{Alessandra & Xavier} Stolen moments in the dark

Now that I’m back to being Bree, I decided it was only right to share some of what I’ve been writing recently.  As is so often the case with me, this story involves pregnancy… of the very unexpected type.

Times three.

I will share more of the background of the actual story in another post, but for now, I officially introduce you to Alessandra and Xavier.



Holding her breath, Alessandra lay perfectly still. It was 3.23am and she’d awoken but the lack of cries coming through the baby monitor suggested she’d woken of her own accord. Another minute passed without the slightest sound from Sloane’s room and Alessandra deemed it safe to try and get back to sleep.

She rolled in toward Xavier and rested her hand on his belly, giggling quietly to herself when he let out a mumbled sigh of pleasure. Absentmindedly she began stroking her fingers back and forth along the trail of hair beneath his belly button, and found that rather than become sleepy, she only seemed to wake more.

No thought went into it as she moved her hand lower, another unconscious sigh of pleasure escaping from Xavier as her fingertips brushed against the base of his penis.

Continue reading

Sunrise Surprise


Have I mentioned I’m a fan of alliteration?

I’m also a big fan of Hannah and Josh, [temporarily] reunited after a horrible year apart.  They say distance either pushes you apart or makes your bond even stronger; in the case of Hannah and Josh the latter is true.

I would do more of a blurby thing but I’m hungry so shall just leave you with this little piece of the Hannah and Josh story…



When Hannah awoke again she didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was still early. There was a little bit of light coming through the curtains, but nowhere near enough to make her consider waking up properly.

“Hey sleepy head,” Josh whispered and lightly kissed her neck.
“It’s early,” Hannah mumbled.
“I know, the sun is only just starting to rise,” Josh replied and went back to kissing her neck.
“We’ve got all weekend Josh,” Hannah said sleepily, even if a certain part of her body was fast waking up; she wasn’t surprised that behind her she could feel a certain part of his body was wide awake.

Josh moved from behind her and rolled her onto her back then began kissing her. The kisses were slow and deep, and without even realising it she spread her legs for him, moaning quietly when he moved on top of her and settled between her legs. At the feeling of his cock against her hole, Hannah tilted her hips up slightly, silently informing him she wanted him inside her. Following her lead, Josh pressed inside and when she was filled to the hilt he stilled and smiled down at her.

“I love you,” Hannah whispered.
“I love you,” Josh replied. Continue reading

Sex – so much more than penis-in-vagina


‘When a mummy and daddy love each other very much, they cuddle closely and daddy puts his penis in mummy’s vagina…’

From those very first ‘birds and bees’ talks we are told that sex is essentially a man putting his penis in a woman’s vagina… and that is it.  We don’t question whether there is more to it or not and we certainly aren’t told that while, yes, sexual intercourse is the act of a man putting his penis in a woman’s vagina, there is actually far, far more to it; a beautifully broad spectrum if you will.

It wasn’t until my late 20’s that I realised the definition of sex isn’t quite as black and white (or penis in vagina) as I thought it was.  It’s not that I was brought up being told ‘sex is a penis in a vagina and nothing else’, it was just something I didn’t question.  Somewhere along the line society, as a whole, developed an inherent belief about what constitutes sex.  It’s something we giggle about as kids, it’s something we’re curious about as teens, something we may or may not enjoy as adults… yeap, good old penis-in-vagina, ‘he puts his what in my where?’ heterosexual penetrative sexual intercourse.

To that idea, I now say a big fat bitch please!

If there is one thing being a woman married to a woman has taught me, it is that there is soooooooooo much more to sex than a hard penis in a (hopefully! essentially!!!) wet vagina.

Firstly – and most obviously – if the two components of sex are a penis and a vagina there is no way my wife and I could have sex – and boy-oh-boy, we have some bloody spectacular sex!  It would also mean there is no way two men could have sex, meaning the only people in the world who could actually have sex would be those of the heterosexual persuasion – oh, and of course those greeeedy bisexuals*… or at least half the time.
(*I know it’s hard to convey a sarcastic tone in one’s writing so if you think I am being serious when I refer to bisexuals as greedy, I am most certainly not… I am simply being sarcastic as hell!)

I had the wool pulled over my eyes as well as, right up until I met the fantabulous woman who was to become my wife, sex was the act of a Untitled-7man putting his penis in my vagina; ‘everything else’ was classed as foreplay, was classed as a build up to the so-called ‘main event’, was merely something to do other than having sex… perhaps because he was tired, or I was tired, or one of us wasn’t in the mood, or you know, perhaps I was a bit sore from having weekend long daughter-with-her-dad sexathon.  I never once really stopped to think about what was below the surface when it came to sex, there was P-in-V and there was ‘everything else’; I enjoyed all of the above, but if there was no P-in-V action – regardless of whatever else happened – I would think of it as having not had sex.

Then I met my wife and it was like a whole new world opened up to me.

The first time we made each other orgasm that is precisely how I thought of it, ‘we made each other orgasm‘ – we didn’t ‘have sex‘.  Thinking about it that way, I was struck by the thought that perhaps I’d never have sex again, I’d simply have a life full of (amazingly overhwelming) foreplay-esque activities.  During our first week together I struggled with how to refer to what we physically did to bring one another to orgasm.  “She fingered me and I came”, “I went down on her and she came”, “I rubbed against her thigh and I came”, “I played with her nipples until she came”.  It was like a beautifully delicious mindblowing cause and effect cycle.

But that wasn’t how I thought about sex as I had known it until that point (ie when I had had sex with someone with a penis).  What was the difference?  If anything, what we did to each other made me feel better than anything I’d ever done with a man.

It was confusing and began feeling like the whole ‘which came first, the chicken or the egg?’ predicament.  What we did to each other felt better than sex, yet… it wasn’t sex, because there wasn’t a penis involved.  Right?

Then it dawned on me one day.  Sex is whatever the hell you want it to be!!!

