Lady Pandorah's Sanctuary of Sensuality

Firstly, may I offer up my very humble apologies to the wonderful people at Vibrator.com and their multitude of sex toys for their infinite patience for the time it has taken me to get to grips with this product review. I’ve had this rather intriguing item about my lodgings for a little while, but unfortunately my workload recently has rather taken the toll in relation to my kink enjoyment.

Luckily, last night the perfect opportunity arose for us to give the Fetish Fantasy Series Tilt Master a really good testing session. But first, the preliminaries.

I always like to consider toys that both Mister and I can use together. I’m considerate that way. Our previous choice, the door-cuffs were a perfect choice for that purpose and they are among my favourite playthings. So when Vibrator.com were gracious enough to allow another item to be reviewed, we jumped at looking to finding a similar decision. When we came across this item, Mister’s eyes lit up. The image as you see here is great fun and when we unwrapped the package the box itself has some interesting positions to whet your appetite with and to act as inspiration for your own antics.

The product itself is termed as piece of inflatable sex furniture. A sex chair!!! Great! I thought, What a perfect way to comfortably screw around outside of the bedroom! Yes, my mind does occasionally work like that. You should hear what Mister had to say. Sure, the sofa is a brilliant place for impromptu sex, and the possibilities of the bathroom get my mind in a whir, but the Tilt Master seemed to be a perfect all rounder.

When it arrived, it was packaged discretely and with care as you come to expect from Vibrator.com. I also love the little personal touch of the packets of lube and company stickers inside too. This time there were some ‘his ‘n hers’ heating and tingling sachets. I’ve garnered quite a collection of the stickers now, and I really want to do something with them. Any thoughts? Send ideas in on a Comment Page!  

When we took out the deflated product, what struck us was the time it would potentially take to inflate. If you consider this item, I would also recommend that you have an electrical pump too. I do, but the batteries were dead at the time. And so unfolded half an hour (yes, 30 whole minutes) of huffing and puffing from myself and Mister. A joint effort. This little point aside, as it inflated, it began to take shape. The material is like suede, soft and velvety. It picks up dust quite easily as a result – as I found out from storing it under the bed for that moment when we could use it. Probably just a sign I should vacuum more often…

Once inflated, it takes on an elongated crescent-shaped and has two handles on either side for leverage. It’s a good size, just under a metre in width and half a metre high I would imagine, if fully inflated.

Tip: don’t fully inflate it.

Mister and I are not the largest of people, average I would say, and I’m a relatively little person. Yet, this Tilt Master is prone to gaining punctures easily. After our first try-out session (Mister, being quite enticed by the thing, receiving a lovely blow-job from yours truly) we noticed its first deflation occur. The chair comes with a puncture kit, and after using it properly only twice, it’s gained a couple of major punctures along the seams that the kit wouldn’t cover if you used this frequently.

I did find that it’s rather useful for easing a sore back after a long hard day’s work, however. And it makes me smile to see it there – my Sex Space Hopper of sorts.

Last night, we had a real chance to test it fully, with different positions and all. Saturday night and a bottle and a half of wine downed between us (drink responsibly, guys and gals…!) we were in perfect shape to use it. Add in a little thunder and lightning and the atmosphere was electric (<– see what I did there? I know, I’m rubbish at jokes). The lights went off in our living room and as I went to collect our little friend in a foil wrapper, we both took the moment to get a little naked. As our eyes adjusted to the moonlight, I could begin to pick out his features. The odd flash of lightning adding to the dramatic mood. We had previously played a game the winner of which would get to ‘receive’ some sexy time on the chair. I lost as usual when I place a bet against him, so Mister was placed ready and waiting for my return to the room.

Mister found it worked quite well for its temporary purpose as a means to get my lips round him. Being as I am, I was quite drawn to the fact my knees were rubbing against the coarse carpet as I knelt down. When it came to straddling him, however, the width of the thing was just a little too wide for my legs, but it was still fun trying to find the right angle.

We hadn’t inflated the chair too fully as we knew what would happen if we did, and so the slight give it had made it very comfortable as it moulds to your body shape. Soon it was my turn to feel the benefits of the chair and Mister had a grand time instructing me to bend over it, face down as well as with my back to it. The handles were just right for levering myself against him to boot.

