Would I? Could I? Should I?

Would, could, and should. Three different questions surrounding pretty much everything we do in life. 

That extra donut. Would I like it? Oh yes. Could I eat it? Well, I’m still hungry, so, yes! ‘Should I eat it? No! For fucks sake no! I’ve eaten too many already….and my jeans already feel tight these days!  Get the idea? 

Being fucked by a random homeless person.

The notion of being fucked by a gentleman off the road, a homeless man who is unwashed, smelly and generally grungy is strongly appealing. It is a masturbatory fantasy that worked nicely. 

Could I? I have a vagina that is almost permanently wet, and the mental image of the act attracts me, so, yes. I could.

Would I? Hmmm probably not, but never say never. 

Should I? Are you fucking kidding me? Hell no! AIDS, syphilis, gonorrhoeae, hepatitis….take your pick. The chances are high…very high. Ah, but what if I used a condom? Nope….condoms can break! 

So, you get the idea. Let’s deal with the unpleasant one now…especially as I’ve been asked about it a lot. 

WARNING. DONT READ IF TOILET SEX OFFENDS YOU. PASS BY WITH LOVE AND PEACE. 

Being peed on, or peeing on others, or peeing my panties, you all know about by now, so I won’t repeat it. In Germany though, there is ‘hard’ sex. Coporophilia….scatology. 

I’ve never done it….but I have a friend who has. Here’s what she said. “He was squatting over my tummy. He was also wanking and the plan was he would cum over my body…face…hair…whatever. I like the position of him squatting over me. Maybe it was a hidden aspect of a desire I never knew I had. Anyway, he got to the point and shot his load, but he also pooped on my tummy. He was like so apologetic. There wasn’t much of it, but there was enough! No denying it had happened. He started to get up, to get something to clean me up but I stopped him….and…..now don’t freak out…..I….I…asked him to…well..finish. He took a little persuading, but he did. Anna, I’ve never felt more aroused in my life…and we’ve done some pretty crazy things. I was pouring wet between my legs and I came just by squeezing my thighs! Fucking hard too. Since then, we’ve done it twice more…and once, the other way around, if you get what I mean. 

So….scatology…..would I? Yes, if it felt right at that moment. Could I? I think so, but there are mental restrictions or controls that I would have to overcome. Should I? Well…I can’t say a definitive no to that. 

Ok. You can open your eyes again now. 

I’ve been thinking of why I enjoy ‘age play’ so much, not only with people, but when I’m masturbating. I think, for me anyway, it’s to do with how I went through puberty and adolescence, and the feelings and desires I had back then but were too scared to act on. I was 14 when I fantasised regularly about being fucked. I wanted to be fucked so badly I could fucking taste it. I also wanted girls when I was 13. I wanted to lick a girl’s cunt. I knew it with an absolute certainty. But at that time in anyone’s life, there’s a nervousness, a hesitancy, some kind of bigger care for the social ramifications of it all. 

At 13, and not far into being 13, you can’t really ask someone, even your best friend if you can kiss her pussy. Also, at 14, oh you can get laid easily enough, but no boy that age is capable of holding off, or pulling out. It’s the quickest way for a girl to get knocked up…and to get a reputation as a slut…boys talk…and exaggerate too.

So my interest in age play now is based on several things. For one, with no pubes and micro-tits, I can actually look 14 or 15. For two, I can now (legally) do the things I might have wanted to do back then. For three, The Lovely Chris, is superb at age play. He can utterly convince me that he is a teacher seducing his student, or that his student is seducing him, and he does it to perfection. 

So the answer to all three questions regarding age play are resounding Yes, Yes, Yes. 

Would I fuck a much older man? 

Well….I do know such a man. Albert is 78. His wife died three years ago, but it must be ages…maybe even decades since Albert had sex. His wife had been very unwell for a very long time. I visit him once or twice a week, and sometimes, very rarely, but unmistakably sometimes, I’ve seen that gleam in his eye…that little twinkle of sexual desire. 

So, would I? Yes. I’ve been thinking about the next time I see that look maybe feeding it with a little panty exposure, or something a little lewd in the conversation. If Albert responds further, then yes, I would certainly give him whatever he was capable of. 

Could I? Could I bear to have this elderly man inside me (if he could get hard enough) feel his cock in me, and let him cum up me? Yes. Definitely. In fact, call me perverse, I’d get a buzz out of it. Anyway, if his last words were “Ada (his wife’s name) I’m coming!” It would be true in both meanings of the phrase!

Should I? Hmmm…well….probably not. I don’t know if his heart would stand it, but then again, that’s the way I’d like to go. Mid fuck, or just as I climax. Yep…there are worse ways. Also, being the perverse fucker I am, I’d rather enjoy explaining to the attending police and eventually the coroner how Albert met his demise. Then again, Albert is incredibly fit for his age. He walks miles every day and ‘feeble’ is definitely not the word to describe his stature.

