Susie interviews me

Because one of my stories is included in Susie Bright's beautiful X: The Erotic Treasury, here's a short interview she did with me. It was conducted over the vast expanse of the interweb, and not in bed as I would have preferred.

Have you ever won an award- or condemnation- for any of your talents?

I lost out on a Golden Phallus statue at the 2007 Erotic Awards, which I lusted for, but I have yet to be invited to any gala events where I might have to step onstage and make a speech.

Mostly I think there isn't an award that matches my ambitions in life. If there was some sort of Cunnilinguist award, combining writing and oral sex, I think I'd be a strong contender.

Have you ever used a pen name of the opposite gender from yourself?

No - well, "MonMouth" isn't exactly gender-specific - but a number of people who read my blog seem convinced that I am a woman. I find it enormously flattering, but it makes me wonder what exactly I would try to change if I attempted to write under a female pseudonym. Perhaps I write in a sort of hermaphroditic style?

Reprehensible

I didn't really notice her wedding ring until I tied her hands behind her back. It was a slim gold band, barely noticeable between a couple of oversize plastic rings in bright green and pink. Plastic is a goth's best friend.

She knelt on the thick carpet, clad only in tattoos and dark hair extensions. Her torso was securely wrapped in a halter top of black rope around her chest,

"This is a morally reprehensible thing to do," she said, opening her mouth wide to accommodate my cock.

Bloglift

Because this little blog is now 5 years old, I decided to give it a bit of a facelift.

This is what happens when you grow up in the public eye, after all. At first you're fresh and cute, then gradually your age starts to show, with unfavourable comparisons to the younger models becoming embarrassingly frequent.

It starts with innocent little questions like "Mon, why don't you have automatic backlinks for each post?"

Cue the old-geezer reply: "Heh? What's that? Some newfangled invention for bloggery? In my time, young whippersnapper, we didn't have automated backlinks, oh no, we had to scour the internet in our spare time looking for references to ourselves, then painstakingly hand-sew them into the blog posts, writing out lines of HTML in longhand..."

"HTML?" asks the youngster. "What's that? We just use templates, old man. We have better things to write than stupid HTML code!"

And so it has come to pass that the template gets updated, and I treat myself to a silicone bum-injection.

50 words: Exactly

"I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do," she said.

I instructed her to stand still while I undressed.

Swaying slightly on her stilettos, I could see her getting more fidgety; by the time she was blindfolded and bent over, she trembled ever so slightly.

Take it easy

I was under the impression we were taking it easy, until she unzipped my jeans and took my half-hard cock in her mouth. Sitting on her sofa, I had been in her small North London flat for less than 10 minutes, and already I was having this enjoyable problem: When the hostess hands you a glass full of sparkling water, then immediately goes down on you, where do you put the glass?

There was no table within reach. I leaned back, relishing the feeling of her cool, fresh mouth around my hardening cock. She'd just had a large sip of cold water before pouncing on me.

"Ummm. Fuck. Mmmmm.... Rosie?"

"Mmmhmmm," she answered with her mouth full.

"I'm... aaaah.... holding a glass of.... fuck."

She came up for air and noticed my predicament. Laughing she took the glass and put it on the table.

"We're not in a rush, are we?"

"Sorry, no. I've just been looking forward to a bit of male company."

I began to unbutton her black shirt. One button at a time. Slowly. Pinching a nipple now and then.

Rosie giggled, stood up and pulled the shirt off, over her head. She was on to me with the teasing.

"Actually," she said, pulling her jeans down around her hips. "I'm just too fucking horny."

She tossed the jeans aside. Stroking a breast with one hand, and caressing the bulge of her pubis through the silky fabric of her knickers, she stood in front of me, her hand inches away from my nose.

I leaned back, and stroked my cock. "Really?" I asked, like it was all a big marvelous surprise.

She bent over to take it in her mouth. "You know, I'm just going to suck on this for a minute, and then I really need you to fuck my brains out."

"No rush," I said as her lips slid down the shaft of my cock. "Take all the time you want."