Recently I have been trying to get to grips with the idea of sending my partner off to go and fuck other women while I wait alone at home, ideally wanking and finding the whole thing very sexy, at the very least feeling happy that he’s happy: a brief flash of compersion. It is not easy, but one of the ways I am trying to become acquainted with it is to write erotic stories about it. Here’s one of them.  (more…)

What’s that old joke? That if you sit on one of your hands until it goes numb, when you wank it feels like someone else is doing it. I’ve never tried that, but recently I discovered some pretty excellent sensations while synchronising sex to porn, which I’m going to call the Rubber Hand Illusion Of Fucking.

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I want you to come in my cunt. I want to feel the twitches of your dick and the rush of liquid pouring out of it. And I really can feel it, you know. Hard. Especially when you’ve got a raging erection and plenty of spunk to give, the release as you pump it deep inside me is the most delicious feeling. I want you to come in my cunt. I want it so much that sometimes I’ll fake orgasms to make it happen.

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Intimidation is hard to distinguish from excitement, especially when the two so often come hand in hand. That look you shoot me which says ‘you’re in trouble’ can sometimes make the blood drain from my face, tricking me into thinking I’m afraid, before the flood converges in my beating crotch, reminding me that this only happens because I really really want it to.

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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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