HNT: More Strawberries

The edible strawberry bikini...I hope it catches on!

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday, everybody and don't forget to visit the other HNTs at Obasso's blog.

HNT: Strawberry Season, Part 2

Continuing our little celebration of the strawberry.

If you prefer cream on your strawberries then try rolling over the pic with the mouse!




(Don't worry, it really is only cream!)

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday, everybody and don't forget to visit the other HNTs at Obasso's blog.

Back Again

Just a quick note to say that we haven't disappeared off the face of the earth. What was to be a weekend trip to a wedding anniversary turned into an unexpectedly longer stay and we have only just got home again.

I can't reveal the whole story yet but maybe some day it can be told!

Meanwhile, we are back again and raring to blog!

HNT: Strawberry Season

This year there has been an abundance of strawberries and they're particularly plump, ripe and juicy so I thought this setting was particularly appropriate.

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday, everybody!

Don't forget to visit the other HNTs at Obasso's blog.

The Rover's Return

Saturday was the big day. We all (i.e. Heather, Son and myself) trooped down to Copenhagen to fetch Daughter from the airport after her year in Brazil.

As the major point of entry to the country that gave the world such buildings as the Sydney Opera House, the main terminal building at Kastrup Airport, Copenhagen is a design nightmare. It is impossible to walk in a straight line: As soon as you walk in the main doors you have dodge to avoid the queues for train tickets. Further along, past the bottleneck created by the carefully-placed lifts down to the train platforms, you have to weave to left and right to get between queues for the check-in desks on both sides as, coming at you in the opposite direction and equally weaving are the streams of newly arrived passengers. A burger King Franchise and a Starbucks are tacked on as an afterthought and the whole thing is housed in a building no larger than a provincial sports centre. It can be chaos at 6 in the morning. At 6pm on a Saturday afternoon it was pretty much impossible.

Arriving passengers emerge from a twin set of swing doors underneath a large balcony, giving the whole area a gloomy, subterranean atmosphere and despite there being barriers to (ineffectively) keep waiting friends and relatives clear of the doors, there is often such a scrum of people that the arriving passengers have to go around or plough through the middle of them.

The terminal building is held up as an example of the best in Danish architecture but, for a building with so much glass on the outside, there is disappointingly little natural light inside. Like so many public buildings today, it sacrifices function to form and modishness and its main purpose seems to be to glorify the architect rather than to be of any practical utility. Or, as another kindred spirit I found on The Web put it…

’All in all, this is more an overpriced shopping mall with some planes than an airport to help with convenient and efficient travel. Avoid it if you can’




The main concourse at Kastrup airport on a quiet day. Picture taken from the balcony over the arrivals cavern. The way out is straight ahead, just where the building tapers into the lift shafts.


Oh yes, and the baggage handling system is crap. On the last three times I have been through Kastrup I have been delayed because of some problem or other with the baggage handling. Saturday was no exception

Daughter’s journey from Brazil took somewhat over 24 hours, including a 4-hour layover in São Paulo and a SIX hour layover in Frankfurt. To add insult to injury, the Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt to Copenhagen was delayed and it took the baggage a full forty minutes to be unloaded and delivered. According to Daughter, everyone was waiting at the baggage reclaim when suddenly all the carousels stopped at once. For a flight that should have landed at 17.55, we were finally away just after seven.


Kastrup airport arrivals cavern

We were curious (and not a little apprehensive) to see how her year away might have changed her, but right from the moment she finally emerged through the swing doors it was obvious it was the same Daughter we know and love. She was even wearing an 25-year-old t-shirt of mine which I got from the Great Western Arms pub in Aynho, that she had commandeered a couple of years ago, it being too small for me.

She was slimmer than when she had left: she’d been eating an awful lot of fresh fruit, but she wasn’t as tanned as I had imagined She explained that she had been living in the south of the country and it is winter there at the moment. Her language was a little different. Odd words of Portugese slipped into the conversation without her being aware of it. Her English had suffered from having spent a year where her two best friends were from Texas and New York City, and a definite transatlantic twang was detectable, but we’ll soon get that out of her.

