At one point, mid-fuck, with his wet fingers circling my clit, the man who knows how to fuck me growls something into my ear. I can’t remember the exact words and I hate myself for that, not least because I’m sure if I could conjure them precisely, that particular sentence would make for some truly epic wanks. Forgive me for paraphrasing, I’d fallen deeply into a fuckdrunk haze, but it was something like ‘aren’t you a dirty fucking girl?’, with extra resonance on the ‘girl’, just how I like it. Whatever he said and however he said it, it caused me to absolutely gush all over his hand. Yeah I’m a dirty girl: QED.

(more…)

This stunning threesome erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard and it picks up the story from part 1 (exhibitionism at the hotel). Check that out first before returning here to dive back in… 

My mind is foggy. My eyes are bleary. My mouth feels like it is full of cotton wool. I can feel the warmth of your body to one side of me. I can just hear the shallow breath of you sleeping. I can feel the tell tale signs of a disheveled bed around me and the pliable but firm casing of your vibrator under my pillow. My body hair is stiff and matted with the previous evening’s sweat and come, and the sweet scent of hard sex lingers in the air. The hotel is full of noises. Maids cleaning rooms. Couples collecting their thrown clothes from the floor and furniture. People going about their regular lives in the street so many floors below. The shower in our en-suite running… I get halfway through thinking “…who the fuck is in our shower?” when the events of the past few hours flood my memory like a vivid dream.

(more…)