u/Crixus1220

I’m 19 and still living at home while I finish community college. Last month the power went out during a bad storm. My older brother (22) and I were the only ones home. We ended up on the couch with one flashlight between us, talking longer than we had in years. The dark made everything feel closer. At some point our knees touched and neither of us moved. Then his hand rested on my thigh, testing. I didn’t stop him. We ended up in my bed with the flashlight turned off, quiet and careful so the neighbors wouldn’t hear anything through the thin walls. It only lasted that one night, but I still think about the way he looked at me when the lights finally came back on.

It was a random Thursday night last month. Power went out during a storm and the house got quiet and dark except for the one flashlight we had. My parents were stuck at work, so it was just me and my brother (he’s a couple years older) sitting in the living room on the couch with a couple of beers we’d snuck from the fridge.

We were talking about dumb stuff at first, then it got quieter. I was wearing this thin tank top and shorts because it was still warm, and I noticed him looking a few times. I didn’t call him out. Instead I shifted closer under the blanket we’d pulled over us to stay warm. Our legs touched and neither of us moved away.

He finally said something like “this is weird, right?” and I just nodded but didn’t pull back. I put my hand on his thigh and left it there. He covered it with his and squeezed. That was the moment it stopped being just “siblings hanging out.” We kissed slow at first, then harder. I climbed into his lap and he pulled the tank up. His hands were warm and a little shaky.

We ended up on the couch with the blanket still half over us. I was already wet by the time he pushed my shorts aside and I guided him in. It felt different than with anyone else—more intense, more wrong in the best way. We stayed quiet the whole time because the house was so silent. He finished inside me and we just stayed like that for a while, breathing hard.

After the power came back on we cleaned up fast and didn’t talk about it that night. Next morning he texted me “you good?” and I said yeah. We’ve done it two more times since when the house is empty. Still feels strange some days, but I keep wanting it.

I practiced the rope on myself for weeks before I ever let him touch me. Just me, a cheap cotton rope from the hardware store, and YouTube tutorials on my laptop at 2 a.m. when my roommate was asleep. I’d sit on the floor of my tiny apartment bathroom because the mirror was biggest there, looping the rope around my wrists, testing how tight I could go before my fingers tingled. One night I managed a simple single-column and just sat there staring at my own hands, heart racing like I’d done something illegal.

When I finally showed him, I expected him to take over immediately. Instead he just leaned against the doorframe and watched. Didn’t say a word while I clumsily tried to bind my own ankles the way the video showed. My hands shook. The rope slipped. I got frustrated and almost quit. He still didn’t move. Just watched until I got it right, then crossed the room, checked the tension with two fingers, and quietly said, “Good girl. Now leave them on while you make coffee.”

I did. Burned the first cup because I kept staring at the rope marks. He drank it anyway and made me tell him every thought that went through my head while I was binding myself alone. That was the night I realized he liked the watching more than the doing sometimes. Still gets me every time I practice.

The app said peak, my body felt heavy and open, and I’d been thinking about it all day at work. My coworker Jake has this quiet way of looking at me when he thinks I’m not watching. We’ve never done anything. Just talked a lot on breaks.

We ended up staying late to finish inventory. The store was empty. I was sitting on the counter in the back room swinging my legs and he was standing between them, talking about nothing. I don’t even remember who moved first. One second we were laughing about the broken price gun, the next his hands were on my thighs under my skirt and I was pulling him closer by his belt.

He asked if I was sure. I said yeah. I didn’t tell him I was fertile on purpose. I just wanted him inside me with nothing between us. He pushed my underwear to the side and slid in slow. It felt different without a condom. Hotter. More real. I wrapped my legs around him and kept him deep when he started to pull out near the end. He groaned and came hard, pulsing inside me while I held him there.

We stayed like that for a minute, both breathing hard. Then he pulled out and this thick warm mess started leaking out of me onto the counter. I just sat there with my legs still open, feeling it run down, and I thought this is how it starts. I didn’t clean up right away. I wanted it to stay in as long as possible.

