Who was your first crush?

I was 17 and working a Saturday job in between studying for my A Levels and making new friends at the small-town Technical College I’d just transferred to. Before that, I’d spent a year at a city centre Sixth Form College. I was missing my friends and my old, cosmopolitan life. My new setting didn’t seem to hold much joy for me and I felt like I was going through the motions of life instead of fully living it. I was also feeling lonely. Everyone else seemed to have already paired off into girlfriend-boyfriend couples. I never met a boy I fancied, though, and it was only me and a few other odd bods who were still single.

One Saturday, after work, I switched on the TV while I was waiting for dinner.

This was back in 1990 and TV in the UK consisted of four whole channels. Channel 4 was the newest on the block and my mum frowned upon it for being too avant garde and controversial.

She was occupied in the kitchen so I switched the TV onto Channel 4. There was a music show playing – a country music show. I half-listened and watched the singer, reflecting on my day and wondering how I’d spend my Sunday.

The host of the show announced the next singer and a tall figure dressed in a sparkly blue cowboy suit strode onto the stage. I saw a spiky quiff and smouldering eyes that would have made Elvis envious. And then the song began…

Oh, that voice! Rich, dripping in emotion, seductive… And matched with looks to the camera that said “come hither”.

I hithererd.

In fact, I knelt in front of the TV screen, leaning in to get as close as I could to this vision of loveliness.

As I watched in awe, one thought kept going through my mind:

I don’t know if you are a boy or a girl, but you are what I want.

The song ended. The singer waved and walked away. The show host’s voice said, “Thank you kd lang!”

kd lang. Is that the name of a boy or a girl? I was none the wiser. This was way before we had the internet so I had to sit with my unanswered questions and unexpected feelings.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t had crushes on girls before. I had. I’d had a crush on my best friend, my English teacher, the girl in the year below me who played the trombone… I’d even shared a kiss with a girl. But I’d never met someone so androgynous and so seemingly confident in their sexuality as kd lang.

A trip to the music store that week saw me spending my Saturday paycheque on my first kd lang LP and discovering that she was indeed a she and that I was truly and totally in love.

At 17, I knew I wasn’t in love with the actual kd lang – but I was in love with what she represented. We just didn’t have butch, androgynous, confident, sexy lesbians in the media in the 80s and 90s. At least, none that I had come across before.

I wanted her and I wanted to be her.

I wanted to know that I could create my own way of being a sexual woman – a way that didn’t have to involve high heels, eyeshadow, and putting up with boys’ farting jokes. I was only 17 and at a pivotal point in my blossoming sexuality. kd lang was the sunshine and the rain that helped me to grow. From that first encounter, worshipping her on my knees in front of the TV screen, I learned what my sexual attraction felt like – I learned what my sexual desire felt like.

A few years later, having made it out of the small town and to university in Edinburgh, I was in a café bar (the Filmhouse) and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure stride towards the bar. Blonde hair – not dark like kd – and wearing a black leather jacket and blue denim jeans – not a rhinestone covered cowboy suit. Despite the lack of visual similarity, I instantly recognised the same androgynous sexual confidence I’d watched that day on Channel 4.

Through a series of events that were part synchronicity and part deliberately manufactured by me, we ended up in my bedroom.

My delight in her butch androgyny was matched by her delight in having someone who appreciated and was attracted to the real her. She kissed me firmly, her chin bruising up against mine, as one hand snaked around to unclip my bra. “That’s better,” she said, as my large breasts swung free for her to fondle while we smooched.

Her breasts were tiny in comparison, and she never wore a bra, but she welcomed me playing with her nipples too.

It wasn’t my first time making out with a woman but it was my first time making out with a woman quite like her. My first time being with someone whose self-confidence and self-assurance when it came to fully inhabiting their authentic sexual self, meant that I could take the risk and inhabit mine fully as well. I wasn’t trying to keep up – I was being carried, effortlessly, on the wave of mutual attraction, lust, and appreciation.

Up until then, sex had always felt like a bit of a performance to me. I’d been a spectator in my sexual encounters, worrying about how I looked, worrying about taking too long to orgasm (or faking it because I convinced myself I couldn’t come). But this time I surrendered all of those worries. Even though our bodies were so very different, her confidence in hers allowed me to feel more confident in mine.

The sex wasn’t perfect but it didn’t have to be. It was real, passionate, messy (at times), and ultimately set me on a path of enjoying my sexuality my way.

I still have a soft spot for androgynous butch women. Several decades on, we have new language and understanding of the spectrums and rainbows of gender and sexuality, and I define myself as queer. For now, that seems like the best way to encapsulate my range of sexual attractions, and how it feels to inhabit an ever-changing body. It also gives me space to allow my sexuality to continue to grow in other ways.

