All posts by K D Grace

Lip Service at its Best

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Last week I was lucky enough to have the fabulous Renee Denyer from Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium doing a very informative Q&A about blow jobs. This week she’s going to do a Q&A about going down. Welcome back, Renee! Let’s talk about eating at the Y.

KD: What do you think is the number one thing women would like their lovers to know about going down?

Renee: It’s not unusual for women to climax only from oral sex, so get your best tongue-moves on, and get yourself down there! Enjoy the whole of the vulva, and let her know how much you are loving it!

Imagine the clit as a clock-face (or ‘clit-face’). Many women report that they are most sensitive at 10-11am or 1-2pm. This makes perfect sense; if a woman is touching herself, her hand is likely to sneak down slightly off-side. A common complaint is that men are too heavy-handed, so remember to go slowly and gently.

Scratchy stubble is not pleasant on soft labia lips, so a shave might be in order. A minty fresh breath can be sexy when gently blown over the clit, so brush your teeth or keep breath mints handy.

KD: What do you think is the most important thing the person going down needs to know about giving cunnilingus?

Renee: If you want to treat her to the full oral experience, hook two of your fingers into her G-spot once she is fully aroused. Remember to lube your fingers up so they are nice and slidey, even if you think she is ‘wet enough’. Lube is the single most effective sex toy, so you should always have a bottle by the bed. Stroking the G-spot with firm ‘come-hither’ motions can drive her absolutely wild! If she is game, stroking in or around her anus offers yet extra sensations. Or, even better, if you are both game, licking and kissing your way down to and around her anus can have your lady (s)creaming for more!

KD: What do you think is the number one thing women NEED to know about cunnilingus?

Renee: Many women feel insecure about how they smell, taste and look. Let’s get this out there: a pussy is beautiful whatever it’s size, shape or colour; a pussy smells and tastes wonderful – like you want to bury your face in it! A ‘just-washed’ pussy can be a little bit too squeaky clean (who wants a mouthful of soap??), so I’d say have a shower, then wear your knickers for an hour. That way your lucky lover will get the delicious scent of ‘you’, and trust me, this adds to their experience!

KD: Last week you gave us a brief anatomical tour of the penis. Could you give us a brief tour of the vulva today?

Renee: Oh sure – you need to understand the anatomy in order to give great head!

The Mons is the soft, padded spot on top of the pubic bone. It’s nice for arousal, and a hand cupping it can be very sexy indeed. The Labia Majora, or outer lips, protects the inner layers of the vulva, and are not to be ignored. Stroking, kissing and licking all go down rather well. The Labia Minora, or inner lips, are sensitive and adore attention. Kissing and licking your way in a V-shape between them and the outer lips is a good move.

The clit has 8000 nerve endings! So it by lavishing long, gentle ice cream licks or fast, focused flicks on it, your will be driving your woman wild. Wait until she is turned on though – attention on to a less-than-horny clit is just annoying and painful.

KD: What are the biggest fears, both women and men have that keep them from enjoying cunnilingus?

Renee: I know men who hate doing it (I‘ve yet to meet a lesbian who admits to disliking pussy!), and I know women who hate having it done to them, and I think they are missing out.

Men can be squeamish about the taste, but I’d say to put a dental dam over her vulva (with a dab of lube on her side, to enhance her experience) and lick through that. A dam is also a safer sex option, so good if you have several partners or one night stands.

Women worry about ‘taking too long’, but a true cunnilinguist knows that there is no such thing as ‘too long’! It’s an experience to be savoured by both parties.

KD:  Any advice or tips?

Renee: My advice would be to find a position that works for you both. She needs to be able to relax (and tense her thighs if need be, many women bring on their orgasm this way), but the giver also needs to be comfortable. On average, a woman needs 20 minutes of continuous stimulation, so make sure you are in a comfortable position as breaking off because you have a crooked neck or jaw ache is a no-no. You could put a pillow under her hips to raise her up a little, or you could have her sitting on your face.

Some women prefer to have their legs bent, others need to stretch out – go with her preference, as it may be difficult for her to climax otherwise.

Another good tip is to use a dildo or a vibrator for her to clench her pc muscles around while you work your magic on pussy – women’s orgasms are often stronger if they have something to grab on to.

Lastly, despite porn often showing the complete opposite, women tend to go quieter just before their orgasm takes hold – she is concentrating, so whatever you do, don’t stop!

