#and discuss pegging

[rockyteriyaki]

The screenshot doesn’t crop when she sends it to Max, for some reason.

She’d wanted to only send the smaller three of the five size options, but now they’re all lined up in the WhatsApp chat, incriminating. A little staircase of silicone. The blue ticks next to the message light up one-two and Daniel puts her phone down on top of her face. Lets it balance precariously on her nose.

There’s a strobe light of notification. Max has sent the screenshot back with a confident iPhone-highlighter-circle over the longest strap-on dick length.

What, Daniel types, with one finger. No.

Why not?

Because, she types, and then stops. Everything sounds so insane and dirty.

“Max,” she shouts, and he shouts “what?” back at her from where he’s been playing FIFA in the living room. It’s one of those Alaska-in-Monaco days, where the sun never seems to go down. Daniel has been alternating between napping and scrolling around the sex toy website for the past three hours.

“Stop shouting,” she yells back, which is something her mum used to say as a conversation-ender when she was being difficult. She hears the chime of the pause menu, then Max is standing in the doorway in his socks, controller still in one hand. Daniel draws the covers up further around herself, feels like a prude.

“Not that one,” she says. Max frowns.

“I could take it.”

“Jesus,” Daniel puts the covers over her head. “Don’t—oh my god. Max.”

“What?” Max says, and chucks the controller onto his side of the bed, coming to crawl over Daniel’s blanketed legs. “If you had a dick it would be very big, like that.”

“Sexist,” Daniel says, even though it doesn’t make sense.

“Not sexist! Sex-y!” Max says, and then laughs at his own joke. When she still doesn’t come out of the blanket, he runs a hand over her torso. “Daniel. I would of course like it with any length. Like how you like my dick, yes?”

Max’s real-flesh-dick is probably a two or three on the strap-on scale and Daniel does like it, likes it in her mouth and in her hand and between her tits. She doesn’t like it inside her. Max, apparently, does.

“But if we get to choose, like how you sent,” Max continues, referencing the dumbfuck dildos on the idiot website. “I want that one.”

Daniel peeks out from the blanket. Max is looking at her, open and steadfast.

“Are you gonna let me, uh. Prep you, then?”

“Yes,” Max says, immediately, shifting closer so he’s sitting on her crotch, basically. “Yes, Daniel, yes. Now?”

“What? No, not now. But, like. Before.”

“Please,” Max says. It’s the same thing he’d said a few nights ago, when Daniel had pressed a curved knuckle to his hole and pushed. Before he’d come all over them both with barely anything on his dick. She allows herself a gratuitous four seconds to think about it: Max, split open. Max, taking more than he can handle. Max, taking it from her.

She must have some kind of expression on her face, because Max laughs a raspy laugh and crashes his face into where her sleep-sweaty hair falls against her collarbone.

“Just get all of them,” he says, against her. “We can work our way up.”

[sillyandsubby]

i love being mutuals with horny blogs because I'll see their wild posts about sex, and then I'll go to our dms and see the most normal conversation ever

[meerkatzthings]

straight men be like “i’m so freaky” and shit like that but if i were to mention pegging, all the sudden i’m the weird one??? what happened to the freakiness you were talking abt a second ago???

[lichtbrenger]

charlie and empathy

I’ve seen some thoughts about Charlie floating around (always love to read them, everyone has unique thoughts, namaste 🙏) and there seems to be a lot of discussion about Charlie having little actual empathy for the people around her and I don’t know if that is a fair assessment based on what we’ve been shown so far.

Long one so I’m putting it in the read more <3

The idea that Charlie has strong feelings of sympathy without feeling empathy kind of befuddles me, because the jury's still out on what sympathy actually is when compared to empathy. The most intuitive answer would be to separate them by saying sympathy is feeling for someone and empathy is feeling with someone. I wrote out a whole thing about this (that empathy does not directly motivate helping behavior like sympathy does and that empathy can lead to personal distress (a self-oriented reaction of distress to another’s suffering)) BUT I don’t think that’s the point I want to make here ���� hihi. So I’m solely going to focus on the thought that Charlie has low empathy.

