Sati Marie Frost’s Reviews > Bedtime Erotica for Freaks > Status Update

Antonia was a delight. I love the way she slides up and down the sexuality scales. If it feels good, she does it. I wish I were that confident.

Ah, Nectar was brilliant. Hot, a little twisted, and brilliantly funny. Plus her kinks match - or at least tone - with my own, so while I didn't learn as much, I found it the most arousing tale so far.

Nectar is killing me, particularly when she mentions meeting a guy on the 453 bus. I have also found this a good place to meet men, albeit probably not quite as freaky as Nectar's guys. Reading these stories is like being home again.

Indra was a vicious bitch, and I hated her sense of entitlement. That said, I found the fisting scenes both entertaining and educational.

I wasn't really a fan of Geraldine, although it's always interesting to read stories about non-mainstream sexuality. I think hearing that Geraldine had stolen £2M put me off her from the start, and that initial impression made it difficult to warm to her. The dishonesty in her relationship with Tiffany bugged me, too.

I liked Amanda a whole lot more than Vanessa. Although her Superbitch / Katwoman personality initially rubbed me wrong, I did get used to it, and found out-of-costume Amanda very easy to sympathise with. And the Freaknight thing was both outrageous and hilarious. I liked Jeremy a lot, too - he seemed like a really decent guy.

That all said, I started to enjoy the tale - and to some extent Vanessa's character - around the point where she had sex with Michael at his flat. And I really enjoyed where the story went after that - her reaction to Lester's porn scheme had me creasing up with laughter while I rooted for her. So I'm on the fence with this one.

Undecided how I feel about Vanessa. I started out really disliking Vanessa herself - I found her thoughts about the men's small cocks to be unnecessarily mean, and the idea that men date outside their race - any race - only because they don't understand the gloriousness of their own women is one that's always grated on me when it comes up. (And working in a youth centre in East London, it comes up a LOT.)