On the list of ‘top 10 emails most likely to grab my attention’, shortly behind ‘free gin’ is the email that says ‘would you like a guest blog about cock?’

This week’s guest blogger is Rose Tinted Glasses – someone whose writing I have admired for a very long time. He writes witty, charming, filthy stories and has a way with words that makes me wish I was sitting in the pub sharing these things with him.

He emailed me to offer a guest blog about dick – specifically on the age-old question ‘does dick size matter?’ I’ve always wanted to get a guest blog on this topic from someone who has a penis of their own. If I had one I’d be too busy masturbating and weeing patterns on concrete patio slabs, but he has kindly taken time out from penis-based fun to give us a filthy and insightful view on size, and everything that goes with it.

Does dick size matter?

I am old enough to have not had the Internet around when I discovered porn. Like most British boys back then I first saw porn in magazines, dumped in hedgerows in the countryside. A cliché, but like most clichés, it was borne of some truth. That really did used to happen. Walking along a country lane you think ‘what’s that in the undergrowth?’ and when you have a look, you have hit paydirt. A glossy, filthy magazine – thrown away by someone who did not want to be caught with it at home. Word would spread around the village, ‘There’s a jazz mag out by the path along the main road’ or wherever.

I remember one summer holiday afternoon a mate asking whether I wanted to check out the one he’d found that week. Of course I did. So we rode out on our bikes, left them at the top of an embankment just off the road, and scrambled down the grassy bank to a path at the bottom. There was a hedgerow and, sure enough, a porn magazine hidden in the undergrowth. We crouched down and flicked through the pages. “I’m gonna have a wank.” announced my friend, then added “If I wank like this more often, will my dick get to be as big as yours?”

I hadn’t got a clue. I told him I didn’t know. That was the first time I was really aware that cocks come in different sizes.

I’m in my mid-thirties and I am, generally, pretty secure in myself – in my sexual preferences, my likes and dislikes, and definitely comfortable with my cock. I’m happy with being me. It’s not enormous. I’m not a porn star with a huge dong. It’s bigger than average, but not so large as to be a ‘big deal’. I have learned, for certain, that size isn’t good or bad. It’s just what it is. There is no such thing as ‘too small’ or ‘too big’. No such thing as ‘too curved’ or ‘the wrong shape’. People either fit together well or they don’t – and whatever your cock is like, there are people out there who it will work perfectly for. So perfectly they will be screaming your name and begging you to put it back inside them.

Our self-image is governed by the reactions and comments of others. Their perceptions are filtered through their own past experiences. It’s circular. Whilst sort-of-dating (but really more like sort-of-shagging-regularly) two girlfriends in our first year of university, one of them would tell me often how I was the biggest she had ever had, how much she loved it and how much it hurt, just a little, in that good way, when I was inside her. The other girl said quite the opposite. That my cock was ‘nice but not all that big’. Then again, she was able to swallow me all the way to the base of my shaft, so I took her at her word. A cynic might have thought that the former of the girls was lying to flatter me. I didn’t. I thought that they had just had very different past experiences.

My ex-wife was more experienced than I was, when we first met. She had been around. I mean that as a compliment – I admire a little experience and an open mind. She never complimented my cock, at all. She simply wasn’t impressed. We had talked about it, I forget why … and she just said that she’d had much bigger in the past. And it had hurt, to the point where it was unpleasant. Size really isn’t everything, guys.

Widening my sexual horizons over the years meant that I developed a bit more perspective on the size of my cock. You learn a lot about other guys’ dicks when you start enjoying threesomes, group sex, or going along to swingers clubs. Even more so when you get stuck in and play with some of the guys as well as the girls.

For example … there was a couple I had met at a swingers club. Only chatting, before everybody split off towards the bedrooms later on. They were friendly, and we stayed in touch online. The husband emailed me a few weeks later, saying that it was his wife’s birthday at the weekend and he wanted to give her a treat. Would I be up for calling round, along with as many other guys as he could round up, to gangbang his wife? I had no idea people actually used that word in the real world. Gangbang. It sounded like something you should only ever use in comedies. I am a sucker for new experiences though, so I said yes.

