Maybe it’s the rhythm of the train as it clunk-clunks over the tracks, or the hum of the bus engine beneath your seat, but public transport’s fucking sexy, isn’t it? I’ve probably spent almost as much time talking about public transport sex fantasies than any other category. So as this week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt is ‘passenger’, asking us to think about erotic scenarios on buses, trains and planes, I thought I’d go the whole hog and write a sex story about every stage of the journey.

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I’m welcoming back a guest blogger this week! Kim Taylor, of Mommy’s Playground, has written some gorgeous erotica here before about secretly getting it on in the bedroom at a house party, and now she’s back to share some hot threesome erotica. You can read more of her work at the link above, or follow on instagram @ktaylormp082. As someone who struggles a bit with compersion, but nevertheless has a lot of filthy fantasies about threesomes, I appreciate the opportunity for a bit of erotic escapism… and possibly the encouragement to go do it myself sometime soon too.

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I wish I liked wearing make up ‘for me’, but I don’t. I hate wearing make up. I’m shit at putting it on, bad at choosing the colours that suit me, and guaranteed to smear half of it across my face when I rub my eyes after the second pint of the evening. So why do I bother wearing make up? I’m forced to conclude that it’s at least partly because I want to impress men.

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Sexy stories! They’re more than just erotic: mine can be filthy, dirty, naughty, dark, taboo, intense, joyful, weird, confusing, delicious and wrong. And each and every one of these words is hot to me, in the right context. But someone asked recently if ‘filthy’ sex might be the wrong way to describe it, and asked: given the negative connotations of the word ‘filthy’, should we abandon that word in favour of ones which come with a little less baggage?

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This heatwave has now got so bad that even I am starting to miss cuddles. I’m normally far too into the banging to care about the post-fuck snuggles but… it’s getting to me, you know? The lack of human contact caused by the fact that I can’t successfully touch another human without either sticking to them or bursting into flames. So here are a few alternatives to cuddling in a heatwave.

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