Search Results for: lust

Someone else’s story: an angry hate fuck

I’m pretty bad at dominance. I enjoy being domme occasionally, and there’s certainly an incredibly satisfying something about making a guy angrily horny and desperate to come, then saying ‘nope’, and walking away while he lies whimpering in a sexy heap. Usually I prefer to be the one doing the whimpering – it’s more fun to tremble in excited anticipation of what might be done to you than to tremble in terror that your “who’s a naughty boy then?” will be met with a snort of derisive laughter. So I was delighted when someone sent me this guest post, in which she provides what I can only very rarely attempt: some super-hot sexy writing with the girl very much on top. From our anonymous Africa correspondent, here’s some female dominance, a hate fuck, and a massive dollop of rage…

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On what all women want

If I were to distil what I’m trying to say in this blog, in my book, in articles and guest posts I write elsewhere, it’s this:

“Don’t make assumptions about sexuality.”

Don’t assume everyone’s the same. Don’t assume women are all looking for excuses to get out of sex, or that straight men are on a relentless quest to penetrate any female hole. Understand that people are complex, difficult creatures, and if we all acted the same not only would sex and relationships be seven billion times easier, but the world would be an unconscionably boring place.

And yet, when I write an article about female sexuality – that it’s complex, that some of us lust after dark and sordid things, that some women pursue sex with a drive that’s not easily explained by the ‘I’ve got a headache’ narrative – one of the most common responses is this:

“You obviously haven’t met my wife.”

Sigh.

My wife hates sex

I haven’t met your wife, and it’s likely that I won’t. It might be the case that your wife/girlfriend/mate/girl you met down the pub detests sex. It might equally be the case that she wants a very different kind of sex to the one you’ve got on offer.

But I’m not talking about your wife, because I’m not talking about all women. I never am.

I get this criticism a lot, and to be fair I understand why – the things I write here can sometimes sound a bit prescriptive. And I’m confident enough in my own experience to put forward arguments like “women don’t all want X” or “men aren’t always like Y.”

However, there’s a subtle difference here. Just because men and women aren’t all X and Y, that doesn’t mean I’m saying they’re all definitely Z. They might be A or B or even – if they’re particularly filthy – J. In order to agree with me you don’t have to think that all women want exactly the same – that would be illogical, terrifying, and clearly contrary to the experience of any person who has ever met women. All you have to understand is that people, bless their incomprehensible selves, are all different. 

Although it might upset you, some women like sex more than your wife. Some women like sex less than your wife. Some women, if they were married to you, would be a bit pissed off with you moaning on Twitter about how infrequently they want to fuck.

Unique and beautiful snowflakes

Women aren’t all the same. We never have been. Some women will be pretty similar to me in terms of outlook, sexual taste, etc. Others won’t.

I know you know this, of course. Chances are if you’re seeing this just after it’s published you’re a regular reader, subscriber, or someone who follows me on Twitter. You probably understand well the vast spectrum of human sexuality, and that people – no matter what their gender, sexuality, etc – have vastly different and fascinating needs and desires.

I’m not writing this for the people who understand. I’m writing this so that I have a link ready for the next person who doesn’t. So the next time someone says ‘hurr hurr, you haven’t met my wife’ I can send them here, and try to explain.

Just because I like sex doesn’t mean everyone has to. Doesn’t mean everyone does. I might sometimes be clumsy with my words, I might conjure up images that don’t fit with your worldview, but – like every single other blogger out there – I am utterly unqualified to speak for everyone.

On swingers’ club rules and politeness: one time I fucked up

Someone on Twitter has pointed out that this blog is quite disturbing/triggering, because there is an element of non-consent/coercion. Please be aware of this before you start reading. If you’d like any reassurance, know that I am absolutely fine, and this swingers’ club trip happened a long time ago – both me and the guy I went with discussed it afterwards in detail, and established some of our own rules of engagement to go along with the standard swingers club rules, so we could both have a sexier time. 

