I did my hair nicely today. I wanted you to love the way it looks so much you’d grab a fistful and yank my head in for a biting kiss. I feel pretty today, I made myself pretty today. And I only did it because I want you to fuck me up.

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1. It’s been a long time since I’ve fucked anyone with a strap on, so there’s an element of novelty. I’ve half forgotten how it feels to slide inside. I’m keen to remember.

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The other day you asked me “what’s so hot about men in fishnet tights?” and I don’t think I gave a good answer. I nodded when you asked if it was something to do with them being ‘femme’, implying that men in fishnets are hot purely because they’re fucking with gender norms. That’s part of it, but it’s not the whole truth because your question took me by surprise so I had no words. Forgive me, I was distracted by the fact that you were wearing them at the time: naked save for black net that clung to your thighs and cupped your junk in ways that trashed my attention. Today I want to try and give a much more accurate answer. What’s hot about men in fishnets? Let me count the ways…

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I’m not entirely sure how I’d sum up my brand of writing, but whatever my ‘style’ is, it’s pretty far from ‘a whimsical 2000 word tentacle porn story’. Nevertheless, that’s what you’re getting today. The following is something I wrote in 2020 after a Zoom call with Patreons where they gave me prompts for erotic stories by suggesting a name/kink/location/object that I had to work into a piece of erotic fiction. I find these stories challenging (in a fun way), because it’s good to push myself sometimes to think about stuff I wouldn’t normally get horny for. You can find some of the improv erotica stories here on the site for free, and even more improv erotica on Patreon if you’d like to join. But if you just want to read a whimsical 2000-word tentacle porn story that I think might own the title of ‘most challenging thing I’ve ever written’, then hoo boy are you in luck.

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He’s pretty quiet in bed, so I’ve become used to turning up the perception dial on all the senses I use to tell whether someone’s enjoying themselves. Most notably when I’m sucking his dick or giving him a gentle hand job. I listen more intensely for the softer sounds he makes, and have trained myself to hone in on those little moments when his breath catches: if I tease the head of his cock with lubed-up fingers, for instance, or get the pressure and speed of a particular stroke just right. I place my hands on his thighs or hips, where the muscles sometimes tense as things start to build, or I press my whole body against his, to get an even better idea of how my moves are being received. I check in with plenty of ‘is this good?’s and the occasional specific question like ‘tell me which is better… gentle or firm?’. It’s a far cry from someone’s hands gripping my hair and shoving my throat onto their cock or loud moans telling me what a filthy slut I am, but I’m getting used to these quieter, softer responses. I’ve started to tune in to the subtle shifts in how he tells me he’s having a good time. So when I introduced this subtle guy to a sexual feedback technique for shy people, the fact that he used it – and the way that he used it – made me drench my knickers in an instant.

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