For those of you wanting to brush up on your tongue action, I recommend this book:
http://www.sh-womenstore.com/Erotica/Sex+Guides/oral_sex_shell_never_forget.html

Victoria Blisse Tells Why it’s Always Christmas in Lincoln

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The lovely Victoria Blisse has taken time out from the festivities of  the fabulous Blissemas Blog Hop to stop in and tell us a story behind the story. And in keeping with the spirit of the season, she’s going to tell us what inspired her hot new story, Always Christmas in Lincoln. Welcome, Victoria, and happy holidays!

There’s always more to a story than meets the eye and that is certainly true for Always Christmas in Lincoln.

It was back in May when I came up with the idea. I went down to Lincoln to join in with the Lincoln book festival with one of my publishers, Total-E-Bound. I experienced Steep Hill very soon after arriving, in fact I had to drag my luggage up it! I was very relieved to find a lovely ice cream shop at the top of that hill I can tell you!

So it was the second time I’d visited Lincoln, I’d been a few years earlier for the Christmas Markets with my mum. It was a lovely trip and it was extra cold and frosty at the time we went, very festive indeed. I was reminded of that visit in the evening when I was enjoying a meal with Nikki, Claire and Heidi from the TEB gang and fellow authors Liz Coldwell and Serena Yates.

We were in a very nice Thai restaurant enjoying a very delicious meal when we noticed that running all round the windows and over the ceiling were…Christmas decorations! Reindeers and Angels if I remember correctly! We made comment about them then and there but the conversation moved on. We found out about Serena Yates love of spreadsheets which she shares with Nikki in fact and talked books, promotion and life.

Anyway, after lovely food we went for drinkies together in the hotel and as we walked up the driveway we noticed all the bushes were lit up with bright white fairy lights and Liz commented. “It’s always Christmas in Lincoln.” And bam, I had a book title and all I needed to do was write the story to go with it! As I lay in bed that night I thought over ideas for my story and by morning I’d thumbed out a quick plot on my phone.

So I have to thanks the authors there that night and especially Liz because without them this story wouldn’t have been born!

It was June when I wrote Always Christmas in Lincoln and so the story starts in Summer! I found it really interesting to be writing something so festive set in the middle of a heatwave. How did I do it? I created a year-round Christmas shop in Lincoln!

Now you know the inspiration behind the story, let’s find out about the actual story!

It isn’t really always Christmas in Lincoln but when Felicity gets her man it feels like it.

Felicity hates Christmas. It reminds her of a traumatic event from her childhood. She thinks the Permanent Christmas shop is tacky, with its windows full of trees and tinsel all year round and would rather it disappeared from her picturesque home town.

When she discovers that Carl, who she lusts over every time she sees him in the tea rooms, is in fact the owner of Ho, Ho, Ho! She’s not quite sure what to think. It takes a sexy meeting in the middle of a fake winter wonderland to make her realise the advantages of Christmas in the middle of summer.

As time passes, Carl and Felicity indulge in more sexy liaisons but as Christmas approaches Felicity doubts whether she is anything more than a sensual distraction for the festive shop owner and when her handsome ex, Sean, sweeps into town on a quest to win her back she finds she has a tough decision to make.

Can Carl and his Christmas cheer win over her hardened heart?

And now an excerpt, a very, very hot excerpt:

It was very surreal being surrounded by snow, even fake snow, in the middle of summer. Every time I bobbed my head up and down on his delicious dick—I swear it tasted of gingerbread and cinnamon—something different would catch my eye. The green and red- scarfed penguin lying on its side next to me or the grinning Santa on a rocking chair up on the shelf. Each had a smug smile that I was sure signaled how much they liked the show.

It was very hot—I suspect I was a little delirious at the time. I pulled my focus back to the man in front of me. I listened to his groans, his pants, and felt the push of his hips as he showed me exactly how much he was enjoying the feel of my mouth around his cock and encouraged me to take him deeper and to suck harder.

“Fuck, Fliss,” he gasped, “you’re amazing.”

I smiled up at him and winked. I slowly withdrew him from my mouth and ran my tongue around his tip.

“I really want to fuck you,” Carl groaned breathlessly. “Really want to. Really.”

“Say pretty please,” I teased, just as eager to feel his hardness inside me as he was to fill me.

“Please?” he begged.

I twirled my fingers around his tip and stroked down his shaft. I let my mischievous side out to play and grinned wickedly at him, but didn’t move an inch.

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” he pleaded desperately.

“Well, since you ask so nicely…” I let the sentence linger and moved myself forward slightly. This was all the permission Carl needed. He lunged forward and caught me off balance. As we rolled around, tinkling and clanking noises surrounded us, but we weren’t worried about damaged or out of place stock. After much rolling and giggling, I ended up below him, my skirt around my waist and his cock straining against the material of my knickers.

