Women with Cups of Tea

  'And, near the fire, paint me a tea-table; and place only two cups and saucers on the tea-tray: and, if you know how to paint such a thing symbolically, or otherwise, paint me an eternal teapot...And, as it is very unpleasant to make tea, or to pour it out for oneself, paint me a lovely young woman, sitting at the table. Paint her arms like Aurora's, and her smiles like Hebe's.'

        - Thomas De Quincey, Confessions of an English Opium Eater

  There is no fetish so bizarre that some site on the internet will not cater for it. Even for someone as polymathically perverse as me, a brief trawl through the sleazier reaches of the web can be a real education. It had never occurred to me, for example, to fantasize about women as big as skyscapers, or women being forced to strip by Daleks.
  However esoteric your kink, you can be sure that someone out there shares it and has posted photographs. Whether you are turned on by women brandishing power tools or women dressed as Old Testament prophets, hundreds of web denizens will be only too eager to show you their private grot collection and reassure you you are not alone.
  With one exception. Why, oh why, when one is never more than three clicks away from sites devoted to armpit-worship, vicar-sniffing,* and photos of Tipper Gore in flagrante with a Teletubby, is it impossible to find pictures of women with cups of tea?
  Women with tea, or W/T for short, is by no means my only fetish, or even my most unusual one. (We can discuss my thing for orange inflatable armbands some other time.) Indeed, I have only recently become consciously aware of it, thanks to the ITV afternoon chat show Live Talk, formerly and more saucily known as Loose Women.
  For a male viewer the appeal of Live Talk is that of penetrating the mysteries of some females-only stronghold such as the ancient Greek Festival of the Thesmophoria or the dormitory of a girls' school after lights out. Four rather fetching females sit around a table or recline on couches discussing womanly things and giggling delightfully. Disappointingly, they do not tickle each other or have pillow fights, but they do occasionally compare and contrast breasts and they have been known to threaten to nip each other. They also drink copious amounts of tea. Well, they drink from mugs which I suppose may contain coffee, but I prefer to think it is tea. And who is to stop me? Sometimes I play a sort of drinking game when I watch the programme, sitting on the sofa or lying on my bed with a teacup and drinking from it every time one of the hostesses drinks from hers. If I succeed in slurping at the exact same moment one of them does, I feel we have attained to some sort of mystical union.
  I have come to realize there is something very attractive about a woman drinking, or pouring, tea. I am not sure what the appeal is. Perhaps just the conjunction of two of my favourite things. I like women and I like tea. But it cannot be as simple as that. I also like making the tops of felt-tip pens adhere to my tongue and then attempting to poke myself up a nostril with them, but the sight of a woman doing that would do little for me.
  Perhaps it is some repressed oedipal thing ("Shall I be mother?"). Perhaps it is that there is something reassuringly homely and cosy about a woman sipping a mug of tea. I have come across sites on the net devoted to pictures of women wearing opera gloves, smoking with cigarette holders, or frotting fancy cars. All well and good, but these exotic creatures would require a lot of maintenance were they your paramour. You must forever be squiring them to nightclubs, grand prixs and similar expensive and exhausting locales. A girl who likes tea, on the other hand, would not be immune to the delights of the domestic hearth, and would often be content just to snuggle on the sofa or potter around the kitchen baking cakes.
  Or perhaps some early and formative memory is responsible for my tea fetish. I seem to remember occasions during my boyhood when my mother would invite her friends round for afternoon tea; I, happy child, the sole male permitted in the conclave, after suffering myself to be petted and fussed over by the pretty ladies, would crawl around in a subterranean paradise under the table, listening to their musical voices as they delivered themselves of the day's gossip, admiring their nude, stockinged or trousered legs, occasionally kissing their ankles or rubbing my cheek against their knees, gurgling contentedly to myself. Such experiences could have a profound effect on a lad of thirteen.
  Whatever the reason, I am proud to post the first webpage devoted to the worship of women with tea. Or for more troglodytic visitors, prepare for some hot tea-babe action.

W/T Photo Gallery

Phwoar!

Hubba hubba!

Down, boy, down!

Tannin in the sun!

W/T in the Movies

Brief Encounter

Gorky Park

Barb Wire

Deep Impact

W/T Fan Fiction (coming soon)

There are more hot tea-ladies in the audio porn section ('A Man With Two Birds')

* Vicar-sniffing: vicar-sniffing may be the fastest-growing perversion in the world today. Click here to see an example of a vicar-sniffer's homepage.

(Originally posted Autumn 2000)

Major Update August 2004

The grandmothers of the current Phoenix Marabou Nighty Brigade, the original Phoenix Baby Doll Nighty Brigade, who relieved Patton during the Ardennes campaign, gagging for a refill

She wants it bad

Nighty nigh-tea, hurrr

Hardcore pour-n! Note CAKES. (And, Marabou shoooooes)

Oh, those naughty naughty girls. Note kinky posh-bird crooked-finger action

Teen temptress wants YOU to drink tea

Kettle-shot

Drink it all, drink it all

I would take you right on that trolley, you shameless harlot

Thanks to: ??? (sorry, lost your mail when old account got deleted); me, ripped from Tetley site; Sally J; Karl + PMNB; Tim; Tim; Partik; Stephen D; Sally J; 'Lemon-T'; Ditto; Bev

PS I suppose most of these were found on the net and not really lost. If you own any of the pictures and want me to credit, delete, or pay a fine, mail me.

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