24 hours (December edition)

Twice now, I’ve published short collections of things I’d been fantasising about over the previous 24 hours. Each post was written at a time when I was struggling to focus on longer, more structured pieces – in part because I was so uncontrollably horny that my brain was just jumping from one hot scenario to the next.

My sex drive seems to have peaked again recently, and that’s coincided with another mini period of writer’s block. My drafts folder contains half a dozen posts that I’ve either abandoned or mothballed, and I have a similar number that haven’t yet made it out of my head. Their time will come, but for now I’m going to offer up another 24-hour snapshot of exactly what’s been keeping me on edge. I hope you enjoy it…

  • The shower block from this week’s Sinful Sunday photo, but this time we’re not alone. On the benches around you are other women – maybe other men too – watching me shower. I feel nervous and exposed, but excited. I lather shampoo into my chest hair and around my cock, briefly concealing it from view. One of the women – a Twitter crush – stands up and walks towards me, fully clothed. She has a sponge, which she soaks in water, before kneeling down to rinse the suds away from my cock. It responds immediately, getting thicker and harder as I tilt my hips up to meet her. I can hear the click of your camera, but when she slides her lips over my cock, you lower your phone and just watch her suck it. I come in her mouth as water rains down over both of us.
  • Denial, and the woman who made me wait two weeks before she allowed me to come. The sexting and the photos, as I edged for her each night. The way she ground her cunt against my face and sat on my cock; told me to fuck her harder, even when I said I couldn’t, it was too much, I was going to lose it… How I’d pull out of her when she was finished, my cock almost vibrating with the effort of holding back, my balls aching and swollen. Everything hot and dark with blood – so sensitive that I couldn’t get dressed again right away, in case the soft cotton against my skin pushed me over the edge. Leaving her flat, my head all over the place, torn between elation and despair.
  • The cubicle on the right. You know the one. Your face as I ushered you in there, index finger pressed against my lips. You’re good with instructions, and that day was no exception. Wear something short and slutty, I said – fill your arse with a butt plug on the train. And of course you did exactly as you were told. I wanted you on your knees first, my hand scrunched up in your curls and my cock stuffed down your throat – you didn’t go there expecting me to be gentle. I pulled you back up, gasping and spluttering, and bent you over against the door, then above the toilet. The glass plug was heavy and solid in your arse, but I knew you needed more than just that. It was a tight squeeze – I could feel the pressure on my cock as I pushed it inside your cunt, and you gasped at the sudden fullness. Each thrust was an effort; a fight to move between the unyielding firmness of the glass on one side, and the soft strength of your pelvic muscles clamping down on me on the other. We were both shaking by the end of it.
  • A task. Something small and easy. Pick out a pair of knickers – nothing fancy, just simple, cotton underwear. Do it in the morning, right before you sit down at your desk to start studying. Over the course of the day, I want you to make yourself come as many times as you can. Use fingers, toys, I don’t care – do it in whatever manner works best for you, but you must never remove your knickers. That’s the only rule. I want you to soak them thoroughly – for them to be wet all day, basically, and slick with your cum. Almost ruined. At the end of the day, I want a photo of you on your knees, naked, with the bunched-up, cum-soaked knickers in your mouth. Then put them in an envelope and mail them to me – so I can spunk all over them. Would you enjoy that?
  • Flashes from After Pandora. The bits I’m going to write up into a blog post, and the bits I think I’d still struggle to describe. Fucking you from behind as you took that guy’s cock in your mouth and his eyes practically rolled back in his head. Kissing that super-hot woman and watching her kiss you. The way you moaned around my cock as a third guy ate you out and made you come. All of it, basically.
  • Listening to another couple fuck through a thin wall from the spare bed next door. Sometimes I know both of them really well, sometimes it’s just her – or him. Either way, they know I can hear everything that’s happening, and even though we’ve never talked about me joining them, the sexual tension has been building up between us all evening. The noises they’re making are just muffled enough that I have to try and figure out in my head what’s happening. Is she sucking his cock now? Ah, no, I think she must be riding it, that’s why the headboard is rattling. I don’t have any lube, so I have to use saliva to slick my fingers as I try to match their rhythm. Her orgasm pushes me over the edge, and I jizz all over myself. All over the clean sheets she put on the bed for me. I’m already half-asleep when one of them pushes my bedroom door open, just a crack. I don’t move – I barely breathe. It closes again softly and I wonder just what tomorrow night will bring.
  • Times I’ve come far too quickly, because I’ve been so turned on that I couldn’t control myself. How premature ejaculation is one of those things that isn’t hot until it really is. I can still remember the mix of exasperation and excitement in one partner’s voice – disappointment and pride – as she realised that I was too close to stop. “No, not yet, don’t come yet…I need you to fuck me a bit longer, please…oh, oh you couldn’t help yourself, could you? Mm, you’d better clean it up – then lick me till you’re ready to fuck again…”
  • The desperate, hungry way someone kisses and fucks you when they know they shouldn’t. A colleague’s fingers brushing over my thigh at a big group dinner, years ago now, with her boyfriend sitting opposite. Greedy, open-mouthed kisses in an alley behind the bar, later in the night. My sister’s best friend, smiling innocently at me in the pub. The same smile on her bed after I’d given her a lift home, as she looked back over her shoulder and told me to fuck her harder, deeper. Women who tell you not to mark them, in case their husband sees the bruises – who suck your cock like it’s the only thing they’ve ever truly wanted in their mouth. The woman whose curiosity got the better of her after I fucked her friend (“I know we shouldn’t, but…”). The ones who felt guilty and the ones who didn’t. The ones who came back for more…
  • This threesome – oh god yes, this threesome. Everything about it, all the way through to breakfast the next morning. 
  • Your fingers in my arse as you suck my cock. How happy you always look when I shoot down your throat. How happy it makes me to see that. Kissing you afterwards and feeling you smile against me, as I taste myself on your lips.
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5 Responses to 24 hours (December edition)

  1. Princess says:

    I’d hardly call this writers block, well done.

  2. You mind is full of things to say and you express so well, writers block is only because there is so much you want to say and have not formatted yet xx

  3. Pingback: Bigger infinities… | The Other Livvy

  4. Jo says:

    Ah – your brain is moving too fast for you to slow down your hands and write a long-form piece! Luckily for all of us, these short, luscious, motley fantasies make a perfectly steamy post all on their own!

  5. eye says:

    Block? I see hotness , a kind of premature ejaculation of the literary kind, and *so* many sexy possibilities for a longer experience.

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