A few nights ago, I went running. It was a beautiful evening and being outside to do something physical was exhilarating. While I was running, I started to imagine going running with a play partner of mine – and, of course, sucking their dick mid-run. This smut is inspired by those thoughts, but also plays around a little with the idea of using BDSM-y sex to build self-confidence so you can feel like you’ve really feel like you’ve earned a thing, even when your mind is lying to you.
I couldn’t not join in with Kink of the Week, because the photo accompanying , proudly displaying my first ever love bite. I wrote a little about the adventure that earned me the mark when I initially posted the photo, so today’s post is purely fictional filth. It’s also though – because it’s me, and I can’t help but subvert Molly’s carefully curated memes – about power dynamics and blow jobs.
Last year, for World Poetry Day, I wrote a poem about my adventures at Eroticon. Tonight, everyone is talking about blow jobs on Twitter, so I’m turning my hand to writing blow job poetry as an ode to both the delight of sucking dick and the filthy mindedness of my friends.
I’ve written about sleepy struggle fucks and sweet, half-asleep sex before, so I wanted to find a slightly different angle for today’s dissection-of-kink post. Instead of erotica I’m sharing a little bundle of thoughts about why I’m into sleepy, drowsy and night time sex – because I definitely am. I really, really like waking up to cock.
Today is a filthy poetry day, because I couldn’t concentrate to writing yesterday – I was filled with anticipation for the evening’s sex date, which itself was filled with twisted adventures. It was an interlude, with cocks, and it was delightful. And now I really need to go and wash my hair!