It’s everything I hate in a sofa, this thing: brown; leather; thin metal legs; angular armrests that you can’t properly lean against and a seat that’s too narrow for spooning. I hate this sofa so much that when my ex and I hung out together, I used to sit on the floor. Give me well-worn carpet and a numb bum over sticky brown leather any day of the week. I hate this sofa for every single thing… except fucking. This sofa features in almost every filthy post I’ve written on this blog in the last four years. This sofa launched a thousand fucks.

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It’s chilly, and we’re outside. Leaning in to each other for warmth, but delighting in the cold as well. My shirt is unbuttoned slightly and pulled down below my shoulder to expose one of my tits. He licks the tip of his finger slowly and runs it around the nipple. Wet spit meets cold air and hard nipples, and I shiver with longing.

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It’s Masturbation Month! Those of you who don’t work in the sex industry might not be familiar with it, although I’d wager if you’ve bought a sex toy at any point over the last 12 months you’ll have been reminded of this auspicious time with a well-placed marketing email or two. While I’d love to write a round-up of sex toys that you should buy, it’s always more fun for me to write hot stuff that features toys than a plain old shopping list. So instead of a shopping list, here are twelve filthy stories: each one either a true sex story or a piece of erotic fiction. If you can guess which of these are true, and leave your guesses in the comments, whoever gets closest to the right answer will win a GOTN badge. And if you fancy reliving these stories (or coming up with some of your own!) I’d very much appreciate you clicking the links, buying from my sponsors, and helping to support my work here on the site. Without these fabulous sponsor companies, GOTN wouldn’t exist.

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So many of you will know that delicious, aching joy of wanting to shag someone but having nowhere to do it. Surreptitious touches in pubs and parks which just wind you up even more when you realise there’s nowhere to hide while you vent your frustrations on each other. This week’s guest blog, by Fajolan (who has written before about similarly delicious handsy-horny frustration), is all about that kind of horniness, with the bonus of an innovative way to ‘go get a room’ when there are no rooms to go to.

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“I don’t really do phone sex,” I say to him, as I shuffle across the bedroom with my trousers partway down, reaching for a dildo and my Zumio. He replies “yeah, I know,” and in the background I can hear him beating away at his cock.

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