This stunning threesome erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard and it picks up the story from part 1 (exhibitionism at the hotel). Check that out first before returning here to dive back in… 

My mind is foggy. My eyes are bleary. My mouth feels like it is full of cotton wool. I can feel the warmth of your body to one side of me. I can just hear the shallow breath of you sleeping. I can feel the tell tale signs of a disheveled bed around me and the pliable but firm casing of your vibrator under my pillow. My body hair is stiff and matted with the previous evening’s sweat and come, and the sweet scent of hard sex lingers in the air. The hotel is full of noises. Maids cleaning rooms. Couples collecting their thrown clothes from the floor and furniture. People going about their regular lives in the street so many floors below. The shower in our en-suite running… I get halfway through thinking “…who the fuck is in our shower?” when the events of the past few hours flood my memory like a vivid dream.

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This is part one of a gorgeous threesome story written and read by SpenPErotica. To whet your appetite, a little exhibitionism in the lift at the hotel…

The message you had sent me earlier had me intrigued. ‘Room 1285. Hurry, I have a present for you…’

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This gorgeous piece of thunderstorm erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard. 

The downpour hit hard and fast. So hard, in fact, that just the sound of the heavens opening and the deluge smashing against the concrete slabs outside made us both jump! The day started off with a low, cold, harsh sun, the kind that forces you to squint as a bitter wind pinches at your face. The kind of weather that stops customers from heading to your pub, no matter if the heating was on full and the beer was good…

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This stunning kinky edging erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard. 

Sharp ropes bite into my wrists with every involuntary squirm of my body. The stiff back of the chair that my hands are tied behind pushes my straining biceps. Every muscle in my body is taut. Aflame with the constant pressure of being kept on the edge of coming.

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This gorgeous piece about dominant facesitting is written by Spencer Pritchard and read by Stephen Carling. 

I’m usually the fuck-er, not the fuckee. Generally speaking, I set the pace of our fucking. Of the strokes of my dick with my hips, egged on by your whimpers and moans, emboldened by your body reacting to mine. I like to be ‘in charge’. To have a handful of your hair as you swallow the tip of my stiff cock, guiding your rhythm and occasionally holding you in place whilst I tell how how much of a good girl you’re being. To hold your wrists behind your back, your face buried in the tangled sheets as I slowly push myself past your glistening folds. To wrap the fingers of one hand around your slender neck as I furiously fuck you with the other, splashing us both with your gushing lust as the pressure builds behind your eyes.

It’s not often that I get to be fucked.

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