Author: Cheeky Minx

The Brutality of Honesty

164_The Brutality of HonestyYou retreat.

Finally fall silent. Instinctively lock all the words away.

You befriend pretence.

Paint the smile upon your lips. Conceal the eyes once bright behind the darkest glass. Persuade your mind to cease its remembrance.

You live.

Talk and joke and laugh. Dance with abandon. Walk freely in the sun. Tilt your delicate face to meet its restoring rays.

You lie.

Live out the lie. Embrace the comfort of performance. Fool those who surround you by day.

Until the truth returns.

Until honesty exacts its brutal revenge.

Until it comes to you in the gloaming, in the moment the night’s nascent darkness dims the walls and cools the air.

Until it comes for you, preying upon your soul and your body, plundering the craving that refuses to sleep.

The craving. The hunger.

For him.

The hunger confessed in whispers and sighs to empty rooms, in the sheen upon your skin when his voice rushes back, in the sodden mess your hand seeks out compulsively between your legs.

The hunger.

The hunger to have him again, to have him want you again, to have him overwhelmed with every desire you represent, with the intensity burning to ash his own flesh, with the force to bind and grip you and trace the bruises on your softness, the need to taste your breath as he takes your mouth, as his lips and tongue fuck you with their kiss and your sweet and filthy little cunt weeps for his thick uncut hardness, cries to have him prise you open, to fill the void of your most intimate place, to mark you as his forever, to anoint you as his lover, his woman, his cockwhore, his queen.

Show of Hands

… And long, lean legs and soft, perfumed skin and naked, gleaming flesh…

Now that I have your attention, it’s your hands I truly crave. A show of hands, that is, for it’s voting season once again.

Until 7 October 2015, the lovely folks over at Kinkly are calling for your Sex Blogging Superhero votes. While I’m not one for a mask and cape – although the idea is certainly growing on me – I would dearly love for you to slip in your ballot if the taste of my cake is to your liking.

And once more, the gorgeous Sweet Rori from Between My Sheets is calling for nominations for the Top Sex Bloggers of 2015. With Rori’s call closing on 18 October 2015, you have a little time to consider all of your sex blogging favourites – you can find the list of mine on my ‘Links’ page. If you’ve enjoyed anything or all that’s been on offer here this year, I would greatly appreciate a show of support.

While 2015 has been something of a slower year for me as a result of wonderfully restorative and exciting overseas travel as well as everyday ups and emotional downs, I’m hoping to get back into the swing, with more erotica, more filthy words and deeds, more teasing self-portraiture. Just for you.

In the meantime, you have my warmest thanks in advance, sweet, sexy, pretty things…

~Minx x

Update: 28 January 2016

Due to the unexpected retirement of Rori from Between My Sheets as the result of illness, this year the Top 100 Sex Blogs will be judged/compiled by the tireless, generous and talented Molly Moore from Molly’s Daily Kiss (and her partner in life and delicious D/s crime, Signs from This D/s Life).

Nominations close on 1 February 2016, so you have a few short days to lodge your favourites, and hopefully, yours truly! To everyone who took the time to nominate me on Rori’s site last year, you have my most heartfelt appreciation.

Thank you once again, gorgeous guys and dolls…

~Minx x

PS If you’re an admirer of Between My Sheets and Rori’s amazing work, and want to wish her well for the future, please drop by and leave a comment on her final post. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you all: http://www.betweenmysheets.com/until-we-meet-again

Once Upon A Time

158_Once Upon A TimeOnce upon a time, his gaze studied every inch of my fair body, as if it were a wonder born in a bygone era, a curiosity fashioned from canvas and brushstrokes and oils, worthy of the gallery wall, the hungry crowd, deserving of his centre stage.

Once upon a time, his hands roamed with passion, urgency and fervour, as if these curves were chiselled from cold and unyielding marble, this skin and flesh brought to fiery life by desire and her sculptor, softening under his touch, melting on his lips and tongue, reaching and begging for his own thick hard need to claim them.

Once upon a time, he yearned to feel, devour, remember, the woman beyond this creation, the being beyond mere pixels on the screen.

 Slink in to see this week’s delectable players…
SinfulSundayLips150

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