Category Archives: Filthy ones
Send me a cuck (hold me while he fucks me)
Note: this wank tale involves the fetishisation/kinkification of something that I know can be distressing to some people (erectile ‘dysfunction’/delayed (or premature) ejaculation). Know that in real life there is still plenty of fun to be had if you can’t get an erection and coming ‘too soon’ is INCREDIBLY HOT in its own right. However, sometimes things that are distressing can also be hot to kink, and this fantasy about having a horny cuck guy hold my hand while I get fucked by someone else just so happens to lean on that idea.
You can’t fuck me, that’s the foundation of this. Frame ‘can’t’ however you like, but fundamentally it must be based on something you see as a failing, and my subsequent refusal to let you enter my cunt only serves to enhance your shame at not being good enough. You’re unable to fuck me because you can’t get your dick hard, for instance. Or you’re too prone to coming too quickly or not at all. Perhaps your dick isn’t adequate for what I want: you can’t fuck me intensely enough or fast enough or (better) with the firm, slow strokes that leave every atom of my cunt feeling stretched out and rubbed raw.
Solid Gold: I found some fucky music, and also myself
As a general rule I never have enough confidence in my own music taste to recommend what I like to other people. Most of my partners have preferred me to uncritically subsume their own playlists rather than contribute suggestions of my own: they rarely ever let me pick the music. As a result, not only am I suffused with a vague sense of embarrassment when talking about music, I have rarely spent much time actively seeking out new bands. But recently I found a band who make my heart swell with joy, and their latest album gave me powerfully horny ideas. I hope they will forgive me for taking this to such an X-rated place, but I’m gonna talk about Solid Gold by Holy Moly & The Crackers: the fuckiest album I have heard in a very long time.
Bored and ignored: whatcha reading?
This bored and ignored scenario is the next in the wank tales series, which I tried to write up to balance out some of the more aggressive and brutal ones. There’s still a lot of desperation/urgency in this one, but way more consent. In the spectrum of what I tend to find hot, this is at the cutest end.
I’m reading a book. It doesn’t need to be an erotic book, and in fact it’s probably better if it isn’t. Just a book that I’m really absorbed by: perhaps a re-read of one of my favourite page-turners or something brand new by an author I adore. I’m lying across the bed on my stomach with my nose buried in a Kindle. He comes in and lies next to me on the bed.
What I’m looking for
We’ve been chatting on Patreon lately about dating, and today someone asked me what I was looking for. I thought I’d spell it out for you, in the form of a little poem.
Free use secretary 3: Impressing the clients
You know the drill by now: parts one and two had our free use secretary interviewed (and used) then working (and used). Part three is all about showing her off. In this section, she’s not just an executive office toy for her horny and demanding boss – in this part there are clients to impress. Note that this story contains some pretty aggressive misogyny (I have a kink for misogyny! Read that piece if you want to understand a bit more about the stories in this wank tales series), along with choking, free use, groping, casual sexual harassment, spitroasting, dodgy societal tropes about cock size and masculinity, unlubed (or barely lubed) anal and very dubious consent. It is not in any way a recommendation on how to treat people in real life, and should only ever be enjoyed in a safe and consensual playspace, such as inside your head. I am including the most specific and detailed content notes that I possibly can here, so hopefully absolutely no one who reads on will be taken by surprise by what transpires in this scene. As I say: consent in sex writing matters. What’s more, please understand: in real life I’d despise these men, and utterly abhor their behaviour. These fuckpuppets are characters I created – they only exist in my head and on this page. If you choose to invite them into your own head too, I’m going to assume you’re doing that on the full understanding that this is fantasy, not a recipe for real life.