Monday, 19 August 2013

Guest Blog by Kathryn Bittersplit Edited and Proofread by Francis Potts. Scarlett an excerpt from Kathryn's WIP Agoraphobia for Girls

Most of us have had the hots for a straight woman at least once, and mostly it ends in tears, or desperately rubbing one out under the shower. Sometimes it ends in desperately rubbing one out under the shower and crying like an abandoned baby. You get the picture.
I fell for Scarlett. It was a little unusual, because we’d seen each other naked before we even exchanged a hello, but we went to the same gym. She wasn’t skinny like a lot of the women who go to the gym, or fat, like the ones who join up and hope they’ll lose weight and then give up when they find it’s hard work. I guessed her to be a size fourteen, five foot seven, C cup. I loved her auburn hair, and I absolutely adored her back, so I watched her as she changed. She was a lot more discreet than me, and always turned her gorgeous back to the changing room before she took off her tee shirt and shorts, and she wrapped a towel around herself before she headed to the showers. However, I have a thing about backs. I love having my back kissed, and I love kissing other women’s backs. I like a lot of the other things that women can do with women, also, but I like to start with backs. Fronts and cunts can come later. Literally, if I do it right.
Step one, I made contact. I waited until she’d taken off her sweaty gym clothes, and she was reaching for the towel. I’d taken an earring out, and I flicked it surreptitiously across the floor, hoping it would come to rest near her feet. It worked even better than I’d expected, and it actually bounced off the side of her foot. She noticed, looked around, and I was beside her before she realised that she hadn’t wrapped the towel around herself.
“Sorry. I just dropped an earring. I think it rolled over here somewhere.”
We crouched down together, and I waited until she picked it up, so that I could touch her hand when she passed it to me.
“Thanks.” We stood up. I stared deliberately at her tits, and then at her face. “I’m Cat. Hi.”
As if she’d suddenly realised she was naked, she wrapped the towel around herself before she answered. “Scarlett.” She held out a hand for me to shake.
I held on to it for longer than would be normal, to make sure she got the message. I knew she was straight, and I didn’t want her to have any illusions about me. “Pleased to meet you, Scarlett. Hot name, also.”
She looked a little embarrassed. “Yes. Thanks.”
I let her go. Cue rubbing one out under the shower, but definitely no tears.
Step two. Homework. I left before her and hung around to see where she went. She walked across the car park to a black car and drove away. I wrote down the number. Next time, I waited on the far side of the car park until I saw her arrive, and I parked beside her, as if I’d just arrived myself.
“Scarlett. Hi.” I was half a step behind her, but I didn’t think I appeared over eager.
“Oh. Hi Cat.”
“I hope we didn’t get off on the wrong foot the other day. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
She smiled. “It’s okay. It’s just that I don’t bat for the other side.”
I smiled back. “I only bat for the same side. It sounds like we have a lot in common.”
It made her laugh. “That wasn’t quite what I meant, but never mind.”
I held the door open for her, and when she hesitated, I said, “I’m not going to pinch your bottom, or anything. Go on. After you.” I wouldn’t have minded. She was one of the ones who turned up in their gym clothes, and her arse in the clingy shorts looked great.
Afterwards, I didn’t rub one out in the shower, not because I wasn’t hot for her, but because I wanted to be able to walk back to the cars with her, and talk. She told me she was a nurse, and an aspiring author.
“That sounds interesting. Maybe we could meet for a coffee sometime, and you could tell me more.” I thought it was a long shot, but it worked.
“Yes, that would be nice. Shall I give you my phone number? Then we can sort something out.”
My brain said, “Yessss! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck. Yes!” I said, “Good idea. Just a minute.”
I keyed her number into my phone, and she even kissed me on the cheek before she got into her car.
I drove home as quickly as I could, and didn’t get anywhere near the shower. I just unzipped my jeans and squatted down in the hallway, with my back against the door. I didn’t even have to rub, which was just as well, because my jeans were a little tight, and I couldn’t reach much beyond my clit. It didn’t matter. I was wet anyway, and I scarcely had to touch myself before I came.
