Tag Archives: erotic fiction

Erotic fiction: the woman behind the porn cinema

This is a fantasy about a porn cinema that I wrote ages ago, for reasons I can’t remember. I like things that are simultaneously sexy and grotesque – like the blow job/dripping sandwich fantasy. That’s my way of saying the following story might be weird. And maybe disturbing. And creepily voyeuristic. Alternatively it might not be, and the fact I’ve waited six months to publish it has been a complete waste of my mental energy.

If you asked me to write my own future, I would write the following story. Then you’d wish you’d never asked, and I’d have to burn it, and we probably wouldn’t be friends any more because the whole thing would get awkward.

Anyway. Some erotic fiction. Or a disturbing vision of my distant future. Don’t judge me. Let’s go. 

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Risky sex: don’t try this at home

Today I’m obsessed with risky sex. The kind that gets your heart hammering in time to the thud of your crotch, as you fuck with a nebulous yet oh-so-urgent deadline. Get it over with before the others find you.

Risky sex. Like the snatched gropes you have in crowded places, or the slightly-more-than-that which teenagers do on the bus.

Sex you have not because you’re too horny to get a room, but because the thrill of being discovered makes it all feel more illicit.

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Virtual reality porn: a deliciously pervy side effect

I’m going to talk more about virtual reality porn at some point. It’s a massive topic, with tonnes of scope for putting yourself in various amazing pictures, and I hope that as the tech comes down in price people will come up with yet more creative and exciting virtual reality porn scenarios. I’m secretly hoping I might be able to score work writing them, so hit me up if you’re a porn producer with a massive budget and a desire to branch out.

However. For now I want to tell you one thing that – since it was mentioned to me – has had me mesmerised with possibility:

Guys wanking while watching VR porn.

Yeah, I know. That sounds… obvious? But let me paint you a picture…

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In which he tells me a sexy story…

Everything that happens in this blog post is consensual. But it involves two people exploring consensual non-consent fantasies, so please be aware before you read. 

I love a good bedtime story. Ideally a story told in hushed whispers, with his lips pressed right up against my ear and his hand rummaging eagerly at my cunt.

It’s probably frustrating, when you’re getting hot and hard and ready, to have your partner pause for a break in proceedings to ask for a bedtime story. But there’s something about a sexy story that gets me wetter than a hand could. The plot, the fucking itself, the veiled implication that these are things he would do to me if he could…

Yeah. I like sexy stories.

Most of the time, bedtime stories take the form of memories or future plans.

“Remember when we…?”

“Have you ever wanted to..?”

And they’re great. But they’re different. I’m talking here about real bedtime stories – scripts he writes in his head, with the express purpose of turning me on.

Here’s one of my favourites.

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The night bus: a sexy story about cuckolding

Each month in 2016 I’m doing one day’s work for charity – so everything I earn on that day goes to charity (today it’s Against Malaria Foundation). I had a spare hour alongside my scheduled work today, so I offered to write a custom story if someone would donate some cash. This anonymous donor requested a story about cuckolding, and I’m delighted they did because it gave me this idea, which was so hot I had to have two wanks before I finished it. 

If you want a custom story, keep an eye on my Twitter feed around the end of Feb, when I’ll be doing another day like this.

In the meantime, if you like cuckolding too – get stuck in. 

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