This delicious story about asking to get fucked with knickers on is written and read by the fabulous Molly Moore, and originally appeared on her website. 

“Stop” he says. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my knickers off,” I reply over my shoulder.

“Well don’t,” he responds and I can hear the slight husk in his throat that tells me he means it. I stop what I am doing. Straightening the lace back over my hips and bum, I then turn to face him.

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I remember very vividly the first sexy daydream I had about a boy. I felt myself growing hot and tense inside before experiencing a release of arousal as the daydream came to climax. Not a real climax, sadly I’ve never had the ability to make myself come just by thinking about the right thing. But the right thoughts can trigger something intense, and this was the first time I’d experienced that intensity: the instant, shocking realisation that my mind could make my body do this thing, purely through the power of imagination. It was way more graphic than the purely cerebral lust I’d felt for guys in the past. When I talk about this feeling on the blog, I often refer to it as that ‘kick in the gut’ of lust. Or the unngh moment. Some fantasies might press a few buttons in your mind, sparking ideas and feelings that you want to follow up later, but these particular sexy dreams and daydreams are on another level: they kick me in the gut. Give me that unngh.

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This fabulous erotic vignette is written and read by Robyn of RobynEatsEverything.

All I want for my birthday is a fat load of your cum to ice my face like a cake.

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This glorious post is written and read by Joy As It Flies.

I want more. I want all of you, all of it. Everything you have to give, every inch of it. I want every pore, every wrinkle, every drop of sweat and tear and come. I want the hair and ink and breath of you.

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Sometimes – very rarely – I will meet a man so filthy that within five minutes I am dreaming of the bad things I want to do to him. That kind of lust is a gutpunch – an instant hit of horn that has me weak and drooling. But that kind is not as common, or as real to me, as lust that grows slowly.

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