If we look at Charlie and the way she expresses empathy (which, if psychometrically sound is seen as multifaceted in nature; usually cognitive, affective and somatic (sliding scales referred to as CASES)) the only thing she seems to be lacking is cognitive empathy.

Cognitive empathy allows us to understand and interpret emotions more analytically. This is sometimes also called empathic accuracy.

Cognitive empathy is more like a skill, a skill Charlie never got to work on. Charlie has lived her whole life in uhm, hell, where people don’t respond well to genuine feelings of empathy/sympathy from others. Charlie has tried and failed again and again in reaching out to people, and these experiences haven’t provided her with a reason why. A lot of people point to the Angel Dust Situation as a moment where Charlie shows that she’s not empathetic, but I don’t actually think that’s what’s going on there. Charlie seems to have a lot of empathy for Angel is this episode, she is however completely unequipped. Everything takes her by surprise, her emotions are intense and she doesn’t understand the stakes of Angel’s situation when she first tries to help. This doesn’t means she’s unempathetic, this means she’s in over her head. She doesn’t have a lot of experience with people actually wanting/ needing her help and she hasn’t had any experience in Angel’s scene. She fumbles, but a lack of empathy isn’t the issue. Her feelings aren’t wrong in these very complicated moments.  

I’ve also seen people discuss Charlie's relationship with Vaggie and with that I feel like people forget that Charlie knew nothing about Vaggie’s life before her until the meeting in heaven. We don’t know what Vaggie told her, but I doubt she told Charlie about her trauma or hangups surrounding coming down every year to slaughter her people. Charlie has no real reason to think Vaggie isn’t her equal, her partner, capable of handling the same things she does especially since that’s probably exactly what Vaggie wants her to think. Charlie trusts her and doesn’t have a reason to think she’s not being forthcoming. Again, naivete, maybe; a lack of empathy, I don’t think so. I also think that, while we as the viewer may recover quite quickly from the shock of Vaggie being an ex-exorcist, Charlie is allowed to give it a little more time. She’s been lied to (in quite a big way) by the one person who has stood by her and she trusted unconditionally. She’s known her for years (I assume) and there are certain patterns of thought and behavior that just wear into a relationship, and you can’t expect someone to snap out of that all of the sudden. Charlie realizing Vaggie has her own specific demons and what that entails for their relationship is going to take time, I think it would take time for anyone.

Tldr; I don’t think Charlie suffers from a lack of empathy, she suffers from a lack of practice and positive experiences, mostly. She’s ill equipped in some instances, and purposefully left in the dark in others.

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Even more random Edward Scissorhands thoughts:

I do not understand how Peg was the only housewife who saw Edward and immediately started mentally filling out adoption papers. Why did literally every other woman in their mid 30's-40's just decide to sexualize him (or see him as evil which is. yeah that's really awful too). Like?? Most/many of these women have children! Some have teenagers! I'll say once again that however old Edward is mentally I believe the movie wants us to think of him as the same age as Kim and the other teens. He's a kid!! Why are you all being so weird and creepy!!!

I think this bleeds into how they interact with him vs how Peg does in little ways, because except for Joyce they at least stopped being overtly creepy pretty quickly. Like when one of them takes him to get his hands sharpened and reaches over him to open the car door and Edward flinches. Whenever Peg gets the car door for him she opens it from the outside. Even when they all swarm him at the barbecue trying to give him food, none of them ASKED if he wanted any, they just started forcing it on him. Peg, a scene earlier asks if he's hungry and wants anything to eat before trying to give him anything.

There's also lots of this in the salon scene with Joyce which I feel like directly parallels when Peg brings Edward home really well. Like, Joyce is rushing though showing Edward the salon because she has ulterior motives. Peg, when she brings Edward home, lets him go at his own pace once they're inside (which I think was just for his safety, Peg knows her neighbors are ridiculously nosy), she starts showing him the house and when he wanders over to look at the family pictures she rolls with it and lets him take his time. Joyce is dragging the poor boy through the salon and she keeps grabbing him and yanking him away when he tries to look at stuff (she doesn't even acknowledge it when he mirrors her by lifting his hands up like she did which is a CRIME he's so sweet 😭). Also Peg, for all that she herds Edward inside, doesn't actually grab/touch him, she just lets her arm hover next to him to guide him along and stops as soon as they're inside (once again, she KNOWS her neighbors and what they're like so getting him inside was imperative). And their emotions towards Edward in those scenes are very different too, like Joyce is CLEARLY exasperated with him and that he's not following her agenda (even though he has no idea she has one) and that he wants to stop and look at things (how dare he be curious about a salon he might buy). Meanwhile Peg is very patient and not at all annoyed or frustrated, she actually seems happy that Edward wants to stop and admire her house and her family photos, it's sweet.

