Category Archives: Unsolicited advice

Kissing: How to be an excellent kisser

I should probably take the ‘over 18s’ warning off my site for this post, as I’m going right back to first base by discussing kissing. As with all of my posts, though, there’s probably still some mention of dicks, so don’t start reading it out loud to your grandma.

Kissing’s good. And it’s not just for teenagers. Much like tit-groping, kissing seems to get neglected as we age. A fumbling snog is no longer the goal in mind when you chat someone up – it’s a bridge you have to cross before they agree to full sex. I think this is a crying shame and – if your final goal is good sex – a serious lapse of judgment.

With apologies to Cher, a kiss can’t really tell you whether someone loves you. But it can certainly tell you to what degree they want to rip your knickers off and pound you like you’re in trouble.

Kissing makes a world of difference

I could be with the loveliest guy in the world, dripping wet with anticipation for the moment he first sticks his hand down the back of my jeans, and be turned off in just a second if he kisses me unenthusiastically.

Alternatively, a guy for whom I have only a modest amount of affection can have me panting with desperate fucklust just by kissing me the right way. I can pinpoint the time I started taking a certain guy seriously to the moment when he lay on top of me on the sofa and kissed me so hard I actually moaned.

It was slow, but with force and pressure. As he was doing it he pinned my body down on the sofa and pressed himself between my legs like he wanted to trap me beneath him. He held my wrists behind my head so I couldn’t move, and kissed me for a good half an hour.

When I said ‘please, please fuck me’ he ignored my requests and kept going. And I kept moaning. And by the time he finally pulled down my jeans to get at my cunt the relief was so great that my eyes watered.

How to be a good kisser

Contrary to the wisdom of the teen movie, no one can actually teach you how to kiss except the person you’re kissing.

Some traditional top tips include:

  • don’t use too much tongue
  • don’t waggle your head around too much
  • try not to dribble down their chin

And I’m not a fan of people who use these techniques either. But I’m pretty sure some people like it because I’ve been with men who do kiss like that. I’ve had guys dribble and lick. I’ve had some who kiss like they’re in Byker Grove on fast-forward. And I’ve had some all over my face, forcing their tongues so deep into my mouth that I’m not sure whether to keep kissing or just suck on it like it’s a prehensile, face-mounted dick.

But some people must like it, because they do it. So my advice (if you want to be good) is to try and kiss like your partner – take your cues from them. Best case scenario: you learn to love their style. Worst case scenario: at least you’re doing roughly the same thing, so you’re less likely to clash teeth or give your partner whiplash.

But my advice if you really want to enjoy it is to encourage them to kiss like you. If both of you move towards an acceptable kissing compromise you’ll probably end up somewhere in-between which works reasonably well for both parties.

Do more kissing

Do more kissing – however you choose to do it. It’s a bit of a ‘Cosmo’ piece of advice, but I mean it. Kiss. Kiss with enthusiasm. Kiss like you want to fuck. Kiss like if you do it well enough the girl you’re with will slick her knickers, because – listen carefully – it’s true.

In bed, in the shower, in the kitchen, while you’re watching TV – kiss. On the scale of ‘dull’ to ‘fucking awesome’ it’s a hell of a lot higher than you might think.

A good kiss can make the difference between a nice shag and a spectacular fuck. Kissing makes my cunt drip and my nipples hard before you’ve even taken any clothes off. Kiss me well and not only will I be more likely to fuck you, I’ll be actively begging you to do anything you want.

After a full-on weak-at-the-knees snog, not only will I plead with you to touch my tits, hurt me and fuck me in the ass, you’ll hear the dirtier stuff come out too. The stuff I might be nervous to ask for if you hadn’t just made me insensible with passionate snogging. Kiss me gently and nervously and we’ll have the awkward shy sex. Kiss me with confidence and you can beat me with a coathanger, piss all over me, force your fist part of the way into my aching cunt, then come on my face and scoop droplets of your fresh spunk right into my filthy, kissable mouth.

It’s probably lucky I kept the +18 warning after all.

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On what makes a woman sexy

As a woman who has had sex with a man on more than one occasion, I felt like I might be well-placed to give you some advice on how to become sexy. Here goes.

When I’ve asked men I’ve slept with “what makes me sexy?”, answers have ranged from ‘your enthusiasm for dick’ through ‘your big, fat, argumental mouth’ to ‘the fact that you live quite close by and I’m incredibly lazy.’ But luckily we don’t have to rely on flattery dished out by men I’ve known – FHM has the answer.

Today FHM released its ‘100 sexiest women’ edition and I, completely unscientifically and with pint in hand, logged the key things that stood out about the women in the top 100. See my ‘methodology‘ for more info.

I then spoke to the collection of liberal, pervy, lovely people who follow me on Twitter, and asked what they thought was sexy. The results are in:

What makes a woman sexy, according to FHM

To be sexy you must be willing to strip to your underwear but never *ever* show people your nipples


What makes a woman sexy, according to Twitter

To please Twitter you must be mouthy, and it sometimes helps if you do tweets that make people do a 'lol'

Quite the difference, no? It turns out that becoming the sexiest woman in the world might be more difficult than I originally thought.