I followed the husband’s directions out to leafy suburbia on a quiet Sunday afternoon and knocked on the door. He answered, said hi, we shook hands, and he led me inside and straight up the stairs. “We’ve got ten guys, including you. More might turn up. I have to keep pulling these trousers back on to answer the door …” He pointed me through the upstairs rooms when we reached the landing. “That’s the bedroom, the bathroom, and the spare. If you can take off all your clothes in the spare room and just pile them up somewhere, then come through … I’ll see you in a minute.”

Now, I had been to sex parties before, but ten guys and one girl was a different matter entirely. Walking into a room full of strangers, naked, is an unnerving experience. We were all completely nude. Guys of all sizes and ages, standing around the perimeter of the bedroom. The husband had slipped out of his trousers, but still had a T-shirt on. He was the only one. His wife was kneeling in the middle of the bed, in the centre of the room. She was wearing a black lingerie set – nothing fancy, but nice. She was giggling and grinning from ear to ear. This felt weird, but not at all unsafe. Her obvious glee put me at ease. Nothing bad was likely to happen here. The husband laid out some ground rules. Sensible stuff. Condoms for penetration and if any of you are bisexual, please don’t freak out the straight guys in the room – this is just about giving her a treat, not you.

“Come on then.” said the wife. “Give me some cocks.” She reached to her left, for the nearest guy, and took his cock in her hand. He was halfway hard and she slowly stroked him all the way, then leaned over and took him in her mouth. A couple of the guys on the opposite side of the bed sort of looked at each other and shrugged, before climbing on to the bed. One positioned himself beside her and guided her spare hand to his crotch, the other knelt on the pillows at the top of the bed and gave her a slap on the arse cheek. She let the first guy’s cock go and giggled again. “Good start. Come on, the rest of you.”

I’m not here to tell you how that afternoon progressed in filthy detail (that is what my own blog is for), but it is a good way to talk about variety. We went from awkwardly standing around in various degrees of arousal to being a room full of hard cocks taking turns, anything up to five at a time, with the wife. When not joining in, most of us were standing beside, watching and wanking. There were guys with small cocks. Guys with circumcised and uncircumcised cocks. Guys with straight cocks, curved cocks, and even a couple of guys who couldn’t get it up. There was one guy with an enormous cock. Probably the biggest I have ever seen in the flesh. Long, thick, and kept rock-solid with a steel cock ring. He was taking poppers as well, which nobody else in the room wanted to join in with, despite his generous offers. At one point he was sliding his fingers into the girl’s cunt whilst I was fucking her – reaching between my legs with my balls slapping off his wrist and pushing two fingers in alongside my dick. I was thankful it was his fingers and not that massive cock.

I did learn something from that afternoon. (Aside from the welcome knowledge that being surrounded by other men didn’t stop me from performing, as it were.) I realised that despite the huge variation in cock size, and body shape … that girl was just as happy with every single one of us. She just wanted cock. She did not care if you had a big one or a small one. They were all good. (Which sounds like a certain Girl On The Net we all know and love.) And she was right. I have gone down on guys in my time. I don’t care if yours is smaller than mine, it’s still going to feel hot as hell wrapping my lips around it and making you come.

Did you enjoy that as much as I did? Then please do visit his excellent blog – Rose Tinted Glasses – and follow him on Twitter. I agree with most of what he says, although I have to take exception on the phrase ‘gang bang‘ (it is one of my favourites). But on dicks? They’re beautiful – long, short, fat, thin, curved in any direction: there’s more variety than Heinz. Ironically, one of the few areas in which men tend not to differ is in their attitudes towards their own dick  – firstly that they worry about it, and secondly that they rarely ever need to.

In a fit of rashness, I recently wrote about how anal sex isn’t just hot because of the purely physical sensations. Most sex is – to my mind – enjoyably filthy because of how you do it. Exactly what you do matters less than the dominant, eager way in which you do it. You can wank me off in a way that both of us find tedious and uninspiring, or with the addition of a few dirty words whispered in my ear and one arm gripping me tightly around the chest, you can rub me off in a way that feels close and filthy.

But, in explaining how sex isn’t just about physical reductionism, I missed a key opportunity to talk about how some very specific physical things make me tense with swooning lust. Today I’m going to talk about feeling full.

Three dudes at once, obviously

The dream, of course, is to have three men at once. Something which, despite my very best efforts, hasn’t happened yet. To have one guy filling my cunt while another pushes deep into my arse, and a final man pushing his dick so deep in my throat that I can barely choke new oxygen down to my lungs.

