Girl on the Net

We all know soaking is filthy, right? For the uninitiated, ‘soaking‘ is a sexual practice attributed to horny Mormons. The logic goes that having sex before marriage is forbidden, but it’s only technically – technically – sex if you actually move it in and out, so you’re allowed to put it in if you make sure to stay really still. Thus, horny Mormon couples who really really want to put it in do exactly that, then lie as still as they possibly can to ensure they don’t summon the wrath of the heavens.

This post is likely to be thoroughly blasphemous and probably offensive if you have religious sensibilities. It’s also going to embrace shame in a way that totally works for kink but does not work as the basis to build a society. Sex is not shameful, but shame makes things filthy. And soaking? Soaking is the filthiest thing since Genesis. 

This particular horny train of thought is brought to you by two things. Firstly, having not had sex for quite a while, and been effectively turning my mind to other matters whenever I found myself getting horny, I eventually got stuck in to some fucking and it was like a dam had burst. Now, when I’m meant to be emailing sponsors and sorting out my Patreon rewards, I find myself hurtling down horny rabbit holes because my brain can’t focus on anything other than the throbbing ache in my cunt. Secondly, this tweet:

I love when people first learn about crap like this pic.twitter.com/TBietB9LQg

— Jeff (@JeffWantPoppers) September 25, 2021

This is a picture of someone purportedly jumping on a bed next to two people who are soaking, so that the soakers jiggle and move and can kind of get off even though they aren’t technically moving themselves. And lo, my cunt runneth over.

Soaking is filthy because ‘forbidden’ is hot

The first time I heard about soaking I, like many people, assumed it was a joke. And even now I doubt the practice is widespread for anything other than joke or kink purposes: surely no one can genuinely believe that sex doesn’t ‘count’ if you don’t move? I’m extremely lazy submissive in bed, so if ‘just lying there/being tied up there and not moving means it doesn’t count as sex’ there are at least a couple of guys I should cross off my ‘victory’ list. More importantly, I cannot see how Jesus would be angry at you for having sex before marriage, yet somehow completely OK with soaking: an objectively kinky, depraved, beautiful, throbbingly horny act.

You want to put your hard dick in me? Then forbid me to move? Unngh. Yeah. Soaking is filthy.

You also need to lie completely still because if you move even slightly you might get pleasure, and that might make God angry with the pair of us? Fuck yeah.

We’ll just lie here together, skin-to-skin, utterly burning with lust and guilt and shame and the desperate urge to move just a tiny bit, but stoic in the face of our devotion to the Lord we gather up the shreds of our fuck-tattered willpower and muster the inner strength to stay still?

Then every time you breathe in, your chest moves and shifts against mine, and I can feel my nipples pressing taut and hard against you, and yours against me. I breathe in deeply too, to try and mask the subtle shift I’m making with my body, sliding my cunt an infinitesimal amount to better get a grip on your dick. I clench my cunt, and hope I can get away with you thinking it was involuntary.

You twitch your dick in response – deliberate or accidental? Maybe I’ll never know. You don’t tell me, because to speak is to move, and moving is forbidden. So we breathe deeply, the two of us, breath hot in each other’s ears and wetness, hardness thrumming between our legs. I stare at the ceiling above you and bite my lip and hurt hurt hurt for want of fucking you.

But we’re not fucking, we’re soaking, because fucking is forbidden. So when things get too much and the pain of not-fucking begins to outweigh the terror of being condemned, with a strangled, desperate cry you call your roommate over and have them come bounce on the fucking bed till you spunk in my cunt.

They call it ‘soaking’ because that’s what my knickers are right now.

Shame is bad and shame is sexy

And yes, I know: we absolutely need to banish shame from our society, and while religion may not have a total monopoly on sexual shame, it’s certainly got plenty of hotels stacked on Mayfair and Park Lane. Fundamentally, practices like soaking come tied up with some really horrible shit, leaning as they do on the damaging concept of ‘virginity’ and the idea that you’re somehow sullied if you have sex before God says you’re allowed. So I do not condone the damaging attitudes that lead to practices like this, and in the real world we should be striving for a society which welcomes sexual freedom and banishes sexual shame.

But also. Also. Soaking is filthy. I cannot believe that anyone who has ever either done or considered it does not understand the red-hot power of ‘forbidden’, and how much higher that temperature dial is turned if you’re forbidden from moving while your junk is already tessellating.

If people insist on doing something this fucking kinky, at the absolute least I will have a blasphemous wank about it.

The image for this piece was originally created for a fiction piece I wrote called ‘Think of England.’ You might enjoy it if you like this sort of thing, you raging pervert.