Bye, Bye Ben Wah: Bye Bye!

Observations of a Middle-Aged Dragon with a Tattoo: 

They just keep slippin': slip, sliding, away.


In my quest for an exquisite orgasm and riding on the sensational efforts of Fifty Shades of Grey. I bought me some Ben Wah balls.

Conclusion: Some things should have an age limit of a maximum not a minimum.

For example, for some toys it says not for children under the age of 6. When it comes to toys of the adult kind it should say things like - not for women over the age of 45 or not for those who’ve had more than 3 children.

Of course there are always exceptions to the rule and power to you if you're one of this rare breed.

What do I mean: just as there are children who are 4 and who can quite adequately master a game set a minimum of 6, I’m sure there are woman who are over 45 and who have had over three kids who can enjoy the pleasures of the Ben Wah balls. And as I said …. Power to you.

But for us mere mortals…. It's a sad realisation that comes as quickly, as the thudding sound of a Ben Wah ball falling out to the bathroom or bedroom floor from the said lips they were meant to be inserted through and stay.

Sadly, no 50SoG moments for this woman, only the sudden realisation of yet another part of the anatomy that, that bitch age has caught up with.

I’d just like to say I’m not incontinent and I have quiet, a responsive pelvic floor, even my husband tells me so. Sadly, it would seem my bits and pieces down there are just sagging. I think I need bigger balls of steel. Just a tad bigger if they are to stay in the required place to have the full Anastacia Steele enhanced climax experience…

Ben Wah balls can be used to increase the strength of the pelvic floor muscles. They are indeed vaginal weight-lifting equipment. They can be used to improve vaginal tone and bladder control while enhancing the sexual experience. Now that's a sentence I never thought I'd write.

The only enhanced experience I felt was a higher sense of frustration rippling through me and not the orgasmic kind. Defeated and somewhat deflated, I stowed the balls at the very back of my bathroom vanity… way, way, way back.

I'll just have to be content with my normal hubby and his normal balls and my normal orgasm.


Because who has time for Pelvic floor weight lifting…. I actually don’t mind the odd weights session, but I’d rather watch grass grow than do pelvic floor exercises. Those of you out there that are smart or cheeky or both; are no doubt falling over yourselves to tell me the beauty of my situation is that I could indeed watch the grass grow AND do my pelvic floor exercises at the same time….. Ha Ha Ha. You never know, someday I may bring them out for an encore performance. Because as they say in the classics it won't happen overnight, but it will happen....


My Waxing Technician has OCD!

Observations of a Middle-aged Dragon with a tattoo:


She likes everything clean, smooth: totally deforested.


She is a fine waxing technician, (is that what we call them). However, she may be a little too zealous when it comes to my nether region. She waxes the same area several times (especially the lips) and then she brings out the big guns…. They are so painful… but small; the big guns are the dreaded tweezers.

She pulls at me and sharp nips of pain rise and fall. I almost say, ‘Why? Let me assure you the man that’s going to go down there needs glasses and so a few stray hairs will not be sighted. And let me inform you he will never go down there with glasses.'

Will his tongue be able to be discerning enough to seek out a stray hair? I don’t think so!

I’m playing to my audience, so my waxing should aim for the same. I’m not striving to perform at the Sydney Opera House, with a world-class virtuoso violinist. No, my performance heights are much lower. A performance in the domestic blissful bedroom, with a mere mortal fiddler, as I am also, only a mortal.

So rather than endure 20 minutes of pain. I think I’d be happy with less and no tweezers!

You may ask why bother. Until a year and a bit ago, I thought the same. Then I had it done (by a different technician) and found there was no turning back. I’m not sure why, maybe it’s the breezy feel, I really can’t say.

Let me say I admire my current technician’s perfection and her striving for excellence and it’s why I keep going back. The pain is transitory after all. This whole discussion is a first world problem and a very superficial one at that. Nonetheless, I hope it may provide some food for thought and have you smiling and laughing not squirming.

