Spreading my legs for him

[BrightShinyGirl]

Welcome to another edition of Shiny Overthinks Her Libido!

This morning I was thinking about the particular moment during sex when I first open my legs, and how there's a special thrill that accompanies it. Partially I think it's because I was taught that nice girls kept their thighs discreetly closed so on some deep level opening my legs to a man feels like a transgression. I'm breaking the rules and being bad.

But mostly I think it's because spreading my legs is the precise moment when romance turns into fucking. Up until that point, even if I'm mostly or entirely naked, there's a certain grace and decorum to the proceedings. He caresses me, I caress him, we kiss and stare into each other's eyes wistfully. There may be passion, but it's contained and controlled. We're two people in love, and it's beautiful and sweet. We're not, you know ... filthy fucking animals.

But then, something happens to triggers the switch. Maybe its the particular way he's kissing my throat, or the feel of his hard cock in my hand, but whatever it is, the gauzy romantic veil drops away and we're just two eager bodies, desperate for satisfaction. And that's when I spread my legs. I mean, it's not always me that spreads them. Sometimes he opens them with his hands instead of waiting for me to do it myself. But the point is they're open, and I want them to be open, and my most private place is completely exposed, and there's no more illusions about what's going to happen next.

It's impossible for a woman to look elegant or cultured or graceful when she's got her thighs open. It's inherently an ungainly, awkward position, what with your feet dangling up in the air, and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory. Classical sculptors never depicted women like that. Even naked, women's bodies were always sculpted as a collection of sinuous architectural curves. Not bent bony knees, tits flat on your chest, shiny cunt-lips open.

But at the moment I spread my legs, I don't care anymore about looking elegant or cultured or graceful. All I care about is fucking, about having a thick hard cock or at least two fingers or a tongue up inside me. The thrill of spreading my legs is the thrill of surrender, not to him (although sometimes to him), but surrender to my animal instincts. Surrender to the naked, filthy Homo Erectus version of Shiny who is still lurking somewhere deep inside my monkey brain. That version of Shiny is a filthy fucking animal. She doesn't care about her professional responsibilities, or the mortgage payment, or that cute pair of shoes she saw on the Nordstrom website. All she cares about is spreading her thighs as wide as she can so she can be mounted and fucked, because she's running entirely on female hormones and monkey instinct.

It's scary letting animal Shiny out. I'm usually very much in control of myself, but Homo Erectus Shiny has no self-control at all. Spreading my thighs means handing over the steering wheel to monkey girl. She's in the driver's seat and all normal rational Shiny (the one typing this) can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. It's scary and and amazing and filthy and sublime, all at the same time.

And that's why I love it.

<Shiny holds her skirt and does a little curtsy.>

 

[smtst5]

Welcome to another edition of Shiny Overthinks Her Libido!

This morning I was thinking about the particular moment during sex when I first open my legs, and how there's a special thrill that accompanies it. Partially I think it's because I was taught that nice girls kept their thighs discreetly closed so on some deep level opening my legs to a man feels like a transgression. I'm breaking the rules and being bad.

But mostly I think it's because spreading my legs is the precise moment when romance turns into fucking. Up until that point, even if I'm mostly or entirely naked, there's a certain grace and decorum to the proceedings. He caresses me, I caress him, we kiss and stare into each other's eyes wistfully. There may be passion, but it's contained and controlled. We're two people in love, and it's beautiful and sweet. We're not, you know ... filthy fucking animals.

But then, something happens to triggers the switch. Maybe its the particular way he's kissing my throat, or the feel of his hard cock in my hand, but whatever it is, the gauzy romantic veil drops away and we're just two eager bodies, desperate for satisfaction. And that's when I spread my legs. I mean, it's not always me that spreads them. Sometimes he opens them with his hands instead of waiting for me to do it myself. But the point is they're open, and I want them to be open, and my most private place is completely exposed, and there's no more illusions about what's going to happen next.

It's impossible for a woman to look elegant or cultured or graceful when she's got her thighs open. It's inherently an ungainly, awkward position, what with your feet dangling up in the air, and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory. Classical sculptors never depicted women like that. Even naked, women's bodies were always sculpted as a collection of sinuous architectural curves. Not bent bony knees, tits flat on your chest, shiny cunt-lips open.

