Tag Archives: control
Guest blog: Shaving my sub’s cunt
This week’s guest blogger – @alexwritessmut – is going to talk to you about shaving his sub’s cunt. And putting it in that stark and simple way is, for some reason, a huge turn-on for me. Just the phrase ‘shaving my sub’s cunt’, where ‘cunt’ refers not just to a hole, but the whole – the mound between your legs as well as the parts inside you. The view someone gets when you spread your thighs – everything you’d hide day-to-day in knickers, suddenly exposed and explored. Open and vulnerable. Sometimes the simplicity of action, explained matter-of-factly, is all it takes to turn me on. And that’s before we even get to the detail… Enjoy…
Sit still: an exercise in arousal, precision and patience
I sit still. Very still. So still I am almost holding my breath. I can feel the cool tile underneath my legs, his warm arms around my shoulders. My nipples are taut and hard. I can feel his erection pressing into my back, as I stare into the darkness and bite my lip. And I sit still.
Phone sex: the conference call fuck
Is there anything in life more tedious than a conference call for a job you hate? You’re half involved in something you barely care about, and most of the people involved wouldn’t notice if you simply logged out. But – like fantasising about teachers during lectures – you can spice up even the dullest conference call with the addition of a dirty story…
My vagina is electric – adventures with ElectraStim
“Oh Jesus fuck yeah that’s we… yeah that’s weird… and umm holy fuck. Oh God ah it actually…”
Long pause while he fucks me more, just to check his assessment is correct.
“It actually feels…”
More fucking…
“Like your cunt is…”
Harder…
“…actively trying to pull my dick further in.”
Struggle-fucking: hold me tighter
When I was young, my best friend used to come and hug me from behind. He’d wrap his arms around my stomach, with his skinny forearms nestling just under my breasts. Ridiculously in love with him, I’d seize the opportunity to breathe in the smell of him, lean backwards into his chest and wonder: if I struggled, just a little … would he hold me tighter?