“I’ve dreamt about this for so long.” He worked the damp fabric to one side and slid a thick, warm finger into me. “You’re gorgeous.”

I was surprised—I’d hardly realised he knew who I was and wouldn’t have ever even imagined he’d thought of me in a sexual way.

“I didn’t know.” The words came in between moans and panting breaths as he finger-fucked me, finding and manipulating my clit and seeking out the sensitive spots inside me. “I’ve been watching you for months and I didn’t realise you even knew I existed.”

“Oh, I knew.” He nodded. “I watched you all the time from behind my newspaper in the café.”His finger left me and I longed for more contact. A moment later, his dick pushed at my entrance and filled me. A streak of warm excitement flashed through my insides, creating a paradox of completion and desire that drove my hips up to meet his first thrust. “But believe it or not,” he continued, “I’m shy and I didn’t know how to approach you.”

We looked at each other and laughed.

“You conquered your shyness, then,” I said. “I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.”

Always Christmas in Lincoln is available from Total-E-Bound now!

Have you ever celebrated or thought about Christmas in Summer?

At Sh! Good Suckers are Made not Born

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KD: Today I won’t be steaming up your monitors with erotica tidbits, but with hot, practical tips instead.  Today I’m talking with one of my very favourite people on the planet, the fabulous, sassy Renee Denyer, who is the manager of what everyone already knows is my very favourite sexy store on the planet, Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium. Recently Renee gave me a fabulous write-up of the materials she uses when she teaches Sh!’s most popular class —  you guessed it — the ‘Blow His Mind’ class on blow jobs. All I can say is, wow! I had no idea! With that in mind, I decided to ask Renee a few questions about fellatio to share with my lovely readers.

KD: Renee, so you think men are as insecure about asking for blow jobs as women are about giving them?

Renee: Men may feel awkward asking for it, but they certainly have no problems hinting at it! I think all women have felt a firm hand on their head, pushing us further down, at some point..!

KD: What are your most commonly asked questions when you teach the BJ course at Sh!?

Renee: The most commonly asked question is the one that is hardest to answer: “how long should a blow job go on for?” There is simply no right answer to this. It depends on your mood, on his mood, whether it’s done as foreplay or main course, how long you can comfortable suck him without getting jaw ache… How ever long you fancy, be that five minutes or an hour (though the ladiez are usually horrified at the thought of sucking for a whole hour!). I’d recommend alternating the sucking with some wet kissing and licking of his member in order to give you a break during the blow job.

KD: What inspired the blow jobs course?

Renee: Gosh, I can’t even remember! It probably involved plenty of wine during an after-hours conversation with a colleague… We meet many women who feel insecure when it comes to technique, so that’s probably how it started.

KD: When I read the write-up you sent me of the material you used for the course, I have to admit I found the actually anatomy bit totally fascinating. A lot of it, I didn’t know. Do you think understanding our sexual anatomy contributes to good sex, or is it sometimes a case of less is more?

Renee: A good understanding of basic anatomy is important. During the class, we start off by talking anatomy; women generally know what a dick looks like on the outside, but they have no idea what goes on the inside. There are no bones or muscles inside a cock, just cylinders filled with erectile tissue. The cylinders fill with blood when a man gets turned on, hence why men don’t think so well when they are hot n’ bothered – there is simply not enough blood to go around!

KD: Tell us about classes coming up at Sh! And will the BJ class be offered again soon?

Renee: We have some great classes planned in for next year, like rope classes, spanking classes and how to up your orgasm-quota! As the Blow His Mind class is the most popular, we’ll do it monthly. It’s a great evening for getting the girls together for some giggles and learning a few new tricks! http://www.sh-womenstore.com/Erotic+Classes.htm

KD: In future, I hope to entice Renee back to A Hopeful Romantic with more sneak peeks at the fabulous courses and events offered at Sh! In the meantime, Renee has included four tips from the course as the cherry on top, so to speak, of this post. Thanks a lot, Renee, for the crash course. You and all the lovely Ladiez at Sh! are the best!

Tips

1.    Take a sip of a cold drink and go down on him. Then take a sip of a warm drink, and suck. Then, another sip of the cold drink… You’re changing his sensate-focus ~ very sexy!

2.    If your breasts are medium – generously-sized, drizzle some warming  lube over them, squeeze them together and let him thrust in between. For extra brownie-points, lick the head on each up-stroke…

3.    Simple Simon Says: Suck Harder. Insert a finger into his mouth for him to lick and suck at the same time you’re sucking his cock. Suck at the same intensity and speed as he’s sucking your finger – you’re playing ‘Simple Simon Says’ on his cock!

