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Lovely story Sienna. It seems like your life exactly. I knew AJ was TRT! :)

CONGRATULATIONS ON 500 PAGES!!!!! If I responded to your post on our differing music preferences, I would be the first on page 500...

Remember, I'll be online later...... ;)

Dancing Sex Machine

OMG!! Mum's fave music :D :p :kiss:
 
I do know you afterall Sie.... always am listening :)

My taste in music is inspired by both my love of dance and those years I was "taught" to play music by hear. I had natural "rhythm" genetically from my Mum's italian roots I suppose. Dad's side of his family are all Yorkshire farmers or market gardeners with their roots firmly placed in Yorkshire history. They can be quite "snobby" and nationalistic in atitude. My Dad taking an italian wife did not go down very well as she was the daughter of refugee parents from a once enemy state in the second world war. I rarely mix with Dad's older relatives or visit them, but uncle Harry (Dad's brother and his wife were kind and generous people).

I learned to play piano and clarinet (the sax was difficult for me to handle). My lessons began in classical music, but I listened to smooth jazz and soul and found that easy to emulate by listening. So away went the expensive music teacher and hello came smooth jazz which I can experiment with when I want and feel like it. Also, I can dance to it's rhythm autmatically as my body responds to that ever so relaxing sound.

I can't write music, which I think amazes Lorraine. Her sons are "real" musicians, whilst I remain the forever amateur, playing just for fun, then getting bored, and returning to it when the whim takes me. However, teaching samba is something I love to do for a rewarding pastime, and I have had work, voluntary for afro-american dancers and musicians in the Manchester areas. I love to see the youngsters pick up those moves so easily and they were fun to work with. Yet, here in the UK that kind of genre of music relies on local government funding which runs out and there is no more saddly once it's gone :(
 
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Evening Sie, looks like a promising story, I'll have a proper read tomorrow!


How are you this fine night?
 
Happy 500th Sienna! Here's a kiss and a grope to celebrate!
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Evening Sie, looks like a promising story, I'll have a proper read tomorrow!
How are you this fine night?
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Hi De-Val :) :kiss:;)
Hi SLO :) :kiss:... Welcome back...
And, MrBrett... we atleast agree on Taylor Swift :)
 
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Hi De-Val :) :kiss:;)
Hi SLO :) :kiss:... Welcome back...
And, MrBrett... we atleast agree on Taylor Swift :)

We also agree on yOni....could never live without that loveliness :)

And we like each other ;)
 
Thread historicals:

From October 2007:
*AJ in this diary is TRT*

A Story To Be Told

My biographical diary...

Continued...

*note, with respect, the reader must read this with an "open" mind... thank you*

Chapter Three: Robert

I was already everything a woman should be and Jules had now admitted to her sexual exploits with boyfriends. I did not feel left out by not going all the way with my occasional boyfriends as she did. I wanted my defloration to be special and not just a quick shag wherever and whenever I could get one. I was still contented with natural safe sex and the person who was to take my virginity had to be old enough and mature enough to make it worthwhile. I needed a male lover suitable enough to do the deed I required. I did not wait too long.

One such man was Robert. He was twenty-five years old and lived with his wife and newborn child in one of the local villages near my father’s farm. He was tall and handsome and strong and he reminded me of the gamekeeper, Mellors in the story, Lady Chatterley's Lover, which made it all so romantic to my nieve imagination. Despite his rough looks, I began to warm and enjoy his personality the more I got to know him. I felt as if I needed to spend more time with him and to get to know more about him. We kind of “clicked” into place like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, no matter how much older he was than me. Soon we began to embrace and kiss like proper lovers. I learned to trust him. The feelings I had for him grew stronger. It was time to make my decision, and he was my choice. This man was the one to take away my virginity forever.

Outside the snow had begun to to fall making the Christmas atmosphere appropriate. I spent most of the early evening with my cousins discussing friends and the usual favourite music. One of us had sneaked a glass of mulled wine and we shared it amongst us. I was glad we did, because I needed it as my nerves were getting the better of me thinking about Robert and what I had planned for later that night. I had my own bedroom, all to myself. I knew that the others would not be awake for too long. The plans I had made with Robert began to slip into place.

I did not dress up for the occasion. I was not enticing Robert into having sex with me. I just wanted him to do it in the most romantic way possible. I simply wore my nightshirt and nothing else like the proverbial virgin waiting for the deed to take place. I looked at myself in the mirror, staring into my own eyes, asking myself in my mind if this was right or wrong. I was convinced it was right. Already Robert was late as I looked at my watch… almost midnight. I lay on the bed and waited for him to arrive. I was questioning myself, asking myself if I was doing the right thing and my conscience told me that it had to happen one day and the time was right.

Suddenly I heard the clink of a stone against the window. I looked out and saw Robert. I opened the window and quietly told him to climb up the drain pipe and into my window. “Is it safe?” he asked. I tried to rattle the drain pipe checking if it was loose and it was solid. “No, I mean is everyone asleep.” he replied. Of course it was safe. The bedroom was at the rear of the house and the most quietest place over the kitchen below, and the bathroom next door. Robert shimied the drain pipe and I let him in. We kissed passionately and we sat quietly for a while on the bed while he made himself comfortable and I could see that he was just as nervous as I was.

“Are you ok with this? I mean really ok?” I asked him. I did not want him to feel pressured. He told me that he was looking forward to it. I wanted him to be enthusiastic, but not that much. This was a serious moment for me. I was the one about to loose something I would never have for the rest of my life again. I had religious convictions too. I had to be prepared to confess my sins once I had done it. I explained to him how secret this whole thing had to be and I had to trust the priest with it next confession day. He question that and I assured him that everything was fine. Robert was not a religious man and he certainly did not trust anyone with our secret.

He lay me down on the bed and began to kiss me. I stopped him. “Wait. Not like this.” I demanded. “Take off your clothes, all of them.” His haste began to make me feel nervous. I wanted it done my way. He insisted I took mine off first and that was easy as I only had to slip the nightshirt off over my head. I watched him as he stared at me and I wondered what was going through his mind. What did he think of me? Was I what he expected? Was he having doubts about doing this with me?

“You’re beautiful. Just as I had imagined.” he said. His fingers reached out for my breasts and I closed my eyes feeling his gentle touches against my sensitive nipples. “I could get used to this, but my wife would surely have me out if she ever found out.” he said. I did not really need to know that. I wanted this to be totally romantic, like in those novels I had read. I encouraged him to remove his clothes as I watched. And there he was, the first naked man standing before me. The obvious thing was his penis standing to attention. He was quite big. Bigger than any other I had seen until then and bigger than I had ever imagined he would be. It did not phase me or make me feel scared.

