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.”
How do you go about sharing sexy fantasies? It’s one of the questions people seem to struggle with a lot – as measured both by my inbox and also the sheer volume of advice guides written about broaching the subject with your partner. But one of the things I find fascinating/annoying about the way it’s presented is that it’s often seen as an ‘all or nothing’ thing: that you tell your partner you want to be dominated (with a strap-on and a vigorous pegging, for example), and they either tell you ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ That’s it: a green light or a red one, and then the discussion has ended. I don’t think that’s how it always works.