There is more to lesbian sex than strap-ons!

Since I announced oh-so-happily that I was in a relationship with (and am now married to) a woman, I cannot tell you the amount of times a discussion about sex or sexuality has led to me being asked (sometimes shyly, sometimes very curiously, always assumptively) "How many strap-ons do you own?"

The simple answer?  None.

Am I against strap-ons?  No!  I think they are a very awesome invention, and completely understand why some people (men, women, gay, straight, everything in between) rave about them; they are just something my wife and I have never felt the need to experiment with in the bedroom... or anywhere else!

Personally, I think part of the reason people presume strap-ons play a part in the sex life of all women who are in a same sex relationship, is because most people associate sex with penetration of the vagina - generally by a phallus - therefore, two women can't have sex unless there is an artificial penis involved. Right?

Wrong.

I prefer to define sex as being one person giving another person sexual pleasure, whether it is through penetrative penis-in-vagina sex, oral sex, anal sex, the use of hands, the use of fingers, the use of the mouth and tongue, the use of sex toys... anything that gives pleasure, really. 

So, if we aren't spending every second of our private time wandering around wearing a strap-on so we are prepared for sex when the mood strikes, how exactly do we have sex?


Naturally there is a strong element of foreplay - but I think that should be part of sex regardless of how and who you have sex with!  It makes sex all the more exciting and explosive, and there is something special about the intimacy that comes with foreplay!  Kissing, touching and teasing is all part of the build up, and I guess for those of us who DON'T have penis-in-vagina sex, the transition from foreplay to sex isn't quite as defined or obvious.

Getting down to 'business', our mood really dictates exactly how we have sex.  That is something I love about being married to a woman, neither of us view any form of sexual activity as being the 'proper' or 'real' way to have sex.  I am not saying that all male/female relationships are like that either, but I know from my own experiences having sex with men, that penetrative sex is what is considered 'proper'/'real'.  I don't think it's a conscious belief either, it's just how we are programmed!  
Like I said, our mood dictates how we have sex.  Both of us have particular 'skills' when it comes to pleasuring the other person.  My wife is A-MAZ-ING when it comes to using her fingers... seriously, she puts me into an almost coma-like state by the time she is finished with me!  I need a lot of clitoral stimulation, so most of the time what she does is external... not to say I don't love the internal stimulation as well!

I, on the other hand, seem to have 'mad skills' (as she puts it) in the oral sex department.  I enjoy listening to her getting closer and closer to orgasm, I love hearing the moans and cries, the gasps when I do something that feels particularly good.  It might sound silly, but having always suffered from low-self esteem, I get a surprising boost when I bring her to orgasm and know that I have made her feel amazing... it's like FINALLY I'm good at something!

I know I mentioned that sex doesn't necessarily mean vaginal penetration, but I am in no way denying that penetration feels FABULOUS.  We have a lovely little collection of toys, including vibrators.  Regardless of how broad the definition of sex is, I can't pretend that there are times that I don't want the extra stimulation that can only be provided by vaginal penetration... sometimes you NEED that pounding, the internal friction, the sensation of all those little hot spots deep inside being triggered.

I tend to roll my eyes when I hear a comment along the lines of 'if lesbians don't have sex with men, why do they use vibrators'.  I think in most cases, a vibrator (or dildo) is used because it FEELS GOOD, and not because it is a latex/glass/silicone/wooden representation of a penis.  The penis aspect isn't what makes someone want to use a vibrator/dildo... it is the pleasure it can provide.  I love that the newer lines of vibrators and dildos coming out aren't all created to look like a penis.  I think it's a step in the right direction as far as acknowledging sex isn't just penis-in-vagina.

I think part of why we haven't entertained the idea of adding a strap-on to our collection, is related to the fact that FOR US, we both feel like sex is something that should be equal.  Neither of us like the idea of there being a dominant and a submissive; I guess that FOR US the use of a strap-on equates to someone taking on a dominant role in the bedroom.

**** I want to clarify that while the dominant/submissive roles aren't part of our relationship, I acknowledge and very willingly accept that for some people it is a large part of their relationship, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.  It just isn't for us.

(Well.  Most of the time.  I do enjoy being tied up and teased... and she does enjoy being spanked... but that's a whole other post, for a whole other day)

I was planning to discuss one of our favourite sex toys - one which may surprise you - but this post has gone in a completely different direction than I was planning, and I will leave THAT little discussion for another blog post, a bit later in the week!

My Sexy Saturday, week 46

Another 'My Sexy Saturday' is upon us!  For those of you who don't know, My Sexy Saturday is a fun way for writers to showcase their writing.   Each week writers post 7 words, sentences or paragraphs, on a specific (sexy!) theme.  The excerpt can be from a published work, or a work in progress.

This week's theme is 'A Sexy Afternoon', and is pretty straightforward!  For my contribution this week, I have chosen to share an excerpt from 'Georgia: Exposed', the lastest story in my 'Georgia & Zoe' series.


