For ages I’ve had it on my guest blog page that I’d love to read guest blogs that contain “eloquent disagreement/rebuttal of any of my own strong and angry opinions” but people rarely ever take me up on it. Maybe they think I will bite, which is unfair because honestly I usually prefer to be the one who gets bitten. BUT NOW I HAVE ONE! Rebuttal! Disagreement! And the hottest kind of disagreement, too! Imagine me rubbing my hands together with absolute glee today, because the fabulous @OxyFromSG (of ‘I sucked my own cock‘ fame, who also writes fabulous erotica as Alec Lake) is here with a guest post in defence of 69ing. The horny position in which two people are top-and-tail and going to town on each other’s genitals is also very often at the top of people’s lists of ‘overrated sex acts’, mine included. So I’m absolutely delighted (and thoroughly aroused) to have the chance to read his defence of the humble (or not-so-humble) 69….

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This hot bukkake/gang bang fantasy featuring five dicks is written and read by the fabulous Sherryl Blu. 

Is it wrong to masturbate to thoughts of having five dicks on the go at one time? Does it make me abnormal to want to taste the sweetness of one in my mouth, feel one in each hand, have my pussy pounded by another all whilst being slowly penetrated in my ass by a fifth? And then, to finish up being covered in copious amounts of cum, courtesy of all five cocks?

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You know the drill by now: parts one and two had our free use secretary interviewed (and used) then working (and used). Part three is all about showing her off. In this section, she’s not just an executive office toy for her horny and demanding boss – in this part there are clients to impress. Note that this story contains some pretty aggressive misogyny (I have a kink for misogyny! Read that piece if you want to understand a bit more about the stories in this wank tales series), along with choking, free use, groping, casual sexual harassment, spitroasting, dodgy societal tropes about cock size and masculinity, unlubed (or barely lubed) anal and very dubious consent. It is not in any way a recommendation on how to treat people in real life, and should only ever be enjoyed in a safe and consensual playspace, such as inside your head. I am including the most specific and detailed content notes that I possibly can here, so hopefully absolutely no one who reads on will be taken by surprise by what transpires in this scene. As I say: consent in sex writing matters. What’s more, please understand: in real life I’d despise these men, and utterly abhor their behaviour. These fuckpuppets are characters I created – they only exist in my head and on this page. If you choose to invite them into your own head too, I’m going to assume you’re doing that on the full understanding that this is fantasy, not a recipe for real life.

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This glorious rimming story is written by David of The Big Gay Review, and originally appeared on his website. It is read aloud here by Luke.

I finish drying myself after the bath, slip on a pair of briefs and head upstairs to the bedroom. As I enter, he’s fresh out of the shower himself. He lies across the bed, his skin still glistening with water droplets; and the room is filled with the sweet, musky scent of his shower gel.

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[Ages ago I did a tweet that included a silly joke about wanting to bundle men up in a blanket and give them a hand job and a stern talking-to. Someone messaged me to say there might be some smut in that, so I had a go at writing some. I don’t know how good it is, just that I had fun writing it. It hinges on eroticisation of sexual shame (specifically masturbation shame), so please note I don’t actually think it is shameful to masturbate, obviously: wanking is one of my favourite hobbies. But shame is fun to kink, so that’s what I’m doing here.]

You promised you wouldn’t come while you were away. I was looking forward to all the spunk built up during my seven day absence – that thick, powerful brand of cum that thuds from your dick after a long period of denial and frustration. You promised me you wouldn’t come. And yet the second my flight had landed, I received a text from you letting me know that you failed.

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