Introducing Jenby’s guest blogs makes me feel like a lowly intern announcing the arrival of the CEO: her adventures are as creative as her writing is exquisite, and I am always in awe of both. She’s the most prolific guest blogger here on the site, as well as almost certainly the kinkiest person I have ever met. Just this year she’s already told us about some fun (and romantic) sharps’ play, her first ever nyotaimori scene, and getting railed at an orgy while dressed as Marie Antoinette. I was telling a friend just this morning about Jenby’s recent hucow episode, in which she was literally milked in front of a lucky audience at a club, and my friend (herself no stranger to deliciously creative pervery) exclaimed in wonder – with wide, excited eyes – that she had just learned an awesome brand new thing. I am always honoured that Jenby brings this thrill of deviant discovery to my blog. Today she is here with another kickass story, and this one’s all about sweat. Buckets and buckets and buckets of it. Open wide.

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This gorgeous story about sex and sweat is written and read by Robyn of RobynEatsEverything. Note: this is a work of fiction and a fantasy scenario; please don’t approach Robyn in the gym.

As I lift my arms up above my head, I feel a stream of cool sweat trickling down the nape of my neck, finding a cleft in my skin in which to swim lower between my shoulder blades, the small of my back, and into the gape of my leggings to the valley between my cheeks. The dampness of my skin would suggest the aircon in the gym isn’t working today; there’s no frigid breeze relieving my cherry-red cheeks. Working through this set, I’m more aware of other little streams crawling down my body and pooling in the most uncomfortable places; under my tits, my arse, under my belly, between my thighs.

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This gorgeous tour through dirty thoughts about summer fucking is written by Quinn Rhodes, and originally appeared on hir website. It is read here by Girl on the Net.

It’s summer, and all I can think about is fucking. Even when it’s too hot to fuck, the heat just seems to be making me more and more horny. My mind is filled with filthy thoughts and I’ve pulled a few of these together to share with y’all here, in lieu of a blog post that requires me to think of coherent points. I’m far too turned on for that.

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Dunno about you but here at GOTN HQ it’s been a pretty sweaty week. I have stuck to every chair I’ve sat on, and broken my personal record of ‘number of cold showers in a day.’ At the time of writing, it still has not rained. Please enjoy this perspiration-focused erotica about some seriously sweaty fucking, written because I am desperate to turn this cloyingly-icky-humidity-sweat into lovely, wholesome fucksweat. 

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The other day I tiptoed into the bedroom while he was napping in the afternoon. He was naked. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead in the baking June heatwave. His chest hair stuck to his skin and he had a slight frown on his face, as if – in his sleep – he was trying to solve a difficult problem. His cock stood out hard and proud away from his body, almost straight up in the air, inviting me to slide down onto it and fuck him in the sticky haze of summer.

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