A friend drunkenly told me I was ‘Wank Fuel’. So I made him cum for real (30f) [FM]

Masturbation. We all do it. And why shouldn’t we – it’s wonderful. Not *quite* as magnificent as sex (or, at the very least, it shouldn’t be. There are times when it’s a better choice, but that’s a whole other discussion for another post), but it’s as entertaining and satisfying a way of filling your time as any other. Frankly nature took something of a risk when granting us the ability to generate our own orgasms. I sometimes wonder how we ever summon the willpower to leave the house.

But aside the obvious advantages of self-stimulation, one of the most wonderful things about self-loving is that it can be deeply personal. You can sit back and be entertained and aroused by whatever imagery, pornography or other means of external stimuli you care to mention, and they all absolutely have their place. But, for me, the very best times are when you simply allow your imagination to conjure up whatever filthy thoughts your conscious – or indeed subconscious – mind can fathom, and go with the flow.

Walking in on a guy wanking… (30f) [FM]

You’ve got to wonder which came first; did pornography create the cliche of ‘girl catches guy masturbating, so naturally she offers to help’, or was it a commonplace enough reaction/even already which in turn created the genre of pornography?

I realise this is a largely rhetorical/philosophical question that doesn’t really have a place here, but as I retell the incident which occurred to me I do find myself questioning whether the situation was created by porn and made into cliche, or if it is legitimately a natural reaction and has always occurred?

During my second year at university I’d moved out of halls/dorms and into a shared house. There were five of us sharing the tiny abode which featured the fundamentals of basic living, but little else. In total there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a shared living room. The occupants were; a couple sharing one bedroom, myself and a friend with a bedroom each, and a guy who was friends with the couple who we barely knew (at least when we moved in.).

Cumming home for Christmas [FM] (30f)

‘Twas a few nights before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
But that’s not strictly true, as something *was* stirring,
For under a duvet a vibrator was whirring.
I was attempting to relieve my frustration,
By applying some liberal clitoral stimulation.
Though I was having success, and my toes they did twitch,
It just wasn’t enough to fully scratch the itch.
I sought something more substantial in her Christmas stocking,
To put it quite bluntly, I needed a cock-ing.
For a festive family gathering is great, with one snag,
It presents next to no opportunities to shag.
I’d been home for three days; a Christmas vacation,
And my sex life had halted, a total cessation.
Until then I’d been active, after all, ’tis the season,
Not that I needed to justify the reason.
In short, I was horny. I needed some action,
To get out and find some mutual attraction.
So despite the later hour, and some of my family sleeping,
Out of the house I found myself creeping.
(It wasn’t that late. Maybe just gone twelve?
Certainly enough time for my plans not to shelve)
Wrapped up in layers, looking quite the sight,
I ventured out into the cold winter’s night…

Blowjobs for goals – Making Football Fun! (30f) [Group]

With the World Cup underway, I figured this was as good a time as any to re-share my (currently) one and only football related tale of fuckery. However, ‘it’s the season, so we’ll see if the coming weeks will grant opportunity to expand my repertoire.

For context, this occurred during the Euros.

I am, perhaps unsurprisingly, not much of a football fan. And to clarify several things from the outset; by football I mean soccer for those of a transatlantic persuasion, and by ‘not much’ I mean I regard it with roughly the same level of disinterest as crochet, pingpong, or the literary works of E.L. James.

I’ve always considered myself to be too much a cynic and pessimistic soul to really get behind any sporting enthusiasm. If anything I’d argue it’s the more rational approach – If you expect your team to lose then it’s surely twice as exciting if they manage to secure a victory, meanwhile a loss is – to badly cross some sporting similes – par for the course.

Outdoor fucking with literal fireworks (30f) [FM]

With Halloween already a distant memory, now is the time of year we Brits would traditionally be looking forward to our next half-arsed quasi-‘seasonal’ event; celebrating the occasion when a bloke tried but failed miserably to blow up our ruling elite in the only manner deemed appropriate: Letting off a load of fireworks and gathering around communal bonfires!

To provide a little more context for those who’s never experienced ‘Bonfire Night’/’Guy Fawkes Day’, let me provide a little context for the typical ‘event’. For those already in the know, feel free to skip ahead. This will likely be a lengthy and mind-numbingly unsexy preamble, even by my standards.

Most UK towns and cities will play host to some form of Nov 5th celebration. In some cases these are tiny affairs with a small fire, a gathering of a few hundred people, and five disappointing minutes of things going ‘bang’ in the sky. Others are far larger with thousands of attendees, usually incorporate some live music in the prelude, and feature moderately impressive displays. At least for those inclined to look up into the sky and say ‘ooh’ at some pretty lights and loud noises.

