“I just need you to know,” one guy told me, before we started fucking, “that I very rarely come during penetrative sex. In fact, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that’s happened.” It didn’t matter who he was fucking or where his dick happened to be, he had very rarely ever come inside. You’d hope that someone as body-positive and sex-knowledgeable as Girl on the fucking Net would instinctively have some bon mot at the ready to put him at ease and reassure him that delayed ejaculation (or an inability to ejaculate full-stop) is common, and nothing to be ashamed of. And I did but… Although my rational brain was more than happy to explain that I don’t actually need champagne fountains of jizz in order to be sexually satisfied depressingly – embarrassingly – my heart fluttered with something a little different. When he told me how few people had managed to get him to come inside them, something deep in my soul chimed in with: ‘I bet I can do it, though.’

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This gorgeous ass fucking story is written and read by Robyn of RobynEatsEverything. 

It’s hard to believe, looking at how thick their dick is, that it’s going to fit in my arse. But we agree, as they nibble the tender spot under my ear and I lazily stroke their hardening length against my soft stomach, that we’re both eager to feel it try.

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You can feel your lover’s pulse with one finger. You know this, of course, but I bet you don’t think about it often. I thought about it the other day and the force of it hit me like a punch in the chest. You can feel the thud of their blood running through their body, keeping them alive. The heartbeat that powers the person who makes you quiver with need. The one you want to bury your nose, your face, your fucking life in… you can feel your lover’s pulse with a single finger. Isn’t that awesome?

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She puts on the fishnets with no knickers. The tights are medium gauge, with holes just wide enough that you can easily stick a finger through to rip them. She’s never worn them like this before, and the cool air on her cunt feels strange when it’s also flimsily caged. Strange but good. Next she puts on the t-shirt he left on her bedroom floor last night. A faded black one with the logo of one of his favourite bands. If you’re joining me in this fantasy, feel free to pick whichever shirt has most resonance for you: maybe it’s the home kit from your football team, a flannel one that you wear around the house on lazy, happy days, maybe it’s merch from your favourite festival, whatever. Pick whichever you’re most likely to leave on your girlfriend’s bedroom floor. Whichever shirt you’d most like to dress your partner in before you fuck them. She puts on the fishnets and that shirt, then angles the mirror.

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There are so many incredible things I could highlight about this week’s guest blog. It’s got some stunningly achey descriptions of kissing, and kissing is very much my jam at the moment. Some truly exquisite descriptions of fingering too, which I don’t think gets nearly enough attention in erotica (my own included). And I’d be silly if I didn’t mention – for search as well as for fans of the act itself – that this is a deliciously explicit fisting story, detailed and real and beautiful. But for me the best thing about this week’s erotic fiction is the intimacy of it. From the first time the characters lock eyes to the very final gasp of the story, they’re locked together in a deeply intimate fuck. I love it. Please welcome today’s anonymous guest blogger…

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