Wednesday, 23 November 2016


     Two days with Lucy, two exquisite days that left me tired, emotional but very, very happy. We'd never met until this weekend, but Lucy was a beauty to behold, a beauty that rendered me breathless on more than one ocassion. She was a sight for sore eyes, a breath of fresh air, elegant and sophisticated, warm and welcoming. She offered a blissful tranquility that restored peace and joy within, bringing my soul quietly back to life.

     The days were long, the nights longer; sleep was broken with restless wonderment.

     With departure imminent, I cast her one last look as I boarded the train. A tear edged my cheek as I blew her a kiss goodbye but delivered the gesture with the solemn promise that I would, one day, return to her again.

Wednesday, 16 November 2016

Beneath the Sheets

Birth Announcement

Beneath the Sheets
safely delivered to 
Kate Warren
Monday 14th November 2016
weighing approx 142g

a labour of love

To suggest I am immensely proud right now, is an understatement.

I've been nurturing this baby for the past few months, adding content, reading, editing, formatting and re-visiting most days to ensure I was happy with the final first draft before hittng the upload, print and order button. Once I'd done that, I instantly felt a sense of loss. Not having anything to work on after such focus left me somewhat bereft, but just over a week later, the stork safely delivered a healthy and glossy looking baby. Perhaps a little on the light sight, but that's what this first draft was all about. To be able to pick it up, feel it, touch it, read it - use the senses I was born with to understand what I can possibly do to improve the quality and content. 

As it is, Beneath the Sheets contains 73 pages filled with poetry, prose and fiction along with a collection of images* and blog extracts, most of which hasn't seen the light of day, offering fresh words and photographs which will hopefully stir the senses and lead your imagination down a path of what ifs.

For sure, it does need more content and a hard back copy would be lovely, possibly with a dust cover for added sex appeal but I know this will increase the cost so I need to consider what readers are willing to pay for such a book. One aspect I am fixed on is that this should only be available in physical format and not as download.  I'm a very tactile person. This is how I prefer to read books and this is how I would want you to enjoy mine.

Until the next time,

K x 

* Copyright on all image belongs to Kate Warren.

Friday, 11 November 2016

Space Invader

Something has been bothering me for the past few days and I feel the need to get the matter off my chest and out in the open.

I visited a club recently, and whilst sitting in the lounge area, chatting with a group of friends, a new couple came over and introduced themselves to us. Nothing wrong there. We are always open to meeting new people. Conversation revealed they were fuck buddies, lovers, whatever - both married just not to each other. No-one batted an eyelid. He - we will call him Red - sat adjacent to me but on another couch. Despite other people being around, he focussed on me, asking about the popularity of the club and the ratio of guys to couples etc. He complimented my outfit and asked questions about my sexual preferences, stressing his female companion was bi-curious. 
'Are you bi-sexual?' he asked
'I don't play that way' I said

'Sorry, I've forgotten your name already'
'Kate' I remind him.
My husband sits forward and introduced himself again
'Oh I don't need to know your name, I'm only interested in Kate' he said and turned his attention back to me.
His words took me by surprise. Disregarding my husband like that had automatically ruled out any chance of him playing with me.

I continued to chat within the group, but focussed my attention on a guy called Tony, who had been speaking with my husband.
'So Kate, I've just been hearing about your work. Tell me more.'
Perfect. Here was a lovely, young guy that understood the rules of engagement; polite, respectful and attentive. He took time to get to know both me and my husband, and after a short conversation, admitted he would like to play. 'But there's no pressure' he quickly added. 'It's been a delight to meet you both.' However, once I confirmed my interest he thanked us and asked a few questions about what I enjoyed and how I wanted to play.  He was very unassuming throughout and ensured my pleasure, comfort and safety was his number one priority whilst we were together.

Some time later, we returned to the lounge for a break and Tony gave us the space we needed. I was back on the leather couch, propped in the corner to support my still ailing back and in conversation with friends who sat opposite. 

All of a sudden, I'm approached from behind by Red, who leaned down and kissed me, open mouthed. His advance caught me off guard, I was shocked, stunned and temporarily immobilised. All I could think to do was close my eyes and keep my lips sealed, but somehow, (maybe I tried to draw breath I don't know), his probing tongue found mine. All I could taste was red wine. As he broke away he left me with the words 'I want to fuck you'. I cringed even more than before. How fucking arrogant and assuming could one person be? He had no right to invade my space like that. No man has the right to invade anyone's space without being asked or invited.

Other than wiping my mouth, what happened thereafter is a haze. I can't remember where my huband was or what anyone else said to me in the few minutres that followed.

