitting that to her, so I didn’t!!!

Maybe she knew, maybe she didn’t… either way, I’m a -ing rubberhead.

A few months later she ended up with someone else at a school disco, and that was my first heartbreak….

A very hard lesson learned, as we went to different high schools, and I never saw her again – apart from one weird psychic dream incident that I saw her after, but was too shocked to speak to her and she never saw me…

7 years later I still thought and dreamed about her.  I like to think that after all that time, it taught me NEVER to sit and say nothing again.

Tell them!!!

Get out there, and send that girl or boy you fancy a Valentines Card – and SIGN IT from you!!!

What have you got to lose?  You’ll regret it if you don’t!

Umm, I wouldn’t recommend doing it in kidnapping style though… although… maybe there’s a great idea there for some ‘holding my heart hostage’ comment…

Hope you all have a great day, and send SOMEONE a card – it’ll make their day!

***Special Note***
The girl concerned in this is now a friend on Facebook.  This blog is actually a repost from a few years ago, and I DID come clean and even gave her the link to this blog!  She said she always suspected it was from me!

Nasty Evil Ninja’s Halloween Blog

You didn’t think I’d let this day pass without bitchslapping it around the back of the head, did you?  You DID?  Shame on you!

I used to like Halloween.  I still do, I guess… but all you fuckers are getting it all WRONG and ruining it!!!

It’s a pagan festival, where in England we all traditionally dress in masks with lanterns and go out and beat Priests and Vicars to death.

OK, so that might not be true, but either way it’s supposed to be scary and fun.

Did you hear that?  SCARY and fun.

Sure, take your kids around to old biddie’s houses and give them heart attacks, and throw a Halloween party, but what in the blue-arsed-baboon FUCK is all this about:

This is your typical Halloween costume these days.  Stupid shit like fairies and Alice-in-fucking-Wonderland and ‘sexy pirates’… fuck what have ANY damned pirates got to do with Halloween???

Ghouls… Werewolves… ok I’ll give you vampires, and they can be sexy, but that’s supposed to be a BY-PRODUCT of the whole vampire thing!  Halloween shouldn’t be about sexy costumes and trying to get laid!  Is it any wonder our kids are all fucking each other from the age of ten with this shit being forced down our (deep) throats?

So we used to dress up as murderous non-sexy creatures and try to extort cash and sweets from people.  We never took our PARENTS out with us!

How the hell are The Big Kids supposed to go out ‘Ghost Busting’* when their parents are stood behind them the whole time?

And when Little Johnny’s string-vested just-out-of-prison Dad is stood glaring at you from the top of your path, you feel strangely inclined to give them lots of money and sweets and a can of Tennant’s Super rather than tell them to Sod Off and slam the door in their face.

Do they still say “TRICK OR TREAT” when you answer the door, or is it just a moody “Give.” these days?  And what’s the ‘trick’?

Getting stabbed by a bunch of 16 year old Chavs with their hoodies up to look like ‘ghosts’?

We’ll probably do the same as last year, and just egg any little bastards that come around from the upper windows of our house, all hopped up on Red Bull and the boiled sweets we’ve bought for ourselves.

Witches… Ghosts… Spiders… Girl Scouts???

Give me a break!  It’s more like Fap-oween!

*Ghost Busting – when the Big Kids take the piss out of your costume, beat you up, and/or take all your money and sweets.  It was ‘fun’.

Porn Is Ruining Our Children

Every so often it flares up in the press and documentaries that the minds (and future sex lives) of our poor innocent children are being ruined by the Evils of pornography.

Getting my knees jerking in unison with theirs, they do have a point.

Almost everyone from a very young age has access to the internet, and even with the parental filters and stuff in place, the chances are a child will still be able to access, or at some point be subjected to a link containing pornography.

If you go to Google and search for porn, you will find it.  Thus, a child may well go online out of curiosity, and potentially have their first experience of sexual arousal whilst watching some slut being raped in the ass and giving a blue waffle and anal gaping.