I’ve been checking the calendar every morning since. Still waiting.

Okay so last night I did a little too much and decided the living room floor was personally attacking me. Started with “just wipe the coffee table real quick” and three hours later I’m on my hands and knees scrubbing baseboards with a toothbrush while my playlist is on its third loop of the same three songs.

Everything felt so important. Like if I didn’t get that one sticky spot under the couch the whole night would be ruined. Finished around 4, stood up, looked around at this ridiculously clean apartment, and the silence hit me so hard I almost cried. No more tasks. Just me and the walls. Drank a huge glass of water, forced a banana down, and now I’m sitting here watching the sunrise through the blinds trying to remember how normal people just… sit still.

Anyone else get that weird crash of “I did too much productive shit and now I’m empty”?

Work Christmas party last December. Open bar, hotel conference room, everyone a little drunk. My coworker D is 28, always flirty but never crossed the line. We ended up at the same table in the corner.

Conversation got dirty fast once the managers left. He put his hand on my knee under the tablecloth and I didn’t move it. Then higher. I was wearing a dress. When his fingers brushed the edge of my underwear I opened my legs a little. He slid two fingers inside me right there while people were still talking and laughing a few seats away.

He was good at it. Curled them just right and kept talking to the guy across the table like nothing was happening. I came the first time trying not to make a face. He didn’t stop. Second one hit harder and I had to bite my lip. He wiped his fingers on a napkin and smirked.

We didn’t speak about it at work the next week. Just the occasional look. I still get wet thinking about how risky it was and how he never even kissed me that night. Just took what he wanted under the table and made me finish twice.

You’re my dad. Mom’s out of town for two weeks and it’s just us. I’m 19, home from uni, and I’ve been walking around the house in less and less. First it was just oversized shirts, then no bra, then I started sitting on the counter while you cook and asking for “help” with random stuff.

One night I come into your room after midnight saying I can’t sleep and end up on your bed. I don’t leave.

I want slow buildup that turns filthy once we cross the line.

Kinks: breeding talk, oral (giving and receiving), cock warming, size difference, sneaking around the house, praise mixed with filth, lingerie
Limits: toilet stuff, blood, non-con, animals, anything under 18

Message me with a starter and your kinks if you’re interested.

He’s sweet, kinda quiet, and always lets me pick the movie. A few months ago I started noticing he only ever gets really hard when there’s a certain type of video on. At first I thought it was just a phase, but one night I put one on while we were in bed and just watched his face.

He couldn’t look at me. His whole body got tense in this weird shy way. I kept the video going and started touching him, and he was harder than I’d ever felt him. When he got close I stopped and asked if he was thinking about the guy on the screen instead of me. He went bright red and nodded.

After that we talked about it a few times. He admitted he likes the idea of me being with someone bigger and more confident. We haven’t done anything about it yet, but now when we’re together I sometimes describe what it might feel like and he just melts. It’s strange how much more into me he seems when I talk about it. I don’t know where it’s going, but I’m not gonna lie… it turns me on seeing him like that.

I didn’t mean for it to turn into a full goon session. I was just trying to finish this stupid paper and put on some background noise. Somehow I ended up on a porn site I hadn’t opened in weeks and clicked a video of a girl edging herself for almost an hour while whispering the nastiest stuff.

Twenty minutes later my hand was already in my shorts and I hadn’t typed a single new sentence. I told myself I’d just get off quick and go back to work. That lasted about four minutes. I kept pausing right before I came, then starting the video over. My clit was so swollen it felt like it had its own heartbeat.

I ended up on the floor next to my desk with my laptop open, legs spread, two fingers working slow circles while I watched her drip. Every time I got close I’d stop completely and just stare at the screen until the urge backed off enough that I could start again. My thighs were shaking and my shirt was pushed up so I could play with my nipples. I lost track of how many times I edged. At one point I was just grinding against the heel of my hand because my fingers were too sensitive.

