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The lights are dimmed. There is some incense burning, and the room is warm. I am encouraged to take my clothes off. The laptop shines on the floor, emitting a sound that is eastern, a slow drum beat with an occasional moan. No pan pipes. He asks for a scarf to cover me with, I hand him a Hammam towel, which he places like a shroud over me. He tells me to close my eyes. I feel him scamper across the bed and sit on his haunches behind my head. His hands start to caress my neck and shoulders. It’s hard not to giggle. The music and the situation is amusing; the fact that this was totally unexpected too. Not half an hour ago we were having a drink in the pub. And now this.

(Much later, when I’m thinking about the experience and reliving it to write, I wonder if this was actually the brush off. What was in it for him, I wonder?”)

His hands massage my arms, my hands, my legs and feet. I am not turned on until he gently pulls my legs apart. His hands work up my thighs and I grow wet. Maybe he senses this because next I feel his tongue on my nipples, and I giggle. I slip in and out of a dream in which I am Cleopatra travelling on a boat down the Nile flanked by servants and slave girls. The incense and slow drum beat add to this. But the sighing noises bring me back to my room and the situation. I want to be fucked now; I want his hands inside me and his body on mine.

But I stop myself because he is in control here, I am the passive vessel for his ridiculous magic. He wears only his boxers; yet I cannot tell if he is hard, big or turned on. I am so close to orgasm now. When he asks me to turn over it is a relief. I can’t place my head comfortably so I wiggle a little and he asks if I’m okay. He works on my shoulders and neck again and on my hands and wrists. The oil smells divine, but I do worry about my sheets. His hands travel again up my thighs and I no longer have control of my body.

Do I orgasm? I feel like a queen. That is enough.


Not with a bang but with a whimper, the return to writing. The lull was not self-imposed, the reasons dull.
Actually, no. One reason was that the process of writing about fucks had become hackneyed. In documenting the coitus I had become lethargic. Ennui.
So, yes. There was sex, and plenty of it. But I found myself forgetting the details, not finding one thrilling enough to detail for you, dear reader. We had grown concerned for our audience losing interest.
The blog was always an outlet. Somewhere to hang up our bra, knickers and strap on and laugh at our experiences. Oh yes, the guy who suddenly turned sissy while I was on top was an odd one, but turned us off so much we couldn’t bear to write about it. And then there was nearly a porn star. But nearly isn’t enough is it?
So when a guy turns up at your house at 11.30pm on a Friday night wearing latex underneath his normal clothes you know there is a story in there somewhere.
Let’s be clear – I don’t have previous in this medium. And maybe I never will. A makeshift crotchless PVC onepiece with holes cut out for breasts did make a good substitute. This outfit alone meant I was soaking before he even got here. He takes off the outer clothes and is wearing a black latex polo shirt and leggings with red stripes down the sides. He’s tall, bearded and with glasses perhaps more handsome than I expected.
I feel like a child exploring a new playroom. I even ask him what to do. My naivety cannot be attractive, but we start with me licking the outline of his cock encased in rubber. It’s really quite sensational. He lies back on the bed. There’s a red zip which I guess I’m not allowed to unfasten quite yet. I can feel the warmth of his crotch but it’s not weird like I expected. I hop up and rub myself against him. Crumbs, is this supposed to feel this good? I could actually orgasm doing this. He takes the top off and we fool around some more. He slaps my cunt, after checking its okay to do that. I love it. I remove my outfit as it’s not very practical to fuck in. He unzips his cock and I take it in my mouth, a great specimen but very hairy balls, dear reader.

He groans. A lot. We kiss. He fucks me from behind. And then I get on top.

There is a moment where I nip some part of my cunt on his zip. I cry out and then realise what a turn on it is. I almost come, but he does instead – silently.

The Van Man

We’ve been chatting for a good 7 months, trying to find a good time to meet. Okay, okay: we were meant to be having a threesome. With holidays, other commitments it got difficult. So we end up meeting just one on one. I have a day off, he’s working nearby. It falls into place easily. 

We meet at my local pub, a terrifying venue which is mainly men. In fact I’m one of two women. I get many leery looks when I go to the bar, I decide to ignore all of them and sit outside. 