The second one took slightly longer. I took my jeans and my knickers off. The jeans were a bit damp, and the knickers downright sopping, but it’d wash out. I squatted down again and took my time, trying to imagine Scarlett’s less experienced fingers in there, exploring the slippery folds. Inevitably, my practised fingers took over, so I imagined fingering Scarlett’s wet cunt instead, and I came again, burying my face in my shoulder to muffle my squawks of pleasure.
I was on a roll, and I’d have gone for a third one, only the postman shoved some stuff through the letter box next to my ear, bringing me back to reality. I gathered up the post with sticky fingers, dumped it on the kitchen table, and rubbed out the third one in the shower. Normal service resumed.
And there was Scarlett’s phone number. Every hour or so I’d look at it, and think of calling, and every time I just ended up looking at it until the backlight went out. That went on for three days, and then I saw her in Morrison’s.
“Hi Cat. I thought you were going to call.”
“Yeah. I was. But I thought you’d think I was trying to pick you up, so I got cold feet every time. I’d rather be your friend than nothing.” Friend and nothing were numbers two and last on my shopping list, behind kissing her beautiful back.
She laughed. “It’s okay. I like to think I can look after myself. Are you in a hurry now, or do you fancy a coffee and a chat?”
I wasn’t in a hurry, but I’d have happily postponed my wedding for coffee and a chat with her, if I were straight, and getting married. Which I wasn’t, obviously. “Sounds good.”
We went to an Italian place up the road. She had a latte, and I had a double espresso. It wasn’t busy, and while I didn’t expect anything too much from the chat part, I’d prefer not to be eavesdropped on.
“Are you really a writer?” I asked. We’d sat down and hadn’t said much.
“Yes. I’m working at it.”
“Sounds interesting. What do you write?”
“Paranormal steampunk erotica.”
I had a vague idea what the first one might be, not a clue about the second, but the third one was right up Goldilocks’s street. “That sounds even more interesting. Where can I read this erotica?”
She looked a little embarrassed, and her hair fell over her face. “At the moment, only on my blog.”
If I’d been closer, I’d have pushed her hair back, but across the table it would have looked a bit obvious. Besides, her hair was almost as beautiful as her face. “Men with big knobs and insatiable appetites? That kind of thing?”
She nodded and smiled. “I’m afraid so.”
“No girl on girl?”
Her smile broadened to a grin. “Not yet. Maybe you could advise me.”
“I thought you batted for the other team. Wasn’t that what you said?”
She appeared momentarily confused. “No. I don’t bat for the other team.” Then she realised, and laughed. “I see what you mean. It doesn’t matter.”
Time for a toe in the water. “What is it about girl on girl?” I asked. “You’re not interested, but you want me to advise you.”
“Lots of blokes think it’s sexy. The idea of two girls together.”
“Lots of blokes are generally wrong, but in this case, they’re spot on. Why not you?”
“It’s a bit creepy.”
I shrugged, trying to play nonchalant. “If you had your back to me, and I kissed it, how would you know it wasn’t a bloke who’d shaved particularly carefully?”
“I just would.”
I let it go. No point in spoiling something by pushing in too many fingers to start with. I could rub one out under the shower when I went home. “Yeah. You might.” When I sipped my coffee, it was going cold. I’d had other things on my mind.
“Why would you want to kiss my back, anyway?”
Gobsmacked. Just when I thought the game was over for the day, she picked up the ball and handed it to me. I tried to do a Lady Di, looking out from under coy eyelids. “Because it’s beautiful.”
She dipped a fingertip in the froth on her coffee, and I realised she hadn’t been drinking hers, either. “Just my back?”
My turn to grin. “Depends. The rest of you is beautiful, not just your back. I want to kiss the rest of you, not just your back. But I would be happy to kiss just your back. Which question were you asking?”
She smiled, and sucked her finger, making me go gooey inside. “The last one. If I let you kiss my back, would that be all?”
Fuck. “If that was as close as I could get, yes. If that was all you wanted, yes. Do I strike you as a rapist?”
“Do you want me to kiss your back?”
“I don’t know. Part of me is curious. Men are mostly interested in what’s round the front. I can’t remember any of them paying special attention to my back unless they were undoing my bra. The rest of me is scared shitless.” She hesitated and looked me in the eye. “And slightly disgusted. Sorry.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’d feel the same about your men with big knobs. Not so much of the ‘slightly’, either.”
“Can I think about it?”
