Tag Archives: true
Prosecco and coconut oil – we made a real mess
This story is part 2 of ‘The Virgin and the Escort’ – written and read by Ariadne Awakes. “For my 40th birthday, I decided to treat myself to my favourite thing: you. I bought the whip and the spreader; you bought prosecco and coconut oil…”
Things that aren’t horny but totally feel horny
Sometimes I wonder if I’m horny or if life just deals out a bunch of sensations that kind of feel horny even though they’re not technically stimulating the sexy bits. In no particular order (and with an invitation to add your own in the comments), here are some things that aren’t horny but feel horny. You’ll get what I mean.
Vaginal inspection: the most intimate thing I ever did
This isn’t sexy. OK, it might be sexy. If you like cunts. But then if you like cunts, the way I write about them is going to seem bizarre and maybe even horrible to you. So I may well be about to take something you find sexy and absolutely ruin it. Here goes: I am disgusted by the inside of my body, and therefore I’m disgusted by my cunt, and so what I’m about to tell you is the most intimate thing I have ever done.
This post about vaginal inspection involves extreme and sometimes gross/shamey descriptions of the human body, especially (obviously) the vagina.
The first stroke: making one fuckstroke last as long as possible
Once, I asked him to give me the first stroke as slowly as he possibly could. Prolong that initial shot of cock for as long as humanly possible. From the moment the head of his dick touched the wet lips of my cunt to the final stretch as it nudged against my cervix: make the first stroke of that fuck really fucking last.
Nothing – tied up and used
This fabulous post about being tied up and used is written and read by Joy As It Flies.
I have been watching too much porn lately: I’m pointlessly horny. I text the Adorable Sadist saying I’ve been dreaming all day about him tying me up, gagging me, and then using my mouth, tits and arse for despicable purposes. When I get home he is lying on my bed waiting for me. We cuddle and joke around for a little bit, then he asks me to say out loud what I’d written in the text. So I do, in a quiet, slightly hesitant voice. I’m not sure why asking for this stuff is embarrassing, but it is.