Girl on the Net

There are certain TV shows that make for awesome foreplay. Your choice of show will depend on your style and desires, but I’m sure you know the kind I mean: those which consistently give you flashes of horny fuck scenes that will play on your mind long after the credits roll. This week’s awesome guest blog is about a single scene in one of those shows. When he originally pitched it to me, I remembered the exact moment – “slap me” – from the mouth of a character who wouldn’t usually be submissive. And it gave me echoes of the horn that I felt when I’d watched that show too. I only wish I could have taken the cum-trigger hotness of it and put it into practice as spectacularly as this…

Slap me. Do it.

We are watching Mad Men for the second time round. Boring middle aged stereotypes. Both of us appalled, entertained and turned on in equal measure by Don Draper’s confusing blend of extraordinary hotness, vulnerability and utter misogyny. A man so simultaneously charming, awful and almost unbearably handsome.

There’s a slight space after gorging on sex scenes in such dramas. He is invariably treating a woman appallingly, cheating on his current partner for the 78th time, and generally just being a bastard. The sex is always bad (as in good) before they return to their good (as in bad) lives. So we sit and watch and get a bit horny because… well… it’s Don Draper, and suits, and Old Fashioneds. And Betty and Joan and so much wrongness.

It’s a Season 4 episode called Public Relations. Don is seeing Candace, a red headed escort. She doesn’t have a great deal of time for him, and he wants to be used. It’s almost perfunctory for her, but this is what he wants: for her to not give a shit about him at all. She’s riding him and he tells her to keep her bra on.

“Stop telling me what to do — I know what you want,” she says.

“So do it.” he says. And then she slaps him. He gives her a look that’s somewhere between petulance and gratitude.

“Again. Harder.” The alpha-est of men asking – begging – to relinquish his dominance. We don’t see how it ends. This is not porn – they’re about power and release.

After watching the episode, we’re in bed: my wife and I. The fantasy 1960s has passed and midweek domestic life resumes. But there’s a residual determined horniness, and she reaches over to feel my cock. There’s no kissing or tenderness: it’s not caressing.

I respond instantly, filling her grip almost immediately. This is not going to be affectionate sex. I am pipe hard and she climbs onto me. She’s wet, but not slick, she wants to feel the resistance. She pushes down until I am fully inside her. She moves, with her hands pressing on my chest, grinding her clit into me. My hands gripping her the tops of her thighs, my thumbs pressing toward her cunt. I love her on top, and want to suck on her boobs, but this is not my ride. I am being ridden, and she shoves me back, pushing herself down deeper onto my cock. I am looking at her, but she’s thinking about someone else.

I wonder who.

I look into her eyes and say “slap me.”

She’s not sure if she heard me right, this is new. It almost breaks the moment, so I say it again.

“Slap me. Do it.”

She does. Gently first. I say, “harder,” and she does, with slightly gritted teeth, and the surge in my cock tells me one thing: I’m not in control here at all and this isn’t going to last long. She knows it – you will cum when I want you to.

The next slap comes moments later, timed because she knows precisely what will happen. I am absolutely, breathlessly incapable of holding back, surges of cum rippling out of my cock. And she chuckles and pushes down, clamping her cunt onto me and cumming herself, gripping my chest.

I am used. She looks pleased. I am in awe.

Thanks Don, you handsome bastard.