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|Tuesday, June 21st, 2005|
|Tuesday, April 26th, 2005|
|Sunday, April 24th, 2005|
My first truly shameful confession- I like a Nickelback song.
Figured You Out.
It's corny, overproduced radio rock, but the lyrics really speak to me. They play into a very longstanding fetish of mine.
"I like your pants around your feet
And I like the dirt that's on your knees
And I like the way you say please
While you're looking up at me
You're like my favorite damn disease
And I love the places that we go
And I love the people that you know
And I love the way you can't say "No"
Too many long lines in a row
I love the powder on your nose
And now I know who you are
It wasn't that hard
Just to figure you out
Now I did, you wonder why
I like the freckles on your chest
And I like the way you like me best
And I like the way you're not impressed
While you put me to the test
I like the white stains on your dress
I love the way you pass the check
And I love the good times that you wreck
And I love your lack of self respect
While you're passed out on the deck
I love my hands around your neck"
For as long as I can remember, the very thought of a girl that was a self-destructive, coked-out, whore has really turned me on.
When I was 10 years old I would fantasize about growing up and having girlfriends that were junkies and prostitutes.
Watching a girl snort a line or drop an E has definitely been known to get me hard.
Later in the song, he talks about how he hates all those same qualaties. The simultaneous attraction and repulsion is a wonderful part of the charge. Who knew you had it in you, Chad?
Even the "figured you out" lyric plays into it for me. For as long as I can remember, I've always been attracted to things that are bad and dirty and depraved. When I see some slutty chick getting loaded, it's like she's sending me a signal, letting me know she's one of my kind.
She's lost too.
Fuck, I wouldn't have it any other way.
|Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005|
|Flying High Again
Smoking weed has the most delightful effect on M- it makes her really horny and really passive.
“Just do what you want with me,” she said.
As I kissed and rubbed my way down her back to her juicy, sweet ass, a deliciously obscene aroma whispered to me that this was going to be a night to remember.
It didn’t take more than that for me to have her ass in the air and my face buried between her delightfully sweaty and ripe cheeks. I really indulged, pulling her big, round globes apart and pressing my nose right up to her fragrant brown flower. I sniffed, I tongued, I wiped her moist crack-essence all over my face. M was just drifting along in her hazy little dream world and I was in heaven.
After gorging myself on ass, I needed relief. I turned M over on her side and slipped into her pussy from behind. She was a thrilling combination of semi-conscious and soaking wet. I worked in and out slowly, lingering, greedily taking the time to savor every inch and second of repeated penetration. Weed is like an industrial strength dose of Lastalnite for me, so it felt like I was pushing in and out of her, feeling her get wetter and more open with each thrust, forever. The sheer length of it began to take on a wonderfully vulgar quality.
Gradually, M began to “come to.” Magnificent little slut that she is, her first instinct was to take my hand and place it on her throat. I began to squeeze and she let out a little whimper, fucking back against me hard. I gripped down harder and started to really pound away at her. I felt complete surrender from her. I could read her thoughts- “Split me in half.” “Squeeze the life out of me.” “I don’t care. Use me. Abuse me.”
Now, I’ve strangled M plenty of times before, and given her some monstrous power fuckings, but I don’t remember ever going this hard before. I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle it and I didn’t really care. It’s an amazing rush to turn off your rational brain and just surrender to your body’s desire for what feels good in that moment, without a second’s consideration for the consequences. Even if it had been too much for her, she’d have had no way of letting me know with my vice grip cutting off her air. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, some semblance of coherent thought was dwelling on what a bad idea this was, both of our judgments as severely impaired as they were, but, honestly, that just made it that much hotter for me. The recklessness, the abandon, it’s like a drug in its own right.
“Yeah, you like that? You like being a fuck doll just for my pleasure? You like me pounding away at you with the stink of your ass all over my face? I can still taste your ass on my lips, you dirty slut. Can you smell it?” The only response I got was a tiny, wet gasp. I absolutely flooded her. I thought come was going to leak out her nose.