He bounds in not long after. We laugh and joke and I make it very clear he’s welcome to come back to mine. I jump in his van and he drives me round to my road. He’s a painter and decorator, runs his own business. I don’t have one of those in my black book and I let him know he’ll have to take a look at my place. 

I dash to the loo and return to find him standing in the bedroom gazing out the window. I slip my arms around him from behind and reach into his pants. He’s got a very healthy package. 

I kneel before him and try and take the length, he groans and grabs my tit. I take my bra off and my skirt. He pulls everything off and I lie back on the bed. He pulls aside my knickers and laps. He buries his face in my pussy, his hair massing around his face making him look like a Jack Russell with ears. It’s delicious and I seriously regret fucking myself to orgasm earlier with a bullet vibe. His technique is a delight. He tells me he is afraid of coming too soon and asks for a condom. 

He enters me from behind and his length is breathtaking, it feels pretty good inside me. He grabs my cheeks and I tell him to look in the mirror at us. He keeps stopping, telling me he’s close to coming. I instruct him to reach around and play with my clit. That for him is the end, he comes and tells me he has – apologising profusely. 

Unlike those who have gone before him I don’t mind. Before he leaves he gives me a quick price for decorating two rooms and I fuck myself again with the doxy before he’s even driven out of my road. 

One and two makes

I’m hosting a threesome for the first time: it feels weird. Especially when you’ve only had 24 hours notice and one of the guys you’ve known for ages and it’s his idea. The other guy is his mate. And all this despite the fact you’ve tried to tempt him before. 

They arrive and we chat for a bit downstairs. I’m so nervous I trip over my words. I don’t know why- I’ve done this before it’s them who are new to it. N is as he always is: handsome, jokey and impeccably dressed. M is quieter and I make sure not to make him feel uncomfortable. One by one they excuse themselves to go to the bathroom. While M is upstairs N asks for a glass of water and follows me into the kitchen. He grabs my butt as I turn the tap on. And then kisses me gently. He asks if this is all okay and I say yes, it is. 

He takes me upstairs while M is in the bathroom. We circle my room and wait for M. We chat for a bit and I sit on the bed to take my shoes off. I turn to kiss M for the first time while N is behind me: rougher, pulling apart my pants to finger me. I’m soaked already. We all undress and I see M is quite small down there and has a belly. They couldn’t look more different. I go straight for M’s dick while N does his usual lick and fingers my pussy. I groan as I suck. It’s too good. M comes pretty quickly and I swallow his load. Wipe my mouth and lie on my back. N starts between my legs while M and I kiss. I love the contrast and enjoy kissing someone I don’t know at all. His lips and beard are soft and he is gentle, shy. I can’t come with N so ask them to swap and within 5 minutes I’m shuddering into M’s face. 

We lie back, all three of us me in the middle. M caresses my shoulders while I kiss N. Both their hands play with my clit. I grab a dick in each hand: one small and semi hard, the other huge and hard. And then both of them start nibbling at my breasts. At that moment I feel like a queen. 

Our afternoon takes many turns. Me and M 69 while N watches; playing with his cock and looking out of the window for air. I suck M again and he comes again in my mouth. I come straddling N’s face. N fucksme from   behind while I suck M, his thrusts pushing me further onto this tiny dick. 

I ride N, M lying beside us. It’s weird and we both know it without having to say anything.  I reach for M’s dick and try to pump it but it’s too much of a stretch. I think he’s getting off on what’s going on anyway. As always I have a brief ” what the hell must I look like” thought which disappears as soon as it appeared. I have two cocks in my room and no time limit. 

N can’t come and keeps telling us which as I point out is a mistake. He tells us he doesn’t feel right and I worry that by putting attention on the newcomer I have neglected him. 

They take showers, one after the other and N comes to me after his at the sink as I’m making my face look less like it’s just had a threesome. He asks me to kneel down on the bathroom floor and suck him. I don’t really want to, but he does need to come. I swallow his length and within 30 seconds he comes hard. There is a lot of come in my mouth for the third time today and this I can’t swallow. I spit it out in the sink while he dries himself. 

They leave and I quickly dress to go and visit friends across town. Guilty with the taste of cum still on my lips. 


