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Thursday, October 4th 2018
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A Woodland Walk
Hello my horny friends,

I am writing this on a rather changeable day, weather-wise. I have just had to scoot outside to rescue some washing from the line, washing that I put there about an hour ago when the sun looked as if it was there for the rest of the day. Sadly, some ominous grey clouds soon put paid to that!
I guess I am resigned to the summer being over, barring some minor miracle. When I think back to the way things were not too many weeks ago when the local water company was threatening to impose a hosepipe ban and every night was hot and sticky - even before anything happened! - I feel a little sadness that the chance to wear skimpy and revealing clothing is probably over for another year. So, just in case you're feeling the same way, why don't we indulge ourselves in a little erotic nostalgia...
This particular sunny woodland is in Spain, as it happens, but the weather in Lancashire has been that hot over the summer that it could have been just down the road from me - or possibly even you!
(By the way, on the subject of nearby, did I mention that my good friend Curvy Claire from Norfolk is coming to visit next week? If you would like to spend some time with two busty mature beauties, why not email or text me for details!)
OK, let's picture a scene that might appeal to both of us. Let's say I have held a competition, for the most erotic text message you could send, and the prize for the winner is two hours with me in the location of my choice. You don't know exactly what to expect and to be honest neither do I. I haven't promised anything will happen, but both of us are obviously consenting adults. It's up to us how those two hours will pass. I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you make a good first impression. You're obviously kind, you smell lovely and fresh, you've taken trouble with your appearance without going overboard, and I like the way you've been talking to me since we met.
It's clear you like me too, but you're taking things sensibly. You haven't boasted to me about how I'm about to have the best sex ever, for instance. In fact, the meeting feels to me rather like a first date; there's even a little sense that it's me getting the prize.
There's a lovely silver birch along the way, and even as I'm playing a little game of peek-a-boo with you on the other side of it I am making my mind up about you. I reach up to tease at my hair a little, then smile my favourite, oh-so-naughty smile. I think you sense the way I'm feeling. Let's see what you do with that knowledge!
You lift your head and walk up to the tree. You put one hand high up on each trunk, your fingers splayed. It's a confident gesture and I like it. I also like hands and you have good, strong, interesting hands. They will go anywhere on my body that you like if these next few moments go well.
We make eye contact. We hold eye contact, then glance away, look back. There are smiles, half smiles, facial expressions from both of us that speak of desire. A gentle silence, broken only by the silly things we say sometimes when the talking needs to stop and the lovemaking needs to begin.
You've taken my hand and led me out from behind the tree. You bring me close to you, so close that even over the birdsong I can hear the breath from your nostrils. The air is sweet. You put your cheek next to mine and I feel your breathing on that sensitive part where my neck meets my collarbone. I want you to kiss me, but you want to wait. I press my cheek against yours and then pull back slightly. I can almost read your mind, wondering whether I am going to pull away from you completely, and then you realise that I am just doing this so my lips will be closer to yours. There is a very brief but quite audible wet little sound as my lips part, and you know that I am asking you to put a part of you inside my body. You hesitate, as if you can't quite believe that I would really let you do this, but then you decide this is the moment. Your open mouth meets mine, an instant passes, and then you do what you've been wanting to do since we first shook hands. You put your tongue into my mouth and breathe in the air that I breathe out.
You kiss well. Nothing too rough, but not too timid either. Your hand starts out resting on my hip, then slides up the side of my chest, fingers around onto my shoulder, thumb slightly tickling in my armpit. I like the pressure of your fingertips, but I know what you're dying to do. I pull away from the kiss a second, to give you a comic frown, a look that says 'Really?' I take your hand in mine and lift it away from my body. I want to see if you do what I think you will. You do, with a look that is pure little boy sadness, a look that becomes disbelief and joy as I put it onto my left breast.
'I enjoy having my tits felt,' I tell you, 'as long as you do it right.'
You're doing it right as our lips meet again, and I let you know by putting my tongue into your mouth. We kiss like this for several minutes, you hardly daring to let go of my breast in case I have a change of heart, me pushing my pelvis forward to get you to consider some other parts of my body. I reach down to fondle your cock and reach for your zipper. You grin, and I realise I am not the only one who can tease.
Now you know that I want to be fucked, it's just a question of where. There's a soft hummock just by the next clump of trees, and we somehow make it without falling, shedding clothing as we go. I sit back as you drop your trousers a little. They are hardly below your waist, but that is enough to release your cock, and finally, you discover how wet I have got. There's a little awkwardness at first, but then I guide you to where you need to be and put my hands on your buttocks to pull you inside. We are both so turned on by now that it can't last for long, but you still manage to last long enough for me to come, long enough even for me to recover, and pull your head close for that final act, so you feel my tongue deep in my mouth, just as I feel your sperm going into my body.
You're a little heavy on me now, as that post-orgasm glow fades, but then you realise and you put your hands on the grass either side of my head to lift yourself off me a little. Not too much though, we stay close enough that our lips and tongues can still play and tell each other wordlessly that we want more. I ask the time and you tell me it's three-thirty - over half an hour to go.
I'm not a clock watcher, so I mention something I've always wanted to do but never done before - take a man's cock between my lips, right after he's fucked me, then gently suck him past the sensitive stage, back through full hardness and on to climax, savouring the changes in flavour from the leftover cum on his head, the mixture with of his juices and mine as I take him deeper, then finally pure male once more as he pumps his load down my throat at the end. You say you like the sound of that, and I say something else I've never done before is let a man come into me, then get him to clean me up afterwards, his tongue probing deep into my pussy. You say you like the sound of that too and before long the woodland summer sounds of buzzing insects and birdsong are joined by the pants and sighs of two lovers exploring each other by tongue.

Stay horny

Love Lorna Blu xxx
Saturday, September 22nd 2018
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Satin Doll
Hello again everyone,

In case you didn’t see it on my profile … I’m off to Norfolk at the end of the week to visit the lovely Curvy Claire. We’ll be indulging in lots of girlie girl stuff and having fun doing ‘double delights’, so if you live in that area, don’t miss out!

…. And now, my naughty little tale for you …
'Do you believe the clothes define the person or the person defines the clothes?'

Then there was a camera flash, quickly followed by two more. It might sound as if I was being grilled at some kind of press conference (or should that be spit-roasted?!), but in fact it was something much more fun. David is an old friend and a gifted amateur photographer, and I was combining my business with his pleasure on a visit to his place. I paused for a moment before answering.

'I'm not too sure. I do know that I do respond to the clothes in one way. I ask what kind of outfits people would like me to wear for a meet, and that gives me a cue on what they might like from the session. For instance, if they ask for something with a good bit of black leather in it, they probably prefer a more assertive persona. If they ask for satin frilly floral -'

'Like you're wearing now, you mean?'

' - like I'm wearing now, for instance, then it's likely they would like a feminine lady, someone who is a little coy and sweet.'

'An interesting idea,' he said, before firing off another few pictures, 'but what should I read into the fact that you chose the outfit today?'

I shrugged slightly, made a "little girl lost" face, then blew him a kiss. The camera fired off a burst of pictures. He made a satisfied sighing noise that told me he was getting into the photos.

'OK,' I said, changing the subject slightly, 'Tell me about this setting. Why the stairs?'


'Yes. It's kind of symbolic for me. The way I see it, downstairs is where the public persona gets displayed, it's where people are nice to each other but keep their shields up, you know? Nobody gets too close, that kind of thing. But upstairs is where the private persona can come out, where things get more intimate, and people get the closest that they can to each other.'

'I see,' I said. I wasn't sure that I did. He fired off another half dozen, close in on my face.

'I love your thinking face,' he said, 'not sure if you'll want to use these ones though!'

'OK, so tell me some more about this transition.'

He took the camera from his eye, and thought a second.

'Putting it bluntly, downstairs your legs are closed. Upstairs your legs are open. I wanted to capture the look on your face as you make that transition, the look of a woman who knows she is about to have sex and is looking forward to it.'

'Ah, like the "before and after" look,' I said, smiling at the memory.

'Come again?'

'I recently made a video clip where I masturbated. Then for a little trailer for it we put the very start of the clip with the very end of the clip. About 20 seconds all told. We called it "before and after". The guy doing the editing told me he couldn't work out which was sexier, the look on my face right after I had my orgasm, or the look on my face when I knew I was going to have one.'


'He thought so, anyway!'

'I can imagine. But back to stairs and transitions, I guess it's a bit similar. I want to catch that wicked Lorna look that you have when you know you're about to do it.'

I chuckled a little. My eyes must have twinkled a little more, because there was another burst from his shutter.

'Does it help that I know that your bedroom is up there, David? That I know when you put that camera down you're going to take me?'


He took another flurry of pictures.