We didn’t know how she was going to be after her long journey, suddenly being transplanted from one world to quite another: Hyper, depressed, sleepy maybe. But she was just…her. She was a little bit like a tourist at first, taking pictures of everything, and lots of us all together, and as we drove towards the ferry, through little towns and villages she comented: ” Danish houses – they’re just so…Danish! No fences around them, no barbed wire, no gates or security guards. And where are all the dogs? In Brazil there are dogs roaming the streets wherever you look”.

We finally got home around midnight, having made a small detour to pick up her best friend who we took back for a sleepover. On the Sunday we were going to Heather’s parents’ summerhouse because pretty much the whole family would be there to celebrate Heather’s mother’s birthday. Late in the afternoon she got a text from an old schoolfriend that they were holding a beach party in a town about 20 miles away, so we drove her and her friend up there, and picked them up again at 2 am. Yesterday she went into the city to hang out with another old schoolfriend and stay the night there. I’m assuming we’ll see her today but early tomorrow morning we are driving her to the city railway station and she is off for over a week at a huge international scout camp in the south of the country.

So things are pretty much back to the way they were before she left. Our daughter is home, but never at home!

Sugasm #169

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #170? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Clothespin Communion “Surrender to the sensation.”

Remembering the Pain “And it really was that bad.”

Short And Sweet “Why don’t you turn over”

Sugasm Editor
Fetish Fridays: Financial Submission

Editor’s Choice
Belonging

More SugasmJoin the Sugasm

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Absence
Evey Can Haz?
The Ghost of Sex Toys Past (Part One of Three)
“Boy, Girl, or In-between?” Princess Frida’s Fabulous Talk, and My Thoughts
“Work” Confession #297

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Busty beauty Jenny McClain
Flash Spanking Videos
Leighton Meester Sex Tape
Pearls
Thrashed on their bared buttocks
Waiting for Tonight

Sex Humor
Fat Sex and Why It’s Good

BDSM & Fetish
Don’t Have Mercy on Me, Baby
Formalities, and, on second thought, greetings
The Going Away Present
He gave them pain like balm, and they begged him for it
High School Bully Part 3
Home Alone?
Mollena Williams added to 100 Divas
A Night In Bondage
Under instruction
The war of the sexes

Sex Poetry
At the movies….

News, Reviews & Interviews
The Independent lists “the ten best sex toys.” I fly into a rage.
Take Me Out to the Sapphic Sex Romp
Vibratex Pandora
The Wily Old Crocodile: An Interview with Eosuchus

Sex Advice
Anal Sex for Beginners
New At Sex Is Magazine: Foods That Enhance Your Sex Drive
Q&A with Dr.Ruthie - Asking for Better Sex
Starting At The Bottom: An Intro to Anal Play, Part 2

Erotic Writing & Experiences
Amber gives me a blowjob..in person!
From Behind
Its Morning…(The Last Time)
Just fucking.
A Matter of Taste
May i feel said he
New Man at the Lesbos Palace
The Problem with Thongs
The Raise
Randy: the new big cock
Stranger Fuck & Plough
Whore, Adulteress, Sinner
You can leave your hat on

HNT: Two's Company

Following on from last week's Half Nekkid Thursday, I decided to post this picture in case those of you out there lusting after a glimpse of F.C.'s bod feel they are getting a bum deal.


Happy HNT everybody!

I Can't Get No Contraception - Part 3

I can’t remember the first time I actually bought condoms, but it may well have been during our second university year, 1978. Most likely at Boots The Chemist on Kentish Town Road. It was a bitterly cold winter that year and we were living in a miserable bedsit near Tufnell Park. There was a bed, a sofa, a tiny table with two chairs and a gas fire on a meter that had to be fed constantly with coins. And that was it. We had to buy a desk on Brick Lane market so that we could write coursework assignments. The bathroom was down the hall and shared with about half a dozen inmates. The hot water for the shower was supplied from a water heater designed for a wash basin. We had season tickets for The Tube so we tended to spend weekends and evenings either using the university facilities (the showers at the uni. swimming baths were always hot) or mooching round the West End but inevitably we would spend a lot of time in our sparse, cold little bedsit tucked up in bed to keep warm with each other and Capital Radio for company.