The 'Georgia & Zoe' series is about two women who unexpectedly fall in love, and chronicles their life together.  So far there are five books in the series, and I am about to start working on the sixth book.  The books are all free for download on Smashwords.

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Georgia watched as Zoe unlocked and pushed the front door open, giggling as she watched her pull her top off before she was even inside properly. Georgia walked quickly up the path, by the time she had entered the house Zoe was already upstairs and Georgia could hear the water running in the bathroom. Deciding that composure was overrated Georgia walked over to the MP3 player which was hooked up to speakers and turned it on. Loud. She then began to run as well, taking the stairs two at a time to reach the second floor in record time.

In the bathroom Georgia found her sexy girlfriend in a very naked state. With a sudden intense need to feel her naked body pressed against Zoe's, Georgia speedily discarded her clothes and then looked at Zoe hungrily. She wanted all of her, she wanted to make her scream and writhe around, to tease her until she was begging to be taken. Knowing she couldn't wait until the bath was ready Georgia quickly stalked over to where Zoe was standing by the vanity unit and pressed her up against it. Rather than kissing her, Georgia moved both of her hands to Zoe's boobs and lightly squeezed both of her nipples.

“Get on the vanity...” Georgia ordered, her tone soft but commanding.

Zoe quickly lifted herself onto the vanity unit and Georgia took absolutely no time in spreading her girlfriend's legs open, crouching down and then burying her face in the heavenly wetness that was Zoe's pussy. Zoe moaned loudly and gripped on to Georgia's hair as she made the first lap with her tongue, groaning in delight as she concentrated on the taste of Zoe against her tongue. She had eaten her girlfriend more times than she could count, there was hardly a day that had passed over the past two months without Georgia's tongue dipping inside Zoe's hole, but the taste of Zoe was something that Georgia never got used to. Each taste of her girlfriend's sopping pussy was just as spectacular as the time before.

When Georgia pressed the tip of her tongue inside Zoe's pussy she realised just how ravenous she was for her girlfriend and knew she had to make a decision very quickly. She could either make Zoe cum on the vanity unit, or she could stop and they could get into the bath so they could follow through with their initial plan. Zoe's loud moans were very hard to ignore and Georgia wondered how she could even think of breaking the tongue-pussy contact for a second, not when she had worked Zoe into such a hot, wet mess. Moving her hands under Zoe's thighs, Georgia put her hands on Zoe's hips and pulled her more tightly against her mouth, her own groans of pleasure coming just as close together as Zoe's were.

Zoe wasn't the only one who was saturated, and when Georgia felt moisture on the very tops of her thighs she decided it was only right for both of them to cum. Georgia moved back from Zoe and helped her off the vanity unit and they walked toward the bath, a heated look passing between the two women as Zoe turned the taps off and they both picked up a vibrator from the stool beside the large avocado-shaped bath. Georgia could hear Zoe whimpering as they lowered themselves into the bath and the moment they were positioned perfectly with their legs invitingly spread, there was only one thing left to do.

Georgia giggled quietly when she pressed the button on the vibrator she was holding and it began to make a familiar buzzing sound. As she moved her vibrator down between her legs, Georgia's eyes were glued to Zoe who was squeezing one of her nipples between her fingers while moving her vibrator down between her legs. When Zoe started to run the tip of the vibrator up and down her slit Georgia felt her own pussy clenching tightly, and she knew it wasn't entirely because she had entered the top inch of the vibrator inside her hole. She had watched Zoe masturbating before, but she had never seen her on display like that in the bath.

Long distance (self) loving

  
If you want to test the strength of your relationship, I suggest you try twelve months living apart. Not just on opposite sides of the town, but on opposite sides of the country.  For twelve months my wife and I had a long distance relationship.  It wasn't a case of only seeing each other on weekends either - our time together was during the school holidays - which equated to a total of EIGHT weeks together out of the first fifty two. We made it work though, and have now been living together for almost eighteen months (and married for almost fourteen)... for us long distance is a thing of the past.

There is no point trying to sugar-coat it, long distance relationships are HARD.  They are full of emotional ups and downs, they can be as frustrating as hell, and may cause you to shed more than a few tears.  If your relationship is strong enough, if you are meant to be - you will survive - and your relationship will be stronger for it.  If you aren't in it for the right reasons, or can't be bothered putting in the time and effort required, the relationship will soon fizzle out.  Communication is important in ALL relationships, but moreso when it comes to long distance relationships.

So.  You are meant to be together, you're willing to do what you have to to make your long distance relationship work.  Great.  But how do you keep the spark alive?  For the purpose of this post I am not speaking about how to keep your relationship working, in general... but more the physical/sex side of things.

How on earth can you have a physical relationship when you can't even see each other without the aid of technolog?

