Sex toys for men: I love them, some people hate them, but every sex and relationships columnist has to have an opinion on them. And some of those opinions are bullshit. While I’ll often get very shouty about facts, very rarely would I tell someone that their opinion is bullshit, but in the case of male sex toys I am comfortable doing this. Because if you think that sex toys for men are somehow less acceptable than sex toys for anyone else, chances are you’re doing this based on either bad facts or an incomplete grasp of the benefits of sex toys. Not only are you catastrophically wrong, you’re also doing an entirely unnecessary harm.

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Today’s guest blogger – Catey – runs a seriously lovely sexy words Tumblr, where she collects smutty quotes from literature. And as you can tell from her guest blog below, she’s pretty amazing at telling dirty stories herself…

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I disappoint men regularly. In real life I disappoint them by forgetting their birthdays or accidentally baking them cakes that turn out to be raw in the middle. Professionally I disappoint men (and non-men) by not replying to their emails quickly enough, or sending invoices dated ‘2016’ because I am forgetful and will probably keep doing that until at least July. I try to fix these little disappointments, at the same time as I try to remind myself that we’re all a bit disappointing sometimes.

But on this blog, there’s one way in which I disappoint men that I have no intention of fixing.

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My dude and I are walking down the street on the way to catch a train. It’s fairly late, and the streets are filled with tanked-up football fans and loved-up students off their tits on MDMA so naturally, there are police. Just in front of us, a pair of young police officers get out of a panda car in their stab vests. She’s mid-twenties, with short blond hair and the kind of muscle tone you’d need to restrain a suspect. He’s slightly older, and has a solid heft to him that I’d imagine would feel achingly good on top of me during a struggle-fuck.

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Once a month blood trickles from my vagina. I do beg your pardon for this – I know I should hide my monthly shame from you, because this is a sex blog and menstruation is grotesque, so I should really only talk about it in whispers. But it’s worth mentioning because a new product has arrived on the market that could mean I never have to show evidence of menstruation ever again – even when I am shagging the guy I am closest to in the whole wide world! Joy! Celebration! Let’s all pretend that periods don’t happen because if we think about it too much we’ll never fuck again!

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