Not wanting to make a scene, I sat quiet, gathered my thoughts and for the next hour or so, together with my husband, enjoyed the facilities the club had to offer. Unfortunately our paths crossed with Red and his partner again. Once again, he made a move towards me. This time my reactions were quicker.
'Can I have some space please' I boldly said, loud enough for other players to hear, and just in case he hadn't heard my words above the music, I held the flat of my hand out directly in front of him to ensure he got the message and stepped no closer.

He walked away, tail between his legs. His girlfriend, for whatever reason, decided to kiss my husband. What the ... ? For goodness sake, why do people have to play such games? Clearly, the pair were on some kind of mission and sadly, fuelled by alcohol for Dutch courage, had thought it acceptable to behave the way they did.

One of the dislikes I have about the scene is that people often mistake the willingness to engage in conversation as we want you to jump into bed with us or please fuck my wife.  It isn't. It never has been and never will be. Nothing should be assumed.

Respect peoples boundaries, respect their space. No means no. At all times.

Until next time,

K x 

Thursday, 16 June 2016

Judging a Book by its Cover

We all do it, don't we? I mean, we're human beings after all, so its a natural trait, right?

I recently received a message on my swingers profile, from a single guy, asking if I'd like to chat/meet for a drink. I'd already rejected him once, but instead of telling him this, I simply, and politely, declined his interest once again. The message I received back was along the lines of 'such a shame, you can't judge a book by its cover'.  And he is right, of course. You know that and I know that. However, what he failed to give me credit for was doing my homework before replying and of course, respecting my opinion, to some degree. I hadn't judged him by his cover alone. I had read his blurb and furthermore I'd read the reviews, (which were all good), but just because the likes of Nuts and FHM like what they see it doesn't mean The Guardian and The Times will have the same opinion, surely? So therefore its necessary to draw our own conclusions based on what we see.

Now I know I'm here looking for physical encounters of a sensual and hopefully exhilarating and liberating nature, and so to a large extent, the enjoyment, or thrill should be more about the content than the cover, but I have to get hooked in the first place. I mentioned in a post last year, how I felt seduced by browsing the displays in Waterstones; being a tactile woman, and turned on by visuals, I felt incredibly overwhelmed by the array of  books on offer, but after much browsing, I picked up just three for further deliberation and subsequently chose only one. The cover, the blurb, the image, and the opening chapter, all backed up by reviews I considered a trusted source, made the purchase an easy choice.

I'm just as selective when it comes to sexual partners, but I'm not looking to buy, only borrow,  so therefore the swinging scene is my library, somewhere I can go to escape real life and delve into a fantasy world for a short time. There will always be a drama somewhere in the mix, but in the main my personal anthology of short stories will contain action, adventure, humour, romance and hopefully a little bit of kink too, when the mood strikes and they all provide a quick fix in their own unique way.

But in the meantime I have a handful of favourites - the novels, classics if you will, that are to be taken chapter by chapter, savoured and enjoyed, because quite frankly they are exceptionally well written and deserve my undivided attention.

I also have to turn this on its head and consider the fact that I too, am someone's choice of reading material and from that perspective I think very carefully about how, and by whom, I want to be handled. Those that go through a very similar selection process, are easily detected. Having observed from a distance, they make their approach and from their opening lines, its obvious they have done their homework. You can see it in their eyes, their body language is a giveaway, and they never jump in right away either. They continue their research by engaging in conversation, and study each chapter in turn, showing both patience and a genuine interest to learn more. They are intelligent enough to understand that so much more pleasure is to be gained once the main character has been understood. So, once the ground work is complete, and I'm totally happy, only then will the invitation be given to open the cover and run their fingers down the spine of this sophisticated and intriguing mystery.

Happy reading,

K x

Tuesday, 31 May 2016

Being Spontaneous

You know how it is, you chat to someone on line for well over a year, trying to fix a date to eventually meet up and then finally you receive a message to say 'I'm in the area'.

Your heart skips a beat and you respond without hesitation.

'Ooh whereabouts?'

He's less than five miles down the road. I have half an hour free.

'How long have you got?' I ask

'What did you have in mind?' he replies

'I could join you for coffee, if you give me ten minutes to get ready.'

I hit the send button enthusiastically but gutted I can't offer anything else.

'Where can we meet?'

I quickly decide on a coffee house in my home town, and send details along with my phone number.

I race to the bathroom, freshen up, change my underwear (even though this is just a social), throw on some clean clothes and grab my coat.

I pull into the coffee house car park to be greeted with a warm smile from a dark haired guy sitting in a black Mercedes.

The first thing I notice are his good looks, then I notice his attire; polished shoes, black trousers, white shirt, dark tie and a navy three quarter length overcoat. I'm sold.

We order coffee and head for the quietest corner of the cafe. I sit on a two seater sofa and for a moment I thought he was going to perch next to me, but he hesitated, and finally sat on a single seat to my left.

