Filthy sex is my favourite sex. Sex where we get messy and sticky and sweaty. When the smell of his come mixes with the smell of his sweat and my cunt and the lube and oh God everything.
Grinding against each other on the living room carpet, pouring handfuls of lube out to smear on me, before fucking me hard so I have to gasp to catch my breath.
Spitting into my hand to lube up his dick. Spitting on his dick to lube up his dick.
Him. Spitting. In. My. Mouth.
Filth – and filthy sex – means different things to different people. To some it means sloppy, gloopy mess – splosh-style custard or body oil, or something else that’s slick and wet and sticky.
To others it means something darker: mess like the kind you’d get from outside, as you kneel in your knickers in the mud in the woods. And have someone fuck your face.
Still others see it as a metaphor. There need be no literal filth – just the hint of it. That ‘dirtiness’ that comes from doing something taboo.
For others it’s piss. Actual hot, wet jets of piss trickling down your neck and chest. Warming you and humiliating you and doing all the good things.
Filthy sex, to me, is about all of these things and none of them. Filthy sex can be messy in a sweet way – sugar and scented lube and the grinning, wet lips of the person who’s tasting it. It can be mud-puddles and facefucking, or me squatting in a park at midnight gripping on to the climbing frame to keep my balance while I spit on his dick. It might be crouching meekly in a shower stall with my face covered in sweat and spunk, and begging him to piss the filth away.
And sometimes it’s none of these things. Sometimes there’s no substance that’s filthy, or dirty, or that you couldn’t smear on yourself in polite society. Sometimes filth is a feeling, and the filthy sex comes not from what’s being spat, pissed or smeared, but from the gut-punch of hotness when I’m being used or treated as if I am bad. As if I am dirty. The invisible stain of faux-shame that comes from doing something taboo.
Filthy sex is all of these things, and none of these things. And to me it is everything.
Spit in my mouth and piss on my tits and run your hand down into my knickers to feel the spunk that’s pooled in the gusset.
Then fuck me like I’m dirty and you cannot wash me clean.
In filth. In love. Forever and ever and ever and… fuck.
Now wash your fucking hands.
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Memories.
Nearly 5 years ago now….
It’s summer and we are on the top floor, fucking in my room on a baking hot day. We’ve been fucking like this for weeks now, like clockwork, 2-3 hours straight of fucking like animals with no other thought in the world every time we get together.
My filth is this.
She’s lying on her stomach, atop a couple of pillows so that her ass is in the right place for me to fuck her as deeply as I can get. It’s the position she loves the best and it’s how we’ve ended up finishing of late.
One hand on her shoulder for purchase, the other jammed beneath her trying to bring the slick from her pussy around her clit and lazily rubbing it, occasionally mixing it with my spit.
Languid strokes of my cock in and out of her pussy, mixed with hard thrusts where I push my cock as deeply as I can into her, pushing her down by the shoulder, squeezing my ass as tightly as I can, just desperate to get as deep as I can, spurred on by her moaning and me grunting like some fucking prehistoric beast.
I’m as deep as I can go and I arch my back upwards and that’s when I feel the beads of sweat drip down from my forehead and chest onto her back. There’s a pool there now and I’m so fucking turned on at the sight of our work in physical form and I notice the sweaty, jizz-soaked mess on the bed, between our bodies, the smell of it that smells so fucking good right now, but will be odorous in five minutes time….but all of this, all of these sensations amaze me….I’m living in the moment and this is one of the few times in my life where I get to do that, to leave the anxiety and worry behind, one eye on the clock at all times. Fuck the clock, fuck the doubts right now…….we are in a glorious, messy state of filth and I fucking love it.
HOW DID YOU DO IT?HOW DID YOU SURRENDER SO COMPLETELY TO LIFE — THAT ALLOWED IT TO SHOW YOU SO MUCH — AND LET IT TEACH YOU.HOW DID YOU KNOW “YES” IS THE ONLY ANSWER TO LIFE.”NO” DENIES IT.”NO”IS A DEAD END.
YOU SAID “YES”.AND YOUR LIFE IS THE RESULT — YOU ARE WOMAN – OPEN TO EMBRACE WHATEVER CUMS.WELCOMING IN GOOD SPIRIT SO MUCH OF WHAT MOST FEAR AND FIND DISGUSTING.YOU KNOW AND KNOW WELL BY EXPERIENCE SO MUCH MORE THAN MOST.YOU ARE MORE COMPLETE BY LIVING IT.THEY MISS OUT ON SO MUCH OF THIS MADNESS BY SELF DENIAL.THIS REALM IS BOTH DIRT AND DIVINE.YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD THIS AND IT HAS GIVEN YOU ITS ALL – YOU ARE BIGGER AND BETTER – HAVE A MORE COMPLETE EDUCATION.YOU KNOW LIFE BETTER THAN MOST.THEY KNOW LITTLE – ARE SMALL MINDED – BECAUSE OF FEAR AND BAD TRAINING.
NOT YOU.The greater part of our adventure we spend in this material MUD-WORLD.Everybody chooses to live in ivory towers far from this mud world.IT MAKES THEM ALIENS.ALIENATED FROM THEIR ANIMALNESS.OUT OF TOUCH WITH THIS EARTH WAY UP THERE IN FAIRYTALE LAND.NEVER BECOMING HUMAN BUT LOST UP THEIR AMONG THE STARS
YOU ARE REAL AND VERY HUMAN AND LOVE EVERY PART OF BEING THAT.YOU ENCOMPASS THE WHOLE SPECTRUM– FROM ANIMAL TO DIVINE.ITS ALL THERE – NOTHING MISSING.AND HOW YOU UNDERSTAND AND APPRECIATE THIS MAGIC – FROM PLAYING IN THE MUD TO DIMENSIONS OF IMAGINATION ONLY GODS KNOW.