'You ought to pass that camera to me,' I said, 'the look on your face is a picture there, you're so eager.'

'Can you blame me?' he asked, almost licking his lips.

'Don't worry,' I said, 'you know I want you inside me. I think I'm going to get a T-shirt printed for you, "Keep calm, Lorna will let you fuck her".'

He loves it when I talk dirty.

'Besides,' I went on, 'your transition theory doesn't stand up to the evidence. You know we've fucked twice in your kitchen, on all three parts of that suite in your lounge, not to mention that time you had me doggy-style in the downstairs loo. Hell, I even sucked you off on the porch when you couldn't get your keys out in time. Thinking about it now there is a very real possibility that when you do get me into your bed today it'll be the first time we have fucked there!'

He said nothing but took a lot of pictures very quickly. I think I might have illustrated his transition idea quite nicely! He put the camera down carefully, then reached across and gently put his hand onto my chest to squeeze.

'Like it?' I asked.

'Love it! You can't beat the feeling of a beautiful woman's breasts under this stuff.'

'Breasts? You're only touching one,' I pointed out.

'I've got two hands, remember?'

The second one joined in with the fun. I breathed in deeply, and let him fondle me. Satin gowns feel quite exquisite from the inside too, and my nipples stiffened in his palms.

I moved closer so we could kiss. I must have been feeling a little more wanton today, because I was the first one to go for tongues. He didn't object. When we came up for air he teased me a little

'You know, I don't think I got a satisfactory answer as to why you went for the satin tops.'

'Mainly because I like the feel, but also for a bit of nostalgia. The last time I wore the blue one,' I told him, 'was the morning after an overnight visit to an older gentleman. And this red one is from a visit to the far east. I was given this one by a younger woman who seduced me into a one-night stand with her in Kyoto, as it happens.'

'Good enough reason,' he said, 'shall we go upstairs and you can tell me about it while I fuck you?'

'I thought you'd never ask,' I grinned, 'do you want me to keep it on while you fuck me? Cowgirl sounds good.'

He grinned back.

'I thought you'd never ask.'

Sweet Kisses,

Stay Horny

Love Lorna Blu xxx
Friday, September 14th 2018
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Sauce for the Goose
Hi Everyone,

Weekend again – Yay!

Hope you enjoy my latest set of ‘Policewoman’ photos. This set is a real treat for bum fans … with lots of anal play, butt plug and DP.

'So, I have this idea for a video clip.'
'Go on,' I said, as I put the business end of a truncheon between my breasts and smiled into the lens, 'I'm listening.'

The voice I was listening to belonged to Steve, a friend of mine who was watching my performance as a naughty policewoman with interest, not to mention trousers that told me he liked what he saw. He was having one of the bursts of creativity he has from time to time. I was taking advantage of the visit to his place to do a photo shoot in a different setting.

'Hang on a second,' he replied, 'let me just do this first.'

He walked up to where I was leaning provocatively against the wall, my legs apart. I wasn't sure what he had in mind, so I just stood my ground, looking straight at him. His eyes never left mine as he stopped, almost within kissing distance. He reached over and put his hand on my breast. Not too hard, but firmly and deliberately, as if he was trying to let me know he could take what he wanted from me. It was a battle of wills, a little power struggle. I think he was testing out the entry I had put on my Adultwork interview - the part where I said I liked cheeky and confident men who could dominate and take the lead. Well, the fact is that I do like that. But not all the time. Sometimes Lorna likes to take the lead a little, and today was one of those days!

I leaned in towards him, pushing my breast into his hand just a little bit, to let him know it was what I wanted too. I leaned close enough to kiss him, wearing an expression with a hint of defiance. I could see his confidence falter a little. It made me smile. I put one hand on his shoulder, my fingers curling around the back of his neck, then closed my eyes down to heavy-lidded slits and gently drew his head to me, then very slowly but very purposefully put my tongue right into his mouth, pressing and forcing his to one side. The flash fired automatically as we were in mid French kiss. He was startled a little and pulled back.

'I bet you won't let me use that one,' I said. He was very camera shy.

'We'll see,' is all he said. I could see him turning ideas over in his mind, and I decided to find out how far I could turn the tables. But gently - the teasing and the anticipation was part of the fun, after all! Now I had his attention I began to flirt a little more. You may think that is silly, because this was an escort booking, when all was said and done. But though it might seem that the sex was inevitable, there was the highly important consideration of how we would get there, and I thought there was pleasure for the both of us if I took control.

I poked my truncheon out, making it into an erection. I took a couple of shots of myself like that, then started to think of it as someone else's cock, treating it to a blow job. Smiling eyes and lips stretched around a large head. I knew these would look good.

'Do you wish it was your cock, Steve?' I asked, poking my tongue to touch the very tip.

He moaned a little, and I saw his hand move to his zipper. I heard the rasp as he undid himself, then pulled it out. I waited a second till he was fully out, then motioned for him to stop.

'How about if it was mine, though?'

The end of the truncheon was very wet with my saliva. Slowly I rotated my hand, turning the wet head so that it no longer pointed at my face, but pointed at his. I saw his puzzled expression as I held it in front of him.

'Would you like to suck my cock, Steve?'

I thought perhaps I might have taken things too far, but no. He was still watching me, his face a picture of conflicting thoughts. I noticed he was still hard - if anything perhaps a bit harder. He hesitated a couple of seconds, but his gaze was even, clear and direct into my eyes as he opened his mouth and moved to take the truncheon head between his lips. I smiled approval, and whispered.

'Go on...'

I watched fascinated as he began to move his head back and forth, taking the head of my make-believe cock deeper into his mouth. I made some playful - but still very genuine - sounds of arousal as he sucked. I didn't have to fake my heavy breathing, the sight of what he was doing really was getting to me.

'Good boy!' I said, then decided to test him a little further.

'Oh, you've got me close, I'm nearly there. Can I come in your mouth?'

Quite solemnly he continued, then pointedly stopped for a few seconds. I knew he was fantasising about the juice filling his mouth. So was I. I waited a second or two.

'Show me?'

In full-on pornstar mode now, he opened his mouth as if he really was showing me a mouthful of my cum. I nodded approval, and he closed his mouth and pretended to swallow it for me. I wanted him there and then, but there was the little matter of finishing off the photos first. You'll see that they get quite raunchy quite quickly because by now I was eager to be fucked! It was as I was part way through using the truncheon on myself that I remembered his first remark.

'OK, what was your idea for a video clip then, Steve?'

I was breathing heavily by this point, working the truncheon deep into my pussy, and truth be told getting quite close to coming.

'Two video clips, really,' he said, 'with the joint title "Sauce for the goose"'.

'That's an interesting title,' I said, 'what made you think of that?'

He pointed towards the butt plug I had put in for the later shots.

'That did. I want to be that toy. I want to fuck you there, to be there inside you when I come.'

I knew he was keen on my bum, perhaps a bit keener on the idea of it than I was these days!

'Well, that's certainly saucy in its way,' I said, panting, very close now. 'I still don't quite get the title though!'

'Oh, I thought it would be obvious by now, especially after that blow job! Do you have a strap-on, Lorna?'

The combination of the movement of the truncheon and that thought did it for me. I closed my eyes and made myself come hard. Two seconds later I felt the warm splashes on my pussy and thighs that told me my bottom was safe as far as this visit was concerned. His too, of course.

But only until the next time!

I’ve done a video to go with these photos – I’ll publish it soon ;-)

Stay Horny!

Love Lorna Blu xxx
Sunday, September 9th 2018
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Lorna Blu and some special panties
Hello, my Horny Friends,

This blog is a response to a lovely email I got recently from a gentleman named Matt. Matt has obviously picked up on the fact that I adore lovely lingerie, and from the sound of things it is a passion that he himself shares. He asked - very sweetly! - if he could buy some of my panties. I let him know I was more than happy to accommodate his request, but I did point out there might be certain conditions that meant they were not pristine. Let me tell you about them.

It seems that one aspect of feminine underwear that Matt likes relates to the fabric concerned. For Matt, there is nothing to beat satin, and I agree with him one hundred percent. The idea of that gorgeous, practically frictionless fabric nestling close against my most intimate parts gets me thinking of the lovely cool sensation as it moves over my body. As luck would have it, his email came in at a particularly convenient time for me, so holding that lovely thought in my head I closed the lid on my laptop and headed to the bedroom. Having set up my camera, I selected a pair that I hoped would meet with Matt's approval and settled down to explore the sensuality of satin a little more deeply...