Fuck, yes. Especially if you decide to give it a try. “Of course.”
“Can I call you?”
Panic. “Have you got my number?”
“I think so.” She checked her phone. She hadn’t. I called her, and then she did. “Thanks.”
We finished our coffees, I wiped the froth off her upper lip, and we kissed each other’s cheeks. She reached behind my back when we were kissing cheeks, and it was all I could do not to crush her body to mine.
The temptation to head for the shower when I got home was enormous, but I didn’t even squat behind the front door. However, I did take my jeans off, and I poured myself a stiff gin and French. As I drank it, I fondled my cunt. I wasn’t trying to come, I was just thinking of Scarlett’s back. Mostly her back. I still remembered looking at her tits in the changing room. She had beautiful hair, also. I spilt my drink when my phone rang, and when I saw that it was Scarlett, my attempt at putting the glass down tipped what was left onto the carpet. “Fuck.” Two deep breaths, and I pressed the talk button. “Hi.”
“Yeah.” I fought the temptation to say ‘pussy’.
“I’m game. You can kiss my back.”
Fuck. Another deep breath. “Brilliant. Your place or mine.” I tried to make it sound like a joke.
“I’ve had a drink. How about mine?”
“As soon as. Before I sober up and have second thoughts.”
“Tell me where you are, and I’m on my way.” It was mostly true. I cleaned myself up with a wetwipe first, dumped some kitchen paper on the carpet, and put on a dry pair of knickers. Wishing I hadn’t had the gin and French, I rang for a taxi, and put my jeans on while I was waiting for it.
Five minutes never went so slowly, and traffic never seemed so bad, but I behaved, and my hands remained chastely in my lap while I tried to picture where Scarlett lived. I visualised a stylish apartment, mostly white, like something from a 1970s pop video. It didn’t matter that I was wrong, Scarlett was at the door of the terraced house when it opened. I so wanted to kiss her mouth, but I managed to find her cheek instead. I even managed not to say, “Fuck. I love you.” Instead, I said, “Scarlett. Hi.”
“Come in.”
Her house was probably about the same size as my flat, but with more rooms, over two floors, so it felt a bit poky. She was wearing jeans and a pale blue pullover, and I could see the outline of a sensible looking bra underneath. No big deal. If I had to, I could work around the straps.
She led me through to a sitting room. There was a half full bottle of red wine and an empty glass on the coffee table. “I’m afraid I had a couple of glasses of wine. Dutch courage, I suppose.”
“I had a gin and French. I thought I was drowning my sorrows.”
“You might have been. I nearly didn’t call. I still can’t believe I’m doing this.”
I couldn’t, either, but I was sure I was awake. “It’s okay. I think you’re very brave. If you were a man, there’s no way I’d be here.”
“Do I just take my pullover off, or what?”
I nodded. “Unless you want me to take it off for you.”
A hint of a smile. “Thanks, but I can manage.” She turned away from me before she caught hold of the hem and pulled the pullover off over her head. She threw it on the sofa and stood with her back to me, arms by her sides. “Okay. Do your worst.”
I rested my hand on her upper arm. “That bad, eh?”
“Scared shitless.”
“I’ll be gentle.” Leaning forward, I planted a light kiss on the top of her right shoulder, dragging a bit before I broke contact. Her skin was soft, and she smelt nice. “Okay so far?”
She laughed. “Yes. Quite pleasant, but hardly earth shattering.”
I went for a spot near her spine, a couple of inches above the catch on her bra strap, and sucked a bit. “Still okay?”
“Yes. That’s a bit sexier.”
I stopped asking, and got on with it, holding her beautiful hair out of the way as I worked my way up to the back of her neck. When I felt her head twist and tip, like a cat being stroked behind its ear, I knew I was getting it right. Mouthing my way back down, I headed out along the top of her shoulder, slipping the shoulder strap of her bra aside so that I could kiss the red crease it left in her skin.
After a slight intake of breath, she whispered, “God. That’s fantastic.”
Slipping the other strap down, I repeated the kiss on the other side, following the crease down as far as I could.
Scarlett reached behind her back to unclip her bra. “This is in the way. I’ll take it off.”