“Good girl,” I told her, stroking her hair as she began to drift off for good.
I could still smell her on me when I woke up the next morning. We don’t like to talk about it the next day, but I know she knew exactly what I was thinking whenever my gaze would linger a little too long on her turtleneck over brunch. Making a girl blush in front of her Mother is a sweet delight all its own.
|Sunday, February 27th, 2005|
Damn, that bathtub scene was really fucking hot.
|Wednesday, February 16th, 2005|
|Open your mouth and close your eyes . . .
I really want to piss on a girl.
I'm a little surprised that with all the depraved shit I've gotten into that I haven't done this yet, but, like they say, tomorrow's a new day.
The thought of doing it with some kinky role-playing chick that's into degradation doesn't do it for me though. How is it really degrading and humiliating if you agree to it and plan it ahead of time?
Why pretend when you could have the real deal?
I want to do it with a completely vanilla young thing, someone who’s never even considered this kind of thing, the very first time we hook up, before she knows anything about my depravity.
In the middle of our by-the-numbers encounter, I'll just aim at her face and let 'er rip, completely by surprise. I love to picture the look of shock and disgust on her face as she realizes what's happening. I think that my abandon at just letting the piss fly right there in my bedroom will only compound her terrible surprise.
I can't wait to see how she'll react. Horror and rage are likely. She probably won't just grab her clothes and flee the apartment, running out into the night with her hair dripping piss, although that would be hot. Leaping out of bed and locking herself in the bathroom might be a natural reaction in the moment, but it's funny to think about the increasingly awkward and humiliating scenario that would arise when she ultimately had to come out to leave.
Funny enough, I think one very likely reaction will be to just lie there and take it, in stunned, disgusted silence. I've found that a lot of girls are so self-conscious during a first time hook up, so internally awkward, unsure and off balance, that you can pretty much get away with whatever you want and they won't be able to process an appropriate reaction fast enough to stop you. It’s funny how deeply ingrained social convention is, even in the most extreme circumstances. Quickly, the moment to object has passed and it’s easy for her to feel trapped in what feels like a kind of silent, terribly reluctant quasi-consent.
I love to think about their regret afterwards. "How did I let that happen?" "Why didn't I say something?" "Why didn't I stop him?"
Her friends ask her conspirationally how things went and, too ashamed to tell them anything, she stammers out some noncommittal response and quickly changes the subject.
Haha, I love it.
|Tuesday, February 1st, 2005|
|On Chubby Chasing
As a lifelong admirer of juicy, curvaceous women, I have observed an unfortunate phenomenon- some big girls think there is something wrong with guys who are attracted to their larger size.
It’s as if they’d prefer that a guy be attracted to them DESPITE their shape instead of BECAUSE of it. Obviously, most people want more than a physical attraction from a serious partner, but everyone deserves someone who finds them desirable.
I realize that this may often stem from not finding themselves beautiful and not being able to understand why anyone else would, and that the mainstream media’s tragically narrow portrayal of what is beautiful and sexy simultaneously creates and reinforces this negative self-image.
Still, it’s too bad.
A slightly funnier variation I’ve run into is the borderline plumpette who is offended upon learning that her suitor likes 'em large, as if to say “I’m not that fat, you jerk!”
|Friday, January 21st, 2005|
|Love This Drawing
Found this in another Journal and just had to add it to my collection.
Damn, that looks good.
|Wednesday, January 12th, 2005|
|Partner In Crime
There's something about a woman that has no sexual sympathy for other women that really turns me on.
I would love for some twisted, unfeeling bitch to be my partner in crime in thoroughly abusing and degrading an innocent little slut.
The thought of her getting off and cheering me on while I punish another whore is really hot.
"Yeah, choke that little bitch!"
"Oh my god! Her ass is so fat! Hahaha."
"Jam her face in my ass! How's that smell, you little whore?"
"What's the matter? Don't like it up your butt? Who cares! Pound that shit! Make it hurt!"
I have no shame about wanting to satisfy my own, twisted desires, even if it's at someone else's expense.