Fucking Thor – A Halloween Costumed Cocking [FM]

Halloween. The glorious time of year when suddenly having a dressing up box is considered a boon and not a childish cry for help. The time when perceived wisdom has every female using the thinly veiled excuse to dress up as outrageously slutty as they can conceive, while guys make as minimal effort as possible to wear something that can barely be described as ‘dressing up’.

Thankfully though, the type of people I’ve tried to spend my life surrounded by don’t slip into the cliche of this perceived wisdom. Which isn’t to say myself and certain female friends don’t take the opportunity to make the most of exciting costume opportunities, but rather that we tend to mix with guys who actually do make an effort.

I realise this is two paragraphs of entirely non-arousing preamble, but fear not, it’ll eventually become clear. The tl;dr version of the above it that myself and friends are varying degrees of geeky at heart, and like our costumes to be accurate as well as arousing, and vastly prefer the type of guy who’s actually produced a costume of some merit, than worn a nice shirt and calls himself a cowboy.

Walking in on a guy wanking… SURPRISE! (30f) [FM]

You’ve got to wonder which came first; did pornography create the cliche of ‘girl catches guy masturbating, so naturally she offers to help’, or was it a commonplace enough reaction/even already which in turn created the genre of pornography?

I realise this is a largely rhetorical/philosophical question that doesn’t really have a place here, but as I retell the incident which occurred to me I do find myself questioning whether the situation was created by porn and made into cliche, or if it is legitimately a natural reaction and has always occurred?

During my second year at university I’d moved out of halls/dorms and into a shared house. There were five of us sharing the tiny abode which featured the fundamentals of basic living, but little else. In total there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a shared living room. The occupants were; a couple sharing one bedroom, myself and a friend with a bedroom each, and a guy who was friends with the couple who we barely knew (at least when we moved in.).

When you catch your housemate wanking… SURPRISE! (30f) [FM]

You’ve got to wonder which came first; did pornography create the cliche of ‘girl catches guy masturbating, so naturally she offers to help’, or was it a commonplace enough reaction/even already which in turn created the genre of pornography?

I realise this is a largely rhetorical/philosophical question that doesn’t really have a place here, but as I retell the incident which occurred to me I do find myself questioning whether the situation was created by porn and made into cliche, or if it is legitimately a natural reaction and has always occurred?

During my second year at university I’d moved out of halls/dorms and into a shared house. There were five of us sharing the tiny abode which featured the fundamentals of basic living, but little else. In total there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a shared living room. The occupants were; a couple sharing one bedroom, myself and a friend with a bedroom each, and a guy who was friends with the couple who we barely knew (at least when we moved in.).

An Unexpected Threesome (30f) [FMM]

As far as I’m concerned, threesomes are the definitive version of sex. By this I mean MFM threesomes specifically, and not only because they place me squarely at the centre of attention.

It’s *mostly* that, but not entirely!

Which is not to say regular one-on-one sex isn’t wonderful. Clearly it’s one of the best ways of spending your time. But even the very best of a sexual pairings has moments in which the momentum relents – Pausing the action to change positions being the most common. Also, and I realise this may sound like something of a controversial statement, sometimes it can be prone to getting a little ‘samey’. Yes, there are multitude of positions, paces, intensities, etc. But ultimately it boils down to putting a thing in a hole. Yes, there can be some variety in the hole, but even then it’s one at a time.

Threesomes however increase those options exponentially. Suddenly there’s not only twice as many things that can be happening at any one time, but also near unlimited options for different combinations. In the same way that when you shuffle a deck of cards you’re likely to be creating a combination that has never before been seen in human history, no threesome (even if it’s the same individuals involved) tends to proceed in the same way twice. There’s always something going on, and there’s always a smorgasbord of options for what can be done *next*.

The Rules for Fucking your Teacher (30f) [FM]

Role Play. An integral and essential part of sexual life for some, and a horror filled nightmare the likes of which Meatloaf referred to in his song “I would do anything for love, but I won’t do *that*”.

For my part, I absolutely understand the appeal. The opportunity to play a role and feel like somebody else for a while doesn’t present itself very often in life and, for the majority, role play presents the opportunity to enact the kind of fantasies that real life so rarely offers. But I can also very much see the thinking from those for whom the very idea may bring them out in a cold sweat. Because, when it comes down to it, role play requires acting. Not necessarily very good, deep or subtle acting – indeed, usually far from it – but, like most kinks, it’s something you’re either into or you’re not. And if you’re not, it’s a portal to only deep embarrassment, and the sudden and overwhelming desire to become celibate.