Girl on the Net

I’m pretty bad at dominance. I enjoy being domme occasionally, and there’s certainly an incredibly satisfying something about making a guy angrily horny and desperate to come, then saying ‘nope’, and walking away while he lies whimpering in a sexy heap. Usually I prefer to be the one doing the whimpering – it’s more fun to tremble in excited anticipation of what might be done to you than to tremble in terror that your “who’s a naughty boy then?” will be met with a snort of derisive laughter. So I was delighted when someone sent me this guest post, in which she provides what I can only very rarely attempt: some super-hot sexy writing with the girl very much on top. From our anonymous Africa correspondent, here’s some female dominance, a hate fuck, and a massive dollop of rage…

Hate fuck for capitalism

What’s a good horny lefty to do in a city filled with rampant capitalism?

A hot man, sat in the courtyard of my hotel, reading a book. It was nearly Christmas. And nearly six months since I’d got laid. I suddenly believed in Santa Claus.

I wandered over. ‘Hello are you here for the conference?’ (knowing damn well he wasn’t)

He told me he worked for a mining company. I accused him of destroying the planet. Apparently I also asked him how he slept at night, though I have no recollection of this.

I was probably too busy fantasising about him not sleeping at all, his legs wrapped around mine.

It’s warm here, men wear shorts. And he had fine, fine legs. And, you know, six months with no sex.

I had a dilemma. I wanted him. I hated everything he represented. But I wanted him.

Despite the scorn & contempt expressed, the lust must have been clear; he asked for my phone number. We arranged to meet when back on home ground. Maybe being talked to as if he was a lowly worm was what he wanted. He called.

And thus I rediscovered the delights of the hate fuck.

I end up on top when I’m hate fucking, literally and metaphorically. This is how it happened:

We met for dinner and spent most of it swapping sex stories. He told me about his Icelandic ex and their tradition of women’s day, a man is expected to do whatever is asked of him. They had gone out for a meal and she told him to come to the bathroom of the restaurant with her to fuck. He complied.

I briefly considered the place we were in – squat toilets only, complete with cockroaches. This could wait.

We went back to his flat, he asked if I wanted the tour, we got to the bedroom and BAM. We were kissing, angry kissing from me. A stab with the tongue. A hint of threatened teeth. His cock was hard up against me and I pushed against it, against him and against everything I hated.

I pushed him onto the bed.

I wanted him bound and helpless, I can’t incapacitate capital but for a few hours I could smash his system.

I was the boss. He stripped, to order. Lay back, to order.

And at that point the power went out. As we both cursed the electric company he found and lit a candle. And I had a new weapon in my armoury.

I ordered him to fetch ice. Watched his naked form leave the room and return, cock rock hard.

So pretty, over 10 years younger than me, fit, tanned, gorgeous. I wavered, just at this point, wanting to be held and stroked and loved.

Then I looked round the extremely plush room that my entire apartment would fit into and remembered that mass exploitation and pollution had paid for it.

From wanting to make love, I wanted to walk out of there. But, six months with no sex and extremely sexy naked man. With a very hard cock. And ice. And a candle.

I’m not proud, I was horny.

The knots I tied him with were tighter than was comfortable. The wax I dripped on him was hotter than was safe, the ice applied slightly delayed. I wanted to hurt him. I did.

Then I rode him, grinding onto him until I came, again and again.

Not letting him come.

For hours.

When I finally untied him he wrapped himself around me from behind and kissed my neck.

And I melted inside, the anger swept away.

You can hate fuck, you can shower in the morning¹ and walk away.

What I’ll remember is that tender kiss.

Humans are complicated.²

¹I actually showered when I get home as the water at his place was out when we woke.

²Complicated enough that we fucked again a couple of months later and I’m planning one last one before I leave here.

If you enjoyed this post you can find more femdom stories here, and more sexy guest blogs here.