Tag Archives: flirting
“What are you gonna do about it?” An ode to bratty subs
Perhaps it’s my age, or I’m experiencing a sudden and temporary burst of self-confidence – maybe my therapy’s working? Whatever the reason, I’ve been feeling a lot more domme lately. As often as I used to yearn for powerful, toppy guys with wickedly menacing grins, now I dream about bratty subs who have a playfully cheeky, ‘what are you gonna do about it?’ energy.
Sinful delivery: Testing sex toys with her
This fabulous (and clever!) piece that turns testing sex toys into a super horny erotic scene is written and read by The Barefoot Sub.
The doorbell shrieked, cutting through the static of my empty head! I’d been staring at a blank screen for what felt like hours, the cursor blinking away on the screen as I wracked my brain, attempting to get the words out. Waiting for my local courier to drop off my sinful delivery, certain I was distracted by the pleasure to come. Surely this was it? Though the regular driver would usually leave it in my safe space. Jumping up, I went to see who it was.
“Sophie,” I beamed, “you decided to take me up on the offer of a cuppa? Your timing couldn’t have been better.”
Under the table touches: this guy has a wife
There are two levels on which I’m enjoying dinner. On the surface, the main conversation – catching up with friends I’ve not seen in years. Beneath the table, something even better – his thigh nudging against mine. The oh-so-casual initial pressure that could easily be written off as an accident conjures a flash of possibility as I realise that… yeah… this guy just might want to fuck me. A rush of teenage horn flushes across my skin as I decide that I’m gonna nudge him back to find out for sure. Meeting his pressure, thigh-against-thigh, I remind myself that this guy has a wife.
Guest blog: It turns out I’m not lust-proof
This week’s guest blogger has a happy story. One of those stories which makes me want to hug myself because a stranger found their joy. I’m really delighted to welcome Eddie to the blog, as he tells you how a Twitter crush taught him that – despite the bollocks he’s been fed by society about what might count as ‘desirable’ – he isn’t lust-proof after all.
I would, you would
The hottest thing about you – and please make sure you hear me all the way out, because at first glance it might sound dismissive – is that you want to fuck me. That’s it. The best fucking thing. The red-hot fire in the gusset of my knickers right now: I just know that you definitely would.