Six guys in t-shirts or shirts. Naked from the waist down. Me in a soft cotton top. No bra, no knickers, no trousers, no socks. We are the opposite of topless. And we’re perfectly dressed to play a game.

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Before I begin, allow me a minute to put off 50% of you: this is not erotic fiction about what to do on your wedding night. It’s not a post about a romantic fuck at the end of your special day, or how to arouse your partner on the wedding night even though you’ve been together five years and you’re bored of the sight of their bollocks by now. If that’s what you’re after, then please pick up your warm white wine and move on to another buffet: this wedding night fuck is dirty.

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Today I’m thinking about butter. Which is, I know, not the ideal lube. Especially if you’re vegan.

But today I’m thinking about butter for lube.

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I like the way a guy’s dick twitches when I push something into him – like a butt plug. I like to watch that twitch as the plug slips inside – that quick pulse of his cock that tells me it’s settled neatly into the right place.

His face twitches too. A flicker of pain/lust/need/satisfaction – one or all, delete as appropriate.

And that’s why I want him to get fucked in the ass while he fucks me.

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I think about it all the time: fucking strangers. My journeys into town, out of town, down to the shops to pick up milk: they’re all peppered with deeply personalised erotic fiction – flash-frame fucks starring people I pass on the way.

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