5. What will ruin a relationship for you?
Broken trust: lies and psychological games are the biggest turn-off for me. I can’t abide them.
But most of all, I see. See the trembling orgasm, the long breaths and the clenched fist. See the relief on your face as you redouble your efforts on your friend, forcing me to watch her explode into a million pieces of sheer orgasmic delight.
When using the Aura, I felt full; the electrical sensations vibrated the senses and drove a deep tingling into the skin. My prostate certainly enjoyed the toy, and unlike the Stubby I can honestly say that the Aura will be used again and again. It’s a big improvement over the Stubby and definitely addresses the shortcomings with the original bi-polar dildo.
The crowd wanted action, and behind us the losing players entered the field of play. Many were shirtless, accepting the cool breeze of a late September afternoon. Their goalkeeper was naked, his large cock swinging as he walked towards the mats. I think he wanted to show off his masculinity, to try and salvage some pride from his well endowed prick.
Sinful Sunday for 19/20 July 2014
I loved those couples, his hand exposing her bare skin to the sky, caressing her tender bosom as I showered them with purple blossom. She would slide down his body, slowly kissing every inch of the bare-chested warrior. His trousers were a trivial obstacle, his underwear even less so, as her luscious tongue swept up and down his erect shaft. And then, as they sought to consummate their love, she would straddle his wood: firm and hard like my branches, but bringing her undeniable pleasure as she rode him to a guttural climax.
Those passionate meetings made me fly. While Albert rarely wanted sex, my lovers wanted it all the time. I was the tart of Tottenham, the harlot of Harringay and the strumpet of Southgate. Renowned for miles around, I was stealing more virginities than bikesheds and roller discos.
It was a meat market. There was no consideration as to whom they were going to select, just a bawdy scream of cries from the crowd of horny men. All they wanted was holes; that’s all we were to them, a couple of orifices to bring them guilty pleasure. To boost their ego and to feel the consequences of their victory.
“Sure. But if I win you go down on me.”
“What? All three inches of it.” A low blow, Paula. A very low blow. “OK. But when I win, you go down on any guy I choose.” She waited for a few moments. “You can even do it in my bed, with my lube and I’ll record it for you.”
So, in conclusion, we enjoyed playing with the candle. We still have much of it left, and the candle provided an incredible amount of lubrication for our use. Looking at the container, we still have several more massages to look forward to, and at around £20 per candle it represents good value.
Photo courtesy of Chintz Curtain Welcome to Elust #60 – The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #60? Start with the …
So O2Wifi think they know better than me, want to protect me and all that malarkey, but they don’t know that most sites on the net can be accessed from both HTTPS and HTTP protocols. Seriously, guys: the only thing worse than censorship is incompetent censorship.
One week to pass the law: no debate, nothing. One week to pass powers that the European Convention on Human Rights have already ruled as unlawful. One week to offend our democracy.
In truth, I wanted him to. The confused squeals and unmistakeable grunts from the room piqued my curiosity. I could never admit it to my team-mates, but at that moment I was intrigued as to what buggery would feel like. I needed to know.
But a lot of my words are written to stimulate. Sure, I like to weave in some of my twisted humour into my work, but what I write is to provoke you, my readers. And erotic writing is intended to cause blood to flow liberally to the nether regions.
SinfulSunday for 12-13 July 2014
But the words disappeared as I saw her. The naked brunette, leaning against the cabin door, pouting provocatively as two naked men entered the plane. “This is Annette.”
“Are we horny?” She needlessly asked, tracing her long finger from my forehead, down my nose and torso. A little flick of my cock made me squeal; I needed a couple of deep breaths as every touch swamped my senses with arousal.
Last week, I asked a number of sex writers and bloggers to complete a Myers-Briggs Personality Test and provide me with the result. I wanted to see if there was any commonality in the personality of the people who were attracted to writing about sex or were comfortable with sharing their sex lives. This train …
But she continued: belly laughs as I tried to do what I needed to do. Thrusting, ramming, pounding, fucking her. And I wanted to fuck her. To drive my manhood into her until she screamed with delirious orgasm.
Sinful Sunday for 6th July 2014
Her tongue swept over my cock as she sucked, drawing her mouth down my erection as her hands toyed gently with my balls; a gentle finger here, and small squeeze there had me teetering on the edge of my climax. I watched; staring intensely as her slick movements sent shivers through my cock.
There are many things wrong with this country. There are many things wrong with British justice. This is evident, and almost universally acknowledged, but in British society there are many rights conveyed upon citizens that are almost unknown. Like, the ability for any child to withdraw permission for his or her school to use their …
I was motionless. My eyes were glued to the swell of her breasts and the heave of her panting, staring at the writhing woman masturbating in the midday sun.
She would watch my eyes trace her dripping body across the screen, drooling slightly as the pouting woman pulled on her left strap to expose her breast. She did it every time: the soft, rounded orb of gorgeousness, freed for my benefit.
I could scarcely believe my luck; our MP enjoying the evil machinations of the dominatrix’s mind. He squealed with every strike of her hand, squirming as the first whoosh landed on his bum. The red stain was joined by another. And another.
But Fiona wanted to play: she had the fiery look of arousal in her eyes, the latex stockings that made her feel confident and sexy, and the gleam of a sadistic imagination desperate to be set free.
But Lucy wailed as our Captain barked: failing asleep on lookout was a serious abberation. One that would not go unpunished. All twenty-two of us, huddled on deck to watch the ferocious beating unleashed by moonlight.
My mouth welcomed the victor, sliding his warm, firm cock between my lips. I sucked; I’d practised on my girlfriends dildo as we knew the rule changes in the league for this year, but nothing prepared me for the real thing. I licked the soft ridges as his foreskin slid back and his glans became exposed, sucking in his masculinity and swirling my tongue over his sensitive head.
SinfulSunday on June 28th