Archive for June, 2006


Posted in minx with tags on June 24, 2006 by evilminx

London’s West End is a magical place as dusk settles over the city. An air of excitement pervades; the hustle and bustle so familiar to Londoners takes on a new tone, a new zest.

And there you are, on line for the latest musical show, ticket clutched in hand, anticipation building. Standing there; unaware of the surprise I have planned for you; the one I have been secretly plotting to execute for ages.

You are accompanying an old friend — a countryman of yours from decades past. This is a favour you promised him years ago. Not to say that you are here under duress; not quite. However, not entirely by choice either.

Mere moments later and the bustling middle-aged usher has efficiently shown you to your seats. You find yourself in the last seat but one in the row; the sublime layout of the theatre being such that you have a thoroughly unrestricted view of the stage. The theatre is packed full; the only remaining empty seat next to you. The lights start to dim. You find yourself wondering about the tardiness of the person who has not yet filled the seat next to you — and then the orchestra strikes up and you concentrate on the overture.

Vaguely you are conscious of someone stopping at the end of the row, but so intent are you on the stage that you don’t turn to look as the person slides into the seat. You cannot tear yourself away from the spectacle in front of you, until you suddenly realise that the hand of the person sitting next to you has covered your lap with a coat, and is now wandering their hand up your arms to your face, which they are stroking in a manner that can only be described as tantalising.

You turn and look. It’s me. All thoughts of the show are instantly forgotten. You turn and kiss me deeply.


“I love you. What are you doing here? I thought you were out of town?”

” I am. I’m here. With you. Happy?”

You put your arm around my shoulders affectionately. I snuggle into you, under the strategically placed coat, my hand is idly creeping up your thigh, and wandering toward your groin. I pause, waiting to see if you’d rather concentrate on the show or encourage me, knowing in my heart that it will be the latter… and the telltale sigh that escapes your lips proves me right. I trail my fingers over the visibly swelling bulge and feel it grow even more, in response to my touch.

Unzipping your fly, your cock bounces out at me daringly. I look up at you – brazenly watching the show, with a wickedly innocent smile on your face. I feel the sudden need to change that smile into an expression of joyful disbelief, so in a flashingly quick move, I pull my jacket over my head, and settle my mouth over your cock, as deep as I can throat it.

Teasing and tantalising you, nipping and nuzzling, sucking and eventually swallowing you, to your ecstatic delight, I finish my endeavours and carefully squirm my body back up in the seat, as surreptitiously as possible.

And there we sit, watching the rest of the show.

Exhaling and happy; hand in hand. Together. Content just to be.

That’s how it should be… the beauty of just being.

Proudly listed on Blogstormz!

Technorati tags: , , , , , , , , ,


In recovery

Posted in minx with tags on June 22, 2006 by evilminx

It’s over. And hopefully done with.

She came through it fine, apart from some unrequited yowling as the anesthetic wore off, but with barely a scratch on her. Before I say anything else, let me state that clearly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I managed to miss her being taken away for the operation, which upset me yesterday but in the delightful, rosily-hued hindsight of reflection, I find myself quite relieved. I was taking the young Manx to school at the time, and her surgery wasn’t scheduled to begin before 8.30 a.m. Therefore, upon arriving at 7.45 a.m. and finding that I’d missed it by five minutes due to an unexpected cancellation, I cried.

For the first time that morning.

Then we sat, CH and I, in the waiting room. As you can imagine, my state of mind was somewhere between the moon and New York City. It was a most unusual situation to be in. How could I be sitting quietly, in an air-conditioned room, with the TV quietly blasting some halfwitted celebrity fitness instructor, while some big old doctor was doing things with knives and scalpels to my baby? (I couldn’t even allow the word “cut” to cross my mind, it made my stomach plunge downwards and up again in a most alarming fashion.)

I knew that whatever I was feeling, I wasn’t alone. For starters, CH was with me — and whatever I have to say about our relationship (and there’s plenty!), he is a wonderful father. There were others in the waiting room who had loved ones simultaneously going under the knife. This I knew, only too well.

And yet I felt as though I were the only person in the room. That I was sitting in a haze of slo-mo, like something out of a David Lynch film. Nothing made sense. The TV now showing cookery slot, but I couldn’t compute it. I kept looking blankly at the screen, not comprehending anything.