I meet him in my new private members club: he gets there first and I trip in around 10 minutes late. I’m delighted to see he is as advertised and I immediately fancy him. We are sitting next to each other in a corner but very quickly we are surrounded by other couples. 
While we chat he starts to touch me, my arm, my thigh. Nothing creepy. I wish many times we are in a different position and not either side of a table but despite that suddenly he is reaching to kiss me and sliding his tongue in my mouth. It feels too much and I tell him. 
A few more drinks and he tells me he wants to fuck me in an alley: I tell him he’s ridiculous. As always with a man I’m attracted to – I am amazed at the compliment. He slips a finger into my pussy as we kiss; in full view of everyone. It’s been a while.

We leave and he takes me by the hand. Which shocks me as well. We find an alleyway near to a busy pub and he starts to kiss me. My pussy lubricates itself as he kisses my neck. He gropes under my dress and a group pass by. I feel so slutty. We stop, then he continues. It’s a warm night and people are still out. We walk to the Main Street and he snogs me in a doorway : someone shouts at him to get his tongue out of my throat. I feel like I’m 14: except this never happened when I was 14. 

We walk to an area with seating, it’s late and other people are embracing and trying to find a private spot. We both have our bags over our laps and our hands in each other’s pants. It is glorious. He makes me taste myself. It gets busier, we laugh as the folk walking past all have hats on and it’s way too hot. 

We find another narrower alleyway and by now I am dripping. I can feel my knickers are soaked. His hands push aside the fabric and I grunt as he expertly works my clit. We stop as cars go past, he says we should stop. I feel his cock through his jeans and pull it out while he loosens his belt. His cock is sturdy, just the way I like them. I put him into my mouth and he says my name over and over again. He grabs my head and then pulls me away. He’s now behind me grabbing at my breasts. I pull up my dress, twirl and show him my knickers. It drives him wild, he grabs me back to press my body against his, furiously fingering me. I tell him to lick it, and he obeys straight away. I hold his head and arch one leg around him as he laps it up and I grind on his face. And then minutes later up he gets as he can’t stay kneeling so swaps tongue for fingers. My legs tremble and I can feel my wetness coat my thighs. I come, a glorious sweaty release in the hot summer night. 
I text him on the way home:
“I’ve never come like that so quickly”

I pause before pressing send. And then think – fuck it. He has to know. 
“I nearly came when you sucked me, I was so close. And I have literally only ever been able to come in someone’s mouth once.” 

1pm & 6pm 30/6/17

I’m sitting here like the cat that’s got the cream. In the past 24 hours I’ve had sex with the two most fabulous guys within hours of each other. And I can only tell you, dear reader. When I woke up my nipples hurt. And then I remembered. I haven’t bathed yet, the smell of myself on my fingers, enjoying every last memory of a filthy afternoon.

Both guys haven’t visited for ages : the first three months ago, the second twelve. The timing is perfect. I haven’t been fucked in a month; their messages spark my pussy into life after a week of monthly-cycle slumber.

I arrive home minutes before the first guy: just enough time to quickly pull on a suspender belt and stockings. He likes what he sees of course and we go upstairs immediately. He’s pre-booked a few requests in so I don’t waste any time unbuckling his belt and manipulating his length into my mouth. He loves this, he gently holds my head in the position he wants and thrusts gently. My throat opens up and I take him as deep as I can, in between a few deep breaths. My saliva drools from his cock, he pumps it a few times and lifts it so I can suck his balls.

I can’t kneel any more so get on the bed. He kneels now to worship my pussy. As he touches my crotch he exclaims how wet I am. I’m delighted. We both strip and he fingers me, his palm flat on my mons pubis, his other hand working away inside. He has been practising, it feels incredible. We 69, me on top, no time to tie my hair back. My drool and his pre-cum are now in my hair.

He wants to take me doggy style and asks for a condom. He arranges me at the end of the bed. Normally I hate this position but I want to feel used, only there for his pleasure. He thrusts into me until I can’t move. It’s not unpleasant but it isn’t doing much for me. I manage to push back on his cock and push myself up, but he wants to stop. He flips me over and I realise he’s lost his erection. We don’t have much time anyway, he has to go back to work.

