This fabulous erotic fiction about deep throating the boss is written and read by Sherryl Blu. Note that this story plays with boss/employee power dynamics and includes some hints of reluctance.

I didn’t usually find myself in the lift with my boss first thing in the morning. He was either in before me or he came in after lunch. Never would we arrive at the same time. But this morning, it would appear we were synchronised.

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This post talks about fucking-like-it’s-fighting, so if you’re not into BDSM/role play/violence it might not be your thing, please don’t read on. I hope those of you who do like this sort of thing will understand why it was so fun for me to write. 

I wanna fucking fight you. Want to spit in your mouth and bite and scratch and kick. I want to pummel your chest with my fists while you hold me down. Call you names so hurtful that you wonder if this is still play. I want to be an evil little brat.

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This gorgeous quickie erotica is written by Cara Thereon, read here by Girl on the Net. 

“Bit hot tonight, aren’t ya?”

She ignored his talking and pressed his back against the door so she could get to work on his clothes. He’d come straight from work, clad in a suit and smelling of sandalwood and coffee. The quickness of his reply to her text said he was just as interested, but all he’d done since she’d pull him into her apartment was talk.

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Fishnet tights.

I know, they’re obvious. They’re easy. They’re prone to laddering. But they’re hot. And I can’t wear fishnets to this day without thinking about urgent, spit-lubed buttsex. Here’s why.

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We all like this, right? Saliva? It’s nature’s lube. It occurred to me this morning, as I was giving a boy a sayonara blow job before I ran off home, that it’s not just good because it makes things wet – it’s the sound of it, too. And the look and the sensation and – oh, everything. I fucking love spit.

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