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Twitter 10
Love's Language's Lost

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My Top 10 Toys - Women
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Fleshlight UK
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Tuesday, November 27, 2007


My Second Life avatar, 'AbbyLee Aeon'

Just a quick reminder that tomorrow evening (Wednesday) I am doing a live event in Second Life (the alternate reality online world). I will be giving an informal talk about sex writing/blogging and its effect (or not) on how female sexuality is perceived and represented by the mainstream media; I will read a couple of extracts from my book; and I will answer questions in a Q&A. There will also be e-books for people to read as well as an exclusive preview screening of some television footage (more details about which will be forthcoming in the next couple of weeks...).

Hopefully the talk will be fun and laid back for all, and it might also be amusing watching me/my avatar attempt to type really, really fast. So if you're an SL-er please do pop along; if you're new to Second Life (I was, until a week ago), just sign up to it (for free) and get yourself an avatar so that you can be at the talk 'in person'.

The event is at 'The Rose Garden', Elysian Isle, Second Life (click here and you'll be 'teleported' directly to the venue).

It starts at 8:00pm GMT (12:00pm SL time/PST) and should last for an hour or so.

'See' you there.

Monday, November 26, 2007


‘How did you sleep?’ asked my lovely hosts Mike and K in unison.

‘Well I had some extremely vivid dreams, but I did sleep well: it’s so good to get out of the noise and grime of London and be somewhere quiet and clean for a change.’

I munched on my toast for a moment and then had a sudden flash of déjà vu.

‘Oh my god, I’m remembering my dream. Sylar was in it.’

‘Sylar ‘eh?’ K grinned, no doubt recalling the previous night's conversation where I had detailed my boy-boy crush about Sylar and Peter Petrelli and how hot I had found the fight scene between them both.

I pondered for a moment as vivid memories flooded my head.


‘What?’ Mike looked up from his coffee.

‘That really was some dream…’

‘Why? What happened?’

‘Sylar was about to kill everyone – as he is wont to do – and he was summoning all his powers to do that. I had to quickly find a way to distract him: people’s lives were at risk.’

‘What did you do?’

I blushed. ‘Um, I convinced him he wanted to fuck me.’

Mike laughed. ‘Did it work?!’

‘Well... I straddled him and felt his cock get hard under my crotch, so yeah, I think he was warming up to the idea.’

‘And then?’

‘He was in the midst of using his telekinesis, so objects were flying around the room and I knew it was just a matter of time before he killed me – and everyone else too. But somehow I managed to persuade him it wasn’t in his interest to kill anyone.’


‘Er... By dry-humping him until he had an orgasm. He seemed plenty distracted by that.’

‘Ha! I bet he was. And you?’

‘Oh, I climaxed too - of course. And whilst I was grinding against him everyone else managed to escape, so all in all it all turned out well.’

‘That’s some skill you had in your dream, managing to stop Sylar by dry-humping him and you to orgasm; like some kind of special power.’

‘What, like one of the Heroes?’

‘Yeah: your secret weapon against the evil forces.’

‘“The Girl: saving the world, one fuck at a time.” Ha! Some gift that would be…’

Thursday, November 15, 2007


Wednesday, November 14, 2007


I will be doing a reading, talk and Q&A about the book, sex writing and feminism on Second Life ('Elysian Isle' - co-ordinates 122, 208, 25) in two weeks time: 28th November 8:00pm GMT, 12:00pm SL time. This is a quick invitation to any readers who would be interested in joining me for a chat on the night; I'll post more details about the talk nearer the date, so sign up to Second Life now (it's free).

I am very excited about this event because the book started its life online, so to be doing a writer's workshop about it within this virtual world strikes me as a natural progression (for the blog, not me: I am a total newbie in the whole avatars walking and talking thing). I'm still getting to grips with how Second Life works, (and desperately need some new clothes) so if you see me wandering around aimlessly (my username is AbbyLee Aeon), do say hello and feel free to offer suggestions/advice, cheers.