But at the moment I spread my legs, I don't care anymore about looking elegant or cultured or graceful. All I care about is fucking, about having a thick hard cock or at least two fingers or a tongue up inside me. The thrill of spreading my legs is the thrill of surrender, not to him (although sometimes to him), but surrender to my animal instincts. Surrender to the naked, filthy Homo Erectus version of Shiny who is still lurking somewhere deep inside my monkey brain. That version of Shiny is a filthy fucking animal. She doesn't care about her professional responsibilities, or the mortgage payment, or that cute pair of shoes she saw on the Nordstrom website. All she cares about is spreading her thighs as wide as she can so she can be mounted and fucked, because she's running entirely on female hormones and monkey instinct.

It's scary letting animal Shiny out. I'm usually very much in control of myself, but Homo Erectus Shiny has no self-control at all. Spreading my thighs means handing over the steering wheel to monkey girl. She's in the driver's seat and all normal rational Shiny (the one typing this) can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. It's scary and and amazing and filthy and sublime, all at the same time.

And that's why I love it.

<Shiny holds her skirt and does a little curtsy.>

I go into what I’ll call caveman mode when a female spreads her legs in front of me. The animalistic urges take over and I just want to give into those urges.

 

[stoneroller1955]

wow

Well written Shiny! The crowd goes nuts!!!!!!

 

[haventdonethat]

Excellent writing!

And the curtsy is a bonus

 

[mellowgrandpa]

Welcome to another edition of Shiny Overthinks Her Libido!

This morning I was thinking about the particular moment during sex when I first open my legs, and how there's a special thrill that accompanies it. Partially I think it's because I was taught that nice girls kept their thighs discreetly closed so on some deep level opening my legs to a man feels like a transgression. I'm breaking the rules and being bad.

But mostly I think it's because spreading my legs is the precise moment when romance turns into fucking. Up until that point, even if I'm mostly or entirely naked, there's a certain grace and decorum to the proceedings. He caresses me, I caress him, we kiss and stare into each other's eyes wistfully. There may be passion, but it's contained and controlled. We're two people in love, and it's beautiful and sweet. We're not, you know ... filthy fucking animals.

But then, something happens to triggers the switch. Maybe its the particular way he's kissing my throat, or the feel of his hard cock in my hand, but whatever it is, the gauzy romantic veil drops away and we're just two eager bodies, desperate for satisfaction. And that's when I spread my legs. I mean, it's not always me that spreads them. Sometimes he opens them with his hands instead of waiting for me to do it myself. But the point is they're open, and I want them to be open, and my most private place is completely exposed, and there's no more illusions about what's going to happen next.

It's impossible for a woman to look elegant or cultured or graceful when she's got her thighs open. It's inherently an ungainly, awkward position, what with your feet dangling up in the air, and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory. Classical sculptors never depicted women like that. Even naked, women's bodies were always sculpted as a collection of sinuous architectural curves. Not bent bony knees, tits flat on your chest, shiny cunt-lips open.

But at the moment I spread my legs, I don't care anymore about looking elegant or cultured or graceful. All I care about is fucking, about having a thick hard cock or at least two fingers or a tongue up inside me. The thrill of spreading my legs is the thrill of surrender, not to him (although sometimes to him), but surrender to my animal instincts. Surrender to the naked, filthy Homo Erectus version of Shiny who is still lurking somewhere deep inside my monkey brain. That version of Shiny is a filthy fucking animal. She doesn't care about her professional responsibilities, or the mortgage payment, or that cute pair of shoes she saw on the Nordstrom website. All she cares about is spreading her thighs as wide as she can so she can be mounted and fucked, because she's running entirely on female hormones and monkey instinct.

It's scary letting animal Shiny out. I'm usually very much in control of myself, but Homo Erectus Shiny has no self-control at all. Spreading my thighs means handing over the steering wheel to monkey girl. She's in the driver's seat and all normal rational Shiny (the one typing this) can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. It's scary and and amazing and filthy and sublime, all at the same time.

And that's why I love it.

<Shiny holds her skirt and does a little curtsy.>

How very hard you just made me, reading this. And what you say is oh so true. That surrender, both you and him, to purely animal instincts. Your legs are wide open, and he drives in, just as nature intended. Sex, in its purest form, is so incredibly hot.

 

[HeavyBalls]

Welcome to another edition of Shiny Overthinks Her Libido!

This morning I was thinking about the particular moment during sex when I first open my legs, and how there's a special thrill that accompanies it. Partially I think it's because I was taught that nice girls kept their thighs discreetly closed so on some deep level opening my legs to a man feels like a transgression. I'm breaking the rules and being bad.