It'd be fun to play with a female accomplice as fucked up as I am.
|Friday, December 10th, 2004|
|Monday, December 6th, 2004|
I've shared a lot of depraved little tales here and have enjoyed every minute of it.
However, I'm curious to hear some stories from my female readers.
Ladies, what is the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to you sexually?
Don't spare us the gory details.
|Friday, November 19th, 2004|
|Angels With Dirty Faces
Smeared make-up, especially running eyeliner, drives me absolutely wild.
I don't really care how it got that way.
Did someone do something bad to you? Been crying your little eyes out? Or are you just a groggy, what-the-hell-happened-last-night kind of slut?
The combination of dirty, vulnerable and violated is really too much.
|Thursday, November 11th, 2004|
| ( Abuse? Please.Collapse )
I would have KILLED to have a neighbor like that when I was 8.
Damn, the thought of being 8 years-old and shaving some hot MILF pussy is turning me on right now.
I would never forgive my Mom for spoiling this situation for me.
|Wednesday, November 10th, 2004|
|Tuesday, November 9th, 2004|
“Do you know what that is?”
Her face burned red with shame.
“I said, do you know what that is?”
“ . . . .”
“What? I can’t hear you.” I could see a tear welling up in the corner of her eye.
“That’s right. Shit. Whose shit is it?”
“Mine,” she sniffled. She was kneeling before me, hands behind her back.
“How did your shit get on my cock?”
“Because . . . because I’m dirty?” she whimpered.
“That’s right. Because you’re dirty.” My cock, freshly plucked from her offending asshole, now rested an inch or two in front of her face. “Can you smell it?”
“Yes,” she said quietly, almost too embarrassed to speak.
“How does it smell?”
“ . . . .”
“No answer? Fine. You know what to do.”
She looked up at me, pleadingly, and managed to let out a “N-,” before catching herself. A low, wet rumble escaped her freshly plundered asshole and she winced in humiliation.
“C’mon, I won’t ask you twice.”
With silent resignation, she took me in her mouth. Broken, gagging with revulsion, tears streaming down her face, any last semblance of dignity completely wiped away.
It was a beautiful night.
|Wednesday, October 27th, 2004|
It's delightfully obscene how even fully clothed her delicious curves are still on full display- a big, round butt pressed into tight jeans, ripe breasts threatening to spill out of a tank top. Tits, hips, and ass busting out-it's as if she's built just for sex and it can't be covered up or contained, essentially naked and exposed at all times.
|Tuesday, September 14th, 2004|
|Anything Butt Girl
If I had a partner who was willing to take it in the ass everytime we fucked, I might never bother with her pussy.
Anyone else feel the same way?
|Wednesday, September 8th, 2004|
|Scent of A Woman
M and I were at the beach this weekend. We had just gotten back from a long bike ride and were rushing to get ready to meet some friends for dinner. My lust factor was in overdrive because the last few miles of our trip M had been riding in front of me and the site of her big, round bubble butt, packed into her tight, black Capri pants, swishing back and forth in front of me was really too much. As if that sight itself wasn’t enough to drive me crazy, I kept imagining her riding in just a skimpy black thong, her big, white globes shimmying up and down, glistening with exertion in the hot sun.
When we pulled up to where we’d parked the car, my head was swimming with desire. The site of her, all rosy and sweaty from the exercise and the sunshine, her boobs straining against her tank top as she caught her breath, a thin stripe of soft, round belly peaking out above her waist, was really driving me wild. I was very unhappy that we’d brought our friend B along with us. It was near impossible to keep up my end of the conversation on the way home, my cock was rock hard and was struggling to burst free of my pants. I was thrilled to drop B off and speed back to our place.
No sooner were we in the door then M was headed to the shower to get ready.
“Wait,” I said. She turned to me, a puzzled look on her face.
“I need your ass for 60 seconds.” She knows I don’t use the word “need” lightly.
She sighed and said “Sure, why not?” a slightly begrudging look on her face. That made it all the hotter for me. There’s nothing wrong with someone doing something *for* you. I have no problem with being indulged.
