I don’t want your hot dick or your dripping, sizzling spunk: I want you to mouth-fuck me with a Cornetto. Take your sweet, tight arse to the shop and come back with a bag of lollies. Give me ice-cold bites of everything.
When I was young, I wore a dog collar. A literal, actual dog collar of the kind you could buy from any old pet shop. Black leather, studded: the kind you’d use if you wanted your dog to look slightly menacing. I desperately wanted my boyfriend to clip a leash through the metal loops and pull my face onto his cock while I sucked him. But he never did.
“I gave in around six in the morning, and came all over my stomach thinking about fucking you bent over the bed and digging my fingernails into your tits.”
Today is an odd day – I am sitting on my sofa nursing a giant hangover, still reeling from the election last night. So it’s fitting that instead of trying to come out with any words of my own, I’ll give my very tired brain a rest and hand over instead to a guest blogger. Clementine is here to tell you about a recent sexual encounter with a guy… and how that encounter sparked fantasies about someone completely different. No prizes for guessing which of the very specific lines in her piece press my ‘submissive lust’ buttons…