Beach House Living

“A beach house isn’t just real estate. It’s a state of mind.”

Douglas Adams

I have spent the last three weekends in three different beach houses. In fact, in the last 16 days I’ve only spent two days away from the seaside. It has been glorious. From exuberant weddings to much-needed solo time to hanging out with family, it’s been a restful and restorative series of June weekends. I left London dog tired; I return energised for a huge new work project and excited about a summer of socialising. Yes, I definitely  recommend the calm peace of the beach house state of mind.

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Sinful Sunday

Elust 95

Elust 95 Header
Photo courtesy of A to Sub Bee

Welcome to Elust 95

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #96 Start with the rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Size Matters

Driven to Distraction

Under the Sea

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

My London Bridge

A Kind Touch

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Organised Orgasms

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts and Advice on Kink and Fetish

The Story of O (4) – Tears
Emotions and negotiations
Jeans genie

Erotic Fiction

crawling
Displayed & Defeated
Hangover Hunger
Broken to Be.
A Tarot Reading
Maddie’s virginity (last hours)

Erotic Non-Fiction

Spanking Miss S
Greedy Girls
Meet “Richard”
PHOTOGRAPHIC STIMULATION

Poetry

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Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

When you know “I’m in love”

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Cocks ‘n’ cunts

 

 

Elust 88

In the sand dunes 

On Friday I took a walk along the South West Coastal Path from where I was staying to an area of sand dunes that I’d read were popular with naked sunbathers. It was a long and occasionally precarious walk which didn’t always play that well with my fear of heights and vertigo; at one point I was stuck rigid to the spot with the cliff dropping away to my left, unable to move until a couple appeared from the opposite direct and pride forced me to take a deep breath and move on. 

But when I got to the beach and found my hidden corner of the sand dunes the view made it all seem worthwhile. It was my first naked sunbathing experience away from my own garden and I’m sure it won’t be my last. I did get the train back though!

Sinful Sunday

My London Bridge

My train from the suburbs arrives into London Bridge. At the time he was working just over the river. It’s a hot July day and I’m not really concentrating. My phone pings.

Fancy sucking my cock?”

“I’ll get the next train.”

“I’ll see you in The Vintry”

An hour later I’m walking back across the bridge to get the train home. A man double takes as I dip my fingers into my cleavage and lick the spunk from them.

I giggle and text him.

“That’s a really hot message! That was really hot.”

Forty minutes later I’m back at my desk.

I’ve thought about that every single time I’ve crossed London Bridge since. That’s my London Bridge memory. It’ll always be my London Bridge memory.

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Wet

I’ve spent a lot of time outside these last couple of weeks. My step count is *awesome*! I’ve been stopped by strangers telling me they’ve always voted Tory but are switching to Labour. I’ve discovered that a remarkable number of people leave their front doors open, even in London. And I’ve learnt that as many letterboxes eat your fingers as did when I delivered newspapers three decades ago! 

I’ve enjoyed sun and not enjoyed humidity. And I’ve been caught in torrential downpours; yesterday not even my underwear stayed dry when I got caught in a storm. I may not be naked, but I’m wet and right now campaigning is the sexiest thing I could be doing.

Sinful Sunday

Concentration

I’ve written before about the quandary as a body positivity blogger of posting photos of the bits I love and viewpoints from which I know I look great, versus focusing honestly on the bits I’m not always that happy with. Do we focus on what make us feel fabulous or accept all of it? I usually opt for the former. It’s rare for you to ever see a shot of my big belly or differently shaped and not very pert breasts.

IMG_8795 (3)A few months back I was photographing Exhibit A for his Mapplethorpe homage. After shooting the image we ultimately chose (this one using an old Box Brownie) we tried a couple of shots with him holding my current Canon camera. It didn’t work half as well as the image with the old camera but what did come out of it was the shot below. I didn’t realise that he was photographing me with my camera as I photographed him with my iPhone. And,  strangely, I love the resulting image – rolls and all! I love that I’m completely unaware of my posture and not tugging my shoulders back or sitting up straight to reduce the appearance of my belly. I love the look of concentration in my eyes. And I love that unbeknown to me my complete comfort and contentment in that moment was being captured.

Sinful Sunday