Unfortunately, the amount of time we had been using it for had taken its toll and I found myself sinking into the chair as it slowly deflated around me. It was hard to stay still and eventually we had to give up and resort to a more stable bed to seal the wager properly between us.

This has been a mixed review and sums up our experience of the chair. The concept is brilliant and the dimensions of the Tilt Master allow it to be suitable for lots of experimentation. Added to the fact it’s inflatable is that it can be easily stowed away for safe-keeping.

On the downside, however, the time it takes to inflate is far too long – even with a battery-powered inflator it took a good 15-20mins of supervised time – in case the nozzle disconnected itself. The material isn’t dust-friendly and it is very prone to punctures.

I really want to recommend the Tilt Master, and I can see us using it again when we have a lot of free time to ourselves. But if you yourselves are wishing to try out sexy, imaginative and fun furniture in your sex life, I may suggest you look to spending the relatively considerable price tag on something a little more reliable and durable.

Enjoying, as I do, lurking about in the depths of my own mind, delving into the possibilities I could turn my actions to with Mister, I also like to ask readers who drop by here from time to time to share their souls with me too. Or rather, tit for tat basically!

If you’re new to the blog, I occasionally set out a question I invite you to respond to in my Comments Section of this post. Of course, I share my reflections as well and we all have a jolly good time revealing information about ourselves. In return for your contribution, do ask me a question of your very own! If you are a newcomer, or a regular (*wave!*) and want to find out a little more about little old Lady P that won’t compromise my Super Secret Identity, go ahead and ask away! I like to respond in the Comments Section – it’s friendly there. It’s all very kind-natured at heart. If that heart had a sultry, kinky or exhibitionist side to it. So – here’s my question, do please feel free to add your thoughts after reading what I have on offer and don’t forget to add your own question – they have led at times to inspire a post of its own.

What sexual conquest has made you feel proud of your achievement and why?

When I think back of my sexual conquests…of Mister…yeah – having the one partner, you may consider I don’t have too much to say. Not so. Yes, he’s the only man I’ve been with, in every way that entails, but that isn’t to say I don’t consider him not to be included as a ‘conquest’. Interesting term that, ‘conquest’. You may know, I’m a lover of language and words and I read meanings into most things and so conquest contains notions of a hurdle to be overcome, a battle won or, in my case for this purpose – a challenge accepted and met with.

Mental barriers can hold you back in so many ways, and of course the psychology of sexual behaviour is no exception. Not that I want to get all psycho-babble on you or anything. If you have been lurking around for a while, you may also know that I’m one for Switching, but mostly playing to the submissive side of things. It’s a natural inclination for me – partly in reaction or acting as a personal counter to my professional position at work - as I have discussed before if you want further details about what it is I so fall for in terms of my kink. In any case, I think that the acceptance of my predilections has been my greatest sexual conquest.

Still today, people consider being ‘led’ into behaving like the meek, helpless and powerless and traditionally viewed feminine sexually submissive role is something to break away from. To an extent it is – no one wants to pigeon-hole people and force them into a corner they can’t escape from, it’s against our basic human desire for choice. But if you choose to place yourself in that position, fully acknowledging the implications, understanding the reasons why you want to take yourself into that place, for me, it is kind of freeing, tension-relieving. You have that control over a choice you make. I’m not one for ‘Feminism’ with a capital ‘F’. That F can go Fiddle itself for all its lack of equality that the concept has become. Male-bashing – and not in the good sense! – is what a perfectly alright idea has been warped into. I, again, won’t go into details as other writers discuss this with more intellectual capacity in the area than I have, as I will digress from my initial intentions – sexual conquest and why I view my lovely love and desire and need for being submissive as being one.

It’s a mental conquest, yes. It’s a social conquest too. A deeply personal conquest, of course. I guess, then, that my greatest sexual conquest is in fact…myself. Huh. Interesting where things lead you. I hope to see where you are led in return and don’t forget to add your own question!!