What does FHM say about ‘sexiness’?

Most of the things mentioned in the bios of FHM’s top 100 were career-related. In fact, almost all of the copy focused either on what the lady had featured in (TV shows, films, magazines, adverts) or songs she had sung. Curiously, although many of them mentioned the women’s careers, there were only 11 mentions of specific achievements – ‘breaking a Guinness World Record’ or ‘kayaking the Amazon’, for instance.

Although there were a few glimpses of their personal interests and passions (one of the top 100 sexiest women campaigns to save Great White Sharks, another is a noted philanthropist) the majority of the copy focused, unsurprisingly, on dribbling odes to their ‘legginess’ or bodies ‘sexy enough to bend time and space.’

What does Twitter say about ‘sexiness’?

Twitter, on the other hand, focused far more on a girl’s attitude – her individuality and confidence were key indicators of sexiness, as were wit and intelligence.

Special mentions go to words like ‘edgy’ and ‘ballsy’, which I personally appreciate in a woman. One enthusiastic gentlemen assured me that the sexiest thing in a woman was her offering ‘even the slightest indication that she’d be willing to touch me.’

But the overall prize goes to the four people who pointed out (though no doubt most others were thinking similar things) that it’s all completely subjective. Personally, I love a girl with attitude – a loudmouthed, argumentative, filthy creature who could beat me in both a fist-fight and an argument. Someone with pretty eyes, a huge arse and spectacularly hard nipples.

How to become the sexiest woman in the world

Depressing though it is to read FHM, it does help you to understand the tedium that comes with consensus. Yes, most of the women in the top 100 were similar – they all had jobs in the public eye, so were presumably quite outgoing, they were all slim and feminine, with lovely tits. Most of them had long hair and almost all of them were wearing clothes even my mother wouldn’t let me leave the house in.

But that’s just what happens when you get thousands of people to choose sexiness based on pictures of women they’ve seen in magazines. Their sample is limited, for a start, and there are so many people voting that things will eventually work their way towards a democratic middle-ground – the breadth and variety of human sexual preference won’t get a look in. You’ll inevitably end up with 100 beautiful yet very similar singers/models/actresses in their pants.

When you ask people a question – an open one – about what they find attractive, ‘sexiness’ becomes far more inclusive. Suddenly to become the sexiest woman in the world you no longer have to choose from a limited range of careers, associate yourself with someone famous or freeze your arse off in cheap lingerie.

If you can be confident, intelligent, make someone laugh or melt at your smile, you’re onto a winner. If you have a twinkle in your eye or a penchant for filth or even just a special something that makes you different then someone – somewhere – will probably want to fuck you.

Well, someone on Twitter at any rate.

Methodology: Let it not be said that I am not a rigorous motherfucker. What was my methodology? I logged things that were mentioned in tweets, using what I believe is technically described as a ‘tally chart on the back of an envelope.’  I then logged things from the descriptions and accompanying photos that appeared in FHM’s ‘100 sexiest women’ supplement. If it wasn’t mentioned, it wasn’t logged. For example, I know that at least three of the people in the supplement have had a sex tape/sexy pictures leaked, but it was only mentioned on one occasion, so was only counted once.

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On getting dumped

This might sound callous, but I don’t care if you break up with me by text message. Same goes for email. Sod it – text the ‘letters’ section of the Metro for all I care. If you’re going to dump me, just dump me.

Yes, I’ll be sad. But I’ll be no more sad than if you – quite literally – made a meal of it. Took me out for dinner, had a long discussion prompted by occasional irritating sighs, ending with The Chat: ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t fancy you any more/we have nothing in common/I’ve met someone infinitely more likeable.’

It hasn’t been emotional

People say that the reason they wouldn’t break up via text is because it’s cold-hearted. But the problem is that few of the relationships I get into are emotional enough to require a drawn-out conclusion. Most of the ‘break-ups’ I have been involved in recently have happened either because

  • he’s found a girlfriend who’d rather he didn’t fuck anyone else
  • he lives outside Zone 3 and so I am far too lazy to see him regularly

And so in this context, a break-up text will do just as well as a long conversation. If he’s a boy I’m shagging he’s a boy worth shagging, so naturally I’ll be sad that I can’t fuck him any more. But I’m not going to cry my face off over a tub of Häagen Dazs – we were probably never that close.

More importantly, it takes me just five minutes to read an email, less than one minute to read a text, but it takes an entire evening to have the break up chat. A whole evening. Think of all the things I could do in an evening! While I’m listening to you tortuously apologise for ending something that was inevitably going to end anyway I could instead be dying my hair, writing another blog, livetweeting The Apprentice or – crucially – finding someone else to fuck.

There is nothing more valuable to me than time. And giving me more of it, even if it means swallowing your natural desire to project emotion onto sex, is a wonderful thing to do.

Just tell me

But the main reason I think text break-ups are fine is because very occasionally, because of the way I meet and interact with guys, I end up in a weird limbo where I’m not entirely sure if someone is still with me. In the last year I have had three guys who have broken up with me by just ceasing all communication.