Also Edward gets really comfortable with Peg very, very fast. When she tries to touch his face in the mansion after they meet he flinches and pulls away, but like twenty minutes later when he's in her house and she brushes back his hair to look at his scars he actually leans into the touch. He's so trusting. 😭 Like I saw a comment on a video that said "Peg is lucky Edward wasn't a serial killer" but Edward was also lucky that Peg was kind and not the type of person to try and take advantage of or do something horrible to him.

So I guess tldr: why is Peg Boggs the only Mom in all of suburbia and why are the rest of the housewives Like That. Why did none of them decide to be Edward's cool aunts or something?

(I'd have met Edward and immediately started filling out adoption papers too and I'm only 28, the housewives have no excuse.)

[compacflt]

2013 beach trip? seems a little gay to me

yeah… you got me there… it kinda is…

It’s also the one where mav sprains his wrist

[howlitah]

The whole "manly man top Kylo" and "girly girl bottom Rey" in most reylo content pushes me away from the ship so so much, plus it's too out of character (and boring) imho

Let's be real guys,, Rey is a badass raw woman, TFA made it pretty clear for us, she's far from a delicate flower or a Disney princess, she lived most of her life so far in a desert planet collecting junk dammit she never had anyone to tell her "sit like a lady" bro she's raw

In fact, if anyone's a princess in the whole thing is Ben (literally lol)

I love the concept of soft mildly classy Ben (or gothy angsty Kylo XD) x tough badass "what? why do I need to shave?" Rey so so much, I wish there were more ship content creators that weren't so stuck to traditional gender roles...

[icewindandboringhorror]

Help complete the poem:

"I bear a heavy somethingnothing others seem to lack, they drift and frolic freely, no weight dragging at their backs. I keep with me my somethingnothing, nurturing the rot, as somethingnothing is my bones, it cannot be forgot. I long, I yearn, I try to swim, alas I never float, for there it is, the somethingnothing, tugging at my throat. Somedays I fear my somethingnothing is the whole of me, (now you pick the final line from choices below)

(context: In the game I'm making one of the characters you can talk to is some moody nervous exiled prince and in one quest you can help him with his writer's block on some of his poetry. This is one of the 'poems' (+ menu choice prompts) that I decided not to use in the game, but I thought it was kind of amusing on it's own and might would be fun to see the votes on)

[lpsgirl109]

PAYPHONE WHAT IF I FUCKING KILL YOU

[monksex]

it's actually so sad the period pentiment is set in isn't contemporary* with pegging because i NEED to see claus get fucked into the floor

[theboarsbride]

carnal urges telling me to write another bear wife smut snippet- (I have a book I'm severely behind on editing)

[pupsin]

i like listening to people discussing sex bcuz i think its very insightful cute and interesting to hear what makes someone tick, positions they like, nicknames they like and general turn ons. like actual serious discussion btw, it feels refreshing to hear it talked about in a very casual way like the weather is being discussed

[radiaking]

Do these new moderation rules mean I can’t talk about coop getting pegged anymore???

[localplaguenurse]

I'm having pg-13 thoughts about young Pantalone being a cocky playboy now that he's finally got some money and a little bit of power

[milflewis]

ted lasso walks around with his Ass Clenched but jason sudeikis doesn’t so this mean it’s an acting choice and i have questions for him

[reignpage]

Behind Every Great Man Is A Greater Woman

Summary: in which you get what you've wanted for a long time — your very own strap-on and a naked Nanami Kento on all fours Warnings: smut, married couple/established relationship, f!reader, pegging, femdom, sub!Nanami, use of sex toy, anal sex, penetrative sex, spanking, cum-eating, cum play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, praise kink, slight size kink, not proofread Word Count: 2.4k

Your husband is always more than happy to fulfil any and all of your fantasies — he’s a firm believer in a ‘happy wife, happy life,’ after all. When you proposed pegging, however, for the first time in your entire relationship, he hesitated. It’s one thing to be tied up and blindfolded, to chase you around the house masked, and to dole out punishments, but reversing roles in the most literal sense seems an especially daunting task. 