There was something beautiful about seeing a naked man standing before me. Everything I had fantasised about was there, apart from the size of his manhood. He certainly was gorgeous and my fears were giving way to my feelings of want. I reached out to touch his chest, moving my fingertips downwards as I felt his soft skin. And then I felt his manhood as I clenched it gently in my hand. “Is that ok?” I asked. He answered with a nod and a reassuring smile as my fingertips continued to brush through his course pubic hair and onto his scrotum, so firm yet so soft to the touch, like the others I had played with, only this time I was going to let it enter me. It was not as easy as I had imagined it could be. I began to shake with fear and passion all at the same time. I wondered if it would hurt me like I was told by many others, even though Jules and I had already used deep finger penetration on each other on many occasion.

From that moment on we embraced each other closely and intimately. We kissed passionately as we had done before. It was like we had moved into that initimate trance where we seemed to share each others minds, just like Jules and I did so many times before. Only this person was not Jules, it was Robert, a man and someone entirely different, physically and sexually. This was not a game, but something serious and it felt so good. I began to quiver and shake uncontrolably, I was on somekind of emotional override.

Safe sex was important. I insisted that he use a condom wisely. I could not risk becoming pregnant. This was not the time to make mistakes against diseases or his sperm. The risks were far too high. I let him do it as I lay back on the bed watching, trying to relax, breathing calmly. His eyes were fixed firmly on my naked body as he slipped the condom on so confidently. It was so hard to imagine that this man had so little experience with other women but his wife. I suppose men do do not always reveal everything about their past experiences, good or bad. It was all about bravado and making out that he was the perfect lover. I never have fully understood men even to this day and yet I felt safe in his company and what we was about to do.

As his tongue and lips explored almost every part of my body I felt more and more confident with him. It felt so good. I was returning into the erotic trance and realised that we were now making love. His fingers brushed over my pubic mound as we kissed passionately, entering my most intimate part of my body. I could tell he was searching to see how aroused I was and what reaction I made as his fingers explored every part of me. “You’re ready, I can tell.” he said. With my eyes closed, I nodded my reply. Then it happened so gently and so easily. I felt his erection entering me, opening me up. There was nothing blocking the way as my hymen had fallen apart by itself years ago through constant cycling and exercise. I was tight, very tight as I could feel the walls of my vagina grip. He moved in and out slowly. “Just relax…” he whispered. I started to feel his hardness become more easier to take, and it did not hurt at all. My arousal was making it easier for him to move faster and deeper into me each thrust he made, but not too fast. “Are you ready?” he asked. I wondered what could be next. Ready for what? I thought. And then it happened…

He began to move in and out of me faster and harder. I gripped his shoulders tightly as I heard him groaning, feeling him breathing heavier on my neck with each thrust. I felt myself tingling all over, my orgasm was rising gently to its peak. Was this what it was like to make love? To be actually fucked? Soon I was riding with him, trying to make both of us be more quiet so as not to disturb the rest of the house. Suddenly, I realised that control had switched over to me. He was in total ecstasy and I was only partly there as he began to quiver and stop instantly. I put my hand over his mouth gently as he raised his head to moan out. He had come. It was so fast. It was all over so quickly, just like it was with the others using my hand. Was that it?

I waited for him to recover, taking him in my arms, brushing his hair with my fingertips, relaxing him. His breathing slowly returned to normal as did his heartbeats. I could even feel him slacken inside of me and eventually my vagina released him. “That was perfect…” he whispered in my ear. I was not sure at that moment if that was it. I expected more. I expected it to be like it was with Jules, where we would make each other come and keep on coming until we had both had enough. We lay in each others arms and we kissed. Then I watched him resting with his eyes closed, half expecting him to fall asleep. Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked at me. “I can go longer now.” he said. “I’ve another condom. That’s if you want to?” I smiled back at him realising that he needed time to recover. That first time was like when I had masturbated imagining wild fantasies. I would have quick releasing orgasm after orgasm. Maybe men were not so different afterall I thought. And loosing ones virginity to the opposite sex was not exactly as I had expected either. It was more intriguing and interesting to say the least as if it had opened up a brand new horizon to what I already thought I knew.

The second time around took longer. He had taken me to ecstasy and back before he came. He pulled out of me and began to use his tongue and fingers, thumbing my clitoris until I could not take anymore. Sex with Robert had suddenly become like the experimental sex with Jules that I already knew about. The act had been completed and I did not regret it for one moment. Atleast, not at the time I didn’t. I was no longer a virgin and never will be again.
 
Thread historicals:

From October 2007:
*AJ in this diary is TRT*

A Story To Be Told

My biographical diary...

Continued...

*note, with respect, the reader must read this with an "open" mind... thank you*

Chapter Three: Robert

You lost your virginity to a married man!? Wow! You sure were a she-devil. At least you haven't changed.... still a devil of a girl :)
 
You lost your virginity to a married man!? Wow! You sure were a she-devil. At least you haven't changed.... still a devil of a girl :)

As long as his wife never found out, either of us were bothered. He, Robert was the one I had chosen and trusted. A farmhand I had become friendly with during those late summer visits (the holidays) to what was then my uncle's farm, no longer Dad's at that time as I moved with mother a few years before to live in a close town to Manchester. The reason for the move was both Mum and Dad seperated and Dad sold the farm to his brother, seeking a new outlet, which is now our family business :)

I visited often for old time sake to visit my cousins, aunt and uncle.
 
Continued...

Chapter Four: Susan

Robert had exited my life as fast has he had entered it. The few months that I had known him were just fading into my memory. I thought that I was in love with him, but today I am not so sure. The compassionate love I had for Jules was unique and stable in the way that we trusted each other. At the time I thought that Robert had loved me in the same way. In a way I tricked him into a secret relationship and he took advantage of me all the way through it. I grew more wary of relationships with men, finding positive safety in what Jules and I had.

My private music and dance lessons continued. My mother thought that it would appease my hyperactivity and I had learned to love them as the years went by. I became deeply interested in the piano and clarinet, but I would never have the confidence to play in public. I could never get the hang of reading music and soon learned to play by ear. The dance lessons help me find my way to both latin and improvised ballet as well as keeping me fit and strong. I started to write and keep my diaries and found literature exciting to both read and write. Because I only slept a few hours a day, I was able to adapt to those longer hours which others wasted sleeping whilst I ocupied myself more and more in the gifted arts that I began to thrive in.

Pineapple was much older than the rest of us in our possy. Slowly she began to influence Jules out of her habits of drug abuse and drinking, and making love with Jules began to get more and more adventurous. Our relationship was a secret, but Pineapple realised before the others that we were both locked in a secret lesbian affair.

