Category: Diaries


Julie sat rigid at the foot of the bed; the stranger beside her shifted his weight, his gaze turned to match hers. Both waiting on his instruction, wondering what sort of demands he was conjuring behind those dark eyes. Julie, now gripping the bed sheets could feel her thighs rubbing together and her pussy growing wet; anticipation.

Max sat in an armchair, elbows rested and fingers intertwined, deep in thought. His eyes met Julie’s gaze and his dick twitched at the ideas he was about to impose on Julie for their mutual pleasure. He saw the restlessness in her eyes and the slightest bit of hesitancy which made him incredibly hard. The man beside her was a stranger to the both of them, now invited to join in their fun. Behind his cool gaze and underneath his mask Max saw uncertainty in his eyes. Not to worry he thought to himself, Julie will certainly take care of him…

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She Doesn’t Know

She sits on the bed with her back against the wall, legs stretched outward, one bent for comfort, the other long and straight, toe pointed stretching like a cat. She pulls on her cigarette and stares at the motel wall lost in a million thoughts with a mind that is somehow blank. He is in the washroom, presumably getting ready to leave, and she sits on the bed wearing just his shirt and her heels deciding if she should leave quietly or stay put and enjoy the last few moment of what was either the best or worst night of her life.

When Derrick left her three weeks earlier her heart was broken. It remains broken but now her mind leads her in the now, forgetting about her previous obsession with her tomorrow. She met Tom only hours ago and was drawn to him in a way she hasn’t been drawn to someone before. She agreed to come to this motel with him because she needed to. Because she wanted to. Because she had to. She doesn’t really know.
He is everything she needs and absolutely nothing that she wants. She usually knows better, but tonight she doesn’t care.

She cries now, a single tear that represents all the pain, all the loss and all the sorrow she feels. Her tear falls from her cheek through the open shirt onto her still sweating chest, damp still from the most spontaneous decision she has ever made. She misses making love, but she just got fucked and she liked it. She hates herself but she loves what’s next because for the first time in her life she doesn’t know…

~Sasha Femme 

Love Letter


So I think last nights events (especially the finale in the washroom haha) got my mind racing and working over time. By the time I finally lay my head to rest I was charged with the impossible task of actually falling asleep. My dreams were good ones however, and they played as follows…

I can remember that no matter where we were or what we were doing you would look at me with the slightest bit of hesitancy that I found both charming and highly desirable. I remember, probably because last night you gave me the slightest preview that you made noises that suggested you were gasping for air, begging for more. 

I know that at one point I was behind you and inside of you, my right hand locked firmly around your right hip bone, holding you in place as I saw fit. My left was wound through your hair and on the back of your neck, reminding you that I was in charge, making you feel wanted. 

You were wearing heels.

I remember the texture of the skin on your back as if I was one of earths tiniest creatures living upon it. I remember the beads of sweat forming on your back as the room got hotter, the pace got quicker and harder, and you got louder. I remember leaning forward to whisper in your ear “I like fucking you, you are going to make me come.”

And then I woke up and it was as if this actually happened, but you weren’t there. If this however is any predication for my nocturnal future I can’t wait till the next time I fall asleep.




Tied Bound

Left alone in the dark, decaying, mould

Stark naked wearing only a blindfold

He enters silently, drawing near, quietly whispers in my ear.

I must do what I am told, or no promise of my futures hold.

Match Strike, Cigarette light

The smell of smoke invades my air, ‘Take a drag if you dare’

His finger tips, my quivering lips

Inhale deep …

Above my head wrists still bound, pulsating heat to my mound.

Leaning forward wanting more, I hear his foots steps cross the floor.

“You did not do as you were told; now I leave you in the cold”

My soft whimpers he did not hear, he will be back I need not fear.

~Sasha Femme 
Photograph by: Richard Northwood

Bad Girl

I tried hard to be a good girl but cannot help myself to be bad.

This delicious contrast has driven me to some pretty adventurous encounters.

Many that must be told.

Join me as I share my life, my lust and body through each erotic quest.

I can be whoever you want me to be, close your eyes imagine me…

~Sasha Femme