Why, hello there. I appear to be located with this list. I am entirely thankful and flattered for Rori at Between My Sheets who opened up the suggestions to fellow writers to compile a Top 100 Sex Bloggers List of 2009. That I came in at number 38 is down to the other writers and readers of sex blogs listed below with their careful and considerate ponderings, so my gratitude goes out to them as well -

Within the list there are some familiar names. The others I hope to get more familiar with in the near future. Hopefully this will act as a boost to get me back into regular blogging mode!

The  Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2009:

1. Coquitten (website)
2. Alexa (website)
3. AAG (website)
4. Bad, Bad Girl (website)
5. TBK (website)
6. Mistress Matisse (website)
7. Miss Mia (website)
8. Thursday’s Child (website)
9. Roger (website)
10. Sinclair (website)
11. Sylvanus…
12. and Mina (website)
13. Natt Nightly (website)
14. Jake (website)
15. Lyn (website)
16. Adriana Ravenlust (website)
17. Sexy Sadie (website)
18. Shay (website)
19. Lilly (website)
20. Nadia (website)
21. Joan Price (website)
22. Madison (website)
23. Anal Amy (website)
24. Z (website)
25. Essin Em (website)
26. Easily Aroused (website)
27. Blacksilk (website)
28. Sleeping Dreamer (website)
29. Melen…
30. and rayne…
31. and Master KKT…
32. and cinnamon (website)
33. That Toy Chick (website)
34. Red (website)
35. Tom Allen (website)
36. Vix (website)
37. Coy Pink (website)
38. Lady Pandorah (website)
39. BackseatBoohoo (website)
40. Epiphora (website)
41. Aurore (website)
42. Miss KissThis (website)
43. Storm (website)
44. Ron Jazz (website)
45. Josie Jacobs (website)
46. Distracted (website)
47. Deviant Dyke (website)
48. Joanna Cake (website)
49. Sapphire Jay (website)
50. Sarah (website)
51. Kimberly (website)
52. Duchess (website)
53. Figleaf (website)
54. The Caged Songbird (website)
55. Kaya (website)
56. Ms. Justine (website)
57. Luka (website)
58. Ang (website)
59. Perverted Negress (website)
60. Harlot (website)
61. Vixen (website)
62. Anakan…
63. and Padme (website)
64. Wilhemina (website)
65. Axe (website)
66. Amber (website)
67. Lucy Vonne (website)
68. Rogue (website)
69. SSS (website)
70. Kyle (website)
71. Amorous Rocker (website)
72. Sera (website)
73. Lolita Wolf (website)
74. Elle (website)
75. Scarlet St Syr (website)
76. Charlotte Thorpe (website)
77. An Unassuming Girl (website)
78. Maymay (website)
79. True Pleasure (website)
80. Bad Influence Girl (website)
81. Diva (website)
82. Raven Quince (website)
83. Autumn (website)
84. Vanilla Impaired (website)
85. Wil (website)
86. Robin (website)
87. Panthera Pardus (website)
88. Ell (website)
89. Miss Communication…
90. and Captain Pants…
91. and A.E. (website)
92. Roxy (website)
93. Secretly Naughty (website)
94. Abby Williams (website)
95. Subheart (website)
96. Sequoia Redd (website)
97. Innocent Loveboy (website)
98. Liljgrrl…
99. and Nawa*G (website)
100. YOU! As always that last person on the list is you. Please, please, please leave a comment below promoting your own blog (or the blog of someone you love). Links are welcome, as long as they lead us to a sex-related blog, not a retail website or porn aggregation site.

At last! I have found something truly worth the title of Pervertible!

You’ve been there, I suppose. At a festival perhaps. Most likely you’ve come across them in a nightclub. Or, as I discovered this week, at that time of year when you’re out and about in the evening with friends or family and you are given one to deposit about your person. But what do you do with Glow Sticks once you have finished with them, I hear you say! Bring them into the bedroom, of course!

Wishing for some soft lighting to illuminate your loved one in just that level of low brightness that offers such compliments to any body type? You may ordinarily use candlelight to do your bidding, but what if you are out of enough wax to carry forth your wishes? Or it could be that the pale, white-yellow light is so passé. After a little colour in your nighttime frolics? Well, then, Glow Sticks might just be the ticket!

