fetishes
Explore common and little-known fetishes. Learn how to satisfy a fetish and how to interpret the fetishes of your partner.
My Realistic “Dream Date”
I lay here wondering if I’m trapped in the idea and the need for my fantasies to be brought to life and if maybe what I need to be fulfilled is too much for anybody to actually satisfy me with. I mean most things I want done to me is normal but a bit different when it comes down to how I will reflect on it later on. I need a man that isn’t scared to dominate me in aggressive ways because as much as he needs to do that to me I want for him to truly understand why I’d appreciate any and all of it. Some people want to be abused and I am one of them. But only if i were to love him before and after all of it. That’s the trick. My heart is so closed off that I’m not sure if I’ll ever love anybody enough to be my aggressive protector. In ways I’m afraid I’m too stuck in my side of things where I can’t handle not being attracted to the man loving me. Looks aren’t exactly everything but he can still wear a mask over the face I love the most.
Keanna BarryPublished 3 years ago in FilthyYes, Mistress [MK.2]
In the amber glow of my salt-lamp, in those mellow hours of the morning, on a mattress rather than in a bed, I seek to identify the true quest of the day, if it differs to any of the others this week. While my stomach aches like a hungry prisoner I, only with traditional indifference, tinker with my testicles like a sculptor moulds his clay, stretching the flesh and reminding that intimate area that at least one hand can summon the strength to entertain it. Some deplorable pigeon coos, the jackdaws murmur, cars pass, nothing erects. Today is the first real allusion to winter, for these ultra soft breezes that sneak through my open window and stroke my exposed skin come with a definitive coolness, a cold message from the cold future, for Winter says, today: “I am on my way." This morning my leaping off the mattress, my lust for a shower, my want for apparel has been delayed. Instead, I listen like a dopey kid to the quiet and crisp whispers which allure to a frosty fate, and play with the hairy play-dough that dangles between my legs.
Oscar RichardPublished 3 years ago in FilthyYes Mistress.
In the amber glow of my salt-lamp, in those mellow hours of the morning, on a mattress rather than in a bed, I seek to identify the true quest of the day, if it differs to any of the others this week. While my stomach aches like a hungry prisoner I, only with traditional indifference, tinker with my testicles like a sculptor moulds his clay, stretching the flesh and reminding that intimate area that at least one hand can summon the strength to entertain it. Some deplorable pigeon coos, the jackdaws murmur, cars pass, nothing erects. Today is the first real allusion to winter, for these ultra soft breezes that sneak through my open window and stroke my exposed skin come with a definitive coolness, a cold message from the cold future, for Winter says, today: “I am on my way”. This morning my leaping off the mattress, my lust for a shower, my want for apparel has been delayed. Instead, I listen like a dopey kid to the quiet and crisp whispers which allure to a frosty fate, and play with the hairy play-dough that dangles between my legs.
Oscar RichardPublished 3 years ago in FilthyHow Good is Sex?
How good is sex? How goddamn good. Forget God. The orgasm is the focus of my longing, the image of my fulfilment. So I do.
Ramsay ShortPublished 3 years ago in FilthyThe Date That Made Me Perfect
I’m a bit of a loner. Or maybe the loneliest loser there could be. Those two aspects are what I am and behind it resembles a bitter end of believing I’ll never find love. I’ve tried everything. Dating apps, chat lines, bars and suggestions from friends. Nothing seems to work for me. I’m not sure if I’m not made for love or if maybe I’m just not meant to be saved. Which ever it is I’ve made a name for myself by being the bitch no one wants. It’s troubling because in my entire life I’ve never felt sexually satisfied or emotionally involved so I can never tell if maybe it’s the blame on my end or if what I’m looking for is too spontaneous of a happening and that’s why I haven’t been pleased with my past relationships.
Keanna BarryPublished 3 years ago in FilthyWhy Do People Have Foot Fetishes?
Sexual trivia, an area that always seems to catch people's attention. A topic that feels naughty and exciting to discuss. An act that everyone wants to be good at. When it comes to uncommon knowledge about sex, there will always be a fascination with fetishes.
Nessy WriterPublished 3 years ago in FilthyThe Shoe Salesman and the Beauty
A woman’s foot is the most gorgeous thing in the world. In fact, I consider it the basis of all human endeavors. Yeah, I have a kink but it doesn’t hurt anybody.
Gaylon EmerzianPublished 3 years ago in FilthyKitty Play
He was tired. It had been a very long day and his boss's disregard for any improvement ideas within the company got to him.
sith queenPublished 3 years ago in FilthyMy Week as a Financial Submissive
Started with Coffee My trip down the rabbit hole of financial submission was brief, but massively impactful. I am a switch sexually and whether I dominate or submit really depends on my partner. I am happy either way and thoroughly enjoy catering to the needs and preferences of my partner.
Luke Greene EroticaPublished 3 years ago in FilthyHands Only
I rest patiently on my knees before you, hands placed on my thighs. You slide your feet into my lap, running them over my thighs as you do.
Greene EroticaPublished 3 years ago in FilthyFight Night
They had the ring set up in her basement. Dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, their fight only had but one rule. The first to tap out or climax loses. The winner gets to have their way with the loser for the rest of the night.
Dwayne ChapmanPublished 3 years ago in FilthyThe Birthday Boy
Thanks to online social networking everyone at work knew it was my birthday today. By 9 a.m. I had wanted to crawl under my desk and hide. I’m not good with people, hell, I’m not good with pets. I just don’t know what to say, where to look, when to nod, or mumble something sympathetic and pat the person, or animal, on the head… this day was torture. Somewhere in the bowels of hell Satan was pointing and laughing as I dodged awkward hugs and tried to avoid eye contact while dozens of people I barely knew wished me happiness and good fortune. I feigned a heavy workload and kept my stare fixed on my glowing monitor.
Celeste MoodyPublished 3 years ago in Filthy