I love staying alone in a hotel. A hotel is an anonymous, disconnected space where no one knows who I am and I can do anything I want. I can walk around in the nude, or lay down in bed and feel the crisp, clean sheets against my skin. It was hard to resist taking these selfies in the bathroom: the lighting was perfect, and there was no one there to see me... except for you.
Hey y'all! Just an update that I'm going to be slow to respond to messages for a while and I'm not taking custom content requests. I am on my final book deadline and then taking a long overdue break from work. I'll still have posts to share, but I may not reliably get back to folks who reach out privately to chat. Thank you for your support!
Now that I'm more comfortable sharing nudes, I want to publish some selfies I took way back on New Years Eve 2022. I've posted tamer shots from this series before — it even inspired an essay on my blog about thirst traps and how empowering they can be. But there are some outtakes I've never put online of me feeling myself the closer the hour got to midnight.
Here's the first half of the pictures... I'll post more if you enjoy them.
By popular demand, here's another set of photos from my NYE 2022 photoshoot...
New Years Eve is my favorite holiday. There's something about dressing up and waiting in suspense for that final countdown. In my early 20s, when I was single with no one to kiss at midnight, I would stay up late on New Years Eve alone with a bottle of champagne and write erotica. It was my way of celebrating who I was and the adrenaline rush I loved about my favorite holiday.
New Years Eve 2022 was the first one I'd been able to celebrate without my abuser since my mid-twenties. It thrilled me to think of an entirely new, fresh year without him in my life. During our relationship I shrank the part of myself that wrote erotica — while he never told me to stop, I struggled to connect with my desire. It wasn't an environment where daring creative expression thrived.
When I took these photos, I hadn't found my way back to words quite yet. But I had a ring light and a camera, and I had the privacy and independence to take nearly nude self-portraits. I never planned to share them, but this month I am honoring my two-year anniversary of leaving my ex. I love how I look in these photos: a little nervous, a little awkward, but alive. I am finding my way back to myself.
Question for you! Would you be interested in me doing a livestream reading of my erotica here on OnlyFans?
I've gotten some messages about my fiction and essays, and I'd love to share more of them with you in an engaging way! Please feel free to comment below if you have suggestions.
I got my hair cut yesterday. I wanted something edgier, something fresh. I wanted to look in the mirror and see an updated version of me: hip and brave and queer and a little punk. It's a rougher shag than my last cut, a curly Joan Jett but with big black frame glasses. These selfies are just me as I am today, no cute trendy blouse, no lingerie, no distractions. Do you like the new style?
It has been a long time since someone has used your name in bed. Which is strange, really, because why wouldn’t they? There is a whole new level of intimacy to hearing him murmur your name over and over again like an exaltation, ellaellaellaella as he kisses down your chest, gentle and mesmerized.
He says a lot of things you haven’t heard before or haven’t heard for long enough to be more meaningful than he could possibly know: "your body is amazing" as he runs his fingers down your side, "you feel so good so fucking good ella" as he fuses his body to yours.
He is a talker, telling you how wet you are and how he dreamed about this during the week, and with every sweat-slick confession you sink into the memory foam and let yourself feel every inch of him, of the feelings you have for him. Respect and attraction and rightness and, yes, you just like him. He holds your hand as you slide on the ice and doesn’t let go in front of his friends. He cooks you a burger and brings you water and wants to do what you want to, wants to make you feel good, wants to make you happy tonight. It is enough to him to make you happy tonight. And he does.
It isn’t simply the two rounds of delighted and fantastic sex or the morning orgasm at his hands or passing out on top of him around ten in the morning, sated and exhausted. It isn’t only that he is a gentleman, checking at every turn that you are on the same page, asking carefully as he stood next to the sink in the kitchen if you were sure you wanted to go to his room. It goes back to how he says your name. He likes you. He thinks you are talented. He finds what you have to say intelligent and interesting. He wants you.
I've been moving into my new apartment and the floors are in need of a good mopping session. My feet paid the price and got super dirty. I know one of you will love these pictures.
I'm in love with my booty lately. I always thought I had a rather small tush, but now I can appreciate it as a curvy, pert masterpiece. I keep admiring myself while I wait for the shower to heat up. Maybe it's the lighting, maybe it's the beautiful frame of the mirror, or maybe it's just a truly great ass. What do you think?
I moved into my own apartment in September. It's a huge step forward for me as an artist: I can take pictures for OnlyFans without feeling self-conscious and make it into a real event of self-love and personal expression. My place is still missing a lot of furniture, but I have a little studio corner set up in the corner of what will be my office. Here are my first self-portraits in the new space — I haven't figured out the lighting quite yet, but there's a lot of thigh for you to enjoy :)
I did a full photoshoot last night and I am SO excited to share the pictures with you guys. Here are two outtakes I took before washing off my makeup. I was going for a Priscilla Presley look.
I love layering a harness on top of a delicate, lacy corset. There's something so satisfying about hard buckles and soft bows, the contrast of the fabrics, the way it's like solving a puzzle as you take off each layer.
This look is a little steampunk, a little regency era sexy. I can't decide if I look like a pirate or a "lightskirt" from the London Rookery.
Happy Halloween everyone! More costumes to come this month :)
He leans back against the pillows, a lazy smirk sprawling across his face, and comments that you seem happy and you smile because you are. You lean down at kiss him, tuck your knee between his thighs, watch him curl his lips around your nipple and tug gently, his eyes closed. Pure happiness is warmth, is the smell of him in your sheets because he sprayed cologne on your pillowcase while you were brushing your teeth on Sunday morning (misguidedly romantic bastard).
His eyes widen with that burning flare as he guides himself into you, deliciously slow, and his taut face looks even better when framed by your legs. You like being on top, rocking against him hard and slow and watching his eyes flicker back, his chin grit as he tries to breathe. But you like it more when he kisses down your back, skin sensitive and shivering under his lips, and your knees slide on the mattress as he fucks you like that, hands tight at your hips.
He wants to make you come, and fuck if you don’t get close, your fingers gripping the sheets in the effort not to make too much noise and annoy off your flatmate. It is so hard to let him go when he declares he needs to leave or else he will pass out here on top of you.
My new bedroom gets beautiful natural light. This afternoon I played with the shadows by the window, fascinated by the way they changed my face and body. I live on a busy street, my apartment constantly filled with noise and warmth, and I never feel alone. I don't care much about closing the curtains. If people see me, let them see.
I absolutely love this bodysuit. Black lace! Plunging v-neck! I feel like a Bond girl every time I wear it, like I'm about to commit international espionage in a penthouse overlooking Tokyo.
