Tag Archives: illustrated
Hate fuck: I hate you and I want to see your come face
This erotic fiction is the next in the emotional fucks series and OH MY GOD did I enjoy writing it. Previous fucks have included the pity fuck, spite fuck and rebound fuck – today we’re embarking on a hate fuck.
Don’t fall in love: a warning
Are you on the verge of falling in love? Is there someone you look at who makes you feel dizzy, like you’ve suddenly taken a deep lungful of air at the top of a mountain and you have to look around for a bench or a rock to sit down on in case you topple off? Yeah, don’t fall in love with them. Run the fuck away.
I’ve had a hard day / Fuck my face
He likes me to greet him when he comes home from work. But ‘greet’ means different things to different people. To him, it means ‘come and meet me at the front door, give me a hug and kiss like you missed me.’ I’d prefer to greet him on my knees, mouth open, ready for him to tell me “I’ve had a really hard day at work” before proceeding to brutally fuck my face.
Sex once a week: We only fuck on Sundays
We love each other. We fancy each other. We live together. I think about his cock almost constantly, and I’m betting he does too. We are inside each other’s heads all the time, and in bed together every night. We touch on the sofas while Netflix is on, and we steal kisses on the tube on our nights out to go and meet friends. And we only ever really fuck on Sundays.
After the report that many Brits only have sex once a week, I considered writing a blog post about why ‘number of times you did it’ is a shit way to measure how happy people’s sex lives are, and how annoying it is that these studies usually only include a very narrow set of acts in their definition of what ‘sex’ is. But that didn’t seem as fun as what I’m about to do, which is write some erotic fiction about a couple who only fucks on Sundays.
Relationship maintenance: I won’t buy presents for your family
Relationship maintenance is an important skill, and I don’t want you to assume it’s ‘my’ job, just because you’ve seen other women doing it for their partners. So no, I won’t remember that you have to get up earlier than usual next Thursday for a meeting. I won’t book you in for a haircut, or ring your Mum every Sunday to let her know how you’re getting on. And I will not buy birthday presents for your family, wrap them carefully then sign your name on the accompanying card.