Here be dragons! This blog post goes into depth around some of the naughtier things in Sarah’s little world, so you have been warned! Continue at your peril….
I am in a funny mood. There, said it. I have a special session coming up next week, got myself an apartment for a day modelling housewifey frocks and looks, and another day where, for the first time since I started this little journey of discovery anew with the gloriously talented Cindy at BWBG, I’m going to give her complete carte-blanche on looks and outfits with one small caveat – make Sarah as sexually provocative as possible.
Pictured – Like that. You’re welcome 🙂
And the reason behind that is the topic of this blog – Lucretia.
But first, a caveat and a warning – if you’re homophobic, transphobic or mildly closed minded? Not sure this is the blog for you, sweetie. I’m going to lay bare some bones that are awfully close to the surface at the moment and that might offend your conservative, ‘welcome to the 1890’s’ style moral code.
And that’s not an insult. Whatever keeps you sane and grounded, good for you. Just keep it to yourself and believe me, this post will offend you, so bye!
Still here, dear reader? Good, as Scissor Sisters once gleefully put it, ‘close the door and shut the blinds, we’re going for a ride’.
There are times when Sarah doesn’t know when to stop. I call these the ‘Lucretia’ times, when her inner demon, which appears to be some kind of succubus (with emphasis on the suck), comes flailing to the surface and removes her somewhat needed inhibitions.
Pictured – ‘Inhibitions, moi?’
Yup, I’m referring to her as her again and not me, but bear with me, you’ll understand why. He/me is heterosexual as far as I now. Hell, it’s been so long since any form of sexual activity it’s hard to remember what feeling heterosexual is like, but, as I always say, he’s a bit asexual. Nothing makes me want to copulate with anything, female, male, inanimate object. It all feels so, well, pointless.
But I think that’s a pretence. I think Sarah is his way of not only embracing his/her female side, but also an outlet for the *massively* pent up sexual energies and urges that have plagued them for the last ten or so years.
Now Lucretia is something else. Here’s what I mean by a Lucretia moment – an admirer starts to talk with Sarah on her Facebook account (yes, she has a Facebook account, full of girlie friends and posts to fashion groups). The usual pleasantries occur, ‘how was your day’, ‘I really like that picture of you in the flowing floral gown with the petticoat underneath’. Then the inevitable escalation, the subtle hints and flirts that Sarah actually finds very exciting in a warm, odd way. The ‘I bet your boyfriend likes that outfit’ comment that is a subtle question. The casual and not innocent dropping of keywords into the conversation, maybe a reference to a picture of Sarah on her knees. Yeah, you can see where this is going.
Pictured – ‘Not leading him on at all’
Now, at this point, as I’m usually typing (and please don’t let this break your illusions, admirers) in a T’shirt and shorts, you would have thought ‘he’ would have got upset, the masculine side pushing to the surface and a wall of hot shame making ‘him’ turn off the computer and walk away. But that never happens.
Instead, Lucretia takes over. Lucretia is the naughty Sarah. She escalates the conversations which very quickly turn to what passes as the old sex phone lines of the 90. There’s nothing she is ashamed to say.
So why on earth does she/me do this?
Because it’s fun. And not in a ‘leading a horny admirer on’ way. It’s genuinely fun, exciting and yes, a turn on, to have that kind of conversation. Not all the time, but not rarely either.
Pictured – way too innocent to be flirting with men.
Combine that with some of the rather more fruity imagery that Sarah has (*cough* Fetlife *cough*) and, from the outside, you could start to think of her of somewhat of a, gasp, tease. But that is not what it is about.
I’ve never been good at the social side of things. Without the internet, without the shield of Facebook, the feminine part of me would be utterly alone. The fact that I can spend an hour or so having an online conversation with a man who genuinely wants to be sexually intimate with Sarah is both a rush and wonderfully satisfying.
See, one of the side-effects of being gender fluid from such a young age is a feeling of apartness, of being alone in a crowded room. You’ve got a secret you can never share with even the best of your friends. Because people like me don’t have many friends. Hell, I have one friend in the world that I trust to the point that he knows about Sarah and I’ve come very close to screwing that up by letting her urge for intimacy colour her behaviour around him.
Pictured – such as dressing in this identical outfit, going to a club with him and asking for a kiss
But with online people, it’s different. You have the protection of the screen – yeah, I know people go on about privacy and ‘whatever you put on the internet is for ever’ (it isn’t), but you do have a barrier. And that’s both good and bad – one of the major downsides of the internet has been the ability of people to say unfettered things, some very, very unpleasant, under the assumption they are insulated from the world. And that’s true – Sarah uses it to her advantage to have extremely graphic ‘relationships’ with online admirers.
