When I first read this story – an exquisite fantasy written by Jaimie of Jaimie’s Erotica – my first thought was ‘holy shit, I have seen videos like this and they made my cunt flood too!’. My second thought was ‘why do we not write more erotica with a heavy focus on precum?’. In this fabulous story, Jaimie and her girlfriend experiment with a little kinky DIY so they can live out their dreams of teasing a guy’s dick through a hole they’ve cut in a second-hand kitchen table. It’s exactly as hot as that sounds, with an additional stunning emphasis on how horny it is to get to play, taste and paint each other with eager little droplets of precum. Unngh. Check out Jaimie’s blog at the link above, read her previous guest blog The Chatelaine (a beautifully atmospheric Halloween-themed piece), follow her on Mastodon or BlueSky, and keep an ear out for some of her incredible work appearing on the audio porn project this year too!

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Today’s wonderful guest blogger was introduced to me by fellow sex blogger Sundial – one of the things that’s really cool about sex blogging is when you see other people going ‘ooh I could do that!’ and picking up the baton to write smut of their own. So I’m delighted to introduce D34U with a creative piece of erotic fiction all about good people getting just rewards: a turn at the glory hole, in recognition of their good work. If you enjoy this piece, click the link to follow D34U on Mastodon and check out some of his other work on Sundial’s blog too – a vampiric Halloween tale and a fantasy about a wife’s first threesome. In the meantime… have you been good? Like ‘human rights lawyer’ or ‘doctor without borders’ good? Then you might be eligible for a turn at the glory hole on the Phoenix Manor Volunteer Appreciation Day…

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This fabulous casual sex story about getting savagely fucked by a reply guy is written by Charlotte Bayes, read by Sherryl Blu. Note that it contains some consensual choking. 

I do not wish to be perceived as desperate, but after a catalogue of bad experiences both on and off The Apps, I really didn’t know what else to do but to debase myself on Twitter dot com. Asking for a date at the very least on the ‘hell site’ might be able to at least bring some more like-minded people together as opposed to random swipes and hours wasted talking to seemingly normal men. Or men who seem normal at first then turn out to use curtains instead of bedroom doors in their houseshare. They made it very clear I had to try something else.

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Is Liquid Silk the best lube on the market, or does it just happen to be popular with guys I’ve fucked? This question has played on my mind for a long time. Far longer than is reasonable, to be honest. When I was single in my twenties, I rarely paid much attention to brands, I’d just use the lube provided by whoever wanted to fuck me up the arse. Eventually, though, I started to notice a pattern. If ‘every single guy I fucked using the same lube’ could constitute a pattern. Is block colour a pattern? Whatever. My ex used Liquid Silk, and I assumed he just really liked it, but after he and I parted ways I went on to fuck some more guys and… yeah… they all used Liquid Silk too! So obviously that’s what I bought, because although I pretend to be feminist deep down I’m obsessed with impressing men. The type of men I most wanted to lick all tended to use it, so I assumed Liquid Silk must be the best lube around. But is it actually? Or have I just jumped on a bandwagon beside other lazy, sexy, wank-loving Londoners? Let’s find out.

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There are lots of things I enjoy about this time of year, but gifts aren’t one of them. I feel uncomfortable if people buy them for me (please don’t go to any trouble!) and I’m terrified of giving them. Although I occasionally have a flash of inspiration, or the time and ability to arrange a cool trip or activity, most of the time I end up panic-buying a present at the last minute that’s way over my tiny budget, because I didn’t have time to shop/think/make but I need this person to know that I care about them anyway. Even the cool things I do occasionally manage come with a hefty dollop of misery as I agonise over the fact that they will still fall woefully short. It never feels possible to buy a gift that is thoughtful enough, arrange an outing that’s fun enough, or write a poem in a card that’s meaningful enough to capture the weight of my love for this kickass person. But I tell you what I can do very well: gratitude.

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