I’m not a fan of No Nut November (the month-long challenge where people try not to wank for reasons that vary from ‘fine’ to ‘oh God please stop spewing falsehoods about wanking harming your brain’). I like wanking and I dislike people who try to make others feel ashamed or broken because they enjoy a hand shandy. However, there is one huge benefit to the end of No Nut November that I haven’t yet dwelled upon for fear I’ll end up trapped in a horn spiral for the whole of lockdown. Namely: how much fucking jizz there’ll be when everyone who is partaking in it joins a massive beat-one-out party at 12:01 on December 1st.
Recently my Patreons and I started a fun game where they give me prompts (name, kink, location and object), and I use them to try and write something that ticks the boxes and (ideally) is nice and wankable. This month I am working busily on a super-secret project that only they know about, so I hope they won’t mind if I borrow a little story from behind the paywall and put it up here for you to enjoy. This is a piece of gang bang erotica which was written off the back of the following prompts… Name: Laura, Kink: Gyno chair, Location: Swingers’ club dark room, Object: rope, tied to chair.
Note: contains piss and, obviously, a gang bang.
Every year for Halloween I try to take an evil/scary creature and sexify it by writing some erotica. In past years we’ve done a succubus, a siren, a vampire and (my favourite from a filth perspective) a zombie. This year, @OnQueerStreet suggested I take on a werewolf, and I liked the idea of writing something romantic and loving that had hidden teeth. So here goes: The Relentless Moon. Werewolf erotica, for Halloween 2020.
Life is hard and haunted. The world is a mess, I am a mess. But I cannot just focus on the darkness and the panic: in order to keep driving forwards through the tricky stuff, I need to fill my tank with occasional joy. So I text a guy I vaguely know and I ask him to bring me tequila. And his dick.
Weirdly, when I first experienced the indescribably brilliant, fuck-me-to-the-brink-of-death-and-beyond power of the Doxy, it didn’t occur to me to ask for something that would pump that power into my cunt. I was happy enough just fucking my Doxy as it was – using the throbbing rumble of the mighty original Doxy on my clit. Latterly I’ve been content to let those powerful waves travel through the flesh of my pubic mound, into the internal walls of my vagina, where they meet up with the Godemiche ambit dildo like two dudes meeting me on the Piccadilly line and then DP-fucking me in the lift at Covent Garden. What a complete twat I feel now, having experienced the power of Doxy inside my cunt, to never have thought to ask for it before.