Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Filthy.
Celeb Fun
The scent of aged paper and fresh coffee was my usual sanctuary, but today, something new electrified the air of "The Written Word." It was Amanda. I'd seen her around the neighborhood, a fleeting glance or two, but never liked me. She was in the mystery section, perched on a rolling ladder, her back to me. The low-cut jeans were a revelation, a perfect frame for the curve of her hips as she reached for a dusty tome on the top shelf. The white t-shirt, stretched just so under the denim jacket, hinted at the soft swell of her breasts.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Filthy
Celeb Fun
Liam’s eyes darkened, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. He reached out, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her jaw. “Maybe,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “the unfinished stuff is just a preview. A warm-up act for the main event.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “And maybe, just maybe, seeing what’s in this box will inspire me to finish everything.”
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Filthy
Class 5 Clinger
When I first moved into my apartment, I made the most of it; it was my first time living on my own. Before, when I'd stayed with my grandma, I had maybe two sexual encounters a year - oral, mostly. Ten years of only two hookups a year is torture when you're a horny young man who just so happens to have major agoraphobia and anxiety in new places.
By Gabriel Bradshaw about a month ago in Filthy
Celeb Fun
The air in "The Velvet Echo" hummed with a low, electric thrum, a mix of expensive whiskey, hushed conversations, and the barely perceptible beat of a live jazz quartet. Liam had chosen the place for its discreet lighting and its clientele, who were more interested in their own carefully cultivated mystique than in rubbernecking. He nursed an Old Fashioned, the ice a silent anchor in his glass, and tried to appear nonchalant. He’d known she was coming. He just hadn't been prepared for this.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Filthy
Love Thoughts. Content Warning.
My back arched into the soft mattress, every nerve ending alive and screaming as you plunged into me, deep and insistent. The air was thick with the scent of sex, a primal musk that clung to our bodies, slick with sweat and anticipation.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Filthy
Love Thoughts. Content Warning.
My hands found your hips with a hungry urgency, pulling you flush against me as my mouth devoured yours. The kiss was a wild, untamed thing – a collision of yearning, a desperate quest for more. Your lips, soft and yielding, parted under mine, inviting a deeper invasion of my tongue as it danced with yours in a primal rhythm. Each thrust was a declaration, a desperate need echoing in the depths of you. The bedsprings creaked a frantic counterpoint to our gasps, the world outside fading into an irrelevant blur.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Filthy
Love Thoughts. Content Warning.
He shifted, his hip pressing against my hand, a clear signal. The jeans were growing tighter now, the fabric straining. The once-soft mound was a solid, eager presence. My fingers tightened their grip, a silent promise. "Almost there," I murmured, my gaze locked with his, sharing the secret smile, the electric charge of our forbidden game. The light turned green. He pressed the accelerator, but the car wasn't the only thing surging forward.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Filthy
Love Thoughts. Content Warning.
"One just has to love how nimble and bendy you are," I murmured, my voice a low rumble. Your smile, wicked and knowing, was my undoing. You didn't even break eye contact as your fingers, deft and unhurried, found the waistband of your lace panties. The tiny space between the steering wheel and my knee was barely a foot, yet you twisted, contorted, and with a soft sigh, slid them down, a whisper of silk against denim. The air in the car thickened, electric.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Filthy
Love Thoughts. Content Warning.
My fingers, tracing the sharp line of your jaw, felt the subtle tremor there, mirroring the one that had begun deep within my own core. We’d been building to this all evening – a slow burn of whispered promises and lingering touches, each one a brushstroke on a canvas of rising anticipation. Now, the masterpiece is nearing completion.
By Forest Greenabout a month ago in Filthy
Losing My Virginity - Again
Even though I had always assumed - especially in my days as a baby gay - that I was a bottom, as I got older and gained more sexual experience, I realized that I liked the idea of topping. Not only does bottoming require meticulous preparation - if you want a clean, pleasant experience - but it also looks and sounds incredibly painful. With my long history of stomach issues, any kind of sensation involving my back door immediately makes me think of my mad stomach attacks - not something I want to think about during sex. I was fine not ever experiencing the alleged wonders of receiving anal sex, but recently, that changed and I'm still not sure how I feel about it.
By Gabriel Bradshaw 2 months ago in Filthy
