Boy smut is quite... boring. Really. "My hot gym instructors wife was using the bench press. I ran my hand over her soft tits. She sucked my cock and then I fucked her. I came in her ass."
Girl smut is really long. Really, really long. As a comparison.
I have decided to do a more regular smut feature. But I'm not sure how regular. With the current frequency of writing I'd say it would be at the beginning of every month. A post. Two tops. Over the weekend. Which means...
Its smut weekend. You have been warned. Don't read the next few posts while at work.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Late review
So I just saw the Transformers movie. Fuck the reviews. It. Was. Brilliant! Bring on the sequel.
"Into the abyss"
Whilst at work, I decided to head out for a cold drink during my lunch break. Since my work uniform is fuuugly, I went out in my civvies. I have to say, I looked dam hot. Animal print dress, mega boobs, black suede stiletto ankle boots with a bow. The hot works. I looked fantastic.
I didn't feel it though. I was wondering if my boobs were too out there, if I was walking funny (because the height of my heels was hurting the arch of my foot), if anyone would notice my hair was gritty, or that the boots made my calves look fat. But I knew the general impression was of hotness, so I worked it. And apparently I worked it rather well.
So I got my drink and headed back to work. Sitting in the tearoom reading and talking, when Mr Perpetually Single walks in and sits next to me. He's quite the boobs man. I'm still in my mega boobs outfit. Lunch is finished and we're still sitting around talking. I'm playing with my earring (I'm a fidgeter) when it undoes. And falls out. I track it as it falls, but not fast enough. I think its on me somewhere. I check my lap. No earring. I do a quick scan of the floor. No earring. I glance at my cleavage and somewhere in the back of my mind I hear a soft belch.
I say softly, 'I hope it didn't go down there.' To which my boss quips, 'Into the abyss.' Smartarse. I check my lap again. It hasn't turned up. I play with my dress, hoping its hidden in there somewhere. Its not. The floor isn't giving up any secrets. I stare at the far corner of the room. I'm going to have to check my bra. Its gotta be there. My colleagues laugh. I slowly stand up and exit the room, face burning.
Hitting the change room I fossick in my bra. I can't find it. I give up and begin to get undressed. Shaking out this bit of my dress and poking that. Still no earring. I get back into my work uniform (the fuuugly one) and head back to the tea room for one last check.
Fucker was on the floor under the table the whole time.
I didn't feel it though. I was wondering if my boobs were too out there, if I was walking funny (because the height of my heels was hurting the arch of my foot), if anyone would notice my hair was gritty, or that the boots made my calves look fat. But I knew the general impression was of hotness, so I worked it. And apparently I worked it rather well.
So I got my drink and headed back to work. Sitting in the tearoom reading and talking, when Mr Perpetually Single walks in and sits next to me. He's quite the boobs man. I'm still in my mega boobs outfit. Lunch is finished and we're still sitting around talking. I'm playing with my earring (I'm a fidgeter) when it undoes. And falls out. I track it as it falls, but not fast enough. I think its on me somewhere. I check my lap. No earring. I do a quick scan of the floor. No earring. I glance at my cleavage and somewhere in the back of my mind I hear a soft belch.
I say softly, 'I hope it didn't go down there.' To which my boss quips, 'Into the abyss.' Smartarse. I check my lap again. It hasn't turned up. I play with my dress, hoping its hidden in there somewhere. Its not. The floor isn't giving up any secrets. I stare at the far corner of the room. I'm going to have to check my bra. Its gotta be there. My colleagues laugh. I slowly stand up and exit the room, face burning.
Hitting the change room I fossick in my bra. I can't find it. I give up and begin to get undressed. Shaking out this bit of my dress and poking that. Still no earring. I get back into my work uniform (the fuuugly one) and head back to the tea room for one last check.
Fucker was on the floor under the table the whole time.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
PMH
I woke up with a massive case of PMH the other morning. For those playing at home, PMH is pre menstrual horniness. Gals, you know, its the kind of crazy animal instinct that hits you when your body knows it won't be getting any for the next few days.
Its the kind of crazy where you just want to grab a guy, throw him back on the bed, rip his clothes off and have your way with him. If he's still asleep you just jump on and kiss him as he wakes up. Maybe not his face, cuz it can be dangerous being in someones face as they wake up. But straddling him and kissing his neck, caressing his chest or other assorted body parts is very effective. And very obvious as to exactly what you want. There's nothing slow or sensuous about it. It gives a new definition to 'hard and fast'. You want to taste and feel every inch of him, but at the same time you want him inside you. Its animal and instinctive. Its rushed but not hurried. Its being in control, out of control. There's no sense and thought involved. All you can think about is what you need at that exact moment, where it would feel best and what will make your back arch and you claw at whatever's in reach, screaming for more. Its all about the now.
He doesn't have to do anything but lie there and not be scared. And maybe provide a little hair pulling. Even if it means you'll be late for work you can't resist it. You have to have it, consequences be damned.
It is summed up best as this. Its the kind of urge that can only be sated when you think you might have bruised your kidneys.
I thank my ovaries that it only lasts a few hours at the most. Of course most of the time I'm *something*something*H. But thats a natural part of being a redhead I guess. Makes the crazy horny so much more fun. ;P
Its the kind of crazy where you just want to grab a guy, throw him back on the bed, rip his clothes off and have your way with him. If he's still asleep you just jump on and kiss him as he wakes up. Maybe not his face, cuz it can be dangerous being in someones face as they wake up. But straddling him and kissing his neck, caressing his chest or other assorted body parts is very effective. And very obvious as to exactly what you want. There's nothing slow or sensuous about it. It gives a new definition to 'hard and fast'. You want to taste and feel every inch of him, but at the same time you want him inside you. Its animal and instinctive. Its rushed but not hurried. Its being in control, out of control. There's no sense and thought involved. All you can think about is what you need at that exact moment, where it would feel best and what will make your back arch and you claw at whatever's in reach, screaming for more. Its all about the now.
He doesn't have to do anything but lie there and not be scared. And maybe provide a little hair pulling. Even if it means you'll be late for work you can't resist it. You have to have it, consequences be damned.
It is summed up best as this. Its the kind of urge that can only be sated when you think you might have bruised your kidneys.
I thank my ovaries that it only lasts a few hours at the most. Of course most of the time I'm *something*something*H. But thats a natural part of being a redhead I guess. Makes the crazy horny so much more fun. ;P
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