50 Shades of Grey in Dubai

So, EL James’ 50 Shades of Grey might be the bestselling book of all time, and I’m sure many of you will have had a peek into the world of BDSM by reading it but, let’s face it, it’s fiction. A woman in her late forties has put her fantasy on paper, but many people are questioning if her account is an accurate portrayal of this sexual preference. I’m by no means an expert, but I can tell you my story of my latest foray into the BDSM world.

Sexually, I’ve always been adventurous. Trying new things in the bedroom brings a great sense of excitement, anticipation and satisfaction to me. Role play, voyeurism, exhibitionism etc. all make regular appearances in my sex life. Handcuffs and blindfolds had popped up on occasion, but it’s always been more Ann Summers than Christian Grey’s Red Room. That was until an opportunity arose for me to take it a step further…

I was back in contact with an ex-lover of mine, Mr. X.X. (I’ll leave you to guess which of the men I’ve blogged about it might be), and recent text messages I’d received from him suggested he was interested in engaging in a little BDSM. But, unlike Anastasia Steele, I wasn’t to be the submissive one in this relationship. Instead, I assumed the role of Christian Grey, albeit a poorer, female version.

Initially, when Mr. X.X told me he needed disciplining, I was a little hesitant. After all, the times when we had been seeing each other were tumultuous and I wasn’t keen on giving without receiving. I weighed it up in my mind and decided I could take advantage of the opportunity, and so I agreed to discipline him, as long as I called the shots as to where and when it would happen.

Our first session was a last minute arrangement – my plans for the evening had been cancelled, so I decided I’d fill the gap with a little kinky fun. I sent Mr. X.X a text message telling him I would be coming over that evening and, if he had plans, to change them. He immediately agreed and, already, the control excited me.

I was unprepared for the session with Mr. X.X, so I nipped to the mall to pick up a couple of bits and pieces before heading over to his place. About an hour before I was due to turn up at his door, Mr. X.X sent me a message saying he wouldn’t be able to make it due to work commitments. His lack of respect for my time irritated me, so I granted him an extra hour and told him if he didn’t comply, the deal was off. He agreed.

I’ll admit, as I made my way over to Mr. X.X’s apartment, I felt nervous. I’d slept with him several times before, but this was different. This was entering into world I had little experience of, and I felt like I was about to lose my virginity all over again. I hadn’t really planned what I’d do to discipline Mr. X.X and, with no accessories, I was worried my performance would be poor.

Just after 10pm I knocked on Mr. X.X’s door. As he opened it, I pushed past him and strode in. One look at him and I knew I had it in me to punish him. Suddenly, I found my irritation at his lack of respect for my time, rise to the surface. I grabbed his chin, pushed him against the wall, and told him not to fuck with me. He cowered and apologised, which only infuriated me even more. I needed to smoke.

Having run out of cigarettes, I demanded Mr. X.X give me his pack. As he did so, I told him he had the time it took me to smoke a cigarette to get naked and on the bed. As I inhaled the smoke, I wondered how long the irritation I was showing had been bubbling beneath the surface. Was it just Mr. X.X or had I been suppressing something deeper? Ordinarily, I’m fairly calm and rarely lose my temper. Before I could overthink it, I’d finished my cigarette and headed back in to teach Mr. X.X a lesson for disrespecting me.

Like a good student, Mr. X.X had undressed and was laid out on the bed. I ripped the duvet off him, pulled out some silk scarves from my handbag and proceeded to tie him up. I started with his hands, tying them together above his head, and then moved onto his feet. As I made sure the bow was tight, I told him he wasn’t allowed to speak, that the only words he could say were the safe words. He nodded in agreement.

Before blindfolding him, I stripped down to my basque, stockings and heels. I was most definitely in the mood for teasing. I looked him up and down, deciding what my next move would be. I told him he was pathetic for trying to waste my time earlier, and forced him to apologise. Like a good student, he did so. I definitely got a kick out of being dominant over him.

I blindfolded Mr. X.X before straddling him. I now had complete power over him and oh, how I loved it. At that moment, I could have done anything to him and he would have had to take whatever it was I gave him... Then my onslaught began. I dug my nails into his chest and dragged them all the way to his hips, watching Mr. X.X wince as I did so. It felt so satisfying. I had no idea I was a sadist, but I took complete pleasure in seeing the marks my nails left behind in their wake. 

Each time Mr. X.X squirmed, I slapped him and cursed him for being so pathetic. He’d apologise, and so I’d slap him for disobeying me – talking when I hadn’t given him permission to do so. I continued scratching him all over his body, occasionally breaking it up with light licks or kisses. But, before he could begin to enjoy my more gentle touches, I’d dig my nails in again.