It might be the typically thought of penis/vagina thrusting/grinding combination ending in an orgasm, but it could also be:
– fingering, either vaginal or anal
– anal penetration, either with a penis, sex toy, finger/s or even (not for beginners!) a fist
– stimulation of genitals using the mouth – the tongue, the lips, the teeth (again, not for beginners!)
– hand job (on man generally, but you can stimulate the clit in a similar way using your fingers!)
– biting, in any way and on any body part that causes an influx of horny feelings (this may be my weakness…)
– nipple stimulation, male or female, rubbing, tweaking, pulling, twisting, flicking, licking, tugging with teeth
– spanking
– use of restraints, ropes, hand cuffs, strong tape, scarves which are conveniently placed at the head and foot of your bed (not that I know  this from personal experience…)

templeIt doesn’t stop at the obvious physical stuff though – or not for me anyway.  Because there is no penis in our sex equation, I don’t tend to think of anything we do as foreplay per’se (can’t resist a good rhyme), rather, I see everything we do – that leads to us losing control in even the slightest way – as sex.  I enjoy a passionate, hunger-fuelled kissing session almost as much as I enjoy my wife working her special brand of magic with her fingers; I love rubbing her bottom gently until she’s whimpering and writhing around begging for more, as much as I love spanking her and making her scream so loud the neighbours would probably consider calling the police.

Sex has gone from being something physical for me, to being something that is physical and emotional, as well as being – in a weird way – somewhat spiritual.  Sex is now more about expressing my love in a variety of physical ways, of enjoying the contact with my wife.  I guess it’s about the connection; the special connection between us and only us, as lovers and wives, as two individuals who are totally crazy about each other.

I guess what this whole spiel is about, is the fact that sex is what you make it.  It should be defined by the individual, couple, trio, quartet (and on) in question.  As a sexual abuse survivor I think it is also extremely important to add that however sex is defined between two or more people, it should be a mutual decision, a decision made with both/all sides of the equation in mind and not serving the interests of one person over the other.

Olivia & Annalise: Request For Leave

I haven’t published a story on Smashwords in a long time so thought it was about time I got onto it.

This morning I published my latest short story ‘Request For Love’; though it is a standalone at the moment, I am developing ideas to make it a series, much like my Georgia & Zoe one.

I will post a link to the (free!) download on Smashwords, but will also post the story here.

‘Request For Leave’ on Smashwords

Request For Leave



Flight NZ232 from Wellington has landed at gate 23.

Seconds after the announcement came over the loud speaker Olivia heard her text message tone ring out; she grinned as she took the cellphone from her handbag, knowing full well who the text would be from.

I’m back! How long until we can be naked and I can finally touch you?

The content of the message was as predictable as the identity of the sender had been, and Olivia couldn’t wait to get Annalise home and do just that – though she had doubts they would be able to wait until they had made it that far.

I’m sure we can find a spare toilet cubicle somewhere,’ Olivia sent her reply and could imagine Annalise biting her lip in that sexy way she did as she read the suggestive text message.

Five days they had been apart and while it wasn’t technically a long period of time, for the two of them it felt like a lifetime. In the ten years they had been together they had only spent the occasional night apart, when one or the other was on a business trip, and those nights were few and far between. Olivia had been devastated when her leave request had been denied, but could hardly complain. Her boss had been very accomodating of her monthly request to work away from the office for a few days, so both she and Annalise could fly to Auckland and visit their sperm donor during Annalise’s fertile window.

Don’t even joke about that,’ came Annalise’s swift reply.

Olivia’s heart started racing when the first passengers from flight NZ232 began to come in through gate 23. Her eyes were glued to the arrivals, impatiently awaiting the first glimpse of the curvaceous woman she couldn’t wait to get naked with and welcome home by lapping greedily at her pussy.

Every night while Annalise was away they’d had phone sex, but the orgasms which resulted from those calls were never as satisfying as the ones when the two women were in bed together. Or the

shower. Or the dining room table. Or the car. Anywhere, really.

Tears prickled in Olivia’s eyes when Annalise finally came into her line of sight. The woman looked simply delicious; a black pencil skirt showed off her hips and shapely thighs, while the red wraparound top accentuated the breasts Olivia couldn’t wait to get her hands – or mouth – on.

Rather than being annoyed by the looks Annalise was getting from men in the terminal, Olivia felt proud; that sexy, beautiful, goddess of a woman was all hers. Hers!

Annalise and Olivia ran toward each other, their arms wide open, everyone else in the surrounding terminal fading away by the time they lunged into each other’s arms. Olivia whimpered happily and forgot anyone else existed as she and Annalise finally kissed.

In the short time apart Olivia had forgotten how plump and soft Annalise’s lips were, how it made her tingle when their tongues brushed together, how a surge of want and need spread through her body the moment they touched. The way Annalise moaned softly against her mouth made Olivia’s breath hitch and her clit throb… how on earth was she supposed to wait until they were home to start catching up on lost (naked) time?

“Get me home now,” Annalise ordered, sounding just as frustrated and aroused as Olivia felt.

“Your wish, my command,” Olivia replied, fighting the urge to kiss her wife again, knowing that if she did she wouldn’t be able to control herself.

“I missed you so much,” Annalise told her, squeezing her hand tightly as they quickly walked toward the baggage claim area.

“I missed you more,” Olivia countered and they giggled as they power-walked to get Annalise’s suitcase.

“You mind watching out for my bag while I race to the toilet? Annalise asked, Olivia nodded and winked at her wife.

“Here, take this with you. Open it when you’re in there,” Olivia instructed, handing Annalise a small gift-wrapped box which she eyed curiously before turning and walking in the direction of the bathroom.

Olivia could hardly contain her excitement as she watched Annalise heading toward the bathroom… things were about to get fun!



It took a lot of restraint but Annalise held off opening the gift from Olivia until she was had finished on the toilet and washed her hands; she tore the wrapping paper off but the plain black box hidden beneath gave nothing away. She took the lid off the box and gasped. Inside was a wearable wireless bullet they had been thinking about buying for a while. The remote wasn’t in the box and Annalise suspected Olivia had it. The accompanying note confirmed her suspicions.

Thought this might make the trip home a little more enjoyable…

Love you xxx

Just the thought of what Olivia could do with that remote made Annalise crave her touch even more. Prior to leaving the hotel that morning she had masturbated to try get the level of sexual frustration she was feeling down to one that she could handle until she got home. Fat lot of good that had done; there was no way she could possibly last until they got home, not when Olivia had the power to tease her without even touching her.