While I’m enjoying being gagged by one guy, the other two can feel not only the aching throb of my cunt and arse, but the taut force of each other’s dicks, sliding together through my own skin. They fill me so I cry out, and push back onto them – wanting to experience the full length of each of them, as deep as they can possibly go. They fill me so I can’t remember what it felt like to be empty. Until I can’t believe anything else will fit. And then, as one, they come inside me. Vigorously pumping spunk into anywhere it will go, proving that I was ever so slightly easier to fill than I thought.

Sadly, this dream of feeling full of cock will have to be put to one side for now: the logistics of finding three willing men, all of whom I fancy and all of whom fancy both me and each other is a challenge that I am yet to conquer. Besides, double penetration looks easy in porn when all the actors are lithe and athletic and don’t seem to mind one dick slipping out every now and then. In my fantasy this can work exactly how I want it to, with none of those pesky physical limitations to get in the way.

“I can come like this”

In the meantime there’s always option two: the late-night lazy fuck that sees me lying on my stomach, being fucked hard from behind. I can grip the iron bars at the headboard and push back to feel his thick cock stretching me open. I can hear the squirt of lube as he covers his fingers, and feel achingly full as he pushes them into me.

A long time ago a guy did this, during the very last fuck we ever had. He pushed two fingers deep into my ass and groaned as he felt the solid length of his cock through my own skin. His fingertips rubbed the inside of me, simultaneously pressing onto the ridges around the head of his dick. Back and forth, faster and wetter and slicker, as I moaned at the feeling of being full. As he moved faster and faster, rubbing at both me and himself, he grunted, and exclaimed with delight: “I can come like this. Just like this.” A few more back-and-forth movements, the twitch of him deep in my cunt, and I felt all the excitement pour out of him and into me.

I still regret that it was the only time he got to do it. I’d have loved to have more fucking stories that involve him revelling in this new trick, testing new and different ways to jerk himself off through my ass, as I writhed in fullness and squealed delight into the pillow. If you’d like to try doing this but you don’t know anyone to try it with, I’m told there are double-holed masturbators that you can penetrate with both your dick and either your fingers/another object of your choice that will allow you similar sensations.

Filling fucks between just two people

The fingers are hot because he can control the sensation – other things are hot because I can control them myself. The feeling of being full doesn’t always require a stable of willing men or a guy who knows how to use his fingers in just the right way. This is one of the places where a well-made and perfectly shaped sex toy has not just a place in my bedroom but pride of place nestled deep inside me.

Sitting dead still on someone’s cock is fun – the moaning, twitching, desperate need for movement and sensation gives me a feeling of total power and control. I could grind slowly, I could clench all the muscles inside my cunt and watch his eyes grow wide as he feels the whole of me squeezing – hugging – his dick. Even more fun, then, to hold him tight in that position, gripping him with force and power, then slowly push something deep into my ass. Something long and slim, that I can control easily. Something that buzzes and vibrates against the length of him. He can feel what I’m doing as I push it deeper, as I angle it so it shivers down the full length of his cock. And as I do it, I squeeze harder – the better to revel in that full-up sensation.

But having the power is a rare delight – something that’s only fun for me because it happens so infrequently. Far more enjoyable, I think, to have him on top of me – bearing down. The fullness is better when someone else is controlling it, and I’m begging for more of it. His dick in my cunt anchors me in place – I squirm and wriggle on it as he pushes something slim inside my ass. Then something bigger. Then, with a growling whisper, he asks me if I can take more. If he can swap it out for the third most filling item in the trio. Despite knowing that it won’t fit, I’ll always say yes. Please. Do it. Try it. I’ll fail, yet again, but the temptation of finding something that stretches me out to the point I know I can’t feel fuller is just too much to resist.

When I fail at the largest one, we’ll step it down again, and I’ll enjoy knowing that I very nearly made it.

Can you come from ‘filling’ sex?

Does it make me come, though? This specific, hot, physical sensation? Of course. Although there’s nothing biologically that says ‘this will thrill the nerve endings in just the right way’, the feeling of being stretched and full adds to all the other things that are going on – the sensation of his dick pushing against the inside of me, the sound of him breathing heavily, telling me I’m so good for taking it. The gentle slaps on my arse, sucking bites at my nipples, rough hands gripping my hips to pull me further back onto him. All of these build, one wave on top of another, eventually pushing me over the edge of arousal and into that rushing, twitching, gagging choke of orgasm.

