Welcome to On Queer Street, the sex blog of journalist, sex writer, and Renowned Transsexual Quinn Rhodes. Here you’ll find nudes, porn writing, and essays about sex, love, and relationships.
Nowadays, Quinn’s most regular writing happens on his newsletter – you can subscribe to Genderbent to get essays about gender, transmasculinity, and mental illness delivered directly to your inbox.
For Quinn’s journalism, please check out his portfolio. You can find (and buy!) his physical porn zines at Gender Neutral Urinal Press.
(more…)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.
I feel like I’ve been really personal with the most recent handful of filth I’ve shared: I’m not only writing about things that I find desperately hot, but about what I’m desperate for my play partners to do to me right now. This week’s intimate craving is very specific, and I hope I’ve captured how tense my body is with hunger right now. A hunger for you to fuck me with your words and make me work for your cock.
I’ve been taken notes of brilliant content I’ve consumed (or, more accurately, inhaled) this month, so I thought writing a round-up of July’s best sex-positive shit would be fairly easy. And then I had a stupidly-fucking-long week, wherein I both moved flats and had a mental illness bump (to put it mildly)… all of which leads to a late (and also short) Share Our Shit
SaturdaySunday post.
Libraries are sacred places to me – they always have been. But their sacredness makes any potential sex that might happen in them even hotter – it’s illicit because it’s forbidden. If you’re in a library, you shouldn’t be fucking. You shouldn’t jerk off while muffling your moans by biting down on your first. You shouldn’t spread your legs and try to pretend you’re reading the book in front of you while someone pushes their fingers inside you. You shouldn’t get down on your knees so you can choke on cock.
I love wearing boxers. I own a couple of pairs myself, and am always delightfully aware of my body when I slip them on before pulling on jeans. Boxers make me feel sexy and powerful in a way that the underwear I wear every day doesn’t, and I love the thrill it gives me. They allow me to fuck with gender and societal expectations in a way that I get off on, as well just making me hot because they make me think about sex all. day. long. But there’s something even dirtier (and thus delicious) about wearing my fuck buddy’s boxers.