It’s not so much that he doesn’t trust you or that he doesn’t want to; rather, there are many factors to take into consideration, and there are lots of research and preparations to be done. Kento sat you down and opened a discussion about how serious you are about pegging. To be expected, you were very resolute, and when you gave him those puppy-dog eyes, he found it ever so difficult to say no. 

Precisely because of your ability to poke and prod at his heart, he’s on all fours, baring himself to you in a way he has never done before. It’s frightening. 

“Alright, sweetheart, please take out the plug slowly and gently, okay?” 

You give his ass cheek a playful bite just to listen to his sharp intake of breath, and to watch his balls squeeze tight and his puckered hole pulse. Oh, how gorgeous he looks — he’s still wearing his work socks, they’re held up his garters, upon your insistence, paired with just his dangling tie, which is knotted at his neck. 

Running a finger around the rim of the metal butt plug lodged firmly inside his asshole, you wait a second or two, building up that anticipation, and then push it in harder. He arches his back in shock. 

“S-sweetheart, don’t tease. I’m nervous as it is.” His fingers are clutching the sheets under him and his thighs are already quivering, whether from the cold, the humiliation, or the wait, you might never know. 

Kento winces when you pull the plug out, and again when you droop sticky, gloopy globs of lube all over the gaping hole, thrusting in two fingers he had already acclimated to into his burning hot hole sessions prior. Just from that act alone, he’s growing breathless, hips squirming forward until you hold one side firmly. “Okiedokie, Kenny. Let’s get this show on the road.”

A strap-on is tightened around your hips. He had chosen one with great reviews, finding a harness that shouldn’t cinch your skin and a dildo that isn’t too heavy for you to carry. It’s flesh-coloured; it soothed him to know something more serious and not so wacky would be entering him, you suppose. 

Thoroughly lubricated and stretched, you press the tip to his fluttering hole. “Remember our safe word, honey. I’ll stop as soon as you want me to.”

“T-thank you, love.” Steeling himself, he arches ever so slightly back into you. “I’m ready when you are.”

He’s releasing low, deep groans as you push in slow, being extra careful to make sure he’s adjusting as you go. Through the many practices you’ve had, Kento’s grown used to being filled with large phallic shapes, even going as far as getting through dinner and a movie with a plug secured firmly inside of him — it was quite fun to see him squirm, wince, and blush when you gave him a knowing grin. 

The pink hole engulfs every inch you feed into it, squelches of lube bubbling out and pooling onto the sheets. His balls hang low and you can’t help but fondle them, rubbing the seam, almost as an encouragement. 

Gasping, his huge hand flies up and grips the headboard, threatening to crack the wood under his clutch. “Warning! G-give me a warning, sweetheart. God, you know -hah- just how to touch me, don’t you? ”

"Sorry, Ken." You're biting your lip. You don't want to giggle and make him even more uncomfortable. 

Back muscles tensing up, you see vines of veins protruding from his arm, reminding you of just how big and strong your husband is, how easily he can flip himself over and have his way with you. But he won’t, because as difficult as it is for him to let go of his control, making you happy comes incredibly easy to him. 

“I feel full; is it all in yet?”

Rubbing, what you hope to be are, soothing circles on his smooth, pale cheeks, you admit, “Ken, sweetie, that’s just the head. Take deep breaths for me, okay? I’m going to push in further.”

A hand is extended back, and you smile and take it in yours, letting him squeeze it in comfort every time he feels like his knees might give out or he’ll pass out from the lightheadedness the confusing pressure is causing. 

When you bottom out with a slurrrrrp!, he cries out, tightening his grip on both your hand and the headboard simultaneously. There’s a mirror beside you two, and your eyes slide over to his reflection, releasing a breathy moan at the sight — his tie is dangling so innocently, contrasting amazingly with his drooling cock, flushed red and bobbing up and down every time he clamps down on your fake cock. 