One evening Pineapple asked; “Are you two gay?” Jules and I looked at each other. We never ever associated ‘gay’ as being two female lovers. At that moment we admitted our sins and for the first time we were told by someone outside of our relationship that it wasn’t wrong to be that way, but still we felt safe by hiding the truth from the others. We trusted Pineapple even more and discovered that she was bi-sexual herself in her feelings. We discovered that both Jules and I felt exactly the same. The term “universal lovers” entered our list of characteristic labels and it is a term I still often use today rather than saying; “I’m bi!”

I was still very cautious about lads and treaded very carefully. I learned to flirt and dated them, building a list of short relationships that came and went. Then I realised, even though I didn’t have intercourse with most of them, that I was beginning to get a reputation. The rumours came back to me and Jules that I was an amazing fuck, yet all I mostly did was offer them hand relief as part of my safe sex regime. There was one lad I did go “all the way with” using a condom and I realised that he too had a reputation for conqueing as many ‘lovers’ as possible. It only lasted a few weeks before I found out that he had made one of conquests pregnant.

Then Jules and I entered a ‘political’ period in our lives. We got all the grades we needed to go onto college and possible university later, but we refused to follow the established rules of society. We became radicals. On one side we had Pineapple lecturing us about our futures and how we were letting opportunities slip away. On the other side was my Mum, who adamantly declared her disapointment in the direction I was going. And, I would run away to stay with my father for a few days, who had been seperated from Mum since I was 11 years old. He was very open minded about my education I thought. Then I realised that he had old ideas and believed that women and girls still had their certain place in society. It soon dawned on me that it was that very attitude that eventually forced both he and my Mum apart.

What became difficult was finding the money I needed to live my lazy lifestyle. I was certainly not going to find a job where I would be paid very little for being a dogs body. My older sister helped out as well as those short visits to Dad, when he would lovingly tip me a reasonable amount of spends. I was his favourite, thank heavens, and he never questioned my needs for such high requests. I pretended to find work which helped me gain favouritism with Mum, until eventually she realised that I was never attending job interviews.

Dad presented me with my first car after spending a few weeks in his haulage office watching how people did their jobs. He called it work experience. I called it totally boring. But, I stayed with it because I needed a car which was promised at the end. The thing he didn’t realise was, I had not passed my driving test and I was still driving around using my provisional licence. I was very lucky never to be caught by the police. Those radical few years would have to end at sometime it seemed.

That was when I met a student called Susan. She was smart and we became friends very quickly. It was during a time that Jules and I had fallen out over a pair of shoes of mine that I had accused her of selling. Over the weeks I got to know Susan it became obvious that she was different to other girls and my friends. Even though I had dabbled in lesbianism with Jules, I didn’t realise what a fully commited lesbian did, until Susan actually ‘touched’ me.

“I have never wanted men,” she explained. “I can only make love to other women.” This didn’t shock me. I knew there such girls and women around, but I tended to avoid them because their roughness scared me. But, Susan was not rough. She was beautiful and gentle. She turned the heads of many men that admired her and I too found her very sexy and appealing. I did not hesitate to make love with her and I found it so inspiring. The sex was amazing. She taught me how to do things Jules and I had never yet discovered.

Controlled multiple orgasms, fisting and discovering certain feelings that only two women could appreciate in sharing. She was experienced in her sapphic art and in those few weeks I knew her I learned more about sex than ever before. But, there was one thing we agreed upon which helped us both part so quickly: never fall falsely in love with each other. Susan told me that life was not just about having fun. There was a time when I had to be responsible for others and seriously pay my way in life. At that moment I began to think much more seriously about where I was going with my life.

Within a few weeks I had found a job with a well known cosmetics company as a junior sales representative. The wages were poor, yet it was fun too. I enjoyed it and made friends with two other girls my age doing the same job. Carla and Fiona and we became like peas in a pod. We had to contend with bossy people, yet we still managed to have fun and do our menial tasks day after day. Also, as a reward, Mum allowed me to keep all of the money I earned.

Once our induction was out of the way I began to enjoy working for the company. I felt part of their organisation and it gave me a sense of belonging to something worthwhile. Meeting the public in the north west stores, offering free samples and vouchers to the customers who I took to very easily, although the patter I had to use was becoming boring. I soon loosened up and developed my own rapore with them.

The days we spent in the office were fun too. To break up the boredom of sitting around doing nothing but being there helping to file away paper orders, Carla, Fiona and I used to get up to all kinds of things. One day we dared to photostat our bums and pin the prints to the wall. Each of us in turn sat on the machine and let the scan do the rest. Amazing how different our tushies looked on those copies. The other staff looked at them and remained silent, passing no comments whatsoever, but one could feel what they were thinking which made it all the more fun, guessing whos tushy belonged to who. We were going to do our boobs as a run-up dare, but our supervisor advised us that it would not be a good idea. Bums are bums. Boobs would take things a little too far. The only reason we were allowed to get away with bums was because the office staff all knew each other and they understood our humour.

It was when I met Thomas. He was the main area sales representative and gorgeous. It was such a shame though, because he had no sexual interest in women. Thomas was gay. However, this did not stop me from befriending him. I fell in love with his femininity and found it intriguing. He became a very good friend and someone nice to be with and look at.

Soon I ‘dated’ Thomas in a plutonic way. We loved each others company and I used to get invited to the gay clubs around Manchester, meeting his lovers and other gay friends. It was then I began to understand homosexuality a little more clearly, including my own sexuality. The clubs attracted lesbians, sapphos and transvestites of both sexes, although I avoided the butch lesbians like the plague. Some how they tended to scare me, which made me value my bi-sexuality a little more. Atleast I was a woman and I was comfortable with that. I had no yearnings to become masculine like some of them did.

Very soon I began to get bored when Carla left. Fiona was seriously dating a boyfriend and talking about the institution of marriage for life. I didn’t know him and Fiona would dominate our conversations about him. I began to feel as if I did know him, personally. Fiona was not shy with personal details of their exploits and I already began to picture his supposed ten inch cock and the fantastic things he could do with it.

Thomas was promoted to assistant regional sales manager. He was looking for someone with a car, who could get involved in stock control, which meant a journey to Hull twice a week. I had a car, but I was illegal, still driving on my provisional licence. At the time I didn’t think it was important and offered to take on the tasks required. It meant that I could get out of the office more between local sales displays in the stores.

Those journeys to and from Hull were great and I felt free, until after a few months my Dad found out and demanded I take my driving test immediately. I passed first time, but I got bored with those journeys. I hated getting into long traffic jams and returning home late in the evenings as it was interferring with my social life.

