Lady Pandorah’s Sanctuary of Sensuality

After just over a year of being Pill free I can now confirm I am back on the synthetic hormone wagon! I’m very much anticipating more spontaneous sexy moments now. I think Mister was starting to get tired of the break in the momentum each time we had to stop to locate my bag to get out a condom. I know I was finding it tedious. Then there’s the moment afterwards with its removal…there’s good icky, and then there’s bad icky. These times were always the latter for us. Gave us something to giggle at though! Doesn’t take much for me to start giggling.

I was really beginning to miss the times, especially in the mornings, when Mister would sidle up behind me and we’d have some very nice sleepy sex. So I can’t wait for that to start again. Whilst it was all very interesting playing the ‘Which day will it fall on this month?’ game, I quite fancy being able to pin down the exact time I will have my girly week. Oh, that’s another thing! I am also looking forward to not having 7 day-long abstinences from Mister!! Nightmare! For some reason, being off the Pill has prolonged these monthly visits.

Also, it will be a welcome return to not being so paranoid at Tom and Harry’s friend’s proximity to my lady garden (Alright, the euphemisms are getting tired too). I want to embrace his intimate closeness with me, not to be worried about the consequences of it. The only consequences I want to be left with is a blissed out feeling and a fuzziness in my tummy from a good seeing to.

With all that in mind, I finally got round to seeing the smiley lady doctor yesterday - what is it about an older woman giving you sex/contraception advice that is oddly reassuring when they’re so mumsy? - and took my first one today. So next week when I have the time off I badly need at the moment, I am going to have some lovely reconnecting time with him and hopefully welcome a return to spontaneous friskiness.

Also known as ‘Bucket-Loads of Sex’

Yay.

~ Finally, the third and final part of my exploration into erotica. Refresh your memories with Part I and Part II. This is a little longer than the first two visits into fiction, but I hope you won’t tail off and your attention is retained! ~

‘I want to make you scream tonight, scream out like you never have before.’ She stood over him with the belt in her hand and slowly began to raise it above her head.

In an instant, he heard the leather sweep down and strike the outer part of his thigh. It made him wince, his legs drew up and his mouth opened in shock. It wasn’t all that stingy; she could have been meaner and really let loose, but the initial impact had had its effect. She could see the top of his forehead above the red silk scarf crinkle in a grimace she was sure was echoed in his covered eyes. Immediately she countered this welt with a soft kiss in the same spot. She wanted to show him she wasn’t completely twisted. And that she could be softened, if he gave her the right response.

‘Just the one to begin with, my love,’ she muffled into his skin as she soothed it with her soft lips. He wasn’t quite sure if she was referring to the strike or the kiss. One thing was certain, however, and that was the fact he did not know what to expect next. He felt his girl move away from his tensed body and heard a rustling from somewhere in the bedroom. He took this opportunity to test his blindfold. Shifting slightly in his seat to not attract her attention, he raised a corner of the scarf so one blue eye could slowly take in the view. Bent over the side table, his girl was peering into her bag. Her seamed stockings looks truly delicious when seen from behind, the lines leading up to her perfectly formed arse. It made his mouth water at the delights that lay between those legs, and, not to spoil her fun, replaced the blindfold for the time being. A metallic clink became audible, along with a ripple of material. 

Several questions were running through his head in the moment he heard the unmistakable sound of his lighter. ‘Candles. She’s lighting candles.’ The familiar petrol smell wafted to his nose momentarily, informing him she was close at hand at least.

‘Got you guessing, have I?’ She spoke in that low, almost growl-like voice of hers when she is in a mischievous mind. He was about to answer her when he felt a curious warming sensation at his elbow. Not enough to be uncomfortable at first, but it increased in temperature quickly. He gasped as he realised it was a candle flame. ‘What the…!’ was all he managed to get out before being met full on with a kiss. As quickly as the kiss was brought on, the heat dissipated and she chuckled lightly into his mouth.