Religious types have always been banging on about this being terrible, but the fact is that a lot of people’s later sexual preferences will be guided during this early, formative period.

If your first experience of sex is rough gonzo sex videos, there’s every chance that when you finally get to have real sex with a real woman, you will expect to be doing her in the butt, giving her a gagging blowjob, and cumming all over her face at the end.

This will be your view of what sex is, and more importantly, what GOOD sex is.  It will be what you expect to give and receive from sex.  The chances are you and all your mates will chat and laugh about how you fisted someone and then fucked their feet.

To compound this, most parents aren’t too willing to talk about sex, or by the time they do give Little Johnny the ‘Birds & Bees’ talk, he’s already into having threesomes and donkey-punching his girlfriend.

It’s too late.  Porn has ruined your child’s view of sex forever!

Who wants normal vanilla sex, all lovey-dovey and boring?

Hell, even todays erotic fiction (that their parents are reading openly in public – “50 Shades Of Grey” etc) is all about spanking and anal sex!

The future looks grim.  And it looks grim whilst suspended from its nipples in a klyster suit.

All this because porn is so easily available to our kids!

But wait a second!

What is ‘pornography’?

Well, that depends on who you ask.  Some would class a picture of a topless woman as ‘porn’ – some even a woman wearing a bikini.  It could be a video of a loving couple having slow sensuous sex as much as it is a midget sucking off a horse.

Who’s making this distinction?

And following on from that, if your kid is sat there watching ‘anal gape dogging’ porn, it’s most likely because they have specifically gone out and LOOKED for ‘anal gape dogging’ porn!

If you search for, on the other hand, ‘romantic lovers’, can you guess what results you might have returned?  There IS an absolute shitload of ‘nice’ porn out there, showing vanilla acts of sex, possibly between long-term couples who are most definitely both consenting to every act.

So the real problem isn’t porn.  It’s the TYPE of porn that your little shits are deliberately searching for!

And don’t get me wrong – I’d have sought out the nastiest stuff with my mates, too – it’s what kids do.  But I’d have also been able to make the distinction between what is acceptable human behaviour, and what is sick, derogatory, degrading, violent, or not very nice.

Because, you know, I’m not as pigshit thick and completely helpless like all kids today apparently are.  And you’d be hard-pressed to find a way that isn’t the fault of the parents – and not pornography…

EROTIC STORY: “The First Hurdle”

EROTIC STORY: “The First Hurdle”

He’d been trying to decide how long to wait.  And how long he should make her wait.

After a few dates, this was his first time in her house.  She’d cooked, they’d eaten, and now already the second film of the night was playing.

And of course there was the vodka.

Deciding to have a play and see what the reaction was, he idly traced his fingertip across the length of her shoulders as they sat together on the couch.

Her submissive purr told him all he needed to know, and as he ran his fingers up her neck and into her hair, her head lolled against his hand and her shiver of pleasure was plain.

He smiled in the dimmed light, lightly moving his other hand into action on her thigh.

She turned to him, no smile on her lips – just hunger in her eyes, and there wasn’t even an instant in which to consider having their first real kiss.  It was gentle but needful, embracing each other strongly as they twisted to get more of their bodies to touch.

The kiss broke and his fingers still massaged the back of her head, and between her moans her hot lips were against the side of his neck, then back on his lips again.

As she found how hard he already was, he moved his own hands over her corseted top, feeling her soft, firm breasts through the material and needing to feel more.

He pulled her body close to his, reaching around her back to the corseting.  Biting her neck softly, he pulled at the ties.

“Not like that…” she panted, pulling back and showing him the hooked fasteners at the sides.

He smiled again, somewhat disappointed to have the new challenge of undoing a corset denied, kissing her as he popped open the fasteners the easy way.

