Sting Straddled by Wife on Bed for Mag Shot

January 14, 2011 03:09:34 GMT

The rocker claimed in the article for Harper's Bazaar that he enjoys hours of Tantric sex with wife Trudy Styler.

Sting, Trudie Styler
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Photo credit: /WENN

Rocker Sting and wife Trudie Styler have showcased their famously passionate relationship in a series of saucy shots for Harper's Bazaar magazine. The stars, who wed in 1992, have previously discussed their bedroom antics in detail, claiming they enjoy hours of Tantric sex.

They have further shown their lust for each other in a sexy photoshoot for the latest edition of the fashion bible, posing in a series of provocative pictures and talking about their "tawdry" love life. In one snap, Styler straddles the singer on a bed, while another shows the pair smooching as Sting puts his hand suggestively on the top of his wife's thigh.

In the interview, the rocker reveals the secrets of their successful union, "Relationships aren't easy, and I don't think they're particularly natural, but we're lucky because we actually like each other. We love each other - that's a given - but Trudie lights my world up when she comes into a room. I don't take her for granted."


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posted by Pam Guess on Jan 16, 2011
I’m Sting, my highest purpose in this life? Over-indulgence with my wife. All day we shop and drink and eat, All night we pound each other’s meat. Like Pavlov’s dogs we salivate, If dinner time is ever late. We smack our lips and start to groan, Like dogs with a delicious bone. We’re proud that there is just no end, To our capacity to spend. Some morons donate all their dough, We’d never be that stupid, though! I love the pics in Harp’s Bazaar ‘Cause I look like a porno star. Thanks to Adobe photo shop, My saggy wife looks kind of hot. I’m looking good, I’m lean and mean; A sixty year old sex machine. I know I’m smarter than the rest, ‘cause money does buy happiness! Inviting thinkers to our home, So we won’t have to drink alone. Who cares what famous thinkers say? When here, we keep them drunk all day. I used to wonder which was me; The Sting on stage or Sting/Trudie. Now I don’t wonder who I am, I just get drunk; who gives a damn! My intellectual image is gone, I flushed it all right down the John. Pretentious ain’t what I’m about Now I am “Sting the Drunken Lout”!

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