Girl on the Net

It’s fun to have stuff in common. And when it comes to sex, it’s hot to discover that your own kinks match or dovetail with those of the person you’re fucking. But alongside the ones I personally have – D/s, cum, impact play, dirty talk, weed/breath play, loads more – there’s a second category of kinks: those I don’t personally wear on my sleeve, but find wildly attractive on somebody else. Nothing in nature is a binary – it’s not a matter of ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to any given kink. In between there’s a whole gamut of ‘maybes’ and a few shining examples of ‘OhMyGodYesPlease’s too. It’s the latter I’m thinking of today. Kinks I don’t personally masturbate to when I’m alone, but which will probably get me thinking and wanking if I can centre my mind on your desire to do them. I got bored and horny the other day so I made a list of kinks which make my eyes and my cunt grow wide with delight if someone I’m fucking tells me they get off on them. Here’s my take on the sexiest kinks.

Let’s define our terms first: I am talking sexy kinks in the same way I’d talk about certain passions and personality traits that I’d be delighted to discover in someone I was dating. Just as I don’t personally drink whisky, but I love the taste of it on someone else’s lips. I don’t own a vinyl collection and record player, but I find it deeply sexy and compelling if someone I’m dating does. Likewise, I admire cool hobbies such as playing a musical instrument or being amazing at art, and if you mention this stuff to me I am likely to glaze over with horny joy. I am rubbish at tying knots, but if you’re skilled at bondage then bonus hot points for you. I hate cooking for myself, but if you tell me you can cook (without leaving my flat covered in dirty cookware and a red wine jus bukakke) then my knickers will be round my ankles before you’ve even got the skillet up to temperature.

Five of the sexiest kinks for you to have

Splosh

I could live happily for the rest of my life without having custard poured all over my tits. However it would significantly enhance my life if I were dating someone who wanted to pour custard all over my tits.

Somebody wrote a guest blog about sploshing here back in 2015, and mentioned her boyfriend squirting whipped cream down her knickers, then pulling her pants up towards her arse crack so he could watch the cream burst out. And honestly, that mental image is burned so hard into my brain. The cream, the bursting, the boyfriend repeating the exercise over and over till his dick twitched so hard he couldn’t wait any longer… unngh.

He ordered me onto my hands and knees and pushed himself up against me from behind so I could feel how hard he was, before filling my knickers with whipped cream. On all fours, I tried to turn my head so I could see him behind me, biting his lip as he pulled my panties up between my ass cheeks, moaning as he watched the cream burst out. Ohhh fuck. Over and over he repeated this, the whipped cream starting to melt and drip down my legs. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he pushed me down onto the bed and fucked me hard, grabbing at my custard entangled hair and and my body, feeling the slippery mess he’d made of me and pulling me closer.

I’ve only ever been with one guy who was into splosh – the person who first woke me up to this kink not as something purely playful and silly but something that could trigger a really guttural, filthy, gimme-gimme-gimme kind of lust. He showed me one of his favourite splosh websites and we talked through the kinds of things he wanted: like getting me on my knees in knickers and a tiny t-shirt that he could tear to pieces and trash before covering me in something gloopy and viscous. He painted such a vivid picture of his fantasies that I was halfway to buying a paddling pool and ten cartons of Ambrosia before the fucker ghosted me.

While we’re at it though: being trashed is another exceptionally sexy kink. I didn’t realise quite how hot it was until I dated a guy who mentioned that he’d love the chance to tear off all of my clothes…

Findom

Obviously. We live in a capitalist society and money matters. I wish it didn’t, but it does. Money makes the world go round, it relieves the constant ache of stress about where the next bill is coming from, and what’s more it forces a very specific and quantifiable power imbalance on any relationship. If you don’t think it does, then congratulations! You’re probably the one with the money.

Rich people will tell you time and time again that money doesn’t buy happiness. And my response to that has always been: give me yours, then.

I’ve spent a lot of my life struggling for money, but there have been some blissful periods of joy when I find myself in a position of not having to worry where the next month’s gas bill payment is coming from. Money can’t buy happiness, of course: true happiness comes from things like friendship and love and achieving our goals. But money can buy escape from specific kinds of misery: the churning worry that you’re about to go overdrawn, or the panic that sets in when something vital breaks and you’ve no means to replace it. As a result, money is a tool that confers an extraordinary amount of power on the person who holds it. I have encountered many men who instinctively recognise this power, and wield it in non-consensual ways to try and control me or buy my time or favour.

