Category Archives: Filthy ones
Fake orgasms for kicks: I want you to come in my cunt
I want you to come in my cunt. I want to feel the twitches of your dick and the rush of liquid pouring out of it. And I really can feel it, you know. Hard. Especially when you’ve got a raging erection and plenty of spunk to give, the release as you pump it deep inside me is the most delicious feeling. I want you to come in my cunt. I want it so much that sometimes I’ll fake orgasms to make it happen.
Massive Dildo Orgy: fucked with four cocks
Intimidation is hard to distinguish from excitement, especially when the two so often come hand in hand. That look you shoot me which says ‘you’re in trouble’ can sometimes make the blood drain from my face, tricking me into thinking I’m afraid, before the flood converges in my beating crotch, reminding me that this only happens because I really really want it to.
Public transport sex fantasies: how many can I get in one story?
Maybe it’s the rhythm of the train as it clunk-clunks over the tracks, or the hum of the bus engine beneath your seat, but public transport’s fucking sexy, isn’t it? I’ve probably spent almost as much time talking about public transport sex fantasies than any other category. So as this week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt is ‘passenger’, asking us to think about erotic scenarios on buses, trains and planes, I thought I’d go the whole hog and write a sex story about every stage of the journey.
All the times I definitely did not fuck in that hot tub
“Greetings friends! Welcome to this lovely rented lodge! Isn’t it gorgeous? And we got it for such a bargain! Just call me the Queen Of Booking Getaways That Just Happen To Have Hot Tubs. It’s so lovely to hang out with like-minded people, who all know there’s far more fun to be had in a house with people you love than a hotel where you could bump into a stranger at any minute. Before we kick off this mini-break by opening the prosecco, there’s just one thing I’d like to make clear: we might have arrived two hours before you did, but we definitely didn’t fuck in that hot tub.”
A daydream about getting spanked with a hairbrush
He’s never really spanked me with a hairbrush. Hasn’t even picked it up from my dressing table while I’m peering into the mirror to do eyeliner, then delivered a playful, thudding whack onto my jeans-clad bum before we leave on a night out. But that doesn’t mean a girl can’t dream.
This post contains corporal punishment and elements of consensual non-consent.