If you’re familiar with the free use secretary stories that I wrote earlier this year, you’ll know what these erotic fiction pieces involve by now: a secretary who has ‘free use‘ (the ability for the boss to fuck her as and when he wants) written into her employment contract. So far in the series, my lovely free use secretary has been interviewed, fucked over a desk while her boss is on the phone to someone else, and then used as a fucktoy to impress visiting clients. In this instalment, she’s cornered in the stationery cupboard by two members of junior management, who decide they want a turn too. If you’d prefer to hear me read it into your headphones, support me on Patreon for access (but don’t worry if you can’t afford to – it’ll go up for free here eventually anyway). Note that as with all the stories in the wank tales series, they’re fantasy, not a way to behave in real life. I enjoy these scenarios in my head, because I have a kink for misogyny. But this one – like the others – involves implied non-consent/coercion, brutality, misogyny, and women being used like we’re merely holes: a fun space to play in theory, but never a way to treat people in the real world.

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If I’m shagging you and I’m going on top, there are broadly four things you can do with your dick if you’d like to – for want of a better word – ‘join in.’ Obviously the peripheral things are infinite and always up for grabs: touching my tits, making sexy moaning noises, calling me a good girl, kissing me, yelling my name at the ceiling like you’re trying to put cracks in the plaster, etc. But when it comes to the actual fuck, there are four things you can do. Three of them are brilliant, one of them sucks, and I don’t know how to tell men I’m fucking not to try and do it.

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One of the things I miss about having a regular partner – notably a live-in one, who hangs around the house, teasing me sluttily by existing in possession of a dick – are those moments of casual horn that come when you’re in close quarters. The fact that another person in my space will necessarily be sexual sometimes, and either by design or pure, gold-plated luck they’re sometimes sexual with (or at) me.  I miss silly, everyday, random bursts of horn.

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Note: this wank tale involves the fetishisation/kinkification of something that I know can be distressing to some people (erectile ‘dysfunction’/delayed (or premature) ejaculation). Know that in real life there is still plenty of fun to be had if you can’t get an erection and coming ‘too soon’ is INCREDIBLY HOT in its own right. However, sometimes things that are distressing can also be hot to kink, and this fantasy about having a horny cuck guy hold my hand while I get fucked by someone else just so happens to lean on that idea. 

You can’t fuck me, that’s the foundation of this. Frame ‘can’t’ however you like, but fundamentally it must be based on something you see as a failing, and my subsequent refusal to let you enter my cunt only serves to enhance your shame at not being good enough. You’re unable to fuck me because you can’t get your dick hard, for instance. Or you’re too prone to coming too quickly or not at all. Perhaps your dick isn’t adequate for what I want: you can’t fuck me intensely enough or fast enough or (better) with the firm, slow strokes that leave every atom of my cunt feeling stretched out and rubbed raw.

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This fabulous sleep sex story is written and read by Carolyna Luna, and originally appeared on her website. Note that this story contains elements of dormophilia – initiating or engaging in sex while asleep. It’s consensual, and you should not engage in this kind of sex unless you’ve done the important groundwork of discussing it – in detail – with your partner.

“Lourdes? Are you up?”

I was, but I didn’t stir. Sleep next to the same man for long enough and you come to crave the luxury of being roused by his greedy cock in the middle of the night. You also learn his triggers. Dark clouds had assembled to blanket our bedroom in an inky dew. And the cover of a pitch-black night tended to bring out the mischief in Miguel. He was in the mood for one of those games we play.

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