Category Archives: Filthy ones
Every single inch: getting your dick all the way in
Bend over. Put your face in the pillow. Stick your ass out. Spread your cheeks. I want to get my dick as far inside you as it will go: all the way in.
Obedience and power: the bet
Sometimes writing is about having a great idea then spending ages writing, rewriting and editing until it can work as a story. At other times it’s just about vomiting an idea onto a page and hoping that people like it. If you’d like the former, check out some other erotic fiction here. If you’re happy with the latter, here’s a story I wrote this week.
Content note: this fiction plays with the idea of non-consent/reluctance, so if that’s not your cup of tea please don’t read on.
10 wank fantasies to inspire you this Masturbation Month
This morning I received a strongly worded letter from the Sex Blogger’s Association, informing me that as I have not yet written any custom content for Masturbation Month, they will soon be removing my Fuckblogger badge and ripping up my membership card. The only way out of this is to write some sauce that explicitly references ‘Masturbation Month.’ So here goes: 10 wank fantasies that you can steal/tweak/edit and enjoy at your leisure.
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I’ve had a hard day / Fuck my face
He likes me to greet him when he comes home from work. But ‘greet’ means different things to different people. To him, it means ‘come and meet me at the front door, give me a hug and kiss like you missed me.’ I’d prefer to greet him on my knees, mouth open, ready for him to tell me “I’ve had a really hard day at work” before proceeding to brutally fuck my face.
Sex once a week: We only fuck on Sundays
We love each other. We fancy each other. We live together. I think about his cock almost constantly, and I’m betting he does too. We are inside each other’s heads all the time, and in bed together every night. We touch on the sofas while Netflix is on, and we steal kisses on the tube on our nights out to go and meet friends. And we only ever really fuck on Sundays.
After the report that many Brits only have sex once a week, I considered writing a blog post about why ‘number of times you did it’ is a shit way to measure how happy people’s sex lives are, and how annoying it is that these studies usually only include a very narrow set of acts in their definition of what ‘sex’ is. But that didn’t seem as fun as what I’m about to do, which is write some erotic fiction about a couple who only fucks on Sundays.