It took her a second to wiggle out of her pants, her skin still sticky from all the exercise. I was pleased, but not surprised, to discover that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. I told her to leave her cute, rose halter on. I love the way that a girl with just her top on emphasizes that her bottom is bare.
I told her to climb up on the bed and she did, lying down on her stomach, facing away from me. She looked back at me playfully. I told her to stick her ass in the air and she did. Teasingly, she positioned herself so as to keep her butt cheeks closed to me.
“C’mon, you know what I want.” I lowered my face down to within inches of her ass and she arched her back. The sight of her big, juicy cheeks slowly spreading in front of my eyes, her sweaty buns gradually coming unstuck from each other, was truly magnificent. There is something about a girl willingly displaying her asshole for my pleasure that never fails to set me on fire with lust and this time was no exception. My body involuntarily shuddered with desire as her pink and brown rosebud came into view, the fine hair of her buttcrack damp with perspiration.
If my cock was hard from the sight of her dirty little browneye winking at me from between her luscious buns, I thought it would practically explode when I caught the first whiff of the filthy, musky smell that came wafting out from her sweaty asscrack. I don’t know what it is about how I’m wired, but there’s something about a nosefull of female ass scent that literally makes me dizzy with lust. I actually get so turned on that I feel drunk and giddy. It’s like the high from the most amazing drug you’ve ever tried washing over you in one second flat.
As if the physical reaction her scent caused in me wasn’t enough, the psychological impact was pushing my arousal into total overdrive. This was the first time I’d had a chance to sniff M’s ass when it was quite so ripe. It was also the first time that she knew exactly what I was doing and why I wanted to do it then. She’s always known about my obsession with her ass, but had always made an effort to be clean before indulging my appetites. Just a few days before, under the truth-serum effects of Ecstasy, I had told her for the first time that the smell was a huge part of the turn on and if it had been a while since her last shower, all the better.
Up until the very moment she thrust her sweaty, smelly ass in my face, I had been regretting the “confession.” I feared it might make her more self-conscious about the possible scent of her butt and that I might miss out on the occasional dirty whiff due to increased hygienic vigilance. Man was I pleased that this didn’t turn out to be the case.
So there she was, face down, ass up, cheeks spread, her dirty hole and sweaty crack just inches away from my face, fully aware that I was sniffing her butthole, that I was doing it *because* it was extra dirty and smelly right then, and she was *letting* me do it. I can’t think of anything hotter than the wanton shamelessness of a girl letting you sniff the dirtiest, most private, most shameful part of her body. The whole thing was such a wonderful combination of submission and loving indulgence that I could hardly stand it. I barely had to lay a hand on my cock before I was blowing one of the biggest, hardest loads I could remember.
It took me a long time to come down from the physical and mental rush of that experience. Our friends must have thought I’d had a few tokes before arriving at dinner that night. Little did they know it wasn’t weed that I had inhaled to get high, but rather the filthy sweet aroma of M’s big, juicy ass.
|Friday, August 27th, 2004|
|Sexual Abuse + Time = Hot Lovin?
A friend of mine commented the other day that, unfortunately, women who had been raped or sexually abused often made for the hottest sex partners.
I've been thinking about this, and I think he's right. I think back to my personal experience and many of the hottest, most memorable fucks I've ever had were with girls who had some kind of sexual trauma in their past.
I'm sure anyone with even a minimal understanding of the human psyche can construct a few theories as to why this might be, so I don't really feel like going into all that here.
Just curious what others' experiences in this department have been. Any thoughts/stories?
On a related note, I must confess that the idea of leaving a psychic scar on someone, branding them for life with a traumatic sexual experience, is very arousing to me. To me it would be much hotter if they were at least partially complicit/consenting, because then their memory would be tainted by shame and guilt instead of just anger.
Some of those really hardcore, abusive porn scenes really turn me on for just that reason- the girls may easily be deeply traumatized by them, waking up crying in the middle of the night for years, but they will surely feel they have no one to blame but themselves for having agreed to such an awful experience. It's as if they've raped themselves.