Annalise snuck back into the cubicle and fought hard to stifle a moan as she pressed her naughty little gift into her sopping wet vagina. The bullet wasn’t doing anything yet, but already the walls of her pussy were clenching around it, as if begging it to start vibrating. She didn’t bother putting her panties back on and felt decidedly wicked walking from the bathroom with her lacy black panties in her handbag.

Looking toward the luggage carousel she couldn’t see Olivia anywhere so turned toward the exit and found her wife waiting patiently with her green suitcase… and a devious grin on her face.

As she approached, Annalise suddenly stopped in her tracks when she felt vibrations start inside her pussy. Olivia gave her an innocent look and the vibrations stopped. She resumed walking and the vibrations started again, this time a touch stronger than they had been to start with. The walls of her vagina tightened around the bullet as dull waves of pleasure began to course through her.

“Stop that,” Annalise whispered and shot Olivia a pained look as the vibrations increased again, before stopping altogether.

“Ever so sorry.” Oliva didn’t sound very apologetic!

“Just wait ’til I get you into that car of ours, I will make you pay,” Annalise promised, deciding she could be the one to do a little teasing of her own.

“Oh, babe, did I not tell you? I decided to get a taxi here, you know how I hate the traffic at this time of day, in this part of town,” Olivia said with a straight face.

Annalise glared at her wife, who, it had to be said, looked smug and victorious. Not only would she be unable to tease Olivia, she wouldn’t be able to make the slightest sound of pleasure on the journey home, not without arousing the suspicion of the taxi driver.

“Well played, wife,” Annalise conceded as they stopped at the nearest available taxi.

“You’re welcome,” Olivia said overly-politely, flashing her a sexy smile seconds before saying hello to the taxi driver.

Annalise got in the back of the taxi and wasn’t at all surprised when Olivia got in the front seat; she wouldn’t even be able to make eye contact with Olivia while the sneaky woman was teasing her! The taxi-driver, an older man by the name of Ned, guided the taxi from the carpark and onto the main road, while talking to Olivia about his newest grandaughter. Annalise usually disliked chatty taxi drivers but that day she didn’t mind, perhaps Livvie would forget about teasing her altogether?

No such luck.

The vibrations started out dull – it felt good – but wasn’t enough to require her to bite back any sort of verbal response. Just when she had been lured into a false sense of security, thinking she could easily cope with the stimulation until she got home, the vibration level switched up a couple of notches. It was enough to make her toes curl and alter her breathing slightly, but didn’t put her at risk of making any embarrassing pleasure-filled noises.

It wasn’t so much the case with the next increase in vibration level, causing her breath to hitch and her pussy to tighten around Olivia’s very thoughtful, sexy gift. The intensity of the vibrations made Annalise’s hips start moving; she tried to keep them still, attempted to fight the pleasure welling between her legs, but it was impossible.

The small circles of her hips grew tighter as Annalise became more aroused, the vibrations deep inside her pussy being aided by the mental images developing in her head; images of Olivia’s fingers buried inside her, images of being tied up and at the mercy of Olivia, images of Olivia teasing her with one of their numerous sex toys.

Annalise’s clit was throbbing and she knew the throb wouldn’t stop unless either she or Olivia started rubbing it. When the vibrations intensified again Annalise considered whether or not she could risk touching herself, she had a jacket in her carry-on, perhaps she could put that over her lap and have a sneaky little self-love session.

No. That wasn’t an option. For starters, it wasn’t a self-induced orgasm she so badly needed, it was an Olivia-induced orgasm, and then there was the fact it was impossible for her to be quiet when she came, something that would either result in the taxi driver ringing the cops, or doing something pervy like asking to watch.

Gripping onto the inside door handle Annalise tried to stop responding to the pulsing vibrations, but her thighs were tightening and her pelvis was starting to arch upward. Her breathing was coming shallow and fast, and Annalise knew if it continued too long she would pass out, but it was either breathe like that, or moan like she needed to – and as with masturbating – moaning wasn’t an option.

It wasn’t until Annalise tasted blood in her mouth she realised she had been biting her lip. Correction, not biting; her teeth were clamped down tightly on it, so tightly she’d drawn blood. When she let go of her lip a moan came very close to escaping and Annalise wondered how on earth she was going to survive the rest of the journey.

Pussy juice coated the top of her thighs and Annalise was suddenly very self-conscious about just how aroused she was. What if the taxi driver could smell it? Olivia always commented on the exquisite smell of her wetness, she loved that it turned Olivia on, but the thought of the taxi driver being able to smell it didn’t appeal in the slightest.

Annalise’s breathing sped up again and she was very aware of how tightly her pussy was gripping the bullet. The throb in her clit was becoming uncomfortable and she felt panicked – she knew she was about to cum – more to the point, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do so quietly.

And then the bullet was still. Olivia had timed it perfectly, taking her as close to the peak as she could possibly be without cumming, stopping a split second before her body let go and a mighty orgasm was triggered.

“We will be home soon, baby,” Olivia said innocently from the front seat.

“Glad to hear it,” Annalise replied through gritted teeth.

“I know how badly you want to get home,” Olivia replied soothingly.

“Always nice to get home after a holiday.” Ned added to the conversation.

“It certainly is, Ned!” Olivia agreed and it was only then she turned around and gave Annalise a particularly devillish smile which she returned with a flustered scowl.

When the taxi finally turned onto their street the vibrations started again. She’d always said Olivia could play her like a musical instrument, but Annalise had no idea she had the power to get her so incredibly close to orgasm without even touching her, without even looking at her.

The vibrations were dull and stayed that way, much to Annalise’s relief. When they finally made it home and the driver stopped in the driveway she stepped out of the taxi and turned to look at Olivia, who gave her a smug wink before walking to the back of the car to get the suitcase from the trunk. The vibration level increased as the trunk slammed shut, increasing again when Ned got in the car and began reversing out of the driveway, and again as they walked toward the front door.

While Olivia fumbled with the lock the vibration intensified yet again and by the time she finally opened the door and Annalise stepped inside, she had started moaning.

“You are evil,” Annalise said through repeated moans.

“I wanted you in the mood when we got home, that’s all,” Olivia giggled and pressed Annalise up against the now closed door.

“I was in the mood before I even got on the plane!” Annalise exclaimed, groaning when rather than replying, Olivia began kissing her.