The first album I bought of kd lang’s was ‘Absolute Torch and Twang’. The cover shows an image of her wearing blue denim and holding a cowboy hat, standing in a grain field, with a bright and expansive sky overhead. She’s gazing confidently into the distance. She taught me to embrace who I am, to be expansive, and to be confident. Thank you, kd lang.

Do you want to have a go at writing your stories? Access my free Erotic Writing Guidebook here and stay tuned for more writing opportunities and events!

“I needed to hear those stories”

Join storyteller Marie Louise Cochrane of Red Velvet Revelry and me as we talk about the importance of hearing women’s happy stories about sex and sexuality.

And find out how you can get involved in a radical new project…

Marie Louise is a professional storyteller who is passionate about writing, collecting and sharing real life stories from women, as a way of celebrating the sexual aspects of life.

Listen in as we talk about:

* How midlife and other times of change can be the perfect opportunity to revisit your beliefs about sexuality.

* What happened when Marie Louise needed to hear women’s happy stories about sex and sexuality – but couldn’t find any.

* Why all women’s stories have value – those that are similar to our own and those that are wildly different.

* What Marie Louise’s 82-year-old mother said when she heard her daughter was going to be talking on stage to an audience about sex.

* What is ‘Red Velvet Revelry’ and how you can join in.

Connect with Marie Louise:

Red Velvet Revelry website

Red Velvet Revelry on Instagram

Red Velvet Revelry on Facebook

Read my happy sex story…coming soon!

Her Desire

CONTENT NOTE: this post contains erotic and explicit writing

She made eye contact with me the moment I entered the pub. It wasn’t fate; it was design. Her text messages had been specific and compelling. I arrived at precisely 10pm, she gestured to a seat at the bar and I waited there while she served her customer. Then I followed her to the door marked ‘Private’ and slipped in behind her.

We stood facing each other for a moment until I remembered her instructions and dropped my gaze. I focused on the toes of her black ballet pumps: they were scuffed and worn from too many busy shifts. I knew we had only a little time now: ten minutes at the most until she was expected to be back, pulling pints and measuring shots.

I watched her feet as she stepped out of her skirt and moved towards an armchair. I sat on the chair, my hands firmly pinned underneath the weight of my thighs. I dared a glance up at her. She wore a suspender belt but no stockings. Instead, the clasps of the belt were attached to a square of latex, held snuggly against her cunt. So, she really did mean ‘no touching’.

She straddled my lap, grinding against my belt buckle and the buttons on my jeans. I breathed in her scent: beer and a heavy floral perfume. I was 16 again. The landlady of my local had taken me under her wing, given the leering men at the bar a stern talking to, and clasped me to her bosom in an expression of maternal comfort. At 16, I was way too young to be able to deal with the men grabbing at my arse, but I was old enough to understand the thrill I got from feeling my face pressed into the older woman’s breasts. At 16, all I could do was allow myself to be held; at 46, I knew my desires and I knew how to get them met.

She moved up from my lap to bring her crotch level with my face. Now the latex smell from the dental dam obscured the beer scent and there was another muskier note added to the mix. I breathed all of it in. The latex was smooth and warm and my tongue slipped easily over its surface. I pressed a little firmer and felt the contours of her cunt: the hidden folds and valleys that lay beneath; the latex square like a dust cloth that had been draped over priceless possessions to protect them while they lay dormant. Her cunt was not dormant though: I could feel it twitch and pulse beneath my tongue. I explored more of her shape, my eyes closed, my hands numbing under my thighs, my senses of taste and smell overloaded with the up-close-and-personal experience of licking her through the dental dam, and my own cunt flooding with the elicit thrill of touching yet not touching.

We had agreed all of this and, now that it was actually happening, I couldn’t imagine it any other way. To touch her with my hands would have seemed uncouth. To touch her directly with my lips and tongue would have overwhelmed me. There was so much of her to take in just as it was: her hard clit on its proud shaft able to take firm and sustained sucking through the mediation of the latex; her labia plump and full, slipping and sliding in her own moisture as my nose and chin pressed against them; our joint knowledge that this was the only way I could make her come – my tongue, her cunt.

I worked my tongue over every inch of the dental dam, noting her sweet spots and returning to them again and again. The temptation to nip at the latex with my teeth was great – I wanted to consume her – but I daren’t risk tearing the material and getting a taste of her. I knew one taste would never be enough, I knew I’d end up ripping the dam away from her, my fingers – blood rushing, skin burning – would be inside her, and I would break every agreement we had so carefully made.

Her breathing was heavy above me and her hips moved quickly against my face. I latched onto her, suctioning my mouth to her and keeping my tongue moving just so – just how she needed it to be. She held onto my shoulders as she rode out her orgasm.

