I thought I was Snow White

Alone in the forest, waiting for the one to love

Surrounded by unkissable dwarfs

which I kissed anyway


But when he came along

– and I still thought I was Snow White –

– beautiful, unique, the end of his story –

I turned into the bad, mad queen


I looked in the mirror and killed with my look

All women around me and all love within me

I put hateful spells together

And drowned my beauty in anger


After a long long dark time

I came out of the dark forest

Thought I should be one of many

Should be wise and above it all

On top of the mountain

Strong and free

And I should share him in lots of ways

Be as independent and unattached as a leave in the wind

And bury my anger and jealousy all together


But now that I have shared him with many others

Queens and princesses

And I often felt beauty and sometimes pain

I discover that I can still be his one


I can be a silly romantic, a princess or a frog,

I can be strong, I can be weak,

I can be a whore in the dungeon,

I can be a slave or a master,

I am the beauty and the beast


I can be

with me and with him

And with others


And be the one:


Ten times more

In a bit of a romantic mood this friday night.This is what I think every time I see a happy couple probably in their seventies or eighties or more…

I wanna grow old with you
I wanna have 50 more years together
Ten times more than what we had until now
That sounds like much
But also not enough
I know I’m a pain in the ass sometimes
But I want to invent us again and again
Want to smell you
Want to know you by my side
Want to lie on your arm till you have pins and needles
Want to feel this incredible gratitude for us having had the chance to walk this whole way together

International Relations

Some of my friends laugh at me, about the fact that I studied International Relations. Yes I did. And yes I did… They say I should write a book about it.

About why and who I studied arabic for.
Why I traveled all of the Czech Republic before I was even 18.
How I made love on top of a french volcano.
Why I payed 500 Euro for a flight to the other side of the world, but in the last minute didn’t get on the plane.
About dancing Tango with a (crazy) stranger in the streets of London at Lunch and ending up with a proposal at Dinner.
Or about very charming irish men and their sometimes more and sometimes less catholic mothers.

Maybe I will write this one day. And my boyfriend will kill me (-I swear, the volcano was awesome, the sex on it more awful than awesome).

50 shades

Yes, sometimes I am a late bloomer. 50 shades of grey is in the post for me. Is it really awful for someone who is trying to write erotic literature to not have read 50 shades yet? …Is it too late to ring at my neighbour’s door and go get it?… What did you think of 50 shades of grey? I better hurry. I wanna read it before the film is out…
xxx ten thursday

Behind me

I like when you finger me from behind
I press my pelvis onto the bed
I can’t see you and so
I enjoy the view you have

My legs slightly spread
My well-rounded bum
My bronzed back
My neck
My groaning

It’s just your hand and me
I enjoy your strokes and
I press my breasts with my hands
I caress my nipples

You slide your finger between my soft lips
You feel how wet they get
You find my clitoris and
You play with it while

My mind flirts with this stranger
My flesh hot from his touch
My eyes are closed
My legs are spread
My arousal heightening

You stroke the tip
You caress around it
You massage and stroke and caress
You do, what you do, I don’t know how but

My clitoris is aroused to the max
My vagina so wet
My nipples so hard
My breath and moaning loud
My hips pushing back so

I can take you deeper
I move back and forth
I’m addicted to those fingers
I feel my clitoris pulsating

You stimulate my favourite spot
I welcome waves of
My climax … mmmh … so strong and juicy and hot!