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Someone else’s story: the lost art of kissing

I’m an impatient sort of person – more interested in shagging than seduction. But I know I don’t speak for everyone, and I also know that there are disproportionately good pleasures to be had in the little things. When I stand still and keep my knickers on for long enough to enjoy the build up, I occasionally find the build up itself pretty erotic, and occasionally quite charming. The following blog on the art of kissing was offered to me by a guy who’ll be known as ‘Digger’, who’d like to remain anonymous (hence why there’s no link!) and it’s all about kissing. It’s lovely.

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Say goodnight: fuck me in my sleep

Despite giving the impression that I go through life humping men on an almost hourly basis, the time when I’m most likely to have sex is just before bed. Not particularly surprising when you consider that I, like most people, have to work during the day, somewhere far enough from the nearest willing boy that I can’t nip out at lunchtime for a post-sandwich quickie.

Sex before bedtime feels like the natural thing to do – you’ve just taken your clothes off, you’re lying next to each other enjoying the skin-on-skin contact and the post-workday sweat as you bury your face in his armpit: of course a lot of sex happens at bedtime.

But do you want to know what’s even better? Sex after bedtime.

Wake me up

I have a rock-solid and trembling desire for guys who wake me up for a fuck. I love the feeling of being stroked and dragged awake at two, three, four o’clock in the morning by a guy with a raging erection and a desperate need to be inside me.

In fact, so acute is my desire for a guy with a hard-on in the middle of the night that I often don’t even need him to fuck me. Just knowing that he’s almost whimperingly desperate has me flooded with lust, and struggling to pretend to keep my eyes closed.

The other night I woke up lying on my stomach. I could feel him running his hand tightly over my arse, smoothing the silk of my knickers into the crack, and sliding his fingers down my crotch through the fabric. The bed was shaking slightly as he rubbed his cock with his other hand.

After a couple of minutes, he pulled my knickers to one side, dipping his fingers into my cunt. When he felt how wet I was, he moaned, and started rubbing himself harder. I lay as still as I could, breath catching occasionally despite my attempts to maintain the illusion of sleep. I wanted him to fuck me.

Sleep sex

He’s done it before – fucked me in my sleep, I mean. Despite my having issued an open challenge (£50 if you can finish without waking me up) he’s never quite got to the end without me moaning and giving away that I’ve been wide awake for a while. But still. The fact that one day he might makes me quiver with desire, and when I twitch into consciousness to find him touching me I can’t help but tense up, and start throbbing, and hope that he’ll roll on top of me and slide his cock inside.

This isn’t one of those creepy ‘I’ll fuck her while she’s asleep just because I fancy it’ things. He doesn’t fuck me in my sleep because he thinks he can get away with it – he does it because I have emphatically and enthusiastically begged him to.

Because the feeling of waking up, woozy and confused and wet and aching at just the moment he slides his dick inside me is so hot it makes me crosseyed.

Tonight I’ll dream of him fucking me in my sleep

But sometimes there’s no release for me at all – and this was one of those times. There was no need for me to battle a sigh of relief as he pulled my knickers to one side and slipped into me, no feeling of satisfaction as he grunted and thrust.

As his hand reached my knickers he just sped up, rubbing his dick harder and faster – holding his breath to avoid making tell-tale noises in the back of his throat as he got closer to coming.

When he was near, he gripped me harder – fingers digging my knickers into the slit of my cunt, feeling the flooding wetness soak through the silk. And then, just as he was about to come, he pulled at the waistband so that they were bunched at the bottom of my buttocks, exposing me just enough as he rolled over, pushed the tip of his cock up against me, and squirted sticky rounds of jizz directly against my skin.

Having finished, with a gentle grunt and a sigh of satisfaction, he absently rubbed it in – covering me in stickiness with quick, solid movements. He pulled up my knickers and gently patted my arse.

“I’ve been awake for a while, you know.”
“I know. You were pretending to be asleep, weren’t you?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Good girl.”

I got almost no sleep of my own that night.

Update 2018: this post is now available as audio porn (click ‘listen now’ above and see more audio porn here). I wanted to add, as I was revisiting it to turn it into audio porn, that this should never ever be taken to mean that any individual might enjoy this like I do. I can only do it, as explained above, because my partner and I have discussed this in a lot of detail and carefully negotiated how we want to do this consensually.