This week’s fabulously sexy guest blog is an extract from Kirstyn Smith’s novella, The Twelve Lays of Christmas. I absolutely adore the idea behind this playful book – from the blurb:

“Ivy is stuck in a rut. She hasn’t hooked up with anyone since her last terrible relationship ended more than a year ago. That is, until her bff Aoife comes up with a challenge. The Twelve Lays of Christmas: hook up with twelve different people before Christmas Day.”

YES. As someone who is keen to give myself challenges and side quests, I was immediately hooked by the pitch, and then completely enamoured of the extract she sent for me to share with you – it’s sexy, thoughtful, playful and all the things I fucking love about great sex writing. For context, this extract features the eighth person Ivy has hooked up with since the start of the challenge, and we join the story shortly after an encounter with someone who had a fetish for popping balloons. This next guy? Well… he’s into slime. Like, really into it. What I love about this story is not just how fucking joyful it is – reminding any Channel 4 documentary makers out there that you can explore unusual kinks in a non-shaming way – but also the fact that the author, Kirstyn Smith, tells me it’s based on a true story. Enjoy!
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What happens when you go back to someone from your past? Is there such a thing as ‘the one that got away’? When this week’s guest blogger pitched me this post I was positively gleeful about it – she’s got a fabulously funny, chatty style and regular readers will know that I’m a sucker for a trip down memory lane. Not to mention sex with an ex. But is it possible to recapture the magic when you’re having sex with a guy you last saw a decade ago? Let’s find out…

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Partway through a kiss – a good one, a promising one – she breaks off and holds her face close to his. Whispers:

“Just so you know, I don’t fuck on the first date.”

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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.

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“Do you want to make some plans with me?” he asks, all casually playful, as if his name hadn’t just splashed into her inbox like a life ring tossed to a drowning woman. She grasps at it, as if he alone can save her (he cannot). He offers a selection of activities, and each shines bright with promise – a bike ride, a show, dinner, conversations about the book recommendations they’ve been swapping. Plus, of course, sex. She ponders which to pick, knowing the sex will be on offer no matter what they do beforehand, and even though she’s poor in spirit she’s now rich in possibilities. She replies swiftly – picks a fun activity, gives him her availability, then adds: “I am not sure about the sex. I’m feeling very… [big black box of horror that it’s probably best we don’t open] right now. In theory I like the idea though, can we play it by ear?”.

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