Category Archives: Filthy ones

Christmas at Waterloo station

Waterloo station. Bottom of the escalator, going up. Brunette, mid-thirties, backpack full of last-minute Christmas presents. The last time she fucked was yesterday – a quick make-up shag after a week of loneliness. He slipped out of her just as he started to come, and she conjures the memory of the wetness spreading on the inside of her thighs, and tries not to let the other commuters see her smile.

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Revenge fuck: I’ll see you again when I’m dripping with diamonds

The problem with writing a non-fiction blog is that sometimes the characters can get boring. I really like the guy I fuck, so I can’t really sink my teeth into stories that have darker emotions attached. So recently, on a bit of a holiday from my normal blogging, I wrote a whole bunch of erotic fiction pieces based on different kinds of fuck. Hate fucks, pity fucks, spite fucks and so on. This one is a revenge fuck.

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Tiger sex: 22 seconds of Dynasties’ smoking hot big cat action

Why don’t humans ever roar during sex? You know, just letting out a proper, full-throated, guttural roar which shakes the very walls of the bedroom you happen to be fucking in. Luckily, although humans are incapable of doing this, the latest episode of Dynasties on the BBC has the next best thing: 22 seconds of full-throated, hot-blooded tiger sex. It’s the most erotic thing I have ever seen in my life.

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“D’you want to bend over and get fucked?”

He walks in, cock already hard. One hand on the waistband of his trousers. He slams the door behind him with his foot and says, simply: “D’you want to bend over and get fucked?”

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Sexual rejection: an adult story in which I act like a petulant child

One of the strange things about my current relationship – as opposed to any other I’ve been in – is that I’ve forgotten how to get rejected. I know, right? Poor me. Please crack out the smallest violin you own and play a concerto in ‘Woe is GOTN.’ Rejection – and specifically sexual rejection – is something I used to have a lot of practise in. I knew how to take a ‘no’, and greet it with a shrug and a cuddle. I knew how to take ‘seriously? Now? AGAIN?’ and absorb it into my thick, thick skin, so it couldn’t pierce through to the soft bit inside me that – whisper it – needed sex to feel loved.

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