Snippet one comes to me almost in a dream – that edge of wakefulness where you’re aware that you might still be dozing, but the solid feel of your own hand on your skin trips a neuron that reminds you of fucks-in-times-gone-by. In this cock-hungry fantasy, I’m face-down-ass-up on the carpet, in my bra and pants, covered in smears of paint. Someone’s got the crotch of my knickers hooked to one side with his thumb, and he’s sliding himself oh so slowly inside me, growling that I’m a dirty fucking girl.

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This fabulous post about being tied up and used is written and read by Joy As It Flies.

I have been watching too much porn lately: I’m pointlessly horny. I text the Adorable Sadist saying I’ve been dreaming all day about him tying me up, gagging me, and then using my mouth, tits and arse for despicable purposes. When I get home he is lying on my bed waiting for me. We cuddle and joke around for a little bit, then he asks me to say out loud what I’d written in the text. So I do, in a quiet, slightly hesitant voice. I’m not sure why asking for this stuff is embarrassing, but it is.

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It’s hard to conceptualise cock worship as a kink in and of itself, because I already love your cock. The idea of specifically setting down to ‘worship’ it feels as odd to me as collective prayer might feel to a person whose spirituality resonates in everything they do. Worship your cock? What, specifically and deliberately? I already live in a state of low-level cock worship even when it isn’t in my mouth.

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This fabulous post about watching her partner suck cock on New Year’s Eve is written and read by Joy As It Flies.

Their cock is a thing of beauty. Just the right length, the perfect thickness, wrapped in his fist and then, when he drops it, landing hard and heavy on the pale expanse of their belly. He lies on his front between their open legs, and as he lowers his head he closes his eyes. They’re rimmed in kohl, dark and wet and glittering with intent, and as he opens his mouth to lick their length his painted lashes flicker against his cheekbones.

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OK so hear me out: ten condom fucks. Fucks which require a large number of condoms. Fucks which start at about 2pm, are interspersed with drinks and chatting and playing Beat Saber and slow-dancing sexily in the middle of the living room. Fucks which ebb and flow between oral, penetration, and naked touching, meaning each time you decide you’re gonna get down to it, you slip on a new condom. Fucks which mean you have to scatter condoms throughout the apartment so there’s always one easily to hand. Ten condom fucks.

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