She’s working diligently; head down, fingers bouncing off the keyboard, a small furrow between her brows. To the casual observer, she could be a freelance web designer or accountant, HR consultant or researcher – the millennial uniform of smart-casual jeans, ankle boots, tailored jacket would be out of place in neither a wine bar or a boardroom. more “The Writer”
Edging myself is not something I do deliberately very often. I’m terrible at self-denial (and not just when it comes to orgasms; I’ll eat chocolate until I feel sick and smoke until my lungs hurt because – well, why on earth would I stop?!) more “Edging”
TW: some of these fantasies involve totally make-believe scenarios of non-consensual sex. Consent is definitely and always necessary IRL, but inside my head I am safe to explore darker themes without damage. If the idea makes you uncomfortable or distressed then this blog post is not for you, please don’t read on. Always take care of yourselves and each other.
What do you think about when you’re having a wank? Someone asked me this a long time ago and my response was erm; fucking, duh….isn’t that what everyone thinks about?
My body isn’t conventionally ‘perfect’ – many years of SSRIs, fatigue, joint problems and desk jobs have taken their toll on my metabolism and my shape. But, I’ve learned to love my figure just the way it is. Thanks to my genetic condition (Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome), I have very soft skin which always looks tanned, courtesy of my mixed heritage. My favourite bits are my tits and my arse – both curvaceous and bodacious.
When I’m in hotels (which is a lot, for work), I like to play with the mirrors, looking for new ways to see myself and celebrate being just the way I am.
I’m pretty sure I actually saw this on the way home today. Even if my eyes deceived me at the time, it makes for a pretty damn hot fantasy. How lucky it just happens to be #MasturbationMonday!
So picture this. You’re on the bus on the way home from the station. It’s been a long and demanding day, so all you want to do is silence the whirling work-thoughts buzzing around your brain. You’ve been idly contemplating your favourite sexual fantasies on the journey so far, picking out which to play on your mind’s projector that evening when you settle naked onto your bed. You’re gazing out of the window, not really registering what you’re seeing as you picture scenes of dominance, restraints, floggings and hard fucking.
Then it happens. The bus jolts over a speed bump and you look up momentarily, to meet her eyes.