The kiss was full of the overwhelming hunger that had built up over the five days they had been apart. Olivia’s arms snaked around her and she felt her wraparound shirt come loose, seconds later Olivia had it pulled open and was ravenously tugging on Annalise’s nipples through the fine lace of her red bra.

“Oh God,” her moan coincided with Olivia pulling the cup of Annalise’s bra down and taking one of the pointy nipples in her mouth. Olivia suckled hard before switching to the other nipple and all Annalise could do to anchor herself was dig her nails into Olivia’s shoulder, squeezing tightly as Olivia sucked harder.

The sucking sensation encompassing her nipple directly communicated with her clit and as it started throbbing painfully Annalise found herself pushing Olivia down. She needed to feel her wife’s tongue sliding between her swollen labia, she needed to feel the tip of her tongue probing at her hole, the flat of her tongue making long laps up and down her slit, before finally settling on her clit.

Olivia, no longer in teasing mode, it seemed, got to her knees and in one swift movement pulled Annalise’s skirt down, before pulling her down to the ground even as she stepped out of it. Annalise didn’t care they were in the middle of the entry way to their house, that the tiles were hard and cold, that a comfortable king-size bed was up the stairs to their left.

“You have no idea how much I have missed this.” Olivia’s voice shuddered as she moved between Annalise’s legs and settled with her mouth mere millimeters away from her wife’s throbbing, wet pussy.

The vibrations intensified once more and Annalise cried out as she felt her wife’s warm fingers run up and down her slit, crying out even louder when she used those warm fingers to spread her lips apart.

“I love you, Leesy.” As Olivia uttered the words Annalise could feel her warm breath against her pussy, sending shock waves throughout her body, making her groan in a mixture of pleasure and impatience.

“I love you t-” Annalise’s proclamation was cut short by the sensation of the flat of Olivia’s tongue running slowly from her hole to her clit and back again.

Speaking became impossible. While Olivia’s tongue worked her pussy Annalise let out a jumble of constant moans, groans, cries, and gasps of pleasure. It felt divine to have her wife’s tongue on her pussy again, but in amongst all the pleasure Annalise felt a little sad, sad because she knew it was going to be over very, very soon.

Reading Annalise’s body language like the pro that she was, Oliva quickly moved the sole attention of her tongue to Annalise’s clitoris, moving it back and forth varying the pressure but keeping the speed fast and constant.

Annalise’s hand soon found its way to the back of Olivia’s head and she applied a little pressure, creating more friction between tongue and clit. Her hips were bucking against Olivia’s face and the fingers of her spare hand had busied themselves with one of her nipples. Between the tongue-clit friction and the nipple squeezing, Annalise’s orgasm was building at a fast rate and she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it at bay much longer.

Olivia’s tongue started moving even faster and that final increase of tongue speed was all it took to finally send Annalise spiralling, tumbling over the edge, screaming loud and long as her orgasm slammed into her. Wave after wave, after wave, after wave, it came and didn’t seem to want to peter off. When it finally did Annalise found it hard to focus her eyes on anything, in fact, she found it hard to remember where she was, who she was, what she was doing, what had just happened to her.

Then everything went black.

A few seconds later colour came back into the world, but Annalise felt as if she had been hit by a Mack truck. She did notice, however, the vibration had stopped and her pussy felt rather empty… obviously Olivia had taken the bullet out while she was in her sex coma.

“You killed me,” Annalise whispered hoarsely as Olivia snuggled up to her and very gently kissed her on the neck.

“My pleasure,” Olivia replied, her voice also a whisper.

“Mine actually,” Annalise’s giggle came out more like a croak.

“I love you, you gorgeous, sex-dead woman,” Olivia smiled softly at her and their lips lightly brushed together.

Annalise whimpered against Olivia’s mouth when their tongues touched and she got a taste of herself on Olivia. She had always enjoyed their first kiss after Olivia had gone down on her, she found it incredibly sexy to taste herself… it was such an intimate experience and for whatever reason it made her feel even closer to Livvie.

“I could do this all day,” Annalise remarked, stroking Olivia’s wavy red hair.

“Me too baby, me too,” Olivia said and the two shared another gentle, loving kiss.

“We should get up to bed,” Annalise suggested and Olivia chuckled.

“I think we should, these tiles aren’t the most comfortable snuggling surface in the world,” Olivia sat up and helped Annalise to a sitting position.

“I have wanted to be naked with you since the second the plane took off the other day,” Annalise sighed, happy she would finally be able to do that. “I hated waking up without you next to me,” she added, smiling sadly.

“It was horrible not having a nice warm wifey body to press up against when I woke up in the middle of the night,” Olivia sighed, then shook her head and smiled. “But you’re back now and I am sure tonight I’ll sleep better than I have in a long time.”

The two women held hands as they made their way upstairs and into their bedroom. Annalise sighed with relief when she saw their bed. She was home. Finally. Back where she belonged, with her Olivia.

While Annalise got in the bed Olivia slipped out of her jeans and underwear; the second she joined Annalise in bed the two women moved straight into each other’s arms, sighing in unison as their warm bodies made contact. Everything was right in the world again.



Olivia smiled happily against Annalise’s shoulder as they held each other. Yes, it had been a relief to finally taste her wife, to finally hear the scream of pleasure she’d missed so much, but it was equally nice – if not nicer – to be lying in bed with her, simply enjoying one another’s presence.

She hadn’t let on to Annalise just how hard it had been to not be with her on the trip to Auckland, and it was so nice to finally have her back.

Everyone they knew was very supportive of them and their decision to try for a baby, but what people didn’t seem to understand was why they put themselves through the monthly drama of having to travel to another city for five days. Why couldn’t they just get a local donor? The question had been asked multiple times, and until they eventually got pregnant, it would continue to be asked.

The reason was simple really. Their extremely good friend – Jeff – lived in Auckland, and while he didn’t want to have any children of his own, he had given them a very heartfelt speech about what it would mean to him to help her and Annalise start a family. They hadn’t really needed to talk it over, both had agreed it felt right to have Jeff as the donor, particularly because he was more than open to the idea of being their donor for consecutive children, something that was especially important to them.

