On:
In: Audio porn, Filthy ones
An afab person straddles an amab person, leaning over and kissing their neck. Photo.

Right now, I feel disconnected from my body. It’s partly lockdown and partly my depression, but I find it hard to remember that sex feels good until I’m literally pushing a vibrator against my junk. In theory I know that I like being touched and I like sucking dick, but in reality my arousal feels clinical and detached. It feels like my body has forgotten how to be so horny that I can’t think about anything but sex, and I miss it. I miss the overwhelming desire and anticipation I used to feel before a fuck.Read More →

On:
In: Word slut
A desk with an open notebook and cactuses in cute little plant pots. Photo.

I’m a word slut. I write erotica every week, I’m very into sexting, and the fastest way to turn me on is some carefully composed words. I spend a lot of time thinking about the words I want to use to describe sex, so today favourite filthy words about fucking to use this February.Read More →

On:
In: Filthy poetry
Naked chest of someone holding a handful of come out towards the camera. Photo.

Fucking with lube is brilliant. Wanking with lube is brilliant. Lube is brilliant, and should be used in generous helpings whenever needed. Lube is important, but fucking without lube can be a hot idea. And after all, you don’t have to worry about making sure that your sub is lubed up for fucking when their slutty little hole is already full of come.Read More →

On:
In: Filthy ones
A man looks down so his hair covers his face. Photo.

I had such carefully planned filth to share with y’all today… and then got fixated on one particular image and found that my cunt was quite insistent that I shouldn’t write about anything else. Today, I’ve been thinking about how hot it would be to hold someone’s head in place so someone else can fuck their face. Like seriously, mmfff…Read More →

On:
In: Erotica
Hands holding up two chocolate ice creams in waffle cones. Photo.

Sometimes it feels like I am writing the same filthy story, over and over again. The fantasies that loop in my own head evolve slowly, because I linger in each torturously hot thought before it’s replaced. This makes it feel like I’ve written this story – with lots of dirty talk, strong power dynamics, and a hint of consensual non-consent. And because there have been some beautifully warm (or possibly even too hot) days recently, today version of the story is set in an ice-cream parlour. Because yes, I want a good fucking, but I also want ice cream.Read More →