Their mouths moved together slowly, deeply. The girl placed the candle she had been toying with on the side table as she moved her hands over his chest, up to his face, cradling his head, drawing him to her. Fingers entwined in his hair and she let escape a murmured moan. Almost with a sigh, he replied. She was straddling him now, her underwear the only barrier between the pair. His arms sprung into action as they swept up her back into her long dark hair. Knowing how this made her melt and not wanting to relinquish her hold over him just yet, she quickly moved them back down her body, to her breasts. No man in his right mind would want to argue with that choice. Without his sight, he felt his way softly around the outer-edges of her breasts, where they were ever-so slightly more sensitive, lightly brushing his fingertips over the warm skin. He reached in, under her bra to find her nipples nicely aroused. She saw his involuntary smile and knew his thoughts. Moving down his neck, her tongue traced a line from his jaw to his chest. A nail followed to make sure his senses weren’t softened. Only gently, though. A small reminder not to be lured into a false sense of security.

She reached over to the side table where she had lain out some of the contents of her bag. Not all of them would be used, but ‘Be Prepared’ she thought. Her hand darted over the items, fingers dancing past the handcuffs, the tassly whip. ‘Oh, the fun we’ll have later on!’ She spoke, half to herself. He heard the almost childlike glee in her tone. Was she going to use the whip, after all? Or just her nails? He was answered not with another stinging response, but a soft, glistening hand. A scent of Ylang Ylang passed up to his face and he inhaled the massage oil as it was applied to his skin.

He adored this oil. They both did. Not only was the scent divine, but it was the best in a line of massage oils they owned and had experimented with. A truly sensual aroma encircled the two of them now, each inhaling the intoxicating scent arousing the senses. She too was becoming giddy with the oil and lost in the action of massaging the skin on his torso. Almost hypnotically her arms were moving lower towards his hips, thighs and his beautifully lengthened shaft. Her concentration was being drawn away from his actions as she focused on her movements. She never noticed the blindfold being slipped from his eyes, still knotted.

He caught her unawares by jolting upright suddenly in the chair, bringing her face to face, eye to eye. The pair stared at each other. She in mock-shock at the escape. He with the defiant glare of an untethered hound. In one movement, he stood up and moved her roughly against the nearest wall. This was what she had been waiting for all along. How far would he submit before rebelling and breaking free? She smiled at him, one eyebrow raised in satisfaction. He held her hands together in one of his as he removed her blue bra, slipping the straps down her slender arms before sliding down to remove her French knickers. Kissing the still stockinged legs as he worked his way back up to her. He gently licked the inside of her thighs above the stockingtop seams, knowing it would make her shiver. Inches away from her waiting pussy, he resisted. For now.

As she hooked her left leg over his hip to ease their movement into one another she clawed his back, only lightly - the tingling sensation timed perfectly to the first inward thrust of his cock. They savoured the initial feeling as they always did every time they made love. The heel of her foot pressed in against his soft flesh, anchoring herself to him, pressing him deeper inside. He placed his head into her neck and nipped playfully as he began to move, each thrust pinning her to the wall, hair becoming dishevelled against it.

‘I’ll… make you a deal,’ he managed to say in between increasingly ragged breaths. ‘How about… I make you scream first,’ he continued, ‘Before we… worry about me?’

‘H..honey,’ she replied breathlessly, ‘That’s all I ever wanted… you only had to speak up for yourself.’

Their pace quickened, and his hand snaked down between them to her heated sex and began his favourite past-time - bringing his girl everything she wanted.

And more.

‘She that makes me sin awards me pain’ update!

I’ve finally got round to writing the third part of my fictional fantasy. I’m in the process of editing it and will post it up as soon as possible. To refresh your memories, go visit the previous entries.

Part One

Part Two

Isn’t lovely when things happen on Fridays to make you feel that the weekend is going to be just wonderful? It has been a very hectic week in my world for lots of reasons. But the week has subsequently ended on a massive high.

