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On celebrity crushes (part 2)

Given my apparent inability to meet celebrity crushes and speak to them like a normal human being, I have made a quite concerted effort not to meet my heroes. At events where interesting science-minded people give talks that make me fall in love with their knowledge, I’ve usually steered clear of them at the post-talk drinks, run away if I see my friends with them, and all but hidden in the toilet if I bump into one.

But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being in love with these people. My heart still flutters when an intelligent or funny guy takes to the stage with a microphone, and the tiny amount of brain capacity that isn’t dedicated to preventing myself from fainting will instead focus on imagining the hilarious speech he might make at our wedding reception.

Yet those aren’t the kind of crushes I want to talk about today. Strangely, given the fact that I’m usually incapable of seeing a hot guy without imagining what his dick tastes like, most of my celebrity crushes are of a much tamer nature. There’s little actual sex – no licking and sucking and being banged up against a wardrobe – it’s mainly very family friendly. Long walks in the park, him laughing at my jokes, and maybe the odd playful squeeze to prove just how powerfully my famous boyfriend loves me.

Fucking a crush

Today I want to talk about the other kind of crush – the one that is less to do with personality and everything to do with the sheer physical need for a fuck.

Those people you see – either on TV or in the street – who appeal to me not because of their beautiful words but because of their beautiful bodies. Guys with bare arms and tight t-shirts. Guys whose jeans hang just low enough that I can see their hipbones.

Usually, when I fall for these guys, it happens like this:

1. Gotn is sitting on a tube, minding her own inane business.

2. Gentleman gets on the tube, and stands directly in front of her.

3. Gotn notices that this gentleman is wearing jeans of the aforementioned hanging-off-the-hips type.

4. Gotn tries to subtly look up, pretending to read the shit adverts for Wellbeing vitamins, or check the maps for the next tube stop, cunningly taking in every inch of his taut, strangerly hotness.

5. Gentleman catches Gotn’s eye and she looks away, ashamed and embarrassed to have been so caught out in objectifying the guy in question.

6. Gotn runs home to have a wank, imagining this guy strapping her by the wrists to the ceiling bars on the London Underground, stripping her naked from the waist down and fucking her with the hip-grabbing, butt-slapping desperation of a guy who can’t get his dick inside deep enough.

If you are one of these guys (and, chances are if you regularly travel on the Central line and you have both tattoos and tight t-shirts then you are one of them) I apologise wholeheartedly. If you’re one of these guys but you tend to sit down on the tube, please replace the fantasy with “imagining this guy laying his London Standard to one side, slipping down in the seat slightly, unzipping his jeans and pulling her ass-first onto his cock.”

I dream of being spanked by porn stars…

Sometimes the images that my brain thrusts on me in public are so extreme, so visceral, that they make even me feel uncomfortable. Imagine my delight, then, when I found myself starting to develop long-distance crushes on men who were a) not the kind of romance-fodder that most celebrity crushes provide and b) actively consenting to be looked at in that dribbling, appreciative way that we perverts like to look.

I’m talking, of course, about porn stars.

A couple of months ago I started working for the incomparable Pandora Blake. She runs a site called Dreams of Spanking, in which beautiful kinky people spank and get spanked to the delight and appreciation of perverts like me. They have a huge and varied range of scenarios, from straight-laced Victorian spankings to feisty, angry catfights. But best of all, they make a real and concerted point of showing everything: not just girl arses (which, despite being straight, I am a big fan of – I like to put myself in the picture, you know?) but boy arses, boy arms, boy torsos and the close-up expressions on the faces of guys when they’re beating ten shades of awesome into a delighted partner.

I can revel in these crushes because the guys in question know exactly what’s going on. They aren’t innocent bystanders on the tube, whose presence in my fantasies might disturb them if they knew about it. They are paid, consenting performers who have agreed to be pictured on camera doing all the things that make me go dribbly. There’s nothing wrong with fantasising about strangers, of course – what goes on in your head is personal and private. But the difference with crushing on porn performers is that I can quite gleefully and delightedly point towards them and go “look at this seriously hot guy doing delicious things to this beautiful lady“, and no one will either shuffle uncomfortably or call for my arrest.

