Places can have a really special resonance in our lives. When I travel around my hometown, I can’t help but remember different locations by the sexy things I used to do there. Sometimes the simple act of visiting a particular place is enough to bring back a flood of memories. And often, just reading about the resonance certain places have for other people is enough to send me off on a mental journey through all the places I once loved and fucked. This week’s guest blog, by Lauren, is a gorgeous story about exactly this, and it made me cry.

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This week’s guest author lives on a narrowboat, and is writing about fucking on a narrowboat. Because there isn’t easy access to a computer, Sara drafted this post in an email and sent it on to me for editing. I couldn’t bear to edit too much of it, because I think the breathless, raw tone adds a lot to the eroticism of the writing. The confined space, the eagerness to fuck, and the pure and simple pleasure of the experience. Enjoy!

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As snow falls on the ground outside, she reaches out to him in the darkness and whispers: “Talk to me. Tell me something sexy.” He shifts a little to draw her closer, pressing his warm skin against her own. Bringing his lips close to her face, he ponders the things most likely to turn her on.

“I’ve finished writing all the Christmas cards,” he says. “All you need to do is sign them.”

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I miss the house parties I used to go to when I was younger. The casual group of people gathering to drink, which turns into a few more people, a bit more music, maybe some drinking games and… sex. Not group sex, necessarily, just ‘I’m really horny is there a room we can go into to fuck?’ sex. Sex that started with a giggling suggestion and wolf-whistles and ‘get a room!’s. Sex that ended by checking someone else’s parents’ bedsheets for spunk.

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