But mostly I think it's because spreading my legs is the precise moment when romance turns into fucking. Up until that point, even if I'm mostly or entirely naked, there's a certain grace and decorum to the proceedings. He caresses me, I caress him, we kiss and stare into each other's eyes wistfully. There may be passion, but it's contained and controlled. We're two people in love, and it's beautiful and sweet. We're not, you know ... filthy fucking animals.

But then, something happens to triggers the switch. Maybe its the particular way he's kissing my throat, or the feel of his hard cock in my hand, but whatever it is, the gauzy romantic veil drops away and we're just two eager bodies, desperate for satisfaction. And that's when I spread my legs. I mean, it's not always me that spreads them. Sometimes he opens them with his hands instead of waiting for me to do it myself. But the point is they're open, and I want them to be open, and my most private place is completely exposed, and there's no more illusions about what's going to happen next.

It's impossible for a woman to look elegant or cultured or graceful when she's got her thighs open. It's inherently an ungainly, awkward position, what with your feet dangling up in the air, and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory. Classical sculptors never depicted women like that. Even naked, women's bodies were always sculpted as a collection of sinuous architectural curves. Not bent bony knees, tits flat on your chest, shiny cunt-lips open.

But at the moment I spread my legs, I don't care anymore about looking elegant or cultured or graceful. All I care about is fucking, about having a thick hard cock or at least two fingers or a tongue up inside me. The thrill of spreading my legs is the thrill of surrender, not to him (although sometimes to him), but surrender to my animal instincts. Surrender to the naked, filthy Homo Erectus version of Shiny who is still lurking somewhere deep inside my monkey brain. That version of Shiny is a filthy fucking animal. She doesn't care about her professional responsibilities, or the mortgage payment, or that cute pair of shoes she saw on the Nordstrom website. All she cares about is spreading her thighs as wide as she can so she can be mounted and fucked, because she's running entirely on female hormones and monkey instinct.

It's scary letting animal Shiny out. I'm usually very much in control of myself, but Homo Erectus Shiny has no self-control at all. Spreading my thighs means handing over the steering wheel to monkey girl. She's in the driver's seat and all normal rational Shiny (the one typing this) can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. It's scary and and amazing and filthy and sublime, all at the same time.

And that's why I love it.

<Shiny holds her skirt and does a little curtsy.>

Well played

 

[peekingone]

Great read. The visual is awesome. Well done.

 

[waratah]

Welcome to another edition of Shiny Overthinks Her Libido!

This morning I was thinking about the particular moment during sex when I first open my legs, and how there's a special thrill that accompanies it. Partially I think it's because I was taught that nice girls kept their thighs discreetly closed so on some deep level opening my legs to a man feels like a transgression. I'm breaking the rules and being bad.

But mostly I think it's because spreading my legs is the precise moment when romance turns into fucking. Up until that point, even if I'm mostly or entirely naked, there's a certain grace and decorum to the proceedings. He caresses me, I caress him, we kiss and stare into each other's eyes wistfully. There may be passion, but it's contained and controlled. We're two people in love, and it's beautiful and sweet. We're not, you know ... filthy fucking animals.

But then, something happens to triggers the switch. Maybe its the particular way he's kissing my throat, or the feel of his hard cock in my hand, but whatever it is, the gauzy romantic veil drops away and we're just two eager bodies, desperate for satisfaction. And that's when I spread my legs. I mean, it's not always me that spreads them. Sometimes he opens them with his hands instead of waiting for me to do it myself. But the point is they're open, and I want them to be open, and my most private place is completely exposed, and there's no more illusions about what's going to happen next.

It's impossible for a woman to look elegant or cultured or graceful when she's got her thighs open. It's inherently an ungainly, awkward position, what with your feet dangling up in the air, and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory. Classical sculptors never depicted women like that. Even naked, women's bodies were always sculpted as a collection of sinuous architectural curves. Not bent bony knees, tits flat on your chest, shiny cunt-lips open.

But at the moment I spread my legs, I don't care anymore about looking elegant or cultured or graceful. All I care about is fucking, about having a thick hard cock or at least two fingers or a tongue up inside me. The thrill of spreading my legs is the thrill of surrender, not to him (although sometimes to him), but surrender to my animal instincts. Surrender to the naked, filthy Homo Erectus version of Shiny who is still lurking somewhere deep inside my monkey brain. That version of Shiny is a filthy fucking animal. She doesn't care about her professional responsibilities, or the mortgage payment, or that cute pair of shoes she saw on the Nordstrom website. All she cares about is spreading her thighs as wide as she can so she can be mounted and fucked, because she's running entirely on female hormones and monkey instinct.