From Deviant Art

 

How about using a clutch of them dotted around the room to provide just that amplitude of phosphorescence required!

I found that the variety of neon colours were perfect for adding some extra depth to what were our already scarlet desires. After the electric lights had been extinguished, I turned over in bed to see the remains of our Glow Sticks shining brightly in a corner of the room. Instead of hurling something over them to drown out the light, I reached out for a band and drew it nearer. We had been given those very thin ones that come in bendy sticks and can be linked together by a connecting piece of plastic. I quite enjoyed the subtle highlighting of our features by the light that was shed. I found it to be akin to the brightness of moonlight shining on the skin, but in a lovely shade of rose. Or green, purple, yellow, orange… Holding the band, I ran it over his skin up to highlight his face, smiling - as I discovered.

Why not try playing a sexy game of Hoopla with the rounded bands?!

Yeah…that was fun. The plastic is light enough to not cause major bruising to delicate skin if thrown from close range. I like to smile as often as I can when being with Mister, and playing Cock Hoopla was a brilliant invention on my part, I consider. We giggled as I missed, and cheered when I got the bullseye…or wait, wrong game… Mister then put me to shame with his much better aim.

Like Cock-Rings? Then you’ll love a glow in the dark version!

Well, we didn’t actually go as far as to constrict Mister’s balls through one of the bracelet/bands, but I can definitely see the potential there. What I did do was to run the band over and over the tip and head of his penis before I enhanced this with my more pleasant feeling fingers.

Give your partner help with their sense of direction when the lights are out!

I know… I’m starting to lose the idea a bit now… But I’m having fun. I created a ‘landing platform’ for his tongue to be guided to my nipples. Yep. I placed a glowing bracelet over my breast. Like I say, the light illuminates body parts most effectively.

Cheap, fun and definitely worth a try. I am sure I’m not the first to suggest this, but give it a go next time you come back and find some glow sticks about your person. You’ll see a smile at least, I can guarantee that.

Birthdays. A special occasion. Time to treat your nearest and dearest slightly better than your usual caring fare.

So I did nothing.

Yes, you read that correctly. Nothing. It was his birthday this week and I spoilt him rotten by lying on my back not doing very much. Well, I might have squirmed slightly. Wriggled and twisted amidst the linen. Grasped at the sheets and clutched at his hair, shoulders and tenderly dug in my nails at one or two points that night.

It was his choice of treat, and so he chose something he enjoys deliriously. As you may have guessed, he went down on me. He could have chosen a full body massage; copious amounts of fellatio; being tied and mistreated, but no – he went for something altogether altruistic. I mean, it can’t be all that good being stifled under a duvet for half an hour or however long it was – I lost track of time – as well as being in a hunched position, awkward angle and so on. Although he did seem to get a bit…ah…how to put it…inebriated by me.

It was amusing, he began as though he was appreciating a fine wine. Taking in the ‘bouquet’, as it were. He slunk his way down my body, kissing as he went, of course. Pausing at my belly button, which always makes me nervous, as it’s highly ticklish, he then stopped at his destination and took in the sights. He hungrily stared at my pussy. That’s an immediate arousal point. My man looking at me with ideas of vulgarity, does it every time.

Admittedly, I was already slightly wet from an earlier helping hand (Mister was having a nap), so my scent was heady as it was, and his focused attention now had my pussy well and truly stoked. I was soon moaning and filling the room with my vocal pleasure. Those small, keening calls out to him, developing into sharper yelps, before the shocked, sudden shouts of utter loss of control. They’re the ones we love the best, surely?

With his tongue between my lips, he savoured that which he had helped to create. My wetness was increasing and he was there to appreciate it fully. I like it when he’s happy in his work. Then, oh then – he added his fingers into play. I was so wrapped up in feeling every minute tingle that his gentle tongue delivered, that when he placed the lightest of pressure from his fingers onto my clit…lightening bolt springs to mind. It was electrical. By now I was craving for something, anything to delve inside me – I’m such a one for penetration, my climaxes seem much ‘deeper’, if that makes sense, when there’s something firm within me. Cock, dildo, vibrator or fingers. I find that desperate need to thrash about, bucking my hips to meet whatever it is. Mister’s fingers did the trick fabulously.