At 1am, my phone beeped: she offered me another arrangement.

Ready to write your own erotica? Get started with my FREE Erotic Writing Guidebook!

Could you be demisexual?

A lovely person invited me to talk about demisexuality as part of my Ask Anna series.

Here I talk about:

✨What demisexuality is

✨How mainstream culture reinforces only a narrow view of sexuality

✨Why it’s good to open up discussion and give platform to more variety

✨How labeling our sexuality can be helpful

✨ My personal challenge to walk my talk and include more sexual variety in my erotic writing.

So, you want to start writing erotica? Here’s a beginner’s guide

I recently asked people to share their questions with me and I’ve been recording short videos as my answers. This week, I answer your questions about getting started with writing your own erotica.

I talk about:

  • How to find the time to write.
  • How to know what to write.
  • How to give yourself full permission to ‘go there’ and to write shamelessly!

Watch the video here:

You can also download my free erotica guidebook here.

And join in my pre-recorded writing workshop here.

You + Me + the Sea

We will need to find an isolated beach. I want absolute privacy and seclusion with you – I’ll share you with the elements, but that is all.

I’ll make a shelter for us for when we want to rest, and I’ll lay a blanket to keep the sand away from our most tender places. But, other than that, I want us to be completely exposed.

I want us to be naked. Totally. Sunglasses and sunscreen if we need them – I care about protection – but otherwise just you and me and the sand and the sea.

I want to caress you: head to toe. In water. On land. The slight breeze stirring the hairs on your skin in preparation for my fingertips – stirring you deeper.

I want to see you. All of you. Open to my gaze, to my admiration, to the pangs of lust that make my cunt clench and my mouth wet simply from looking at you.

I want us to be free. Free to make all the sounds our bodies have been longing to unleash. I want to scream as the waves – literal, not metaphorical – crash on the shore. I want to be able to call out my love for you, naming you as God.

I want the shifting sun and the changing tide to be our only markers of time passing. I have waited so long for this – I know I will savour every moment.

I want to revel in your pleasure when you wade into the water and launch. Your body and your mood made buoyant by the ocean.

I want to taste the salt: the sea, your sweat, perhaps even my tears – after all, relief brings its own emotions.

Finally, finally, finally – just you and me and the sea.

photo by Linus Nyland on Unsplash

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The radical act of pleasure

I was thrilled to talk with Lara Waldman – The Abundance Activator – for another of my Intimate Conversations!

I love the way that Lara brings together her 25 years of experience in self-development, transformation, and healing work, to offer a new approach to consciously creating our lives. And I also love that she doesn’t shy away from topics like intimacy, shame, and pleasure.

Her life’s mission is to find a path from pain, suffering, anger and fear towards a life of abundance, freedom, happiness and fulfillment.

(Which is pretty much what walking our desire lines is all about…)

Please join us as we talk about the role of Pleasure in consciously creating a life of abundance!

In this deep-diving conversation, we talk about:

* How giving yourself permission for pleasure is a radical act.

* How pain and shame can be portals to pleasure and creating an abundant life.

* Why other manifesting techniques might not be working for you.

* Connecting with your body as a temple of wisdom.

* And opening up to welcome in pleasure.

You can connect with Lara on her website or on Instagram or Facebook

And you’ll find lots of incredible free healing and meditation videos on her YouTube channel

To find out more about my book, Desire Lines, click here

And please subscribe to my email list to be the first to hear about new writing and videos.

Five things I’ve learned about desire

1. Retaining my desire for desire is what matters to me most.

As long as I can feel my desire for desire, I know I’ll be able to navigate the seas of change.

2. Staying curious and creative allows me to stay open to finding and enjoying new desires.

My desire is not a one-time, set thing. It changes, fluctuates, emerges, hides, even does a 180 at times. Staying open to all of these things – and not trying to cling on to only one, familiar way of relating to my desire – means I get to explore and grow and expand and, ultimately, keep choosing.

3. Arousal and genital feelings are only one part of a much bigger picture.

I can feel my desire as a lust for life, not just lust for another or sex or orgasm. When I channel my desire into my whole life, I realise just how potent and creative this aspect of me is.

4. Self-sufficiency matters.

Yes, being able to share my desire with others matters too, but the only person I can guarantee I’ll have in my life, is me. I am my own lover first, foremost, and always.

5. Pleasure and desire come in many different forms.

When I tune into my whole self and ask “what do you need, what do you want, what will light you up?” I hear my body yearning for a dip in the cold sea, I hear my craving for slow, sensuous touch, and I hear a whisper reminding me that my potential for pleasure is unlimited.

Of course there’s LOTS more to say about Desire! You can read more in my book ‘Desire Lines’.

