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.

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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 gorgeously impulsive fuck is written and read by Molly Moore.

“Quick!” she said as she took my hand and pulled me into the cubicle with her latching the door behind her and quick she was, a flurry of hands and bodies, her lips on mine as she pressed me up against the wall. Her tongue snaking into my mouth, her kisses urgent and demanding, her body pressing into mine, grinding up against me as if she just couldn’t get enough of me.

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You’ve met this guy before. Possibly the most casual man I’ve ever fucked. Chill. Direct. Horny. Extremely forgiving of the fact that I disappeared for eighteen months into monogamy. The kind of dude who’s happy to pop back when required to deliver great dick without drama. Breaking the seal, if you will. We’re catching up over email and I tell him I’m single now. That I may be emotionally battered but I’ve gained a wicked new story. I don’t outright say that I’d love to get fucked, but he picks up the hint regardless: “Would you like to tell me the wicked story over a pint, then have a ride on my dick?” Fuck yes.

CN: light kink, slapping.

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This gorgeous story about hot hotel sex with a stranger is written and read by Robyn of RobynEatsEverything. 

Remember when I went to that sex club: the one where I sat nude in a hot tub, as bait; the one where I let a group of strangers use my body for their own pleasure; the one where I came hard, sitting on the edge, as a guy sucked on my clit? That actually wasn’t the end of the story…

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