Today I have some this-might-actually-be filthy poetry for y’all, featuring scrambled eggs, unshaved legs, and some memories of past fucks.Read More →

Today is a filthy poetry day, because I couldn’t concentrate to writing yesterday – I was filled with anticipation for the evening’s sex date, which itself was filled with twisted adventures. It was an interlude, with cocks, and it was delightful. And now I really need to go and wash my hair!Read More →

I’ve spent a lot of the past week or so thinking about gender-fuckery and how to look as queer as possible. Yesterday, I celebrated Fishnet Friday and wore a new t-shirt – pursuing a queer-punk look. Apparently my word choice revealed that I’m a Dildorks podcast listener in this being-teased-in-public story, and I am borrowing their gender-neutral word again for this poem.Read More →

This isn’t the filthy story of pirate sex, and even though it’s tagged as filthy poetry I’m not sure its very sexy. I wanted to write some delightfully hot words, but there were others I wanted to say first. These words are I’m sorry and you’re brilliant and I’d like to kiss you, and never one to be concise, I wrote a poem to say them.Read More →

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.Read More →