fact or fiction
Learn the truth about common myths. Are they fact or fiction? In-depth explanations of the questions everyone asks and few know the answer to.
Mia Malkova Mother: Understanding The Influences On Her Life And Career
Mia Malkova is a prominent figure in the adult film industry known for her captivating performances and engaging personality However behind every successful individual lies a story including the influ
By Dena Falken Esq6 days ago in Filthy
Queen's Knight
What I noticed most was the way his fingers held the microphone before he spoke. It was a firm grip, and he placed it into the position that he wanted without hesitation. After that, when his hands moved, I was captivated by his caressing of the notebook pages when he recited his poetry. Then his fingertips stroked the paper, and I caught my breath. No, no, he wasn't caressing them, I imagined it, wanted to think of him gently touching...me. Now, all four fingers on the mic stand, slightly splayed, his entire hand visible. Strong hands, and I knew he was speaking, pouring words over the audience, yet all I could see and feel was his hands. My own hand had been barely resting against my throat, and dropped to the front of my blouse, my thumb grazing my erect nipple. I bit back the moan, and held my breath, and his gaze rested on me as he ended the second poem. His face lit up, and he strode towards me, never breaking eye contact. My heart hammered, and I felt a rush of arousal when I saw the way he looked at me. The vibe washed over me like a tidal wave, but I told myself I must be projecting. I must. “You came,” he said, “just as you said you would.”
By LP Steinbeckabout a month ago in Filthy
Humiliation Made Me Submissive . Content Warning.
October 28th (Later) The party was a dying animal. Its pulse, the music, had slowed to a thrumming, melancholic love song from a decade ago. The roar of a hundred conversations had dwindled to the low murmur of the last few stragglers, the clinking of bottles collected by the help, the weary groans of furniture being shifted. The air in the main hall was stale, a graveyard of spilled drinks, shattered papadum, and exhausted perfume.
By Chahat Kaur3 months ago in Filthy
Meeting My Ex At A Party. Content Warning.
The Balcony October 28th I saw him across a sea of familiar-unfamiliar faces, and for a second, the last five years didn't just vanish; they were violently erased. The air, thick with the smell of tandoori kebabs, spilled whiskey, and too much perfume, went thin. The bass of the bhangra track thumping from the speakers inside seemed to sync with a sudden, hard pulse in my throat.
By Chahat Kaur3 months ago in Filthy
Celeb Fun. Content Warning.
My eyes widened as I continued to listen to you, hearing you out as best as I could while looking towards you, seeing you scoot yourself closer to me. "You wanna spend more time with me? Just, with me and nobody else?" I say quietly, hearing you talk about how close you want the two of us to be. "I.. you? Want to be close to me? How.. close, are you thinking?"
By Forest Green3 months ago in Filthy
Writing Gay Taboo Erotica
Most people write love stories to be understood. I write the ones people are afraid to admit they want. There’s something electric about that, about stepping into a story that society would rather you not tell. The kind that carries both heat and shame, longing and defiance. The kind that makes people whisper, then secretly read every word.
By Julian Kane3 months ago in Filthy
My Bf - Small Dick. Content Warning.
October 12th I’m writing this down because if I don’t, I think my skin might just split open from the pressure of keeping it all inside. My name is Anya, I’m twenty-four, and I live in a shared apartment in a dusty, loud, beautiful corner of South Delhi. And I have a secret that is so loud, it’s a wonder the entire neighbourhood can’t hear it screaming in the silence between my heartbeats.
By Chahat Kaur3 months ago in Filthy
She booked for a massage but he & his friend wanted so much more. Content Warning.
The rain started just as I pulled up to the address. Not a gentle, romantic drizzle, but a hard, angry downpour that hammered against the roof of my old Volvo. The wipers slapped back and forth, frantic, doing little to clear the view of the iron gate and the sleek, modern monstrosity of a house behind it.
By Chahat Kaur4 months ago in Filthy
Ditched for ER
Emily walked into the bedroom and was stunned by the elaborate romantic setup: rose petals on the floor around the bed, pink heart-shaped candles burning the rose and magnolia smell, and soft romantic music in the background, with the great Barry White crooning at the moment. On the bed, there was a new apricot-colored lingerie set that included a laced bra, panties, and a delicate translucent robe.
By Lana V Lynx4 months ago in Filthy
My Girlfriend Was Alone. Content Warning.
The leather of the journal is cool and smooth under my palms. It’s late. The kind of late where the world outside my window has gone quiet, save for the occasional sigh of a car on wet pavement. This lamp casts a warm, guilty pool of light, and my pen feels like the only thing tethering me to this planet. I have to write this down. If I don’t, I think the memory might burn a hole through me. It’s not just a story; it’s an echo in my bones, a hum under my skin. Last night. God, last night.
By Chahat Kaur4 months ago in Filthy