The most basic answer is masturbation... but it goes sooooo much... deeper... than merely lying in bed at night and masturbating, while thinking about the man/woman of your dreams who is all those hundreds/thousands of kilometers away.  The real answer lies with technology!


While your other half might not physically be able to touch you, they can join you, in ways that weren't possible five, ten, twenty years ago.  I'm talking phone sex, I'm talking Skype sex, I'm talking sexting.  Back in the day, grandma may have had to make do with the odd raunchy love letter, but couples in long distance relationships in this day and age have a much more immediate way to help sexually gratify each other.  Long distance may be hard, but thanks to technology, it isn't as hard as it once would have been.

Phone sex... phone sex was the main way my wife and I kept that physical spark burning while we

were long distance.  I remember the first time we had phone sex, I was SO nervous.  It was the middle of the afternoon, I was horny and decided I was going to masturbate... but in an odd moment of courage I rang her and confessed what I was about to do.  It turned out she was out.  With her mum.  I was so embarrassed, but my lovely wife?  She excused herself and went somewhere private so she could listen to me masturbating while on the phone.  The nerves didn't last long, and afterward she told me it had made her incredibly horny.

After that day, phone sex became a very regular part of our relationship.  Every night when we went to bed we would talk on the phone, and most nights we would end up having phone sex.  The more we did it, the more comfortable we became, and I think both of us looked forward to our nightly phone sessions, not just for the sexual relief, but also because it had become a way for us to bond.  I would tell her what I wanted to do to her, she would tell me what she wanted to do to me, or we would make up naughty little stories.  It was 50,000 times better than watching porn, because of the intimacy of speaking to each other in such a sexual way.

Remember, I said communication is important - and that doesn't just mean talking about feelings and being honest.  Sexual communication is also a very important skill to develop!

Related to phone sex, is Skype sex (or having sex on a webcam through various computer programs and apps).  It is something we didn't do AS often, but it was certainly enjoyable when we did do it. I specifically remember one afternoon, neither of us had kids at home, and we spent the day in bed 'together'.  We were both on our laptops and when things became a little heated, rather than getting each other off on the phone, we did it via Skype.

It was amazing being able to watch her, and I think it was then that I realised how much you take sex for granted in a non-long distance relationship.  In a 'normal' relationship, If you don't want sex, you don't have to have sex, but in a long distance relationship, no amount of WANTING sex, means you can actually have sex.  I used to hate listening to my friends bitching about the fact so-and-so had been so insistant about wanting sex the night before, she had given in to shut him up.  Poor you, you get to have sex with the love of your life!

During our twelve months apart we would send hundreds of text messages a week, we would literally be texting all day, every day.  A lot of these text messages were your run of the mill, boring, 'this is what I am doing right now' text messages... but there were a LOT of naughty messages sent.  It was an extension of the phone sex, and never failed to put a smile on my face.

I loved being at the supermarket doing the groceries and receiving a text from her, telling me she wished my face was buried between her legs.  I loved waking up to a text message she had sent at 4am telling me she couldn't sleep and she was imagining my fingers were inside her.  I loved being at my parents house and getting a text message telling me she had been thinking about me spanking her and it had made her incredibly horny.  Equally, I loved sending her text messages when I knew she was out, telling her that I had been remembering that time she tied me up, and I had to make myself cum because I got far too horny.  I enjoyed remind her her a LOT about certain things we had done during our rare weeks together - and I enjoyed reminding her as explicitly as possible!  Then there were the sexting sessions we would have, creating a big sexual scenario via text message... her telling me she would suck my nipple, me replying, telling her that while she did that I would be rubbing her clit, her replying saying that she would........ well, you get the idea.

Sexting, of course, is not without its risks.  'I wish your tongue was working my clit right now' is fine to send to your girlfriend, but NOT fine to accidentally send to your grandma.  'Remember when I made you cum twice in a row with that huge purple dildo?' again, fine to send to your girlfriend, NOT fine to accidentally send to an old friend because his name is underneath hers in your contacts list.  LUCKILY there was no accidental sending of messages for either of us... considering the amount of texting we did over those twelve months it is a REAL surprise, and I think we were both extremely lucky!

Private Facebook groups are another way to have a bit of fun together.  Not long after we got together I started a private group for us... mostly because people were getting annoyed at us clogging up their timelines with our personal jokes etc.  Buttttttt the group soon took on a life of its own, and quickly became a way for us to tease each other.  My wife would get home from work and find I had posted a bunch of naughty photos on our page... I would get home from the mall to find she had been browsing Tumblr for naughty pictures to share with me.  The result of this type of teasing was usually a heated phone call, which would end in an orgasm for both of us.

I think it's important to develop the physical side of your long distance relationship, in as many ways as you can, and are comfortable with.  OBVIOUSLY it is important to work on and develop your relationship as a whole  - actually, it's more than important - it is essential, but I am not denying the physical side of things isn't important as well.

