He’s really cool, of course. Sweet and thoughtful and politically angry in good ways, not to mention kind and fun. He’s an excellent cook and he has lovely hands and he sometimes picks me up which makes me squirm. But I think, if pressed, what I like best about him at this very moment is that sometimes he makes me say ‘please.’
I am fuckdrunk yet again. My legs are limp and my muscles weak and my throat is parched and all I can feel is the throbbing satisfaction in my cunt. For a split second I wonder if I’m making poor decisions, then I realise that fuckdrunk me could not possibly care less. Thinking straight is not as fun as being high on dick.
Sometimes orgasms are elusive, and other times they’re addictive. But what if you don’t know whether you’ve had one or not? Today’s guest blogger, Ilex, is here to share a story about discovering orgasms long after you’ve discovered sex, and how learning to orgasm later in life has affected her outlook on sex. Oh, and share an intensely hot threesome fantasy at the same time… enjoy!
There’s usually a moment during a fuck where I can sense a change in pace from the dude who is fucking me: a slight increase in speed, or a pause, that can mean he’s on the verge of coming. At this point, what I really want to do is start begging for cum. Tell him ‘please god yes fucking squirt your cum inside me.’ But it’s a pretty risky strategy.
Have you ever held the end of a lit cigarette to a crumpled ball of flash paper? There’s this brief period of time between the moment when you touch it to when it catches fire, and in that second it could be that the paper isn’t special at all – maybe this is just normal paper, which will burn slow and steady instead of exploding into light. Then wait… beat… FLASH. A sudden whoosh of bright light and fizz. You have to chuck it up in the air quickly so it doesn’t burn your hand, and the release and catharsis of watching it burn eclipses anything that came before. The other day I was fucking a guy and he whispered something in my ear.