“Oh, sweetheart, g-give me just a second.”

He’s groaning your name through gritted teeth when you start making shallow thrusts despite his request. You’d love to take it slow for him, but you can tell he doesn’t really want that. No, his cock is leaking too damn much to want to take things slow and you already know from having thrusted a much smaller dildo into his hole before that there’s a spot in his gummy walls that makes his eyes roll back and jaw hang wide he just can't resist. It's truly a shame you can't feel him squeeze around your real cock. 

Your fingers had gotten a taste of the dizzying heat inside of him, the softness and pudginess of his canal. If you had a real cock, you bet Kento would feel amazing wrapped around you.

“No, d-darling, please. Too fast, too —fuck, s-slow down—deep, I can’t!”

Licking your lips, you say, “What’s that, honey? Go faster? Deeper? Alrighty, hubby.”

Soon, you’re building up a pace, thrusting and grinding to stimulate his glans, letting the cockhead rub and tease against that squishy spot you can’t quite reach with your fingers. Sounds you’ve never heard from him are filling your ears, fuelling your hips. He releases your hand, holding the headboard instead. 

Dizzy and delirious with the foreign sensation, he can’t focus on what he’s feeling, he can only let out breathy moans and sudden hisses. A growing, burning wave is cresting inside the quivering hole you’re stretching out with every thrust and every roll of your hips. Somewhere deep in his mind, he muses that maybe this is payback for all the times he’s overstimulated your poor pussy and pulled out orgasms after orgasms despite your pleadings.

You reach over, palming his sweat-soaked tie and tug his head back. He gasps. 

“Ken, look at yourself, baby. Look in the mirror. You’re so -ha- flushed and sweaty. Gosh, you look damn -ngh!- g-good enough to eat.” You’re laughing, nails digging into the juicy flesh of his ass, desperate to maintain your grip through the thin layer of sweat on his skin. 

Glasses fogged up, he’s finding it difficult to do as you say, to find himself in the mirror. In his search, his eyes settle on your form. Your head is thrown back, skin glowing with the warm light of the bedside lamp, and your breasts bounce as you pummel the long and thick fake cock in and out of him at a clumsy but powerful rhythm. 

“You look so b-beautiful, sweetheart. Are you feeling good too? Hmm? I chose that strap specifically because it —t-that’s it, sweetheart, squeeze your -hngh!- beautiful breasts for me— b-because it has ridges inside to stimulate your clit.”

One hand groping your tit on show for him, the other grips his hip steady. “That’s what I’m feeling? Wow.”

Your pussy juices seep into the crotch of the strap-on. The empowering feeling is stimulating you just as much as the actual texture in the harness, and your hips move on their own, intent to make him cum before you. 

“Do you like this, Ken? Do you like being f-fucked by my cock?”

Your husband slumps forward when his arms buckle at the downright succubus-like tone of your voice, so saccharine sweet and mischievous. “Y-yes. You feel good.”

“Remember that one -ngh- time you made me count the veins of your cock? That was really -hah- cruel of you, Ken.”

He whimpers like a dog when you tug hard on the leash, pretty pink hole clamping down hard around your fake cock. “Yes, yes, I remember. Y-you sent me a naughty —f-fuck, slow down please— picture whilst I was at work. My coworker almost saw. I h-had to punish you, sweetheart.”

With a sadistic smile, you shove his head down into the pillows. Your lips trail down his spine, eliciting shivers and goosebumps. He knows what’s coming, knows how your mind works, how hungry you are for retribution and by god, is his cock leaking so much at the thought?

“Count.”

Running out of air, he grunts. Drool is pooling onto the pillow, and the heat, the pressure from within, your moans, your dominance, it’s all overwhelming him to overstimulation. It’s as if minor orgasms have been sparking from inside the deepest parts of him. He can hear the insistence in your voice, can feel the corner you’ve backed him into. You’ve left him no choice but to obey.

“One.”

SMACK!

“Fuck! Darling, please. Mercy.” A harsh slap was laid on his asscheek. Heat blooms over the sensitive skin. He bites into the pillow — you did not hold back.

You laugh. “Count, Kento. You don’t want to disappoint your wife, do you?”