If you master the physical side of a long term relationship, chances are you will find that when you ARE together, you have an incredible understanding of what the other person wants/needs/enjoys sexually, and your sex life will be alllllllllllllllll the better for it!

A review for 'Georgia: Restrained'

I was very excited when I checked my Twitter account earlier today, and found someone had posted a review of Georgia: Restrained!

I know a book review probably isn't something a lot of authors get THIS excited about, but I am not an established author, so I felt touched that someone had taken the time to read my book - and that they enjoyed it enough to tell the world about it!

The review was posted on Christina Harding Erotica, and I wanted to share it!

Guildford does not waste any time jumping into her sex scene, starting this story already in the heat of things. I have to admit that I am a big sucker for BDSM and also for lesbian erotica. By putting the two together, Guildford has created a particularly enticing story! With the nature of this being lesbian erotica, I appreciated how Guildford clearly knew how to pleasure woman as well as what women want. She was clearly able to gracefully transition between both roles: the giver and the receiver. In less than 3,000 words Guildford creates a short sexy scene that will harbor arousal.

Thanks, Christina!!!

The story that made my wife cry --- *trigger warning*

A couple of weeks ago I posted a story I had written for my Creative Writing class.  The whole idea was to write a story, submit it to our tutor, she'd give us feedback and we would review/rewrite the story, before submitting the final version for assessment.

I submitted the final version of the story tonight, so thought I would share it here, because I know a few people were interested in reading the reviewed/rewritten version!

(Here is the original version of the story)

The story is about a couple who experience a late miscarriage... so if this is likely to be something that triggers you, perhaps give it a miss, or read it when you are in the mood to cry.  I think that pregnancy loss (particularly late miscarriage and stillbirth) needs to be spoken about more so women (and their families) don't feel it is something they need to keep hidden inside.  Many of my friends have experienced late miscarriages and have had babies born still, I myself have had four first trimester losses, so it is something very close to my heart.

and with that said, here is my story... I hope you... I don't think 'enjoy it' is the right term... but I hope it strikes a chord.


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They Would Remember Her

Lucas was torn between wanting Jenna to wake up and wanting her to stay in the drug-induced sleep she was in. Jenna waking up meant that part of the nightmare would be over for him; his beautiful Jenna would be awake and his fear that he was going to lose her as well as their baby would be a thing of the past. But Jenna waking up also signified the start of their new life together – life as parents whose baby had died – and he wasn't ready for that. How was he supposed to support Jenna when he could barely hold it together himself?

The voicemail kept replaying in his head, 'Luke, I need you... the baby, I'm... something is wrong, Luke. I'm bleeding and these cramps are... oh god, Luke, I need you... I have to ring... ambulance, I... oh god...' there had been a cry of excruciating pain before the voicemail abruptly ended. It had been a deep-seeded cry of agony that he knew would haunt him forever.

What had started out as a day of hunting and other manly pursuits with his best friends had concluded in the most overwhelming panic he had ever experienced. The second he'd heard the terrified tone in Jenna's voice, his entire body had tensed up, his heart had begun racing and his palms had grown sweaty; the voicemail still going as he'd torn through the pub, gasping for air, hoping the silence outside would calm him and he would realise he had misunderstood the whole thing.

Sadly, he hadn't misheard.

Jenna was blurred by the silent tears he couldn't stop, but even through his distorted vision she looked peaceful, angelic even. Her pale hands were resting protectively on her belly and there was the slightest hint of a smile on her lips, their usual redness drained to a dim, almost lifeless pink. Perhaps she was dreaming about their baby, perhaps she was dreaming that she was still pregnant, that their hopes and dreams for their little one were still obtainable.

That Jenna was oblivious was something Lucas envied. How he would have loved to go to sleep and escape the grief which was strangling him like a noose pulled tight around his neck. Every breath he took was a struggle, it hurt going in and it hurt even more going out. With every pained breath, the fog cleared a little more and their new reality became more real, more focused, sharper.

Lucas shifted in the uncomfortable metal chair −the nurse had offered to move a more comfortable chair in for him, but he had refused her offer. Jenna had gone through the scariest experience of her life alone, while he was off laughing and having fun, so why should he accept the offer of anything that would make life a little easier for him? He should have been there with her, the panic should have been something they shared, she shouldn't have had to call for an ambulance, she shouldn't have had to be alone. Alone. Because of him, she had been alone.

A nurse came into the room and quietly set about recording Jenna's vitals on the blue clipboard at the end of the bed. Lucas tried to avoid making eye contact with the young woman, but when she addressed him he had no choice but to turn toward her.

“She is stable,” the nurse, Lucy according to her name badge, informed him and then gave him a sympathetic look. “Is there anything I can get you?” she asked softly.

“My baby back?” Lucas replied bitterly and then cringed. It wasn't the nurse's fault. “I'm sorry, I... no, there isn't anything you can get for me,” he told the woman, who again gave him that sympathetic look.

