Category Archives: Filthy ones

By the time my coffee is cold, he’ll have fucked her

Recently I have been trying to get to grips with the idea of sending my partner off to go and fuck other women while I wait alone at home, ideally wanking and finding the whole thing very sexy, at the very least feeling happy that he’s happy: a brief flash of compersion. It is not easy, but one of the ways I am trying to become acquainted with it is to write erotic stories about it. Here’s one of them.  (more…)

Weird sex tips: the Rubber Hand Illusion of fucking

What’s that old joke? That if you sit on one of your hands until it goes numb, when you wank it feels like someone else is doing it. I’ve never tried that, but recently I discovered some pretty excellent sensations while synchronising sex to porn, which I’m going to call the Rubber Hand Illusion Of Fucking.


Consent negotiation doesn’t only happen once

What do you do when you’re nervous in front of the person you love the most? When you’ve spent weeks having awkward, painful arguments in which neither of you really knows the right words to say to fix things? Some people might go out for dinner or to a movie – something traditional and date-y, to remind each other that they can still have fun. Others might share a bottle of wine and have a deep and meaningful chat – re-establishing your shared goals and reminding each other how much love there is between you. We play Magic: The Gathering.


Fake orgasms for kicks: I want you to come in my cunt

I want you to come in my cunt. I want to feel the twitches of your dick and the rush of liquid pouring out of it. And I really can feel it, you know. Hard. Especially when you’ve got a raging erection and plenty of spunk to give, the release as you pump it deep inside me is the most delicious feeling. I want you to come in my cunt. I want it so much that sometimes I’ll fake orgasms to make it happen.


Massive Dildo Orgy: fucked with four cocks

Intimidation is hard to distinguish from excitement, especially when the two so often come hand in hand. That look you shoot me which says ‘you’re in trouble’ can sometimes make the blood drain from my face, tricking me into thinking I’m afraid, before the flood converges in my beating crotch, reminding me that this only happens because I really really want it to.