Primal Instincts

Disclaimer: This post mentions topics involving consensual sexual violence. Not suitable for individuals under eighteen years of age. Reader discretion is advised.

Last night, I cooked Wolfie and I up a steak dinner. It wasn’t bad, but the air-fried onion rings were a disaster and the steak wasn’t seasoned enough, no thanks to the food processor mill that still hasn’t turned up. I planned for another two course steak dinner with churros, vanilla ice cream and raspberries on the side and a glass of Malbec to wash it all down. What I got, was no Malbec, and a steak TV dinner. Neither part of which I particularly enjoyed.

For me, one of the things that I’ve enjoyed less and less over the years, is red meat. As I cut into my steak, I couldn’t help but feel unenthused by it. I didn’t enjoy the taste of beef, and I always felt a bit rotten about the gestation period of cows which only leads to their offspring’s inevitable slaughter. I wasn’t vegan, but I was certainly mindful. In my half-awake state this morning, I couldn’t help but think about how many young chickens produce.

They’re like flies. Like maggots.

If I at least wanted to keep eating chicken, I’d do well to stop comparing chicken to maggots. I really like chicken, and they are much better than maggots!

To be honest, I was chicken and fish away from going vegetarian. Giving up red meat for me hasn’t been nearly as hard as I thought it would be and since hearing pigs compared to dogs, I couldn’t touch pork. Once you see it, as an empath, you can’t unsee it. I love dogs, so I love pigs. Could I even train a pig to spin in a circle for a treat? It’s possible! I’d even feel less bad about my consumption of milk if only things were a bit more enjoyable for the dairy cows.

After dinner, I air-fried the churros and served them up with my homemade raspberry coulis, fresh raspberries and vanilla ice cream. I got my chef-style sauce spoon sweep perfect on both plates and I smiled, Chef Ramsay would be proud.

With dishes washed up and away, Wolfie and I sat down to watch some Naked Attraction on Channel 4, a show which sees people choose a potential romantic partner, in then shows own words, “based on naked attraction alone”. Although seldom successful, it has has least been responsible for a handful of (somewhat predictable) casual encounters, and a threesome.

The first woman on this episode had twice been a previous contestant and was now entering as the person who got to do the choosing. A larger bi-curious lady with a slightly eccentric attitude, she wittled her choices down from three woman, two men and a couple, to the two muscular men within the selection.

In the programme, the presenter asked the lucky lady about the couple present in the runnings, Barry, a bus driver, and Leanne, a care assistant.

“Have you had a threesome before?” she asked.

We were then taken to a short clip with the most popular choices in the bedroom, with threesomes being the top, just followed by BDSM and sex in public at third.

“Option two! I’ll take option two, please!” I giggled, holding two fingers up in front of me.

That was me, a through and through kinky bitch, threesomes didn’t really much interest me.

On their departure, we were properly introduced to Barry and Leanne, from outside the perspex box that they’d not long ago been stood in.

“I’m getting a DD/lg vibe?” I said casually to Wolfie as a I squinted at the TV. There was something about them, something about the way they were, the way they looked at each other and took care of each other, the bond they shared. I know my types of people.

“Maybe, and now you’ve seen Barry the bus driver’s penis! That’s a thought for you next time you get on the bus” he teased, I gave him a not-too-gentle whump in the arm for his crimes. Barry the bus driver’s penis was not a thought I wanted next time I got on the bus. At all.

At the end of the first round, the contestant ended up taking a tall, muscular gym instructor on a date. She was in her element to be seen with such a hunk, and he, clearly, was not so keen.

“That’s not going anywhere” I said to Wolf. I can read people pretty well, and I could see in his face that he wanted to be anywhere else but there. Sure enough, when she asked him if he fancied her, he was expressly clear that he had no interest in pursuing a romantic or sexual relationship with her. Her face dropped and the warm and bubbly woman she had been became cold, sullen and disrespectful, rolling her eyes as her date left to head for work.

Rejected, but I saw it coming from a mile off.

The second round was Charlie, a young 21 year old forensic science student. For the moment, he caught my attention, owing to my own once-chosen career in forensic science.

“What kinds of things are you into in the bedroom?” the presenter asked.

“I’m quite into BDSM at the moment” Charlie said.

“Right, well, it’s been a pleasure” I teased Wolfie.

“Really? Fancy yourself a toyboy, do you?” he teased back.

“Naw! Okay, I’ll keep Wolfie” I said, wrapping myself around his arm and biting his biceps softly.

“Wait, maybe he’s sub?” I said, pausing for a moment to reconsider the possibility.

“Nope, apparently he’s Dom”

I cocked my head, “really? He doesn’t have that certain… je ne sais quoi for me” I said, resuming my gentle chomping. ‘Je ne sais quoi’ was definitely fitting. What was it, exactly? Darkness? Mystery? Confidence?

Maybe all three?

I nodded to myself, all three.

“So what do you prefer, then?” Wolfie asked, leaning over me.

“I don’t know, tall, dark and handsome?” I shrugged coquettishly, I mean, he was dark. At least in humour, anyway.

“Behave” he warned as I bit my lip, I grinned, and bit my lip harder.

“Do you want to ruin playtime tomorrow?” he threatened, placing a finger on my lips. Instinctively, I ran my tongue up his finger and took it deep into my mouth without breaking eye contact. Unable to contain himself, Wolfie growled and bit my breast. Catching his hands, I held them to his sides and kissed him,

“Now it’s you who needs to behave” I said with a wink.

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