Category Archives: Filthy ones
So you wanna be a very good boy?
A while ago I wrote a post about how – and why – I love being called a ‘good girl.’ Someone told me recently I should write a pair post about ‘good boy’ and naturally I always aim to do what the fuck I’m told, so here goes. I have frequently used the word ‘good boy’ when I’m fucking someone, but as I’m not naturally very dominant, my reasons for using it and the ways in which I use it may well be very different to your own. Nevertheless, here’s how to get a ‘good boy’ out of me.
Note: this post is quite cisnormative, sorry about that. So far all the good boys I’ve fucked have been cisgender. Just be aware that you don’t need to be cis to be a good boy, and I’ve tried to include some non-dick-focused activities in here as well as the more cock-heavy ones.
Fucking: A poem about how much I love fucking
Sometimes I sit down and try to write something good, but nothing good springs to mind so instead I write a 400 word poem about fucking. Enjoy! Or don’t! It’s entirely pointless and silly!
Fuck me like you mean it: 42 different ways to say ‘fuck me’
“Don’t call me ‘good girl’ unless you plan on fucking the Mario coins out of me.” Ever since I saw that excellent, excellent tweet, I’ve been thinking about hot new ways to ask someone to fuck me. Seriously: ‘Fuck the Mario coins out of me’ has to be up there as one of the best fuckbegs I’ve ever heard. Gold. I cannot promise to do quite as well as that (who could?!), but with big thanks to those on Twitter who chipped in, I’m aiming for quantity in lieu of quality. Here are 42 different ways to ask someone to fuck you.
I killed the mood but he brought it back
Partway through a fuck, I realise something’s not quite right, and I mention it. BAM! I have killed the mood. I’m annoyed with myself and a little disappointed so I tell him. We stop shagging. We hug. We sweat. I say “sorry” a few more times, because “sorry” is the word I instinctively reach for when I have nothing else to say. “Stop saying sorry,” he tells me. “Stop saying you killed the mood.” But I can’t stop saying it, I’m stuck in a loop of it, and I don’t know how to escape. There are two paths open to him here…
What happens at the end of No Nut November
I’m not a fan of No Nut November (the month-long challenge where people try not to wank for reasons that vary from ‘fine’ to ‘oh God please stop spewing falsehoods about wanking harming your brain’). I like wanking and I dislike people who try to make others feel ashamed or broken because they enjoy a hand shandy. However, there is one huge benefit to the end of No Nut November that I haven’t yet dwelled upon for fear I’ll end up trapped in a horn spiral for the whole of lockdown. Namely: how much fucking jizz there’ll be when everyone who is partaking in it joins a massive beat-one-out party at 12:01 on December 1st.