We chat easily. The coffees are brought to our table. I remove my coat, lean forward and reach for my cappuccino, making some quip about getting my top lip embarrassingly covered in cream. He laughs and mutters something about an innuendo. I like the fact he has a sense of humour.

'It is lovely to meet you at long last. We've been chatting for months.'
'I know. If my circumstances were different today, I'd be inviting you back to my place.' I tell him
'Oh really?' He was genuinely taken aback by the comment.

The conversation flows and right throughout, his behaviour is reserved, respectful. As for me, well, you know I'm an insatiable flirt. My body language remains open, I give him all the signs that I'm interested and I am disappointed that I genuinely don't have enough time to take this further.

Time passes quickly. With the coffees finished, he settles the bill and we leave on the agreement that we get together when diaries allow.

Let's hope I don't have to wait too long.

K x

Wednesday, 20 April 2016

Coffee at his place ...

A full bodied, rich roast
with a hint of
nuts and chocolate

Friday, 15 January 2016


January 2012

I was in the perfect place when I awoke this morning, both physically and mentally. I was still cocooned in the warmth of the quilt after a good night's sleep and for some reason I awoke with thoughts of you running through my mind.

I imagined your hands running all over me, lifting my black short nightdress, exposing my buttocks to your erection that you so often started the day with. I wanted the feel the warmth of your breath on my skin again, Sam; it has been far too long. I smiled as I remembered your trembling hands the first time you touched me. Nothing can compare to unfastening your trousers to find no more material restraining your hardness; you had arrived commando just as we had discussed. That first time was amazing Sam; so much had gone on before. The texts, emails, cybersex......oh my, the cybersex. It was hot before you left for your tour of duty but by God when you were away we couldn't get enough of each other. Virtual hands, touching each crevice of one another's bodies in the heat of the moment. Human contact you so desperately desired when you were so far from home. You told me everything you wanted to do with me when you returned home, a day that couldn’t come soon enough for me. Our instant messaging alone left me breathless, I couldn't wait to get my hands on you. The first time we locked together was truly special Sam but the second you remember? That was a mad twenty fours hours.

You arrived at our chosen destination way before I did. I remember thinking how keen you must have been to meet up again. I checked in at the hotel and rang you immediately. You could have taken no more than six steps down the corridor before you knocked on my hotel room door. I recall how you took me in with your eyes before you eventually made your move and kissed me. We were at it again. Three hours of hot steamy passionate sex. In the chair, on the bed, different positions. Then there was the following morning. As agreed and with military precision you txt me at 8am. Still want to play? Yes, of course I did. I had been up more than half an hour, showered, dried my hair and changed my night attire to something a little more fresh and appealing. To have you slip into my warm bed that Saturday morning was just delightful.

Another hour of sex in the bed before we took a shower together. Only one of us could stand under the streaming water which I remember you said was too hot so you let me stand under the constant stream, letting yourself chill from the dampness drying on your skin. I soaped you down and held you close trying to keep you from being too cold.
You so desperately wanted to have me in the shower but it wasn't to be and not for the want of trying or lack of excitement. It just wasn't physically possible. Having played so much the day before we were content with sensual foreplay and ended our session with one of the best kisses ever.

We met twice after that, here at my house. Equally good memories; I sent you narratives and photographs of our time together so you would have something to hold on to. I wonder if you ever look back on them like I do? Do you still have the presents I gave you, pick them up occasionally and reflect on our time together, or have you hidden them away somewhere? You blew me away Sam and I know you felt the same about me. You confessed on more that one occasion you felt you were batting above your average, but I wanted you too. You breathed a life into me I didn't know existed. Being with you helped my confidence and I changed; for the better. Oh Sam, if you could see me now......... No longer am I shy and unsure of myself but I have the confidence to put myself out there now, willing to show everyone what I am made of, willing to chase after what I want.

I often think I would like to see you again, but I know it's not to be. There was someone in the background wasn't there, pulling you away? You had indicated there was another interest in your life but you left without saying good-bye. That hurts me Sam. To think that after all we had been through, all the support and encouragement on both our parts you didn’t have the courage to call me like you promised. Instead you just faded away. I can't blame you, as much as it pains me to say it, but you did the right thing. As much as I will want to txt you on your birthday, any contact from me now, after all this time, would knock you sideways. I care too much about you to do that.

I doubt our paths will ever cross again but if they ever do I want you to know I would greet you with warmth, affection and a smile.

Wherever you are Sam,

Keep Safe xx

Tuesday, 5 January 2016


The entire Christmas break had been extremely low key, more often than not to the point where I'd become comfortable slouching around the house in sweat pants and vest tops. I couldn't settle into doing anything productive or creative. I was restless, yet reluctant to do anything about it.

"We should go out for the day, it'll do you good." he insisted. "You need the fresh air. You need to get laid."  I looked at him questionably, but I knew he was right. It had been weeks since another man had laid hands on me, and although I couldn't feel it, I had an itch that needed to be scratched.