“She will be awake soon,” Lucy reassured him, “Are you sure you don't want the doctor to talk to her about the surgery?”

“Like I told the doctor, it needs to come from me,” Lucas sighed, dreading the moment when Jenna was with it enough to ask what had happened. The nurse nodded her understanding.

“Just press the call button if you or Jenna need anything,” Lucy said quietly and again gave him that look.

'The look'. He was already sick of it. It was a mixture of pity and sympathy combined with a huge dose of 'I'm so glad it didn't happen to me' and a dash of 'oh crap, is he going to cry again?' The doctor had given it to them, the nurses who had been involved in Jenna's care had given it to them, the anaesthetist had given it to him. He knew it was only the start too, because other than him, Jenna and the staff at the hospital, no one else knew their baby had died yet.

Telling other people was something he was dreading, almost as much as he dreaded telling Jenna how serious things had been for her. Both sets of parents needed to be contacted, his sister, Jenna's brother and sister, his grandparents, their friends, their colleagues, the old lady who lived across the road. How the hell was he supposed to retell the awful story over and over... and over?

Lucas had been preparing for the day he could share with the world that their darling baby had arrived. He had been so excited about announcing their baby's name, their baby's weight, the time he or she was born, whether Jenna had had a natural birth or a caesarean. It was a day that was going to be full of the overuse of the classic cliché statement 'Mum and baby doing well', a day full of introducing his pride and joy to their family and friends. He would over-enthusiastically share photo after photo after photo of their baby – with anyone who would look – and he would say dozens of times that he was so proud of Jenna.

A fresh wave of grief hit and he felt angry with himself. How dare he be upset after everything he had made Jenna go through without him? He didn't deserve to feel upset, it wasn't him who had had to go through hours of bleeding and contractions, it wasn't him who had been alone in hospital while strange doctors examined him and prepared him for the likelihood his baby was going to die soon. All the while he had been laughing, he had been making jokes, he had pretended to be sad that that particular outing would be his last before the baby arrived and he was – as he had put it – 'tied down forever'.

He slumped forward and buried his face in the firm mattress and stiff cover of the hospital bed, while gripping onto the cold metal frame. A loud scream erupted from somewhere deep inside him, it felt as if every single nerve in his body was screaming. His muscles clenched and shook, his heart started to race, he could feel the blood thumping in his head; the scream was long and continuous, he was trembling violently and couldn't stop. There was no heat in the room, he was frozen and could feel his teeth chattering together, even through the scream.

The scream was replaced by loud sobbing and he was quickly aware of the rough bed cover feeling wet and salty against his face. His eyes felt almost raw because of the amount of tears he had cried since that voicemail which had changed everything. No. He lied, the tears hadn't come until he'd answered the phone call from Jenna's doctor, requesting that he make his way to the hospital as fast as possible. He was told that Jenna was experiencing a 'likely impending miscarriage' and the 'pregnancy' was coming to a 'natural end', as the doctor had so coldly put it after quoting some stupid statistic about instances of 'late term miscarriage'.

Lucas had cried angry tears as he thought of the doctor's wording, referring to their baby as 'the pregnancy', using the terms 'likely impending miscarriage' and 'natural end', rather than being up front and saying “We suggest you get here quickly, we believe your baby is dying.” It would have been blunt, but it would have been realistic. Did the doctor think that by de-humanising what was happening the pain they were going to feel would be lessened?

The journey after that was a blur, all Lucas knew was that Jenna was in room 4 on the obstetrics ward and that he needed to be with her as fast as was humanly possible. He drove with his foot far too heavily on the accelerator and his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard it hurt. He yearned to be by Jenna's side and couldn't remember ever feeling so desperate to get somewhere. When the city had come into view, his tears fell even faster, turning the cityscape into abstract art, bright shocks of light and vaguely rectangular shapes which formed a picture that didn't quite look real.

Lucas stilled when he felt fingertips brush against the nape of his neck and he let out a loud, shaky sigh as that hand came to rest lightly on the back of his head.

“Lucas,” Jenna's raspy voice was barely a whisper.

He didn't want to look at her because he knew she would see right through him. At the same time, he needed to look into her eyes, to see for himself that she was alive and he wasn't imagining it. Slowly, he looked up and was surprised to see she was smiling. Had she forgotten that before she'd begun to crash the doctor had confirmed their beautiful baby had died?

“You're here,” Jenna observed and he nodded as he placed his hand over hers.

“I'm sorry I left you,” Lucas told her, his voice wavering as more tears threatened.

“You didn't leave me,” Jenna reminded him, her voice surprisingly full of conviction. “I wanted you to go to Trev's stag night,” she added.

“I shouldn't have gone,” Lucas replied, shaking his head, his anger at himself simmering back to the surface. “If I hadn't gone I would have been there with you and this wouldn't have happened,” he proclaimed.