The break arrived with an opportunity I had always dreamed of. Modelling was a fantasy. I was short and knew I had no chance of competing with those busty long legged girls that graced the pages of fashion magazines. If I did manage to break into modelling somehow, then I would be rare.
 
Continued...

Chapter Five: The Dutch Geordie

One morning I was told that there was a photographer arriving at the office to take pictures of the staff for their badges. Fiona told me that it was also a talent spotting exercise for Marie Claire, a well known fashion magazine related to the company. My mind began to race with ideas of opportunities. One by one the staff entered the room the photographer was doing his photo shoots and then it was my turn.

I fell in love with the photographer as soon as I saw him. He was much older than I was, yet I saw him as my Adonis. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen and he seemed to like me too. His accent intrigued me for someone who was supposed to be Dutch. I had never met a Dutch geordie before. After a few head shots for the badges, we began to chat. It turned out he was as english as I was and he had recently returned from working in Holland. It didn’t take long during the chatting that the flirting began. He was tactile too, and I realised that he was finding me just as attractive as I found him. We flirted, taking opportunity in the fact that I was the last one to be photographed. It didn’t take long either in us arranging a date. I accepted his invitation. I would have been stupid not to.

My life began to change once I had met AJ the photographer. He was a man in his early thirties, a divorcee with lots of experience in many things and most amazing of all, a fantastic lover, which I was to discover later on in our relationship. He would call me on the phone every two hours a day and take me on expensive dates. He flattered me by telling me that I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Of course, most men who fancied you would say that. But this time I had met someone who did respect me for who and what I was. I told him about my relationship with Jules and he accepted it without any bias reaction whatsoever.

I discovered that he was running away from a terminated marriage which only lasted less than two years. He had a daughter still living with her mother and grandmother in Holland. He desperately missed her and it was his personal goal to stabilise his life, settle down and fight for total custody. This I admired greatly and instantly supported him.

We did not have full blown sex for weeks and weeks during our relationship. It was a romantic love affair that was sustained by simple closeness and respect. But AJ had a strange fetish which I realised had kept him going sexually. When I discovered it, I wasn’t sure. To me at first it was perverse and disgusting. I had never met anyone with that secret behaviour ever before. He admitted that he was a panty sniffer and took great pleasure from smelling womens worn underwear, and in strip clubs he would take disgarded panties and thongs thrown into the crowd. He would pay in order to aquire them. Once I discovered this I felt sick until he explained it to me in more detail. I realised how intimate it was for him and how essential it was for him to respect women. However, I felt I needed to wean him from his addiction.

He found work in Holland after failing his job seeking attempts in the UK. There he managed to work as a photographer and videographer for an adult entertainment company. Soon he met his wife, a porn actress of little acclaim. They married and not long afterwards the marriage turned deeply sour. He was being threatened by various people and a quick divorce and escape was necessary. On his
return to the UK he became a freelance photographer and how we met where I worked. But AJ was not really a professional photographer. He was in the wrong profession completely. Again, I was committed to help him find his true niche in life. In a sense he was alone with no friends that he could trust. He was a man lost and he needed salvation.

As the months followed I told my Dad about him. AJ only lived a few yards from my Dad’s appartment. They both bonded and AJ found a new trusting friend. “You look after my baby and I’ll look after you.” were the simple words told to him by my Dad. The plan was to get AJ “sorted out” and the first task was to introduce him to the right kind of employment and living standards. His home was Newcastle, but he was unsure of his own family, so a new life in Sheffield was established. He had found work in a local builders merchants with help of Dad’s contacts.

My aim was to buy our own home. Dad was strict in his ideas and thought that my ideas were too early to follow through. I was adamant and once AJ settled into his job after taking our first holiday in Ibiza to discuss my plans, he accepted it. We found a house and moved in, officially living together, but this introduced new unforseen problems.

I was young and probably stupid. AJ had instilled into my mind that I could make a future from modelling. So, I tried and answered an ad in one of his magazines, not realising what the job required. I kept the whole thing to myself in fear of being criticised and if I made it, then atleast I could surprise everyone. My interview portfolio included topless shots of me taken on holiday in Ibiza and these got me through the first stages of the interview. I was on my way to a daunting reality and a personal disaster.

I was about to embark on a life experience I did not know existed. It was totally controlled by fear. It lasted only three weeks for me and for others it must have lasted an eternity. It was cruel and humiliating and some did survive, reaping the rewards until they found a safer alternative and possibly a guilty concience for the rest of their lives.

AJ left his job in the builders merchants. His past and the stress of leaving his daughter began to affect him. One day he packed his bags and left. A day later he called me from Stockholm, telling me that he was looking for freelance work that he had found on the internet. I left him to it, hoping that he was fine. Atleast we had contact.
 
Continued...

Chapter Six: Underworld

I followed up an invitation to join a modelling agency which also meant staying away from home. When I got there it was not what I expected. I was given a lecture by these people who demanded £500 for my lodgings. At first it looked legitimate, but I soon discovered it wasn’t. I did not want to part with any money, so I agreed that they keep my portfolio in exchange. The lodgings were fine from the outside, inside was a different picture altogether. It was in a nice part of the town, a leafy suburb, quiet and hidden away. There I met other girls, some could not even speak english, others ran away from a life of poverty, looking for their chance to earn serious money. An alternative to prostitution maybe.

I was given a name, a single word name that I would be identified by. The whole thing looked so dodgy, but I was so curious to know how the whole organisation worked. I had the option to leave at any time if I wanted to. However, the option had something attached which would scare me and others into keeping silent. Food was provided, delivered from a local take-away service. Washing and showering facilities were adequate. To some of the girls it was a safe haven, to others I soon realised it was a trap. They didn’t even know where they were or what to do to escape if they wanted to. I had entered the underworld of sex, controlled by someone far away. I knew the authorities would have a field day if they found out about this, but the consequences of reporting it were not worth thinking about.

What happened during those three weeks I will leave out the details for the reader to read between the lines. I resisted a lot of requests and watched as videos were being made. Observing was their idea of allowing us to warm to activities, hoping that we would simply jump in and take part based on our own personal experiences. Some did, and willingly, others like myself did not. I noticed how easy it was for them to do it. There were those who felt they had to do it, especially the foreign girls who I suspected were being forced to take part. It was pure pornography being acted out to satisfy them and the punters who eventually paid for it. This was part of an industry that many denied ever existed.

