Your most active sex organ takes up two percent of your body mass. It never forgets about your desires and needs. It nags you, wanting more, refusing to relent. Your brain wants you to read this. Give in and ponder the power of suggestion, the tug of memory, the dissatisfaction of anxiety and the wonder of fantasy via some of the best sex writing on the web in today's sex blog roundup.
Meet Jefferson in the dark recesses after the jump.
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Sex Blog Roundup
by Jefferson
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'You know how you tell me how you'd love to know what it would be like to fuck me, baby?' My eyes opened wider, my hand shook a bit as I held the phone to my ear.
I muttered a, 'Yes?'
'How'd you like the next best thing? How'd you like to hear me getting fucked?!'
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Bling Bling: Act of Aggression
Then he turned me over and started pounding me doggy style, practically jack-hammering me into the mattress. I looked at my watch and saw about an hour to go, inwardly groaning. Because this kind of desperate, break-neck fucking rarely produces an orgasm for the guy, no matter how much faster he goes.
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At least a part of my problem lies in the fact that I finally realized that girls like me. This was not always so, in fact was so much the opposite that I'm still a bit like a kid in a candy store these days. Oh I can have her if I put a little effort into it? Okay, great! But what about her? And her? And her? And of course, I don't really want a bunch of girls, just one that I'm compatible with who understands me and so ridiculously hot that I'm unwilling to consider being with anyone else.
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Flashback: 21, Blonde Student, Nice, Sweet Adult
It didn't take long for me to be shown to the shower and after I finished, nearly dried up with my towel around my waist. Nicole was already wrapped in a towel of her own, around her delectable self; any feelings of arousal I had just increased at the sight of her. It didn't hurt that she was smiling at me, a nice sweet smile too. It was almost as if she really liked me.
Of course, it didn't really matter.
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Do you know how easy it is to make yourself a fully equipped dungeon? Between Home Depot and a few trips to a shop on Christopher Street that sells leather restraints which rival the best of the British workmanship, the cellar now serves that purpose. If you look closely you can find evidence of my love of BDSM in all rooms of my house, but they tend to be veiled, like the wrought iron chandelier in my bedroom that can either be lit with candles or is anchored in solidly enough for me to restrain you. In the basement there is no such pretext. God, thinking about getting Isabella down there, her clothes tattered and torn, tears streaking her cheeks that still bear my crimson hand print, makes it uncomfortable sitting here next to her. I feel the rumble of the beast as its growl reverberates through my throat.
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This is an open love letter to all of those older Doms who take pleasure and life, and even love, seriously. A tribute to those whose who understand that their strength lies not in their arms, their hands, or their cocks, but rather in the mind of their submissives.
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Thumbnail via nyc-urban-gypsy.blogspot.com
Previously: Sex Blog Roundup Archive