1. We’re trying to get round to finalising the car business - paperwork, insurance - all that dull but essential stuff. As soon as I get an envelope and stamp I can officially start calling it m…our car. Yes, our car, that’t it. But it’s practically mine. Well, alright I can’t actually drive it yet - Some big deal with not having had lessons yet, but being my sister’s old car I am sure you would agree that by inheritance, it is my car. Even though Mister will be doing most of the driving. And will be staying at his place. Hmm, maybe I have issues.

2. Today marks the fifth anniversary of our first date together. Where Mister took me out for a meal to a pub and managed to get 50% discount as he worked there. Such a prudent lad. Money conscious - a good thing in a man (until it comes to buying pressies for Pandorah, bien sur). Five years ago today we shared our first kiss in a crowded town nightclub. It was initialised by my friend who dared us into it. Bless her. Love her to pieces. Always thinking of me.

3. The final point of celebration has come out of the blue, really. My course has been so hectic since starting in September, it has steadily been increasing in pressure and momentum in the last few weeks. Assignment deadlines, the continuous planning I have to do as well as the actual practical side to the course. On top of all this I have had to be in the process of job hunting. Looking round teh interweb for advertisements on the special websites they have for my profession and sending off letters of application to various parts of the Westcountry. I don’t want to go too far, you see. Family and Mister issues mainly. I had one interview a couple of months ago, but as my other sister said (I have many), ‘It must not have been for you for a reason’. I think she has precognisant powers now. Because I can officially announce, after a whirlwind week…

I has a job!

Whoooooop! I only applied on Tuesday. They rang me within 24 hours on Wednesday inviting me to an interview on Friday. I’ve never rushed around so quickly in my life! I am so thrilled, it’s a fabulous location for the position and I really can’t wait to start as a proper real life and everythink professional Pandorah lady.

I just have to make it through the next four weeks to the end of my course. Sorted.

Five.

The number that is most reflective to me this evening. It is the number of fingers on the hands I love to interlock with my own. Fingers that know my body so well. How to stroke, caress. How to hold. How to tickle. The tactile nature of those individual digits. How they become a hug when joined by arms around my back; over my shoulders. Holding my face in the palms stemming from the fingers. Bringing my face to yours in holy palmer’s kiss.

Five.

The number of toes on each foot. Feet I hold with care in my hands, teasing out the stresses of a day’s tension captured within. Starting with your toes I move my way up your body massaging every centimetre. Five toes connected to one of your most sensitive areas. The soles of your feet. Even a light tap of my little finger can send you jumping in shivers. Of delight? Of shock? Both I hope.

Five.

Five years today since we first met properly and had a confusing, repeated conversation in a club over terrible and loud music. Since you insulted the my love of Shakespeare to my face. Five years since our first and only true argument (that is still on-going by the way). No, Shakespeare is not crap. It is beautiful. It is Everyman’s literature.

Five.

The number of years we shall celebrate next weekend of being a pair, a couple, boyfriend and girlfriend. You and Me. Mister and Pandorah. Five years since our first date after the tireless effort you put into chasing me. After the waiting in a bar for a young, innocent and timid girl who never showed due to her nervousness of meeting up with a guy she hardly knew. Five years of me being grateful to you for persevering with that timid girl, knowing she would be worth the hassle and frustration of going after.

Five.

Five years since I discovered for myself the reason for fairytales, romances of trashy novels, poetry, song. That fluttering butterfly was awakened five years ago. She still floats a little higher each time she sees you. Each time she thinks about you, dreams about you.

Five.

Five years I soon will have spent having traversed the stage of adult mischief and naughtiness. Five years of nocturnal fun and daytime bliss in bed with you. Five years since that innocent and timid girl grew her wings and began to soar up to the dizzying heights of fragile happiness, holding your hand all that way. Knowing how precious it is up there. Five years soon since that innocent girl lost her innocence. She bit that apple and wanted more. And you handed her a whole bushel.

Five.

