There’s an amazing community of sex bloggers who write delicious smut, post gorgeous pictures, and generally keep the world of hotness turning, and until now I’ve been rubbish at joining in with all the fun weekly memes and story competitions that they run. So my resolution for this month (and next as well if I can keep it up) is to Join In with at least one thing each week – Sinful Sunday, Wicked Wednesday, and others too.

To start I thought I’d have a bash at writing some fiction. The awesome @sexblogofsorts, who I have a huge writers’ crush on because she writes so beautifully, is running a short story competition. The deal is she gives you the name of a lipstick, and you use that as the title for your story. Unfortunately, I’ve not written much fiction before, so I’m a bit ham-fisted with it, and my fiction stories always tend toward the ‘teenage goth’ genre. I was going to try and avoid teenage goth, but then @sexblogofsorts gave me my title, and it was “Sin” so…

The following story is possibly blasphemous, so if you’re super-religious you might not enjoy it. It’s also a dirty sex story, obviously, so best not to read it on the bus.

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I met this week’s guest blogger – F. Leonora Solomon – at Eroticon this year, and she’s amazing. Leonora’s an editor and writer who lives in New York City, and she’s published and featured in several anthologies – please do check them out via the links in the piece and on her website. I got the chance to chat with her in between the Eroticon sessions, and when she suggested a guest post about this particular topic I practically squealed with glee. It’s one of those kinks that also makes me go a bit giddy and trembly. Today she’s going to tell you about her suit fetish… 

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Sometimes, like many humans, I have fantasies that are grotesque and dark and weird. And sometimes I have days where I can think of nothing else to write, so with a sense of weary resignation and vague self-disgust, I tell you one of the odder ones. This disgusting fantasy is a not-quite-non-consent story that, I think, is an escalation of the fantasy dinner party. So if you like this kind of thing but the below gives you shudders, you might prefer that story instead.

For the record, it would horrify me if it happened in real life: that’s kind of the point of it. But as a film I play in my mind when I’m masturbating, something about the atmosphere and the attitude makes my cunt twitch.

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On an average day, I can be turned on by a whole bunch of things. Hot people on the train, dudes who got caught in a rain shower, watching computer programmers… But when I’m on my period, or just coming off it, the list of things that give me that ‘unngh’ feeling – the kick in the gut of lust that I bang on about so much in my book – expands to include a hell of a lot more. Let’s talk period horn…

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It’s pretty rare that someone shares an exact fantasy of mine, right down to every sticky detail. I think the same is true for most of us, which is why those ‘top fantasies’ surveys are usually far too broad to be useful on an individual basis. X per cent of men fantasise about having a threesome – big deal. Who is the threesome with? What happens during it? What’s the atmosphere like? Is the main participant a passive receptacle for the sexual whims of the other two, or are they an active and eager consumer, sampling whatever deviant delights they are offered? Is this threesome in a specific place, or are specific words said? When you get down to the granular detail of a fantasy, it’s incredibly rare to find someone who shares something identical, in every possible respect.

So, when I tell you that I once explained this fantasy to someone, and watched their eyes light up with gleeful enthusiasm, as they told me they had exactly the same desire, I hope you can understand just how rare that was. And how utterly soaked I was by the time they’d finished explaining exactly why they liked it too.

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