Does that make her (and Lucretia) a slut? Yeah, why not.
The point is this – it takes two to tango. If two lonely people can have a little pleasure without hurting anyone else, where’s the harm?
But I deflect. Why is it so easy for Sarah to have an intimate conversation about orally satisfying (there’s the suck) a man? Where is ‘his’ masculine shame?
Pictured – Yeah, we’re way past the point of being able to claim any kind of masculine shame
There comes a point when you need to start asking yourself whether what she feels is what you feel. It’s a question I’ve asked myself a thousand times and I’ve never found a reasonable answer – when Sarah or Lucretia are at the wheel this person that I am is very attracted to the opposite sex……. of Sarah and Lucretia. On a day to day basis, in real life, ‘he’ has no urges for that at all. Hell, I find hanging around with men tedious and boring, much prefer the company of women….. oh wait, damn.
Anyway, enough of the soft-core erotica for now. I have a session coming up, my female hormones are spiking, and I really, really need to not be on the keyboard until 1:00am talking to men who are a: typing one handed and b: imagining what the concept of ‘balls deep’ would be like in relation to a lot of Sarah’s pictures.
Pictured – always use protection, girls
And on that rude note…..
Stay beautiful and remember the only person you have to answer to in this world is the person, be it male, female, or something deliciously in-between, who lives in that delightful brain of yours.
Pictured – a little innocence to cleanse the palate. Oh wait, that’s not right.
5 thoughts on “[Naughtiness] Dealing With Lucretia and One-Handed Conversations….”
Oh my goodness Sarah! This is a provocative one! 😮
I do understand what you’re saying though about certain people and the things they say.
And I know we’ve ‘chatted’ on occasion too. 😉 But I feel as though our conversations may have been a bit racy but I don’t think they’ve ever become totally pornographic!
And I understand what you’re saying about the loneliness and a lack of intimacy. I’m in a very similar position and it is easy when you’re talking to someone online that only sees and responds to ‘her’ to let your imagination – and quickly typing fingers to run away with themselves. 😉
Just know that if you ever want a chat – smutty or otherwise – you know where to find me.
Take care sweetie and enjoy your experience next week. 🙂 XXX
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Ive been the lucky participant in a couple of fun/sexy/erotic conversations with Sarah/Lucretia. It was fun and it was exciting for me to arouse your femininity–and you’re exactly right, there was nothing wrong with the two of us enjoying each others internet-based company for a little while…love to do it again!
Any by the way–I really enjoy your blog.
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That was not so much a penny dropping, more so the entire Royal Mint.
If there isn’t an award for blogs like this, then there should be! I could heap a great deal of critics praise. I continue to love everything you do but particularly how you’re able to continually bring me to my senses when you write.
Whilst i may continually cross examine my actions and arguable antics, you have the power to help me rationalise them and bring them to the fore.
You refer to the third person, the one beyond the alter ego, the alter ego’s alter ego!
Fiona can dress in her lingerie of choice, get before her web cam and chat quite calmly and friendly for some or all of the time on line.
But she too can totally take Fiona over and be stimulated into displaying the traits of a slut and one that doesn’t object to describing herself as such as the temperature and sexual euphoria rises.
She goes revelling in the lust of those watching, who are typing with one hand as you do beautifully observe, and goes willingly acceding to their fantasies and even outlining what they would actually like to do to her and have her do to them once she gives any such indication that she would be up for a meet. It’s funny how work always (genuinely and conveniently) gets in the way!
Until now, the third person analogy was lost on me and perhaps, now that i acknowledge her existence with your help, I ought to let her idemtify herself in name form. Whatever it is, it’ll be an equally slutty and provocative name!
As ever, loving and gratefully appreciating your work.
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Ummm. Sarah. It’s 1am, and I need to get to sleep, but I’ve just read this and we need to talk. I think you and I are kindred spirits- married, fluid, torn, horny, frustrated, talented….
Look me up on fetlife- Emmatv2014. Don’t email me- I can’t remember my log in!
Everything you say in this particular ‘Lucretia’ post rings oh so true for me. It would be really good to have a proper girl on girl chat if you’re up for that.
Hope to hear from you
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Hi Sarah. Your blog reminds me of a song by one of my fabvourite arists, Kirsty Macoll, called “Here comes that man again.” It’s about a girl who takes a call from a porn addict every night around midnight. I think you might enjoy it. Love your blog – keep ’em cumming! Sylvie, xxx