This gorgeous piece of thunderstorm erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard. 

The downpour hit hard and fast. So hard, in fact, that just the sound of the heavens opening and the deluge smashing against the concrete slabs outside made us both jump! The day started off with a low, cold, harsh sun, the kind that forces you to squint as a bitter wind pinches at your face. The kind of weather that stops customers from heading to your pub, no matter if the heating was on full and the beer was good…

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Continuing the series of erotic fiction set on tube trains (I heart TfL), here’s some aching, surreptitious fucking on the Victoria Line. Note that this story is fiction. Don’t do it in real life. 

The carriage is already rammed by the time we get on – him, me, a few friends. All of us slightly tipsy from the gig, but eager to continue the night back home in Walthamstow. Home, where the booze has been pre-bought from Tesco and we don’t have to queue behind Gen Z amateurs at the bar. The train is packed by the time we get on but we squeeze down to the end of the carriage anyway. When someone gets up to push past us, in deference to his ever-present backache I offer my boyfriend the seat. Then, because my feet are hurting and I’m a little bit pissed, I sit on his lap.

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This stunning kinky edging erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard. 

Sharp ropes bite into my wrists with every involuntary squirm of my body. The stiff back of the chair that my hands are tied behind pushes my straining biceps. Every muscle in my body is taut. Aflame with the constant pressure of being kept on the edge of coming.

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It’s fucking outrageous that I, a massive London Transport fangirl, have never written up one of my favourite wank fantasies about getting gang banged on the tube. During a recent exchange with Patreons I casually mentioned the idea of having my wrists tied to opposite hand rails in one of the carriages while I got tag-teamed by rugby players, and one of them suggested I write it up. Who am I to refuse the request of someone who kindly supports my work with money? HINT HINT – if you join Patreon you can be among the first to hear this story as audio porn. So – with a switch from it being an actual team to a group of supporters (I’ve done ‘fucked by a team‘ before and I like to keep things as fresh as possible even though my kinks are relentlessly samey where gang bangs are concerned), and football rather than rugby (feel free to guess in the comments why this might be) here goes. As with a lot of my other wank fantasies, this one is pretty aggressive and leans heavily on my kink for misogyny. It is a ‘live in’ fantasy – one I want to live inside my head, not one I want to ‘live out’ in real life, and it is definitely not how I would ever want anyone in real life to behave. It contains degradation, humiliation, pain/slapping, barely lubed anal, people standing on tube carriage seats while wearing trainers, and elements of non-consent. If that’s not your cup of tea, go browse the other filth instead. Got it? OK sweet. Let’s go get gang banged on the tube!

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This gorgeous erotic fiction about a tryst in the changing rooms is written and read by Euphemise This, and originally appeared on her website.

Michaela fucking hated clothes shopping, with a passionate hatred usually only reserved for Tories, but she resigned herself to the fact that she couldn’t put it off any longer. The event was in two days and it could potentially provide her with a massive career boost as long as she made a good impression with the right people. She was initially reluctant to admit it, but the entire contents of her wardrobe were completely unsuitable for this task.

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