Defo East, Blackpool is a dump but Scarborough has charm ;)

Best chatup line: "Fancy a fuck?" What can I say, it so happens I did.

Worst chatup line comes courtesy of my mother, introducing me to a certain sailor I liked the look of: "This is my un-married daughter." The dust took weeks to settle.

We used to when we lived there, Streatham Common was our favourite, the car park, but a less obvious place is Mitcham Common, near the boating lake.

Peugeot 306 CC Turbo

https://photos.app.goo.gl/NWfTSaR7VRqLWFNs8

Reggae Beach, Jamaica.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/U57EpnVtLDB6xxrX7

Caution, she bites!

A real military uniform for woman, now need the woman!

My husband says my most dangerous fetish is driving naked, in my convertible!

https://photos.app.goo.gl/NvxL84DJhe2KpZib8

No, but in my teens I loved to play with myself in the mirror, particularly with one on the floor so I could pretend my reflection was another girl.

Oh ... Er... Not sure... Let me think about it!

Talk about grabbing you by the throat and dragging you into the book!

NICKLEBACK omg they rock! And they sing to me:

You’re so much cooler when you never pull it out

'Cause you look so much cuter with something in your mouth

A sink to tip it down and a bin for the bottle (recycling bin) buy real Scotch, that JD tastes like used BBQ briquettes soaked in Parafin.

I do, but I have never done my own, if someone wants me shaved, they have to do it, cut me and don't let the door hit you on the way out!

1. I convinced my husband I cannot handle a washing machine, dishwasher, hoover or iron, he does them all.

2. I served one day in the British Army before getting kicked out.

3, I see and talk to Ghosts.

Nude counterpane hurdling.

An old one of me in my husband's uniform shirt.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/3sP18yGmbo5pdoHe6

I Write first person when I am describing what I have experienced, but when I write a fictional story I write in the third party. Oddly enough my made up stories rarely have an erotic thread, just the occasional tortured relationship which sex invariably screws up. Perhaps my under-mind is trying to tell me something!

Mine do, but to my intense annoyance not one of them has read my novel, I know they are not big readers but that seems rather naff of them.

Difficult subject. My first draught of my experiences in a Netball team had to be completely re-written to age all the team safely over 18, I also had to hide the identity of the Coach, who used us as his personal harem, even though he is now dead and tons of stuff have come out about him in the news. I assumed since I was writing about actual events I was okay, but apparently not. Stephen King in his book "Geralds Game" very frankly describes a young girl being molested by her father, and that book is sold here in the UK without any censorship. When Amazon refused my book until I changed it they just said it was "inappropriate" and that I could not name the coach as they were not willing to risk being sued.

Can you get any sadder? Sort of voyeur without a telescope. I started to get these weird E mails from a guy who claimed he controlled me telepathically, said I regularly stripped for him in my bedroom while he watched from his car on the road. Demanded I go down and get into his car. Er, if he controlled me why did he need to order me? And I close the curtains, two teenage boys in the house opposite sort of clue you to get modest. Took it as a joke until the news started to tell stories of women killed.

I got paranoid and noticed there was a car many nights outside our house, had enough one night and went down with a manchette I keep handy, smashed his side window and threatened all sorts. Still doing community service for terrorising a Chinese Meal Delivery Service. Bugger, never liked rice much anyway. 

The bath of course, or the shower, or... well if we are being totally honest, on the sofa browsing the internet on the laptop.

In bed is the last sad pointer to the husband you are neglecting me, Nuts to you, I will do it myself. Have to admit it usually works.

I think the best ever introduction to a novel is "last night I dreamt of mandalay" it certainly impressed the master, Stephen King, who used it in his haunting novel "Bag of Bones" it draws you in at once, where is Mandalay, why should we dream of it? Awesome classic. I personally am instantly turned off by a narrative that intends to engage you, kind of like getting a phone call about extending warranty.

I wrote a book about my experience with a certain superstar, recently deceased and got so many warnings I scrapped it, but the story would not leave me alone so I re-wrote it and changed a lot, but not the events. It is available now on Amazon as Netball - it is not a game, by Paula Ariadne. The superstar? well lets say he liked to make wishes come true.