Fuck. Stuff of fantasy. My lips were on the rectangular dent where the felt behind the catch had been, before the bra was even off the ends of her arms. I took my time, but I knew where my kisses were going to end up, round the side of her rib cage, where the strap had been thinking about becoming a cup, and the marks of the seams curled around the swelling flesh at the side of her boob. Placing my hand as a marker just below my mouth, I worked my way back to the other side. She lifted her arm out of the way, and I could probably have carried on and kissed my way onto her tit. Instead, I slid the hand from the other side down, and round her back, slipping it into the waistband of her jeans, just where my fingertips could feel the top of the separation of her arse cheeks. I rubbed the fingers in tiny circles as I dragged my mouth across her lower back in slow sucking diagonals.
She was panting as she unzipped the front of her jeans. I stood up as she turned round, and I saw the look in her eyes that said, “I want you.” She pressed her mouth to mine, but instead of feeling triumph, or elation, I felt shabby inside, as if I’d cheated her. I returned her kiss, but gently, and I fondled the back of her neck, looking into her eyes, and not at the breasts I’d so wanted to kiss earlier.
“Is something the matter?” She looked frightened.
“No, but I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“What do you mean?” No less frightened.
“Don’t listen to your cunt.” I took her hand. “Let’s take a break. Is there any of that wine left?”
She nodded, and we sat side by side on the sofa. I shifted her pullover and her bra out of the way while she poured some more red wine into the glass on the coffee table. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?”
“Of course not.” I took a sip and leaned forward to kiss her lips. “Cheers.”
She smiled. “You taste of wine. Why did you stop?”
I allowed myself a look at her breasts. They were gorgeous. Crying out to be kissed, with nipples that said ‘suck me’ in puffy pink letters. “Because I want to stay your friend.”
Looking puzzled, she took the glass from me and took a generous mouthful.
I explained. “If we’d carried on, I might have walked out of here afterwards and you might never want to see me or speak to me again. I don’t want that. You wanted me to kiss your back. I’ve done that.”
“But I want to go to bed with you.”
I took her hand again. “Then we can.”
If you like. Well, in a minute. When I’m sure your cunt isn’t shouting louder than your common sense.” Mine was doing its best to melt everything between the neckline of my top and my knees. “I don’t want you thinking I took advantage of you.” Where she’d unzipped her jeans I could see the blue lace of her knickers.
She gave my hand a squeeze and took another mouthful of wine. “Thanks. Do you want some more of this before I drink it all?”
It would have meant letting go of her hand, and I didn’t want to. “No. It’s okay. Help yourself. I don’t need Dutch courage.”
“No.” A smile played across her face. And she put the glass down, still nearly half full. “I don’t think I do, either. Can we go upstairs?”
I smiled back. “Of course. If that’s what you want.”
She led the way up the steep and narrow staircase, holding her jeans up stop them falling down where she’d undone the zip. The big double bed almost filled the bedroom. “I’m sorry. I didn’t make the bed. I didn’t know that this was going to happen.” It didn’t look too dire, with the candy striped quilt thrown back where she’d got out, and a dent in the pillow.
“It’s fine. Can I get undressed?” I kicked off my shoes, they weren’t likely to be an issue. “Or is that too much?”
“Can I watch?”
“You can help if you like.” It was half meant as a joke, and by the time she answered I was already down to jeans and a bra.
The look in her eyes was like a thirst. “Can I?” Her jeans were slipping.
Fuck. “Of course. This isn’t just research any more, is it?”
She shook her head. “No. It started out that way, but when you kissed my back… Well, it was like magic. You seemed to know just what I needed, just where to kiss, and how, and how much. I wanted more.” She stopped, and looked me in the eye. “I want more.”
“How about another kiss. Is that a good place to start?”
“Can I take your bra off first? I want to feel your skin against mine.”
Does it rain on bank holidays? “I’d like that also.”
Taking off someone else’s bra if you’ve never done it before is a bit tricky, because everything’s the other way round from doing your own, and Scarlett struggled a bit before she managed it, but we ended up tit to tit and nose to nose. It made her laugh. “Is this what the Maoris do?”
“Maybe they used to. I think New Zealanders are a little prudish. I guess they keep their bras on these days.” I touched my lips to hers, with just a little bit of sideways drag, and when I felt her mouth soften, I sucked her lower lip.
