I awaken the S&M in me every Tuesday night. Unfortunately, I play both Master and Servant and the act usually takes place while I am fully clothed. My instrument of torture? The micro-needle roller (the generic hence, cheaper, version of the famed dermaroller).
Many of my girlfriends hesitate to buy one for themselves and insist on allowing only their facialist to apply it in a session. The reason? The facialist earnestly warns them that only a professional should roll as you may risk injury. This is utter nonsense! No one knows you better than you eh? Personally, I know my pain threshold is high and so I push my micro-needle roller deep into my skin with rhythmic thrusts and strokes (that’s right ladies, you must GET INTO it for results)… Continue reading →
Once upon a time, I had lunch with an elegant old man. He was a Count – born of an illustrious family and habituated to the company of beautiful woman. He was a connoisseur of femininity and over a fine lunch in a small restaurant on the left bank of Paris he told me that in the age of plastic surgery and Botox he had one sure-fire way of telling a woman’s age. Her knees.