James pushed me against the wall, one of his palms lifting my thigh as he slid two of his fingers inside me. He harshly moved his fingers in and out, his eyes watching every expression on my face as I was trying to understand what I felt.
“Yeah, you like it?” he whispered, his fingers continuing the work. “You’re so wet.”
Indeed, I was wet and turned on. But not by his long fingers sliding in and out of me. In fact, I couldn’t tell if I felt anything much from the fingering itself at all.
So, I decided that…
“Blood is thicker than water.”
You hear people say how important family is, how their love is absolute, and there are no other people in the whole world who love you more and who will always be there for you.
But what if your family is toxic, and instead of helping you and making you a better human being, their love is suffocating you?
When it comes to relationships, we’ve become more aware of the signs that determine what is toxic. And while we still have a long way to go, it’s becoming more common to leave the toxic person.
I was having a cigarette with my best guy friend during one of the endless high-school parties I would find myself at almost every weekend.
We were standing in the small room at the very corner of my friend’s parents’ garage, where the dedicated smoking area was. It was cold, but we were laughing and chatting our night away.
This friend of mine was the nice guy in our group. He wasn’t the most handsome one, but he was considered a “gentleman” according to the standards we had for men ten years ago. And he was charming and sweet.
I remember the night I met Shawn like it was yesterday.
Piccadilly Circus was packed, bustling with life as my best friend and I made our way through the square to the bus stop. As we approached the busy strip of box offices and nightclubs, a man approached us.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome. I immediately felt the attraction to him, and fortunately for me, he felt it too.
While my best friend chatted with a random guy she had just met five minutes ago, I stood in the middle of Piccadilly Circus with Shawn, giving in to the…
The most common advice I see people give to freelancers online is to build your personal brand so that clients come to you. Now, this is not advertised as the strategy to get you started with freelance writing, but it’s sold as the ultimate goal of every freelancer.
We, as writers, want to be good enough and famous enough so that brands would be lining up in front of our doors, just waiting for a chance to work with us. Everyone tells you that once clients start reaching out to you, you’ll know that you’ve made it.
But is that…
Raise your hand if, at one point or another in your life, you were ashamed of the way your body looks, your sexuality and sexual preferences, or the sex itself?
I can see a forest of hands rising, even though it’s just me and my computer screen right now.
I’m raising my own hand.
Shame seems to be the main companion to everything surrounding sex and sexuality. …
I can still remember those hot summer evenings at my grandparent’s summer house, where I used to spend my school breaks reading cheap smutty romances.
You know, those cheap romances, where a heroine would be a secretary to a hot alpha-male, the heir to the Elliot family empire? Or where a girl would meet a rich, handsome sheik who would literally pleasure her in his limousine with his fingers, and she would come without even taking her pants off?
Ah, sweet, sweet nostalgia.
But really, I grew up reading those erotic novels, in secret and in shame, only sharing it…
I was sixteen years old when I had my very first full-on make-out session with a boy.
It wasn’t my first kiss — but only at the age of 16, I finally got a taste of what a proper make-out session was, and I understood why people are so obsessed with kissing.
It was also when I found out that a certain amount of pain and a touch of roughness turns me on. So do giving and receiving hickeys.
A few months back, I was writing a massive amount of articles for one of my sex clients about BDSM. Those…
So, the other week I was writing an article for a client about slow sex. While researching the topic, I got very enthralled with the idea of trying slow sex myself.
But you see, there is a problem — I’m not in a relationship and don’t have a man on hand for that sort of experimentation.
And because we’re in the middle of a global pandemic, I can’t really go and fetch myself a partner from around the corner for a one night of romance, you know?
So, I added slow sex on the list of things to try once…