There are warm fabrics and there are cool fabrics, and to me, satin definitely falls into the cool category. Perhaps it was the way I was concentrating as I did this, but I felt a lovely little pang of chill spreading out from my pussy as I pulled the panties up tight. I opted for tight because I wanted to experience the way the fabric moulded itself to my body, so after a second or two, I sent my hand on a little voyage between my legs. I placed my fingertips gently against the puffiness there, and tried to focus in on the heat of my body - were my fingers warm on my pussy, or was it that my pussy was warm beneath my fingertips? I slid my fingers slowly, so slowly over the fabric as I tried to decide. Of course, I could not be sure, but one thing did become clear. The experiment was definitely arousing!

I closed my eyes a little and tried to make my fingers feel strange to me as if it was Matt's hand gently touching me there. I gave a little gasp as I formed the idea, and in some naughty way, my body responded, my buttocks gently lifting as if to make it easier for him. My thighs parted, and the fingers that were Matt's and yet not Matt's pressed tighter. I could imagine him close to me, the warmth of his breath on my cheek, and the sound of a gentle chuckle as he saw how much he was turning me on. I heard my breath coming faster and felt the insistent press of a middle finger moving across me down there, gently probing till it was sure it was between pussy lips then, quite forcefully, pushing between them, taking the fabric between my outer lips and into my body.

I was startled that he had been so direct, but glad of it. I felt the fabric changing texture as he fingered me, drinking in the eager secretions of a body that was doing his bidding, not mine. I put my head back and sighed, wanting more of him inside me, but the panties would only stretch so far. There was only one answer. I made him stop, teasing him with the anticipation that I knew both of us felt, those few painful seconds while I lifted my bottom, slid the panties down my thighs, then lifted my legs and eased them off. My middle finger - Matt's middle finger - found the broadest stretch of fabric, then brought it to my pussy lips once more. Another pause, a divine postponement of a pleasure that I had to have - and then I heard myself gasp as not one but two fingers pressed the damp satin deep inside.

I don't know if Matt would blush to hear me say it, expecting something more ladylike from me, perhaps, but right at that point my special place stopped being a pussy and started being a cunt, a bodily part for Matt to fill, two fingers wide and two knuckles deep. The fingers moved just so, knowing exactly how to leave that ladylike exterior behind in an urge to be fucked. I pictured myself lying under Matt, grunting slightly, as his fingers were replaced by a fine thick cock that he started to move inside me with just the right speed and just the right pressure. I felt my back arching as the pleasure went through me, imagined the way it would push my breasts up to flatten against his chest, felt the urge to wrap my legs around his waist so he couldn't pull out, then open my eyes to look into his, urging him to add his juices to mine inside me.

The climax passed. I had a sensation as if of warm lips on mine, and a tongue that was surprisingly shy to go into my mouth, and then it was as if I had rebooted - the bedroom lights seemed to fade down to normal brightness, there was no Matt, just Lorna, a woman panting as her orgasm faded, a woman slowly peeling the soft fabric from inside her, then looking for the plastic bag set aside to keep those panties as special as they could be for my lover Matt. I hope he enjoys them as much as I did!

…. And I hope you enjoy the photos as you watch the story unfold.

Sweet kisses,

Love Lorna Blu xxx
Sunday, August 26th 2018
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Top Hat and Satin Gloves
Hello, my horny friends,

You’ll love my latest set of photos …
There's a very famous aria from the opera 'Rigoletto' called 'La donna è mobile'. It's usually translated as 'woman is fickle', but that sounds a bit too judgemental to my mind! I prefer to think of it as free or light-spirited, in the sense of being very ready to change her mind when the mood suits her. For me, fickle is the kind of thing someone says when they feel as if they have been let down by a woman's change of mind and implies that it is always a bad thing. But sometimes that kind of change can turn out rather pleasantly for all concerned. As it did for Keith quite recently!

Keith is the kind of gentleman I enjoy visiting. For one thing he allows me to be myself, and when I'm in the right frame of mind that can be quite liberating. I went over to his place in a playful state of mind, with an outfit in black and white to match. It has a touch of musical theatre about it, and I decided to accessorise it with a hat and some very long gloves. So, with Keith as my audience, I started posing as if I had to project the sexy playfulness I was feeling to the back row of some theatre. The only thing was that Keith was much closer, just a few feet from the piano stool where I was flaunting myself, and before too long I could see he was getting the message loud and clear!

Part way through my show he brought me a glass of white wine and made quite certain that he touched my hand when he passed it to me. I could tell things were about to get a good bit more intimate, so I stopped posing and concentrated instead on the job in hand. I say that because I had in mind that hands would play a big part in what was going to happen between us.

'Do you like my gloves?' I asked.

(I was all set to tell him about a scene that another friend of mine has been dying to try with me, where I tie him up and teasingly bring him off by hand while wearing long, black silky gloves. He tells me they have to be black so that his sperm shows up as a nice contrast when it oozes down the side of his cock and onto the shiny black fabric in juicy thick, white gobbets, and he can see how much spunk he has shot for me. But I'm digressing!)

What Keith said to me was "Mmm...", which to me sounded more like a "meh!" than a "mmmMMM!". I realised that though he would have been happy to go with that - as would I - he would really rather be doing something else. I guessed he was more interested in getting his hands on me than the other way around. So, I stopped for a second and looked at him.

'Could you do me a favour please, Keith?'

I didn't want to come across as a helpless little lady, but I think there is very little that is more arousing for a man than to look into his eyes while you imagine making love with him, and let him know that you want him to fuck you.

'Could you help take off these stockings? This pair is one of my favourites and I don't want them getting laddered when we...'

I tailed off mischievously, letting him fill in the blank.

His touch was respectful and confident as he worked very slowly around my suspender belt, popping the fasteners one at a time. The accidental brushes of his fingers on the pale skin of my upper thighs got more and more frequent though. He had been hard from the start, but the little touches were starting to have an effect on me, and I realized that somehow, I had gone from being a tease to being teased myself. Not that I was complaining!

With the stockings safely put to one side, Keith walked back to where I was sitting and squatted down, quickly putting his head between my legs and kissing me deeply down there, as if I might change my mind about letting him do it if he didn't hurry! I put my legs behind his head to keep him there and started breathing heavily as his tongue explored me. I gave one or two little moans and told him I wanted him inside me, now. (There's no point playing hard to get when you're that turned on, I can assure you!)

'I see...' he said, taking his mouth from my pussy, then sat up.

In the space of no more than a couple of seconds he put his hand between my legs, and with just the right degree of directness pushed his middle finger deep inside me. I gasped as it went in, then moaned a little more as he moved his finger in and out, at the same time stroking the inside of my pussy, pressing upwards and outwards. I wasn't sure how he had decided that was just the thing to do but I laid back and let him do it because it was brilliant! After a few seconds, one finger became two, and I got wetter and wetter, and as his hand moved between my legs and his fingers stroked inside me I closed my eyes and let him make me come.

I sat there for a moment, letting him feel the pulsations of my orgasm through his fingers. When my breathing had slowed down to a more respectable rate I gently took hold of his hand, and transferred it from one set of lips to another, gently kissing and licking my own juices from his fingers. Then I gently but firmly held his fingers in mine, as I stood up.

'And now?' he said, smiling at me.

'Haven't you read this story?', I teased him. 'Act 2 takes place in the bedroom!'

'Ah yes, I remember it well!'

Which may not have been the right musical, but fitted the scene beautifully.

And the morale of the story is - it's not fickle, it's flexible. And just going with the flow can be so much fun sometimes!

I’ve made a video to go with the photos, so keep your eye out for that – when I get round to editing it!


Love Lorna Blu xxx
Sunday, August 19th 2018
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Dressed to Thrill
Hello everyone!

It probably wouldn't surprise you to hear I see myself more as a "quality" lady than a "quantity" lady. What was it they said about that Belgian lager - it's "reassuringly expensive"? Not that I consider I am really expensive, it's just I feel that the little extra you may pay for my time and companionship gets you rather more than the basic service! Take a look at my latest photoset, for example, while I tell you a little something about the gentleman involved.

He is a regular client, a good friend of mine and a man who does appreciate my little extra touches. As usual, Kenneth - I'll call him that - spent some time discussing our forthcoming meeting. Not all of my gentlemen friends do this, by any means, but although I can generally conjure up a suitably happy ending without specific dress instructions, a client who is clear on how he'd like me to dress can make my life easier and the meeting go more to our mutual satisfaction. I can fit in with his wishes and desires, knowing that he will be more likely to enjoy our time together if he has considered and come up with a preferred outfit for the occasion.

Kenneth has this down to a T. I won't go into all the details, but I'll give you a flavour of things.

"What top should I wear?"

"Well, overall I’m thinking more of a Lorna Black than a Lorna Blu."

"OK, I think I have just the very thing. It's quite a sensible blouse, really, but it has this gorgeous satin sheen to it and diamante buttons."