I had no idea what she was trying to say, because she was mumbling with her mouth against mine, but she didn’t sound unhappy, and she pressed herself closer to me, her hands on my back. I slid my tongue forwards, and just touched it to her lips, but it was as if I’d wakened a sea creature. Her mouth suddenly sucked, and my tongue was inside it. A small piece of my brain tried to rewind an hour, so that I’d realise just what was going on, but the rest of my brain (and all of my cunt) was on fast forward, looking forward to what was going to happen next. I slipped a hand inside her jeans and her knickers, and cupped her arse cheek.
It was like breaking the glass on a fire alarm. Suddenly she had a hand on the back of my head while the other one was fumbling with the waistband of my jeans. I suppose because men wear jeans, she was quicker than she had been with the bra, and she had her hand on my arse, also. I loved it.
My face was so close to hers I could feel the warmth of my breath bouncing back. “Shall we get the rest of these things off and lie down?” I felt my jeans being hauled down even before I’d finished speaking.
“Can I touch the front of your panties?” Scarlett asked.
I couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry. Yes. Of course.”
Fortunately, she laughed too. “That must sound funny.”
“It did. It doesn’t matter. Unless you want to stick something up my arse, you can do more or less what you want, and I’ll like it.”
She stroked the triangle of cloth at the front of my knickers the same way a child strokes a cat’s head, unsure of what she was doing, and a little clumsy. “This is completely different from being a nurse.”
“Do you want to take them off?”
She looked up at me and nodded, but didn’t make a move, so I reached out, took her hands, and placed them on the waistband of my knickers. She got the message, and slid them all the way down past my knees, exposing my pubes close to her face. Looking up at me again, she said, “This may sound a little odd, but I’d like to rest my cheek against your bush. Is that all right?”
I laughed again. “Of course it’s all right. I’d love that.” It was such a gentle gesture, like a child with a soft toy, and for all my experience, I couldn’t remember anyone actually doing it before, and it had never occurred to me to do it to anyone either. “That feels lovely. Shall we get into bed? You can do it some more, if you like. Or I could kiss your back again. We don’t have to do anything unless you want to. What I said before is still true. I want to stay your friend.”
Scarlett got to her feet, pushing her jeans down as she did so. “I want us to stay friends too. But I want us to be lovers, even if only for today.” She smiled. “That sounds so corny, but that’s exactly how I feel. I don’t know what I want, but I know that I want it, and I want it with you.” She stepped out of her jeans, and slipped her pale blue knickers off quickly, as if she hoped I might not notice her doing it.
“You’re beautiful. Come on, let’s lie down.”
I let her get into bed before me, and when I joined her, she pulled the quilt over us.
“Are you cold?”
“No. Nervous. A little embarrassed.”
“Shall I kiss your back some more?”
“Do you want to? Or do you want to get on to something else?”
I felt myself smiling. “There’s no hurry. I’m not a man. Turn round, and I’ll kiss your back.” I pushed the quilt away and started with an abridged repeat of what I’d done when we were downstairs, but with a little more sucking, and then I worked my way down towards her gorgeous arse. I’m always a bit careful about arses. Lots of women like arse play, but the smell of shit puts me off. However, if you come at things from the right angle, there are lots of good things you can do without getting your nose near the hole. Like kissing the pudgy triangle between the dimples at the base of her spine. Or the creases below the buttocks, where they join the thighs.
At a guess, from the moans, Scarlett loved both, but when I started kissing and squeezing her arse cheeks she rolled over and sat up, seeking out my mouth with hers. It was never going to be a stable configuration, and she fell backwards onto the bed, dragging me down with her. She did her best to say ‘ouch’, but when you’ve got someone else’s tongue between your lips, it sounds more like a squelch.
“Sorry,” I whispered, detaching myself and straddling her thigh.
She giggled, which made me feel really happy, and said, “It was my fault. I’m okay. Are you?”