Ok, Anna, we get it. There’s not much you wouldn’t do….so, tell us, what wouldn’t  you do. There must be some things that are off your extensive sexual menu,

Fuck! I haven’t even thought of it that way round. Er…..let me think a minute.

Well, that took a while, but since you ask…

Fucking any of my permanent staff. Big no-no as far as I’m concerned.

Animals. I know a girl who gets her jollies from letting her dog lick her…but yuck…no, not for me. Watching large animals fuck does turn me on, but I’d never countenance any form of animal sex for myself. 

Drugs to enhance sex? No. No need. I can already cum hard enough for me to pass out. No matter what the drug, I don’t need it, neither do I need the risk of whatever else might be in there. 

Strangulation  yes, I’ve heard strangulation and deoxygenisation can considerably enhance orgasms, but again, no need, plus I’ve actually held a hyoid bone in my hand (thanks Tig) and seen how fragile they are. As Tig said “The bone snaps, and instantly, the tissues around it swell….cutting off the airway. Unless someone is on hand to perform a tracheostomy it’s game over.” I love sex…I mean really love sex, but I don’t believe sex is to die for.

I honestly can’t think of anything else. If you think of anything, ask me, and I’ll tell you. 

Well, my lovelies, you’ve waded through the treacle of my deranged mind, so here’s your reward. 

Yesterday. Brilliant sunshine, sitting on a chair on my balcony, looking out over my estate. The sun actually feels hot! My boobs (I’m feeling like calling them ‘tits’ today) are feeling the sting of the sun, so I sit up, cross my arms and lift my t shirt off. I lie back with a sigh. Both the sun and my tits are grateful for the removal of the cotton. Even so, my nipples harden flexing against their little gold studs. I glance down….doesn’t every girl look at her tits? I wonder about rings. Miss `Brain chimes in….”Yes, small nipple rings…nothing vulgar…a tummy ring, of course, and a clit ring, and a thin 22 carat gold chain….linking them all together. Oh, and the chain permanently linked so you can’t take it off….maybe a gold padlock, with Emily keeping the key….your mistress decides when you are free. 

The subjugation imagery works almost instantly and I feel my panties getting wet. There’s no dress…or skirt. I’m just in my panties. I rub a couple of fingers over the material, and bring them to my nose. Mmmmmthe musky scent of arousal and that faint tang of pee….but then, these are the panties I’ve worn yesterday, and all night. Yes, I know, I know, but sometimes I don’t change my panties every day. Not until after I’ve cum in them at least. 

Hmm when did  I last cum? Not last night, and not yesterday. Yesterday was as busy as fuck and I didn’t get a minute to myself, not even to go for a pee. In fact when I got home, I burst through the front door and barely made it to the downstairs bathroom. Last night, there was an unpleasant urgency around the feeling. Today there’s a distinct sexual feeling to it.

I look down between my legs. White panties again? That’s four days in a row I’ve chosen white undies. Must be feeling virginal again…and that’s when it slaps me round the face. I am feeling virginal again. Anna, the virgin. A memory lances through me. I did something very like this at home when I was 14. I sat on a chair on my b;a coy, topless, in jut my panties. Now, like then, I lift my feet up onto the glass wall that separates me from a nasty fall. Now, like then, I slowly spread my feet until I can let my knees flop outwards and I’m showing my wet crotch to the skies. 

I reach down again. I can’t feel the wetness now, warm and slick on the outside of my panties. I pull the tin material aside now, as I did then. Back then, my heart was racing as I exposed my smooth sex to the world. I remember thinking…hoping…I’d released my sex scent into the world, and I hoped, by some magic, it would attract lovers as it spread its tendrils far and wide. 

Now, like then, I touched my engorged clit. Now, like then, my pulse raced as the electrifying touch coursed through me. Now, like then, I dared say the words. Softly at first, but growing in confidence. “Fuck me.” Then louder. “Fuck me”. Then with and urgency “Fuck me.” And then, loudly, at the top of my voice and as an orgasm tore through me “FUCK ME….FUCK MY CUNT.!”

Now, unlike then, I squirted….or pissed. Who either knows or cares?

Having a vulva soaked with one’s wetness horrifies some girls and they immediately reach for materials with which to clean themselves up.  Not me. I love the way it looks. I adore the shiny ness, the scent, the knowledge that this is pure sex. It is bettered only by the sight of semen leaking slowly from my hole, and the feeling as it trickles with infinitive slowness over my bum hole. 

But, as Hannibal Lecter would say, “Not today”

(PS…..if I had been Clarice Starling, I wonder how I’d have felt when Miggs threw a handful of cum in my face? PPS, I did so like how Jodie Foster reacted to that…how her mouth opened as if she might..just might lick it off her lips. Not bad acting from a lesbian.)