After I was satisfied that I’d covered every inch of Mr. X.X’s chest in scratch marks, I then ordered him to lay on his stomach. Watching him struggle to turn over whilst tied up amused me greatly. He was so weak and pathetic, and knowing that was my doing pleased me no end. I continued my assault on his back, occasionally smacking his buttocks, leaving a red-raw handprint on his skin. I then took to biting – neck, shoulders, bottom – any piece of flesh I could sink my teeth into was fair game.

I ordered Mr. X.X to flip over onto his back again, and told him I was going for a cigarette. I left him bound and blindfolded on the bed and headed out onto the balcony. When I returned, he was in the same position I’d left him in. I straddled him once more and gently kissed his lips before biting them.

I removed his blindfold and kissed him again before thrusting my breasts in his face. I could feel his hard-on between my legs and I knew he wanted to be inside me. But, I decided to drag the teasing out... I continued to push my breasts in his face. He opened his mouth, attempting to taste them but, instead, he was met with a slap. I instructed him to keep his tongue to himself. He obeyed.

By this point, I was incredibly turned on and I desperately wanted to slip him inside me, but I knew there was still more pleasure to be had before doing so. I kissed, I licked, I bit and I scratched, never allowing Mr. X.X to detect a pattern. I crept down to his hips and acted as though I was about to give him a blow-job. With my lips millimetres away from his cock, my breath caressing his skin, I grabbed his balls and swooped down to bite his thighs. He let out a hiss of pain, which only triggered me to slap him once more.

I resumed my straddling position and, again, pushed my breasts in his face. After a few minutes of doing so, I could feel his hips bucking. I knew he’d be able to feel how wet I was, and I didn’t want him to know he had the ability to do that to me. I ordered him to stop bucking. He obeyed.

Eventually, for the first time that evening, I took hold of his hard-on and placed it between my legs. As I kissed his lips and bit is neck, I felt him trying to inch into me. I told him, in no uncertain terms, that trying to enter me would not be tolerated. He obeyed. 

I would decide if, and when, I wanted to fuck him - he would not have a say. This was my game; he would play by my rules. Each time I felt him try to push into me, I’d lift my hips up. It was one step forward, two steps back for Mr. X.X and I was revelling in it.

For his good behaviour, I pulled my breasts out of my basque and let his tongue explore my nipples. Then, without warning, I pushed my hips down until Mr. X.X was all the way inside me. Never had it felt so good. Whilst I may have been teasing Mr. X.X, I had also worked myself into a frenzy.

We bucked like animals until I came. It was, by far, the best sex session I’d ever had with Mr. X.X. But, after two hours of being tied up, he couldn’t take any more and said the safe words. The second I untied him, we went back to being our usual, argumentative selves. How two people, who dislike each other so much, can have great sex like that, I have no idea. 

I dressed and we shared a cigarette on the balcony before I left. As I walked home, I replayed the session in my mind. I wasn’t sure how I’d performed as a Dominatrix and I was back to feeling like I’d just lost my virginity – satisfied and elated but insecure. Personally, I really enjoyed myself and I was ready to take it to the next level but, not knowing his limits, I was unsure of how far I could go, so I planned to take it just a little bit further each session.

I won’t give away what happened next in this post, I’ll save the next Mr. X.X story for another day, but I think Mr. X.X and I can already give Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey a run for their money.

Mates Rates

It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way about Dubai. Over the last year or so, I’ve found myself pining to be back in London, surrounded by familiarity, rain and old friends. Dubai had become stale and I wondered if my time was up.

I’d be sick of the sand and dust everywhere, tired of running around in the fifty degree heat and bored of unnecessaarily drawn out procedures. Even the most menial tasks became a chore.

My days seemed to blur into one, all predictable and fairly mundane. Sure, there’d be the odd occasion to write home about but nothing that really instilled that long-lasting happy feeling in your soul. Do you know what I mean? The feeling that makes you happy to be here? Proud. Where you take in your surroundings whilst singing to your favourite song that’s just come on the radio, or laugh out loud reminiscing about the night before and can’t believe how lucky you are? The place, the people, the situations…

Well, that’s how I’ve been feeling again lately. Despite the occasional disappointment in the love life department, I am so happy to be here. I’ve caught myself randomly smiling wondering why life is treating me so well… I’ve also laughed out loud when I’m on my own, thinking of my eccentric friends – all of whom are so different but all have something in common.

Since I’ve been single, my circle of friends has shifted slightly. I’m doing new things and I’ve made new (and more importantly, good) friends. Some old friends have dropped of the radar. Not for any particular reason, it’s just the way life goes. But sometimes there are some friends you know you’ll never let go of.

