Kinky London Escorts

Yes! This is rough sex!’ I scream internally, his big hands holding my hips firmly in place as he drives himself into me, again and again. Harder and harder. He makes sure he’s going in as deep as I can take, maybe a touch deeper. Grabbing my hair now, and pushing my face into the pillow, he presses himself against me, making a noise somewhere in between grunting and panting in my ear. I feel close, so very close. This is it. This is what I’ve been trying to write about, tapping my fingers onto the tops of the computer keys for hours earlier in the day but writing nothing, unsuccessfully attempting to put into words what this actually is, what it involves. Before I can think on it anymore (or have the orgasm I’m yearning for), he pulls out and forcefully flips me over, callously slapping my legs apart. He starts to lick his fingers, all the while looking at where he’s about to embed them.

This. Is. Exactly. What. I. Want.

Rough sex. The very best sex, if you ask me. The kind that has you begging for him to stop, but needing for him to go on…and on, and on. Is rough sex kinky? I don’t know – I guess so, in the sense that it can’t be easily described as ‘vanilla’, but how do you put into words a kink that doesn’t fit neatly in a box? Can something be described as kinky if there’s no fetish equipment involved? No role-play? No uniforms? Only the two of you, perhaps some sex toys, maybe a bed, or a sofa, or a kitchen top. Or the floor. Mmmmm, the floor.

Where was I? So easily distracted. I’ve been around the block as far as kink goes, trying everything I can on a journey of pure hedonistic discovery, trying to figure out what I like, what I need. From ultra fetishistic, rubber-clad play as a Domina, to donning regulation knickers and white socks as the naughty school girl who is about to be bent over the desk and spanked. But, for me, it always comes back to rough sex. For all of that other stuff to disappear. To be taken, to be swept up in a sweaty, brutal, frenzied communion. To be fucked. In these moments, I forget what it is to be human, giving in to my deepest animalistic urges. The submissive side of me needs to yield to his dominance, and to take whatever it is he has to give me.

So, how do you have good rough sex? When moans of pleasure can so easily sound like groans of pain (and not the good kind), where do you draw the line between ‘I can’t take it – please go on’ and ‘this isn’t fun anymore’? As with any kinky sex, discussion about boundaries, likes and dislikes, as well as a safeword that might be used if it gets too much is all essential foreplay. Surrendering yourself to rough sex is so much better, so much more satisfying, if trust and a mutual respect is established long before play begins, and healthy communication is maintained during the act itself. This applies whether you are playing with a professional, or not.

As a provider, rough sex requests are some of my absolute favourites, but I think sometimes it can be hard for a prospective client to make that initial step of asking, particularly if we haven’t met before. It is vital, however, that I know before we meet that this is something you’re interested in; springing it on me when we’re already playing is not only non-consensual, but it also makes it impossible for me to get into the right head space and therefore, at best, enjoying myself becomes pretty much impossible and, at worst, I might find what you are doing traumatic. Sitting down and chatting beforehand is all part of the fun; this way you can learn about how to be rough with me without going too far, or doing things that are beyond my limits. I’m sure you’ll agree that the anticipation of rough sex is nerve tinglingly exciting, and talking about what we are going to do only adds to this.

So – take that step, figure out what it is that you want, and make contact. Don’t be shy; I’m not going to think that you’re weird, or that you’re a bad person just because you want to be rough with me. In fact, it’s likely I’ll look forward to our meeting more than you can know!

And then…then we can melt into each other, the rest of the world becoming background noise as we play this brutish game, as we dance this untamed dance. We can lose ourselves in each other, pushing, pulling, thrusting, capitulating. I can surrender myself as you take what you want. However you want.