Apologies for the diary-style update, team: I’m quite poorly at the moment and my ability to blog and edit properly has fallen by the wayside along with my ability to breathe through my nose and, occasionally, stand up. My body is conspiring to try and spoil my time at SQIFF, but I am glad to say it has not yet succeeded. Here is a taste of some of the awesome things I’ve been up to here in Glasgow at the Scottish Queer International Film Festival.

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I’m obsessed, at the moment, with cum. Massive quantities of it. The sensation of it on my skin and the pulsing twitch of someone’s dick as they dump a huge load of cum deep inside me. When we’re fucking these days, I can’t resist begging for it: I want your cum; fill me with cum; give me your cum; please, cum.

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When I think of chastity, usually I picture it as something that one person is imposing on another. In the past, the closest I’ve come to chastity play is telling partners not to come for a few days before they next see me, so they can give me a huge load of spunk. So when this week’s guest blogger got in touch to pitch a piece about self-imposed chastity, I was really intrigued. Meet Thomas, who’s here with a fantastic guest blog explaining how self-imposed chastity significantly improved his life…

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Extra-special guest blog for you all today: the Smutathon 2019 team are here with a seriously sexy story for a really important cause. Enjoy their fabulous work and donate to this year’s chosen charity using the links below! 

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I never used to fantasise about sniffing underwear. Even during my horniest moments, when I was in the early stages of learning what turned me on, and discovering the answer was ‘everything’, it never occurred to me to try and get hold of a guy’s underwear and hold it over my face, breathing in the heady scent of his cock. Until one day, a boy I was in love with came to visit, and left his underwear behind when he departed…

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