Archive for Indescretion


Posted in Random stuff about sex with tags , , , on December 21, 2018 by Accidental Masturbator

When you work as a freelancer, an invitation to a client’s Xmas party is more than welcome. A chance to actually meet some of the names you see on emails and the disembodied voices on phones. If it’s in a swanky bar and the drinks are on the house … even better!

For staffers, the stereotype sees colleagues sneaking off to the stationary cupboard together to drunkenly exorcise all the sexual tension that’s been building up in the office. But when you’re struggling to put faces to names, such opportunities are a low priority. You’re more worried about shagging the secret admiree of the person who books you.

Not that that stops you fantasizing. And when Continue reading

Of temptation and indescretion

Posted in Ball stretching, Fetishwear, Fixing a broken marriage with tags , , , , , on October 10, 2018 by Accidental Masturbator

Business used to take my Wife away from home on a relatively regular basis. Perhaps every couple of months. These were times when I would indulge my kinks. I could wear latex with impunity, fuck my Flashlight whilst watching porn in bed at night, enjoy a full day with my butt plugged, or spend 36hrs comfortably confined in my CB6000s.

Times change.
It is nearly a year since I chose to move into the spare bedroom, or My bedroom as We have come to refer to it, so some of these things are now easy. Though less so the fetishwear.
Changes at work have meant She doesn’t visit the business’s outposts nearly as often.
Until this week.
She is away.
And my inner perv has been a little revived by Continue reading

Women I’ve slept with, Part 2 : Post coital cigarette

Posted in Sex with other people with tags , , , , on January 13, 2012 by Accidental Masturbator

During my first few months as a student, “The Boys” (as we imaginatively refered to ourselves) started hanging out with a couple of girls one of our number knew from back home. And a new friend of their’s was Sita.

My very first memory of Sita is being sat in the darkened corner of the student disco with her, our tongues down each others throats, my hand in her bra and her hand massaging my crotch.

Continue reading

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