“No. Never. Never. T-two—“

SMACK!

“Ah! Three. I feel three.”

SMACK!

Red handprints emerge on his cheeks, tainting his pristine skin and it looks downright sinful. He’s close, you can tell by the way his hole is pulsing much more erratically and the deeper groans, almost guttural growls, escaping his lips. You sure hope it’s a good one.

"S-sweetheart! Please, it's too -oh, g-goodness- too much."

Eyes rolling back into your head, your movements begin to grow frantic as he fucks back into you, pushing the ridges harder against your clit. "Be good and -ngh!- cum for me, Ken."

"Yes." He gasps. "Yes, I'll be -hah- good. I'll be good for you."

A strangled cry pierces the air, and you can’t tell if it’s from him or from you, but whatever the case, spasms wrack your body. It’s pleasure you’ve never felt before, pleasure you never thought you could feel, or could even exist. You could definitely get addicted to this, to the power of owning your husband in the most primal way.

Practically drowning in a puddle of his own drool, he can only mumble, ‘Oh, darling, you feel so good,’ again and again. 

You fall on top of his clammy body, hips still staggering inside and grinding against that soft spot. You’re both trembling, moaning and drooling. "Fuck, Ken!"

"Amazing...y-you're amazing...hah, I can't..."

Feverish, your husband mumbles incoherent, fragmented sentences. His brain is fried, balls throbbing almost painfully as he shoots out ropes and ropes of scalding cum. Seconds later, as you both try and catch your breath, he's still pulsing, firing blanks.

It’s messy and dirty, and Kento’s not feeling the most comfortable laying on his own pool of cum and sweat, but he does rather enjoy the feel of your hot, naked body sticking to his back. 

Eventually, you shimmy off him, overstimulated by the heat radiating from both of you. He winces when the dildo slides out with a POP! Cold air hits his gaping hole, wringing a deep full body shudder out of the man.

Half-conscious moments later, you’re laughing maniacally as he removes the harness from your hips with shaky hands. “Oh, damn! I can’t believe you actually let me peg you, Ken.”

He licks the drool from your chin, pushing it back in, along with his, into your mouth. Indulging in your taste, he mutters, “Mmm. Neither can I.”

“Did you like it? I hope I wasn’t being too rough. Since it’s not my dick, I can’t actually feel how it is inside, which is such a shame, don’t you think? Well, anyway, you didn’t use our safe word, so I’m hoping you were fine. Although, fine is different from actually enjoying it, right? It’s okay if you didn’t. Actually, no, it’s not okay 'cause then I’d feel bad—“

Chuckling, he cuts you off with a peck on your lips. “I enjoyed it, sweetheart. It was truly an experience of a lifetime, one I’m glad to have experienced with you. I can tell you were being very sure that I felt good the whole time. Thank you; you're always so good to me.”

You tug on his tie, pulling him to your lips so you can peck him back. “Yeah, of course. If I didn’t make a mess outta ya, I would have been very upset.”

“And make a mess out of me, you did, honey. My perfect, mischievous, darling wife — always up to trouble, always wanting to bring her willing husband to his knees.”

Long fingers pet your pussy, thoroughly coating his digits with your wetness before he pushes it in. Something slightly cool mixes inside you just as he curls his fingers against that gummy spot that has you clinging onto his arm and whimpering in his mouth.

“W-what is that?”

Plump lips descend down your neck, sucking the sweat off your skin. “My cum, sweetheart. It seems a waste to let it soak into our sheets when it could go where it should, no?”

You cum on his fingers, clit sensitive, and pushing out your mixed juices. 

His hair is mussed up, cheeks blushing, and his eyes glint with heart eyes as he gazes down at you. “Did you have a good time, darling? It seemed like you did.”

Humming, you reply, “Yeah, was a lot of fun, Ken.”

Kento mouths kisses down your body until he’s slotting in between your legs, tongue tracing your slit. He groans at your taste and dives right in like he’s been waiting for this the entire time, like it was always going to end like this, with him claiming his reward for being such a good husband.

“I’m glad, honey. Now, lean back and be good for me, alright?”

He stares right at you, gorgeous eyes glossy with desire and, what can only be, pure, unconditional love.

“It’s Kento’s turn.”