Category Archives: Filthy ones
I’m horny and everything looks like fucking
I’m horny and so everything I see looks like fucking. The boots that are lying jumbled in the corner of my bedroom look like a quick, bent-over fuck over an office desk. The couple snogging on the corner look like fucking. The hot guy behind the bar at the local pub with his raised eyebrow and tight t-shirt: he always looks like fucking, but even more so today. I’d normally seethe about the guys on the train playing music loudly from their tinny phone speakers, but they look like fucking right now too.
Restrain me with door cuffs and make me fucking beg for it
I’m kind of obsessed with door cuffs at the moment. Simple velcro handcuffs that come attached to short metal poles, which you use by hooking them over the door. They mean you can effectively tie someone’s wrists up high while you tease them, and my partner uses them to make me beg for it.
The girth issue: why I miss anal fucking
Most of my sex fantasies include some anal fucking somewhere: pushing back against someone’s cock to slide it all the way in… being told I’m a ‘good girl’ for taking something bigger than I usually would… or just being told to lube up and brace myself. Unnngh… hot. And yet despite this I can’t remember the last time I actually had anal sex.
Understanding my desires via a Game of Thrones threesome
Most people who have watched Game of Thrones have a favourite character: specifically one they’d most like to fuck. If yours is Danaerys or Jon Snow, you’re more than welcome to them. Personally I’ve a bit of a soft spot for Ygritte, and an incredibly wet spot for Oberyn Martell. But two other characters do it for me faster than the Hound devouring a roomful of chicken, and I would give my soul for the chance at a Game of Thrones threesome that starred my two faves: Tyrion and Bronn.
Strap me to a table and give me as a gift
This post is heavily BDSM-focused, and includes things like extreme pain, spanking, humiliation and some themes of consensual non-consent. If that’s not your thing please don’t read on. If that is your thing, welcome to the inside of my head…
This Christmas I want to be your gift to someone else. Tied up tight in rope instead of ribbon. Bent, spread, and sworn to silence. I want you to strap me with a belt to make me meek and compliant, prepare me so I look just how you want me to: then I want you to give me to someone else.