In response to a reader's comment last night about the fact that I don't mention condoms in my blog...
There's actually a reason for this and I wrote about it a few years ago for People Mag... This is taken straight from the archives of my old People Mag file. I haven't edited it or re-written it, it's pretty much exactly how it was in the magazine...
Hope this explains things!
Someone pointed out to me the other day that I don’t talk too much about condoms in my stories. That even though they are full of fucking and sucking and various positions and parties, the guys never seem to be sheathed.
Well, let me assure you all that I never work without a rubber. Ever. It’s just bloody common sense really.
I have, on some nights, fucked up to six or seven guys and, as much as I enjoy losing myself in tingling ripples of pure pleasure, there is no way I would ever get so lost I’d forget something as important as that.
I suppose the main reason I don’t mention them very often is that, even though they are a necessary part of my job, it just isn’t the sexiest thing to slot into an erotic tale. I just don’t think it’d work. Like this…
John sat beside me and watched hungrily as I lay back, naked and smooth, against the pillows.
My skin buzzed as he nibbled at my neck and teased my throat with his fingertips before moving to linger at my nipples, teasing them til they were standing up hard.
He continued down, running his hands and tongue all over me until, cupping my arse firmly in one hand, he pulled me up off the bed towards him and pushed a couple of fingers from his other hand deep inside me. He rocked me back and forth and I couldn’t help but make little noises and move my hips in rhythm with him.
Then, pushing deeper still, he raised me even higher off the bed and began to pull me slowly towards his mouth where he began to lap ever so gently against my soft folds and my eagerly swelling clit. The soft sliding of his tongue blended together with the hard fucking of his hand was an amazing combination and my body tensed and shuddered as the two extremes took over.
His cock throbbed next to me and I reached over, holding it in my fist, feeling each pulse run through my body like an electric shock ending at my pussy, which ached to be filled by him...
I rolled away for just a second and reached over to my bag, where I rummaged around for a little bit, finally pulling out the little square packet, tearing it open and pulling out the lubricated condom. I held it over the head of his cock and, squeezing the tip gently, rolled it down over his shaft, trying hard not to catch the pubic hairs in the tight sleeve…
See what I mean? Something in the telling just takes away from the story and, as much as nearly everything I have ever written about in this column is true, I don’t think there’s that much harm in omitting certain details. Of course, I can’t omit them when I’m at work so I just try and incorporate it into the fun. In fact, I can put a condom on better with my mouth than I’ve ever been able to with my hands… But that’s another story.
Added Comment about oral sex on me (which I used in my response to reader's comment):
Oral sex is a tricky one, there are dams but I find them to be quite useless to be honest. I use my own discretion when it comes to allowing natural oral on me. Over the years one becomes quite good at subtly looking for anything that could be detrimental to my health.