What makes something filthy? I think we all have our opinions on that but I’m going to start by giving you a couple of different scenarios before I give you my thoughts.
Scenario one
He pushes me to my knees in front of him, telling me to keep my arms behind my back and slides his soft cock between my lips. I moan as I savour his taste, flicking my tongue over his head the way I know he likes, I feel him growing harder, filling me more. When he’s ready he grasps my head to keep it still and I know what’s about to happen. Starting off slowly before building up speed he thrusts into my will get mouth, increasing the speed, I gag, tears streaming down my face. When he’s ready he pulls out, twisting my hair through his fingers he drags me over to the bed, pushes me face down. His weight keeps me pinned down as he slides his cock deep into my arse in one push, making me cry out. He keeps going, not thinking of me but using me as a tool for his pleasure, I feel his cock throb just as he moans when his orgasm is reached. He gets up and walks away leaving me sore, empty and needing more as his cum leaks down my filthy thighs and mingles with my own juices.
Scenario two
You walk into the room and she’s standing there in front of you. Her shocking pink hair catches your eye initially, then as your eyes work their way down, drinking in how she looks in her pearl lingerie with the pretty lace trim and matching white stockings. You admire how they cover her rounded breasts yet can’t disguise her nipples protruding through the fabric and the way the material exposes her fleshy buttocks fills you with longing. Finishing off her outfit is the most beautiful pair of electric blue stilettos.
She turns away for a moment reaching for something on the table behind her, a split second later a cream pie hits you right in the centre of your chest before it slides down and hits the floor. She gives you one of those grins, the one with a glint in her eye that means she’s waiting for your revenge. You move towards her, grabbing a bottle of chocolate sauce as you go, you squeeze it over her head, the sauce contrasting with her pink hair leaving it flattened and matted, and she squeals before wrinkling her pixie like nose and letting out her throaty giggle.
You both continue to cover each other in cream, custard and sauce. The cool stickiness of each combines as you rub against each other, her lingerie tight against her skin now, nothing is left to the imagination anymore. You wrestle each other on the ground, laughing as you’re unable to get a firm grasp on each other. As your bodies rub together, your cock has never felt this hard, never ached for her the way it is now. You pull yourself away, try to help her up so you can continue in the shower but she has other ideas. She gives you that grin again and instead of standing with you she pulls herself onto her knees in front of you and starts gently licking the cream off your cock, just with the tip of her tongue, telling you how good you taste. You want to stop her but as she takes your full length into her warm mouth you don’t have the strength, instead throw your head back and enjoy the sensations knowing you’re not going to last much longer, she uses those long slow strokes you love to much. Just as you’re about to cum you pull away from her eager mouth and cum all over her face, loving the way is looks as it drips and mingles with cream that’s still there.
My thoughts
We all have our an opinions on what filth means to us. Whilst some may think the first scenario is filthy, I don’t agree. Sure, it makes my cunt twitch but it is just an everyday fantasy. Sir may call me filthy for thinking such thoughts but I know he says it with a wicked grin.
For me, filth needs to have something else, something a little more out of the ordinary. We use the expression as a way of turning on ourselves and those we share our thoughts and ideas with. It’s something a little edgier and more transgressive than normal.
I’m a self confessed clean freak, I don’t mind getting dirty but I like getting clean again. Even on those occasions where he gives me a wonderful, wet, squirty orgasm my first thought is please let me have hit the towel that’s been laid out for that very reason! So, whilst I relish being a filthy girl being covered in cum and lube, smelling of pure sex, for me it’s the second scenario that is pure filth.