Author: unholyintentions

A professional? Sunday brunch made me hungry and he filled me up [FM]

*I have a strict ‘no sex at work’ rule, but I guess some rules are meant to be broken a couple of times. I’m not proud, but this month’s contest submissions got my body reminiscing of them and I figured I’d share the first one today. What are -your- strict sex rules worth breaking a couple of times?*

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Do you ever go on trips where you feel insatiable all the time? Does air travel mess up your hormones? My visit to my BFF in a different city was full of all the fun things and wholesome catch-up, but the vibrator I brought was just not cutting it. I remember hours I spent on my friend’s bed, naked, finding angles to take nudes for the Redditor I’d fuck on the second leg of my trip (story for another day).

I was staying at my friend’s shared house, so I didn’t expect any action in that town of mostly young professionals. My poor pussy was dying. I never would have expected relief to come during a particularly horny Sunday, when a professional brunch was my lucky break. Networking Sunday brunch. Yes. Read more »

I got groped at a concert and I still cum thinking about it [FM] [Group]

*Disclaimer: Please do not grope strangers in concerts unless they explicitly ask for it. This story deals with a setting where I consented a posteriori, not fully a priori.*

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I’m on a rare voyeurism kick lately (let’s blame the warm weather), and I’ve caught myself cumming to a weird thing that happened to me many years ago at a metal concert.

Of course I dressed the part, which makes me giggle in retrospect. The gothic look did suit me. I had a black corset on, embellished with lace that draped over my cleavage. It cinched my small waist further in, showcasing my ample behind, covered by fishnets and a lace skirt. I wore heavy eye makeup and a gorgeous shade of blue on my lips.

I was used to playing bodyguard in such settings. My girlfriends were all petite; I was always the one people didn’t dare to mess with. I was tall, strong, and my outfit helped me look more intimidating. When someone got too close to any of us, I had no problem pushing him away. I think my self-confidence came from years of martial arts and a couple of knockouts in my history. Read more »

Desperate to orgasm [FM] [forced orgasm] [voyeur] [blurry consent]

She had never wanted to become a performer. In all honesty, the idea of being found out had long terrified her. In an age of influencers and self-broadcasting, she had remained a private young woman. Her demeanor was discreet; her beautiful curves were always hidden under flowy, long garments.

She was not virginal nor prudish. Quite the contrary. Her favorite pastimes included swallowing cum, watching porn that pushed her kink threshold, and doing Tinder hookups with men too old for her. Her brain was definitely full of filth. It’s just she felt that no one had to know about it. Her sweet appearance helped keep her secret.

How someone like her found herself in a place this sordid seemed beyond explanation. The building security guy did a double take. The secretary asked her where she was intending to visit. The guy behind the desk took a long look at her when she entered, trying to infer things before he started his intake interview.

“Hey there, thanks for coming by,” he said, extending his hand to her, almost formal. Her own grasp shivered as she accepted his handshake, her sight following the tattoos up his arm.

“Thank you…” Read more »

Learning to cum [FM] [Age gap] [Masturbation] [Mild shaming] [Fsub]

She had followed the Becoming Orgasmic regimen to perfection. The perfectionism that dominated all aspects of her life, from school and work to her own appearance, seeped into her most recent sexual project. She did all the exercises, all the at-home practice, all the readings. Still, she was not seeing results.

It’s a good thing he was into troubleshooting.

She was living a cruel version of the slut’s paradox. For such a dirty-minded, desirable slut, she sure had an extraordinarily hard time reaching orgasm. She had let many men stimulate her tight holes, leave her leaking with the remnants of their pleasure, giving her little pleasure to show for it. The amount of orgasms her body had created, the amount of sperm in her insides, did not in any way reflect her few moments of ecstasy.

Her insatiable drive led her to look for pleasure in increasingly riskier settings. She became a regular in the bars frequented by older men, dressed in tight and short dresses that helped her end up in strangers’ beds, sometimes thrice per night, on the quest for orgasm. The bartenders that had frequently seen her actions had taken their turns inside her, the now famous bar slut. She responded to online ads from men offering cunnilingus, knowing more often than not that she’d have to fake an orgasm and swallow their cum when she wanted to rid herself of their presence. Read more »

Park transgressions [FM] [Soft NC]

It was out of her own will that she sat in the park bench across his, wearing no undergarments to their first date. It had been a bold decision, even coming out to meet him, an internet stranger. Would he take advantage of her presence? Would he cross her lines? Was this all a bad idea?

She sat in front of him, her legs bare below the hem of her short skirt, part of her fantasy she had confessed, not his. Her white shirt, a bit tighter than she remembered it, pressed against her otherwise bare breasts. She looked at him with curiosity; he was more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures he had sent her.

Her dress code might have indicated complete openness, but he knew better than that. Anyone else would find her reticence uncharacteristic for a young woman who had eagerly shared the contents of her depraved mind with an internet stranger. Like life itself, she was full of contradictions. She did not want to commit sin, but she basked in his infinite attention. She believed in staying pure for marriage, but she had never stopped her fingers from going inside her during their chats. She had long fantasized of creampies and gangbangs, but in practice never gone beyond a kiss. Read more »

How I first learned to ride [FM] [then F19, M42]

College nerds love to learn new skills. I learned to read, to argue. I acquired useful skills: navigating bureaucracy, beating classmates to the library when assigned readings were expensive. Honestly, I am good at learning, or so I was raised to believe. I have been told I am a natural learner my whole life.

There was a time that this was not the case. I was out on a field experiment my first year of college. At 19, I was naked on top of my lover, trying to figure out the intricacies of penis-in-vagina in cowgirl position, and it was just not coming to me naturally at all. I could not figure out how to ride his cock for my life.

