I was never really one for sexting, in the times Before Him. In recent years, the closest I’ve come to a horny text is sending a sext from the bedroom if I’m post-bath soft and wanting dick, or messaging to let him know that I’ve finished wanking and he’s welcome to come on up. One of the things that scares me about new encounters is – absurdly, bizarrely – the worry that they might need me to stretch my thumbs and engage in written conversation in between dates. Yeah, I know: I’m a sex blogger. I should be good at dating communication. But perhaps it’s the fact that I’m meant to be good at it that leads to so much dread. Where expectations run high, failure is almost guaranteed.

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There are tonnes of things to mourn at the end of a relationship. Not least, in my case, a really awesome holiday I had planned for April this year. Lockdown put paid to that, but the ferry tickets still exist, and the rescheduled dates sit in my diary taunting me: a cycling trip with fondue and fucking and fun which will now likely never come to pass. There are infinite possible worlds in which we didn’t break up, or in which we broke up in far less painful ways, where some of this stuff might have occurred. But in this world, the one that exists for me, here are a few fucks that will never happen.

Note: the third story in this trilogy involves sex-while-asleep. It’s pre-negotiated and fully consensual, but I know some people aren’t into that, so this is just here to let you skip over it if you’d like to. 

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Dunno about you but here at GOTN HQ it’s been a pretty sweaty week. I have stuck to every chair I’ve sat on, and broken my personal record of ‘number of cold showers in a day.’ At the time of writing, it still has not rained. Please enjoy this perspiration-focused erotica about some seriously sweaty fucking, written because I am desperate to turn this cloyingly-icky-humidity-sweat into lovely, wholesome fucksweat. 

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Sometimes I ask my Patreons for ideas for stories, and other times they drop me messages to make specific requests. Erotica is a weird thing, though, and so often when I try to write to one request, the story goes in a weird direction that I never really intended. This one was written with two things in mind: one, a message from someone asking for more stories involving two women; two, a shoutout I did for the hottest thing someone had ever said to them. What came out was not what I intended, but those two things in combination gave me a vivid fantasy about two women in love, using one of their exes like a sex doll, so I wrote this FFM erotica to get it out of my head and onto the page and (hopefully) into your pants, to tingle there delightfully…

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For a very long time, I have had the phrase ‘destroy my cunt’ sitting in my ideas bank. It’s a phrase I used to utterly hate, but which I have softened on in recent years, because I am an eager pervert who will usually fetishise almost every phrase eventually (like ‘monster cock‘ which became the same thing). I know that for many people it’s quite an aggressive-sounding turn-off, so if you’re one of them you probably won’t enjoy this. If you’re like me, though, and you have either enjoyed saying ‘please destroy my cunt’ or ‘I’m gonna destroy your cunt’ then you might like this random stream-of-consciousness porn.

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