Regular readers will know how much I love a good ‘first time’, in fact I have a tag right here on the blog for it: check out the kickass variety of first times people have shared, from first threesomes to first prostate orgasms and first time visiting a strip club, I adore hearing about those moments of sexy discovery. And if they come with detailed orgasmic descriptions, even better. So imagine how over the moon I was to hear from this week’s guest blogger, Star, who offered to share a pretty fucking special first time of her own: her very first orgasm with a neovulva! Take it away Star…

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This incredible story about going to their first sex party is written and read by Robyn of Robyn Eats Everything. It originally appeared on their website. 

“Are you here all by yourself? Well, you soon won’t be.” My first erotic story, written when I was 19 or 20, was about a woman who goes to a sex party for the first time, by herself, to live her greatest fantasies. And here I am, going to a sex party for the first time, by myself, to live my own…

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Next in the wank-tales series, in which I tell you some of the fantasies that I masturbate over (and which are precious to me, please don’t kinkshame), I’m gonna take you forward to an unspecified point in the future when most of humanity has been wiped out and the remnants are trapped in huge communal bunkers. This piece includes some dubious consent (potentially non-consent, but I’ve tried to write a few consent cues into the text so it’s less brutal than it is in my head). As explained before, I have a kink for misogyny, and fantasies about being used fit the bill for that kink pretty well. As per previous stories like free use secretary, this is not a how-to manual for life, it is only fun in fantasy and role play. Features some BDSM/beating, aggression and coercion too. Here’s a story about being on post-apocalypse relief duty.

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This fabulous erotic fiction piece about romantic outdoor sex is written by Spencer Pritchard, and read aloud by Luke. 

Your train pulls up to the platform and those butterflies in your stomach, subdued by the inevitable delays, suddenly leap back in to life and begin their merry dance again. Will I be on the platform, waiting with a crass sign in hand, your pseudonym bold black tarnishing the virginity of the white card it’s printed on? Will I be sat outside in a hire car, listening to the radio and only notice you stood there after 5 long minutes? Will I have got tired of waiting for the late train to arrive and headed to the small lochside bungalow alone, leaving you to make your own way, each one of the thousands of butterflies slowly dying as the seconds pass on the long journey?

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It’s pitch black in my bedroom. Weirdly, so much darker than it usually is. Perhaps a streetlight is out, or maybe I’ve finally managed the perfect seal on my blackout curtains, so not a sliver of London night sneaks through. Either way, it’s dark. He’s lying naked next to me, big hands sliding smoothly down my body, soft lips on mine, cock growing hard in my hand. And although I’m going to try and tell you parts of this story in the sexy/atmospheric way in which I’ve begun this post, you’ll have to excuse me if the odd burst of glee breaks through, because on this special night I managed something truly remarkable for me: I gave a guy a hand job to orgasm!

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