You know how, when you go to look up a recipe online, most of the recipes are interwoven with some tangential story about the chef’s life? Have you ever read one of those and thought ‘man, I wish there was a version of this kind of recipe-blogging but instead of being whimsical and wholesome it was outrageously horny?’. Well have I got the guest blog for you! This stunningly sexy post – with accompanying recipe for cinnamon rolls – is by Tess, who has written some gorgeous guest blogs here before. One about she and her wife having the best sex of their lives, and another about gaming while the Hot Octopuss Pulse dispenses incredibly-distracting orgasms. You’re probably thinking ‘wow, how can she top either of these?’ and the answer is ‘with flour, butter, sugar, and some intensely powerful sex.’ Enjoy!

The recipe is real, by the way. Even if you don’t have a loved one to get cum-sticky with right now, you can absolutely make some cinnamon rolls. 

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This stunning piece is part 5 in a series written and read by Sundial. You can catch up on parts 1-4 here (and you totally should because they are fire). Note that this story contains total humiliation and begging. Extremely consensual, of course. 

I didn’t bother dressing for dinner. We’re sitting at the table, just finishing off. You’re fully dressed, him in just his briefs and me perched on a towel on the bench, because, well, you know.

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This stunning lazy Sunday threesome is written and read by Sundial. 

The sun kissing my feet, the window open wide letting light stream a diagonal line over the mussed up whiteness of the sheets. Your arm around me, pulling me closer to you. I lift my head onto your chest and I let my hand stray down and find your hardness in all its glory, straining against my palm. I grip and squeeze your shaft.

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If you’d rather hear this one read aloud, join my Patreon (at any tier) and go to this update: it starts at 14:45. If you want to catch up with the trilogy (though it’s not necessary to read them in order), here’s part 1 (cunt) and part 2 (ass). This is part 3 (mouth), and it’s my favourite. 

Shagging new people isn’t just a question of teaching them how I like to be touched, or which words make me squirm with desire. Sometimes I find myself having to school men on the basics, like ‘it’s not shameful if you can’t get hard’ or ‘you’re allowed to take some time to get comfortable before I start sucking your dick’. New guys often behave like sex is this thing which must be done correctly, immediately, or they’ll somehow lose points. This isn’t a criticism, my dudes, it’s understandable that some of you have taken this message from society, because society’s been shrieking bullshit at you for ages, telling you that this is how sex works. It even uses words like ‘performance’ when trying to sell you boner pills, as if fucking is a production you’re putting on, and I’m just the audience who will sit there and applaud.

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Fucking doesn’t usually work by just ticking off your desires in order, like crossing items from your shopping list once you’ve put them in your basket. But talking about ideas in the downtime, or the afterglow of the previous shag, can help plant seeds for the future. We don’t have enough time together, me and this guy. Not nearly enough. And because we are acutely aware of this fact, it turns out that both of us have been making mental lists of possibilities. Lying on the bed after our first cunt-ruining fuck of this 24 hour hangout, he reveals that he’s even made notes on his phone. Scattered ideas from flash-frame images he’s wanked on since the last time we hung out.

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