Category Archives: Filthy ones
Being unclean: I don’t shower after sex
One of the lies I tell most frequently is this one: “I’ll have a shower when I get home.” I almost definitely won’t shower after sex. If you’ve just nailed me into a sweaty, jizz-covered mess, the last thing I’ll want to do is rinse it off and go home smelling of shampoo and roses.
Why I won’t shower after sex
Why? Because fucking smells fucking good.
Not just the smell of your cock – the smell of your cock mixed with sweat and come. The smell of your come mixed with the scent of my own cunt. This smell, by the way, is utterly unique to every guy. Transport me back in time to any post-sex, jizz-dripping haze and I’d be able to tell you just from the smell exactly who I’d been shagging.
Smell is deeply evocative. The smell of a searing-hot day can take me back to memories of Florida, even though I haven’t been there since I was fifteen. Certain markets smell like Korea, tangerines smell like Christmas, there’s a particular washing powder that smells like my ex…
And your spunk drying on my sweaty, naked tits smells like decadence, happiness, and utter filth.
You smell fucking good
Apologies to the boys who might be upset to hear about this, but if you leave your clothes at my house I will do bad things with them.
If you leave your boxers I’ll hold them over my mouth, pinch my own nipples, and masturbate to the memories of burying my face in your crotch. If you are one of the rare few who I’ve let sleep in my bed, chances are I’ve slept on your side the next day, with knickers pulled halfway down so I can touch myself while breathing you in.
Is that creepy? Maybe. Probably not quite as creepy as the fact that I still have a t-shirt a boy left at my house many moons ago that no longer smells like his sex-sweat because I’ve sniffed it all out.
Certainly not as creepy as the fact that, while I’m writing this, I’m occasionally taking deep, long breaths of my right hand, because it smells like jizz and lube and one particular boy.
I hate washing that smell off my hands.
It’s probably not totally hygienic, but the idea of showering all that away – the sex sweat and the come and the lingering scent of fucking – seems like a total waste: I’d no more rush into the shower than I’d spit instead of swallow.
Spit: all the ways I love using spit during fucking
We all like this, right? Saliva? It’s nature’s lube. It occurred to me this morning, as I was giving a boy a sayonara blow job before I ran off home, that it’s not just good because it makes things wet – it’s the sound of it, too. And the look and the sensation and – oh, everything. I fucking love spit.
On boy snogs
I have a favourite pervy picture. It’s not as explicit as you might imagine – in fact to certain eyes it could look like an innocent snap of two teenagers in love. But it is not that.
During my first year of University I fell what can only be described as ‘idiotically in love’ with a guy who was generous enough to reciprocate that love with spectacular and quite disgusting sex. He was a brunette. He was straight.
At the same time, I had a good friend in halls who was exquisitely pretty in a lithe, posh-boy way. He was a blond. He was also straight.
These two boys, lovely though they were to me, utterly despised each other.
Can you see where I’m going with this? Maybe not – I’m going to a kebab house at 3 am, on the evening of my 19th birthday. We were waiting for food and I jokingly asked them to kiss. To my unending delight, they actually did. Forcefully, passionately, and with the kind of lustful instinct that you tend to only see in young ones. Luckily I was not completely paralysed with arousal and so, ever resourceful, I whipped out my camera faster than you can say ‘timeless wanking classic’ and took a snap.
If boys kiss in front of me I will probably perv on them
Watching two boys kiss is one of my absolute favourite things. I am frequently mesmerised in gay clubs at the sheer number of hot, lustful men eating at each other like it’s their final chance to do so.
But good though it is to watch any boys kissing, my personal favourite is seeing two otherwise straight guys pulling because they know it will turn me on.
Why? God knows. The kissing’s hot because boys are hot, and at that point it becomes a simple equation: if one thing is hot then if you double the number of hot things and attach them at the face you’ll increase the overall hotness output.
But I suspect there’s also something of a dictatorial streak in me. Despite being submissive when I’m fucking, as a general rule I love to see boys doing things that I’ve asked. Sometimes I can control boys purely by telling them it’ll make my cunt wet if they do stuff – I am God.
Part of the thrill with straight-boy kisses is definitely the fact that they’re usually a bit uncomfortable. In this situation the fact that the guys hated each other made it all the more arousing. I remembered the bitter rows they’d had, the way they snarked about each other to me to try and get me on side. I made these boys get over their mutual disdain just so they’d do dirty things to each other.
But mostly it’s hot because, even after initial reluctance, I’ve never seen guys snog timidly – gently – the way most try to kiss me for the first time. Boys snog more quickly, more passionately, almost angrily. Even reluctant straight ones.
And now if you could just take off your pants…
Of course sometimes, if I’m really lucky, it will develop into something else. I’ve been with a few guys who are willing to snog but no more – they’ll do it to make me happy then take me home and bang me with the force of someone trying to show how much they like girls.
But some of them are willing to go that bit further. Some will pull a boy and realise that perhaps boys aren’t so icky after all. Maybe this one will rub up against the other a bit. Perhaps he’ll start getting hard. Perhaps he’ll let me take off his trousers so the other guy can get a good, tight hold of his dick.
Even if that doesn’t happen, the promise of it is still there during their kiss. So whether I’m taking pictures on the sidelines or trying to crowbar myself in between them so they crush me with the force of their boylust, I’m grateful for every lip-locked minute.
I understand that not everyone’s into it. Not all straight guys are willing to get as stuck into another dude as they are into a woman. But honestly? If you are I’ll love you twice as much for it.
If you’ll pull a guy with the same force and passion as you’d pull me… If you’ll kneel down and suck on his cock like you want to draw all the spunk right out of him… If you’ll let him climb on top of you and bang you with quick, hard, grunting strokes while I lie underneath and feel the force pushing your cock deeper inside me… If you’ll do all of that then I will melt and drool and tremble and then fuck you until you have no fuck left.
On boywanking: masturbation tips courtesy of men I’ve fucked
It breaks my heart to think that, at this very minute, thousands of men are beating one out yet only a very small percentage of them will be videoing the event to share with the internet or a loved one. Boywanking is hot. And not just hot like ‘ooh, that’s nice’ but hot like ‘I think I might have to sit down for a minute because my legs have just stopped working.’ So I thought I’d share some of the sexy masturbation tips men I’ve known (in the Biblical sense) have shared with me…
On my sexy Christmas wish: a casual gang bang
A while ago I asked people for their sexy Christmas wishes. What sexual favours did they want for Christmas? Things they wouldn’t normally get but would normally get wet for. Only one person replied, which I can only assume means you’re either all prudes or you’re all already so sexually satisfied that nothing short of a jizzbomb to the face would satisfy your devious ends.