A number I can reflect on this evening. A number that sits comfortably in my head. A number I relate with happiness.

Well, not the Pimms - but plenty of cloudy lemonade. That just screams sunshine and summer lazy picnics. Jolly hockey sticks optional.

The British Spring has surpassed itself over the last week or so. With just a minor blip on Thursday night (it’s overnight - I love to listen to the rain whilst I fall asleep) we’ve had some pretty spectacular hot heat and blissful rays of sun. As I type, I currently have the remnants of beach on the outskirts of my feet from a sandy afternoon spent in the company of friends and Mister and a barbecue. What more could I ask for?

(Apart from having the security of knowing I have a job at the end of my course and all my planning have been miraculously done by wonderful little pixies - but alas, no luck there)

The heat does strange things to people. It makes Mister want to swim half a mile in the still freezing cold Atlantic sea. It makes people either a) more energetic and sporty (I actually partook in a game of beach rounders today) or b) incredibly lethargic. It also makes me that extra bit frisky. Sun and warmth = smiley happy Pandorah. A smiley happy Pandorah = a visibly more playful and frisky one. It’s a common equation in the world.

I am now scheming away in my twisted little head various plots and conspiracies involving the pair of us and lots of hay fields, secluded beaches and woods as well as hot, sweaty nights together. It’s our five year anniversary next weekend, and if the weather holds out I’m planning on some al fresco naughtiness. Maybe. Hopefully. Tantalisingly.

I’ve noticed that my witterings on here have started to become a little sparse. Partially because I have had little time to spend here as many others are finding - end of the academic year and it’s a manic rush to the finish line. Thank goodness I have no exams to revise for this time, but still the pressure is certainly mounting. Job applications are piling up. Well. Not so much piling up as there doesn’t appear to be as many jobs as everyone kept promising. More fluttering down once in a while.

Still. Only 25 working weekdays left until I qualify. Scary scary. The countdown is ticking. After that and I shall be free for the summer to enjoy my time and learn to drive. Me and Mister have just upped the commitment factor - we’ve bought a car together. Now it’s getting properly serious!

I apologise for the rambling in this post. Just had to air some thoughts of the past weekend. More of the usual smut and debauchery soon. Promise.

It’s sharing time with LadyP. Or TMI time. One of the two. Or a comfortably uneasy mixture of both. You decide. At any rate I thought I would finally get round to showing off some the contents of our Box. Yep that’s right, not only is there Hope in this Pandorah’s Box, there’s also a whole lot of Kink. Whoo!

For starters, here’s some pictures of possibly my favourite thing to play with when Mister is around. My red, silky scarf. Mmm. The other night involved me tying him to my coat-hooks on my room door. His suggestion. He shows such ingenuity like that.

I was going to make it look all lovely and neat by ironing it for all you lovely people. But then I thought it would stand better as it was with all the creases and knot remnants from previous encounters. This scarf not only looks beautiful, it holds well once tied. Providing not only with a pretty image of Mister or myself but also the secure knowledge he/I won’t be able to wriggle out of it easily. Consequently, being silky/satiny it feels so sensuous. From the moment it coolly first touches your skin as it slips over your body it arouses the pleasure receptors.

I am in love with the embroidery as well:

I wonder if The Seamstress would like it? There’s a blend of silky as well as cotton threaded embroidery here. Which if tied appropriately can begin to press into the wrists quite nicely. I found this little treasure in Accessorize a few years back with the express intention of using it to tie up my beloved Mister. And be tied of course. I have a few other scarves which I use, a thin purple pashmina and a pure silk one (not too keen on that one, it looks too raggedy).

Gosh, don’t I sound like a total snob? Silk, Satin, Pashmina. Still, they do the job, whatever they’re made from. They do the job very well indeed.

I always worry if I tie them too tightly, not wanting him to escape, but it seems he doesn’t mind about this at all. Once or twice I’ve managed to set myself free; that’s fun - quashing his knot-skills all of a sudden. Hehe.