"The kind of black that looks good if a lady were to take a load into her mouth, then gently push it out so that it slips smoothly over her plump, shiny red lips and drops and spatters onto the swell of her breast, perhaps even onto her thighs, in thick white dribbles...?"

"I suppose it would. So, you're planning to do that, are you. You make me sound a little like a candelabra! What about if I tell you I'm planning to let you come in my mouth, then look into your eyes, say your name and then slowly swallow? You know how much I love the flavour of your sperm."

(I can't really describe the noise he made down the phone at this point, but I think it told me he liked the idea!)

"OK...and on your legs?"

"Fawn leggings, I thought. And maybe flip-flops."

"Well, you know what I Iike, and I know what you like. I was just teasing a little! Of course, it will be the usual, stockings, seamed Gios? Perhaps I could get you to check that the seams are nice and straight? Black, I assume?"


(Was it my imagination or had I heard the quiet "vrrr" of a zipper being eased down? I carried on.)

"And I thought the heels you bought me? The ones where I pushed the toe between my pussy lips a little, then made you put it into your mouth..."


"There is one thing with those shoes though, darling..."

"And that is...?"

"Well, I was thinking, if we stand in front of the mirror again, and I bend over keeping my legs straight, so you can admire their reflection as I go down on you, I do need to bend very low if I'm going to get your cock all the way into my throat."

(I imagined the jolt as he heard me say that.)

"So you'll have to be nice and hard for me, my sweetheart. Can you manage that?"

(I knew that wouldn't be a problem for Kenneth, but I just wanted him to think a little!)

"Perhaps I can check as soon as we get into the room, darling. Just slowly press my hand into your crotch."


(He seemed to have given up all pretence of dignity.)

"Kenneth! I do hope you're not masturbating there!"

"What, no, just...adjusting my position..."

"Well, don't adjust it too much! I'm looking forward to getting a lot of spunk out of you when we meet. Do you know what I think I might do?"

"Tell me."

"I think I'll go into the room with you. The instant the door closes I will turn to face you -not too quickly, mind, and take a step towards you. Close enough that our chests might meet if we both breathe in together. I will touch your cock, to make sure I have your interest, then I will lean in that fraction closer and French kiss you. Deeply. All right so far?"


"The last time I kissed you, I distinctly remember your cock twitching when I put my tongue in your mouth. So I am going to do it again, as much tongue as I can give you. Filling your mouth. Then, when I can sense you wondering if I'll ever let you breathe again, I'll unzip you, release you, and bend down to suck you to full hardness."


"Kenneth! Are you sure you're not wanking?"

"No, Lorna, no. I promise."

"Good boy! Because when I have got you stiff enough, I will get onto the bed, show you my body in all its finery, then invite you to do something with me. Do you know what?"

There was a pause, then a voice that seemed to have just the right amount of wonder and desire.


I counted to three, then whispered four words. Each distinct, separate and unmistakable.

"Whatever. You. Fucking. Want."

There was silence for a second or two, and I was a little concerned I may have overdone things.


I laughed, but gently. With affection, not ridicule.

"So that's tomorrow, right? Six o'clock. And remember - no wanking!"

In hindsight I probably did over-egg the pudding a little on the phone call. The next night he made it through the door, the touching, the deep kissing part. He even managed to get through my straight-legged blow job, eyes drinking in the sight of my stocking-clad legs as I took his cock deep into my mouth. But then, just as we were on the bed getting slightly better acquainted, his body suddenly stiffened and he gave a long moan as I felt jet after jet of hot cum flowing over my calf, drenching the black nylon in thick, potent gobbets of silvery-grey semen.

He looked a little apologetic, but I told him it was a lovely compliment. There was no way he faked that orgasm!

Or the other two I gave him that night, come to that...

Love and kisses,

Lorna Blu xxx
Saturday, August 11th 2018
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Musing while dressing
Yipee, it’s weekend!

I was spending a little time recently multi-tasking. No, not the sort where I have two gentlemen's needs to attend to, but the sort where it turned out while doing one thing I was also doing another.

The thing I was really doing was getting ready to go out to a meeting, which means getting showered and presentable, drying my hair, picking some interesting lingerie, then covering it all up in something that somehow combines nicely respectable with highly fuckable. It sometimes amazes me that I manage to pull it off, as I don't exactly have a planned standard look, but I usually find some way of dressing that has the desired effect. I myself put it down to my twinkly-eyed smile, but one of my regulars is a bit more basic - "Face it, Lorna. You just can't hide tits that good." The old romantic, eh?

Anyway, I got my mobile out to take a few photos as I was getting ready this time. It's kind of a weird approach, as I start out undressed and get more and more clothed as time passes. (I think of it as a pirts, which is a strip in reverse.) At the same time, however, as I get more dressed up I am getting closer and closer to the time when I set off, and by extension closer and closer to the time when the sexual element of our meeting will get underway, so you'll sometimes see me looking more aroused the more fully dressed I am. There's usually a point in the proceedings where I wonder how he'll want to take me and I like to think that comes across in the photos. Just take a look at some of my photosets and I'm sure you'll see the one where I remember I'll have a new lover's cock inside me soon!

The gentleman in question this time was someone I have seen before a few times. There isn't the same thrill of novelty, but on the other hand, the familiarity can be even better. He is more relaxed because he has a pretty good handle on what to do for our mutual pleasure.

I like a man who is generous with his pleasure-giving. I make no promises, but I am often prepared to indulge the tastes, let's say, of a man who is prepared to see that my needs get attended to as well. I have a few gentlemen friends who are *very* gifted when it comes to oral stimulation (yes you RC!), and they find me willing to treat them especially well in return. Then there is the lovely friend of mine from just across the water, who must go weeks without relieving himself, given the amount he can pump over my face and body. I am amazed just how good it feels to work on his cock, pick up those signs that tell me he is getting close, then sit back and shove my chest out so he can shoot his load onto my tits. The guy comes for ages, jet after jet of hot cream on me...hold on, I may need to break off for a moment here and regain some composure!

There's such a range of experiences, from the guys who like to take charge and pound me for as long as they can, to the gentler guy who spends ages kissing and caressing me, whispering how much he wants me. (Both of these guys exist and both have got me to come, by the way!)

There is no right or wrong way to do this; it is either pleasant or it isn't, and even if it isn't the sort of sex that changes your life this time around, there's no reason it couldn't be better next time around. So Lorna's motto for the day - practice makes perfect. Or at least bloody good fun.

Now, if I can just get back to my preparations, this frilly number is for Mr J near Preston. Lovely guy, good conversationalist and keen to explore 69. No grounds for complaint there, I think. You know, it's times like this I love my job!

Sweet kisses to you all.

Lorna Blu xxx

Ps, I’ve just been editing the photos … strange how you can see inside my pussy through the glass dildo!
Sunday, August 5th 2018
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A Girls Only Interlude
Hello everyone,

How I love a Sunday. Hope you’re enjoying yours.

You’re going to LOVE my next set of photos … where I have a wonderful, intimate time with my beautiful friend Curvy Claire.

Let me tell you what happened …

The bullfighters have a word for it, that point where things become more serious. They call it "the moment of truth". My Spanish isn't good enough to attempt it, but I didn't need to know how to say it, in order to know that it had arrived. And it happened with the most innocuous of phrases,

"So Lorna, would you like to get on the bed?"

This was said to me by Claire. We had gone overseas for some reliable hot weather (OK, with the benefit of hindsight!) to take a few photos of three busty ladies cavorting by warm water under a baking sun, and things had gone very well during the day. But now that it had come time to do a one-on-one shoot with Claire, for some reason I had got a little nervous.

Don't get me wrong, I have spent quite a bit of time with attractive ladies over the years, but for some reason I was finding it a little harder to deal with Claire. I have noticed this happening from time to time with women, I notice that the timbre of the voice changes, moving accents slightly. I sometimes notice a slight buzzy sensation, a light-headedness, as if I'm not completely myself, and it's as if I'm watching things that Lorna does without really knowing why she is doing them. I always like to feel a little tingle of affection with my escort clients, it's great to have sex with someone you click with. The only thing was I wasn't expecting to feel like that on a professional photo shoot.
So, there we were, standing side by side. Claire somehow seemed taller than I remembered, so I was looking up at her, my gaze flicking from the freckles on the bridge of her nose to the way her fine green eyes seemed to be widening for me. I felt a gentle brushing of fingertips on my skin, then her hand closed over my right breast and pressed, just enough to let me know she was there. Sometimes I want a lover to take the lead, not necessarily doing things to hurt me but so I feel that I enjoy them taking their pleasure from my body. Claire's touch was more tender, more in tune with the way I would do it to another, more taking pleasure from my pleasure. It was a different kind of wanting, but it was just as effective in its way.

