This stunningly hot Christmas story about an MMF threesome (Santa, pls note, I want one of these in my stocking – GOTN) is written and read by the fabulous Sherryl Blu.

Christmas in the corporate world was always a pretty standard affair. As the executive assistant for the office, in the weeks leading up there would be a steady stream of edible goodies plonked on the desk in front of me. It always attracted a crowd of employees throughout the day. It would be boxes of quality street, Heroes, Roses and… mince pies. There was always mince pies, lots of them because most people didn’t seem to like them. Then there was the not-obligatory-but-if-you-didnt-go-you-would-get-frowned-upon work Christmas lunch and of course the piece de resistance…the Christmas party. It was pretty much the event of the year – highly publicised and often talked about for months afterward.

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For as long as I’ve known that some men are into feet, I have wanted one to come all over mine. Masturbate while looking at them then squirt jizz out – covering my skin and dribbling in between my toes. I don’t think I have a foot fetish myself, but I do get off on fulfilling other people’s desires, especially if they sit outside of what the world thinks an average fuck might look like. So the mental image of a guy kneeling over me to cover my feet in cum has been one that, now stuck in my head, has resolutely refused to disappear.

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I did my hair nicely today. I wanted you to love the way it looks so much you’d grab a fistful and yank my head in for a biting kiss. I feel pretty today, I made myself pretty today. And I only did it because I want you to fuck me up.

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This glorious story about being used as a set of fuck-holes is written and read by the fabulous Sundial, and originally appeared on her website. 

And here I am, a nearly naked shackled X bent at the middle. The lower part of the X is formed by my gorgeous new spreader bar. My ankles are wrapped in the supple leather that are its cuffs, unable to move. My torso is laid face down on the table. My arms are stretched out, tits squashed under me. My wrists are secured in leather shackles which you (rather ingeniously) attached with belts to the legs at the far end of table, forming the upper part of the X. There is no give at all, I cannot move.

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This red-hot dogging erotica is written and read by Molly, of Molly’s Daily Kiss, and originally appeared on her website. 

“What about you Gina? Fancy a bit of late night dogging?”

Gina felt the heat of embarrassment flush at her cheeks as the lads continued their banter between themselves.

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