This gorgeous quickie erotica is written by Cara Thereon, read here by Girl on the Net. 

“Bit hot tonight, aren’t ya?”

She ignored his talking and pressed his back against the door so she could get to work on his clothes. He’d come straight from work, clad in a suit and smelling of sandalwood and coffee. The quickness of his reply to her text said he was just as interested, but all he’d done since she’d pull him into her apartment was talk.

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The other night, I missed the moment he came. It wasn’t the end of the world, naturally – I miss plenty of his orgasms, because most of them happen when he’s alone. The spaff goes unobserved, as he beats it into a tissue or one of the wank rags I bought for ecological reasons (and also pervy reasons – we’ll get to this in a second). But on this particular occasion, I was a bit sad about missing his cum shot. So he invented a new game for me to play: CSI: Wank.

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This orgasm denial erotica, by sex blogger Molly Moore, originally appeared on her site. It is read aloud here by Leo Di Luca. 

Please, please….

Her begging is so pretty but it takes time to really get her to that place where it is consuming her. At first her words are almost just that, words, tripping off her tongue in an all too casual manner. There is no guts to them, yet. That will only come when she is finally teetering on the brink of collapse.

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Can I interest anyone in a story about a guy getting his dick milked in a cold, clinical manner by person or persons unknown? That’s what this post is about. I hope you enjoy it as much as I vigorously masturbated over it. I’m kind of obsessed with the idea of people getting their dicks milked at the moment, mostly thanks to a particular twitter account I follow which consists of amazing videos of exactly that. Scroll to the bottom for the link to it, and be warned that just like this post, it’s NSFW. 

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This post, by sex blogger and podcaster Sherryl Blu, originally appeared on her website.

We met in a club, it was a pretty standard night out

I was just happy to fling on my glad rags and shake off the stresses of the week.

I didn’t expect to meet you, but I wasn’t sad that I did…

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