Eroticism

Silken on Sex #78: It is fair to say that I’m an enthusiastic masturbator and sex toy aficionado. My primary partner calls me his pervy dirty girl, and fortunately is not threatened by my self-pleasuring practices. He knows that my libido is off-the-charts and that it takes a herculean effort on anyone’s part (including...
Read more »

(This is the complete text of the erotic story Dirty Girl: The Preacher’s Kid. If you haven’t listened to my podcasts of this story, Part One is here and Part Two is here.) Songs of Solomon 5:15 His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold; his countenance is as...
Read more »

Silken on Sex #74: Most of what I write and record is based on personal experiences. Deliciously intense erotic experiences. As I’m writing this now, I’m intoxicated. By wine and other things. Other things? You are probably asking yourself. Yes, other things. Like the fragrance of ‘us’ wafting up from between my thighs. I...
Read more »

I call this rock formation the Sandstone Pudendum. This photograph was taken in Kolob Canyon, which is a remote northern section of Zion National Park in Utah. I was struck immediately by its obvious resemblance to the female pudendum, or vulva. I’m not certain of the size, but I’d say that the cleft itself...
Read more »

Q: Dear Silkenvoice: As I’ve gotten older my sexual needs have become more and more specific. I can only cum if the circumstances are just-so (I have a fetish). I can rarely cum when my wife and I have sex and she is taking it personally. Is there something wrong with me? What can...
Read more »

Morning after a night of erotic dreams. Awakening to feeling sexually charged, keyed. Feeling the erotic energy trapped between my hips. It is early. I have time to meditate, to masturbate, to have my morning orgasm. Arising from my bed. The world is still asleep. Silence. Its almost tangible. It lays over my ears...
Read more »

Renewal is everywhere I look. It is all there in a glance at flower beds with crocuses pushing their spikes up from under dead leaves. Camellias, the harbingers of Spring, are flowering, fallen blossoms already rotting on the new-green grass. The air feels almost-balmy and the sap is rising in the trees like Persephone...
Read more »

I like the way he teases me. Correction. I love the way he teases me. How is it that he’s gotten into my mind, learned where the buttons are, the buttons I used to keep well-hidden but now seem to be revealed to him? Sapiosexual I am, and he knows this, knows to start...
Read more »