Maybe she thinks I could be a lesbian (not that there’s anything wrong with that) because let’s face it, only another woman would notice if there was an imperfection. Either way, it leaves me wondering.


Tell me should I ask for a lesser wax or basically toughen the f@#k up princess, and strive for excellence??

Sometimes someone just has to say what everybody is thinking.... BE BOLD

Observations of a Middle-Aged Dragon with a Tattoo: 


When you've had one of those days, this may bring a small smile to your face and spirit. 



Menopause the curse

Observations of a Middle-aged Dragon with a tattoo:

Menopause the curse!

I'm not so much a Sam Elliot fan, 

although he's easy on the eye and has a voice like dripping molasses, which I could listen to all day and it would relax me as much as a good warm massage. 

I’m more of  a David Beckham fan (as you may know if you read my football world cup blog from three week's ago.


He is just so ridiculously handsome. But I'm sure many of you have your own choice of man to lust after.

This is a novel idea which has great potential:

Or try these shoes and cuffs on for size... dare you to...


A small but powerful message for next week's journey:

Observations of a Middle-Aged Dragon with a Tattoo:

Eleanor Roosevelt's thoughts and sentiments have stood the test of time.



Some Fridays I love more than others....

Observations of a Middle-Aged Dragon with a tattoo: 


This may help:



Break Free from the car park Mafia with a cool sexual dalliance:

The Freo Doctor visits

‘It’s good to be here again. I have mostly very fond memories from this morning. But this time it feels a bit more normal.

The tension eased.

‘If it’s normal you want, I was just going to cook up some chorizo and mushroom pasta for dinner. Would you like some?’

‘Sounds great, but only if I can help.’

‘Sure.’ She took his hand.

Sebastian wrapped her in his arms and kissed her soundly. ‘Couldn’t help myself. It means a lot to me to be able to do that.’

Natasha steadied with a smile on her lips and led him into the kitchen. She was all hot again. ‘I was just having a glass of iced water. Would you like one?’

‘Great. Thanks.’

Without taking too many steps, she could efficiently reach around her kitchen to place the ice cubes from the freezer in a glass and fill it with water. ‘Ah, um, my apartment is not as well-appointed or as big as yours.’ She handed him the glass.

‘Thanks.’ Seb took a long sip. It gave him time to think. ‘I’m sure it does everything you need it to do. Now, what can I do to help?’

Natasha’s mind was racing. She couldn’t fully believe this Adonis was in her apartment again, and in the kitchen, of all places. ‘Um, okay. You can slice the mushrooms and I’ll get the rest organised. Chopping board’s there.’

She handed him a bag of mushrooms. He gave her a lost look. ‘Knife?’

‘Of course.’ Nat fumbled through a drawer to find him one of her sharper knives. She put a saucepan of water on to boil before retrieving the chorizo from the fridge. Her attention was drawn to how he was cutting the mushrooms. He was like a machine, a professional chef wielding the knife with precision. ‘Oh, I see you can handle a knife.’

‘Ah, yes, one of my lesser known talents,’ he said seriously, before forcing a smile. Then as he eyes reached hers a megawatt Mancini lightened his face.

She was captivated. Losing herself in his handsome features, she started slicing the chorizo, ‘Ouch.’ The knife she was using wasn’t that sharp, but she flinched, holding her finger up.

Seb dropped his knife and grabbed her hand. Then he did something that surprised both of them. He drew her hand to his mouth and soothed her finger with his tongue, gently sucking. Every part of her swooned, sans guilt. Natasha couldn’t believe how easily he was breaking her down.

Suddenly the atmosphere was charged. While his tongue was soothing her finger, it had the opposite effect on both of them. She tried to derail the runaway train that was her mind. ‘Seb, I thought that was for snake bites.’ Her voice betrayed her.

