Category: Erotica

Once we got to the car, I went back to pretending to be more exhausted than I felt. The sun was climbing high in the sky, so there was hardly any shade to be found. Nora spotted a tree on the edge of the parking lot for us to sit under. It was only mid-morning, but the day was already getting hot and we were starting to sweat. I noticed little droplets forming on Nora’s temples. Even sweaty and exhausted Nora was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen.

Amy caught up with us a few minutes later. We all hopped in the SUV. The girls sat up front and I stretched out behind them. Amy rolled down every window and cranked the volume knob. The SUV roared down the winding rural roads. With the wind whipping through my hair and across my face, I closed my eyes. I had a moment where I realized that I was experiencing one of the best days of my life. One of the last hot and sleepy summer vacation days of my youth, spent hooking up with a gorgeous girl in secret and filling her mouth and pussy with my cum as often as she’d let me. It was literally the summer vacation of my dreams. Read more »

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.