Now that Annalise was back, the impatient wait would begin, the glorious ‘two week wait’ as it was known. Over-analysing potential pregnancy symptoms was something they’d become quickly skilled at and though every cycle they decided they would ‘just relax’ that never happened. From nine days after Annalise had ovulated they would cave into the urge to do a pregnancy test, usually each day. Just in case. The repeated negative tests had started to unsettle both of them and prior to leaving a few days earlier, Annalise had broken down in tears and suggested there was something wrong with her and that was why she wasn’t pregnant yet.

It was such an up and down time, but Olivia knew it would be worth it when they were finally holding their baby in their arms. When. They had been making a conscious effort to say ‘when’ rather than ‘if’, hoping that positive thinking would magically make conception happen.

“What do you think of the name Harper? For a girl?” Annalise asked and Olivia smiled internally, not surprised they’d both been thinking about whether this time would be the lucky time.

“I like it, but I prefer Harlow,” Olivia replied, entwining her fingers with Annalise’s.

“You do realise that because we don’t really like any boys names, we will have a boy.” Annalise rolled her eyes and Olivia giggled.

“Or twin boys,” Olivia couldn’t resist teasing.

“It was so hard to resist buying things when I met up with Carol at the mall and went to the baby store with her,” Annalise spoke of another of their friends in Auckland, who was six weeks off giving birth.

“I bet she has a big belly now,” Olivia commented, and Annalise nodded.

“All I could think of when I looked at her was that one day that will be me,” Annalise admitted.

“I can’t wait until you’re big and fat and pregnant,” Olivia said dreamily. “You are going to look so damn sexy with a big baby bump.”

“Well I’m already looking forward to seeing you with a bump,” Annalise said shyly. They had agreed that because Annalise was two years older than Olivia, she would carry their first baby and Olivia would carry their second.

Annalise cupped Olivia’s face in her hands and smiled adoringly at her. Olivia couldn’t resist kissing the gorgeous woman she was lucky enough to be married to, and felt a little embarrassed when a whimper escaped her lips. There they were, having a deep and meaningful conversation, a discussion about their future, and suddenly all she wanted was to get hot and sweaty with her wife.

“I’ve missed that sound,” Annalise whispered and initiated another kiss, elliciting a second whimper from Olivia.

The whimper turned into a moan when Annalise started rubbing the tip of one of Olivia’s nipples. “I’ve also missed these.” Her finger lost contact with the nipple but was replaced by her tongue, making Olivia moan and shudder as Annalise licked her nipple with a featherlight touch.

Licking soon made way for sucking and as Annalise’s hand began travelling down her body, Olivia instinctively rolled onto her back, spreading her legs, inviting Annalise’s touch. Fingers grazed incredibly lightly over the triangle of hair between Olivia’s legs, and thought it was probably a matter of thirty seconds, it felt like a lifetime before they finally touched her wet flesh.

Olivia felt as if she was being scorched by Annalise’s fingers, in a way that made her want more, need more. Olivia had no control over the moans and groans she was making, but the more Annalise touched her, the louder she became and the more she moved her hips. By the time she finally felt a fingertip at her hole Olivia was writhing around, gasping and moaning, trying to catch her breath.

Ever so slowly Annalise slipped a finger inside Olivia’s wet heat, both women groaning at the welcome intrusion; it felt so good to finally have her wife’s magical fingers inside her. She had all but stopped putting her own fingers inside her on the odd occasion she masturbated, because nothing she did could feel as good as having Annalise’s skilled fingers buried deep inside.

“I missed the way you feel,” Annalise whispered as she shuffled closer and without missing a beat, slipped a second finger inside Olivia.

“I missed-” Olivia groaned, “this as well.”

“Remember that time I had my whole hand inside you?” Annalise’s words had the direct effect of making Olivia’s pussy contract tightly around her fingers.

“Bitch,” Olivia said breathlessly.

“At your service,” Annalise winked, adding a third finger to her pussy at the same time her thumb found Olivia’s swollen clitoris.

Olivia groaned gutturally as Annalise began rubbing her clitoris in a circular motion. The contact was light but sent sparks of arousal throughout her body and Olivia began clawing at the headboard behind her; it was either that or claw the hell out of Annalise’s back.

Annalise pushed her fingers deeper and Olivia made a noise that was part moan, part scream; Annalises’s fingers were now rubbing constantly back and forth over a very sensitive spot deep inside her pussy, and Olivia began panting as she was overwhelmed by the repeated stimulation. She didn’t want it to stop and cried out loudly when Annalise began rubbing harder, knowing exactly where and how to touch to turn Olivia into a wet, swollen mess.

It was a natural response to start moving her hips against Annalise’s hand, the added friction this caused on Olivia’s clit made her toes curl as she fought to keep her orgasm hitting. Not yet, she wasn’t ready.

She didn’t really have any say in that though, and when Annalise began moving her fingers harder and applying more pressure to her clit, Olivia could tell Annalise was ready to feel her fall apart around her fingers.

Olivia was determined to hold her orgasm back, to make the immense pleasure last, but Annalise knew her body too well, and resumed sucking on one of Olivia’s nipples. The combination of Annalise’s firm sucking action, the force of her fingers against that spot, and the pressure she was using on her clit caused Olivia’s orgasm to surge forward.

The pressure built inside her pussy until suddenly, boom! Olivia roared as her orgasm hit, all of her senses going into overdrive as she was overcome by Annalise’s blissful manipulation of her body.

She felt boneless afterward. Her orgasm peaked and waned, and left her lying on her back feeling as if she was a pool of jelly. Even the simplest of body movements, such as wiggling her fingers and toes were impossible, she couldn’t even muster up the strength to look into Annalise’s deep green eyes; it was as if her own eyes were glued shut.

“I love you,” Annalise whispered softly and Olivia smiled in response.

“Love you too,” she mumbled, hating that she was falling asleep so soon after getting Annalise home, but the influx of feel-good hormones triggered by her orgasm had her losing the battle to stay awake.

Olivia was aware of Annalise’s lips brushing against hers, and then of her wife resting her head against her shoulder and melting into her. A mixture of the much-needed orgasm and sleep being seconds away had apparently rendered her mute, so rather than telling Annalise how happy she was to have her home, she instead sighed contentedly and finally gave in to sleep.

Two weeks later

After what had been a hellish day of meetings and presentations, Olivia finally took the time to have a well-deserved and much-needed break. It was already 3.45pm and she had been working non-stop since 8am; she was starving, not to mention exhausted and all she wanted to do was get home and blob out on the couch with Annalise.