How about, instead of doing that in an insidious, manipulative way, we instead acknowledge the direct link between money and power and kink the absolute fuck out of it? How about instead of buying me dinner and expecting sex, we engage in a consensual role-play where you hand me crisp twenty-pound notes while instructing me on which clothes to take off while I strip and dance for you? What if I held your cock in the palm of my hand and told you that the only way I’d relieve the ache of your erection would be if you emptied your current account into my own? What if you gave me control over exactly how you spent your cash, giving me the ability to deny you post-work cocktails in favour of a hefty donation to Refugee Action? What if I refused to fuck you until you’d sprinkled fivers all over the bed?

Money is power. And where there’s power, there’s a hot kink just waiting to be toyed with.

Orgasm denial

I do not want you to deny me orgasms. And, quite frankly, no one has yet managed to do that successfully. Even if you think you can count me down to coming, or tell me not to come at all, I am pretty confident in my ability to orgasm without letting you know.

I do love denying you orgasms, though. I get off on those moments when you’re so horny for me that your limbs start to tremble, and your eyes glaze over with a focus that is pure and earnest. Those times when your brain is completely and utterly empty save the one key imperative: come.

Orgasm denial is one of the sexiest kinks because it allows me access to that particularly animal part of you. The part that unlocks when every fibre of your being is straining to be sated. The eyes glaze over, the heart beats faster, and all rational thought disappears.

I don’t ever masturbate while considering denial, but if you have this kink I will wank about you a lot. Maybe in front of your face, while you’re locked in chastity or tied up or otherwise unable to bring yourself relief.

FEET

What is so hot about feet? Can this be quantified and articulated, or is it just one of those things that hits a primal trigger for foot fetishists but which is inexplicable to those who don’t share the same love? Like when guys roll up their shirt sleeves and 90% of the man-fanciers among us immediately lose all motor function and begin drooling.

I enjoy a foot fetishist. Not just for the free foot massages, but because feet seem like a fun, almost innocent body part to be obsessed with. The wholesome cuteness of a pair of bare feet radically enhances how hot it is when you beg me to let you cover them in your cum. What’s more, although I have an on/off relationship with my own body – sometimes loving it, sometimes hating it, always worried that I should have sorted these insecurities out now I’m in my forties – I have always been pretty pleased with my feet. To those who find feet attractive, I think mine are a pretty sexy example.

Whatever you do, never disabuse me of this notion.

Pegging

A controversial choice. Not because ‘pegging’ itself is controversial (though the term could maybe use some work), but because if you’ve read this blog for a while you’ll know I’ve done my fair share of it. Perhaps it’s technically a kink I have and therefore it doesn’t belong in this list?

I do enjoy this kink, for sure, but I could live without it if I had to. I don’t find myself dreaming about pegging when I’m alone, and the act doesn’t ever make it into my wank fantasies unless those fantasies are the reflection of a desire that the person I’m currently dating has expressed. That’s the key, I think. The reason why pegging deserves its place in this list:

I don’t fancy ‘pegging’ exactly, I fancy guys who want to get fucked in the ass.

I do not drastically get off on the act of doing it, even though I’ve tried various ways to make the act physically pleasurable for me at the same time as him. I even had a bold go with those ‘strapless strap on‘ toys that are meant to give you happy cunt vibes while you’re shafting somebody. It didn’t work for me, it kept falling out of my cunt. More importantly, perhaps, was that any toy which tried to translate the rough pounding I was giving someone else into pleasurable sensation for me distracted me from what I found hot about pegging in the first place: the moans and begging of the guy on the receiving end of my dick.

I don’t get off on anally fucking you, but I absolutely love making you my slut.

And nothing is sluttier than you begging to get fucked in the ass. NOTHING.

Me humping in-and-out of someone, trying to angle my clit to get a few cheap thrills from my general thrusting motion? Meh. You grinding against me with a naked bum and a slight whimper, to hint that you’d like me to strap one on and give it to you please please please?

Yes. Absolutely. Good boy.

Sexiest kinks for you to have

This list is by no means exhaustive. Already, having sent the brief to Stuart to illustrate (aren’t those charms on her necklace cute as fuck??) I’m itching to add a few more. I think some of my favourite kinks are ones I have effectively ‘caught’ from partners in the past – to the above list, if I had more time, I might add breeding, tactile textures, snowballing, being written on, watching cam shows together and taking it in turns to press the button to tip tokens… and oh God so many more.

I think when we talk about kink, too often we’re looking for identical matches or neat dovetails. You like spanking, I love to be spanked. You like playing with rope, I like being restrained. But kink is such a broad spectrum, it’s not just a question of sorting them into buckets of ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Some kinks are hot for you to have even if I don’t share them.

And some kinks will become hot purely because you put the idea in my mind…