His betrayed him. He slowly slid her finger from his mouth. ‘Yes, but with you I…’ Dark, smouldering eyes found heated blue. He was hypnotised by her. He stepped even closer still holding her hand. ‘I seem to lose--',

‘--me too.’ Only a few words were needed. It was hot in the kitchen, but it had nothing to do with the weather or the boiling water. Nat wasn’t experiencing any pain from her finger. The tension had only ebbed - now it ramped driven up an overwhelming sexual desire.

Seb’s hands were running up her body, under her T-shirt. ‘Natasha, turn the stove off. I don’t want to rush this.’ She reluctantly broke free of his hands and turned the hot plate off. The boiling water subsided while their need for each other boiled over. It was the last time her feet touched the floor. Seb lifted her up, twirling her around as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Fingers twisting in his hair, she kissed him deeply. Boundless bliss was released.

He laid her down on the small dining table, sweeping off the books and magazines. With her knees bent, heels on the table edge, she was ready for him. He helped her pull her t-shirt off. He hungrily looked down, and then his lips were on her everywhere. Nat raised her hips as he slid her shorts off.

‘Ms Perry: commando. I like. You are full of surprises.’

‘Why, Dr Mancini, I didn’t think I would be receiving guests.’

He moved her knees apart with his body. She heard his zipper descending as his left hand dreamily worked its way down her body. His touch left goose bumps flowing in its wake. Seb arched back up. She enjoyed the sight as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it away: all moving, muscular perfection, like a male model in a designer underwear ad. Nat was distracted from her adolescent yearning as the afternoon sunlight caught his body, his skin tanned and smooth, except for where his soft, curly black chest hair covered a 20-centimetre long scar. It ran down his sternum. Another scar of a similar size rimmed his right hip.

Natasha was spread naked over her small dining table with Seb’s heated body spread over her. There was no need for The Slut or music. Natasha wanted Seb and he wanted her.

The scent of jasmine and Nat filled his lungs, driving him crazy. His lips found her tits. He loved how they were so full and curved in all the right places. The fingers of his right hand trailed heavenly down her body until they found the soft strip of hair above her sex. He rhythmically palmed her and her arousal soaked his fingers. He brushed his thumb over her clit, tantalizing both of them. He knew the right amount of pressure to use on one of the most sensitive parts of her body. She writhed into his palm, needing to intensify the friction of his touch.

He wanted to tie her up, stop her squirming, and control her: make her yield to him in every way. He couldn’t, not yet. Seb made sure he held his lust in check; he needed control. If he truly lost his mind and revealed himself, he might lose her. He rolled her clit between his fingers, holding her a hair’s breadth away from pain. Exquisite pleasure drove her higher than ever before. ‘We’re going to take this slow so we can savour it: no shame, all pleasure.’ His voice made her moisten even more. ‘What if I make you come this way.’ In the throes of climbing a searing lust, she just nodded.

Nat was experiencing such a level of exquisite sensuality that The Slut should have appeared ages ago. The veneration in his eyes was something new to her. She alone had control as pleasure usurped any thoughts of sin and persecution. Maybe this morning’s sharing and Seb’s decision to stay had banished her Alters.

His mouth was on the lips of her sex. His tongue rolled and licked its way around the bud of her flower. It was such an unbelievably carnal feeling. She writhed under his expert touch.

‘Stay still, let the feeling consume you,’ he growled between licks. Then he blew on her.

‘Sooo good.’ Rapture flowed through her body in waves. She found it difficult not to move but she showed her desire in other ways.

Her reactions, the little noises of pleasure, the way her skin bloomed as she started climbing, were making it hard for him to maintain control. He smiled. ‘You like the cool change, huh?’

‘Yesss. Mm-more, please.’

Thinking he was going to continue, she waited for the expected thrill. Instead, he moved away and she was boiling water with its sustaining heat extinguished. Nat heard the freezer open and shut. He returned, eyes on fire. Soon his mouth was on her, lips consuming her. It was then she felt it, sharp and cold.

Nat’s breath hitched as he expertly brushed an ice cube over her nipple in a perfectly timed swift movement. ‘Huhhhh!’ Her nipple hardened. A thrill of the most erogenous kind rolled through her, speaking directly to her sex, which fluttered in anticipation. His warm lips heated her nipple. The contrast sent erotic shivers through her yet again.