It's scary letting animal Shiny out. I'm usually very much in control of myself, but Homo Erectus Shiny has no self-control at all. Spreading my thighs means handing over the steering wheel to monkey girl. She's in the driver's seat and all normal rational Shiny (the one typing this) can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. It's scary and and amazing and filthy and sublime, all at the same time.

And that's why I love it.

<Shiny holds her skirt and does a little curtsy.>

Exquisitely stated. The is something very hot about a girl switching off her decorum, and switching on spread leg, or even spread lip wantonly.

 

[Asian_Flower]

Oh my God yes! So perfectly put! The moment of surrender to lust and desire, to the big man beast who's about to take you however he wishes!

Love your writing Shiny.

 

[asus013]

I think men want to feel that feeling too. I think that's why pegging is getting more popular. Men want to feel that same feeling. Giving yourself to someone and trusting them to make you feel good at your most vulnerable.

 

[HampshireBoy]

Beautifully written, and i think both sexes feel this in their own way. Up until the lady spreads her legs in readiness it can be all gentle loving, at that moment we're moving on to fucking whether gentle love making or rampant hard there is something primative about it.

 

[dashie33]

and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory.

My girlfriend charmingly refers to her vagina - well, her labia, anyway - as meaty lettuce. I think messy baroque glory has a certain poetic touch that meaty lettuce lacks, though.

 

[Smoothshavendad]

Welcome to another edition of Shiny Overthinks Her Libido!

This morning I was thinking about the particular moment during sex when I first open my legs, and how there's a special thrill that accompanies it. Partially I think it's because I was taught that nice girls kept their thighs discreetly closed so on some deep level opening my legs to a man feels like a transgression. I'm breaking the rules and being bad.

But mostly I think it's because spreading my legs is the precise moment when romance turns into fucking. Up until that point, even if I'm mostly or entirely naked, there's a certain grace and decorum to the proceedings. He caresses me, I caress him, we kiss and stare into each other's eyes wistfully. There may be passion, but it's contained and controlled. We're two people in love, and it's beautiful and sweet. We're not, you know ... filthy fucking animals.

But then, something happens to triggers the switch. Maybe its the particular way he's kissing my throat, or the feel of his hard cock in my hand, but whatever it is, the gauzy romantic veil drops away and we're just two eager bodies, desperate for satisfaction. And that's when I spread my legs. I mean, it's not always me that spreads them. Sometimes he opens them with his hands instead of waiting for me to do it myself. But the point is they're open, and I want them to be open, and my most private place is completely exposed, and there's no more illusions about what's going to happen next.

It's impossible for a woman to look elegant or cultured or graceful when she's got her thighs open. It's inherently an ungainly, awkward position, what with your feet dangling up in the air, and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory. Classical sculptors never depicted women like that. Even naked, women's bodies were always sculpted as a collection of sinuous architectural curves. Not bent bony knees, tits flat on your chest, shiny cunt-lips open.

But at the moment I spread my legs, I don't care anymore about looking elegant or cultured or graceful. All I care about is fucking, about having a thick hard cock or at least two fingers or a tongue up inside me. The thrill of spreading my legs is the thrill of surrender, not to him (although sometimes to him), but surrender to my animal instincts. Surrender to the naked, filthy Homo Erectus version of Shiny who is still lurking somewhere deep inside my monkey brain. That version of Shiny is a filthy fucking animal. She doesn't care about her professional responsibilities, or the mortgage payment, or that cute pair of shoes she saw on the Nordstrom website. All she cares about is spreading her thighs as wide as she can so she can be mounted and fucked, because she's running entirely on female hormones and monkey instinct.

It's scary letting animal Shiny out. I'm usually very much in control of myself, but Homo Erectus Shiny has no self-control at all. Spreading my thighs means handing over the steering wheel to monkey girl. She's in the driver's seat and all normal rational Shiny (the one typing this) can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. It's scary and and amazing and filthy and sublime, all at the same time.

And that's why I love it.

<Shiny holds her skirt and does a little curtsy.>

Beautiful perspective and wonderfully written.

