Daily Sexy Musing: Dirty Loving

mud-couple

Love is sweet, but sex is dirty. That’s one of the first things you notice when you start consuming romantic media. Even though society has become more sex positive in recent years, there’s no avoiding generations of innuendo and connotations that links sex with all things dirty. Even some aspects of love get caught up in that comparison.

It can be frustrating, and even a little annoying, to see such Puritanical themes in romance, but there are also times when it feels fitting. When you get right down to it, the sexy moments we share with our lovers are objectively dirty. There’s nudity, touching, kissing, and the swapping of various body fluids. It doesn’t always happen on a warm bed with clean bed sheets, either.

There are times when getting dirty is exactly what a moment needs to gain that extra-sexy aura. Sure, there’s plenty of appeal to getting frisky with your lover in the Presidential Suite of a Four Seasons hotel on a private island in the Caribbean. There’s also some appeal to slipping into a dark, dirty broom closet that smells like bleach and dust to get intimate.

It speaks to just how flexible, imaginative, and kinky we can be in exercising our sexy side. That process often requires that we shed the clean, refined traditions we assume are so vital and channel our nasty side. It takes many forms and can make for some incredibly hot moments. This Daily Sexy Musing is my personal dive into those dirty, filthy, disgusting moments that we still love. Enjoy!

The air is muggy.

The floor is dirty.

The lighting is poor.

The mood is tense.

Everything around us so unkempt, devoid of polish or refinement. It’s like the wildness has invaded our domain and won handily, reverting our civilized structures to decrepit relics. To anyone else, it’s the least desirable domain. For us, it is the ultimate destination.

Here, we need not be formal.

Here, we need not be elaborate.

Here, we need not be dignified.

Beneath our clean clothes and groomed flesh, we are the same animals that once rolled around in filth, unashamed and unafraid. No amount of soap, polish, or refinement can wash away our primal nature. Nothing can be done to silence that urge to just throw it all away and run towards the dirtiness.

I take your hand, sweaty and unwashed. We shed all fear and reservation of all things unclean. Sweat, saliva, and grime no longer repulse us. Instead, we savor the unrefined feeling, tapping into instincts long hidden. This filthy domain tried to dissuade us. Instead, we make it our own.

Every kiss is messy and sloppy.

Every touch is unguided and unabashed.

Every sound is raw and animalistic.

The dirt becomes our bed and the dank air becomes our blanket. Free and untamed, we smother each other in our own filth. I taste your truest self and you taste mine. Like unrefined sweets, it confounds our senses, but exhilarates our passions.

Inspired by unclean thoughts and actions, we let the filth collect on our flesh. What takes us such time and effort to clean is sullied so quickly and with great ease. There’s no need to be careful or restrained.

You want our love to get raw.

You want our bodies to messy.

I answer your filthy desires.

I proceed to dirty you from head to toe.

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