This gleefully filthy erotic fiction is written by Kate, and originally appeared on her website. It is read here by Girl on the Net. 

There’s four of us at the breakfast table – the father, the son, the mother and me. Well, I say four, it’s three – the father, the son and me – the mother is making breakfast like a dutiful housewife and the son gets packed off to school sharpish, leaving the father and the mother and me. His and hers dressing gowns. She balked at my ill-fitting t shirt from some summer festival in ’75. I was a child, then. She didn’t know me, then. Whoever bought this t shirt bought it for a boyfriend or lover who turned out rotten so to the thrift shop it went and I scooped it up and sleep in it, after a boil wash.

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This gorgeous fisting erotica – which includes BDSM and degradation – is written and read by Quenby, and originally appeared on their blog. 

Her legs are bent at the knee, spread open before me. Her mound bristles with trimmed pubes, leading down to her cunt glistening with arousal. I lean forward, inhaling her musky scent. My tongue flicks out, running along her lips before pushing into her wet heat. I pull back and look at her: “Mmm, you’re so fucking wet. I love the taste of your cunt.”

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This delicious erotic story about fucking in a tube station is written by Nooky, and originally appeared on her website. It is read here by Girl on the Net.

It’s the last tube home, or almost. They’ve drunk enough beer that they haven’t kept track, not quite. Their stop is far enough out, a backwater on a bit of the Central that feels almost bucolic, that no one else gets off except a little old lady in a mauve peacoat who walks slowly off towards the lift.

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There are two types of people in this world: those who unwrap their gifts with care and precision, trying not to shred the paper as they go, and those who tear into it with eager, gleeful joy, destroying the wrapping in their haste to get to the gift. If you’re the second type of person, this Christmas erotica is for you.

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This BDSM/cuckqueaning erotica was written by Cal (@uncmfrtblynmb) and originally appeared on his Medium blog. It is read here by Girl on the Net. 

Allison tasted the raw leather of the whip held between her dry lips. She felt the perspiration breaking out at her hairline, it was warm in her seat in the corner, with the dappled late afternoon sun shining on her naked back, but more from the stress position she was in. The wraparound chair was comfortable in its own right, but with her back hunched over and wrists cuffed to her ankles, which were in turn bound to the front legs of the chair, she was struggling.

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