Erotica by Shannon

🚗 Is Car Sex Worth It? My Mazda Knows the Answer Last night, as I folded the sheets and tucked away the remnants of a dreamy rendezvous in the back of my white Mazda, a question popped into my head: Is car Sex worth it? I smiled. Because for me—and I'd bet my lover R would agree—it's not just worth it. It's mystique. Tenfold. Why Car Sex Works (and Works Well) It's portable. Wherever we go, the mood follows. It's spontaneous. No reservations, no waiting. Just us. It's sexy. Something about the confined space, the thrill, the risk. It's playful. We laugh, we tease, we explore. It's deeply connected. More than the Bedroom ever allows. Our Ritual: Romance in Motion We meet at Panera or Dunkin'. I hand him the key. He drives us somewhere quiet—hiking trails, sunset views, nature's backdrop. In the back of my car? A Rubbermaid container packed with essentials: Sheets Coconut oil Baby wipes Music Snacks Sometimes black nylons Always,...

There's something delicious about anticipation—how it coils low in the belly, how it lingers in the fingertips when you pack your overnight bag with toys meant for pleasure. All week, I'd been aching to share the ways I'd been touching myself, craving the moment I could show R. exactly what I'd discovered. Tonight, I wouldn't just tell him. I'd let him watch.

You Can't Fake the Moisture This morning, sunlight spilled through the kitchen window as he wrapped his arms around me, spinning me gently like a slow dance. His blue eyes met my sleepy green ones, and he smiled with quiet satisfaction. "You can't make up the moist," he whispered, lips brushing my ear. "Must mean I'm doing a good job…" I laughed softly, leaning into his warmth. The kiss he gave me was featherlight, lingering just long enough to remind me of last night—of how close we were, how wild. The living room TV hummed in the background, looping TikToks under his daughter's command, but we were in that kitchen, and we were in our own world. My body still hummed with the memory of his touch, the way our fantasies spilled into whispered confessions and tangled limbs. Moonlight had painted our silhouettes on the wall as we moved together—his hands gripping my hips, my legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper. We kissed like we were starving. I ...