Something other than the poolside drinks during the day was getting to me now. I felt something like the gentle buzz of bees inside my head, and dreamily got onto the bed. With Claire's hand still holding my bosom If had that growing sensation of my heart being in my mouth that I equate with falling in love, and I had it bad with Claire, so the pictures you see here are rather more than posed photos; think of this set as a record of a first date fuck.

We posed for those "making out" photos that go down so well - her hands on my breasts, mine gently caressing her legs, the faint 'zzz' of the nylon under my fingers sounding so loud to me. The first kiss we shared was chaste, lips touching lips. I wanted more though and didn't move away once the picture had been taken. I could feel a smile forming on Claire's lips, then just as the cameraman stepped back to move one of the lights she pushed that little bit closer and did what I hoped she would, gently pressing her tongue between my lips. I moved forward and opened my mouth a little, letting her know I was hers to take. It felt more than a little sluttish but I didn't care.
We parted after a few seconds and she whispered something that I didn't quite catch, then we went back to posing, each photo a little more undressed than the one before, each time the touch of her fingers on my body - and the feel of hers under mine - making me that little bit wetter, a little bit more eager, a little more ready to let her do what she wanted with me.

We kissed and stroked some more. Every now and again I gave a little involuntary twitch as something she did to me - all innocuous touches! - caused me to react. She gave me a meaningful look as she eased the straps from my shoulders to release my breasts. Then, with a gentle but firm touch on my shoulder she pushed me back on the bed, in a way that got my nipples hardening and my breath coming faster as if I had run to be with her. I made a low, growling noise at the back of my throat as her head moved closer and her lips closed around my nipple, first the right, then the left, combining delicate chewing motions with prolonged suckling. I smiled and held her there, wishing that I had the milk to give to my red-headed lover and satisfy her.

Then, with an almost terse 'Your turn', Claire peeled her bra down, pressed firm nipples into the flesh of my bosom and kissed me once more. I bent and took her nipple between my lips, biting gently on the exquisite flesh of her nipple. She started panting and lifted my head to hers. I saw her looking me over as if she was searching for a weak spot, so I showed her one, gazing heavy-lidded into her eyes and begging her to use me. I closed my eyes, imploring, and felt my jaw forced open by the pressure of her kiss, my mouth suddenly full of her flavour as her tongue went all the way in. I moaned, put my hands to her breasts and squeezed, hoping she would reciprocate.

'Finger me.'

It wasn't a request. I was thrilled all the same. I put my hand flat to the flesh of her crotch, then eased past the thin strip of panty cloth to put my finger inside her. I thrilled as I heard her moan. She bent over, and I sent my fingers on a voyage of discovery, sliding my hands over her bum cheeks, then pulling her lips delicately apart before penetrating her with one finger. She moaned again, then pulled away, switching places with me, peeling down the pink panties that were my last line of defence. She caressed me, gently fingered me a little, then as if to test I was ready put her mouth to me and pushed her tongue inside me. The sweet wetness that would have flooded onto her tongue will have been all she needed to know. She produced from nowhere a black rubber toy shaped a little like a punctuation mark, and gently but relentlessly forced it between my pussy lips until I was full.

The moaning I could hear now was mine, in response to a wave of pleasure that was partly down to the skill of her tongue on me and the feeling of the black rubber toy she was working inside my pussy. I let her do what she wanted. I came, then she made me come again, then she told me it was her turn. She made me lick my juices from the toy, then ordered me to "put it into her cunt". I twisted and turned it, and put my mouth to where her lips met, to drink Claire's juices and tease the clitoris I could feel under my tongue. I was dimly aware of the camera flash going, but we were both lost in the pleasure we were giving each other.

The room was dark when I woke. I had no way of knowing how long I had slept, but from the adjoining room, I heard the sound of Claire's other half giving her a noisy seeing-to, the little gasps and moans in response of each slap of his body into hers. I felt odd; I knew for certain that what had happened this evening would not be mentioned in the morning and I felt a little betrayed almost, but still horny as hell. I wondered about joining them but decided it wouldn't be right. I lay alone in the warm darkness of the Mediterranean night, then decided there was only one way I was going to get back to sleep. My hand went between my thighs, and I masturbated as I listened to my erstwhile lover getting fucked...

Sweet kisses,

Love Lorna Blu xxx
Saturday, July 28th 2018
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The Heat Wave
Hello all,

By the time you read this, it is possible the weather may have broken a little and given us some rain. I know we are not supposed to complain about a spell of sunny weather here in the UK, but I think it's safe to say the novelty has worn off by now!

My mood would probably be a bit better if I hadn't had a problem with my car. Yes, you've guessed it, the first time I've wanted to use the air conditioning on my car for goodness knows how long and it wasn't working! It seems I wasn't the only car owner to have this problem though, my trusted local garage was very busy fixing this same complaint on half the cars in my area. I know I could have gone elsewhere, but the owner and I have this little understanding that often sees my bills discounted by generous amounts. I won't go into too much detail but every now and again a little wining, dining and cavorting have seen some substantial repair bills come down quite considerably. I don't think you can put a price on loyalty, can you?

Anyway, a few days back I made it to the head of the queue and was duly refilled. Apparently, a long time without using the air con can give rise to little leaks in the system, and a little leak given long enough can mean no cool breeze for Lorna. Well, I suppose it's an excuse to drive knickerless!

Having made an arrangement with Alan to attend to his needs when things have got back to normal at the garage, I set off to treat myself to a solo picnic in my lovely cool car. I thought with the weather this good I would take my camera out and get some nice al fresco shots, so I headed out to a little place I know that is quite nearby, set up my camera and began to pose.

My M&S sandwich hadn't lasted too long, so I sat down, undressed to reveal a judicious amount of skin (plus the obligatory stockings and suspenders) and read through a magazine while the auto function on my mobile did its stuff. The article wasn't all that fascinating, and my mind started wandering onto the subject of Josh, one of the younger guys who works in Alan's garage. In the past, he has been offered to me to go along on test runs, in case some motor repair needs looking at while I take the car on a test drive, and in fact, he did come along with me once when I was having ignition problems sorted out. He seems a pleasant chap, but he wasn't a natural conversationalist. Or perhaps he was a little affected by my direct manner?

Anyway, at one point while the air con was being attended to, I saw him at the back of the garage, reaching up under a vehicle that had been jacked up high. It was too hot for overalls, it seemed, so he was just in shorts. I was surprisingly struck by his body. Wiry, I would say, rather than muscular, but if he had an inch of fat on him then I couldn't see it! The thought came back to me as I started on some naughtier pictures, putting my lunchtime banana to a use that Tesco's wouldn't normally advertise!
I started to fantasise as I did. I closed my eyes a little, easing the banana inside myself, and let the mobile click away while I wondered if Josh had a girlfriend.

My fantasy took the form of a safe sex encounter, safe because I would tell him we weren't allowed to touch each other, and he wasn't even allowed to touch himself until I said so. I pictured him looking hungrily at my tantalising mature body, off limits while I twisted myself into naughty poses, teased myself with the banana, and generally worked myself up to a nice, near-orgasm state. I thought of the way his eyes would drink in the golden-brown valley between my breasts, the stomach I was showing him as I pulled up my skirt to fuck myself, and the smooth thighs that would close around the young man's waist to pull him deep inside me, if only that were allowed.

I closed my eyes as the orgasm went through me, drifting into that dreamlike state that washes over me sometimes when I’ve come. I imagined nodding to Josh, giving him permission to do what he must be dying to do. I thought of the look his face would have as he shyly unzipped, reaching into his pants to bring out a penis for a woman old enough to be his mother, but very willing to be his lover.

In my mind's eye, I saw a beautiful cock, dark as my tanned thighs, hints of mauve and purple in the veins along its length, foreskin peeling back from the plum-like head as he got harder. I pictured him at first standing by my feet, then teasingly asking if he wouldn't like to get a little closer, till he was standing over me, one foot planted each side of my hips, slowly rubbing himself as he devoured my body with his eyes.

I imagined myself sitting up, my hands on the floor behind me, a coy look on my face as my eyes flicked between his face and his cock, inviting him closer so his penis is just a few inches from my face, licking my lips wantonly to make him want me more. I thought he might try to make me take him into my mouth, but a gentle shake of the head reminds him that no touching is allowed. Besides, I have something else in mind.

'I like to see a man come, Josh,' I tell him, 'wouldn't you like to show me how much you want me?'

I gently tap my breastbone with the fingertips of my right hand.

'Right here. Aim here. Point that cock at me and aim at my heart.'

His breathing speeds up. He must be close. I count to three, then stop playing even slightly fair.

I wiggle my chest from side to side just a fraction, then whisper,

'Give it to me now, Josh. Soak my tits with your sperm.'

