The second I walk in the door, he’s all over me. Soft lips and firm hands. Rummaging under my clothes and kissing me passionately, before I’ve even had the chance to take off my boots or unclip the panniers from my bike. It’s hurried, urgent, eager. Exactly as I’d seen it in my idle daydreams. I’ve been thinking on this for the last two days, ever since the possibility of it was first floated. A tentative ‘if you’re in the mood for sexy ideas…’ followed by a fantasy of such powerful dominance and laser-targeted kink accuracy it had me squirming in wet knickers at my desk. You bet I’m in the mood. How are you fixed for Sunday? 

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Today’s wonderful guest blogger was introduced to me by fellow sex blogger Sundial – one of the things that’s really cool about sex blogging is when you see other people going ‘ooh I could do that!’ and picking up the baton to write smut of their own. So I’m delighted to introduce D34U with a creative piece of erotic fiction all about good people getting just rewards: a turn at the glory hole, in recognition of their good work. If you enjoy this piece, click the link to follow D34U on Mastodon and check out some of his other work on Sundial’s blog too – a vampiric Halloween tale and a fantasy about a wife’s first threesome. In the meantime… have you been good? Like ‘human rights lawyer’ or ‘doctor without borders’ good? Then you might be eligible for a turn at the glory hole on the Phoenix Manor Volunteer Appreciation Day…

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This stunningly hot Christmas story about an MMF threesome (Santa, pls note, I want one of these in my stocking – GOTN) is written and read by the fabulous Sherryl Blu.

Christmas in the corporate world was always a pretty standard affair. As the executive assistant for the office, in the weeks leading up there would be a steady stream of edible goodies plonked on the desk in front of me. It always attracted a crowd of employees throughout the day. It would be boxes of quality street, Heroes, Roses and… mince pies. There was always mince pies, lots of them because most people didn’t seem to like them. Then there was the not-obligatory-but-if-you-didnt-go-you-would-get-frowned-upon work Christmas lunch and of course the piece de resistance…the Christmas party. It was pretty much the event of the year – highly publicised and often talked about for months afterward.

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For as long as I’ve known that some men are into feet, I have wanted one to come all over mine. Masturbate while looking at them then squirt jizz out – covering my skin and dribbling in between my toes. I don’t think I have a foot fetish myself, but I do get off on fulfilling other people’s desires, especially if they sit outside of what the world thinks an average fuck might look like. So the mental image of a guy kneeling over me to cover my feet in cum has been one that, now stuck in my head, has resolutely refused to disappear.

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I did my hair nicely today. I wanted you to love the way it looks so much you’d grab a fistful and yank my head in for a biting kiss. I feel pretty today, I made myself pretty today. And I only did it because I want you to fuck me up.

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