Every night I spoke to AJ on the phone. I didn’t reveal what I was doing or where I was. As far as he was concerned I was at home looking for employment. I was taking a keen interest in the other girls welfare like a self appointed social worker. I wanted to help them escape from the whole mess they had gotten themselves into, forgetting that I too was in that mess. I was prepared to stay with them for as long as I could. Atleast they were being fed and reasonably taken care of. Those that took part were rewarded by money and freedom to move around the town, holding them to a promise that they will return. Surprisingly enough, many of them did return.

My behaviour must have been suspicious after a while. Unlike some that had braved escape I stayed. Then one night I was moved to where they held their studio. More lectures of what I had to do. They said they wanted me to be filmed alone and I followed instructions. The next day I was exposed to total humiliation I will never forget. That was it, I had to escape. That kind of life was not what I was looking for. I felt dirty and regreted every moment. I prepared myself to keep it all hidden knowing that nobody in my family knew what I had experienced. However, since then I have recently confided with them so that I can atleast talk about some of it.

AJ was furious with what I did. He returned home from Sweden. I refused to give details not wanting any repercussions. We decided to settle down and get on with our lives. I found temporary work with a railway company, but hated every moment of it. I soon decided to take a foundation course and eventually university to study psychology. I discovered the internet and was intrigued by how it all worked, joining chat and writing short stories using my grandmothers name as my online name to hide my real name. It was fun and it opened up a new world of interest for me which eventually became part of my studies.
 
Continued...

Chapter Seven: A New Begining

AJ and I began to get our lives together, now trying to live as a couple, we persued our own careers. I found work as a temp in sales whilst waiting to join a university and he returned to his freelance photography to which he seemed happy with. I had problems recalling what I had seen recently. To be honest, I was having bad dreams frequently. I was supposed to be the one interested in psychology and yet AJ’s method of helping me cope was strange to say the least.

He and I both shared a sexual interest. We both enjoyed watching each other having sex and we began to make private videos that only we would share. Home movies. And in our spare time we spent hours making them and looking back at them. The experience was growing on me and we found ways of making them look more and more professional. A drive for personal perfection perhaps? However, that drive became anoying too. The stop and start scene changes and close ups turned us both into amateur performers, but the end results looked amazing to watch. I didn’t want this game we played to dominate our sex lives, so I eventually cooled it down a little. It could become obsessive to say the least.

After my short absence from the possy, I rejoined them. Jules had made the excuse that I was abroad for a short while and I had to sort the rumours out she had started. I was partially honest and told them that I was actually abroad with my new boyfriend. Things had developed in the possy. Pineapple was now a fully fledged social worker and the others, including Jules, had found employment, able to spend more on our wild nights out in the clubs around Manchester. Jules and I still met for our secret rendezvous of private moments, keeping our special relationship alive. I had to admit what I was doing to AJ and he was happy with that as long as I was. An amicable arrangement was agreed upon.

I noticed that Pineapple was not the person she normally was. It wasn’t work that was making her look ill, it was something more disasterous. Slowly she revealed something that was devastating. Her career had just began and she was seriously ill. They had discovered that she had a brain tumor and the therapy was making her weak. She was a fighter and kept on going no matter what. We loved and respected her even more for the things she was going through.

Jules was now beginning to accept AJ as my partner. The three of us spent more and more time together and AJ was loving it, moving towards something I would never dream of. I wanted us to be separate items in our relationships. However, Jules like AJ wanted to experiment. One night at dinner the questions poured out, leading me towards something I was very wary of.

“Have you ever had a threesome?” AJ asked her. I watched their conversation unfolding.

“Not really,” Jules replied. “Are you offering us the opportunity? I’m sure that we can carry this through if we all tried. It might be fun.” I was surprised and at the same time aroused by the suggestion. I had watched threesomes being played out on both movies and in real, wondering how exciting they could be. They initiated everything whilst I became the silent partner. We tried it and it was certainly an amazing experience. Even our private videos were getting involved, with Jules and AJ taking turns at holding the camera and then all three of us together having sex.

Within weeks of going through these sexual games I was slowly becoming worried about the eventual consequences. AJ and Jules admitted they did not love or feel anything for each other. It was purely sexual and I was their centre of attention and soon they grew jealous of each other which in a way was a good thing. It ended, and we returned to our old arrangements where all three of us were happy. But, AJ and I still looked back, watching the videos with a certain affection. It will always be beautiful to watch.

Foolishly there was also quite a lot of unprotected sex. I began to miss my periods and suspected that I was pregnant. We had not planned in having children, or marriage. I considered myself far too young to embark on a life of being tied down. I wanted a career. AJ was battling for custody of his own daughter in Holland which was proving very difficult for him, and I made him concentrate on this, finding solicitors to help him. I was not pregnant. Well not until a little later that is. I had discovered that I did have reproductive problems and other related problems. They were not as serious as I first thought. I was small not only in physical stature, but my genito-urinary system was still many years in size behind those of other women my age. So far I had not noticed any problems. My periods started when I was 11 years old like most girls, only I had developed a minature version so to speak. It turned out that they would eventually grow to normal size as the years went by with a little encouragement of my first pregnancy. Nature was certainly an amazing thing.

I started university and using the internet and I decided that internet psychology and criminology was to be my two main subjects for a thesis. I had a three year course to contend with and I began to enjoy it. There were sad times too. Money was becoming scarce and AJ needed to find something more stable. His trips to Holland to visit his daughter put a huge strain on our personal economy. I turned to my Dad for help and he did. This also caused problems with my trusted relationships with my mother and sister. They made me feel as if I was between both parties and I was used more and more like a messenger, hoping not to be shot by either side.

When I was 11 years old, Mum and Dad seperated. I went to live with my mother and brother and sister. Dad handed over his farming business to his brother and moved to partner a transport business in Sheffield and the peak district. Mum and the rest of us moved to one of Manchester’s outer suburbs where Mum was closer to her job. They never divorced. Mum was a devout Roman Catholic and divorce was seen as a terrible sin. Dad liked the seperation arrangement as it worked to an advantage for him for whatever reasons.

Soon after joining university not long after the horrid Twin Towers attack in the States, which will always be etched in my memory, I became pregnant. It was going to happen eventually and AJ was just as happy about it as I was. Our lives as a couple were now becoming well established.

In my opinion, pregnancy is one of the most wonderful conditions a woman can ever experience, despite the bodily changes which I readily accepred. It is surely a miracle of nature. You become two individuals for nine long months. The stresses and strains, the anxiety and the worries are all worth every second, providing that everything goes according to plan. However, I was going to be prone to certain problems which made worrying hard to escape from. At anytime the whole pregnancy could be aborted in the early months, and later the child could face certain risks of being born premature (as I was myself ).