 

[gin53man]

OMG what a wonderful description of that moment when passion becomes fucking. How would you describe the various moments of bliss that fucking entails? The initial insertion when the cock head first spreads the lips? From my male perspective the incredible warm, wet feeling as cunt walls swallow and hold my cock. Hell, you've got my precum flowing. Great job!!!

 

[19jimbo99]

Well said . Spreading your thighs is the moment of invitation, and that involuntary hip rock, pelvic thrusts usually followed with a moan...is when you go from foreplay to come and fuck me,as you said hormonal flowing scary monkey girl..so the opening of the thighs is the green light if you will .
Also when the vagina goes from a ummm slit to a fully aroused ,wet open flower .very primal , needy , is an amazing fact of human sexuality..IMHO.
Now I need to go find a " scary monkey girl "

 

[Bigspurt]

Welcome to another edition of Shiny Overthinks Her Libido!

This morning I was thinking about the particular moment during sex when I first open my legs, and how there's a special thrill that accompanies it. Partially I think it's because I was taught that nice girls kept their thighs discreetly closed so on some deep level opening my legs to a man feels like a transgression. I'm breaking the rules and being bad.

But mostly I think it's because spreading my legs is the precise moment when romance turns into fucking. Up until that point, even if I'm mostly or entirely naked, there's a certain grace and decorum to the proceedings. He caresses me, I caress him, we kiss and stare into each other's eyes wistfully. There may be passion, but it's contained and controlled. We're two people in love, and it's beautiful and sweet. We're not, you know ... filthy fucking animals.

But then, something happens to triggers the switch. Maybe its the particular way he's kissing my throat, or the feel of his hard cock in my hand, but whatever it is, the gauzy romantic veil drops away and we're just two eager bodies, desperate for satisfaction. And that's when I spread my legs. I mean, it's not always me that spreads them. Sometimes he opens them with his hands instead of waiting for me to do it myself. But the point is they're open, and I want them to be open, and my most private place is completely exposed, and there's no more illusions about what's going to happen next.

It's impossible for a woman to look elegant or cultured or graceful when she's got her thighs open. It's inherently an ungainly, awkward position, what with your feet dangling up in the air, and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory. Classical sculptors never depicted women like that. Even naked, women's bodies were always sculpted as a collection of sinuous architectural curves. Not bent bony knees, tits flat on your chest, shiny cunt-lips open.

But at the moment I spread my legs, I don't care anymore about looking elegant or cultured or graceful. All I care about is fucking, about having a thick hard cock or at least two fingers or a tongue up inside me. The thrill of spreading my legs is the thrill of surrender, not to him (although sometimes to him), but surrender to my animal instincts. Surrender to the naked, filthy Homo Erectus version of Shiny who is still lurking somewhere deep inside my monkey brain. That version of Shiny is a filthy fucking animal. She doesn't care about her professional responsibilities, or the mortgage payment, or that cute pair of shoes she saw on the Nordstrom website. All she cares about is spreading her thighs as wide as she can so she can be mounted and fucked, because she's running entirely on female hormones and monkey instinct.

It's scary letting animal Shiny out. I'm usually very much in control of myself, but Homo Erectus Shiny has no self-control at all. Spreading my thighs means handing over the steering wheel to monkey girl. She's in the driver's seat and all normal rational Shiny (the one typing this) can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. It's scary and and amazing and filthy and sublime, all at the same time.

And that's why I love it.

<Shiny holds her skirt and does a little curtsy.>

Made me hard and ready for that first, slow, head only, teasing penetration! Holding out for as long as she can stand it, then a strong, balls deep plunge to the hilt.

 

[WillJ8787]

Jeez!

Shiny - what you described is so profoundly erotic! Thank you.

 

[SluggerOToole]

Shiny - I love your writing & posts. Thank you!

 

[albertaboy]

Love your posts Shiny

 

[BrightShinyGirl]

OMG what a wonderful description of that moment when passion becomes fucking. How would you describe the various moments of bliss that fucking entails? The initial insertion when the cock head first spreads the lips? From my male perspective the incredible warm, wet feeling as cunt walls swallow and hold my cock. Hell, you've got my precum flowing. Great job!!!

Ooooooh, first penetration! That’s also a moment with its own particular favor! Hmmmmm ... let me think about it ...

 

[Privates1stClass]

Shiny, you have a way with words. Your description of the love act is one of the best I've read. Thanks.

 

[OneAuthor]

Fantastic description, BrightShinyGirl

Wow, that could almost be a story unto itself. If it was, I'd definitely give it 5 stars... and favorite it, too.