My final, and favourite trick is the one that brings me there most quickly: crouched on my knees, with my face pushed hard into the bedsheets, his dick dripping with lube and deep inside me, and my hands working busily to push something hard into my cunt. A rabbit vibrator, usually. Despite it’s often twee connotations, it has exactly what I’m after: length and girth to fill me up, and the added bonus of a vigorous buzz directly against my aching clit. I’ll hold it there, right up to the hilt, a still and solid anchor to clench down on, while he fucks up hard against it until he comes. 

This post uses affiliate links, which means if you buy things from the shops you visit, I get a small cut which helps me keep this site running.

Five years ago, if you’d asked me if I’d like an ‘erotic massage’ I would have told you to fuck off to Ann Summers and take your gentle vanilla sex with you. I used to think that ‘erotic massage’ was basically a cunning way to delay a fuck, and thus an unnecessarily cruel trick that a partner might play on me when he didn’t really want to shag me and hoped I’d fall asleep before things started getting sticky.

I think it’s partly because the word ‘erotic’ is, to me, anything but. It evokes a gentleness and romance that I don’t find particularly hot. Filthy? Yes. Hot? Yes. Erotic? Nah. It’s why I’d always rather say that I write ‘filth‘ than that I write ‘erotica’. For many people that word may well mean total cunt-throbbing power, but for me it sounds like soft strokes and feathery kisses and the tickling touch of a considerate lover. Erotic massage, to me, never felt like something I could enjoy with the all-out aching lust that I look for in a decent fuck.

I was wrong.

Erotic massage as powerful filth

It’s late, and as usual I’m in bed first. Face-down on the pillows and just nodding off as he comes into the room.

“Are you awake?”

“Just about.”

He grabs a bottle of moisturiser from the shelf and pulls the bedcovers down so that I’m exposed from the back of my neck to the tops of my thighs. He slaps me on the arse. He straddles me.

I’m tired – so tired. I’m struggling on the edge of sleep and torn between wanting to fall into it, and wanting to stay awake for his touches. I hear the slick squirt as he grabs a handful of moisturiser.

“Do you want a massage?” He asks like it’s a gentle thing – a generous thing, but I know in this instance it’s not. Because, over the course of a year or so, he’s changed my opinion of the ‘erotic massage’ – it’s become something exquisitely filthy, dirty. An excuse for him to touch me. It’s something he’ll only do when his dick is hard and he’s throbbing and he wants to coax my cunt into throbbing in the same way.

He puts his hands on my back. One at the top, pressing down just below my neck so my face is forced deeper into the pillow. The other slides roughly down, snaking from my shoulder to my spine, down below the line of my knickers and into the crack of my arse. The wetness from the moisturiser spreads. He pushes his hand back up to join the other at my neck, then pulls both down hard, dragging along my wet skin, forcing my back into an arched curve. His hands reach the small of my back, and he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my knickers.

His dick is pushing into me – hard and urgent through my crotch. His hands work more quickly. Pressing, pushing, dragging along my naked skin. Not gentle: rough. Not generous: desperate. He squeezes me, presses me, moulds my back into willing shapes. Up again to the nape of my neck to push my face further into the bed. Down to the small of my back to force my stomach tight against the sheets. Up to grab a handful of hair and make me gasp. Down to my arse, squeezing at me, spreading the cheeks so he can shove his cock right up against me.

I’m awake now – wide awake. Arching and pushing against him, lifting my arse and spreading myself to guide his dick into me. He drops the moisturiser and grabs lube.

As he did with my back, so he does with my cunt. Moistening, pushing, shaping. Rough hands and slick fingers working lube all over me. Every inch of his cock and every line and fold of my crotch. He pushes dripping fingers into me, and uses wet hands to pull me open. I grip the pillow with my fists and push back, begging him to fuck me.

“Please,” as I can feel the tip of his dick stretching the entrance to my cunt. “Pleeeease.” A whining, desperate moan, and his hand is on my neck again. One hand at my neck, and one on the small of my back, holding me in the perfect shape. He holds still. Waiting. Twitching. Controlling.

