We’re properly spoilt this Halloween with not one but TWO fantastic guest pieces. This gorgeous story is longer than the posts I tend to publish, but when Jaimie (of Jaimie’s Erotica – follow on BlueSky here!) pitched me this I found it simultaneously dreamlike and creepy in equal measure, and I was sucked in to it deeply enough that I reckon a lot of you will be as well. It’s compelling! So bookmark it for later if you’re at work, then grab a cup of tea or glass of wine and settle down for a long read on a dark night…

Note that this is Halloween erotica, and as such it is designed to creep you out as well as arouse you – it contains themes of blood, teeth and devourment.

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Continuing my gleeful excitement for blog posts about ‘first times’, I am over the moon to introduce Scarlet Rose, who is here with a gorgeously descriptive piece that goes in-depth into spectacular physical sensations. As an unapologetic enabler when it comes to sex writing, I always love it when people pitch me and say ‘I am testing the water to see if I might fancy sharing more of my sexy stories’, so please do share this and comment if you feel the same way I do: the world needs more of Scarlet’s beautiful words! Kicking off with a beautifully sensual, intense guest blog about masturbation, check out Scarlet’s account of her first orgasm with a neo vagina.

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Welcome, friends, to my grubby little corner of the internet. A corner so strewn with obscenity that the UK government has decided you must prove you’re a grown-up before you can access certain parts of it. The UK’s new Online Safety Act has come into force, so UK people might have noticed a bunch of websites suddenly demanding you take a selfie, share your credit card details, or jump through another hoop to prove that you’re over 18. Quite a few of my friends have been discussing this in the pub, because for understandable reasons people who aren’t embedded in the world of online pornography or internet law are suddenly curious about why the internet is now so very broken. They’re also often convinced that the government will change its mind and therefore no one really needs to worry. I’ve had this conversation so many times now that I reckon I’ve got the basis for a fairly solid layperson’s guide to age verification: what it is, how it affects you, and why we absolutely, genuinely do need to worry.

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We’re sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, legs entwined. There’s something chill and easy on the telly and I’m enjoying the sensation of his hand stroking up my thigh. He moves his palms in measured, predictable strokes. From my bare knee, up and over the fabric of my shorts to the top, and then back again. My skin tingles and my cunt starts to ache.

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Almost every guy I have ever dated has told me that if they had tits themselves, they’d spend all day just staring at and playing with them. I am not getting ready to snark, or shame anyone for saying this, in fact I completely understand. Tits are fucking awesome. The thing that makes me horniest about my own body is the excellent rack stuck to the front of it. Although I don’t spend all day groping them or staring (I’m a busy girl), I do spend a fairly sizeable chunk of my time being aware of them – enjoying how they look and feel – so I thought I’d have a go at answering the unspoken question hovering beneath all those comments from all those past boyfriends. Here’s what it feels like to have tits.

Note: I’m a cis woman who has mostly dated cis dudes. I’ve tried not to be too gendered in this because tits are not exclusive to one gender, but my perspective is naturally coloured by my experiences. 

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