So he does.

That's the thing with younger men, they seem to come so very much when handled correctly. Or not handled, in this case! I might be fantasising, but I bet I wouldn't be far wrong, I picture great ropes of lovely shiny spunk splashing onto my breasts, forming puddles on the top, then trickling slowly into my cleavage and down onto my thighs, juicy grey splashes of semen lost in the snakeskin patterns of my dress.

I must have dozed off after my banana session. I woke, thankfully not too exposed, but a little disappointed not to find myself covered in Josh's juice. I packed up the camera and the blanket and drove myself home, wondering if I dared to drop by the garage and invent a funny noise the engine might be making. Maybe one for the future...

Hope you enjoy the very naughty pics to go with my tale ;-)

Love Lorna Blu xxx
Sunday, July 22nd 2018
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Skinny Dipping
Hello my horny friends,

As I’m appearing as ‘Escort of the Day’ today, I’d like to thank all of you who messaged, emailed and called me … such great feedback – I’m really grateful.

I’ve just posted my latest photoset – Skinny Dipping. There are some tasteful shots of me posing solo by a swimming pool that were taken during my recent break in Spain. The brilliant sunshine really brings photos to life, I feel, but as you'll see from the angle of the shadows the sun was high - and rather unforgiving - so it didn't take me long to decide it might be nice to slip into the pool, rather than just bake on the recliner. Having taken that step, it seemed quite natural to strip off the few garments that were keeping me modest and cavort as nature intended in the warm sunshine.
I could really have done with someone to massage sunscreen into my particularly sensitive parts, but as it turned out this pool interlude didn't last too long! After only a relatively few shots my photographer told me he was very keen to slip into something warm, wet and inviting himself, and once I had realised he didn't mean the pool we were back in a cool shady room during the midday sun. I won't go into too much detail about how we spent the afternoon, but he insisted on checking me over for signs of sunburn very diligently. Well, it seemed as good a way of any of passing the time while he got his second wind. (Incidentally, for those of you who are connoisseurs of naughty thoughts, have a look at the photos of me posing naked by the pool, holding that little sheer black garment. See if you can tell that I have just been fucked - twice - since the demure recliner pics!
No, the story this brings to mind is from a few years back, when I decided I needed a break from things and flew off to Spain by myself. It wasn't the height of summer, so the hotel I booked into was reasonably quiet, but the weather was still warm enough for someone raised on British weather to consider it quite balmy. It was certainly warm enough to recline by an otherwise empty pool, on an otherwise nearly empty sun terrace. I say nearly empty because clearly another British woman had felt the need for some solo sunshine. She was mixed race and looked a similar age to myself; perhaps a little taller and also smaller-breasted than I was in a way that I sometimes envy. (Not many of my gentleman friends agree with me on this point, however!)
We had exchanged a brief greeting when we met, and from her "good morning" I thought I picked up the hint of a Welsh accent. That was about as far as our conversation went, however, and after breakfast that first day I was happy to leave it at that. The reason was about six feet two of local Spanish manhood who, to my delight, was employed to bring drinks to holidaymakers on the terrace, handle a drinks tray with an outrageous flourish and apparently flirt like hell with solitary women.
It took me less than fifteen minutes to decide a little light refreshment would not go amiss in the heat. Roberto took his time bringing it, and I was deep into chapter two of my holiday paperback when I heard a polite cough and glanced up from my book to see what looked an awful lot like the outline of a fat, half-erect cock clearly visible through Roberto's tight trousers. A little taken aback I glanced up to his face, where some of the brightest teeth I have ever seen were smiling in an expression that seemed, to a guilty little Lorna to say "Yes, I know exactly what you were looking at." I couldn't remember my room number and searching in my handbag for the key I found a few notes. I handed over enough for the drink plus a little tip. He smiled again and inclined his head slightly and I just knew he held my virtue in the palm of his hand. The thing was, so did he.
I watched the trousers and the taut legs inside them make their way back to the bar, diverting along the way to attend to my new Welsh acquaintance. He leaned over her as listened to her request, then nodded politely and rose to fetch her order. As he did I saw her put her hand to his leg, patting his thigh the way you might praise a dog. He was still for a second, and after the slightest of pauses, I saw her thumb move, following the outline of the head of his cock with her nail, before coming to rest with the flesh of her thumb pressing against him. He let her do that for a second, then something happened that I didn't see clearly and she lifted her hand away a couple of inches, squeaking slightly in surprise.
I was really very curious now, and though I turned back to my book and tried to read, the words were just meaningless shapes on the page. I made myself wait a few moments, so as not to look like someone who should be in rehab rather than on holiday, then waved at Roberto, holding up my empty glass. Downing that much sangria so quickly was probably not a great idea, and with the healthy - ok, small - breakfast I had eaten, it went to my head slightly. I smiled a gleaming smile as he came up to me. He squatted by the recliner. Once again my eyes drifted to his crotch. He was smiling at me when I looked back at his face.
'Is there something I can do for you, Mrs...?'
'Mrs' was really not the right thing to say to me at that point in my life, but I was quite willing to let that pass in his case.
'Lorna...that is a beautiful name. You are Scottish, or have family there, perhaps?'
'How did you know? You're very...perceptive.'
'Thank you, and you are very attractive.'
His English was impeccable, I did hope that the slight accent was not fake and he wasn't really from Luton or something. Though right then I could have forgiven him anything
'Could I have another of these, please?'
'Anything for such a beautiful lady.'
He gave me another dazzling smile. I caught myself swooning, and on the point of wondering whether our kids would be bilingual. I got back to the task in hand, namely pretending to read while I peered over the book and watched the most beautiful buttocks for miles make their way back to the bar. I frowned a little as he diverted to Miss Wales again. She hadn't been quite so quick to drain her glass, I noticed, so perhaps she was getting an order in advance. I caught her looking across at me as she spoke to him, and he looked across as well. I half put my hand up in a wave, feeling more than a little foolish, and he smiled at me. It looked as if I was doing a little better in the flirting stakes than she was. Then he turned and paid attention to her, nodding as she said something. I saw both of them glance at me, then he was nodding at her. He stood and headed to the bar. I pretended to return to my book. I was sure she was doing the same.
It was three fake page-turns later that he came back with my drink. I thanked him, then realised I still didn't have the foggiest idea what my room number was. I started digging for cash again. I had just enough to cover the drink. He took it and made to leave.
'Wait a minute, i..., I really should give you a tip....'
He squatted by my recliner.
'You wish to reward me?'
I'd have had him on that terrace there and then, and to hell with Miss Wales.
I was all of a sudden very conscious of how much like a teenager I must have sounded as my voice trailed off.
'OK. Look at me.'
I stared deep into mesmerising brown eyes, the thick, dark brows moving slightly as he smiled again. Making sure I could tell it was no mistake, he slowly stretched out his hand and took hold of my right breast, gently but firmly squeezing the flesh beneath his fingertips.
Of course I let him. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, I let him feel me up as I, in turn, pretended to ask an innocent question.
'What did you do to the Welsh woman that made her jump?'
'You mean Jess?'
He looked across to her lounger. I followed his eyes and saw her looking back at us, watching intently as Roberto fondled me. Her mouth was parted slightly as if she was eager to be on my lounger instead. I smiled at her.
'Yes,' I said languidly, 'Jess. Why did she squeak like that?'
'I will show you,' he said, 'put your hand just as she did.'
I made sure she saw as I put my fingers on the oh-so-tight trousers. She was staring in fascination as I began the same movement, my thumb pressing into the bulge of his shaft half-way along its length, then following it to the tip. Suddenly, without any movement of his legs, Roberto made his cock twitch and swell, pushing my thumb back a little as it grew. Despite myself, I pulled back and made exactly the same squeak she had. He laughed gently.
I wasn't sure what to do now. I didn't really want to get into a drinking game with Jess, where the last woman standing got to fuck the waiter or something. I think he saw the hint of alarm on my face. He let his hand linger a second more, then we were back to being a respectable customer and waiter. Almost.
'Thank you for giving me the tip. And now I have something for you. I had to go back to the bar for paper before, but I have it now.'
One eyebrow raised he presented me with a folded slip of paper. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Jess packing away her paperback and heading back to the main hotel building. To the victor go the spoils, I thought to myself. I looked back at Roberto, but he was already moving on around the gardens, tidying things up as he went. Of course, he had to maintain the appearance of business as usual. As casually as I could I unfolded the paper. The handwriting was firm and large - hardly a surprise, I thought! - and he was clearly a man of few words.
'Room 131. 15 minutes. Come to me.'
I flushed. I folded the note neatly, thinking of a time to come when I would treat this little piece of paper as a memory of a horny sexual encounter, and finished my drink slowly, savouring the fruit flavours and the melting ice with each sip. There was no sign of Roberto as I put down my empty glass. Perhaps he was already there. Should I play it cool? There wasn't much point to that, between him squeezing my tits and me rubbing his cock there was little doubt we were both on the same page of the script. If anything, I probably needed to hurry a little, in case he only had a half-hour break or something. Ordinarily, I would have felt a little demeaned at being fitted into a meal-break like that, but right then I was feeling so damn horny. I walked through reception, climbed the stairs - the lift would have taken too long - and found myself outside 131 more or less straight away.
I could see the door was ajar. I didn't bother knocking. I moved quietly inside, found the "do not disturb" sign and hung it on the handle, then pushed it to. With the door closed the room was dark. I took a deep breath and walked into the room proper.
'Thank god you're here.'
That wasn't a Spanish accent.
In the low light from the bedside fittings, I saw Jess. Naked, spread-eagled on the bed face up, a large, silent vibrator jutting from her crotch. Startled I looked away, then glanced back. I could see the thin cords looped several times around each ankle then pulled tight around the leg of the bed. I could see how a similar arrangement fastened her left hand to the post by the pillow, but the right was still free.
'The last hand is always a bit of a sod to get tight. Would you mind?'
Dreamily I pulled her arm outwards and wrapped the ropes around the bedpost.
'A bit tighter, please? I can still get loose here! A bow knot will do to finish off, if that's all you know. Just as long as I can't reach it.'
I did as I was told. I thought I had hurt her when I tugged the rope tighter, but she just smiled and gave me that heavy-lidded look of desire I had seen while Roberto was groping me.
'OK, what do I do now?'
She smiled again, hungry, randy, anticipating.
'Anything - you - want.'
She clearly meant that literally. She let it sink in a little, then gestured with her head towards a group of paddles, crops and straps on the dressing table.
'There are some toys over there for later if you like, but seeing as it took me long enough to get into this position, why don't you start by turning this rabbit on?'
I nodded, turned the base, and listened to the grunt of relief as the motor started spinning the plastic inside her.
'And now?'
'I reckon you're probably all fired up after letting young Roberto tit you up out there. Why don't you ditch the swimming costume, sit on my face, and let my Welsh tongue take your mind off his Spanish meat for a bit? It's been ages since I had some lovely English pussy.'
My head was spinning slightly. I don't know whether it was the heat, the drink, the waiter or this willing victim wanting me to take her and do anything to her. Then I felt the dampness in my pants and realised what I needed to do. I walked to the door and locked it, then stripped naked in front of my eager captive audience of one and climbed onto the bed.
'I believe you are called Jess,' I said, 'My name is Lorna.'
I couldn't make out her reply ...