We travel back into the city, him into the office, me to an appointment.

A few hours later I get back home. I can still smell him on my hands. I shower quickly and wonder what to wear for the second round. I decide on the same combo, a lacy halter bra and knickers, different dress. I slick myself with lube as always. And then the doorbell goes.

I had forgotten how tall he was. He kisses me in the doorway and he tastes of his lunch – something tomatoey with celery. It both repulses me and makes me wet. His kisses are to die for. I lead him upstairs and shyly look at him. His body! I had forgotten the smoothness of his skin and the tautness of his arms. Like a pro he grabs my chin and kisses me again. And pinches my bum. I unbuckle and take his cock in a mirror image of what I did 3 hours ago. His is thicker, and harder. I lie down on the bed like earlier and he kisses right around my knickers, teasing me. Oh how I have missed this professional. My kickers are removed and his mouth is on my sex and it is so good I make noises I haven’t before. As he inserts his fingers I almost giggle with pleasure, but stop myself. He is stimulating my Gspot and I am on the borderline between pain and pleasure – I hear the familiar sound of wetness as he moves his expert hands and realise I have squirted all over the bed.

We take a break and then start up again. It’s warm in my room and he is sweating. But we try every position – him on top, holding my legs in the air, scissoring me and from behind. But reader, as soon as I climb aboard that magnificent length, I am gone. I come straight away.

Let her eat cake

It’s the only way I get to see him these days: order a cake. One day I’ll order one just for me. I won’t share it at all, it won’t be for someone else’s birthday. Maybe I’ll indulge one of my own unspoken fantasies with it. Sit on it.

This time it’s red velvet. As I lift the lid of the box I can smell the butter in the cream cheese frosting. The top is covered in red glitter and grated white chocolate. He’s done good and he knows it. We stand chatting for a while and I get the feeling we aren’t going to fuck: he has another cake to bake tonight and has to go shopping for the ingredients.

As he leaves he turns to kiss me. And doesn’t stop. His hands move to my waist, my breasts and my pussy. He bites my neck and I squirm, my head landing on his shoulder. I groan and reach into his shorts for his cock. He’s semi-hard and I kneel down to take his length. I don’t know what we’re doing but I feel nothing, and it feels great.

Upstairs he stands behind me and pulls down my knickers. He jiggles out of his shorts and he’s naked. I sit down on the bed and he opens my legs, licking and sucking at my pussy lips. He works me into a frenzy and I have to pull away, the stimulation of my clit is too much.

Next his fingers are inside me, I can hear how wet my pussy is as he stimulates my g-spot. I grab his cock and suck it, he wiggles his fingers inside me. I groan again. I tell him he has to fuck me. He pulls me down the bed and makes me ride his face. My knees buckle as they’re too near the end. We keep it up for a while and then he pushes me onto my side. He smacks my ass and pushes his cock inside. It’s really good but he needs to put a condom on. He thrusts hard and pounds me, my face is pushed into the pillow and I love the feeling of being used. Scared he’s gonna come too soon I push myself up and make him put on a condom. I ride him until we both come together for the first time.

Gonna make you sweat

I’m reminding myself this is only the third time we’ve met. Him: dishevelled, hungover and chain smoking. Me: dressed like a slut and have got off the station at the wrong place. We’re both on good form as usual, so my mishap is forgiven.

We are soon back at his, after a brief dash to the shops. We undress in the intense heat of his room, it’s too unbearable not to. Soon I’m riding his face, grabbing the bed head to steady myself, properly grinding on him. It’s divine. I leap off so as not to drown him and he brings out some of his feted equipment.

It’s a collar with restraints, designed to keep the wearers’ hands behind their back. As he fastens it around my neck and wrists I feel my pussy clench and grow wetter. It’s been a while since I did anything like this. He pumps his cock with his fist and I bow my head. I didn’t realise how much this could turn someone on. I feel rather invincible, if a little immobile. I manage to position myself on top of him with difficulty, I have no balance and I’m top heavy. We get up a rhythm but almost straightaway I find can slip my left wrist through the band and steady myself to ride him properly. Glorious.

The collar comes off, it’s too hot and too close for comfort. He spreads me out on the bed and enters me again, the sweat from his brow dripping onto me. It’s boiling and we are both soaked, slick with our exertions.