“Luke, look at me,” Jenna demanded. She only ever called him Luke in their most intimate or emotional of moments. Lucas looked at her, his eyes brimming with tears. “This would have happened if you were there, or not,” she declared, her voice breaking as tears began to cascade down her cheeks.

There was no way Lucas could simply sit at her bedside and hold her hand while she cried. She needed him and he needed her. He slipped his shoes off and without even thinking about it undid his jeans and removed them too, placing them in a heap on the chair he had been sitting on. Hospital beds weren't made for two people but somehow he managed to get in and lie on his side next to Jenna. He held her as close as was possible considering the monitors she was attached to, and the fact she had had abdominal surgery. It may not have been as close as he would have liked, but to finally have her in his arms felt amazing. He hadn't realised how much he had needed that contact with her.

The sounds of their grief combined and created a haunting symphony which echoed around the room; if he cared to think about it, Lucas would have been sure their cries probably carried right throughout the obstetrics ward.

“I need to know what happened,” the hushed tones of Jenna's voice shook him from his thoughts.

“You should rest some more,” Lucas suggested, trying to stall the inevitable.

“Luke,” Jenna's voice was firm. There was no way he was going to be able to put it off any longer.

“How much do you remember?” Lucas asked, wondering from which point in time he needed to start recounting the story for her.

“I... I remember the doctor... and the ultrasound... saying the baby was... was...” Jenna started, then took a minute to compose herself. “I know the baby died... I remember the pain getting worse, I remember the doctor telling me I was dilating... I... I remember that I was in labour... then I felt dizzy... I remember you pushing the button for the nurse... and she didn't come... and you said they were fucking useless and you left the room... you were running... I could hear you shouting about blood... I was going to yell at you for yelling at the nurses...” Jenna continued between sobs. She took another deep breath and carried on, “And then you were in that chair screaming into the mattress, and I wanted to hug you, but I couldn't talk... and you couldn't see me... and I needed to touch you...”

Lucas lifted Jenna's hand up to his mouth and kissed each knuckle. Jenna moved her fingers between Lucas's and gently squeezed his hand.

“I'm ready,” she told him and Lucas kissed her on the cheek before finally starting.

“When I got back to the room with the nurses you had passed out, one of the nurses called for the doctor while the other checked your blood loss,” Lucas began, squeezing his eyes shut as the scene replayed in his mind. “The nurse called the doctor again and said it was urgent, that you were haemorrhaging.” He had to stop, the image of the blood-soaked sheets was too much for him.

“Take your time, baby,” Jenna whispered soothingly and squeezed his hand again.

Lucas exhaled loudly and picked up where he left off. “The doctor arrived and told me they had to get you into surgery immediately, he said they would do an emergency cesarean and try to stop the bleeding.” The next part was the hardest for him. “He warned that you might not make it through the surgery.” The memory of that alone stopped him in his tracks, and again he began to cry.

“I'm okay, baby. It's okay,” Jenna whispered. There was so much compassion in her voice, it had so many soothing qualities that it caused his heart to break all over again. She would have been an amazing mum. Would be. When their time came... again.

“What... what about the baby?” Jenna asked, there was a soft quality to her voice he had never heard before.

“Doctor Bishop said that if we would like to spend some time with the baby we can, when we are ready, but that we don't have to, in which case we need to let them know and they will advise us of the options for.. well... what happens with the...” Lucas started to relay the information the doctor had given him, but Jenna cut him off.

“I need to see my baby,” Jenna insisted, her voice full of conviction and strength. “Before we even think of cremation or burial, I NEED to have my first cuddle with my baby,” she added and Lucas felt a lump rising in his throat, not because he was sad, but because Jenna sounded as desperate to see their baby as he felt.

“Do you want me to ring for the nurse?” Lucas asked and Jenna nodded.

“Please, I want to see our little... wait, do you know if it is a girl or a boy?” Jenna stopped him before he rang the call button.

“The doctor said they were able to determine the sex but I wanted us to find out together,” Lucas informed her.

Jenna and Lucas had agreed early on in the pregnancy that they didn't want to find out the sex of their baby until he or she was born. Both looked forward to that special moment when their baby was placed into Jenna's arms for the very first time and together they would peek inside the soft blanket their child was wrapped in to reveal whether they had a son or a daughter.

It was that thought that got them through the weeks of morning sickness Jenna had experienced. Every morning at 6.45am Jenna would wake up, groan, stumble out of bed and rush to their ensuite. Lucas was always close behind and would crouch down beside her as she leaned against the toilet to throw up. He would rub her back and tell her it was okay, even though he didn't know if it was normal for her to look so pale and for every movement she made to seem so sluggish. Every morning for ten weeks she would slump into his arms and he would pepper kisses all over the top of her head while she tried to get the energy to stand up and go back to bed.