See you (or your pixels) in two weeks.


Just received an email from my mum:
'You might be interested to know I can buy you with my points!!!'
I clicked on the link she had pasted into the email (I love the fact that my parents are frequent and confident net users: they even have matching laptops, bless them) and was amused to learn that my book is available for delivery to Nectar customers. It's a bit odd that they call it a "treat" ('how to get your treat!') when, you know, it is just a "book", but hey, it's nice to see that all those Sainsbury's customers can get their hands on it too (especially since the supermarket itself doesn't stock it on its shelves due to its explicitness, the cowards).

Obviously I am hoping my mum won't be one of those making a purchase though.
A while back, when I went to collect a box of books I'd left at her house, my mum told me she'd picked one of them up and read its introduction (where I mention fingering a man up the arse, my desire for group sex, and my favourite past-time of masturbation, amongst other things) and I almost vomited on the spot. Open-minded though she might be, there are just some things you don't need your mother to know about you, or vice versa... Ugh.

But she made me laugh a few months ago
when she said to me:
'You're not the first generation to fuck, you know.'
I love my mum.

Friday, November 09, 2007


17 months ago I wrote:

Just because a woman enjoys sex, it seems that she must be seen as pathological in some way; that she must be abnormal, or bad, or – as in my case – an addict. Why can’t women just like sex? Why can’t we be seen to enjoy it, without being called ‘sluts’ or ‘whores’ or ‘addicts’? Why must something be wrong with us, just because we openly express our needs, desires and wants?

I was an anonymous sex writer at the time I wrote that; now I am not. So yesterday, when another journalist called me a "sex addict" in a newspaper, the impact of the label resonated more personally with me, although my thoughts about it are still the same
as they were last year:

I am bored of this stereotyping; it’s tiresome to see the same old shit dragged out, whenever we challenge the view that women are ‘naturally’ passive, or when we counter the sexist labels assigned to us through the mainstream representation of female sexuality.

My parents read the piece in the paper yesterday and were furious, as was I.

Why are they calling you an addict just because you have written about your sex life? my mum demanded. They wouldn't have dared call you that if you were a man.

But it's easy - and somewhat expected - to chastise a woman, isn't it? Put the slut in her place if she talks about fucking. So whilst the overall article may have been sympathetic, the subtext of it was that something is wrong with me because I enjoy sex; or because I objectify men; or because I make noise about how the media/society/porn still has a predominantly male gaze. I
'd talk about this latter point more, but right now my head is filled with cold (I am still ill) and my friend Bitchy Jones sums it up with more passion than I can muster:

Tell you what, girls, we’ll file all the naked men under gay porn. You can go there and the straight guys will know not to look at that. That okay? I mean, it’s not offensive or anything to mark all porn featuring men as homoerotic. Like women don’t fucking exist as viewers. Fuck. As if women’s only role is to be *in* the porn. You utter cunts. God, sometimes, I really do hate everything in this misogynistic wankfest...

Women want to fuck and wank and come, and have the freedom to express their sexuality in whatever way they choose, just as men do. This is nothing new. But when the sexist double-standard rears its ugly head yet again, under the guise of a derogatory label issued by mainstream media, this basic premise bears repeating, I think.

[I was also very unimpressed by the newspaper failing to credit the photographer, my friend Meg Pickard, for her work - it was bang out of order not to attribute the picture to her.]

Monday, November 05, 2007


I am still ill, dammit. Mariella has nothing on my huskiness, I tell you.

So in the absence of words, here is a picture to look at:

It's the cover for the recently published Polish edition of my book. Cool, ain't it?

Thursday, November 01, 2007



[Thanks to the Inspector for reminding me about this brilliant clip from 'Man Stroke Woman' and cheering me up in my sickbed]

Sympathy and cuddles needed by this Girl, somewhere in London. Sexual services not required (right now - due to feeling rotten), but delivering some hot soup whilst nude would be gratefully appreciated.


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