I won’t ever tire of the tying. They’re so versatile. Bedposts/Headboard posts, Chairs, Doors; I think I even tied him to a radiator pipe once (there was no-where else to tie him. *Honest*).

And the binding is just the start of my fun…

A nice little Meme I found on Ms Hansen’s blog. Hope she doesn’t mind me namedropping.

I’m always curious to know what other people are reading. I have a similar curiosity when on the bus to know what music other people are listening to. I always wonder if anyone is listening to the same singer or band as me.

What Are You Reading?

The Rules:

1. Pick up the nearest book.

2. Open to page 123.

3. Find the fifth sentence.

4. Post the next three sentences.

5. Tag a few people.

So, here goes:

1. I have a myriad of books nearby, so I find the nearest one to me from my bookshelves. John Keats - The Complete Poems. Typically all my naughty books are squirrelled away from prying eyes at Uni, and now I am at the parents’ house this weekend I have no naughty books to hand. Even my Sarah Waters novels are not here. They’re also not at Uni. I think I lent them to someone and have never had them returned, all three of them. *Sob!* I do have The Nightwatch, but still haven’t read it. Bad habit of mine - buying new books and then forgetting or not having the time to read them. Terribly shameful thing to say.

2. Page 123 - Ooh, it’s part of the poem, “Endymion”, you know, that one that has the famous opening line of “A thing of beauty is a joy forever”. A lovely pastoral.

3. Fifth sentence - “Speak, stubborn earth, and tell me where, O where / Hast thou a symbol of her golden hair?” Ahh, a blonde.

4. Next three sentences - “Not oat-sheaves drooping in the western sun; / Not - thy soft hand, fair sister! Let me shun / Such follying before thee - yet she had, / Indeed, locks bright enough to make me mad; / And they were gordianed up and braided, Leaving in naked comeliness, unshaded, / Her pearl-round ears, white neck, and orbéd brow”. Technically not three sentences, but the rest of this sentence goes on for about ten more lines. So I’ll stop there. Now isn’t that lovely? Such fecundity in his poetry. I do adore Keats. I am quite taken by the concept of a man being driven mad by just the sight of a girl’s hair all tied up (gordianed - as in Gordian Knot). Men seem to have a thing for naked necked ladies. We find this attraction famously put to good use in the Geisha of Japan with their elaborate hairstyles and the painting of the nape of the neck.

Maybe I should have chosen a prose book. But I am so taken by poetry. Especially Keats. One of my favourite Romantics.

5. I tag Lacestockings, Blacksilk and The Oxford Seamstress, if they are game. Plus, anyone else who fancies joining in. No pressure. I’m just being nosey. If you have a naughty book nearby, give that a go.

Tagged again. By the marvellous Blacksilk. Ta luv.

But I’m not answering all the questions. I don’t even know who Peter North is. I don’t do porn. Erotica, muchly yes, yes, yes. Not so much with the moving photographs, no.

* Sex in the morning or sex at night?

Personally, I prefer sex whenever I am having it. Time is not really much of an issue. But I guess morning and night-time sex both have their individual benefits. Night-time is always great as you have that mindset that you have all night to roll around together. On the other hand, morning mischief is superb on Weekends. Plus I kinda like the whole sleepy, just-woken-up sex. Whenever I’ve spent the night with Mister, without fail I’m horny in the morning and could quite easily be talked into it.

* Naughty pics or Naughty Home Video?

Naughty pics. For some reason, unless it’s a well-produced (i.e. expensive) film with sex in, moving porn doesn’t seem to flick my switch. I am alone? I do wonder. We’ve had our fair share of sending mobile phone pics to eachother - Some we’ve done together, others alone (Mister showing me the results of *thinking of me* and some taken myself in the shower getting all soapy. That was fun taking pics and trying not to break my phone with water damage!)

* Vibrator or Dildo?

A vibrating dildo. Cheers, Thank-you, Come again. Oh yes please.

* Bedroom sex - Lights on/off?

