Today’s guest blog speaks to me deeply. As a filthy, experienced sex blogger I have dated quite a few people who have worried they’re too ‘vanilla‘ for my tastes. As if once you start trying kink, there’s no going back, and no sex will be good enough unless at least one of you ends up suspended from the ceiling covered in Nuttella. This week’s anonymous contributor gives a funny, sweet account of how she took the news that her boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend had more sexual experience than she did. Is ‘vanilla’ an acceptable flavour? I’ll let her give you the answer…

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This stunning threesome erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard and it picks up the story from part 1 (exhibitionism at the hotel). Check that out first before returning here to dive back in… 

My mind is foggy. My eyes are bleary. My mouth feels like it is full of cotton wool. I can feel the warmth of your body to one side of me. I can just hear the shallow breath of you sleeping. I can feel the tell tale signs of a disheveled bed around me and the pliable but firm casing of your vibrator under my pillow. My body hair is stiff and matted with the previous evening’s sweat and come, and the sweet scent of hard sex lingers in the air. The hotel is full of noises. Maids cleaning rooms. Couples collecting their thrown clothes from the floor and furniture. People going about their regular lives in the street so many floors below. The shower in our en-suite running… I get halfway through thinking “…who the fuck is in our shower?” when the events of the past few hours flood my memory like a vivid dream.

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“Who’s this?” I ask him, hand shaking as I hold the phone, complete with text that I definitely wish I hadn’t read. It’s the first time in my life that I realise I’m jealous. Until then I had never expected to be. He shakes his head in reply, mumbles, and tells me that he fucked her.

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Maybe the feeling I need to tap into, if my partner and I are going to explore sexual adventures with other people, isn’t a sense of peaceful acceptance of the thought of him fucking someone else: it’s the kinkiness of it. Sometimes I want to show him off, and maybe this is the key to dampening my jealousy…

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Apparently Mike Pence only ever eats dinner with his wife. Another guy, a blogger called Matt Walsh, does the same – never dining with any women other than his wife in case it could be construed that he likes them. Or might shag them. Or fall in love with them. Today I learned that some men refuse to eat dinner with any women other than their wives. Consider my mind blown.

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