She took out her phone and sent a text message to Annalise ‘On my break, will be home around 7, sorry I have been so quiet, it’s been bloody crazy around here today. I miss you, hope your day has been good,’ then began demolishing her late lunch. Whilst eating she mentally altered the plan for when she got home, adding ‘eat a bunch of crappy snack food’ to the list.

Her cellphone message tone rang out and Olivia’s heart began racing when she saw it was from Annalise. The past couple of days she had been cramping a lot and they were waiting for her period to arrive and she knew in all likelihood the text message would include the words ‘stupid period arrived’, or something similar. It would be a huge downer, but at least it meant in a couple of weeks time they would be able to spend a few days together in Auckland, perhaps they’d book in to a fancy hotel and spend the whole time getting pampered.

Well, getting pampered and visiting Jeff – gifting him with a sterile syringe – five days in a row. It was no longer an awkward process, in fact it was a routine they had down to a fine art. She and Annalise would arrive and have a coffee with Jeff, who would then excuse himself and go upstairs, returning soon after with a syringe containing the other half of the make-a-baby equation. He would then go for a walk, leaving the women alone to complete the procedure… in other words leaving them alone so Olivia could inseminate Annalise and make her orgasm.

Before she went home she’d stop and get flowers for Leesy – gerberas, her favourites – it wouldn’t take away from the disappointment of the negative pregnancy test and her period arriving, but it would at least go some way toward making her smile.

Taking a deep breath she tapped on the screen to read the text message.

The next sound Olivia made was an excited screamy-squealy-gaspy sound; the message was actually a picture, and it was the most beautiful picture she’d ever seen.

It was a pregnancy test which, rather than having the usual single line of pink, had two bright, beautiful lines.

Two lines. Pregnant.

Annalise was pregnant! They were pregnant! They were going to be parents!

She immediately dialed Annalise’s number and when she picked up both women were crying and laughing.

“I guess you better go and cancel that leave request!” Annalise sobbed happily.

Sex and depression: I think I’m abnormal


I knew I needed to go on anti-depressants about 18 months before I finally took the leap (well, had the breakdown) and went to the doctor (well, was dragged to the doctor) to finally ask for help.  I hate to admit it but one of the reasons I was reluctant to go on anti-depressants was due to fear they would have a bad impact on my libido.  My wife and I have always enjoyed an active sex life and I didn’t want that to disappear; I didn’t want to go from wanting sex numerous times a week to having sex once a month because I felt guilty for not wanting it AT ALL.

As I saw it at the time (and still do now) I was extremely lucky that depression hadn’t been a libido-killer in itself.  A lot of the literature I read explained a common symptom of depression was a lack of libido and potentially complete disinterest in sex.  For me that was never the case, even at my worst I wanted craved sex with my wife – if anything my libido increased – to the point I almost felt obsessed with sex.

I am the sort of writer who needs to be in a sexual state of mind to write about sex and it was a relief that even if I couldn’t be bothered having a shower, getting dressed, going out into public, I still wanted to write, and I still wanted to have sex.

At that initial appointment when I was put on Fluoxetine, the doctor warned me about a decreased or non-existant libido – and I worried about that – more than worried actually, to the point I considered not starting the medication.  I felt that without my libido, without that familiar part of my being I would become more of a shell.  I might have been depressed, I might have been moody, I might have wondered a few (million) times why anyone would want me… but I was still horny old Bree, I was still spending hours a week writing erotica.  It was really the only part of me that I felt wasn’t broken, as if it was the tiny little thread of sanity that was holding me together.

Imagining life without my libido, without my passion for writing erotica… it was beyond terrifying.  Then I put myself in my wife’s shoes and realised not going on anti-depressants because I wanted to retain my libido – while losing everything else – was plain old selfish, stupid, and just didn’t make sense.

Surprisingly, my fear about losing my libido never had anything to do with worrying that if I didn’t want sex, my wife would leave me.  This, from a woman who, not so long ago, used sex as a way to keep a relationship together.  I knew that if I never wanted sex again my wife would still be right by my side, being the utterly amazing woman she always is… I suppose that was the one positive out of that dark time in my life.  I realised I was indeed truly loved.  Sure, most of the time I had no idea why she would want to love me, but knowing I was loved really was a bright spot for me.

I went on my meds.

I waited for my libido to disappear.  It didn’t.  If anything it increased.

And the stupid thing about this?  I felt like there was something wrong with me.  Yeap.  Most people feel something is wrong if their libido wanes, but I wondered if something was wrong with me because it increased so much.  My wife, as usual, told me I was being silly and I was perfectly normal, but it took me a long time to believe her.


Around four months ago my meds were upped and again I went through the ‘am I going to lose my libido’ panic, to the point that – yet again – I wondered if perhaps I shouldn’t start the increased dosage and stick to what was[n’t really] working.  My wife pretty much told me to get over myself (it was what I needed her to do, and I know it wasn’t coming from a negative place) and that if my libido did go wonky, we would deal with it.

The increase doesn’t seem to have effected my libido and I have finally accepted that I am one of the exceptions to the depression=low libido rule.

I have thought about it a lot however, and came to realise that for me, sex is part of how I cope with depression.  Some people use exercise as an anti-depressant, I use sexercise.  On a deeper level, I think it is my wife that is my anti-depressant.  Throughout this particular depression journey the one thing I have wanted needed is to be close to my wife.  I might push other people away and go even further into my introvert shell, but when it comes to my wife I need her right by my side as much as possible.  Just being in her presence has a calming effect on me.

With all this thinking about it, I realise that intimacy with my wifey is like a booster shot of sorts… we have sex and I instantly feel better on an emotional and mental level.  I suppose it’s because of the feel-good hormones released when orgasm occurs; I love being flooded with the post-orgasm sensations, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually… that feeling of bliss and awe and… well, you know what I mean.

Sometimes my wife knows when I need an orgasm, before I even do.  I get into what we refer to as the ‘spiral of doom’, my mood plummets at an astonishing rate and nothing gets through to me.  Except those feel-good post-orgasm hormones.  Usually I go and hide in bed, my wife quickly joins me and before long I am deep in the throes – after I orgasm I am like a new person – and this is why my wifey refers to it as ‘resetting my brain’.   This is a treatment method I’m yet to discuss with my psychologist.

