The Fifty Shades of Fallacy

Observations of a Middle-Aged Dragon with a Tattoo: 

The Fifty Shades of Fallacy

More than a few people have a (not so) dirty little secret. Come on people lighten up and admit it... you've been reading and ...watching.... IT

dorth

Most people, especially women say they haven't read the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy. Not only that they haven't read it but the denial seems to also need to be laced (no pun intended) with more than a hint of disdain and a hell of a lot of a put down or is that throwing shade (pun intended). And don't get me started on the movies and how many people bemoan how they wouldn't sink so low, or be seen dead watching.

And Yet... 

The books have been worldwide best sellers and while everyone complains about how the writing is poor, the books must have captured something. 50 shades references have entered everyday language. One great example is at the end of the movie Bad Moms 1 when one of the characters says 'my husband totally 50 Shaded me this morning'. Now there's a movie coming out, Book Club starring Diane Keaton and Jane Fonda, about women reading 50SoG. Let me say again they're worldwide best sellers; so more than a few people must have read the books.

dorth
meryl

Then came the movies, which the books spawned. Even far more accomplished erotic romance writers like Meredith Wild, Sylvia Day, and Australia's very own Nikki Gemmell (The Bride Stripped Bare) haven't been able to capture similar lucrative movie deals for their books. That's even if the 'so-called in the know' intelligentsia say they are better writers.

Soooooooo someone out there must be reading these books and seeing the movies..... I'm beginning to think the whole Fifty Shades Phenomenon is like Dr Who's Tardis...

Small on the outside but big on the inside...really BIG

Well, I admit it...

I have read and seen the trilogy... and there must be many, many others who have. Let's face it, so what! There are no 50 shades of grey areas here... you either have or you haven't. If some of you have slipped over to the darker side, now you can be freed from your burden.

rosan

Let it out... Rip off the Band-Aid and admit it, you've read/seen them too.

Sometimes the dialogue is cringe worthy and frustrating and laughable and sickly sweet YET there is something at the core of the love story that resonates. Maybe it's the sanitization and the raising of the acceptability of some aspects of BDSM as a possible bedroom ally. Forget the fun police and the pretentious, wannabe erudite readers and admit it. After all it's really not so bad, it's fun and may even give you something to laugh about. It's mental bubble-gum - you take it in, chew it, mull over it, enjoy the silliness of remembering how to blow a bubble and then as it loses it's flavour you spit it out!

Yes I've read all of the them and SEEN all of them. There it's done and I haven't been smote down... life goes on. You too can release your inner Tardis, no wait, make that your inner sexual beast.

candle

Bye, Bye Ben Wah: Bye Bye!

Observations of a Middle-Aged Dragon with a Tattoo: 

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

dorth

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.

dorth

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....

candle

My Waxing Technician has OCD!

Observations of a Middle-aged Dragon with a tattoo:

  

She likes everything clean, smooth: totally deforested.

dorth

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.

dorth

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


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 Christmas surprise!

MADLY: Too Much Too Soon.

Book One of the Too Much Romance Series

Buy at a Special Christmas Deal.

In the rush of the 'silly' season we often forget to look after ourselves as we madly try to please everybody else. So go on please yourself and buy, if you haven't already, Book One: MADLY of the Too Much Too Soon Erotic Romance Trilogy. It's selling at a special XXmas e-book price.

Go on ... I DARE YOU TOO! Don't just stuff the turkey, stuff yourself with a little erotic romantic escapism at Christmas time. You know you want too... and may you have a very, very Merry Christmas.

Talk soon in the New Year.

In the mean time I will be working on polishing Natasha and Sebastian's continuing story in Book Two: DEEPLY: Too Much Too Late and the third and final instalment of their love story, Book Three: TRULY: Too Much is Never Enough. Both will be ready for you in 2018.

May your stockings be full and naughty; with your Christmas and presents sensuous and nice!