taboo
A look at words, acts, and fetishes that are often unjustly considered taboo.
The Truth Behind Men Who Fake It
Women do it all the time without crucifixion, yet when a man admits to faking an orgasm he is cornered and questioned like a criminal on the stand. How, why, and when are just a few of the issues most have with this uncomfortable and taboo topic. We find it almost impossible to believe that his scrunched up face, stuttering moan, and whole body convulsion could have actually been an act, a perfected theatrical masterpiece! Not that a man isn't capable of such trickery, but let's be honest, when men lie, they keep information and expression minimal. So unless this man is a professional actor, I can't imagine him being able to pull this off, however, it turns out I'm wrong. Like 28% of all men, wrong. Granted this a study done where men had to confess, but still just the fact that it is more than 2% was enough to blow my mind.
By Jus L'amore8 years ago in Filthy
Sexual Fantasies
Many people have different sexual fantasies from their teenage years to their adult years, but they don't always express what they are thinking about or what they are feeling. Most fantasies may include different sexual positions, sexual partners and surroundings, but they may also involve different characters. Yes, I meant characters as if they were from console games, books, or animated movies/TV programmes.
By Tanisha Dagger8 years ago in Filthy
I Love You Daddy
In a world of Fifty Shades of Grey, we all now like to think ourselves as open minded. But this open mindedness is often suppressed and rarely allowed out to play. It's a secret side to our personality that we don't let most people see—only those who we are closest to and in these types of relationships with.
By Skylar Rose Pridgeon8 years ago in Filthy
The Hunter
He stepped out of the shadow he had been standing in for the last hour, watching her from the bushes in the alley behind her house. She had been arguing with her man for half that hour, walking back and forth through the house. He, the hunter, had been stalking his prey waiting for a time to strike. The hunter was commando under his loose brown pants, his camo jacket perfectly hid the eight inch-razor edged knife, and his boots and ski mask made it that much more difficult to see him in the bushes.
By Amanda Tucker8 years ago in Filthy
Lolita Syndrome Part 1
I never expected to be in this type of situation. Also, I never expected to like it. His hand is on my thigh underneath my parents' dining table. I remain calm as his fingers tickle their way up the short black skirt he'd complimented me on earlier. As I eat my mother's famous baked chicken, I was slowly becoming turned on.
By T.C. Bosarge8 years ago in Filthy
5 Things You’ll Be Surprised to Learn about Strippers
For the vast majority of people, strip clubs have an unmistakable aura of mystery and danger around them. That’s because our image of strippers is invariably tainted by their depiction in movies, books, and songs, which often paint an unrealistic and/or romantic picture of the industry at large. So, if you really want to know what being a stripper is all about, here are five surprising facts about this fascinating profession:
By Andrea Dawson8 years ago in Filthy
Bones
What do you need in order not to fall apart? Bones, good bones. As he touched me I felt it. I felt emotion passing from deep within his bones to mine. I was feeding off of it. Hoping to decipher him piece by piece. Lying next to him gave me so much comfort. In this way, I wanted only him. He is everything I could have asked for, given to me, for me, he is my sun and stars. I only want the best for him, always, I longed for him every time we were apart. We are one and the same. He tries to be soft, but he is too heavy handed for that. His hand touches my skin, crossing slowly over my body, finally holding onto my pelvic bone. I feel his hand sink into me, pulling me closer, deeper into him. I am rested and ready, ready to experience him again, for the third time. I am so powerful, though I allow him to think he is. I turn to face him, looking at him now, resting with eyes closed, I wonder what he is thinking behind that skull of his. He is daydreaming, daydreaming of us of course. Ecstatically I pounce to the other side of the bed, hoping he will follow, but as dominant and as strong as he is, he does not, instead he grabs me by my legs just to pull me back to him. I think about this for a second, and I disagree, and as soon as I get the chance to, I pounce right back to the other side of the bed. This time he follows.
By Kenya Carpenter8 years ago in Filthy
Body
There's something about being naked alone with a body belonging to another. Passion is shown by the way he touches my body, it’s no longer foreign to him, he is confidant in his grasp. He lays next to me intertwining our legs together. My body melts into his. My happiness is right there leaning my head on his chest hearing his heartbeat still beating at a fast pace from his recent orgasm. He is relaxed but undeniably happy from our encounter. Nothing separates my body from his, yet still I crave to be closer to him. I tell him I'm happy that I am with him in that moment. And even though we are right there together I tell him I miss him and I have missed him, I missed all the time we could have spent together, because for some reason I always want to be around him yet we can only spend limited amounts of our time together. Our bodies belong together. One and one, body and body, skin and skin, bones and bones.
By Kenya Carpenter8 years ago in Filthy
Derriére Extraordinaire
I think the double standards men face are pretty sickening. Think about it, if I strolled in a park full of kids and sat down by myself, some parents would look at me and think, "What the hell is he doing here without a kid, he's probably a pedophile!" If a woman did the exact same, people wouldn't question it. A bisexual man is gay. A bisexual woman is a plus. If a man shows his feelings, then he could be referred to as a weak pussy. Well, I'm Mars Brown and I can give two bleeps about double standards. I'm emotional, I love to communicate, I can curl up on the couch and watch a rom-com and enjoy the fuck out it, with some Talenti Pistachio Gelato and not feel an ounce of "gay" coming over me. In fact, I feel like being who you are at all times makes you more manly than a "Macho in the streets, but a lame in the crib (didnt want to say sheets)." If I saw a guy that's handsome, I wouldn't say "Damn, he's handsome!" But if someone said "Damn, that guy is ugly," I would honestly say, "No I think he's a handsome dude." I'm secure with myself, a lot of men aren't. My security within myself led me to write this article on "Derriére Extraordinaires." What's that? It's what I call women that like to eat butt. You're thinking "Wait, I thought this was about men?" It is! So sit back, grab a drink. Shut the hell up and enjoy.
By Mars Mellow8 years ago in Filthy
The Skin. Top Story - September 2017.
There's something about skin. The way it feels when two bodies are together, relaxed and comfortable, it's bliss. I love the way he caresses me. I feel a connection. He and I, together for a moment, and he stares into my eyes like he's inspecting. He could remember my eyes perfectly and pinpoint their detail in writing. He touches me softly reminding me that even rough large hands can handle a dainty frail glass-like figure such as mine with a grasp so empowering. His hand ever so slightly grazes over my face, he likes to assert his presence before pushing his lips onto mine. We begin folding into one another, exchanging parts of ourselves for parts of the other.
By Kenya Carpenter8 years ago in Filthy
Life of a Sex Addict
I have been sexually active for 2.5 years. Over two of these years were spent with one man, while the past 3 months have been spent with over 40 different men and a few women. I do not really know how this all started, I can only tie this sexual behavior of mine to being heart broken and going on a sex spree to try and cure my broken heart. I got over my heart break fairly quick actually, but I stuck with the sex. I realized that having sex is fun, feels good and makes me a happier woman.
By Maude Zeinner8 years ago in Filthy
Every Single Day.... Top Story - August 2017.
I see them every single day. They come from all forms of life, from the business suit to the city workers on lunch. They walk into the business next door to my office. I can always tell when they have placed an ad in the local online classifieds because the flow is much heavier. On an average day, they come in every 30 minutes to an hour in almost a uniform fashion. Not once have I ever seen a female walk in the door, not once in the last six months.
By Shae Lynn Sanders8 years ago in Filthy