Fuck. How okay could I get? Snogging the woman of my dreams (who is straight) with my cunt pressed against her leg, and my breasts brushing her chest. Not a bad starting point. “I’ll live.” Even if I died later, it would still have been worth it. I kissed her mouth briefly, and wriggled down to kiss her throat, rubbing my aching clit against her thigh as I went. Unlike Scarlett, I managed not to squawk. She writhed under me, and just about the only bit of her that wasn’t squirming was the bit of her neck that I was kissing. I stayed with it for a while, and then I wriggled further down (probably smearing cunt slime on her leg as I went), to take her nipple in my mouth. I’d been longing to, even before I clocked her breasts in the gym, before I even knew what they’d look like, and when I’d seen them downstairs, while we were sipping wine, swollen and pouting like a teenager going for her first kiss, I had felt like a teenager again, also. The one I took between my lips didn’t stay swollen and pouting, it felt like the rubber on the end of a pencil, but the size of a hazelnut, and wrinkled like a giant cranberry.
Scarlett bucked and twisted, but I didn’t think she was trying to get away, and her knee pressed hard against my cunt. She just about managed to speak. “Jesus. That’s so nice.” I thought something similar myself.
I played with the nipple in my mouth until she started to calm down, and then I turned my attention to the other one, for most of a full length action replay, while my hand comforted the one I’d left behind. “Your skin’s lovely,” I said, trailing my lips towards her bellybutton. The way she was panting, it was like gliding over Hawaiian waves, and while I might have been taking my time, I knew where I wanted to be washed ashore. The red bush above the high water mark was beckoning. I kissed my way down the inside of her hip bone, just skirting the edge of the bush, and on to her thigh, down the front, and then over to the inside, just above her knee, ready for the trip back up.
Her legs spread in obvious anticipation, and I got my first good look at her open lips, pink and glistening. I could have gone straight there, but I figured that we’d both benefit from a couple more minutes of temptation. I slowly mouthed my way up her inner thigh. When I was close enough to get the first delicious whiff of her cunt, like the aroma from the kitchens when you’re still on the aperitifs, I switched to the other thigh, low down again, for a repeat. Scarlett groaned, I guessed partly with pleasure but also partly with impatience, so I didn’t take quite as long as I had with the first one, and instead of stopping short, I clamped my mouth over my tasty dripping prize, my nose in the red bush I’d seen from above.
Scarlett bucked, howling like a drain in a gale as I pressed my tongue against her clit and sucked hard. I could feel her orgasm pulsing against my lower lip, and I came also, though not with such ferocity, with my cunt pressed against her leg.
When her shuddering had subsided, and she was back to muttering ‘Jesus’ again, I kissed my way around the wet lips, gently, soothingly. It wasn’t over, by any means, but I reckoned she could do with a break before the next course. I sat up, straddling her thigh, with one hand on her pubes as if to steady myself, and I slid a finger of my other hand inside her, eliciting a squeak of delight. A second finger joined the first, and together they glided up the slippery inside to find the sweet spot above the bone. A gasp and a thrust from her told me I’d found it, and I slid my thumb up to her clit. She seemed just to come and come, sometimes with barely a few seconds in between the climaxes, and sometimes perhaps a minute, though I wasn’t concentrating on the timings.
Scarlett’s chest was sweating and flushed by the time I eased my fingers out, and her cunt was dark and juicy and swollen, like ripe cherries. I let her pant for a bit before I settled down to dessert. I touched my tongue to the dark opening, sucked each fleshy fold, and kissed her bulging clit, in no particular order, as if I were picking my way through a delicious fruit salad. Judging from the gasps and squeaks and whimpers, Scarlett was enjoying it at least as much as I was.
I finished with some flat tongued licks and a couple of delicate goodbye kisses, and I lay down beside her, my hand on her belly. “Are you okay?” I asked. It was a silly question, but it served as a way to bring the sex part to an end.
She turned her face towards mine. “That was amazing. You were amazing. You are amazing.”
I realised she was about to kiss me. “Careful. My face is covered in cunt slime.”
She obviously found it funny. “I’ve never heard it called that. Come here. I still want to kiss you.” It was a gentle kiss, a kiss that was more than just heated passion. “That was all so amazing,” she whispered. “You knew just what to do and where to go. Do you want me to try to do the same for you?”
My cunt was screaming, “Yes! Yes! Fuck, yes!” And I did. Desperately. But I managed to get my head round a better idea. “Yes. I’d love that. Next time.
Well I don't know about YOU but I am pretty HOT after reading that excerpt and can't wait to read the completed work.
I hope you all enjoyed this excerpt as much as I did