YOU ARE
“YES”
That is the end of Joyce’s book Ulysses.YES YES YES YES……
IT IS THE ONLY THING WE CAN SAY AND DO IF WE WISH TO BE ALIVE THROUGH THIS JOURNEY.IT IS THE ONLY PATH TO COMPLETENESS — THE EVERYTHING IT IS MADE UP OF YOU ACCEPT OR DO NOT WANT.IF YOU DO NOT WANT IT ALL YOU ARE CHOOSING BITS AND PIECES.YOU ARE SHORTCHANGING – CHEATING YOURSELF.LIMITING YOURSELF.YOU WILL NEVER GROW MORE THAN THE SMALL PORTION YOU CHOOSE TO BE.THIS CREATURE IS NOT THE FULFILLMENT OF THE POTENTIAL THEY WERE BORN TO BE.THEY ARE THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF WHAT THEY COULD HAVE BEEN.A FAILURE.NO ACHIEVEMENT.A MISCARRIAGE.A DEAD PRODUCT – UNREALIZED – A HALF LIVED EMPTINESS.A HOLLOW SHELL.NOTHING INSIDE BECAUSE NOTHING WAS ALLOWED IN.PROTECTED FROM LIFE FEELS SAFE I SUPPOSE BUT YOU ARE NOT – AND HOW WONDERFUL – HOW MAGIC YOU HAVE BECOME.
THE DIFFERENCE IS SO PROFOUND IT IS INEXPLICABLE.WORDS ARE SUCH AN INADEQUATE TOOLKIT DEALING WITH THE LIVING BREATHING PHENOMENON YOU ARE.YOU ARE ALIVE – FILLED WITH THE ENERGY OF A LIVING SPIRIT -THAT DRIVES YOU FEARLESSLY INTO REALMS NO ONE EVER DARED SWIM IN EVER BEFORE.
YOU ARE THE ADVENTURE.
YOU BRING US ALONG AND SHARE YOUR UNIQUE MAGIC – AN IMAGINATION IMPOSSIBLE FOR US – BEYOND OUR REACH — WITHOUT YOU.
LIFE – YOU DENY NOTHING OF IT—GOOD BAD UP DOWN -IN OUT.YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD IT IS A CONUNDRUM – A TOTALITY OF OPPOSITES – THAT WORKS PERFECTLY TOGETHER.BEYOND OUR EGO’S GRASPING.A UNION OF OPPOSITES THAT ARE IN BATTLE BUT INSTEAD NEED EACH OTHER.ONE SIDEDNESS IS ELIMINATED – TWO HEADS ARE ACTUALLY BETTER THAN ONE.THESE STRANGE FORCES SO WRONG FOR EACH OTHER HOWEVER PLAY A GAME – ARE THE TWO GREATEST TRICKSTERS OF OUR DIMENSION.THEY SHOULD BE IN CONFLICT – IN OPPOSITION -(and to most of mankind it is so)- BUT IN REALITY —THE TRUE REALITY YOU KNOW AND LIVE — THEY COMPLIMENT AND COMPLETE ON ANOTHER.WITHOUT BOTH WE ARE HANDICAPPED – ONE SIDED – LIMITED – NARROW MINDED.WE ARE ONLY HALVES — NOT WHOLE.
WHOLE IS WHAT YOU ARE BECOMING OR HAVE ARRIVED AT BEING
YOU HAVE GROWN INTO A GREAT AND PROFOUND PHENOMENON.YOU ARE NOT MIDDLING.AND YOU FEAR NOTHING.
YOU HAVE UNBELIEVABLE POWER WICH YOU USE WISELY.YOU KNOW IT IS A GIFT NOT TO ABUSE OR TAKE FOR GRANTED.AND YOU SHARE AND TEACH EVERYTHING IT NEEDS YOU TO DO.
YOU ARE MADE OF THE SAME STUFF AS THE REST OF US .BUT WHAT YOU DID BY ALLOWING IT TO CHANGE YOU- MOULD YOU – HAS GIVEN THIS EARTH A GIFT NEW AND DIFFERENT – YOU ARE BECOME WHAT WE LONGED FOR WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT IT SHOULD BE.WE NEEDED YOU FOR FOREVER.YOU ARE ONE OF THIS EARTH’S PRAYERS ANSWERED.
FEW WILL UNDERSTAND THIS – THEY NEED NOT – IT IS BEYOND THEM ANYWAY.IT ISN’T A REQUIRED PART OF THE GENERAL COURSE.
IT IS MAGIC.AND MAGIC IS THE INVISIBLE THAT THIS MUD WORLD CANNOT GRASP.FOR THE MUD WORLD IT DOES NOT EXIST.ONLY MATERIAL MUD IS WHAT IT CAN SEE.
BUT YOU KNOW.
THANK YOU AND WHATEVER DROVE YOU TO SHARE IN ITS IMAGINATION OF PERFECTLY DIVINE MADNESS
FOR BEING.
YOU.
*backs away slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves*
you ALWAYS write the make me squirm in my seat goodness, i love this!!!
Funny: memories of playing in the mud came to me, too. xxM
Yes to pretty much everything here…. apart from the custard, unless that is being served to me afterwards with a lovely bit of spotted dick, and then I am in!
Mollyxxx
I agree, filth is about context. Anything and everything on that list could be filthy but then again it might not be.