Bear with me, I’m rusty as fuck. Something I could have said equally to him as to you. It’s been a long long time since I wrote up a fuckstory that was about anyone other than my ex. So bear with me, please, I know I will not get this right.

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This guest blog is getting a very short and sweet introduction, namely I’m going to tell you two things. Firstly that it’s written by an excellent friend of mine who thought too little of her writing skills when she sent it to me, so I am publishing it here to show her she is good and cool and filthy in all the best ways. Secondly that this impulse fuck is exactly what the fuck I want right now. Sadly life may not deliver the reality of it, but it can certainly deliver the fantasy. Take it away, mate…

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This post was initially written with a particular guy in mind. He doesn’t read the blog, but he may at some point want an idea of how I like to get fucked, so I thought it might be hot to write him a story that I can give to him at some point. But then I ended up writing pure porn and I realised it was way too intimidating for that kind of discussion. It definitely does work for a blog post, though, because it’s filth. So here goes: what I like in bed.

We’ve banged a few times now – just enough to get to know each other a little, but not so much that I’ve exposed all the detail of the ways in which I really want you to fuck me. You see, although I know that communication is good, I also worry that if I go all-in with my comms before we’ve even fucked once, the pressure to tick everything off the list might make you feel like you’re wrangling to get the top score on Mario Kart. So I haven’t really told you this yet, I’ve just enjoyed the simple, casual fucks: the noises you make and the way you touch me and the sensation of your dick sliding in. But we’ve done it three times now, so here the fuck goes: here’s what I like in bed.

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There are tonnes of things to mourn at the end of a relationship. Not least, in my case, a really awesome holiday I had planned for April this year. Lockdown put paid to that, but the ferry tickets still exist, and the rescheduled dates sit in my diary taunting me: a cycling trip with fondue and fucking and fun which will now likely never come to pass. There are infinite possible worlds in which we didn’t break up, or in which we broke up in far less painful ways, where some of this stuff might have occurred. But in this world, the one that exists for me, here are a few fucks that will never happen.

Note: the third story in this trilogy involves sex-while-asleep. It’s pre-negotiated and fully consensual, but I know some people aren’t into that, so this is just here to let you skip over it if you’d like to. 

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Dunno about you but here at GOTN HQ it’s been a pretty sweaty week. I have stuck to every chair I’ve sat on, and broken my personal record of ‘number of cold showers in a day.’ At the time of writing, it still has not rained. Please enjoy this perspiration-focused erotica about some seriously sweaty fucking, written because I am desperate to turn this cloyingly-icky-humidity-sweat into lovely, wholesome fucksweat. 

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