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Barca Live and Drylive Gig review for 27th July Manchester 2013

I arrived at the BarCa on a beautiful Saturday afternoon in Castlefield, Manchester. Eager to meet people and listen to the live music.

The event was organised by Mancunian Promotions  and called #OneDayOneLove Festival of Live Music. Mr Peeps was there to lend a hand.  It started at 2.15 and ran 'till late.

I could hear the music drawing me in, as I walked up by the side of the Bridgewater Canal. BarCa is adjacent to the Bridewater Canal, which runs through Castlefield. Ideally situated for live functions. It has canal side terrace, multiple bars and three private function rooms. The stunning Crystal room and balcony which is available to hire for private and corporate events looks fabulous
There is a purpose built stage and PA/DJ area outside. The outside bar was manned by barmen Steven and Tom, very friendly and helpful they were too.


Although I knew a number of people attending this event, they were in some respects virtual entities as I knew them through Twitter. This was my first opportunity to meet them in person.

First I met with Trust a fox, whose amazing photography brings alive these events through the camera lens. Who then introduced me to a number of Twitter and Manchester celebs. These were the inimitable Mr Peeps, slinkysharon, dazmanc, fruitbatwalton and the famous (probably a little infamous too!) Grumbling Gargoyle. These were all as fabulous as their Twitter persona suggested.

I got a bite to eat at the BarCa too, it was delicious. So good food as well as good music. Win, win I'd say.

I had met up with some of the band members of The Ruckus who were playing this event at a previous gig at Drylive earlier on in the year. They had kindly sent me a track to listen to prior to it's release called Palm of my Hand (which I loved btw!)  An utterly fantastic track.  I had some lovely pictures taken of myself with the boys too (sorry if I showed them to you I wouldn't be very anonymous now would I? And I would possibly have to send hit men out to sort you out!)