We take a breather and I ask if he wants to wear the collar.


I’ve bunked off work between meetings : my boss is away and the weather is too good to be stuck in the office. It’s April but feels like July. Your flat isn’t too far from the station so it’s easy to get to and get away from. You’re probably working from home: your kiss at the bottom of the stairs is my welcome and I’m quickly whisked up and the door closed.

Your bedroom is the wonderful mess it usually is: clothes strewn everywhere, the curtains blowing with the slight breeze from the window. It is a gloriously sunny day and as we remove each other’s clothes I realise I’m already sweating. We kiss hungrily, we haven’t seen each other in a while. Like always, I kneel before you to take your cock in my mouth. Like always, you hold the back of my head and make sure my hair stays out of my eyes. Soon we are on the bed, grasping at each other despite the heat. You’re between my legs and then I’m on top, crying out as you hit my sweet spot.

Strangely enough, more memorable is what happens straight afterwards. You ask if I’d like a bacon sandwich. I pull on my bra and knickers and sit on your roof while I wait, gazing down at the people below. They’re out enjoying the sun, I’m here in my underwear unobserved. At this stage of my life, I’m not confident about my body. But in the sun on that balcony I am queen of all I survey. And when you hand me the bacon sandwich and a cup of tea, I’m golden.

Wednesday 10.30pm

I am on a date, but I don’t want to be. I want to be with HIM. The date is perfunctory: I feel guilty because I blew this guy out last week for the one I want to be with. And there are no clues with the guy sitting opposite me: the fact he is married glares like a neon sign in my brain: stay away. And he’s charming, and interesting but there is no spark.


I leave him and message X. X is telling me he is too drunk to meet now and won’t be finished until 10pm. I’m in two minds about whether to hook up with him – but I want to see him. I get on a train then realise it’s not going to my stop: I get off at a station he comes through and decide to get dinner. I tell him where I am.

In the restaurant I realise how hungry I am and how I’ve not eaten much all day. Two interviews and a lot of brain action is taking its toll: as I eat I realise how tired I am. I laugh at a couple across from me- she is wasted and can barely open her eyes but shovels forkfuls of pasta into her mouth while her companion avoids her.

I finish my meal and wonder about going home. And then he asks where I am.

I wheel out of the restaurant and see him coming towards me. I’ll never forget the look on his face as long as I live: he looks so happy to see me. I break into a grin. We then have a reel around M&S for supplies – he says he’s not eaten either and we grab some cans of whisky and ginger.


On the train home he takes the piss out of me. We crack open the tins and giggle. And I relax for the first time that day.

Back at his I play with the cat, reminding him to get the pizza out of his rucksack. And now I realise how drunk he is: he’s sort of dancing for me in a not very sexy way. He plays me some music and lies on the floor. And then gets up again and pulls my breasts out of my top, nuzzling and biting them. I feel so self conscious- half naked with my tits out – no reader, I don’t know why either. He pulls out his cock and strokes it. I ask him to show me how he wanks. I reach to join my hand with his and then end up with him in my mouth. I want his mouth on my cunt: god I crave it so much. But he hasn’t touched me.

I go to the loo and when I get back he’s asleep on the floor. Snoring. I feel like this is some sort of joke, and consider what I’ve done. I undress and get into bed but that doesn’t feel right either. I have to wake him up.

I half- pull, half drag him to bed. It reminds me of several other terrible exes who drank and doesn’t bode well. He starts to try and kiss me, pulling at my knickers but end up asleep on me. Something inside me chokes and dies.

I manage to push him over to his side of the bed, cursing myself.


In the morning his hands are all over me. I tell him he fell asleep on me but he doesn’t say anything, just nudges my knickers down and pokes his cock between my legs. I’m dry down there and self conscious but we end up fucking in front of the mirror – me on my back head dangling over the side and him looming over me. He kneads my breasts with his hands, and pulls my hand to play with my clit. His face is screwed up in concentration as he pounds away. It looks fucking great and he soon makes me come, watching him thrust into me like that. The image in the mirror is almost better than the real thing.

I forget the events of the night before and think everything will be okay again.