I’ve had these adorable Hot Octopuss nipple pegs sitting in my slut kit for months. When they launched their range of BDSM toys, HO (who sponsor my site, so if you buy from them you’re supporting my work etc etc) kindly emailed me to see if there was anything I’d like to try out, and obviously I leapt on the opportunity to use my job perks to chat up a hot boy. I sent the link on to Bracelet Game and asked him to pick something fun. ‘Check out these kinky objects – with what do you fancy ruining me?’ A week or so later these lovely silver nipple pegs appeared in the post.

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This real life story about cheeky kisses (and more) in public is written by the fabulous Victoria Blisse, and originally appeared on her website. It is read aloud here by Sherryl Blu.

We met online a year ago. Dating app. Swiped on a cutie with a wickedly sweet smile and a profile that drew my attention. To my joy, it was a mutual like and we soon moved to social media, chatting about allsorts but with this rippling lust running as a tightening cord between us.

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I know it’s only November, but I need to get Christmas cards ordered now, and I also need to do some Patreon plugging if I’m going to keep the lights on at GOTN HQ when 2023 rolls in. Those of you who’ve been here a while will know that each year Stuart – who draws the gorgeous illustrations that add so much beauty to this site – draws a special sexy Christmas card that I send out to Patreons to say thanks for supporting my work. If you’d like one, sign up now and you can also join us for the hangout on November 20th.

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Note: references to grief, death and eating. Also, this is honestly not my best. Better Halloween erotica is available on the blog tag.

I feed off your dreams. You knew that, right? But did you know that each dream tastes different? The happy ones are bland and shining. Joy tastes like ashes in my mouth – the bad dreams are where it’s at. The giant spiders chasing you through Covent Garden. Infinite, unwakeable scenes of drowning. Delicious.

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The first time I kissed a boy was in Geography class at school. We’d been swimming together with friends the weekend before, and he and I had flirted in the way that 13-year-olds do: by splashing each other and then rapidly swimming away, whispering to friends that we fancied each other and hoping those friends would understand their role as ‘messenger.’ I assume this is how most first kisses happen: friends are pivotal in their creation.

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