Image by Chris Barbalis on Unsplash

Find out more behind-the-scenes insights and sharing by joining my community email list (and get a free guide to writing erotica too!)

Growing desire into pleasure

Desire is longing, anticipation, yearning, having and not having.

When I write about desire I often feel it as an ache, an empty space waiting to be filled, a delicious potential.

Pleasure is in the moment, embodied, felt and received.

When I write about pleasure it is in my active voice, it is something I have, something experienced.

I’ve been curious of late about the differences between these two, and the relationship between them. Why I am drawn to write about one more than the other. Why it sometimes feels more comfortable to write about longing than it does fulfilment.

Perhaps it comes down, in part, to owning the fact that – ultimately – I am responsible for my own pleasure. It is something inside of me, not something out there. My pleasure is something to be created rather than found. Yes, I can choose to co-create with a willing and enthusiastic other, but I can’t expect them to bring me my pleasure (like the old TV advert where the man swings through the high-rise window to present his chocolate box offering “all because the lady loves Milk Tray”).

We’re not taught this though. We are taught that desire is a sign of something we are lacking and need to obtain. We’re not taught that desire is a signpost to our inner world.

Desire is the seeds that we plant in our inner landscape. We nurture them. We attend to them. We allow them to grow and, when we are ready, we can enjoy the fruits and flowers of pleasure that harvesting them offers us.

It feels radical to know that my pleasure is already within me, waiting to be harvested.

And what about when I choose to share that pleasure? When I choose to add my fruits and flowers into the garden of another Eden where someone else’s seeds have been nurtured and grown too? We can share our mutual harvests but we need to each bring something to the table: I can’t expect to feast solely on their offerings and neither can I allow them to feast solely on mine.

We co-create our mutual pleasure, grown from the seeds of our individual desires.

Pleasure is embodied. And that means I have to allow myself to feel it. To feel excitement, joy, delight, rapture, and love.

Those are big feelings. Bold feelings. Courageous feelings.

Pleasure is not passive. Pleasure needs to be received, allowed, accepted. Desires can remain dormant until they are given the attention and actions they need to grow, evolve, and – if we choose – be realised.

I’ve been taught how to brush the feelings of want and longing under the carpet, to shift my focus away from them and onto something ‘more  important’. But if I never nurture my desires, how can I allow myself to fully understand and enjoy pleasure?

And pleasure is important! It feeds into my vitality, my wellbeing, and my ability to make my contribution to the world. We all benefit from pleasure. We each remember who we truly are – touch our soul’s magnificence – through pleasure.

Walking my desire lines is my active pursuit of pleasure. But my desire lines are also about more than just pleasure. Walking my desire lines is my path to self-awareness and self-understanding, my path to self-expression. Ultimately, walking my desire lines is my path to embracing more than just the potential for pleasure; I walk to step into pleasure, bringing the whole of me on the journey – body, mind, and soul.

Read more about walking our desire lines (click) here.

And please join my mailing list to find out more…

PleasurePractices #4: Garden of delights

These PleasurePractices are a record of my explorations with medibation — masturbation as meditation. Exploring self-touch and self-pleasure from new angles.

Not so much a ‘how-to’ but more a series of ‘what-ifs’. I share these openly along with an invitation for you to explore your own what-ifs:

What might you like to give to yourself, and to receive? What might you try that you’ve never tried before? What pleasure might you create? And what else might you discover?

One of my long-held fantasies centres on having a private, outdoor space where I can be naked and commune with the elements.

I want to stand in a rainstorm and feel the water drenching my hair and skin, running down my back, and wetting my lips. I want to press my torso against the rugged bark of a broad tree, my arms wrapped around it in an embrace. I want to feel my body as the part of nature it truly is, no clothes coming between us, just the air and the breeze to let me know where I stop and she starts.

My pleasure practice today was all about giving myself that gift.

It wasn’t the perfect and ideal vision I have been holding but it was what my body was calling for.

I walked into the garden barefoot and in a robe. The cool air caressed my skin as I undressed completely and just stood for a moment, feeling the ground – warmer than I expected – underneath my soles. I lay down and let the overgrown grass enfold me, feeling the Earth’s heartbeat gradually slowing my own.

When I’d had my fill, I went back indoors to continue this exploration of pleasure, lying on the carpet in a patch of sunlight, my body alive and awakened and ready for my touch.

My name is Anna Sansom and I’m endlessly curious about how we each explore and enjoy our unique sexual selves. I write about my own experiences and I write erotic fiction, all with the aim of giving us language and ideas so we can make our own journeys – walk our own desire lines – to our fullest, truest selves.

This blog is like looking in my open window.

You can come inside by signing up here.

I’ll put on the kettle and make us a cuppa to enjoy while we chat (and I’ll send you a free book for afterwards too).