4.    My personal favourite: The Number-10 Technique. Start off by giving him 9 short sucks on the head, then 1 deep one down over the shaft (as deep as you can go without gagging). Give him 8 short sucks on the head and 2 deep sucks over the shaft; 7 short sucks and 3 deep… You get where I going with this? Keep a quiet count in your head, and by the time you get to 1 short suck and 9 deep ones, he’ll be ready to blow his load!

Good suckers are made, not born!

 

 

 

Happy Birthday, Fannying Around!

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Happy Birthday Fannying Around! Yes, Thursday night was the big one year birthday bash in London at Sh! Erotic Women’s Emporium, Hoxton. Fannying Around is the brainchild of the vivacious and multi-talented Sarah Berry. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that Fannying Around is her heartchild. Certainly no one could ever doubt that for Sarah, Fannying Around was a labour of love. This quote from Sarah on the official Fannies Rule website explains how Fannying Around came to be the talk of the town in London.

I first came up with the idea for the group when I was a teenager. I couldn’t have sex, I didn’t know why but I dreamed of a place I could talk freely about my problem. Every time I tried to insert anything into my fanny be it a finger, tampon, cock or courgette, I started to panic. I couldn’t tell anyone and suffering in silence led to clinical depression.When I was 21, my then boyfriend marched me to the Family Planning Clinic. Not long after I got diagnosed with vaginismus. This is a condition where the brain tells the pelvic muscles to contract when anything is inserted. 

Over the next decade, with a lot of therapy, vodka, prescription drugs, all sorts of encounters – both shameful and respectful – my fanny began to open and I was finally able to discuss it with others.Turns out ladies have a lot to say about their fannies and as soon as people started sharing all that was normal to them, I realised how individual they all are. They are mysterious, stubborn, on fire, loose, exciting, hairy, sexy, stubbly, oozing, bloody, wet, dry, lippy, asymmetrical, fabulous and more. 

Thursday night, Sarah, dressed in sparkles and a top hat, and surrounded by myriad fanniers led the celebration of a whole year of women filling the Sh! basement to nearly bursting to talk about their fannies, make new friends, and celebrate being women.

I felt especially happy to be a part of the celebration, as I was one of the original fanniers who nearly overflowed the basement at Sh!, Portobello on a cold December night a year ago. I remember that night we all introduced ourselves by saying, ‘My name is … And my fanny is…’ The introduction was optional, and no one had to say anything if they weren’t comfortable. ‘My name is… And my fanny is…’ has become the traditional opening ice breaker for every Fannying Around meeting since, an icebreaker that has sparked a good many fascinating conversations. That first night discussion was lively, raunchy, frank, sometimes funny, often poignant, and in the year since, that has continued to be the case at the Fannying Around meetings.

That first night, the lovely manager of Sh!, Renee Denyer, brought out Rosy, the fanny puppet for a little fannatomy lesson. Since that first meeting, there have been tantric teachers, there have been midwives, there have been porn stars, there have been poets and therapists and performers and writers and fabulous women, so many fabulous women, women who I’m now happy to call my friends. And there is now a website, there have been field trips and a casting party and Private Pictures and Muffember and interviews and … Well the list goes on!

Thursday night was a celebration of all things fanny, complete with a special fannytail created by the London Cocktail Society especially for the event, mixed and served up with a smile by the lovely Katie. There were yummy, beautiful c*nt cakes made by the scrumptious Rubyyy Jones. After all, it was a birthday party. And what’s a birthday party without cake? And for this special occasion, and for the first time ever, men were invited to Fanny Club to help celebrate everything fanny. I did notice they all seemed to be having a great time.

The evening was celebrated in poetry performed by the fabulous Annie Player, the sultry Cathy Flower, and Fannying Around’s very own poet in residence, Mel Jones. I felt extremely honoured to have been asked to read from my very fanny-centric story, Muscle Bound. I think most people would agree that outrageously funny comedienne, Janice Phayre, stole the show when she donned her knitted fanny costume and enticed the audience into a chorus of the old Carpenter’s song, Close to You.

As always the lovely Sh! Ladiez host the very best parties. For the past year Sh! has provided a warm, welcoming place for Fannying Around to meet, and I know I speak for everyone when I say how much fun it is just to be there. There was plenty of time to shop and browse and chat and reminisce with other fanniers about all that this year has brought and what we hope will happen before we all gather together next December to celebrate year two. All the while the beautiful Sarah Berry, in her top hat, sparkled. …And so did her dress.