It was surreal. I had no idea I could feel so deeply. That sounds absurd, but it was as though my whole body was in pain with the agony of not knowing. I’d discussed the surgery with so many people beforehand, from the medical perspectives all the way through the philosophical ones, but when it actually came down to waiting for her to come through to recovery, it was like nothing I had ever previously known.

That was literally the longest hour of my life.

However, it’s now all behind me. She’s fine, full of beans, bouncing around having fun, and completely refusing to let anyone give her the post-operative medication that she’s supposed to take. I spent much of yesterday and all of today repeatedly exhaling. I felt as though i hadn’t breathed properly for weeks.

I wrote in the comments below how wonderful you all have been to me. I’d like to take a moment to reiterate that.

Since I began blogging, a whole new dimension has been added to my interpersonal relationships. The “blogpal”, or “online friend”. I heard from so many people — in comments and via email — that I knew i was blessed. It really did strengthen and fortify me enough to be able to cope with the day’s events.

Knowing that I was cared for, being thought about and prayed for by so many was an incredible feeling. I thank you all, with the deepest sincerity. You really touched my soul.



Posted in minx with tags on June 20, 2006 by evilminx

The Minxette goes into hospital tomorrow.

I’m shitting bricks. She’s so fucking little.

It’s a question of priorities. And re-ordering them. I don’t think I’ve ever been this stressed before in my life. I’m jumpy and nervy and bitey like a weasel..

So I’m trying to offload some of the causes of the stress. I’ll be away dealing with family matters for a while, and won’t be here as much. Call it a mini-hiatus, if you like. I’m not going for good, I’m just going for now.

You’re welcome to contact me on email, if you have it, or through comments if you don’t. But again, please don’t be offended if it takes a while for me to respond. It’s not that I don’t love you. You know I do.

To quote that walking caricature, Arnie… “I’ll be back..”

You can’t keep a good Minx down… well, not like that, anyway.


And not for long either. Everyone has to come up for air once in a while.


Oy, Ambrose! Get your butt up!

Posted in minx with tags on June 14, 2006 by evilminx

Ahem. Kcccch. Kccccccccccccccch. Cough.

Can anyone tell me how, while removing unsightly bikini-line hairs this morning, in the shower, I managed to get one in my MOUTH?

No one else manages to do these things. No one! I swear, sometimes i think i’m a lost cause…

OK, folks, today is a red letter day for your Minx. A couple of weeks ago, I was honoured to be asked by Doug over at Waking Ambrose, to write a Wednesday special.

And you know me.

“I’m just a gal who caint say no…”

So I did. And there it is. Up there for all the world to see. More nonsense from the lips of a Minx. Heh.

For those who don’t know, Waking Ambrose is one of the most entertaining sites on the blogosphere. The owner – the aforementioned and highly adorable Doug, sticks up a definition from Ambrose Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary, and a modern counterpart every day… and then leaves his readers to play almost completely unsupervised in the comments section. It’s brilliant… amusing, enlightening, and always a surprise. Not to mention educational.

Except on Wednesdays, when they have the guest blogger. Which this week… would be me. Educational my ass.

Go look. Add to comments. Make me proud…


Perspective regained

Posted in minx with tags on June 9, 2006 by evilminx

I started this week doing what I love best.

No, not THAT. Bunch of pervs. (Count me in! No.. ahem. Concentrate, Minx. Stop looking at the shiny things.)

I spent Sunday afternoon and evening in a theatre. Backstage, front of house… in the gods.

I was helping out with the kids from the community centre where I volunteer. They do a show each year — a talent show. Sometimes there’s lots of talent, sometimes there’s less. Either way… it’s a hoot. And to be on or backstage is like breathing for me; it always has been. It’s what makes me tick.

I tried once to explain my love for writing, acting, directing, and the performing arts generally to CH. Got nowhere. Not that he didn’t understand — we share two languages, he understood what I was saying perfectly well. It’s just that he’s not always capable of comprehending what I have to say.

It’s in my blood. It’s in my bones. It’s everything to me. The only reason I never went into it professionally was the competitive angle… I don’t have that. I don’t have that hard biting drive to succeed above all else; to beat out anything and anyone and everyone. And I’m fine with that. But this doesn’t reduce the level of dramatic blood flowing through my Minxy veins. And so I do what I can.

As I’ve said, I write comedy. I am also writing a play. Well… I say writing. It’s currently in my head. But I will be writing it. I need time and space to do it, naturally, so I may be posting here a bit less… much as I have been recently. (Bad Minx. Bad. Spank me. Please. Heh.)