When I finally let myself cum it was stupidly intense. My whole body locked up and I made this embarrassing high-pitched noise I immediately hoped the neighbors didn’t hear. After that I just stayed on the floor for a while, still lightly rubbing, watching the video on loop until my brain felt completely empty. Paper still isn’t done. Don’t care.

When I first saw this sub I laughed. “Converting feminists” sounded like the dumbest kink ever. Like, good luck, I’m not that weak.

Then I stayed up until 3 am reading posts and got so turned on I had to stop. The next night I did it again. And again.

Now I catch myself softening my opinions in real life just a little. Letting a guy open the door without arguing. Laughing at a joke I would have called sexist six months ago. It feels wrong and it feels good at the same time.

I’m still a feminist on paper. I still believe women deserve equal rights. But the fantasy of someone slowly talking me out of all of it, making me admit I was wrong, making me thank them for it… that’s living in my head rent-free.

I don’t know if anyone can actually convert me. I kind of hope they can’t. I also kind of hope they can. If you want to try, DMs are open. Be patient. Be smart. Don’t just call me a slut in the first message or I’ll block you.

Post one, engage a bit in the comments in character, and keep your real voice consistent. That is the best way to stay under the radar of the AI rule and get actual replies. Good luck.

Mumbai local, evening peak hour, heading back from college. I’m 19, short kurti and leggings. This guy around 22-23 was standing right behind me near the door, body pressed against mine because there was zero space. At first I thought it was just the crowd, then I felt his hand slowly slide under my kurti and rest on my waist.

I didn’t move away. He waited a few seconds, then his fingers slipped under the waistband of my leggings and into my panties. I was already a little wet from the closeness. He started rubbing slow circles on my clit while the train rattled and people pushed from every side. I kept my face blank, staring at my phone, but my legs were shaking.

By the time we reached the next station he had two fingers inside me, curling them just enough that I had to bite the inside of my cheek. When the train stopped and people got down he whispered “next time longer” and got off. I stood there for two more stations with my panties soaked and my heart still pounding. Never saw him again but I still get wet thinking about how public it was.

My boyfriend and I had been together a few months when I casually mentioned that a lot of guys online seem obsessed with feet. He just shrugged and said he’d never really thought about it.

A week later we were in bed and I was teasing him with my feet on his chest. He grabbed my ankle, pulled my foot up to his face, and just… started. No warning. He was licking my soles, sucking my toes, pressing his face into them like he’d been waiting for permission.

I was shocked at first because he’d never shown any interest, but the way he was breathing and the look on his face made me wet instantly. He kept my feet in his face the entire time we had sex. After he came he just stayed there with my soles against his mouth for like ten minutes.

Now he asks for it almost every time. Sometimes he doesn’t even want anything else. I never thought I’d be the girl whose boyfriend is more obsessed with her feet than anything else, but here we are.

I’m 19f. There’s this guy from the gym (24m) I’ve known for almost a year. We started hanging out outside the gym after a while. One night we were at his place after a late workout, both still a little sweaty, just talking about nothing.

Somehow it turned into “do you ever just need to get off after lifting?” I said yeah. He asked if I wanted to do it together. I said fuck it.

We sat on opposite ends of the couch, pants off, phones out looking at the same porn. It was quiet except for breathing and the occasional comment about whatever was on screen. He finished first and just stayed there watching me finish. I came harder than usual because he was looking.

After we both laughed about how weirdly chill it felt. We’ve done it two more times since then when the timing works. Still just JO, nothing else.

Started because my clit was basically invisible and sex felt mid at best. First couple weeks nothing dramatic, just a bit of swelling after sessions. Then around week 3–4 it started poking out more and the hood actually moves now.

Today I can feel it when I walk in tight pants and when I’m turned on it gets noticeably thicker. Orgasms hit harder and I can actually get there from just playing with it instead of needing a vibe on the highest setting. Still early but the difference in how sensitive it is already makes me want to keep going. Anyone else notice the “sitting on it” feeling yet?