When he finally surfaced, and our kiss was mingled with the taste of my arousal and his breathy, forceful bearing down on me I knew it was time to reach over to the side and retrieve that little foil packet. Slipping it over his cock, finally having a semblance of control after he had removed it from me with his restricting advances (he holds me tightly when he’s touching me up – doesn’t want me wriggling away from his intentions), I tried my best to regain my focus as I scrambled on top of him. It was my turn to stare deeply into those blue eyes. My turn to drive the pace of things to my liking. My turn to hold him down, entwining our hands, using it as leverage to grind into him. Placing those hands on my hips, my ass, moving them over my breasts, feeling them clutch the flesh they grasp.

Mister isn’t the only one to know what they like. I have great taste too.

The nights are drawing in, the light fades quickly in the evenings and walking home brings the added joy of kicking through the crackling, crispy russet leaves that are wind-strewn to the ground.

It’s Autumn, and I am warm. Snug in my layers, wrapped up in scarves, gloves, cosy coats. My hair let down to keep my neck and ears that little bit more protected from the cold. The summer, let’s face it, was a let down. The heat and sun was an absent disappointment. I’m placing all my chickens into the Autumn basket. (I have no idea what that metaphor is meant to mean…) Suffice to say, I want to own Autumn this year. This season I shall come in to my own. I don’t want to hibernate.

Over the past few weeks, things in LadyP’s kink closet have been neglected. This week alone, we’ve only had sex once (last night after coming back from tasty Chinese with some friends). That’s not enough for us. We’re used to a fair bit more than that. Admittedly, the work front has made me quite exhausted recently, but luckily I have figured out a way to re-address my priorities. Delegation is a beautiful word. So, with things in place, I have the potential for my focus to fall directly on that man I have kicking around at home, waiting for me always. Throughout all my grumpiness in the evenings (usually at the beginning of the week), he sits there quietly on the other side of the living room, sometimes pattering out tuneful melodies, waiting for me to come back to him after the nasty business of prepping for the next day’s work. We check in with each other intermittently during the evening hours, a quick glance, a smile. But I know that is not fair on him. Not fair on us.

I want to be there with him, for him. Not just there.

As it’s now that lovely time of year when the temperature drops, I think it’s the best excuse opportunity to grab me some close, personal time with Mister, aka Warm Cuddle-Giver. Does that make me a user? Taking advantage? If it is, then I don’t care. Any chance to be next to him - clothed, dehabillé or in a very enjoyable mix between the two – I look forward to it readily.

I always knew he was one of a kind. Special. Unique. I suppose I just never knew how amazing he really is. I shouldn’t take him for granted. Not ever. I now realise he actually has magical powers.

He’s got me enchanted all right. And here’s why: He made me come just through touching my back. Nowhere else.

It was an epiphany! My skin is generally quite sensitive when it comes to touch anyway, but holy hell! I didn’t realise I was that sensitive! I guess I should probably mention that it wasn’t just ‘touching’ my back, but scratching it. He clawed me to orgasm. Again, I knew this was something that will spur me on in the heat of the moment, and pretty much at any point his nails catch  my skin. Again, I didn’t realise prolonged application of nails to skin would result in this conclusion. I love being me.

New discoveries, eye-opening experiences; this sex and relationship malarky is brilliant.

The lights were low and the stage was ready for them. Opening night for a new bar in a certain city I live near. They were the first act. From my vantage point I could see the slow filter of people drifting through the doors. The small dance area glittered from the dancing lights hitting the mirrors on the walls that highlighted the poles. My thoughts nearly strayed to wondering if I would chance upon any ladies taking advantage of those later on, but it wasn’t really that kind of place to warrant pole-dancers. Unfortunately. Although, from my experience, the people I have witnessed use them would have benefitted from knowing at the very least how to use the poles to some degree of co-ordination.