So I showered, shaved, plucked and dressed. Nothing fancy, after all, I had to escape the house without raising any suspicions from the kids.

London was our destination. More specifically Rio's in Kentish Town.

We boarded the empty train carriage, sat opposite one another, and immediately logged on to our phones. I suspected he was corresponding with potential suitors, I meanwhile was getting to grips with a book I'd recently downloaded.

There was a small amount of frivolity before the train departed when a couple boarded asking if the train was the 12.10 stopping at Croydon and which direction would the train be travelling. They settled eventually only for an older grey haired Indian guy to board asking the same first question. We laughed some more, having explained what had just happened and the guy thanked us for our help and wished us happy new year.
The train departed bang on time. My husband declared 'Nottingham here we come!' His remark makes the couple seated behind me laugh.
We both look up from our phones and enjoy the sight of the bright day that has dawned.
"We should just head for Brighton instead."
The words are spoken in jest but for two pins, I could.

The remainder of the train journey to London was uneventful we disembark at West Hampstead and wait for our connection to Kentish Town. I didn't mind too much, the sun was out and I was happy to read a little more of my book.

We make it to Rios albeit later than anticipated. Quickly down to our towels we head for hot tub, already occupied by two guys sitting apart from one another. One guy is probably about 30ish, with a round face covered in stubble. The other guy is slimmer, well trimmed beard and moustache and a long pony tail. My husband recognises him from his profile on FabSwingers; he's one of our dates.

Introductions done, we chat with ease, first about the scene and different clubs before we find other common interests. I couldn't make up my mind about him. Did I or didn't I want to play? He was polite enough but I simply wasn't keen on the facial hair ...

After chatting for nearly an hour, I saw past his slightly grungy looking exterior and had been drawn in by his unassuming nature, gentle voice and soft Antipodean accent. I was ready to play.

We found ourselves a private room. They are basic. A wooden box, covered with six wipeable padded mats. I placed my towel in the middle and lay on top, face up.

I have my husband on one side, new lover (Adam) on the other. Adam trails his palm and fingers over my body, occasionally drawing his fingernails over my skin for extra reaction. He leans down, his mouth finding my nipple. There's not much of a sensation as I can't feel his tongue, but then all of a sudden, a little nip as his teeth gently clamp either side of the now erect flesh. A slight gasp escapes me. His fingers soon discover the aroused state between my thighs. Again, it's all very gentle, unassuming. First one finger, then two are inserted. At the other end of things I'm sucking on my husbands cock. Keeping hard is no effort for him, especially when I am being entertained by another man.

I'm stimulated enough by this point to know I will climax but unsure how or when it will surface. I can't describe the feeling in words, but my body reaches a point when it needs more, and often quite quickly, and this would be when I would let my own hand go lower and either share or take over the responsibility for making it happen. However, I feel totally relaxed, at ease and in no rush. I distinctly recall telling myself to exercise more self control, enjoy the feeling. So I let things be.
Moments later, I'm crying out in pleasure. Orgasm reached. Both men sit back and I take a few deep breaths, gathering my thoughts and sense of being. Once restored I asked Adam if I could give him oral. He kneeled up for me and I went down on all fours, giving access for my husband to continue my stimulation. Whilst Adam gives me verbal approval and strokes my back, I come again, this time soaking the towel beneath me.

Adam's cock was smooth, about six inches in length with a more than average circumference. My tongue and mouth investigate leisurely and at will.
"I'd quite like to be fucked now if you wouldn't mind" I ask politely.
Adam reaches for a condom and I move on to all fours. I accommodate him easily. He holds on to my hips and allows me to control the rhythm. I rock back and forth gently, enjoying the sensation of a new guy inside me (something that's been lacking for far too long).
"You have such a gorgeous ass" he says caressing my buttocks. I politely thank him for his compliment whilst being conscious that my sex is dehydrating.
"I need lube" I pant, starting to wain.
He retracts and sits back
"I'm going missionary if you don't mind." It's a statement not a question
Adam complies and watches me rub the smooth white thick liquid over myself.
He slides back inside with ease and leans over me to thrust. His ponytail falls over his shoulder, the tip of which lightly tickles my skin and dispenses the occasional drop of water.

He tucks my legs under his arms, he lifts them high. He let's them lay flat. No words are spoken and we don't kiss.
The enclosed unventilated room is rapidly draining of oxygen, my head starts to spin.
Not only do I need air, but water too.
I call a truce.

We retreat to the lounge area and chat for a further half an hour or so over cold, light refreshments. I'm drained, ready for home.
We make our excuses, dress and leave. Thankfully the train ride home is quiet. I settle into another chapter of the book, but soon feel my eyes closing ....