Room 2D

Dear Editor, At times your magazine is really fantastic. Some of the photography is wonderful and your writers do have a sexy edge still (not that we like a lot of articles, we prefer photos). Six of us, in Cardiff, have joined together to buy all your productions; it’s the way we can afford them all. You are still producing a classic in and out, but I’m sure you have noticed how your rivals are copying and even now at times outdoing you. We only buy a different mag occasionally to see if their standard is worth it. We’ve enclosed one of your rivals’ pictures. We’re sure you’ll have seen the set. It’s not the best but that’s because they do what you do; print the best back to back. It’s very frustrating for cutting out. We keep a scrap book, you see, of the best set from each magazine you put out. Look — in the accompanying photo the girls are perfectly posed, vulnerable, available; it’s easy to add the restraints. Please Blushes , you are still the best but don’t be overtake...

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Story from Blushes 58 Mr Minley’s car crunched up the leaf-strewn gravel drive between trees and shrubs resplendent in their autumn reds and browns and golds. The house came into sight against the crisp blue sky. It looked as big as Mr Minley’s own house but more shabby, dilapidated. And the lawn at the side was uncut, resembling a meadow almost and also liberally covered with more fallen leaves. Quite unlike Mr Minley’s immaculate sward. This place is probably falling apart,’ he observed as he pulled up before the house. ‘And that fellow doesn’t seem to be here yet. Anyway let’s have a look.’ His hand squeezed Susan’s thigh. Susan followed him out. On this warm September morning the delectable Susan was wearing a white sleeveless top and full, calf-length pink skirt with large white buttons down the front, plus white high heels. She had nothing underneath, no underwear. On Mr Minley’s instruction of course. Sometimes she was ...

Here is the second batch of Paula Meadows covers from Fessée magazine. Issue 5: Oh I say! That ballboy is finding it hard to do his job, I imagine. Female tennis players do have such wonderfully toned legs and buttocks. This must represent the fantasy of many a young lad watching Wimbledon. Issue 6: What a look on her face — whatever is about to happen is most definitely consensual — but what a shock the dog walker is about to get! Issue 7: A medieval wedding night perhaps. This damsel certainly looks up for it, and who placed the whip on the chair ready for action — him or her? Issue 8: Oh, hello! I come back from work early and what do I find you reading in the back garden when I get home? We might have to put some of those pictures into practice.

Story from Roué 23. Could this possibly be a sighting of   Verushka Granchova who we saw in Under the Hammer  in Janus, and  Comrade Verushka ,  Isolation Wing  and  The Unseen Eye  in Blushes Supplement? A room. A bed with a white coverlet turned neatly back, bed-linen crisp, pillow plump. Varnished floorboards, slippery under the rug, a blind at the window pulled partway down, institutional green. An institutional room. A photograph in a plain frame on a cabinet beside the bed, a girl smiling at the camera. Books on a desk, clothes in an open wardrobe, an upright wooden chair. A pair of knickers turned half inside-out, forsaken on the shiny floor. The door is ajar, and beyond is a corridor. Outside this room a girl leans her back and her bottom against the wall, long legs propping her at an angle, one knee slightly overlapping the other so that her air of waiting has a suggest...