I want to read some smut. Some really smutty smut. Some well written, filthy dirty smut that leaves me breathless. I want to read some smut written for a girl like me.

I am very particular about the smut I like. I don't want to read romantic smut where he takes his rod of love and slides it into her most secret of places. I don't want to read overly descriptive smut, where his hard, hot, throbbing, pulsing, turgid, thick, swollen shaft pumps in and out, machine like, a racing piston, in her wet, hot, throbbing, pulsing, grasping, wanting, greedy pussy. I spend too much time giggling at the first and growing bored at the second. I don't want it interrupted by the banalities of life so leave out the description of putting on a condom. There is no reason for smut to be politically correct. I want smut that isn't afraid to be dirty. He has a cock, she has a cunt and he uses his cock to smear her own or someone else's cunt juices over her face. I don't want it prettied up. It should sound as dirty as it is. And of course, I want it so he is dominant and she is submissive. He should make her do things that horrify her at that mere thought. He should have her so that when he is fucking her, she wants these things so badly she begs. I want to read smut like that.

Oh. That reminds me about last night.

I was standing in the kitchen just finishing off preparing dinner when Mac slid up behind me and put His hands up my shirt and kissed my neck. I told Him to bugger off, dinner was almost ready but He didn't let go of my breasts. Instead He whispered in my ear that He had had four fingers inside my cunt earlier. That when He had come home I had begged for Him to make me come. I told Him to hush up! He told me it was true! I said it might be true but we don't have to talk about it now! I was bright red with embarrassment. He laughed at how much I blushed.

He pulled one hand from under my shirt and held it up in front of my face. He crowded His fingers together and told me that it was those four, like this. I smacked His hand with a wooden spoon that I using. He turned off the stove. I tried to turn it back on. It didn't work.

Mac dragged me over to the table and bent me over it. He made me put my hands beside my face, palms down and told me not to move them. He pulled my panties down to my knees and even while I was cursing Him and calling Him a selfish prick, I was standing on my tip-toes in anticipation of His cock entering me. It all felt a little surreal, looking as I was at the table set for dinner. I was bent over next to my knife, my water glass beside my head.

Then Mac pushed His cock into my cunt and I grunted ever so lady-like. He shuddered and as He pulled His cock out of me He told me to grunt again. When He pushed back into me I did. This happened another five or six times before He was pushing into me so hard that I had to push back against Him or He would thrust me through the table. He came like a fucking train. (His words, not mine!)

When He was pulling out of me I squeezed my muscles on Him specifically to make Him groan. He slapped my ass when I giggled at Him. Then He pulled me from the table and kissed my lips. "My gorgeous girl." He whispered. "I love you." And I kissed Him back.

We ate dinner together and we played with Sarah Jane, and when she grew tired we put her into bed. Mac kissed her goodbye. It wasn't long after that He had to go, but really that wasn't the point of telling this. The point was, I can write it, but Mac mentioning what we did makes me squirm.

And I want to read some smut that makes me feel like that.

Sighs.

None of it ever does.