Anyway, I spent last weekend with these kids. The community center is in a very… um… less than desirable area, but these kids are incredible. They blow me away. I mean, I was so lucky growing up. I realise that more and more as I grow older. The good fortune I was handed, I did take advantage of; but I never had the slightest inkling of quite how lucky I had it, and quite how good a fortune it was. I am astounded, in fact, at how easy I had it. It didn’t fucking feel easy at the time… which just shows how naive I was.

Then, as I meandered my way through the week, still reeling at how amazingly these kids deal with the crap that their situation throws at them… the bombshell hit.

My daughter — the much vaunted and documented Minxette — has to undergo an operation. It’s not life threatening any more than any other — in that she’ll have to go under general anesthesia. I’ve met the surgeon and I’m convinced that he’s serious, capable and I’m confident in his abilities. I’ve also met a couple of his past operees (is that a word?) who underwent the exact same procedure. I have no doubt that she will be absolutely fine… and there is no question that she needs the surgery.

But it was stressing me out something chronic. I still can’t eat. I’m not sleeping well — although, arguably, I never do, being a terminal insomniac. The thought of that tiny little body on the operating table makes me shake all over. I found that I was holding my breath without realising it, and then when I tried to exhale… I couldn’t do it fully.

With the help and support of good friends, both online and off, I’m breathing better… easier. I’m now at the stage where I’m almost back to normal. Well, as normal as I ever was. And have regained the ability to write here… which is always a help. Thank god for those people… I’m lucky to be loved by those close to me. And I love them all. Dearly.

But it puts things into a very real perspective, doesn’t it? I’d give anything for her not to have to undergo it, but she has to. I had to make that decision, I signed the consent form. But I did the right thing — I’d have been remiss if I didn’t ensure she had it, just to pander to my own fears.

But who ever said life was easy, hey?

The written word

Posted in minx with tags on June 3, 2006 by evilminx

Yes, I know… I have not posted for a week.

Throw me up against a wall and spray me with whipped cream — I’m a bad Minx. *Hangs head dolefully*

The real world has a tendency to interrupt my life. My blogging life, that is. Ugh.

I have had some time to blog, I’ve commented hither, and occasionally thither, but I haven’t been inspired to write a proper post. This is not what I consider a proper post. This is me fawning at you and begging you all not to desert me completely… At least, not so far. Who knows what might develop as i babble on…

I did find some shiny new sexy links this week, some of which I detail below. It’s amazing, I keep finding different blogs that appeal to me, some sexy (in terms of content; they’re all sexy in terms of style), some less so, but all good, linkworthy and well-written.

If I may digress from my fawning for a moment and rant a little… well-written is the key for me. It’s what makes my nerve-endings tingle, and what pulls me back over and over again to the same blog, hungry for more of this or that person’s wordsmithery. (It is a word, Doug, I just made it up, so I should know.)

I was introduced to Doug, via the Gnat’s Trumpet (also a marvelous writer with an inexplicable penchant for cliffhangers, and a deathwish apparently, if you go by any of his recent comments… not least from your truly), and then Doug introduced me to Indeterminacy who is a most appealing writer with a very different site. Minerva, she of the inspirational touch, I first met through a previous incarnation that legality forbids me from mentioning, but was the most powerful erotic writing I have ever encountered, before or since. And one of the newest erotica links in the Minxy blogroll is to the Spirit… who writes beautifully. Go look… go!

It seems to work out that most of my favourite erotica writers are women (despite my being straight, with a penchant for an MFM threesome). It’s just the way it is, mostly because the majority of erotica writers seem to be women. No I’m not saying that all erotica writers are women. That would be untrue, and to use the British vernacular, utter bollocks. The male writers of erotica whom I read are all spectacular. Apropos of which, much deserving of a mention, and a welcome back since his server went AWOL, is Mr Easily Aroused, who seems to live up to his name, although it isn’t hard. Or is it? Fnaar, fnaar.

I love reading good writing. I always have. I just wish I had more time in which to do it.

Naturally, I also love writing. It seems to be just about all I do. My work involves me using my writing, editing and publishing skills. My hobbies include writing comedy and now drama (yes! I’m writing a play!). In my spare time, I write this blog, and I write emails, and I chat online — more writing. My fingers are getting the keyboard workout of their lives. And my soul is fulfilled.

I don’t know how I managed to live my life without writing for me. I did… for too long. But I could never — can never — will never stop.

So please hang in there. I’ll get back to writing proper posts soon. Promise.