Lights on. I want to see what I do to my man. And I love to see what he’s doing to me. But I must say I prefer low-lighting. Once I’m all riled up and hot, my eyes get quite sensitive to bright lights for some reason. Ultimately, I adore how bodies look in candlelight. All blemishes disappear and the warm glow from the candles is so soothing. Plus - candlewax play. Mmm. Lights off is nice though. Especially if we’ve gone to sleep tired with the intention of going to sleep *honest* and sex just, you know, kinda happens.

* Word preference - pussy or cunt?

Pussy. Cunt for cursing. I curse well with cunt. I’m such a politely spoken gal, that when that flies out with venom, I do pull it off well. So says I. But pussy for sex.

* Spanking over the knee, or Spanking only during sex?

Now, Mister is a very keen spanker. Very Keen. He does it all the time. I love it. He knows I love it, therefore, he does it all the time. Deliciously vicious circle. I have my fair share of dealing it out too. I can’t reisit that arse of his. My palms, fingertips, nails are drawn to it. I think we did the over the knee thing once. It was fun, but I guess I prefer it during sex. It spurs both of us on.

* Word preference - cock or dick?

Cock. Dick sounds a bit American-y for LadyP. Not that that is a bad thing - American ladies sound good when they say it (Demi Moore in Disclosure for example)

* Rope Bondage or Bondage Tape?

Rope, Rope, Rope! I’m looking into getting some of that lovely looking rope and experimenting with knots. Mister quite hankers after tying my legs down/open. So I might just let him. We had a lovely evening last night with my beautiful red silky scarf. Mister standing up, naked, tied to my coathangers on the back of my door. *Growls* He is so beautiful when he’s tied up. His eyes just sparkle!

* Which Threesomes? Boy/Girl/Girl or Boy/Boy/Girl

Probably B/G/G as I wouldn’t mind exploring the side to me that is attracted to girls. But I’d want to have Mister there. Trouble is, this won’t be happening any time soon which I’m more than happy about. Mister doesn’t like sharing. And boys scare me. So, girls it is.

* Sex while strangers watch or Sex with a stranger.

The former. I’m a right old exhibitionist secretly. Mister often chastises me about walking about with nothing, or next to nothing on with my curtains open.

* Tied to the bed or Tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross?

Again, the former. Tried and tested and adored. But, I wouldn’t mind trying out the old Cross one day. Like I said, he’d love to get me totally bound and restricted.

Ahh…All over. I didn’t answer them all as I didn’t want to Plus some of them I couldn’t answer due to not having experienced all the said acts. Hey ho. Enjoy.

I am not tagging anyone. So there.

Today has been tough.

Hard day was had today at work. Yesterday was fine and dandy. I even felt more energetic despite not returning until 6:40pm. Usually I am whacked out from my day - on the go from 6:45am until 5pm practically - but Monday was a Good Day.

Today was not. Alot was achieved, planning wise. But putting it into practice in the afternoon, not so triumphant. Well, at least it was better than last Tuesday. That was horrific.

Rollercoaster Course. Seriously. Ups and Downs galore. My insides are churned regularly with the loops they go through. I feel sick somedays, and my heart sinks. But the highs are wonderful and make it all worth it. I am so thrilled and exhilarated after a Good Day, and it makes the Downs seem not so bad. After all, the bumps will work themselves out at some point. I hope. I still have Hope in my box.

Finger’s crossed for a better rest of the week.

And on the plus side, only about 33 working weekdays until I qualify. Something to smile about.

Also, it’s our Five Year Anniversary in two weeks’ time. More of that to follow. Mister reminded me today during my emotional phonecall (Tuesday Pandorah feelings again - You know how these days are). He always has something up his sleeve to cheer me up when I least expect it or feel I can’t be cheered up.

I love that man. I’d be a broken Pandorah without him and probably have quit the course months ago. He keeps me going.

Keeping a weather eye on the horizon where the sunset lies at the end of this seemingly everlasting day