Because there is the potential for so many black clouds in my emotional and mental landscape, I have finally stopped wondering why I can still enjoy sex, and am instead embracing it.

Even if it does exhaust my poor wife.


I am really curious to find out whether or not I am some sort of exception, so if you have experienced depression at any stage I would love if you could answer my poll, you can do an answer for non-medicated and medicated depression.

this has become a bit of a mantra for me... my wife makes me say it out loud when I'm in the depths of depression... slowly I am starting to believe it

this has become a bit of a mantra for me… my wife makes me say it out loud when I’m in the depths of depression… slowly I am starting to believe it

The story of us

This time of year always makes me feel a little giddy.  It’s not because of Christmas (let’s face it, Christmas is stressful) and it’s not because 22a6ae5f654a0e5c5de8b8c939be45e8of New Years (as a parent NYE is just another night and NYD is just another day); no, it is because it is this time of year I fell in love with my wife… and for some crazy reason, she fell in love with me.  It was unexpected, it was beautiful, it was amazing.  And our relationship (marriage!) still is.

August 2010 – my youngest was about two months old and I decided to seek out some online single parenting support.  I managed to track down a message board based in New Zealand and finally started to connect with other single mums.  One of those mums is the woman who became my bestfriend, soulmate, and wife.

February 2011 – the city I live(d) in was struck by a devastating earthquake which killed 185 people.  The suburb I lived in was a write-off and my children and I had to live with my parents for three months.  Immediately after the quake one of the women on my parenting forum sent me a text message.  I thought it was incredibly sweet of her.

June 2011 – we experienced two big aftershocks (yes, months after that second large quake), I had officially had enough so packed up the car and escaped down south.  I dropped a friend off in her hometown, stayed the night with her, then we drove to my Grandma’s house in Central Otago.   It was during this time that I began texting back and forward with the woman who – unbeknownst to either of us – would go on to be my wonderful wife.  Each day we text each other more and more and very quickly she became someone I considered one of my best friends… even though we’d never met in ‘real life’.

November 2011 – we had started texting non-stop everyday and spent hours IM’ing each other on Skype and Facebook.  When she told me her kids were going with their father for three weeks after Christmas I jokingly suggested she could come and stay with me and my kiddos.  It wasn’t long after she had flights booked.

December 28 2011 – ‘I will wait for you under the big flag,’ came the text from my future wife as I got to the airport to pick her up.  Looking up I laughed, there were about 20 big flags.  Eventually I found her.  We hugged.  It felt as if we had been friends for years, not mere months.

January 1 2012 – in the very early hours of the morning my then 18 month old decided it would be a great idea to wake up and refuse to go back to sleep.  I got very frustrated and upset (I’m not much of a middle-of-the-night person!), I believe she had been teething and I had reached the end of my tether, so to speak.  A friend had come over for NYE and stayed the night, she insisted I go back to bed and she would look after the little one for me… I refused but she insisted, so back to bed I went.  My future wife opened her arms to me and gave me the hug I so badly needed.  I think I cried.  I probably did, I cry a lot.

It was then that things changed.  As I lay with my head against her chest I began imagining things… namely me kissing her, me touching her and exploring the boobs I hadn’t been able to stop looking at since she arrived.  The only thing that stopped me was the time.  And not knowing how she would react.  We had spoken about sexuality a lot and while I had been in a relationship with a woman and loosely considered myself bisexual, I knew that she hadn’t and didn’t really have any inclination to.  There was no way I wanted to ruin our friendship because I had no self-control… we went to sleep eventually.

January 4 2012 – we were lying in bed cuddling… neither of us remember why or how we started cuddling each morning, but we did.  We were those sort of friends I guess.  I had been feeling a bit conflicted since New Years, I was starting to develop feelings for her and it was hard not to act on them, but like on New Years, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward by making unwanted advances toward her.

So we were in bed cuddling like normal… and then my hand started to move.  I tried to stop it, but I just couldn’t.  I knew if she wanted me to stop she would say so, so when my fingers brushed over her nipple that very first time I felt all sorts of excitement and shock.  I started to rub her nipple and when she began to quietly moan I realised she wasn’t going to ask me to stop.  Somehow I went from rubbing her nipple to sucking it through the fabric of her tank top… she was responding very positively and I got the shock of my life (a very good shock!) when she pulled her tank top down so her boobs were revealed.  When my tongue touched her nipple there was no way I could stop and my hand very quickly travelled south.  I couldn’t believe I was sucking on her nipple while rubbing her clit through her panties… I couldn’t believe just how strongly she was reacting to my touch.  She came and the next thing I knew I was rubbing against her leg and quickly orgasmed myself.  It was then that we kissed for the first time and I knew we were going to be together forever.  Sounds stupid, sounds cliché, but I knew she was my soulmate.

That first day was a little… not awkward, but we were both nervous, I guess… when we got into bed that night that nervousness soon disappeared and we spent a lot of time kissing and touching.  It’s all a bit of a blur now, but there were orgasms.  Plenty of them.

January 7 2012 – both of my children left to spend the weekend with their father’s.  Future wifey and I were lying on my bed together, tumblr_mhxrsvK9Tw1s356qho1_500naked, happy, blissed out.  My head was a jumble.  I was trying to get out those three little words that mean so much.  They would get to the tip of my tongue and wouldn’t go any further.  What if she didn’t feel the same way?  What if it was just a little fling for her?  What if she was just experimenting?  In my heart I knew none of those were the case and that she felt the same way about me as I felt about her, but the fear of rejection has always been strong with me.  I knew I had to say it, I had to get it out before I lost the chance… she was going home four days later, and I didn’t want that to be the end of us.  As it was, it was her who said those three little words first.  Not that I actually heard them!  Stupid fluid on the ears has left me with hearing difficulties… and I missed those damn words!  I told her I loved her, she told me she loved me – and then informed me she had been worried when she said them and I didn’t reply.  We got there eventually 😉

January 11 2012 – she left to go home… 650km away.  I won’t go into detail because even now the memory makes me cry.

April 2012 – she came to stay for a week in the school holidays

June 2012 – she came down for a weekend so we could go to a rugby game together

July 2012 – she came to stay for a week in the school holidays… we became officially engaged (though we had known since before she left in January that we would get married eventually!)