After Lucas informed the nurse they were ready to meet their baby, the nurse helped Jenna get more comfortable, propping her up on pillows and changing the angle of the bed so she was as close to sitting as the pain in her abdomen would allow. Lucas and Jenna sat in silence while waiting for their baby to be brought to them. He wanted to talk, he wanted to find something comforting to say, but they were about to hold their dead baby... he knew there were no words that would suffice.

The door finally opened and not for the first time that day, Lucas struggled to breathe. All he could see was the small off-white blanket the nurse was cradling in her hands. A baby wasn't meant to fit in the palm of your hands, it was meant to be cuddled protectively in your arms. Lucas felt tears sliding down his cheeks as he watched the nurse carefully place their baby – wrapped in the tiny blanket – in Jenna's hands.

They finally had their baby.

Before she had gone to get the baby, the nurse had informed them what their baby would look like, the mottled colouration, the disporportionate body and head, the fragile nature of an under-developed fetus. Lucas had imagined the sight of their child would upset him, that it would possibly even scare him, and now he felt immense guilt that he had worried the sight of their child would give him nightmares.

What he hadn't been prepared for was that when he drunk in the sight of their precious baby, he would be looking at a miniature version of Jenna. There was nothing 'mottled' or 'disproportionate' or 'fragile' about the angelic baby he was looking at. The only word that came to mind was 'perfection'.

“She looks beautiful, just like her mother,” Lucas whispered.

“She? How do you know?” Jenna whispered back.

“My darling, she looks just like you, there is no doubt in my mind we created a little princess,” Lucas told her in the same hushed tone.

“I don't see it,” Jenna replied, her voice still a quiet whisper.

“The little nose, it is a replica of yours,” Lucas began. “The little lips, the same beautiful bow shape as yours,” he continued. “Even the eyelashes, they would have been long, I can tell,” he turned and smiled at her. “And I bet she has the same bright blue eyes as you, eyes that would get her out of a lot of trouble growing up,” Lucas surprised himself by chuckling quietly before he adding, “Like you... I can never stay angry at you, one deep look into those eyes and I am rendered useless.”

“I need to see for myself,” Jenna stated, and had their hearts not been crumbling piece by piece, he would have been sure she sounded almost upbeat. Grief did funny things to a person.

Lucas moved a pillow onto Jenna's lap and she gently placed their carefully swaddled baby on the pillow, Lucas heard her inhale deep and long and held his breath as she opened the blanket. For the first time – and the last – they took in the sight of their perfect baby girl. Normally Lucas would have exclaimed 'I told you! I'm always right!' and Jenna would have rolled her eyes as she shook her head and giggled quietly.

Not in that moment though.

He needed to get to know his daughter. He needed to touch her hand, to gently run the pad of his thumb down the sole of the smallest foot he had ever seen, to stroke her cheek... and through tears he did it all. Through tears he watched Jenna committing every tiny feature of their daughter to memory, her touch so delicate, so protective... the touch of a mother, he realised.

“We need photos of her,” Jenna suddenly said loudly, her voice full of panic.

“I have my phone, we can ta...” Lucas began to say, stopping abruptly when Jenna gripped tightly onto his forearm.

“We can't call her 'her'! She needs a name Lucas!” Jenna exclaimed, clenching his forearm so tightly her nails dug into his skin painfully.

“Sweetheart, try and breathe... I want us to name her as well,” Lucas assured her and felt the tension leaving Jenna's fingers before her hand fell from his arm to his thigh.

“Sasha...” Jenna's whispered, she swallowed loudly and seconds later her sobs filled the room.

“Sasha,” Lucas said nodding his head, his throat burning and jaw clenching as he began to weep.

When there was a break in the tears Lucas silently took the only photos they would ever have of their darling daughter.

They were photos he knew they would look at in fifty years time and cry as they thought about the beautiful child who had been a physical presence in their life so briefly but would always be their first born child.

On her birthday, they would remember her. On Mother's Day and Father's Day, they would remember her. At Christmas, they would remember her. Every single day, for the rest of their lives, they would remember her.

No matter how many times they were blessed with a new addition to their family, no matter how rich their life was, no matter how much happiness they had, no matter how many great memories they created and shared, there would always be something missing. Their first born. Their Sasha.

Tuesday... boobsday

Yes, the Tuesday/boobsday rhyme is both weak and pathetic, but I had to make it sound as if I had a legitimate reason for posting photos of boobs.

As my wife just pointed out, the Tuesday/boobsday rhyme is also irrelevant, because of the simple fact that IT IS WEDNESDAY.

Wednesday Watermelons?  Wednesday W.......

Fine.  I want to post photos of boobs purely because I do. 

Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs.  That is all that is swarming around in my head, and that, I must tell you, is NOT very conducive to reviewing and rewriting a short story which needs to be submitted as part of my Creative Writing portfolio, by 10am on Friday!  It is my hope that by posting photos of boobs right now, I shall purge brain of all boob thoughts, and then be able to concentrate on rewriting this wretched story.

