This true sex club story is written by sex blogger Molly Moore, and it originally appeared on her site. 

The room is dimly lit by a series of wall lights, every now and then the door to the outside opens and the room is flooded with daylight but then it closes again and the space returns darkens again. One end of the room is covered with floor to ceiling mirrors.

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This post, by sex blogger Molly Moore, originally appeared on her site. 

I want you to watch me …legs spread wide laying on the bed fucking myself with a thick hard glass dildo and rubbing at my clit.
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Watching my boyfriend masturbate is one of my favourite treats. If you offered me the choice between it, or a trip to Thorpe Park, I’d tell you to crack out the lube because the Saw rollercoaster is disappointing in comparison. I’ve already told you about watching him wank in the shower, so for those who enjoyed that (and there are, apparently, plenty of you), here’s a more recent iteration: watching my boyfriend masturbate to porn. Let’s break down some of the hottest moments in a kind of highlight reel.

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A confession: when you’re out, sometimes I lie on your bed and bury my face in your bedsheets. Huffing the lingering scent of summer sweat like it’s perfumed roses or myrrh or forty-quid wine. I am creepy, so of course I sniff your bedsheets. And that’s not all I do.

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In contrast to some of my longer and ramblier blog posts, this one’s short and sweet. Not quite a love letter, but a kiss blown from across the room. A casual ‘fuck yeah’ when someone suggests something horny or the brief, swift kick you get in the pit of your stomach when something you weren’t expecting turns you on. Today I want to write about the junk tuck.

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