September 2012 – my kiddos and I went to stay with her and her kiddos for 18 days

December 19 2012 – she and her kiddos came down to spend Christmas with me and my family

January 2 2013 – her kiddos flew back up north for their three weeks with their dad

January 4 2013 – we celebrated our one year anniversary together with a fancy meal and a night in a motel

January 6 2013 – future wife went home… and me and my kiddos went with her!  Yeap, a year of long distance was more than enough for us and it was time to start our life together!

April 13 2013 – we had a civil union… four days later politicians voted to same-sex marriage legal in New Zealand; it became legal on August 19th that year

September 20 2013 – we had a little ceremony to upgrade from civil union to marriage.  We were officially as married as we could be!


I haven’t included the trials and tribulations of our 12 months apart because there is enough in that for a whole blog post (or four); but people often ask me how we got together so I thought I would post our story!  If anyone reading this is in a long distance relationship I hope it gives you some faith that long distance relationships can work out… because they can!  While I wouldn’t want to go through another 12 months of living apart, looking back, it was so worth it… and I think it made us appreciate each other a lot more.


Such faith in the next generation. Only not.

intolerant asshole

**** I apologise for the language used in this post.. but ‘nice’ language wasn’t going to suffice.

I rolled my eyes when I saw I had one message under the ‘other‘ category on my Facebook PMs.  Let me guess, some guy wanting to show me his dick, some fraudster with $1,000,000 that was left to me in the will of a long lost non-existant relative.  I clicked on the message and as I did, realised the name was that of the 16-year-old son of one of our friends.  We don’t see this friend a lot, mainly because we are busy and she is busy, but also because her husband is very controlling (putting it very politely) and extremely religious – as is our friend.

The family are very strict Catholics and something I’ve always appreciated about our friend is that she has always welcomed us into her home; she is of the belief that love is love and you can’t help who you love.  On the instances we were at her house she was very open with questions – I like that she was so curious – that she took the time to listen and try to understand us, when according to her religious belief system homosexuality is a sin.

Her husband on the other hand… men and women are put on the Earth to procreate, women’s purpose in life is to pop out babies and to serve the men in the family.  Not just her husband but also her sons.  The one time we were at her house when the husband arrived home unexpectedly he looked at like we had horns growing out of our heads, had long pointy tails, were bright red and had flames shooting up all around us.  His thoughts were very easy to read.  Sinners.  Get the fuck out of my fucking house. Now.

All because I love my wife and she loves me.  All because we treat each other as equals.  All because we each found our soulmate.  All because our marriage is a happy one.  All because we have a family together.

Who the fuck are we to… y’know, love each other, love our family and be happy?  Seriously?

Now that I have set the context I shall continue with my venty little post.

Facebook.  Message from this young man.
Ha gay‘.


I know he didn’t mean ‘ha gay’ as in ‘I have to go to bed early’ ‘ha! gay!’.  He was saying ‘ha, you are gay and that is disgusting, burn in hell mother fucker’.

Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree does it?

5a54781a1da39c018d5618e78186cd0cI feel like a right twat.  Earlier this week I was thinking about the world our kids are growing up in and the fact there is a lot more tolerance/acceptance of the LGBTQI community.  There is more than when I was growing up, more than when my parents were growing up, more than when my grandparents were growing up; I know there is still a very long way to go, but I thought that perhaps we’re finally starting to get it right, that this younger generation are going to grow up even more tolerant/accepting than young people these days.  For a moment there I felt proud of living in a country where same sex marriage is legal, where two women can walk down the street holding hands and not fear for their lives, where most people don’t bat an eyelid when they see two men or two women who are obviously romantically involved.

When I told my (then) 5-year-old daughter that I was in love with and going to marry a woman all she was worried about was whether or not she would get to wear a princess dress.  I guess we got lured into a false sense of security because neither of us had any negative reactions when telling someone about our relationship and then about our impending marriage; quite the opposite, everyone has been so supportive of us, so accepting of our relationship.  We have been very lucky.

That message today… it shook me up.  It made me realise that not everyone in this world is as open-minded, supportive or accepting as those we are lucky enough to be surrounded by.   What unsettled me the most about it is that this 16 year-old has learnt this sort of intolerance and let’s face it – assholyness – from a parental figure.  As kids we think our parents are godlike, what they say is the absolute truth, we model ourselves on the way they act, what they say, what they do, what they think… it’s not intentional, it just happens.  I guess it is evolutionary and way-back-when probably helped the young develop the skills necessary to survive.

Whatever the reason, this kid has now been programmed to act, think and be a certain way.  He is going to carry on the nasty circle of hatred and intolerance toward the LGBTQI community.  Him and his little friends who have been brought up the same way.  Those little shitheads will go on to procreate – because it is after all, our reason for existence – and then teach their children to be prejudiced, judgemental, close-minded, intolerant.  Those children will grow up and have children, and unless the cycle is broken those children will be like the generations of men and women before them.

Please note:  I am by no means saying that all religious people are like the young man I am talking about.  As I said earlier, his own mother is the opposite of what he is and I know plenty of other religious people who are supporters of LGBTQI rights and of same-sex marriage; in the same way there are a lot of non-religious people in the world who are anti-LGBTQI rights and against same-sex marriage.  Everyone is entitled to their beliefs, but everyone should be entitled to live their life the way they want, without fear of judgement or worse (and in some cases much worse).

I hope that something happens in this kids brain and he re-thinks the way he acts.  He can think homosexuality is a sin but he doesn’t have to act on those thoughts by saying or doing something to insult or hurt another person.

I hope so for his future wife.  I hope so for his future kids.  I hope so for his kids’ kids and their kids… and on and on.

Let’s face it though.  That probably won’t happen.  He will be like his father and not entirely to blame for the way he is… it is what he knows, after all.  It is his normal – it’s sad when you put it that way – sad and scary.

In the meantime I will enjoy being married to my soulmate, my equal, the woman who loves me for me, who lets me be who I am.

Oh – while I’m at it I will also take great pleasure (figuratively and very literally) out of the spectacular sex that is part and parcel of being in a loving marriage such as ours.  Sex that is 100% about pleasure – not procreation or duty.

In  perfect world this would be a no-brainer

In perfect world this would be a no-brainer