All Posts – Page 5

Toxic femininity: oh, the men I hate when I’m on my bike

This post was inspired by someone on Twitter a while ago who objected to the phrase ‘toxic masculinity’ and wanted to know if there was such a thing as ‘toxic femininity‘. I don’t know that there is, but this is the scenario that leapt to mind. 

I don’t hate men, but I do hate this man. We race together towards a red light. He’s not far behind me, but he definitely is behind me. We yank on our brakes to come to a halt, and he pulls up next to me. Then, side-by-side, we sweat. We pant. We eye each other up. Then amber, green: go – we’re off. Another futile race which he cannot possibly win. He’ll try anyway, why not? And I don’t care if he tries – I like that he does. I swallow his attempts to beat me like shots of tequila and cum, delighting in how bitterly they burn as they slide down my throat.

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I felt him come with my fingertips

We used to do this thing, back in my old flat, where he’d lube his dick up and slide it between the cheeks of my arse. Just… thrusting back and forth, where my bum meets the top of my thighs. I love the way it feels, and the sense that he’s so horny he’ll fuck anything to relieve the ache in his dick. Sometimes he’d slip his dick forward and up a bit so it was tight between my labia. Almost-but-not-quite entering my cunt. Often this made me so wet we didn’t need to replenish the lube, and he’d fuck my ass with the stuff left over from before, plus all the quim I’d drizzled out onto him. But we never tried it like this before: me on my front, one hand reaching down between my legs to press the head of his cock tighter against my clit, until I felt him come with my fingertips.

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The walk of shame

They call it the walk of shame but you know damn well it’s a victory march. The morning after you’ve got laid, as you drag your fuck-tired body to the bus stop, or the tube, or the café round the corner which will furnish you with a bacon butty for the long journey home, you know: this is not shame, it is glory.

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Guest blog: Fun with a guy who had a muscle kink

As someone who is inordinately proud of even the tiniest hint of muscle on my own body, I love knowing that one day I might get to shag a man with a muscle kink. Today’s guest blogger met such a man, and had a super fun and sexy time with him. In today’s anonymous post, she’s here to tell you about sex with someone who has a muscle kink, and how sometimes even sex which doesn’t immediately press your buttons can be a fun and playful way to spend your time…

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Me, explaining my hard limits to someone I have never fucked before

So I’m definitely SUPER into rough sex and degradation and stuff, but I’d rather be degraded for how slutty I’m being than for how I look. If we’re talking hard limits you should know I am very sensitive when it comes to my body so ‘you filthy little bitch’ is A-OK, but ‘pig’: not so much. I’m up for butt stuff but I’d like fair warning so I can do a bit (OK, a lot) of prep for anal in general. I’m not into age-play, so you’re never my fucking Daddy and I guess the MAIN thing… like my hardest of all hard limits… is… could you please be really careful with my glasses?

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