Let Me Be Tiny—And Wanted There is something holy about being held in a palm.Not as possession. Not as property. But as offering. Think of it—your cock, your breath, your trembling want—cradled like a secretkept safebecause it is small. There’s…
Softness That Demands to Be Kissed They were the first thing I noticed. Not his lips. Not his cock. Not the way his hands hovered near my hip like he already knew the curve. No—it was his collarbones. Sharp. Soft.…
Shame, Truth, and Rewriting Desire It starts before the first kiss.Before the first undoing of a belt.Before you even know what wanting is—this whisper you carry, silent as a bruise:Don’t be small. That myth, honeyed and hollow, presses itself into…
Power, Weight, Press The first time he pinned me down, it wasn’t with arms. It was with his thighs. Solid. Relentless. The way they pressed into the mattress—one on either side of my ribs—left me no place to go, no…
Body dysmorphia in men There are mirrors I won’t look at.Not because they lie—but because they don’t. There’s a silence in reflection that isn’t kind. It’s clinical. Honest in the way a scalpel is honest. And some days, that sharpness…
The Erotic Language of Men’s Feet There are love letters hiding in a man’s feet. You just have to get low enough to read them. We talk about hands, yes. The way they grip, cradle, press.Jawlines, of course. The cut…
Writing a character with a small dick A love letter to the body that isn’t big—but is still enough Some characters arrive like storms.Loud. Demanding. All jawline and hunger.They don’t knock.They don’t wait.They just are—fully-formed—and dare you to catch up.…
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