The line up the band is Greg Grieson lead singer, James (Jim) Carolan guitar, Darren Harper Bass guitar, Patrick Scully singer/songwriter/guitar and Jack Spencer drums. You can also find them here on YouTube.

I have to say a HUGE thank you to Nidge from trust a fox for letting me have the pictures of The Ruckus above.

I stood watching The Ruckus perform alongside of Si, the singer from Puppet Rebellion and his girlfriend. Nice to see other bands supporting one another. The Ruckus are playing in Manchester next on the 7th September 2013 with Sptfyr at the Drylive.

On my arrival a band called Black Sonic Revolver were playing. Fab band, and they were having such a good time playing too, It was a real pleasure to watch them.

The Bands playing that day at BarCa were:



11 Bands in all
A Fantastic line up, for a fantastic day and night.

Nidge Sanders from trust a fox photography is an extremely talented, passionate and hard working freelance photographer based in Manchester. Nidge works with bands doing gig and promo work across the North West of England. He is also available for commercial photography BUT Doesn't do weddings LOL

If you want to listen to some of the music by these bands, listen to Mr Peeps podcast and also tune in to dazmanc at Salford City Radio 94.4fm.

Information for upcoming events is available on various blogs such as Ralph's Life and SquarePig

We need to support these amazing musicians and please attend these gigs. The ticket prices are very low, in comparison with the fantastic atmosphere and fantastic music you can experience by attending!

We also had some entertainment on the canal as we watched four fire engines arrive to offer assistance to a sinking canal cruiser. I love a man in uniform (ask anyone on Twitter!) and four crews worth, what can I say, were well worth the watch. I wasn't the only one ogling and they had a female firefighter there, that the lads were admiring too.

All in all, the bands were fabulous and entertained the crowds throughout the afternoon and evening. The only thing that marred the evening (and then not by much!) was the rain that began to fall.

I had another venue to visit in the evening so travelled over to Drylive on Oldham Street, in the Northern Quarter of Manchester. This is a music venue and club space with Live music.
The basement was refurbished in 2011 and features a new 25 watt Martin Audio system, industry
 sound equipment, new lighting rig and control system, staging and a creative promotion team.
DryLive boasts a range of music covering an eclectic mix of house to drum and base, indie and rock & roll.

The line up for the night was:

5 of Manchester's finest


The line up at DryLive was top notch and very different performances from the bands playing.

Great Reckoning recently released two songs on soundcloud.  The songs are Bleed For Your Life and Finally. Their line up is Josh Glen singer, Andrew Pendlebury lead guitarist, Matty Lyon rhythm guitar, Jordan Lawley drummer and Laiton Price bassist. The picture is of Great reckoning at the Cadence Café in Tyldesley, Manchester.


Blank Cheque, who describe themselves as a 2 piece acoustic band with a difference. They are brothers Tom and Josh Phillips from Stockport. A guitarist and a saxophone player. I have always loved the sound of a saxophone, so found these particularly interesting too.

The majority of these bands have both Twitter and Facebook pages. So check them out and like and follow them. Give them the love and support they deserve and need to succeed.

Above all try and attend these brilliant venues with their fabulous line ups of bands and musicians. Indie music is alive and kicking in the North West

Also a head up as to my next Blog post which will once again be a Guest Blog
Keep your eyes peeled, as I intend to publish it this week some time
  Bye for now


ALL are 99p /99c from 18 - 25th May and #FREE on #KU #Kinky #Quarantine

ALL are 99p /99c from 18 - 25th May and  # FREE  on  # KU ✰♡*•˛  ❤ ˛•*✰  ❣ ✰♡*•˛  ❤ ˛•*☆♡*•˛  ❤ ˛•*☆ A Valentine's Bind: Mancheste...