 

The Gift of ‘Outside’

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For Blissemas, I decided to talk about Christmas Past and the best Christmas gift ever in the history of Christmas gifts — the gift of Outside. That gift came topped with a bow, all wrapped up in a box with a pair of ice skates. Those ice skates changed everything for me, from the very first time I put them on and wobbled out onto the ice. Suddenly the fun moved outdoors for the winter, and I engaged with the cold deep months in northern Colorado in a way I never had before.

I lived in a very small town. With its three taverns, four churches, a general store and a bank, it was a gathering place for ranchers, miners and timber workers, not much more. There was a small skating rink that some of the local men had dug and paved. It was really just a scrape in an empty field. Next to the rink, they had built a three-sided shelter with benches for putting on skates. In the centre, they placed a fifty-five gallon barrel with the side cut out, which served as a stove to warm chilled noses and fingers. That was it really. But it quickly became my favourite place.

Skating was fun in the short hours of daylight, but I especially loved skating on those crystal clear nights when the moon was full and the air practically crackled as you breathed it. The snow shown like a sequined blanket covering the fields, and the mountains loomed on the horizon, hulking and tarnished silver dark.

I never wanted to leave. I remember skating on those glistening nights until I shivered all over and my fingers stung through my mittens in the bite of the sub-zero night. But being out there on a pair of ice skates was being out there because I wanted to be. It was completely different from rushing to school or the grocery store or some other place one rushed to all bundled up in down and wool and fleece-lined boots. It’s not that I had conquered nature. No one who lived in that climate was stupid enough to believe that. Every car, every pick-up truck, was equipped with tyre chains, a heavy blanket, a few chocolate bars and a snow shovel. My dad never went out on a long winter drive without a flask filled with hot, thick coffee. We all knew that in the battle with the elements, the northern Colorado winter would win every time. So we were prepared.

But the enemy was magically transformed into a friend on a pair of ice skates. Ice skates made me brave, made me feel a bit like I was walking next to a mountain lion or hugging a bear. The truce was tenuous and giddy and frighteningly delicious, whirling and twirling on the ice with the smell of wood smoke wafting from the barrel stove. Suddenly, at least for a little while, I was in it, I was a part of it. For a little while I could allow myself to revel in something so deadly that most of the time people were afraid to look it in the eye, lest they jinx themselves. But on ice skates, one played with fire, of the iciest kind, and the fire played back. On ice skates the cold winter became warmer somehow. Oh not physically warmer, never physically warmer, but still somehow a little more accommodating, a little more yielding. Or maybe we were all just a little more brazen, just a little more willing to risk a few more minutes while our fingers froze and our noses stung and our toes tingled through our thick woolen socks.

We swirled and danced and laughed always only a breath away from danger, always only a breath away from the killing cold. We all knew about freezing to death. You couldn’t live at 10,000 feet altitude and not know, not live with it every winter, every blizzard, every dangerous slip and slide on the icy roads, and the snow packed passes. But when we were on ice skates, while we danced and swirled, the winter danced and swirled with us, it embraced us, it caressed us, it gave us an intimate peek into something so magical, so elementally powerful that even now my heart races when I write about it, when I remember as a kid not understanding why I wanted to stay out way past comfort, why I wanted to feel its icy breath in my own lungs.

It’s fragility, that’s what it is, human fragility. We live daily with the fragility of our thin skin and our delicate insides, and we’re constantly making truces with our environment, but we very seldom ever actually connect with it. We very seldom even think of it other than as an inconvenience. But ice skates changed all of that. I was no less fragile, no less vulnerable, and the truce was still there. But with ice skates, something more was there as well. With ice skates I connected, I really connected to the fabulous, terrible, wonderful ‘Outside.’

I haven’t lived with deep edgy winters for a long time now. But every winter, when we get what little snow we do get here in south England, I think about ice skates. No, I don’t want to go to an indoor rink with piped-in music. That’s really not what it’s all about for me. For me, ice skates were for outside in the darkest harshest months of winter, on a frozen river or a frozen pond whenever possible. Ice Skates were the beginning for me, and after ice skates, well I’ve never really been the same.

Since I can’t give everyone ice skates to celebrate Blissemas, I’ll do the next best thing and give away a choice of a  PDF copy of either of my novels, The Initiation of Ms Holly, or The Pet Shop. Comment to win. All comments will be entered in the draw for the fabulous grand prize kindle at the end of Blissemas festivities.  Don’t miss out.