A couple's legs are visible from where they're fucking on the floor. Their clothes lie in the foreground. Photo.

This post was originally written for Smutathon 2020, where intrepid sex writers from around the world spent twelve hours writing filth to raise money for Endometriosis UK. I didn’t end up writing much smut but we did reach our filthy fundraising goal, which is awesome. This piece features anonymous (ish) university sex and seven fucks.Read More →

A metallic-gold tube of The Butters Hygienics zit zapper sits in front of a framed print. Photo.

I am not a beauty blogger. When The Butters Hygienics Co. offered to send me their Zit Zapper Anti-Acne Face Cream, I made it clear to them that I had absolutely no idea how to review it. While I know nothing about skin-care products – I don’t even know whether my skin is dry or oily! – I was in the middle of a particularly bad spot outbreak and was eager to get my hands on it.Read More →

A Black amab person and a white amab person kiss passionately. Photo.

There’s a guy I haven’t fucked, but who I’ve thought about fucking. I’ve thought about fucking him a lot. Because I haven’t fucked him yet, I dream about fucking him: filthy, explicit dreams that leave me waking up hot and horny, grinding my junk into the sheets in search of friction. Last night I didn’t just dream about this boy but about two of his friends as well. Two of his best friends, who helped me fuck him. For the purpose of this story, let’s call them S and C, because I want to talk about how hot it was to watch the boy getRead More →

A laptop, headphones and coffee cup on a red background. Photo.

I feel like I blinked and September vanished – a whole month of 2020 flashing before my eyes as I made big life decisions and tried to write even one piece of sex-positive shit for Smutathon. Smutathon, for those of you who don’t know, is a twelve-hour, smut-writing marathon where sex writers from around the world come together to fundraise through creating filth. It’s a brilliant event, and it means I have loads of sex positive shit to share with y’all.Read More →

A young Black woman lies on bare sheets, clutching a pillow to her chest. Photo.

I’ve written about this before. It feels like this is all I write about right now – that I cannot create anything of worth to anyone else and I just keep spilling out self-indulgent essays on how I can’t stop thinking about suicide. In reality it isn’t, it’s the fucked up fog of lockdown and depression that twists time until I’m convinced that I only just wrote about this. And even if it wasn’t, I’m still allowed to write about it. It’s my blog, even if being a suicidal sex writer feels very off brand.Read More →

An afab person sits on a sofa in a denim jacket and a navy t-shirt reading 'smut positive'. Their hand is down their knickers, wanking. Photo.

Today is Smutathon 2020, which means I’m currently eight hours into an epic filth-writing marathon. Although I’m not spending too much time with my hand in my knickers today – there’s too much smut to write! – I am wearing my smut positive t-shirt.Read More →