This gorgeous Zoom orgasm story is written and read by The Barefoot Sub, and originally appeared on her website.

An unanswered email flashed up with a “follow up?” prompt. Hanging my head in shame I clicked “dismiss”. The email request seemed simple enough in theory, but the fact remained that I didn’t have permission to ask for a meet. Not only were the lockdown restrictions firmly in place nationwide, but in the summer Sir had agreed to me having a play date, and I had failed to follow through with my promise of sexy shenanigans when the chemistry had been missing and I’d changed my mind. Now I was to wait. Wait to be instructed to find someone to fuck me.

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I can’t tease you any longer, my friends. It was cruel of me to do so in the first place. The fun little trilogy that started with a dating challenge and moved on to me and a hot guy swapping sex stories is just that: a trilogy. It’s not the first chapter in a brand new erotic romance. Fuck it, though, he and I had a lot of fun, and personally I find it fitting (and deeply satisfying for my overall philosophy) that the guy who restored my faith in dating didn’t do so by being the perfect match, but by embarking on our dates with genuine emotional honesty. When I set out on the initial challenge (‘ask out the hot man who works in my shop’) it wasn’t about whether he said ‘yes’, only about whether I was brave enough to ask him in the first place. Likewise, the success of our dates didn’t come down to whether we kicked off a serious relationship, but whether we met as equals with a genuine desire to find out if we matched. The fact that we don’t match is no more than a footnote. The headline is that we found that answer swiftly, respectfully, and while having a fair bit of fun. Shop Man Part 3. Let’s do this.

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I spotted that this week’s Kink of the Week topic was ‘hunting/chasing prey’ and realised with utter delight that I had a half-finished draft which I could polish off for it. So here goes: a fuck in which I get to revel in the idea of being ravished by a predator. Note that this story contains a tiny bit of implied non-consent (but it is consensual) and also some barely-lubed anal (which I’d recommend against in real life, even though it’s hot in fantasies because in fantasies you can pretend that spit would totally work). 

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OK listen. As a blogger who relies on social media to do important work (keeping up with Sex News, responding to journo requests, promoting blogs and audio porn, and shamelessly bragging whenever I get railed by a hot guy), I cannot fully disappear from Twitter until someone turns out the lights. While people who matter remain on the platform, I’ll still have to maintain a presence there – scheduling posts to go out so that people in different time zones get the chance to beat one out to them too. But let’s face it, it’s run by a fascist toddler and is now so choked up with spam that it’s borderline unusable. Plus, as a sex blogger, I have now been so shadowbanned that even the grown-ups who follow me are unlikely to see my extremely high-quality tweets. I need a new social media home, otherwise where else will I post my scorching hot takes? So I’m calling this for now: fuck BlueSky, fuck Threads, you can find me on Mastodon. Here’s why.

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This is part 2 of Isabelle Lauren‘s Wicked Fantasy story – Mommy’s turn – and it originally appeared on her website. Catch up on Part 1 – fulfilling my Mommy role play fantasies – here, and note that the following piece features age play, and uses the term ‘Mommy’ as an honorific. Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about that magical night, the one in which I was able to play out my fantasy of being a sexy mom. Couldn’t get her out of my mind – my daughter-for-the-night. It was a sinful fantasy, of course, and I had told myself that I’d only fuck her once, just to get this out of my mind. But instead of fading, my arousal had intensified. I wanted to play with her again.

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