I urge him forwards but he won’t move – he’ll never move. He’ll wait until I make it on my own, as I struggle against his grip and try to pull myself down right onto the shaft of his swollen cock.

“Please.”

I push harder, straining against his solid grip. Finally, I feel it – the rush and twitch in my cunt as I ease backwards onto him. As he fills me up with his lubed-up dick and tells me I’m a dirty girl.

Then – and only then – does he really start to fuck me.

One of the best things about knowing someone well is that you understand their intimate fantasies. The things they tell you that they’ve never told anyone else. “I want someone to do this,” uttered with a slight nervousness and possibly a blush. I love being close enough to a guy that, when a particular scene appears on TV (police bundling their latest arrest into the back of a van, for instance) he can nudge me, whisper things in my ear, and know that it has pushed the exact buttons of one of my darkest fantasies.

This week’s guest blog comes from a couple, but with a bit of a twist. He has written a story tailored perfectly to her tastes. Something he has crafted based on all the things he knows she loves, and fantasises about. When he sent it through to me I wondered if he had accidentally wandered into my own head. Before we begin, I’m going to tell you that this story is quite extreme. It involves pain, group sex, and some utterly filthy stuff. Some of us like that, some of us don’t, so if you might be triggered by it please don’t read.

If, however, you like the idea of writing porn that is specifically tailored to one person, feel free to take up the challenge he’s laid down: can you write something for someone you know that is so perfectly tailored to the things they like that they can’t help but be aroused? Here’s his contribution…

Someone else’s story: highly personalised erotica

She’s alone in the room. She can hear their voices, muffled by the walls. They blend into one another, and all she’s left with is noise and anticipation. She tries to count them; to figure out how many there are, but she keeps losing track. She’s lying on the bed, eyes blindfolded, skin prickled. Her body scarcely covered by a red thong and bra. She’s breathing heavily. Her heart pounding in her chest.

Any minute now.

She tries to catch glimpses of the room, but her movement is limited. He told her to lie there on her stomach and wait. So, that’s what she’s doing. He told her not to move, so she doesn’t move.

She hears laughter from the outside. She doesn’t know how this will go. She doesn’t know whether she’ll like it or hate every second; but this is what she wanted. She asked for it, and now he’s giving it to her. She’s terrified, but the slickness between her thighs betrays her excitement.

The room is bare. The bed, covered in a simple plastic sheet, lies in the middle of the room, leaving space for movement around its four sides. There is a tarp on the floor. The light overhead is stark and bright. There are no candles or soft shadows here. There is nothing romantic about this. This is functional.

She hears the door click open, and the sound pours in from the rooms beyond. She hears men speaking, but doesn’t recognise their voices. They’re joking and laughing, and she can hear the pauses when they take sips from their drinks. She hears the tarp crinkling beneath their feet as they approach her. She’s not sure how many are in the room. She counts three, maybe four voices, but there are more outside.

She wants to ask who they are, but that would be against the rules. “Speak only when you’re spoken to.” That was what he’d told her earlier. Speaking now would defeat the purpose of the whole exercise.

The men keep chatting. They’re casual, as though there’s nothing unusual about this. None seem to notice, or acknowledge her. She’s invisible. Suddenly she feels a hand grab her ass. She breathes in quickly, and holds it. The gesture is somewhere between hard and rough. He pinches her ass cheek, and pulls it to one side. Another touches her on the stomach, sliding fingers across her skin. They’re sampling her; talking among themselves the whole time. The hand on her ass moves down between her thighs towards the slickness. Her breaths are shallow and fast. The men keep chatting, but she hears them spreading out now. There is at least one man by her head, and one to her side, and one, maybe two, by her feet. The hand between her thighs moves toward her cunt. He pushes the panties to one side, and she feels a finger push into her. Separating her. Opening her up. She gasps and pushes her face down into the mattress. His fingers move in and out quickly, her cunt increasingly drenched. She’s about to come, when she hears a zipper being undone somewhere close to her head, and a hand grabs the back of her hair, and pulls her head up. His cock is already hard when he pushes it into her mouth. She wraps her lips around it, and moves her tongue along the lower side.

“Suck it.” His hand is holding the back of her head, but it does nothing. He’s given her an order, and she follows it. She moves her head forward and backwards, faster and faster.