My three Bournemouth girls, and oldest friends, S, N and R. Despite being 3500 miles away from them for the last four years, nothing’s changed. Everytime I see them, it’s just like being cast back to our college days. We’ve been through it all together – the make-ups, the break-ups, the holding of each others’ hair whilst being sick, driving tests, university, moving away and our first steps on the career ladder.

It’s been an emotional journey, and we’ve had our ups and downs, but they’re solid friends with whom I know I’ll share even more treasured memories like promotions, weddings and babies. It’s the kind of friendship you dream of as a kid, before you get distracted by boys, and nothing can take away its magic. The purity and innocence of my friendships with S, N and R are what makes them so special and it’s probably why they haven’t faded and never will…

Then there are the friends from Uni. I stood side by side with SE and LB throught our three years at Middlesex – scraping the pennies together for another drink at the pub, spending nights playing computer games instead of completing coursework and sharing the joy on graduation day. I laugh at the memories of us striving to be more grown up than we were but showing our real age through our mistakes.

It wasn’t just lectures where I learnt and discovered new things with SE and LB, the whole three years at university were eye openers. I can learn a lot just from looking back and seeing why, out of all the friends I had at university, I chose to remain close to SE and LB throughout the years after uni. Perhaps we’re still all learning together, despite the distance. Perhaps the distance is an education in itself…

Finally there are my Dubai friends. In a city that throws unexpected changes at you, it can be difficult to maintain good friendships. I was once told I wouldn’t make good friends here due to the transient nature of Dubai. But in reality, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

There are some people who tend to flit between different social groups, but my core friends are a constant. Never have I been so in love with a group of people, but I honestly think my friends are the best. They’ve brought back my love for Dubai!

As a group, we’re always up to something, whether it’s having a BBQ, celebrating an engagement, throwing a dinner party, going away for the weekend, electrocuting ourselves, wakeboarding, singing karaoke, skinny dipping, taking Dubai’s bars by storm, watching porn or playing the pub quiz. And even though there may be some heartache and arguments along the way, every single moment is awesome.

Whether I’ve known them four years or four months, they feel like family. If you’re in trouble, you know they’ll rally together to support you. And I’m a firm believer that you get what you give, which is why none of the bad apples linger.

When you’re 3500 miles away from home, its these guys you want to befriend; they have it all. I love each and every one of them for the same reasons and for different reasons.

M&N, aka the Cool Couple (CC) - for love and laughs
E – for loyalty and genuinity
Mr A.P – for adrenaline and mischief
NJG – for advice and honesty
HC – for bluntness and a splash of colour
RRB – for those schoolgirl giggles
KB, CJ and ML - for sanity, stories and a little education

Last but not least, Little Miss LC…

Little Miss LC is my bestie in Dubai, we’ve been friends pretty much since I first moved here and, although we had a blip for a while thanks to a relationship wanker (a boy for those of you confused), we’re pretty much inseperable. People often ask if we come as a pair and, whenever I tell someone I’m going out on the lash, they’ll always assume it’s with her. They’d be right.

I love Little Miss LC as though she were my little sister. In fact, I probably love her more. We shop together, dine together, drink together. We talk about everything and absolutely nothing. There are no taboos - sex, drugs, periods, childbirth, men, bikini waxes… You name it, we’ve talked about it. We arrive at parties together and we leave parties together, we’re side-by-side pretty much the whole way.

We’ve shared so many good times – drunk Austrian men buying us drinks, road trips with the roof down, bumping into exes and pretending not to see, being spat on by stand-up comedians, hiding people’s cigarettes and shoes, singing karaoke on our own in my flat and laughing so hard it hurts and/or we pee ourselves.

But now, now it’s coming to an end… Two months until Amsterdam steals her and it feels like a boyfriend has just split up with me. I begin to wonder - who will the new girl be? Will she be as fun as me? Will she be prettier? Will bestie think of me when she’s sipping cocktails with her?

It might take me a while to move on. Right now I can’t even think about finding a new gal pal. I guess I’ll just have to make the most of the next two months, which may explain why we’ve been out on the razzle dazzle pretty much every night over the last few days. The realisation that it’s an end of an era has finally hit home… and it’s pretty sad.

How will I tell her what I think of her new boyfriend? How will she tell me what she makes of my new man? Who will tell me if something I’ve tried on in a shop looks hideous? Who’s going to get excited with me about shoes? And who is going to drink cocktail after cocktail after cocktail with me?

I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it… In the meantime, I just want her to know I love her and I’m gonna miss the Bestie Wanker like crazy!! Bring on the nights out over the next two months, lady. And bring on my trip to Amsterdam! Dubai… Watch out!!

xxxxxxxxx