 

[Scareltt]

What a topic...

Never do I feel as vulnerable, and empowered as when I’m on my back my legs spread. Wether it’s for my vibrator, lovers mouth, or their cock. If it’s the latter two it will be intimate, there will be eye contact, and kissing.

The pleasure of feeling a hard cock against my hand as I guide the tip in. Or watching a lovers eyes as they realize how wet and excited they have made me as they slide inside me. My soft moan as I feel them as deep inside me as they can go. That pause just before they pull back and push back forward. The wondering is this going to be gentle love making. Or are we going to get primal and fuck.

The looking your lover in the eyes as you whisper encouraging words. Hearing them telling you “how good you feel.” To their cock, or how wet you are.

I enjoy every second of that.

 

[Asian_Flower]

Never do I feel as vulnerable, and empowered as when I’m on my back my legs spread. Wether it’s for my vibrator, lovers mouth, or their cock. If it’s the latter two it will be intimate, there will be eye contact, and kissing.

The pleasure of feeling a hard cock against my hand as I guide the tip in. Or watching a lovers eyes as they realize how wet and excited they have made me as they slide inside me. My soft moan as I feel them as deep inside me as they can go. That pause just before they pull back and push back forward. The wondering is this going to be gentle love making. Or are we going to get primal and fuck.

The looking your lover in the eyes as you whisper encouraging words. Hearing them telling you “how good you feel.” To their cock, or how wet you are.

I enjoy every second of that.

Oh yes, so beautifully written. You and Shiny have captured it perfectly. Just wonderful.

 

[Scareltt]

Everyone should get to read this.

Welcome to another edition of Shiny Overthinks Her Libido!

This morning I was thinking about the particular moment during sex when I first open my legs, and how there's a special thrill that accompanies it. Partially I think it's because I was taught that nice girls kept their thighs discreetly closed so on some deep level opening my legs to a man feels like a transgression. I'm breaking the rules and being bad.

But mostly I think it's because spreading my legs is the precise moment when romance turns into fucking. Up until that point, even if I'm mostly or entirely naked, there's a certain grace and decorum to the proceedings. He caresses me, I caress him, we kiss and stare into each other's eyes wistfully. There may be passion, but it's contained and controlled. We're two people in love, and it's beautiful and sweet. We're not, you know ... filthy fucking animals.

But then, something happens to triggers the switch. Maybe its the particular way he's kissing my throat, or the feel of his hard cock in my hand, but whatever it is, the gauzy romantic veil drops away and we're just two eager bodies, desperate for satisfaction. And that's when I spread my legs. I mean, it's not always me that spreads them. Sometimes he opens them with his hands instead of waiting for me to do it myself. But the point is they're open, and I want them to be open, and my most private place is completely exposed, and there's no more illusions about what's going to happen next.

It's impossible for a woman to look elegant or cultured or graceful when she's got her thighs open. It's inherently an ungainly, awkward position, what with your feet dangling up in the air, and your naked pussy right there on display in all its messy baroque glory. Classical sculptors never depicted women like that. Even naked, women's bodies were always sculpted as a collection of sinuous architectural curves. Not bent bony knees, tits flat on your chest, shiny cunt-lips open.

But at the moment I spread my legs, I don't care anymore about looking elegant or cultured or graceful. All I care about is fucking, about having a thick hard cock or at least two fingers or a tongue up inside me. The thrill of spreading my legs is the thrill of surrender, not to him (although sometimes to him), but surrender to my animal instincts. Surrender to the naked, filthy Homo Erectus version of Shiny who is still lurking somewhere deep inside my monkey brain. That version of Shiny is a filthy fucking animal. She doesn't care about her professional responsibilities, or the mortgage payment, or that cute pair of shoes she saw on the Nordstrom website. All she cares about is spreading her thighs as wide as she can so she can be mounted and fucked, because she's running entirely on female hormones and monkey instinct.

It's scary letting animal Shiny out. I'm usually very much in control of myself, but Homo Erectus Shiny has no self-control at all. Spreading my thighs means handing over the steering wheel to monkey girl. She's in the driver's seat and all normal rational Shiny (the one typing this) can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride. It's scary and and amazing and filthy and sublime, all at the same time.

And that's why I love it.

<Shiny holds her skirt and does a little curtsy.>

It’s a shame she doesn’t write more stories... Lit is lucky to have her.