“Use your hands.” She reaches up and wraps her palm around the base of his cock, and starts moving in the opposite direction to her mouth. She twists her palm with every movement. She hears him breathing deeper, harder now.

A finger runs up from the small of her back to the nape of her neck. Her skin prickles, and she struggles to concentrate. Her cunt is slick and the finger inside it slams back and forth, faster and faster. She wants to come.

The man at her head pushes his cock deep into her mouth, and she feels herself gag. She wants to stop, to resist, but she doesn’t.

“Fucking take it!” He pushes hard on the back of her head as he jams his cock down her throat. She does as she’s told. She feels him wrench her head off of his cock, and he slaps her quickly. She doesn’t expect it, and lets out a whelp. He pushes his cock back into her mouth. She reaches up and starts jerking him off again.

She tries to concentrate on his cock, but the man at her cunt, or maybe one of the other men has started to pull down her thong, exposing her ass. She feels a finger sliding between her cheeks, playing with her asshole. She clenches, but he keeps at it. She hears the sound of a zipper and a belt, and fabric, and she realises that someone is taking off their pants. Strong hands grip her waist, and pull her back toward the edge of the bed. The man at her head pulls his cock out of her mouth and releases the back of her head. Her feet are on the carpet now, her body bent at a right angle over the bed. She feels the man behind her pull her underwear to one side, and then she feels his cock slide into her. She’s wet enough that there’s no resistance. She moans, and then she hears someone tell her to shut up. The man behind her lifts her body up so that she’s standing. She can feel his cock slamming into her again and again. Her cunt envelops him, and she imagines what it must look like. Someone grabs her bra and pulls it down forcefully. They grab at her tits and pinch her nipples and she moans again. She feels weight on the bed in front of her, and then another slap across her cheek.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Someone spits in her face, and then grabs the back of her head and forces it hard onto a cock. She reaches up to jerk it off, but she struggles. It’s hard to focus, to concentrate. The cock in her cunt feels as though it will tear through her. The cock in her mouth chokes her. Her nipples are sore from the fingers gripping them.

“Jerk it, you fucking slut!” She reaches up and wraps her hand around the cock in her mouth. She struggles, but she does whatever she can to get some sort of rhythm going. She takes him as deeply as she can, and she feels bile and spit pouring from her lips. Her eyes water beneath the blindfold, and she pictures the mascara running down her cheeks. His breathing becomes increasingly frantic, and he pulls the cock from her mouth, and starts jerking himself off, and she feels hot streams of come splattering across her face, blindfold, and lips, and he pushes his cock into her mouth for the last few spurts and she tastes it, hot on her tongue, and he tells her to swallow, and she does just that.

She feels a hand push hard against her back, grabbing at the remains of her bra, and her face slams into the mattress and the man behind her fucks her as hard as he can. She hears the sound of her bra rip, and soon she can’t feel it around her. He pushes down on her back, and forces her into the mattress. She feels the early waves of orgasm begin to flow through her. He slaps her ass once, twice, three times, four times, and she feels tears streaming from her eyes now as she comes on his cock, and then he hits her again, and his cock hurts as he slams it into her, but her cunt clenches around him as she spasms and, with a final violent thrust, she feels him pulsing and twitching as he comes deep inside her. He remains there for a moment, recovering himself, before pulling out. Her body is a mess of spasm, but she has no time to recover before she feels someone else take his place, and her cunt, drenched in her juices and filled with another man’s come is occupied with a new cock.

Her ass, already sore from the beating, hurts even more when someone pulls the thong violently and tears it away. She’s naked now. She feels a finger pushing into her ass, and she gasps. He isn’t simply playing with her asshole, he’s trying to finger her. She feels him stretch her open, and although it hurts, she pushes back onto him. He has large hands, with thick fingers. She can almost count the knuckles as they slide into her, and there she lies, filled in from behind, pressing back onto this new man as the waves begin again. She comes on his cock and his finger, and suddenly he grabs her hair and pulls her body up violently and calls her a slut, and although she is in pain, he fucks her hard. That’s when she feels someone standing in front of her, and someone else starts to slap her tits and grab at her body, and all of a sudden there is a hand around her throat and her breathing is cut off. She becomes delirious, and struggles, and wants to cry out, but she can’t and she comes again, harder this time; her orgasm punctuated by the suffocation and just then the hand around her neck releases and she breathes in deeply and tries to recover, remembering how good it feels to have air.

