My Dearest,

Summer is almost here. The days started to be hot, didn’t they? I am staring at my last artwork in the studio. It’s an extra-large format, 7 feet of sex.

I started to use white chalk. I like it a lot. On these handmade canvases, all painted in black, I am drawing, dancing — using all my body. So satisfying.

I also got few vintage Danish porn mags in black and white. The close-ups are so arousing. I used some as inspiration for the last posts on Instagram.

And for you, I have a story — based on my empty, desperate nights.

An Empty Mind

I only engage in random, spontaneous, and reckless actions without considering the aftermath. I take a chance and see what happens. So far, so good. I may even get paid for that chaotic state.

I don’t think. Fuck my philosophy degree. My entire life is built around sex. From basic physiological requirements to higher-level psychological desires, sex is the Holy Grail of my daily actions.

I am a nocturnal animal. And I want it wild. He was a middle-aged man with no taste. Ghost in old school pants. Proud member of the wifey-not-fun club. A transparent body. Fully ready for me.

No talk. I took his hand. Smiled. He politely followed me. I unzipped the chastity pants and liberated the untouched meat. I drooled over it, started licking, biting it a bit, just a bit. I like cum with blood.

When he was semi-hard, I turned myself and put that loser trophy right inside me. Deep inside, going on and off. He was freezing. Still. Watching me doing the job. Poor little thing. Totally fucked.

It wasn’t long before I collected my bloody cream. Too many emotions, I believe.

Ah, this erotic June! And, if you didn’t receive your favorite newsletter in May, it's mainly because I've spent an inordinate amount of time posting on my website my drawings from the Sex Pods notebook. Check it out.

Love always,
Sissi