He didn’t let up and repeated the breathtaking act on her other nipple, sucking and tugging gently. Wild desire drove through her core. He ran the ice cube over her torso, leaving a slow, meandering trail of cold over her hot skin. He skated the fast melting cube around her belly button, letting it sit there as he attended to each of her nipples with his tongue once more. ‘Hold still. Let’s see if you have enough control over your body to keep the ice here.’

She wanted to feel him in her, aching to have him fill her as exquisitely as he had that morning. ‘Sebastian, please. I can’t.’

‘Shhh! You can and you will. Natasha, control your desire and you will regain your pleasure. Don’t come until I tell you to. Take charge of your mind, body, and soul, then you’ll take charge of them.’

She stilled her body; her desires raged, barely contained and more intense than she could ever remember. It was agony and ecstasy all at once. Seb’s direct tone had her holding her climb. All sensations were heightened. His tongue slowly found its warming way to her belly button. Seb delicately moved the melting ice-cube further down her body to his ultimate goal.

Goosebumps cascaded over her torso as he blew on her clit. She moaned again. He knew precisely the perfect amount of time to leave the cold in contact with the lips of her sex until he slipped the fast-melting ice into her hot cunt: oooh, so slowly. His tongue followed the cool, watery trail, heating it. The contrast gripping her body was a wickedly erotic, sensual overload. His tongue tortured her as he sucked on the remains of the ice.

‘Come for me: come now.’ He blew again and worked her with his mouth. He had such a skillful tongue. His heat had her groaning loudly as his finger entered her slowly and slid deep into her.

‘Ohh, Seb, this is…’ She couldn’t focus on anything other than Seb slowly moving his finger in and out of her, driving her wild. She came, and he was there with his tongue and mouth working her, taking all she could give him.

She was shattered. ‘Seb, that was…’ Words failed her.

He didn’t reply, but she could see from his eyes that he wanted more. His tongue and mouth worked their way back up her body. His mouth on hers allowed her to taste her arousal. It re-ignited her desire, even in the midst of her erogenous ebb. Seb stood. Nat could see from the girth and length of his cock that his work on her had given him a massive hard-on. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Seb couldn’t look away from the vision laid out before him. She was radiant. Her tanned skin had an added soft glow. Her golden locks were fanned out around her like a halo. She rubbed one leg over the other, raising one knee up, covering the entrance to where he wanted to bury himself. Tease. He was at the limit of his control. ‘God, your… You don’t realise how beautiful you are, do you?’ he rasped.

‘Sebastian, stop: don’t spoil it. You know my history.’ Emotion hoarsened her tone. ‘How can you say that?’

‘Easily, because it’s true.’ It had crossed his mind when she’d told him about the stripping that it might tarnish everything, that she might be stringing him along, all business as usual. Then he’d seen that look in her eyes, and it shattered him. A searing charge drilled into his heart, ran down his spine to his balls, and he was lost in her: couldn’t resist, didn’t want to. His hands were on her thighs, sliding her down the table towards him. She wrapped her legs around his arms and he used them as levers to plunge deep into her.

Slowly, he exquisitely pulled out of her before ramming back into her. He repeated this cycle of rough pleasure, gradually getting faster and deeper with each thrust, divinely stretching and stroking the erogenous nerves which had her cunt greedily grasping at him. His words and syllables moved in time with his quickening rhythm. ‘Nat…tight. I. Can. Feel. Ev-er-y. In-chhh.’

Her voice jolted out, ‘Harder. You're sooo fucking big,’ words she hadn’t used in a very long time. She was climbing to a new summit. He plunged into her, all the way to the hilt of his long shaft, again and again. It was so heavenly. Then he slammed two final thrusts into her, shouting something primal. Natasha shattered and joined him, shrieking out her erotic high. He released over and over into her. A sated groan leaving his lips.


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