Sweet kisses,

Stay Horny!

Love Lorna Blu xxx
Saturday, July 14th 2018
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Lorna Blu and Jet Lag
Dear Horny Friends,

I love travelling, but there is one aspect of it I could well do without ... Jet lag - that dreadful thing where your body clock and local time don't match up, and you're asleep while everyone's awake. Or awake when everyone's asleep. Fortunately, while I can't do much about the first, I have a way of making the second more bearable. And that's where you come in...

In the hours since I landed I have found that Japan is amazing, the hotel is excellent, my room is comfortable and the bed just calls out to me to fall asleep on this wonderful mattress. The only thing is that although my mind knows it is the early hours my body is convinced it is lunchtime.

I can't be the only woman who has found herself drifting off to sleep after making love. I know oh so many men who do the same! So that is why you're here, perhaps a little surprised that I sought you out as a fellow night owl, and probably more than a little sceptical of my offer - asking you to give me a few moments to freshen up before coming up to my room. But when I answered your tentative knock at the door wearing only this nightie and a dazzling smile- yes, it was for real. I need to be fresh for tomorrow's business meeting, you see, so you'll be doing me a favour.

It has to be on my terms though. Let me take the lead, my darling. I promise you won't regret it! I sense a little reluctance at first, but when I gently press my body to yours, and you feel the warmth of my full, braless breasts moulding themselves to your chest you are happy to accept. Happy also to accept my lips on yours, to wait a second, then feel my tongue inside your mouth. You try to put your hand on my bosom, but that would push us apart and I want you close right now. Instead you do as I do, put your arms around me my shoulders and pull us together. Your hand slips down and cups my buttock. That is fine by me. I wiggle gently against you and press my crotch against yours. My smile broadens at your stiffness and we kiss again, this time your tongue in my mouth. We break apart, I grin, then reach down and unzip you, leading you to the bed by your cock.

You wonder why I am rubbing you so much, you know you cannot last long. With my free hand I take yours and place it on my breast, wiggling slightly to push the full warm globe in your hand tight into you, flesh pressing between your fingertips and a hard nipple stabbing into your palm. You don't want to come so quickly, but it's my show, remember? I slow down a little, but not enough to stop what happens next. My fingertips are barely touching your cock as you come, and the gorgeous shiny liquid drips over my hand like wax from a melted candle. You're a little breathless now but watch eagerly as I look you in the eye and lick my hand clean.

You wonder what comes next, and I answer you by turning this way and that upon the bed, my nightie riding higher, revealing flashes of my legs, my bottom and more, till in the end I lose patience with it, and shrug it from my shoulders. I am naked now, and eager. I allow you to kiss my nipple briefly, then lift your head with a gentle hand on your cheek.

'Right, it's your turn to freshen up. The shower is over there. No skimping - I want to be able to taste soap on very part of your body. And I will be checking!'

A little naughty smile. From both of us.

'That hand job was just to take the edge off things a little. When you come back from the shower I'll be here, like this' - I lay back on the pillows, my hands crossed discreetly over my pussy, my upper arms pushing my naked breasts together into a second set of pillows - 'and the second time you come you'll be inside me. But a minimum of half an hour lovemaking first.'

Your cock is already twitching back to life. Perhaps the prospect has made you a bit bolder, bold enough to speak for the first time.

'Or else?'

I struggle to keep a straight face. You can't miss the twinkle in my eye as I try my best to make this sound like a threat as I send you to the bathroom.

'Or else we'll have to keep doing it until you get it right!'

I like the way your eyes crease when you smile. I can tell I'm going to enjoy waking up with you.

Have a great weekend!

Lots of love,

Lorna Blu xxx
Saturday, July 7th 2018
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Come on England!
Hello my Horny friends,

Such an exciting day today!

If I'm up to date with my postings, this will be going up onto my profile the same day that England takes on Sweden in the World Cup quarter-final.

(You didn't think I was going to ignore it completely, did you?!)

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I found myself watching the last England game by myself, dressed pretty much as you see me in these shots. OK, the way I saw it I might not have been able to hold his undivided attention through the whole evening, but I was pretty sure I could come off the bench to good effect towards the end of the match! The only thing was that my intended for the evening failed a late fitness test - something about a forgotten anniversary, I think the voice message said - which left me watching the match alone.

Now so many people had been telling me that England had a penalty shoot-out curse of many years' standing, and although it wasn't something that would normally affect me, this time around I could feel a knot of tension building as the game went on, and England first of all let their lead slip away, then couldn't re-establish themselves over extra time. I heard someone on the commentary say they needed to have prepared psychologically for going into penalties, to find a way to make the unbearable not just bearable but turn it into a route to pleasure. Something clicked in my mind at that point, and I prepared my own little mental strategy for handling this unwelcome outcome.

I slipped off to my bedroom cupboard and took out one of my particular favourite toys., just in case. Some vibrators are just that bit more successful at imposing themselves on one's body, and this one fitted the bill completely.

I do like playing sex games, you see, situations where I kind of take myself out of the driving seat and let myself be dictated to. Often, it's a nice confident male, but on this occasion, it was going to be my battery-powered lover and the individual outcomes of each of the penalties. I knew that a kick would either result in a goal or not a goal - save or miss didn't matter to me here - and the game I decided to play was that in each case a goal would see the toy sliding into me (for as long as it took to set up the next kick), whereas a miss would mean I would hit the off switch and take my buzzy friend out, again for the time taken to arrange the next penalty. It seemed a good way of approaching things, and I allowed myself a little "warm-up" time, with my toy on a medium setting.

The choice of fantasy plays a crucial part in a decent session of what I call "rabbit time", and in this case, the team nature of the game played a part. I am not normally someone who goes in for group sex, but on this occasion, it seemed only natural to have a series of lovers fuck me, one after another. I got a little naughty with my fantasy and set the referee the task of holding me down while the others took their turns. I was already quite well along the road to orgasm when the final whistle blew for the end of extra time, and I settled down to follow the twists and turns of the contest.