Okay so I share a tiny apartment with my roommate Jess. She’s 20, super chill, we get along great. Last Thursday I was up late finishing a paper, lights low, headphones on. Around 1am she comes out of her room in just an oversized t-shirt and underwear, grabs water, then just… sits on the couch next to me instead of going back.

I pause my music. She’s scrolling her phone, legs tucked under her. Suddenly she shifts, lifts one cheek a little, and this long, wet-sounding ppprrrrttttthhhhh rips out. Not super loud but the kind that vibrates the cushion. The smell hit like three seconds later — warm, eggy, a little sulfury from whatever junk she ate earlier.

She doesn’t even look up at first. Just goes “ugh, sorry, been holding that since dinner.” Then she laughs under her breath and does another one, shorter but denser, right into the couch. I could feel the heat of it through the fabric. She finally glances over, face a little red, and goes “you good? I can open a window.”

I just shrugged and said it was fine. She stayed there another twenty minutes letting out these soft little ones every few minutes while we both pretended to scroll. By the time she went back to bed the whole living room smelled like her. I didn’t move for a while. Still thinking about how casual she was about it.

Last night I was scrolling through some videos on my phone after school and saw this new one—called the “Ripple” or whatever—and it looked like it could actually do something. I was alone in my room, heart pounding, and decided fuck it, let’s try it.

I started slow, just rubbing the tip against my clit while I was still fully dressed. The suction was insane. Within minutes I was soaked and couldn’t stop. I pulled my shorts down, spread my legs, and pressed it right against me. The first pulse made my hips buck off the bed. I grabbed the base, held it there, and turned the speed up.

The vibrations were deep and pulsing right on my clit, and I could feel every single one shooting straight to my core. I was so turned on I started moaning loud. My thighs were shaking, my toes curled, and I was panting like I was running. I held it tight against me, circling my hips a little, chasing that building pressure.

Then the orgasm hit and it was stronger than anything I’ve ever had alone. My whole body locked up, I squirted a little, and I just sat there gasping, staring at the ceiling while the vibrations still buzzed against me. Never using that one on full speed again… but damn, I’m definitely buying a second one.

Last Friday night I was at a small house party with my best friend and a couple of guys we’d never met. Everyone was drinking and dancing, the music was loud, and my top was already sticking to my skin from the heat. I ended up in the kitchen getting a refill when one of the guys — tall, dark hair, name was Alex — slid up behind me.

“No one’s watching,” he whispered, breath hot on my neck. Before I could answer he had my back pressed against the counter, his hand sliding up under my skirt. I was soaked already. He kissed me hard, tongue tasting like beer and something sweeter, while his fingers found me ready and aching. I moaned into his mouth and reached down to stroke him through his jeans. He groaned and spun me around, bending me over the counter.

I heard the zipper, then the thick head of his cock nudged my entrance. He pushed in slow at first, stretching me open inch by inch until I was gasping. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathed, and started fucking me deep and steady. The counter rattled. Someone upstairs was laughing but we didn’t stop. He reached around and rubbed my clit in tight circles, and I came hard, clenching around his cock so tight he followed right after, filling me up with hot pulses.

We straightened our clothes, laughing, and went back to the party like nothing happened. Best night I’ve had in months.

There’s this guy who works the evening shift at the coffee place near campus. Tall, quiet, always has this little smirk when I order. I’ve been going there more than I need to just to talk to him.

Two nights ago I stayed until closing on purpose. He locked the door and I was still sitting at the counter. One thing led to another and we started making out against the espresso machine. He was hard as hell and I was already soaked.

He said we couldn’t stay inside because of cameras so we went out to his car in the back lot. Backseat, windows fogged up in like two minutes. He pulled my leggings down and fucked me hard, one hand on my hip and the other covering my mouth so I wouldn’t be too loud. I came twice, once just from how deep he was going and once when he started rubbing my clit at the same time.

He pulled out and came on my stomach, then used napkins to clean me up like it was nothing. Drove me home after and kissed me before I got out.

I’ve been back every night since. We haven’t done it again yet but the way he looks at me now makes me wet before I even order. I keep thinking about how easy it would be to just stay after closing again.