This delicious fantasy about being the ‘backstage girl’ is written and read by the fabulous Barefoot Sub, and originally appeared on her website. 

There I was, outside the door that would take me to him. I had dreamt about this moment since he first came into my life, since the first time I was allowed to see him, albeit a photograph. Though the fantasy that I knew would never be brought to reality had been deep-rooted since my teens, being invited to one of his gigs was almost as good. I could stand in the crowd, listen to him play, watch his fingers dance over the frets knowing exactly what those fingers could do. I would mirror those fingers as I followed my instructions, to edge myself during the course of his set. I wasn’t allowed to orgasm, but he wanted to be able to find my eyes and see my heat through the crowd.

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This fabulous story about getting gangbanged is written and read by Ariadne Awakes. Note: everything that happens to the narrator is pre-planned and entirely consensual.

Each time I hear another pair of footsteps entering wherever it is that he’s handcuffed me, my heart skips another beat and my clit throbs. They don’t speak, but I can feel the air charged with their need, their smell, their lust.

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I want to be filled up with spunk. That’s it, really: that’s the blog post. Right now I am utterly and completely obsessed with grabbing a dude by the lapels, dragging him towards me so my lips are right against his ear and I can breathe in that horny scent of him, then growling in his ear “please fill me with your spunk.” Not just one guy, either: ideally he’d be one of many. I want to get filled up with spunk, and the more spunk there is, the better.

Note: the fantasy mentioned at the start of this piece may touch on some themes that are a teeny bit non-consensual. They’re technically extremely consensual, because I wank about them, and if this scene were to happen in real life (pleasepleaseplease), it would only happen if everyone were fully on board with the role play.

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Recently someone emailed me a question that went a little something like this: “you’ve alluded to wanting a spitroast/gang bang before. But there are clubs in London where this happens every night! Why don’t you just go to one of those?!” It is not an uncommon question, and I suspect it’s one that quite a lot of horny, slutty women get asked, so I thought I’d have a crack at answering it. I don’t think everyone will feel the same way I do, but (with thanks to the person who asked the question) here’s why this pervy woman isn’t in sex clubs every night.

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Now listen. I know that what I should be doing tonight is cheering on the England team, and I totally will be. But as we get ready for kickoff there are some people watching the match who can’t keep their brain from wandering to one specific fantasy. I say ‘some people’ because conversations with other horny fuckers confirms that I’m not the only one. There may be five of us, ten of us, or ten thousand of us, but make no mistake there are some of us: people who are thinking less about the score than we are about the changing rooms. Specifically, what it would be like to be the changing room slut.

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