This delicious story about asking to get fucked with knickers on is written and read by the fabulous Molly Moore, and originally appeared on her website. 

“Stop” he says. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my knickers off,” I reply over my shoulder.

“Well don’t,” he responds and I can hear the slight husk in his throat that tells me he means it. I stop what I am doing. Straightening the lace back over my hips and bum, I then turn to face him.

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Regular readers will know that I’m a big fan of cuckolding as a kink. Something about the combination of tortured emotions and intense fucks, the fact that emotional connection can be twisted into something much darker and more taboo… unngh, yeah. So inevitably I was delighted to find a cuck who was not only willing to chat about his kink, but explain in delicious and excruciating detail exactly what’s so hot about getting cucked. Take it away…

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I remember very vividly the first sexy daydream I had about a boy. I felt myself growing hot and tense inside before experiencing a release of arousal as the daydream came to climax. Not a real climax, sadly I’ve never had the ability to make myself come just by thinking about the right thing. But the right thoughts can trigger something intense, and this was the first time I’d experienced that intensity: the instant, shocking realisation that my mind could make my body do this thing, purely through the power of imagination. It was way more graphic than the purely cerebral lust I’d felt for guys in the past. When I talk about this feeling on the blog, I often refer to it as that ‘kick in the gut’ of lust. Or the unngh moment. Some fantasies might press a few buttons in your mind, sparking ideas and feelings that you want to follow up later, but these particular sexy dreams and daydreams are on another level: they kick me in the gut. Give me that unngh.

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This stunning threesome erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard and it picks up the story from part 1 (exhibitionism at the hotel). Check that out first before returning here to dive back in… 

My mind is foggy. My eyes are bleary. My mouth feels like it is full of cotton wool. I can feel the warmth of your body to one side of me. I can just hear the shallow breath of you sleeping. I can feel the tell tale signs of a disheveled bed around me and the pliable but firm casing of your vibrator under my pillow. My body hair is stiff and matted with the previous evening’s sweat and come, and the sweet scent of hard sex lingers in the air. The hotel is full of noises. Maids cleaning rooms. Couples collecting their thrown clothes from the floor and furniture. People going about their regular lives in the street so many floors below. The shower in our en-suite running… I get halfway through thinking “…who the fuck is in our shower?” when the events of the past few hours flood my memory like a vivid dream.

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He’s pretty quiet in bed, so I’ve become used to turning up the perception dial on all the senses I use to tell whether someone’s enjoying themselves. Most notably when I’m sucking his dick or giving him a gentle hand job. I listen more intensely for the softer sounds he makes, and have trained myself to hone in on those little moments when his breath catches: if I tease the head of his cock with lubed-up fingers, for instance, or get the pressure and speed of a particular stroke just right. I place my hands on his thighs or hips, where the muscles sometimes tense as things start to build, or I press my whole body against his, to get an even better idea of how my moves are being received. I check in with plenty of ‘is this good?’s and the occasional specific question like ‘tell me which is better… gentle or firm?’. It’s a far cry from someone’s hands gripping my hair and shoving my throat onto their cock or loud moans telling me what a filthy slut I am, but I’m getting used to these quieter, softer responses. I’ve started to tune in to the subtle shifts in how he tells me he’s having a good time. So when I introduced this subtle guy to a sexual feedback technique for shy people, the fact that he used it – and the way that he used it – made me drench my knickers in an instant.

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