Category Archives: Filthy ones
Watching your dick slide in: brand new angles
I know how much you like watching your dick slide in. I know it because I love watching you, in turn: on your knees above me, your eyes downcast as you focus on sliding it slowly inside, occasionally glancing up to look at my reaction as each inch of your aching erection stretches and fills up my cunt. But you can never quite get the right angle, can you? You can never quite get your face close enough to see the detail – the wetness that clings to the skin of your cock, for instance. You never get to see it from a distance other than the exact length of your torso: no more, no less. What’s more, neither of us ever get to see it from behind – how the prominent ridge on the underside looks bold and hard and beautiful, like it does in porn. There’s a solution for that now, though, isn’t there?
Thoroughly fucked: what is the most fucked you can be?
Got pretty thoroughly fucked the other day. And I choose the word ‘thoroughly’ carefully and with precision. This was a very thorough fuck.
Sex machine adventures: DVP with a fuckmachine
One plus one does not always equal two. Sure, if we’re talking standard stuff like apples and oranges, one plus one definitely equals two and I’d be a weird conspiracy theorist if I tried to persuade you otherwise. You have one apple in a bag, you add another, you have two apples. True. But if the things you’re counting are dicks, and the place you’re putting them is my vagina: one dick plus another equals a hell of a lot more than two. Let’s talk DVP with a fuckmachine.
Whip me, fuck me, distract me
When he asked me what I wanted, as my reward for winning the game, I think he expected me to demand pleasure. Orgasms, delivered by hand and vibrator, or his wet lips wrapped round my nipples. Maybe a good, hard fuck bent over the sofa. Instead I asked him for pain. “Whip me,” I told him.
Note, this post makes references to That Fucking Virus and These Weird Times.
Porn with no plot: getting turned on when there’s no story
“What was the plot of that porn, then?” He asks me, twenty seconds after we’ve both come. We’re sitting side-by-side on the sofa, him covered in spunk and me casually discarding the dildo and Zumio I used to get there myself. On the TV the porn scene we were watching still plays: porn with no plot, just a couple of people having a vigorous and sexy shag. He reaches for the controller to switch it off as I try to put into words what ‘the plot of that porn’ really was.