He was kissing down her collarbone even as she discarded the top, his warm hands cupping her as he kissed her breasts slowly and softly.

She moved to kneel on the coach facing him, pulling off his top as if in trade, and she didn’t stop him as he unbuttoned her jeans and slipped a hand inside.

She lifted his face to kiss him again as his fingers slid over her wetness, and he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her.  Slickened by her own wetness, her whole body sagged as he slowly ran a finger over her clit for the first time, and time disappeared for both of them, her gasp as her tightness clamped down around his fingers bringing out a moan of pleasure from him.

Somehow he was naked as she pushed him back into the seat, straddling him as she steadily worked her had rhythmically up his length, before guiding his tip inside her.

He bit her lower lip as she eased down slowly, a cry escaping them both as she slowly inched over him.

She felt so tight he wondered briefly if this would work, but their slickness made sure there was anything but pain as she took his whole length inside her, nails clawing at his shoulders.

They kissed hard, both gasping as she drew herself up his length, eager to resume the kiss, but unable to ignore their ecstasy.

She rode him like that for a long time, changing pace and matching each other easily – both in tune with each other as if they’d done this a thousand times.

He swirled his tongue over her hard nipples, her whole body shaking now as she moved on him steadily.

“I’m gonna cum…” she breathed against his ear, and he came the moment her hands scrabbled at his back, both lost to each other as they gripped each other as if to stop from floating off.

She kept him inside her, and they both calmed their breathing, kissing more tenderly now.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to?”  She said, much to his amusement.

A thunderstorm had started outside, and only now did they notice as the roar shook the window panes.

The first hurdle was passed, and they held each other, both knowing they’d made the right choice with each other at last.

And now they could really begin…

My First Ever ‘Real’ Valentines Day (And Why I’m A Rubberhead)

Can you remember your first real Valentines Day – that one where you got something or gave something for the first time?

Our family has never done this crap where your Mum sends you a card.  Aside from hearing the ‘Deliverance’ banjo’s in my head even thinking about that, I suspect it cheapens real love and its meaning, and no doubt turns you into some cold selfish monster, with no appreciation of love from a partner.

Hehehe – how many readers has that lost me then??

Seriously though, the first time…

In the Summer holiday before I started Middle School (which made me 9), I met a girl who lived in my village, and fancied her straight away.  Her Dad raced karts, and she showed me her garage with his kart in – err, that sounds really bad!  Anyway, when I started school, I saw her again, but she was in a different class.  Being young and stupider, I admired her from afar, and never approached her.

A few years later, I finally spoke to her, and it turned out that wasn’t the same girl I’d met before school.  In fact, maybe I dreamed that whole thing, because I never saw a girl near that house again (and I rode past a lot on my bike that Summer!!!).  Spooky, but back to the point we must go:

It was the fourth and final year of Middle School when I finally plucked up some courage.  We were in the same class the year before and also for the fourth year, so I had spoken to her.  I used to piss her off and she’d smack me in the balls – it was true love!

I decided to use my Ninja skills and send her a Valentines Card.

I carefully cut all the letters I needed out of a newspaper, and like some kind of demented kidnapper, used sticky tape (we didn’t have glue) to put them all in an anonymous card.  It was probably something a little like this:

It seemed like a great idea at the time, ok?  It’s only looking back now that I’m surprised she didn’t report me to the Police!!!

I snuck the card into her desk unnoticed, and watched and waited as she discovered it and puzzled over who had sent it.

She didn’t know I had a major crush on her, and my friends knew even less!

Still, later in the day she confronted me with it.  She looked a bit surprised, but really happy with it (bet she’s into bondage and kidnapping fantasies now), and asked me to my face if I’d sent her it.

*groans*

And so I point-blank denied it!!!

I still kick myself for that today!  I was terrified at the thought of admitting that to her, so I didn’t!!!

Maybe she knew, maybe she didn’t… either way, I’m a -ing rubberhead.

