For a long time I’ve had a discomfort with the way that sex is often carved out and set aside from the rest of any given story. Whether it’s people complaining about how ‘unnecessary’ sex scenes are in movies, or books which get dismissed as trashy just because the characters have the temerity to fuck, I find the way sex is treated in media both frustrating and fascinating. I’d never really been able to articulate the root of this discomfort, but when LJ Amber got in touch with this week’s guest blog, I suddenly got it. They argue the case for sex in stories with such power and clarity – I am so grateful to them for sharing their perspective, and I agree so wholeheartedly with their point. LJ Amber’s debut novel – Song of the Wild Knight – is coming out next week (29th Feb), so please do check that out and share this post if you agree. Here’s to sex in stories, and the beautiful stories we tell through sex.

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It’s fucking outrageous that I, a massive London Transport fangirl, have never written up one of my favourite wank fantasies about getting gang banged on the tube. During a recent exchange with Patreons I casually mentioned the idea of having my wrists tied to opposite hand rails in one of the carriages while I got tag-teamed by rugby players, and one of them suggested I write it up. Who am I to refuse the request of someone who kindly supports my work with money? HINT HINT – if you join Patreon you can be among the first to hear this story as audio porn. So – with a switch from it being an actual team to a group of supporters (I’ve done ‘fucked by a team‘ before and I like to keep things as fresh as possible even though my kinks are relentlessly samey where gang bangs are concerned), and football rather than rugby (feel free to guess in the comments why this might be) here goes. As with a lot of my other wank fantasies, this one is pretty aggressive and leans heavily on my kink for misogyny. It is a ‘live in’ fantasy – one I want to live inside my head, not one I want to ‘live out’ in real life, and it is definitely not how I would ever want anyone in real life to behave. It contains degradation, humiliation, pain/slapping, barely lubed anal, people standing on tube carriage seats while wearing trainers, and elements of non-consent. If that’s not your cup of tea, go browse the other filth instead. Got it? OK sweet. Let’s go get gang banged on the tube!

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This gorgeous erotic fiction about a tryst in the changing rooms is written and read by Euphemise This, and originally appeared on her website.

Michaela fucking hated clothes shopping, with a passionate hatred usually only reserved for Tories, but she resigned herself to the fact that she couldn’t put it off any longer. The event was in two days and it could potentially provide her with a massive career boost as long as she made a good impression with the right people. She was initially reluctant to admit it, but the entire contents of her wardrobe were completely unsuitable for this task.

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I found today’s guest blog so moving and intense that it’s quite hard to write an introduction. When Aborigen (@[email protected] on Masto) got in touch to offer a post about macrophilia/size fantasy, and plug his podcast zHeitgeist, I was excited to read about a kink I don’t share and hoping I could gain an insight into the way that facesitting is of particular appeal to macrophiles who want to feel small, vulnerable, crushed. I wasn’t quite expecting him to make such a beautiful case for acceptance and understanding of all consensual kinks. On top of this, he gives a truly exquisite example of why being vulnerable with your lovers, and accepting their vulnerabilities too, can be powerfully rewarding. I want to go back in time and share this with my past self, and any number of past lovers too. It’s longer than guest blogs usually are, so grab a cuppa before you dive in. It’s worth it.

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This gorgeous erotic story about tussling to be the top is written and read by Lou Kane and originally appeared on his website. 

Danny pulled themself into consciousness with a reluctance softened only by the warm, familiar body beside them. Dreaming had left them hungry and hard amidst soft pillows and blankets and even softer company. They curled against Max’s back, planting soft kisses along sharp shoulder blades as they experimentally thrusted against his ass.

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