I had to learn to relax. University was becoming harder to cope with, with all the daily travelling required. I had to find a way of getting by without causing too much disruption to my life. I was even sleeping more through fatige. I decided to switch from attending university to letting the university come to me, which would be an advantage later on in rearing my baby.

When you are pregnant, certain woman develop habits and cravings. One of my sexual cravings was for oral sex. I wanted AJ to bring me off using his tongue on my clit which developed into an habitual fetish coupled with something else which he loved. Because I feared the consequences of intercourse, I grew more and more desperate for his cock by caressing it and bringing him to his climax. I insisted on it being done in a certain way. It was probably cruel to him, yet worthwhile. And he delivered what I needed everytime.

AJ is a big man regarding his cock. It is in my opinion gorgeous and so hard when he is aroused. It stands to attention and it is straight and perfect without any bends which made it lean to either side. His ball sack is so profound and soft. And, the big bonus - he can ejaculate in copious amounts. I suppose many men would regard themselves as being gifted? The girth and length is just right and reasonably comfortable and he is uncut. However, he never produces pre-cum like most guys I had experienced before him. The way he came was totally amazing.

I insisted that he wait for days. No masturbation. I wanted maximum loads. Then I would insist he showered and wear the aftershave I loved so much. All I wanted him to wear was his tight denim jeans so that I could see and feel the outline of his manhood beneath the material. He was always hard when playing our kinky game. First I would let him suck my clit, as I felt him next to me. No fingers, just tongue and lips. Afterwards, I would stand him next to me and slowly expose his cock in my own time. This made him react getting him so excited and if I moved too fast he would cum far too soon. I wanted to savour his cock, taste it, feel it on the tip of my tongue and in my delicate fingers. I did not suck him. I just teased him until I could see his expression and hear his moans which told me he was on the brink. I knew when he was cumming by his shudders as he held his breath and then it happened. Often, the first load would shoot out at amazing speed followed by lots of smaller spurts. I loved the feel of it on my fingers and on my skin wherever it landed on my body. Sticky and so creamy thick. Sometimes I would swallow it, tasting its spicy saltiness and feeling its texture run down my throat. There is also another bonus to giving him oral sex or hand relief. As he began to relax and slowly recover he could shoot a final load by making his muscles spasm. Before I learned about it, it often took me by surprise. It is just as powerful as his first spurt, but more liquid and foamier than the previous loads. Maybe this is his pre-cum, only saved up until the end?

I love the feel and taste of man-cum and AJ certainly had enough to satisfy me. I also sneakily used it to tell whether he had masturbated or not. If he was desperate, then I would always oblige without hesitation. I was intrigued by male orgasms and why they were different than ours. I could let my orgasms ride out one after the other. Men usually only came once in an explosion of spunk, followed by instant relaxation and eventual flacidness. In my opinion nature was being a little cruel until I learned the natural reasons why. Men had to fuck and run to survive. We didn’t. Thank heavens for fingers when we needed that little bit more.

Shared sex during pregnancy did get less for my own personal satisfaction of achieving orgasm. Towards the later stages I would often masturbate alone if I felt I needed to. The associated problems became more and more obvious. The worrying stages had begun and everyday I carried my child to the end of term. It was to be a relief. She was growing inside of me, making use of what little space I had to provide. She hung on to a safe date to deliver and atleast she was healthy. However, I required surgery to repair the damages which were inevitable. And another amazing bonus for AJ and I – she was born just one day before his own birthdate. Cool timing.

I was not going to let them steal away my goal because of my condition. Whilst they prepared me for surgery I was able to hold my baby. That all important first contact of mother and child. The first feed and the spiritual awareness of completing nine months of pregnancy. The debate was still raging on whether or not I should be steralised for health reasons. AJ took care of it all and fought from my corner. The consultant spared me my natural right to have more children – with the obvious risks, which I was prepared to take from then on. The intricate keyhole surgery patched up the damage succesfully and I was advised to wait four or five years before even attempting to have more children. I could wait. I had patience.
 
Thank you for sharing Sienna. A beautiful tale, well written!

Hi Daniel :) :kiss:... Welcome back...

They were written in 2007, intended to be submitted as a true life story, but unfortunately rejected because of some of it's content involving my teenage years. I can now understand why. However, it is a biography that needed to be told to know where I was coming from as one of LITS members/authors.
 
A Story To Be Told

My biographical diary...

The final chapter...

Chapter Eight: A human condition

AJ’s case to take custody of his estranged daughter stepped up. We had two solicitors working on the case. One in the UK and one in Holland. His ex wife was prepared to fight as our case strengthened. There was however one weakness against us; AJ and I were not married and through religious considerations I still refused his hand. He had to convert totally to my denomination before I even thought about it. Living together as a couple suited me fine, and I was happy. We were both happy. And so the case centred on discrediting his ex wife’s life style and how harmful it was for a six year old child to be in such a disruptive and corupted environment. AJ was still freelance in his work and had to make regular journeys to Amsterdam. I needed to help him improve his social status and I discovered something that he had never revealed to me before – his qualifications.

With help from Dad, I put together AJ’s curriculum vitae. I encouraged AJ to re-build his confidence in becoming the architect he was supposed to be. Stable and respected employment was what he needed. His excuse of being away from that kind of work for a long time was not acceptable. And soon the interviews built up one after the other, which in itself gave him the confidence he needed. Slowly over the months he was being primed to take on a career, to escape the unreliable business of freelance photography, taking wedding pictures and assisting models to enhance their chances of an unreliable future. It seemed pointless to me for obvious reasons.

Our own daughter was now growing into a healthy child. I was able to return to my normal physique, to study and raise her and continue to play the devoted mother, student and housewife. I was enjoying what I was doing and soon realised that this role in my life was simply natural to me. I wanted more children, and I was prepared to wait. I also wanted a career as a criminologist and possibly a writer too. I had so many ambitions and lots of time to persue them ahead of me.

Jules in the meantime had found a lover, a boyfriend and made surprising plans to get married. We still loved each other, but we hardly saw each other on a regular basis. Our lives were changing direction and my bi-sexual desires were placed at the back of my mind or confined to fantasies. Probably what most women committed to other important things like me often did. I wanted Jules badly, but it was a no-go-area for a while. I missed the empathic intimacy and the fun we used to share. Just friends going in our different directions and only meeting once in a while at the clubs when the possy gathered together.