A few months later she ended up with someone else at a school disco, and that was my first heartbreak….

A very hard lesson learned, as we went to different high schools, and I never saw her again – apart from one weird psychic dream incident that I saw her after, but was too shocked to speak to her and she never saw me…

7 years later I still thought and dreamed about her.  I like to think that after all that time, it taught me NEVER to sit and say nothing again.

Tell them!!!

Get out there, and send that girl or boy you fancy a Valentines Card – and SIGN IT from you!!!

What have you got to lose?  You’ll regret it if you don’t!

Umm, I wouldn’t recommend doing it in kidnapping style though… although… maybe there’s a great idea there for some ‘holding my heart hostage’ comment…

Hope you all have a great day, and send SOMEONE a card – it’ll make their day!

***Special Note***
The girl concerned in this is now a friend on Facebook.  This blog is actually a repost from a few years ago, and I DID come clean and even gave her the link to this blog!  She said she always suspected it was from me!

The Rush

Anyone who knows me will say that I’m a pretty laid-back person.  Some would say I’m so laid-back you can actually see the soles of my shoes as I’m walking.

In direct contrast to this, my interests (and some of my jobs!) have always involved extreme levels of intensity.

For the most part, I get involved in an activity and it totally consumes me.  I don’t mind not being the best at what I do – but I will put every part of my soul into finding out just how well I can do something!  Then, I’ll move onto the next thing…

Even from when I was an early teen, I found that I got a very intense rush from writing poems and stories.  The experience was almost like being sick – scribbling out the words all at once and then sitting back feeling relief.  Calm.

The band came next.  Playing the bass or taking on vocal duties for a band is pretty extreme – but the buzz you get from stepping onto a stage in front of people can completely overwhelm some people.  I found I thrived on it!

And not just folk music, of course – my choice was thrash, death metal, grindcore – anything fast and loud!

I never had a massive interest in sports at school until I got to do things my way.

None of the pansy-assed school soccer or rugby – I got out there and joined a full kit US Football team, and let my psychosis carry me through!

People say US Football is all stop-starty – but I bet they’ve never played it.  In the time the ball isn’t actually moving, before that whistle blows, the anticipation is immense.

You’re about to smash your way through people who will try to seriously injure you – and everyone is wearing bloody armour so they can hit each other even harder!  If you think THAT is ‘a bit boring’ then you’re a -ing idiot!

Next came the clubbing days.  Not seals – the music type.  Hard as bastardy techno and trance… Dancing like a loon through the night to it…

Each thing seeemd to be getting more extreme – more intense.

Then I bought a motorbike – not for a rush, but just to get me to work.

If only I would have known years before… I still say my bike is the best thing I’ve ever bought in my life.

I guess looking back it’s no surprise I’d get into sportsbikes, where I can experience 1000hp per tonne blasting me to 60mph in under 3 seconds, and stupid lean angles as I scrape my knees on the tarmac at over 100mph!

Not many would have pegged me for getting a cruiser motorcycle and plodding around on it just for the image!  Give me the foetal position at 190mph any day!

Most of these previous things apart from bikes have fallen by the wayside now.  I do still demonstrate martial arts in almost every aspect of my life (and a lot of those activities above!), but I think even that peaked a few years back when I was sparring with friends for hours every single night preparing for a no holds barred tournament.  Now I still learn new techniques, but hardly do any proper training – so you can bet I’m weak and slow compared to how I was.

The bike thing is still going strong, and earlier this week I had this arrive on my doorstep:

MSA ARDS National B Racing License

That’s my car racing license!

For the last few months I’ve been totally immersing myself in the Skip Barber race manual learning ungodly amounts of stuff about race car physics and techniques, so the intensity for driving racing cars has already hit me.

Just wait until I slide myself into that single seater for the first time, and we’ll see what kind of rush I get from this one.

The way I see it – if you’re not constantly chasing that rush, you’re doing it wrong!