I gave each of my fantasy lovers the time it took to score or miss to enjoy my body. I didn't get too involved with their appearance, but the approach to each penalty dictated how that particular fuck went. The confident men, smashing each shot home in unstoppable style turned into fast, hard fucks, with those players filling me with their cream after sex where they were too aroused to last long. Those who placed their shots, gently sidefooting the ball home after a bit of body language subterfuge to confuse the keeper, became the slower, gentler lovers who looked to give me pleasure at the same time they were taking theirs. It takes all sorts to make for a hot fantasy, I find!

If you saw the penalties you'll see that it wasn't all plain sailing! I was on the verge of a lovely little climax when one miss each by an Englishmen and a Colombian meant I had to remove my vibrator at a crucial point in proceedings. Now I can see how edging and spoiling orgasms must feel for guys - remind me to try that sometime - any willing victims? The next show was a goal for England. Yes! I eased the toy into my pussy and felt the vibrations taking me back to where I was so close before. Just a little more - just a little more. Then on the very next penalty, the lovely English goalkeeper stuck out a strong, firm arm and deflected the ball away. I was almost on the verge of coming, so close I swear I could have thought myself to orgasm without the toy! I stayed like that, agonisingly on the edge, poised as delicately as the contest itself. The commentator scared me by mentioning the prospect of sudden death - a fate that sounded quite possible if I didn't get to come soon - but thankfully the final England penalty taker didn't falter. He stepped up thoughtfully and planted the final shot just out of a despairing goalkeeper's reach. I mentally treated him by thinking of him finishing hard and fast inside me, then brought myself off a second time as the team hugged and celebrated together.

I have read the reports since then that say that the England penalty jinx has finally been laid. And, even though it wasn't quite what I was expecting, in a way so was I! I am not sure if I'm in that much of a hurry to repeat my penalty gang-bang fantasy (remember what I said about variety?), so if I find myself playing solo this afternoon I may come up with a way of masturbating that rewards a victory at the end of 90 minutes!

Hope you enjoy my really naughty Footie photos.

Fingers crossed!

Love Lorna Blu xxx
Wednesday, June 27th 2018
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Sun, Sea and Soccer?
Hello my Horny friends,

I have been away on a couple of longish trips in quick succession since my last blog post. I have tried to keep in touch and answer messages but if it wasn't possible in your case please accept my apologies. I will try and make it up to you!

The first of my trips was to somewhere unfeasibly hot - no, not Hampshire, silly! I was invited to join my beautiful and sexy friends Claire and Mel in the most stunning of settings in sunny Spain.
Well we did a couple of shoots, involving items such favourites as brilliant sunshine, warm water, heaving bosoms, bikinis and plunging necklines. I think you'll agree the overall effect is very stimulating - there's something about a topless pool photo that just calls out to the guys and makes them want to be in it (just have a look at my latest updates and see if that isn't true!).
If you're anything like the guys who write to me with ideas and suggestions you might well come up with a fantasy or two about what happened in the evenings, after the cameras had been put away. Now if I was to be a bit of a tease I might say that what goes on during an overseas shoot stays on an overseas shoot, and just let you wonder what we got up to. Or I might just tell you that it was all very professional and above board, and that we saved the sexy feelings up to make sure the pictures were as good as they could be. In fact, that would be true as well, up to a point. Most evenings we were just a group of five friends having a lovely meal and a glass or two of wine. Except that wouldn't be the whole story either...
It was the evening of the "pool" shoot, about halfway through the trip. Things had gone well - as I say, you can tell that from the photos - and we finished a little earlier than usual. That mean the evening meal got brought forward, the wine drinking started a little earlier, and we were in very good spirits. And then someone made a dreadful mistake and put the TV on. Even then things could have been rescued, but the first thing that came on screen was a football match, and instantly I could see the guys were ready to watch whatever teams were involved (and no, I don't know, all I can tell you is that it wasn't the World Cup). Being single I didn't get sent to look for cold beers to keep the hunter gatherers happy, so I headed back to my room to try and catch up on emails and left Claire and Mel to attend to their menfolk.
I think the novelty must have worn off quite early, as it wasn't all that long before there was a polite knock at my door. It was Mel, carrying two glasses and a chilled bottle of the local fizzy stuff.
'Best be quick,' she said, 'the boys think I'm looking for more lager.'
She opened the bottle expertly, poured the wine a little less expertly, then laughed as I took the top of the champagne flute into my mouth so as not to spill any as it frothed up.
'Looks as if you've done *that* a few times before,' she said, 'and not just with Cava.'
'You could say that,' I grinned. Then I paused a second. I was expecting her to grin along, we'd trade a couple of rude remarks, then maybe go for another glass. Instead she looked very serious. Not problem serious, just serious.
'Are you OK?' I asked her. She nodded. Then, slightly bashfully, she spoke.
'Would you mind if I fucked you?'
It isn't the sort of thing you expect to hear under most circumstances, and even bearing in mind what we had been doing during the day it did sound a little abrupt. It made me gulp a little, and I stood looking up at her and wondering what had brought it on. Maybe four hours in the hot Spanish sun, playing with each other’s' boobs - I do overlook the obvious sometimes. ..Mel is about a head taller than me, and I half expected a kind of uneven contest, but I think she was a little unsure how to proceed. I decided I needed to ease the tension a little.
'I thought you'd never ask.'
She smiled and moved closer to me. Now neither of us is what you'd call a small girl, so there's only so much closer we could get before the inevitable collision of breast on breast. We stood there a little awkwardly for a second or two, then I decided to take the bull by the horns.
'Oh Mel, look at us! You want to fuck me, I'd love to fuck you, and we can't get close to each other for tit. We're going to end up in bed anyway, so let's cut the formalities and get horizontal together.'
I don't suppose she gets to hear that too often either, but she could see the sense of what I was saying. I led her to the bed - a sensible double size - then acting on instinct, pushed he down onto it. She's nearly six foot in heels, but I think there's a little submissive streak in there that likes to get out from time to time. I straddled her, took hold of her hands and planted them firmly on my breasts, then did the same to her.
'OK, why don't we start like this? I am going to tongue kiss you to begin with, only this time as a lover, not a model. I'm going to do that till I need to breathe, then I'm going to tell you what I want you to do to me. You don't have to speak, just squeeze my boobs. Once for "no", twice for "yes". OK with that?'
I felt her fingers close to squeeze my tits... once...twice.
I leaned over her and wormed my tongue deep into her mouth. Wantonly she opened, letting me in. I put my tongue as deep as it would go into her head, then almost reluctantly lifted my mouth from her. I leaned in to her ear. I whispered.
'I'm going to stand up and take my panties off now. Then I'm going to climb back on top of you. OK?'
Two squeezes. Suddenly her eyelids looked very heavy.
'Except I'm going to sit above your tits. So, my naked body will be about six inches from your mouth. You'll be able to see every little intimate crevice of my pussy lips. If you choose to move your head, I'll be yours to taste. Do you understand me?'
'Now this I have to see!'
The voice was Claire's, unexpected, stealthily moving next to the bed while we were distracted. I felt a little braver than I would usually.
'If she does it, so do you.'
Claire pursed her lips, an expression that said quite matter-of-factly "fair enough." She reached out and took hold of me, fondling me twice, her fingers interlacing with her friends on my boobs. Then she took them away. There was a pause, a few seconds that seemed to last forever, then Mel's hands were closing on my flesh.
I didn't dare breathe. Claire sighed a little, and she started to say 'Well...', when Mel's fingers found their bravery and squeezed once more. The statuesque blonde beneath me had just given her consent to something new, while the curvy redhead by my side had said she would join in. I could hardly be the only one not to indulge, could I? But that would be later. Hardly daring to breathe, I stood and removed my panties, then settled down ready for Mel…

Enjoy this wonderful weather,


Love Lorna Blu xxx
Wednesday, June 6th 2018
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Lorna Blu in the Loo
Hello my horny friends,

Now, certain things are regarded as private or taboo … like visits to the toilet - Which, let’s face it, makes them even more intriguing! Ladies on the loo – generally done behind closed doors (except in long-standing relationships) is one of those ‘mysteries to men’.
My latest set of photos is a compilation of ‘me in the loo’. I’ve taken these photos over a period of time in various people’s toilets (You may even be able to spot your own toilet!). In most of the photos I’m wearing lady-like outfits including stockings, suspenders and heels, except for a couple of near-naked pics where I’m just clad in a pair of white panties.
Now if you’re concerned that these may be a bit too gruesome … never fear, wee-wees only!
I’m also posting a short watersports video which includes two scenarios …. In one of them I pee all over the bathroom floor through my lacy black panties. I’m wearing very high heels, which I stumble and nearly fall over in. I was going to edit this part out of the vid clip, but then I thought I’d give you all a laugh at my expense! Enjoy!

Stay Horny!

Love Lorna Blu xxx


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