In conclusion, then: screw celebrities – my crushes on hot porn performers are more explicit, more far more fun. Oh, and the best thing about these guys? They remain resolutely behind my laptop screen, so they’re unlikely to appear in a comedy club or on the tube any time soon. As long as I never meet them, I will never have the opportunity to disappoint them.

13 Comments

  • D. says:

    *blows you a kiss*

    Never say never. ;-)

    • Girl on the net says:

      =) I’d be so terribly awkward and disappointing, and would probably end up hiding in a cupboard or something.

  • Gibbon says:

    GOTN You are fab, I adore your blog, but I have to admit, I shuddered and not in a good way when I clicked that link of the ‘seriously hot guy doing delicious things to that beautiful lady’. Guys in tight T-Shirts and sexy jeans. Yes! Guys with tattoos. Hell Yessss!!!! But that guy….hell no! Maybe this is may kink thing, or rather my Anti Kink, but guys with long hair freak me the fuck out! Ugh! I shudder at the thought of that guy with a cane in hand. There is something about a guy with long hair that will make me immediately assume that he is untrustworthy, more specifically going for walks wearing a long parka and nothing else…well maybe some sandals.

    • Pandora says:

      Haha. You know that guy is reading this thread, right?

      We’ve been dating for over eight years now, so good to know a random guy on the internet thinks he’s untrustworthy… to think all this time I might have been making a mistake! Thank you!

    • Girl on the net says:

      Umm…. I’m normally delighted that commenters on my blog are lovely and non judgemental, but that’s a really horrible thing to say. He’s hot like 5 minutes before a summer thunderstorm. You don’t have to agree, but you can try not to be a dick.

    • Azkyroth says:

      What.

    • Whereas long hair on someone who identifies as male hits all my buttons. And those images were extremely erotic to me, thanks to both of the lovely people in them :)

      xx Dee

    • D. says:

      *laughs* If it’s any help to your troubled soul, I have never owned nor worn a pair of sandals at any time in my entire life.

      (I might have had a parka when I was 8 though. Sorry.)

  • James says:

    Oh GOTN you did it gain ! Amazing image! Welcome, my newest fantasy. I’m currently working in Singapore and the cloth handles on the underground would be perfect for twisting and tightening and making into a restraint. Just imagine THAT! Girl would be barely on tiptoe as you shaft her, squeezing her tits together from behind, whispering filth in her ear. I like the thought of the other passengers staring but being too polite and passive to say or do anything, or most likely being turned on themselves. Hmm… I’m going to have to take a cold shower before getting on train the tonight…

  • Beth-Anne says:

    GOTN your blog is amazing and after just looking at the link to Pandora Blakes website, I would normally be too shy to look at something like that online but it’s got me all hot and bothered ;)

    Glorious. Looking forward to reading more posts x

  • Sarah says:

    You’ve just made me think of my ultimate, desperately want to get fucked by them, crush – Jared Leto. Sigh. As a teenager, I would fantasise about kissing him and him being lovely.

    Now it’s a very different thing. Firstly, the fact that he’s even hotter now at 42 than he was 20 years ago helps. Secondly, I know he’s one of the biggest sluts on earth, so I know he’d be absolutely filthy and amazing. Your description pretty much sums it up. He was at an event recently that I used to work at – it’s probably for the best that I wasn’t there, as I probably would have dribbled on his shoes, but still

    As if that wasn’t bad enough, there’s that 30 Seconds To Mars video for Hurricane (not a huge fan of the band, but have watched many of their videos about a thousand times – he is a beautiful man). Watching him dress a girl up in bondage gear and then fuck her, while flashes of more dirty fucking (lots of spitting, ropes and face fucking with vibrators) keep cropping up…. Holy shit. My husband has benefitted many times from that video.

    The other day I saw a video of him singing the same song as an acoustic version and I destroyed my underwear. I mean, I may have left a literal puddle.

    Knowing that he would never fuck me is part of the charm, since I’m no young model – I wouldn’t actually do it either, I’m very happily married. Still, the idea of… Actually, I’ll stop that there and go for a cold shower. Or watch that video again.

  • Charlie says:

    Darwin Day BHA lecture. Professor Alice Roberts. So many kinds of sexy. So many kinds of smart. Uber crush.

  • Ah crushes. Celebrities or porn stars, or anyone else out of reach. If only I could get myself to have a crush on someone near and approachable…

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