Someone hits her across the face, harder than she wants, and calls her a cunt, and tells her to open wide, and then she feels a stream of hot liquid splashing across her face and into her mouth, and when she realises that someone is pissing on her she wants to close her mouth, and to run away, and she almost does, but they told her to open wide, so she keeps it open, and she sputters and gags, and almost throws up, but she does as she is told.

Then the man in her cunt pulls out and pushes her aside. She feels him lie down on the bed, and then someone lifts her up and sets her down on him, facing away. She feels his cock pushing against her asshole, opening her up, and sliding inside her. It hurts, and she whimpers, but she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes sting from the mascara. Her mouth tastes of piss and come, and her nipples are red from the pinching. Her body is drenched in sweat. She is sure there will be bruises around her neck. This isn’t tender or gentle or kind. This isn’t an evening of romance. This is what she wanted. She is their toy. A set of holes to be used and filled and defiled. This is what she’d asked for.

She feels his cock slide deep into her until the point that she is sitting on him. He grips her waist and starts moving her back and forth and tears stream from her eyes as he fucks her in the ass. She reaches down to touch herself, to help push herself over the edge, but someone slaps her hand away. She reaches back to touch the man behind her, but someone slaps her face hard and she half screams. Then she feels someone move in close to her. She can feel the heat from their body. They grab her legs and lift them up, exposing her cunt. Her thighs are covered in juice and come, and she is slick. Fingers push into her mouth, and they grip tightly, half down the back of her throat. She feels a cock sliding into her cunt, and she winces as she feels herself completely filled, and stretched. The man in front of her pushes in, as the other pulls out. She hears the sounds of other men in the room, and realises that they must all be gathered to watch the show. This makes her feel something, and the waves of orgasm wash over again, and she comes quickly. She pushes back onto any cock that will take her and tries to hold onto the waves as they crash over her again and again, and the fucking grows increasingly frantic, and the fingers in her mouth are making it hard to swallow, and she is drooling, and her chest is covered in sweat, spit, come and piss, and her body is sore, and in spasm, as she imagines the two men inside her, and their cocks touching deep within, and their shafts rubbing up against one another, and their balls smacking together and she wishes that she could watch them fuck; watch them writhe together, and as she thinks about this she spasms deeply once again, and this forces the man in her cunt over the top, and he pulls his cock from her and jerks off onto her stomach, in long, hot spurts. She imagines the come spraying and splattering onto the guy behind her, and she wishes that she could watch them lick it off of one another. The thought is lost when someone grabs her, and picks her up, and the cock slides from her ass, and she feels empty all of a sudden. She is forced to her knees, and she becomes aware that the men are now surrounding her. She can hear the sounds of them jerking off, and she knows what will be next. One by one, they come all over her. On her face, her chest, in her mouth, and her hair. The man who had been in her ass tells her to open wide, and he forces his cock into her mouth, and he tells her to suck him dry, and she does. She grabs his cock and jerks him off as well, and with her free hand she plays with his balls, kneading them, somewhere between gently and rough. She runs a finger back towards his asshole, and she gently pushes into him, fingering him as she sucks his cock, and he comes hard and deep into her throat, and afterwards he calls her a good girl.

There is the sound of rustling clothes and belts, and zippers and the men start talking among themselves as they dress. They laugh and joke, and soon the voices move into the other room. They don’t say a word to her, but she remains on her knees, waiting at attention.

“Do as you’re told.” He said before all of this had started, and so she simply waits. She wonders if they will come back for another round a bit later. Part of her hopes not. Her body is sore. Her cunt aching. She can barely breathe without her throat burning. Nonetheless, if they come back, she will do it again, regardless of how her body feels. She will find a way. There’s no doubt in her mind. The other part of her, the part that wanted this in the first place, can’t think of anything better.

If you’re now panting and post-orgasmically exhausted having read right to the end of that, then you probably have similar tastes to this guy’s partner – and indeed me. Those of you who read my Christmas fantasy from ages ago will understand why this ticks so many of my ‘holy fuck that’s horny’ boxes. If you fancy having a go yourself, check out my guest blog info and get in touch. I’ll add my contribution to the ‘Write Your Own Smut to Turn on Someone You Know’ project as soon as I can see straight again.