Pineapple was becoming rare at attending those clubbing sessions. Her health had taken a turn for the worst. The therapy was failing and becoming pointless. Slowly our most respected best friend was dying so tragically. It made me more aware of cancer and how important it was to support the much needed research required to fight it as Pineapple did with amazing strength. She worked as a social worker for as long as she could and within a few days of giving up her job, we had lost her. Her death was expected, yet it hit all of us like a devastating bolt from heaven. It was enough to make you lose your faith. But I still felt strong about it despite my sins and my prayers helped to heal me both emotionally and physically in many many ways. My thoughts will always be with Pineapple. A part of her will forever remain in my heart for all the help and advice she gave me. For the first time in my life a death of a loved one had touched me. There are many yet to experience as life goes on.

My grandmother, the original Sienna Maria, was born in Italy. During the years that I knew her she apparently lived alone in Nottingham. An eccentric lady who valued her privacy. We only got to see her at Christmas or during rare visits to her house during most of my childhood, and as I grew older I began to visit her more often because we had established a unique bond over her later years. And one day whilst AJ and I visited over a weekend to present her with her great grandchild, she told me her story, her history and now my history, confirming everything that my mother had told me in brief. She handed me audio tapes that she had recorded and told me; “You are a beautiful writer and I want you to have my story as I know you can put it into nice words one day.” Her english wasn’t good despite the number of years she had lived in the UK.

Grandpa Leo and Sienna arrived in the UK in 1947. They had a choice. It was either England or the USA and so their lives together were spent here in England. I never saw my grandpa as he died just two years after my mother was born with a related illness caused by mercury poisoning. Together they had managed to raise their seven daughters (mother being the youngest), finding work where ever they could. Grandpa finally became a hatter and during the late 1950’s they settled in Bamford, Derbyshire. Out of seven children, only two remained in the UK. The others migrated one by one to the USA to find new lives and obviously husbands. To this day we only have vague contact with the third youngest, Louisa, now living in New Jersey with her family. The tapes partly revealed the many reasons why they had scattered and lost contact.

One thing I did not know during those visits to grandma was her illness as she kept it a secret between my mother and aunt. Her time was limited and not long after AJ and I with the baby visited her, she became very ill. She had developed a kind of leukaemia and over the years foolishly refused most of the treatment offered to her. Saddly, later that year she passed away peacefully. She was the second loved one to die on me, and I seriously began to think about life in general. Instantly I had the tapes converted to disc and began to research my grand parents past.

I found a curious link on my fathers side. I never knew my grand parents on his side of the family, only one great aunt, who is still alive as I write this diary. There is a rumour that we are related to the author D.H.Lawrence which is still to be proven. Another rumour states he was just a close family friend. Lawrence, funnily enough is one of my favourite authors and one day I will trace any link if there is one. Dad already gave me an original copy of Lawrence’s “Sons And Lovers” that was handed down from where knows when, signed by Lawrence himself.

It is my intention to atleast try to write my first novel one day. At the moment I am following the advice of a publisher who rejected my novella “April Rising”. I now realise that it wasn’t that good and I do need to find my style. I don’t think that I will beome a professional writer somehow. My interests lie in the forensic sciences as well as psychology. My qualifications in psychology are just a starter for further studies I intend to do. Criminology, history and archaeology are just three main interests I have always had.

During my childhood, my mother used to take me on archaeological digs. It was her hobby, and she had studied history, social science and politics. That tied in with my interests in forensic science. Because when I was ten years old I was deeply involved in one particular dig that I shall never forget. It was a team of archeologists from Sheffield university that my mother volunteered working with during the summer that year. They were trying to piece together a mysterious mass grave. The grave was near Chesterfield dating over 500 years ago. The grave contained fifteen remains of human bodies from ages four onwards. Later they discovered that they were a family and their mass burial remains a mystery to this day. One theory points to the fact that they may have been victims of a witch hunt.

When my mother seperated from my father, she persued her career in what I call politics more than anything else. She became a civil servant working for a local authority. I will admit that the job she had taken on gave her confidence, yet I feel it also changed her personality. She became more strict in her general outlook on life and views, starting with my conversion from methodist to roman catholic. Something I didn’t mind because I feel that my mothers religion is important and I value it very much today, despite the fact that I am probably one of the worlds most sinful people you would ever wish to meet. Confession is a way of getting forgiveness and I thank heaven for its existance.

Sex to me is addictive. I love it. Again, despite the things I have seen in my recent past, I think my attitude towards sex probably softened the despair. Discovering that you are bi-sexual added spice to the whole thing. I believe that if you feel that way then you should exploit it to its fullest advantage wherever possible. I respect other women greatly. I know most do have a natural curiosity and tendancy to experiment with their own gender, yet I never force myself upon them. I allow them to come to me first if they want to share their feelings emotionally or even physically.

Eventually Jules got married. It was a simple, quick and easy jaunt to the registry office and the occasion was over in a matter of minutes. The evening party was themed on her family’s Irish routes and I admit, I hardly remember anything about it. Someone spiked my coke with whiskey and after a few dances I passed out, being tucked nicely into the corner of the pub for the rest of the event. Her husband was nothing special, although he acted suspiciously nice at first. I knew that he had ulterior motives of controlling her life and slowly he shown out his true colours. Jules was pregnant two months before her wedding and it was unplanned. Her husband regretted it and once little Jordan was born he left everything to Jules to cope with.

Her husband revealed a life of crime in his past and once they moved to a very rough area of Manchester his criminal life continued. Jules returned to taking drugs, Jordan was in danger of being neglected and I hated the situation she was getting into. Their lives suddenly became in danger as her husband dealt with really bad people. Quite often she would call me in the early hours of the morning telling me that her home had been trashed by gansters or even the police searching for reasons to arrest. I needed to get them both safe somewhere, but she was reluctant to accept my offer of help.

She began to look gaunt and ill everytime I visited her. It was so painfully emotional to see one of the people you love so much suffering the way she was. Once she had taken a few snorts of the evil powder she could then cope, for just a short while. I continued to plead with her to escape to a better life with her son. I could do it, I had good contacts who could help them both. AJ tried to talk her into accepting our help, but she was scared of the man she married and the evil life he was now leading.

One day I visited her. In the lounge was a collection of guns waiting to be collected by some of her husbands clients. She had bruises on her body where she was beaten up. Atleast Jordan wasn’t touched by violence physically, but he was living in a violent environment. That was my limit, I could not take anymore of the way they were living. I called the Catholic Refuge and arranged for them to be admitted in a mother and baby establishment. I packed their suitcases in fear of being caught by her husband, who would surely violently retaliate, and I drove them away to a safer place, knowing that the nuns would take care of them from that moment on.

Every few days I would visit her and Jordan, keeping myself updated with their progress. Slowly Jules was weaned from her drug addiction which took months to achieve. She returned to taking mass regularly and realising the mistakes she had made in her recent past. I could see the lover I once knew coming back slowly, the way I knew her once, but not entirely. The drug addiction and violence had left its marks. She was still in fear of her husband returning to beat her up, even kill her, although he had been arrested, trialed and put in prison in the meantime.
 
