This intensely hot story about a cheating slut is written by Obvious Library and read by me, Girl on the Net. Note that this story features eroticisation of cheating (which will probably appeal to those of you who enjoy cuckolding!) and fetishisation of large dicks. 

To look at me, you wouldn’t know I am a cheating slut. On the school run I seem a perfectly respectable mum, just like all the other mums. Happily married, having unfulfilling duty sex with my husband once a month. Looking at all the other parents at school drop off, I imagine that is their lives too – boring and unexciting. But I have a secret; for the last two years I’ve been cheating on my husband. It’s not an emotional affair with another person, I’m cheating with many, many men and it’s purely for the sex. Filthy, dirty sex. As many men as I can get my hands on. I’ve lost count how many I’ve fucked, but it’s easily over one hundred. And I’ll try anything, I’ve been tied up, spat on, pissed on, fucked in the ass. Sometimes I fuck in hotels or houses, but often it’s in cars or in the woods or public toilets.

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This erotic story about fucking the boss is written by Scorpio Appetites, and read by Girl on the Net. Note this story contains brief use of ‘daddy’ as an honorific.

‘Hey, who’ve I gotta fuck to get another beer over here?’ I smile sweetly at the customer and put another Stella on the counter. I’m wearing a checked shirt tied low enough to show a flash of black bra and as much cleavage as I can muster, and I enjoy feeling his drunken gaze rake over me. I drink his impotent desire like a shot of cheap whiskey. The two feet of bar between us may as well be a trillion miles.

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This gleefully filthy erotic fiction is written by Kate, and originally appeared on her website. It is read here by Girl on the Net. 

There’s four of us at the breakfast table – the father, the son, the mother and me. Well, I say four, it’s three – the father, the son and me – the mother is making breakfast like a dutiful housewife and the son gets packed off to school sharpish, leaving the father and the mother and me. His and hers dressing gowns. She balked at my ill-fitting t shirt from some summer festival in ’75. I was a child, then. She didn’t know me, then. Whoever bought this t shirt bought it for a boyfriend or lover who turned out rotten so to the thrift shop it went and I scooped it up and sleep in it, after a boil wash.

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How do you define ‘cheating‘? As a general rule, I wouldn’t use the word ‘cheat’ for the consensual, deliciously hot scene our guest blogger describes today. But as you’ll see when you read his story, I liked his title – ‘I watched my girlfriend cheat’ – because it says a lot more about the way this intensely filthy story is framed in his head, and what it means to him beyond just being exhilarating. Please welcome Eric…

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Damn right we’re gonna talk about Fleabag. This post contains spoilers, so catch up on Fleabag on iPlayer if you’d like to see it before you read on. But unless you’ve been living under a rock, you probably already know that the audience of Fleabag is dripping lust into sofa cushions across the country, because we’re desperately willing her to fuck a priest.

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