It’s not that I had not done the readings. Life knows I had done all of them, perhaps even too many. I had watched pornstars squat on top of lovers, beautifully stuffing their pussies while exercising their quadriceps. I had watched videos of titties, bellies, hair bouncing with each ride, women screaming and men grunting in ecstasy. Read more »

Big boss’s first submission [FM] [femdom] [age gap]

*Disclaimer: This one is long and there are no shortcuts because the road to Ithaka is a long one, full of adventure and discovery. Except Ithaka is his sperm inside me and the adventure is a mindfuck full of gendered and intergenerational resentment. If you want a fast fap, go read [this vanilla story](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/td5uj2/my_first_blowjob_or_i_swallowed_sperm_at_grandmas/) instead. You may lick me clean and thank me in the comments after.*

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It is not that she showed up unprepared to the meetings. She knew as much as everyone in the room did. It is rather that she expected to be treated as an equal. The bar is low, no? But their basic patriarchal brains could only process her as a relative. At best, as an intern. They angered her, and, unfortunately, she let them see it.

The biggest offender had predictably been the most senior figure in that room. A classic case of man whose path to self-fulfillment only included women as progenitors or as eye candy. It’s not that they were in antagonistic roles, nor that he made particularly boomerish comments. Really, it was that he had a way of deflecting the conversation every time she moved it an inch forward. He was fast at destroying progress she had built up over several exchanges. Somehow, though, it did not feel intentional. Maybe he just did not give a fuck. Read more »

Sunday aftercare [FM] [blowjob]

Last night’s fuck had been everything she needed. It had been so intense that there were vestiges on her body. The red marks on her waist, the tenderness in her breasts, the mild soreness in her insides. Her Dom had truly outdone himself.

Aftercare the night before had been focused on her. After guiding her on a journey to the stars, he was the tether safely bringing her back down to Earth. Sunday morning was the time to focus her care on him.

When he rolled onto his back, she slipped between his legs and laid her tongue on his morning wood. After all, “one who cares must meet the cared-for just as he is: as a whole human being with individual needs and interests.” It just so happened that her Dom’s individual needs and interests were orally fixated. What a good fortune that so were hers.

Her licks started out gentle, a slow build up not to startle him in the midway state between sleep and consciousness. She knew her warm breath and slow teasing along his shaft, down to his balls, were enough to harden him awake. A quiet grunt was the first success indicator. Read more »

The pleasure of being unknown [MF]

I have never been the kind of person who can flirt with friends of my friends at their party. I must have turned down dozens of promising advances simply because they were too close to existing nodes of my social network. I don’t know; maybe it is the potential for augmented shame in rejection. Maybe I am just not good at reading others’ body language. Maybe, in all honesty, I just have commitment issues.

This is why I cherish the opportunities to fuck that pop up in times and places where I a complete stranger. It is hot to hear a man whisper your name when he is cumming, but it can be hotter to hear the fake name you gave him.

I was sitting by myself in a restaurant booth when he sat across me in his own. We held eye contact briefly, unafraid to acknowledge each other. It was the start of a game of flirting, traditional and cliched: I pushed my hair back, baring the skin of my neck, chest, and shoulders, all uncovered by my strapless dress. He smiled placidly, looking at me longer than he looked at the menu. I crossed my long legs, letting the fabric rise to reveal more than was needed. He shifted in his seat, angling to face me directly. The game was only interrupted by his chat with the waitress… and by a work email I could not ignore. Read more »

Why you fucked me raw [dirty prose]

It was a big deal when you first fucked me raw.
Fucking me raw was the start of the cognitive liberation that results from the removal of material constraints. No more worrying about pharmacy trips, constant checking for rips. No more second guessing: What are the optimal conditions for latex storage? Had this one condom been kept too long in your wallet? What about your minimalist room with no bedside table?
The flow of your cum against my cervix was your libertarian dream. Fucking me raw removed you from a political economy of resource extraction and environmental devastation. It erased your name from the list of actors depleting South Asian rubber tree plantations. It was your personal take on consumer ethics: you gave up straws, you gave up bags, you gave up condoms.
You, the eternal pragmatist, cumming hard because fucking me raw was a form of industrial process optimization. It was all about your dick not feeling constraining latex. You were so focused on matter that you were almost oblivious to the spiritual power of your seed rich and unmediated in its rightful vessel. It was not noise you removed: it was a fortress. The most powerful emotional stopgap.
Don’t reduce the act to school images of geyser eruptions and cellulose osmosis. When you first fucked me raw, you made a leap of faith to believe in all the possible universes. You recognized yourself owner and owned, death agent and healer. You were the paternal seed inside your woman’s body — the seed that had been nurtured inside a woman’s body. We did not invent stars but we designated constellations; you fucked me raw and invented no chromosomes, but it was you who called upon our future lineage.
In your daily life, you confuse your will to power with the capitalist drive to accumulate property. You did not fall for that trap when you first fucked me raw. Your cum was the ink that sealed a mutualist promise: I was yours only because you were mine. Two bodies made intimate by the brief second that they share one interior line. You fuck me raw because and in spite of the science, the politics, and the creed.
Like all matters in ethics and metaphysics, why you fuck me raw is not a settled question. How is it that, in the vastness of the universe, I can long for your cum and only yours? How is it that the union of two in billions can ignite desire so deep it creates new life? Your unmediated cum is embedded in the magic of love, the very force that brings your seed inside me. Your cum might not bind us forever, but it did when you first fucked me raw. And that’s what made it such a big fucking deal.

Published
Categorized as Erotica