Epilogue: 2011

What you have read was my life up to 2007 :)

Today, I have another beautiful daughter, Rachel and TRT (AJ), who is a recognised architectural engineer and no longer a freelance photographer. He is transformed over the years since we had met. WE now have custody over his daughter making three children in all. We are happy together and we married :)

I have become a business person, working in what was a family business until it recently became a PLC, (which just means I am a trusted member of it's management team). I love the work I do and like TRT, I found my niche in life.

The business is "risky" like all businesses, but atleast WE are legal.

With Gods help our lives will continue to flourish :)

By the way, my hosting at arranged parties continued until TRT and I married and became less and less frequent. They were never really the same without Jules and became less fun...

Enough said... on with the fun on LIT and 10 years being on here ;)


But, for now... it's time to sleep until next time ;)

Have fun everyone. I love you all :kiss::rose:
 
Last edited:
Epilogue: 2011

What you have read was my life up to 2007 :)

Today, I have another beautiful daughter, Rachel and TRT (AJ), who is a recognised architectural engineer and no longer a freelance photographer. He is transformed over the years since we had met. WE now have custody over his daughter making three children in all. We are happy together and we married :)

I have become a business person, working in what was a family business until it recently became a PLC, (which just means I am a trusted member of it's management team). I love the work I do and like TRT, I found my niche in life.

The business is "risky" like all businesses, but atleast WE are legal.

With Gods help our lives will continue to flourish :)

Enough said... on with the fun on LIT and 10 years being on here ;)


But, for now... it's time to sleep until next time ;)

Have fun everyone. I love you all :kiss::rose:

TRT is an architectural engineer?! So am I! Well, I'm going to become a structural engineer. That is very ironic. So let's see, TRT and I both adore you completely, same profession, similar views upon love making (sans anal play)...besides age difference, we are basically the same person :)
 
I have been out of town and am just catching up. I started with the final chapter. I will find Chapter one and start over.

Your writing is excellent and your story is fascinating.
 
TRT is an architectural engineer?! So am I! Well, I'm going to become a structural engineer. That is very ironic. So let's see, TRT and I both adore you completely, same profession, similar views upon love making (sans anal play)...besides age difference, we are basically the same person...
===============================================

WOW!!!!!...What an incredible blowjob!!!
I have been out of town and am just catching up. I started with the final chapter. I will find Chapter one and start over.
Your writing is excellent and your story is fascinating.
===============================================

:D:D @ incredible blowjob :D:D

The story is a true life biography prop written up to 2007 ;) It first apeared in this thread on October 2007.

Well MrBrett, it looks like you and TRT could be "soul mates" afterall ;) :kiss:
 
http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee207/mary_kiduxinha/Dance.gifhttp://www.groovy-layouts.com/Images/Fun/Dancing/images/Just-Like-to-Dance.gif

Sienna's Chill-Out Corner:

Pure Joy~DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FAemT5Zi5A
The Blues~DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgAO...ext=1&list=MLGxdCwVVULXcNcPhKvw9xxdvoQ8biIBqq
Mystical~ DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnST...st=MLGxdCwVVULXcNcPhKvw9xxdvoQ8biIBqq&index=3
Summer Memories~ DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agy8...VULXcNcPhKvw9xxdvoQ8biIBqq&index=4&playnext=1
Genesis~ DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KADC...VULXcNcPhKvw9xxdvoQ8biIBqq&index=5&playnext=2
The Call~ DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huu6...VULXcNcPhKvw9xxdvoQ8biIBqq&index=6&playnext=3
You & Me ~ DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpDO...VULXcNcPhKvw9xxdvoQ8biIBqq&index=7&playnext=4
Grease~ DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOGt...VULXcNcPhKvw9xxdvoQ8biIBqq&index=8&playnext=5
DaB's Special Edition~ DaBhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsQO...VULXcNcPhKvw9xxdvoQ8biIBqq&index=9&playnext=6

Walking On Air~ Jose Padilla
Beyond My Imagination ~ Jazz Vandall
World Colours ~ Mahoroba
Curtain Call ~ Aya
Show Me Love ~ Hed Kandi
Breathe You In ~ Samantha James
Moments In Love~ Art Of Noise
A View From The Sky~ Derek Sherenian
In The Waiting Line - instrumental~ Zero 7
Right Now~ Samantha James
Moonlight Shadow~ Mike Oldfield (club mix version)


The Moment~ Vargo
Get Back To Serenity~ Vargo
Relax~ Blank & Jones ft Vargo
Silence~ Vargo
Talking One Laguage~ Vargo


*****************************************************
Sienna's Smooth Jazz Corner:

A View From Above~ Dave Koz
Emily~ Dave Koz
Together Again~ Dave Koz

Baby Come To Me~ George Howard
Love Will Find A Way~ George Howard
Love Will Conquer All~ George Howard

Tropical Rain~ Jessy J
Tequilla Moon~ Jessy J
One True Love~ Jessy J

That's The Way Love Goes ~ Norman Brown
Feel Like Making Love ~ Bob James
Everybody's Beautiful (In Brazil) ~ Bob Baldwin
Sara Smile~ Nils
What's Going On ~ Peter White
Don't Say Goodnight~ Maysa
Always And Forever~ Luther Vandross
Summer Breeze~ Isley Brothers

Manhattan ~ Gregg Karukas
Welcome Home~ Gregg Karukas
Azure Dreaming ~ Gregg Karukas
Your Sweet Smile~ Gregg Karukas
Floating In Bahia~ Gregg Karukas
Always~ Gregg Karukas
Simone~ Gregg Karukas
Too Cool To Be Hot~ Gregg Karakus
Corner Club~ Gregg Karakus
Soul Kisses~ Gregg Karukas

Lady~ George Benson
White Club Harlem~ Rick Braun & Peter White
More Than You Know ~ Rick Braun & Boney James
Kisses In The Rain~ Rick Braun & Peter White
After The Rain~ Boney James
Restless ~ Bob James & Andy Snitzer
Westchester Lady ~ Bob James

*****************************************************
Sienna's Pop Music Corner

LMFAO ~ Party Rock Anthem
Born This Way~ Lady Gaga
Raise Your Glass~ P!nk
Love The Way You Lie~ Eminem & Rihanna
Teenage Dream ~ Katy Perry
Mine~ Taylor Swift
On The Floor~ Jennifer Lopez ft. Pitbull (UK No.1)
Te Amo~ Rihanna
 
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