Foxy Music

It's Friday - time to get down to some sexy sounds.

Here's one for you.

Oh Those Victorians

I'm enjoying Jeremy Paxman's exploration of Victorian art and how it reflected, exaggerated and downright misrepresented the age. I was especially intrigued last night by the story of Punch cartoonist and respectably married man Linley Sambourne, whose excuse for taking photographs such as this on the left was that he really needed to see a naked figure to work out how to draw it properly.

It was nothing to do with being a kinky perve at all!

Here Hair Here

If you were building the perfect man, what hairstyle would you give him?

When I was younger, I was only interested in foppishly long locks (more the chap below than greasy rocker style):


(Newman, NOT Baddiel. Though actually...)

Or it could even grow up rather than down, as in this case:


I even used to quite fancy Lawrence Llewellyn-Bowen on the basis of his hair. Well, and his frock coat too, I suppose.

These days, big long hair is not really my bag, though I still like something finger-runnable-through. Luxuriant, yes: lank, no. I can't shake off my preference for the darkness, though the odd blond or redhead has caught my eye. I now like the idea of being able to find a man's scalp without plunging into a thicket of tangles, so shortish but thick, dark, not-too-distractingly styled and definitely none of that sticky-uppiness that footballers and boyband dudes seem to sport these days.

In fact, I could just revisit Rob Newman in more recent times.


This would suit me fine.


Definite barnet turn-offs: periwigs, initials shaved into head, combovers.
Things I like: quiffs, receding hairline, braids & cornrows


NEXT WEEK: Facial hair!

Cock-a-Hoop

Apparently we are indebted to Boris Johnson for the invention of a brand new word - 'cockamaniac'. (Or should that be 'cockomaniac? Doesn't seem to be in the dictionary yet). I like this word and think it would make a fine title for a short story.

Cockamaniacs on the Loose by Justine Elyot. It has a certain ring to it.

Anything that adds to the richness of sex-related language is most welcome. Trying to find new and interesting variations on the classic genital descriptors is a constant challenge.

Dark Enchantment

If you want to be darkly enchanted, you can't do better than get hold of a copy of the latest anthology by Janine Ashbless, Dark Enchantment. I've just finished reading it and it's spectaclear.


The quality of writing is as orgasmic as the, ah, orgasms - honestly, even if paranormal erotica isn't your thing, I still recommend it to you.

Now I'm off to tackle Seduction. Reading is great, innit?

Wish I Was Here

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And "Thou shalt not" writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore;

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

(William Blake)

The Instrument of My Corruption

Slightly off the mark, perhaps, because I think I was heading for the fleshpots long before I happened across my first erotic novel, but I'm always curious to know what people's first experiences of sex in the written form were.

It's a bit ironic, really, that most of the girls at school couldn't wait to get their hot little hands on vaguely naughty publications like Danielle Steele, Lace and all that bonkbuster stuff that was around at the time, while I, thinking I was taking a genteel Georgian-era romance off the bookshelf, found myself staring into the luscious nethers of Fanny Hill.

I was fourteen, I think, and it was rather an eye-opener. In quite a frightening way too - a scene where she fears she will be split in twain by a fellow's enormous manhood stuck vividly in the memory. I don't think I found it erotic particularly - definitely bawdy and earthy, but I was a bit too sheltered to appreciate it then.

So while it might not have stirred anything much, it certainly piqued my curiosity.

What floods of bliss! What melting transports! What agonies of delight!