I’ve started this blog post again and again, but kept getting distracted by buying butt plugs or watching porn or talking to sexy people about equally sexy things. I enjoy flirting, and I feel like there’s been a lot of it today, so tonight I’m sharing a silly, fun, filthy poem about sexting.
Author: Quinn Rhodes
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Ode to sexting
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What to wear on a date with your crush and his wife
A few weeks ago, I went on a date. Dinner at a lovely restaurant, a playful argument over who was paying, and a walk through a London’s beautiful streets in the cooling air. It was brilliant. There was some flirting, some teasing, and – on my part anyway – some blushing. They’re both wonderful, clever, attractive-as-fuck people: one of them I want to be like when I’m older, and one of them who I want to fuck right now.
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You can’t tell lies with a cock in your mouth
To me, the idea of saying “you cannot tell lies with a cock in your mouth, little girl” was incredibly hot when I first thought of it. Trying to write a story to use that line in, though, proved a challenge. The end result is a consensual non-consent-y story, featuring a struggle-fuck blow-job in a dirty alley way.
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I fall in love every day (kinda)
This week’s “think piece” is late because I was in the wonderful position of having to pick the top five photos for the Sinful Sunday round-up this week. This is definitely an example of writing-as-therapy, because my thoughts and feelings developed even as I was writing this. In fact, it kind of surprised me by going off in two very different directions, both of which need to be, and will be, explored in much greater detail.
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Sleeper train slut
With half a dozen of filthy stories sitting half-written in my drafts, I’m glad that I was set a writing assignment by a very pretty girl – essentially domming me into actually finishing a blog post. She tasked me to write about wanking or fucking on the sleeper train, and seemed delighted when I proposed the following fantasy…