How to get over heartbreak

Start with a super-sad song. One you’ve played over and over before, but never fully wept to. Put it on loudly and sit somewhere you usually don’t. The carpet. The bath. The filthy kitchen floor.

Then, grab something comforting. Chocolate, biscuits, wine, all of the above. Consume them while staring blankly into space, imagining that somewhere someone else is doing the same. Feel the weight and pain of all the shattering hearts that exist on the same planet.



Two things: awesome sex ed and shitting on shitbags

Today I am frantic with work, and about to collapse in a pile on the floor. Please forgive me if I’m slow to get back to you or if your kind offer of a pint or a chat is met with just an incoherent scream of terror.

BUT I refuse to collapse properly before I’ve done a Monday blog. So here goes – a brilliant thing, and something that’s annoyed me…


Double penetration with a strap-on and a cock

it works both ways round and holy fuck it's amazing

Spent ages trying to come up with a fun title for this, and I just kept coming back to the most descriptive one: double penetration with a strap-on and a cock.


a) that’s exactly what happened and

b) it was one of the best things I have ever done. Ever.

I’d like to say that double penetration with a strap-on and a cock is a normal Saturday night in my house, but that would be downplaying the gravity and excitement of the situation. Last week, I finally managed to do something I’ve been wanting to do for years.


Why won’t tall women date short men? A theory…

I’m 5′ 11”. In my life, I have slept with a fair few men, most of whom were the same height as, or taller than me. Am I horribly shallow? No, not really. But I can tell you that as a tall girl it’s genuinely quite difficult to find shorter guys who are actually willing to fuck me.

Of those who might be up for a shag, many have spent a long time making excruciatingly tedious comments about how massive I am, or listing ways in which I need to slightly adjust (take off heels, slouch a bit, sit down) in order to meet with their approval. That tends to put me off a bit, to be honest.


In which he tells me a sexy story…

Everything that happens in this blog post is consensual. But it involves two people exploring consensual non-consent fantasies, so please be aware before you read. 

I love a good bedtime story. Ideally a story told in hushed whispers, with his lips pressed right up against my ear and his hand rummaging eagerly at my cunt.

It’s probably frustrating, when you’re getting hot and hard and ready, to have your partner pause for a break in proceedings to ask for a bedtime story. But there’s something about a sexy story that gets me wetter than a hand could. The plot, the fucking itself, the veiled implication that these are things he would do to me if he could…

Yeah. I like sexy stories.

Most of the time, bedtime stories take the form of memories or future plans.

“Remember when we…?”

“Have you ever wanted to..?”

And they’re great. But they’re different. I’m talking here about real bedtime stories – scripts he writes in his head, with the express purpose of turning me on.

Here’s one of my favourites.


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