This delicious erotic story about fucking in a tube station is written by Nooky, and originally appeared on her website. It is read here by Girl on the Net.
It’s the last tube home, or almost. They’ve drunk enough beer that they haven’t kept track, not quite. Their stop is far enough out, a backwater on a bit of the Central that feels almost bucolic, that no one else gets off except a little old lady in a mauve peacoat who walks slowly off towards the lift.
I’m excited to welcome Ariadne this week, who is here to talk to you about discovering her sexual self with an escort. Since the age of 18, Ariadne had a condition called vaginismus, where the vaginal muscles contract in reaction to any kind of penetration. It is estimated that it affects 2 in every 1000 people, although it is still not commonly discussed. Ariadne’s post is about how her time with an escort helped her to discover sex she truly loved. Although not on Twitter, she is keen to help spread awareness around Vaginismus and would like to direct anyone who’d like to know more to The Vaginismus Network.
Most of what I write is true. But ‘Truth’ itself is much more slippery. Truth with a capital T can never come from the mouth of a single person, and it never comes in the form of a story, because the act of telling a story involves shaping and curating truth: picking which bits stay in and which bits get cut. What makes a story, when it comes to non-fiction, isn’t Truth but perspective.
This gorgeous cock worship erotica – which includes themes of degradation – is written and read by Quenby, and originally appeared on their blog.
Cock worship and cumsluttery
As soon as we step through the door our hands are on each other. Pulling off clothes, touching and feeling, our hands made clumsy with lust. He grabs my throat and pins me against the wall, I squeak in surprise, then blush as he chuckles at my reaction. Our mouths meet in a filthy kiss, all open mouths and tongues, hunger and arousal. I melt against his body, surrendering myself to his control.
“He picked me up,” I tell her and she says “Ooh! He picked you up?!” and both of us grin because we know – we know – the pickup is a pretty sexy move. We also both know that, while I may be many things, ‘small’ is not one of them. I am not easily pick-uppable. Nevertheless, this guy picked me up and threw me onto the bed. Hot.