Tag Archives: fun sex
Guest blog: Venom eulogy – a stinging nettle saga
I love a good hike, and I’m also a fan of shorts, so stinging nettles hover somewhere close to the top of my ‘irritating nemesis’ list, alongside barbed wire and people who let their dogs off the lead then shout ‘DON’T WORRY, HE’S VERY FRIENDLY’ when the little prick comes bounding towards me all full of teeth. It would never in a million years have occurred to me that stinging nettles could be sexy. But, as with so many topics, incredible guest blogger and queen of unusual kinks Jenby is here to show that actually, stinging nettles can be very fucking sexy indeed…
Sunday (part 3): Sex on the beach
This fabulous story is written and read by Sundial. This is part 3 in a multi-part series. You can check out part 1 ‘a mouth and a cunt full of cock’ here. And part 2 ‘just for a moment’ here.
Coffee on the terrace, we had such luck with the weather. All blue skies and wheeling seagulls calling to each other, the smell of the sea at the bottom of the hill wafting to us on the light breeze. It felt summery and warm. And we were silent, just being. I was still reeling, still hot and wet with a dizzying ache of emptiness, of denial teasing inside me. With your nails, you stroked the backs of my fingers where they rested on the table. Ohh, and even that light touch sent electricity coursing through me. I thought I might explode with lust.
“Stop or I’ll come.”
I’m riding his cock. It’s the end of a very long night, and he’s built up plenty of spunk. Not only do I really want that spunk, I also really want to come myself. So just before I hop onto his dick, he hands me one of the toys that I wish every guy I banged had in his bedside drawer: a Doxy. Grinding my clit against it while his rock-solid thickness stretches out my cunt is a proper treat, and combined with the porn that I chose, which is playing in the corner of the bedroom, I’m sure I’ll come in no time.
Stroking: It’s all about the rhythm
We’re sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, legs entwined. There’s something chill and easy on the telly and I’m enjoying the sensation of his hand stroking up my thigh. He moves his palms in measured, predictable strokes. From my bare knee, up and over the fabric of my shorts to the top, and then back again. My skin tingles and my cunt starts to ache.
Sweat: he tastes every inch of me
This gorgeous story about sex and sweat is written and read by Robyn of RobynEatsEverything. Note: this is a work of fiction and a fantasy scenario; please don’t approach Robyn in the gym.
As I lift my arms up above my head, I feel a stream of cool sweat trickling down the nape of my neck, finding a cleft in my skin in which to swim lower between my shoulder blades, the small of my back, and into the gape of my leggings to the valley between my cheeks. The dampness of my skin would suggest the aircon in the gym isn’t working today; there’s no frigid breeze relieving my cherry-red cheeks. Working through this set, I’m more aware of other little streams crawling down my body and pooling in the most uncomfortable places; under my tits, my arse, under my belly, between my thighs.