Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl

While watching Torchwood instead of working (and boy am I going to regret that at 3 a.m. when I’m still up writing,) I realized that what my life is really lacking at this moment is great heaping quantities of hot man-on-man action. Lots of sweat and muscles and men pushing each other around. Lots of rough and tumble kissing and wrestling and other skin-on-skin activities. I’m really quite happy most of the time to be a bisexual girl, but sometimes I do think it would be an awful lot of fun to be a gay man. Oh to be a fly on the wall in the corner of a gay leather bar right about now. I haven’t gotten a chance to watch really yummy kinky violent man-sex in ages. Mmm. Happy thoughts. Puts a girl in even more of a clothes-ripping-off mood than normal.

It’s like watching a good movie rape scene*. I do so like a sexy abuse of power. Some good, pinned down, teeth to throat, clothes ripped aside, “I want, I take, your desires are irrelevant,” brutality. “You shouldn’t be here, you little fly on the wall, we’re going to make you regret this indiscretion…”

Freaking Torchwood stirring my imagination like that. Now I’m all hot and bothered and I have to work!!!! Stupid work**.
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*real rape, not hot. Fictional depictions of rape, extremely hot. Even though I sometimes feel guilty for finding them so.
**Normally I’m not this much of a procrastinator, but I just can’t find my focus on this project and it’s kicking my ass.