Long story short, I am posting boobs for the good of my education. 

Not only am I posting boobs, I am sharing my favourite boobs in the world - bra clad that is - because I don't want to share my favourite nipples as well!  Yeap, for some unknown reason, my wife gave me permission to post photos of her boobs... you can just guess for yourself which are hers and which were found trawling the interwebz. (okay, so the obvious amateur-ness of the photos of my wife's boobies gives it away...)

IFFFFFFFF you know my wife, now may be a good time to close the window and think happy thoughts about the anonymous boobs above........


... unless you want to see my wife's boobs... in which case... do continue!

My happy place
... for obvious reasons

 

 

My Sexy Saturday, week 44

I am very excited to say that after a little break, My Sexy Saturday is back!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with My Sexy Saturday, it is a chance for published and unpublished writers to share 7 words, sentences or paragraphs from one of their works, based on a different theme each week.

This week the theme is 'Sexy Once Again', and I have chosen to share 7 paragraphs from one of my (many!) un-named, un-finished works.

In the lead up to this little excerpt, Jane and Beau are lying in bed together, naked... Jane is heavily pregnant and has been on bedrest for five weeks.  To say she is a little sexually frustrated is putting it mildly!

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“You're a tease,” Jane sighed and Beau smirked at her.

“You do realise that you're thirty seven weeks now, which means bedrest and pelvic rest are both officially over,” Beau reminded her. Jane frowned.

“You do remember I'm thirty seven weeks now and that I resemble a beached whale,” Jane said sarcastically. Beau shook his head and brushed a stray hair away from her face.

“You are thirty seven weeks, you look beautiful, I absolutely adore your belly and think you look stunning,” Beau corrected her. Jane smiled sadly at him.

“I know I've been complaining about the lack of sex, but... I don't even know if I can find a position to have sex in now,” Jane informed him. Beau kissed her softly.

“We will find a position that works then. If sex isn't going to work, then I always have a tongue I can use,” Beau replied with a cheeky wink.

“Yeah, well, I'm not going on top, I will repulse you,” Jane declared sadly.

“You won't, but if that is how you feel then I'm not going to make you,” Beau replied grazing his fingertips back and forward over the top of her thigh.

Beau moved in as close as her belly would allow and then started slowly kissing his way up her neck and along her jaw, finally reaching her lips. Jane moaned quietly against his mouth as their lips brushed together and he felt the first touch of her tongue against his. Beau brushed against one of her nipples with the back of his hand and was immediately rewarded with a loud moan as Jane arched back and looked at him pleadingly.

“Beau. I need you NOW,” Jane begged. He hadn't expected it to happen so quickly but was ready for her. He had been for the past five weeks.

“Roll onto your other side,” he whispered, smiling as he watched her roll away from him, the task taking a little more time and effort than it had a few weeks earlier.

Beau pressed up against her back and carefully helped her move her top leg so it was resting on his. He peppered small kisses on the top of her back as he lined himself up with her hole. The tip of his cock nudged against her pussy and he groaned as he felt how wet she was. He had wanted to take things slowly but upon feeling her wet heat, realised that it was going to take a LOT of self-control on his behalf. Beau put a hand on her hip and very slowly pressed inside her, surprised by the way she pushed back against him and let out a loud cry. Jane put her hand on top of his and they linked fingers. He started to hit deeper Jane began squeezing his hand tightly, her pussy was getting noticeably tighter and wetter and as she started to cry out even louder he could feel her body starting to tense up against him.

Beau concentrated on keeping his movements deep rather than fast and as Jane started shrieking he began to move deeper and slightly faster. He would have loved the sex to last for hours, but he was realistic... it had been over five weeks since they had last had sex together, and they each needed it as badly as the other. Jane began to tremble against him, the trembling quickly progressed to shaking and he only managed to hold her on the crest for a few seconds before she came loudly, her cry so intense it was almost a growl.

Her pussy tightly gripped his cock, the strong contractions milking him, pushing him closer and closer to the brink. A few deep, hard thrusts were all it took and he came undone, his orgasm hitting with a gutteral roar. They had both come down from their orgasms he put his arm over her and started to rub her belly while she tried to catch her breath. When she slowly rolled over and their eyes met Jane grinned at him then leaned forward and kissed him.

“Thank you...” Jane said with a grin.

“That felt... OH MY GOD... you felt amazing,” Beau exclaimed and Jane shrugged.

“Things have felt VERY swollen down there the past couple of weeks,” Jane commented.

“Joys of pregnancy huh,” Beau winked and Jane rolled her eyes.

“Don't get me started... Ryan seems to think that it's really fun to headbutt my cervix today. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that is?” Jane asked and Beau chuckled.

“No I do not know what that feels like, but I promise you that when he comes out I will tell him off,” Beau joked and Jane giggled.

“I love you,” Jane said and kissed him.

“I love you too,” Beau replied and smiled at her as he rubbed her belly.