Luckily, my eyes were to be drawn in the opposite direction, glued to a particular spot. Stage-right, bass. It’s one thing to hear him practising without electrification, quite another to hear him plugged in. Part of the unit. My severe attack of the killer sniffles was forgotten for the time being as my attentions were channelled at what I had been waiting for over six years to happen. Mister. On stage. Playing live.

The experience didn’t disappoint. So what if there were a few hiccups; the second song had to be started again and the singer’s vocals were not as audible as they could have been. For me, as I relayed to him afterwards, to see people coming in through the doors and immediately start dancing was a sign of a success. Achievement.

I may not have been able to drag him off stage as I would have dreamed of doing to congratulate him (due to sniffles and tiredness – it was nearly midnight when they ended), when we returned home quite later, I did as well as my broken self could by holding him close to me and saying how happy I was to have witnessed him finally go live.

Thankfully, the next night I had recovered somewhat and the Minx had her turn to congratulate her Rogue. But that’s another animal entirely, and shall be regaled at some point soon!

He was looking at me in a particular way as I sat at my desk yesterday afternoon. I had noticed it was the same glance he had given me when we stopped momentarily at the traffic lights on the way home from work.

What is it? I asked as he crept up behind me and started rubbing my shoulders (I was hunched over the printer. I have an ongoing war with my Epson. Each battle is arduous, with neither party giving up much ground).

Oh, nothing.

No, really – what’s up with you today?

I miss you when you’re not here.

He whispers to me such indecencies. The things he speaks of he knows fully what they do to me. Where those words strike hard. The voice that speaks to the soul’s desires. It is not an event that occurs often; in fact, his honeyed words will frequently tip my mind over that precarious precipice to plummet into the velvety depths of debauchery, but it is rare that they can do it so immediately as when he speaks to me of bondage.

The words call out to me. Trigger words flash into my ears, striking me with their implications.

Stripped.

Shackled.

Tied.

Punished.

Pleasured.

Until you scream.

My throat goes dry, I feel the need to lick my lips, breathe open-mouthed. My heart about to leap through my chest.

And then he drives me further. He tries to change the subject to something other than that which is having me shudder as I lie next to him. He then speaks of what some of my fantasies have been fuelled by. His first gig. He has one this Friday. I shall be seeing him on stage for the first time. That, to me, is almost as heart-poundingly erotic as his talk of bondage. It has been a six-year dream for me to see my man on the stage. My thirst is about to be slaked.

Too much. He spoke of far too many possibilities for a girl like me. I could feel my skin pricking with heat, it was emanating from me, I wanted to explode from the passion. My fingers were twitching, I couldn’t keep still. My naked movement coupled with the conversation had also had an effect on him and as I turned round and almost launched myself at him, straddling his body, his wicked smile appeared. He is cunning. Planned or not, he had woken the Minx and not only did she want to play, she wanted to conquer.

The pent-up energy he had generated in me was released in that first kiss. It was strong and violent, my teeth bit into him, it made him jolt. He hadn’t expected that. As I clutched him, I was dimly aware that my nails were digging into his shoulder and side. I reduced the pressure. A little. Already my breathing was shaking making my whole body jitter, my hair tingling down onto his skin from where I hovered above him, a slight threat with my arms at either side of his body.

No words were spoken after that, he had said all he needed to.

I began riding him, my hips driving the pace, him bucking his own hips beneath me. He soon flipped me over onto my side, kissing his way into my hair, finding my neck and inhaling me. I love it when he does that.

It was frantic, the speed maddeningly fast. We changed again and he placed me lying on my front and thrust hard into me from behind. That always makes my moans softer, quieter, keening out from deep within. I can feel the intensity burning through me in that position. And he holds me down, presses me into the mattress, clutching onto my hair, grasping and pulling and I look back and see his eyes are staring coldly down at me but possessed with so much love and heat and desire.

It’s too much for us both.

We stop breathing for a second, he calls out, that sound of utter loss of control and whole-feeling. His moan trips me up into another climax, we both press ourselves to one another, wanting that complete fusion.

It’s all too much and there are no words but those three that are the only ones that flood my mind.

He says them before I can gather back my power of speech.