I had always resisted using condoms; maybe it was a misplaces guilt thing or maybe I was influenced by talk that it was like ‘picking your nose with gloves on’ but, in the short term, if I wanted more out of our lovemaking than emptying my load over Heather’s stomach every time I realised that I was going to have to bow to the inevitable.

And of course it was a liberating experience. We fucked as never before, free from concerns about safe periods or pulling out in time, and from the nagging worry of unwanted pregnancy.

Until...

I remember the event very clearly. It was a Saturday evening, round about tea time. We had been out west most of the afternoon and, as usual, were tucked up in bed to keep warm. I was hard and horny as hell; I think we both were really. I was treating Heather to a marathon fucking session, really giving her everything I had. Certainly the condoms had the effect of dulling sensations, so I had to work harder and longer for my orgasms. Maybe Heather considered this an advantage, I don’t know. On this particular occasion I was going at her harder and longer than usual and just as I finally came, I noticed a new and unusual sensation that I couldn’t quite place. It was only after I pulled out that I realised that all that was left of the condom was a rubber ring round my cock. We managed to retrieve a few more fragments but, there being no such thing as a ‘morning after’ pill in those days all we could do was hope we hadn’t caused a pregnancy.

Fortunately, Heather’s period came round right on schedule and we both breathed a sigh of relief, but it wasn’t long afterwards that Heather trotted up to the university clinic to see about being prescribed oral contraceptives.

Heat

This is the weather we have been dreaming off all through the long, dark, dreary winter. Suddenly we are in the middle of a heatwave, with temperatures of 80 in the shade. As soon as we could get away from the business last night we headed for the summerhouse and went for our first swim of the year in the sea.. Afterwards we just sat outside and had cold beer and hot dogs as the sun slowly went down. It would have been nice to have stayed the night there; it is much cooler on the coast and our house in the town is hot and airless in summer; but we had to get back.

I was undressed and sitting on my side of the bed. When Heather came in she sat down on her side to undress and I flopped onto my back so that I could watch her. Then she flopped back as well so that we ended up lying head-to toe. She made a determined grab for my cock and I tried to part her legs but she kept them firmly together.

”Too soon” She whispered. ” I want you to play with some other bits first”

So I fondled her bum and reached out for her breasts. I pinched one of her nipples and squeezed. She pinched one of mine and squeezed back harder. It became a contest as to who would scream first, a contest I knew I would lose, and all the while she continued to savage my cock. It was obvious she wanted to be in charge for a change.

She rolled me onto my back and climbed aboard, impaling herself on my aching cock and then leaning forward to tantalise me by swinging her full, pendulous breasts in my face. I strained upwards, sticking my tongue out as far as I could in an attempt to brush a passing nipple as it swung within range. During these gyrations she must have hit a sweet spot because suddenly, from playing games, she seemed to become deadly serious. She leaned forward over my head to grab the rail at the foot of the bed. Little gasps came more frequently as she swivelled and rocked her pelvis, all I could do was lie there passively as she herself sought out the most satisfying movements and positions. I couldn’t really tell what was going on but I imagined that was only just penetrating her and that she was contriving to rub her clit on my pubic bone.

She very nearly came in that position, but not quite. Fatigue began to set in and she threw herself back so that she was lying on top of my legs and treating me to a view of my cock disappearing inside her. I pressed a wetted thumb onto her clit and massaged it while she still slid back and forth onto me. I came first, but only by a fraction of a second; my grunts and the rythmic pulsing of my cock pumping my seed deep into her was enough to push her over the edge and I could feel her contracting on me even as I was still filling her with the last drops.

This, for us, is a rare occurrence and was deeply satisfying. We fell asleep on the bare sheet, uncovered and naked in the sweltering heat. I’m clearly going to have to insist Heather takes the role of predator more often.

HNT: Intense

'I'm gonna get you in my tent, tent, tent tent, tent
Where we can both experiment, ment, ment, ment, ment...'

The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band - Tent Lyrics-Vivian Stanshall



Happy Half Nekkid Thursday everybody!