Two guys stopped fucking me after a few lovely evenings which I’m reasonably sure they enjoyed. One guy stopped fucking me shortly before we were due to go away together for a weekend.

This isn’t a rant about getting dumped. I’ve been in many ‘things’ that have ended, so I don’t get particularly upset about the endings themselves.

But what I am emotional about is not knowing. Because I like to plan. I like to know. Just as I like to know how you like your blow jobs and whether you’re into spanking, I also like to know exactly where you stand on the issue of whether you are or aren’t willing to put your dick into me.

It’s not you, it’s me

And it honestly is. I think I’m alone in this, because I’ve told other people about my preference for rapid-fire, heartless relationship comms and had them weeping over my cracked and battered soul. But a text or email at least has an immediacy and honesty that I wholeheartedly respect.

You might wait for weeks for the right moment to have ‘that’ conversation and (in the case of some of my past boys) end up never having it at all. So if your mind’s truly made up, and you really really mean it, what better way to tell me than to bleep it to my phone?

Not only will you have furnished me with useful information, you’ve also saved me time. I’ll be able to read it, digest it, mourn and move on in less time than we’d have spent on pre-dinner drinks.

On name calling: what are the best pet names?

Only very special people get to call me baby. If it’s not ironic the chances are it’ll fall as flat as someone calling me ‘twat.’ In fact, I could recite a list of offensive swearwords as long as my arm that I’d far prefer to be called than ‘baby.’ But which nicknames or pet names won’t have me running for the hills?


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On dating safety

What do you mean you want to fuck someone you’ve only just met? What on earth would your mother say? Well, whether our mothers like it or not, sometimes we want to fuck strangers. And sometimes those strangers are people we’ve met on the internet who could turn out to be anyone – from secret millionaires to serial killers.

In my experience, people you meet on internet dates are far more likely to just be normal people with whom you have little in common, and who you’re reasonably unlikely to fuck. But if you do want to fuck them, here’s my magic list of rules for staying as safe as possible.

Note: as safe as possible, not 100% safe. There is no way that I know of to absolutely guarantee your personal safety, but then such is true of many of life’s funnest activities. Also, this is written as if it’s a girl-meets-boy thing, but I reckon you should use these rules no matter who you are or who you’re banging.


Now, everyone knows that you should meet in public, right? OK. So that’s an easy one – pick a pub, or a coffee-shop, or a well-lit community centre, and arrange to meet at a time when people will be around.

So – central London Wetherspoons at 7 pm? Great.

Outside a small cafe in an area of town so heartbleedingly cool that it’s often empty? Not so great.

Fun GOTN dating fact: About a year ago, after a bit of chat with a fun-sounding guy on OKCupid, I asked him to meet me for a drink. His response was that it might be a bit more sexy if we meet somewhere secluded. In the dark. He suggested a particular spot in Hyde Park, at 8pm in midwinter.

I did not meet this man.

Telling people about yourself

The first date is great for getting to know someone, right? Well, yes – you need to find out about them and you need to tell them about yourself. But I’d strongly urge a teeny bit of caution. You might be proud of your job, but do they really need to know exactly where you work?

You might hang out in a particularly cool bar quite frequently, but would you like a rejected date rocking up there and haranguing you because you never called after the first shag? No.

Fun GOTN dating fact: I once went on a nice first date with a seemingly lovely guy. For reasons I won’t go into, I refused a second date.

He subsequently sent me five emails in quick succession, of increasing levels of nastiness. My particular favourite was one addressed to ‘you fucking bitch’ that thoughtfully reminded me that he knew where I worked.

Inviting someone back to yours

Dangerous – bear in mind that just as you wouldn’t post your address on the internet, neither should you really invite internet strangers to your house unless you know them well.

I have invited a couple of strange guys back to my place, and both of these times I have had stomach butterfies when it turned out they were more keen on me than I was on them. After you’ve let them down gently, it still takes a couple of weeks to get over the worry that they might turn up at your door bearing roses and erotica and asking for a second go.

However, if you want to take someone back to yours, but are worried that they might either:

a) do something you haven’t consented to or

b) nick your fucking telly

then it’s worth having backup.

There’s no ideal way of doing this, to be honest – anything you do will need to be pretty extreme, thus implying that you think they’re untrustworthy. And if you think they’re that untrustworthy then it’s best not to invite them back.

But I’ve done it a couple of times, and the only solution I could think of was to take something that they value and hide it somewhere in my flat. Obviously you have to ask them for it (ideally in a joking, coquettish way) and they have to know you’ve taken it, so they know you need to be on good terms with them to give it back afterwards. Watches, keys, wallets – anything that they wouldn’t fuck off without.

It is crucial that you remember to give it back – you don’t want to get stuck in a second-date situation just because you’ve still got their Tesco clubcard.

Fun GOTN dating fact: I once rescued a drunk guy whose friends had abandoned him outside a strip club I was in. I took him home and put him up for the night, but insisted first on getting his driver’s license. He was so aroused by my aura of cheeky dominance that he proceeded to lunge adorably at me before passing out face-down on the floor.

Going home with someone

He might not have brought his serial killer axe with him, but he could just have left it in the cupboard under the stairs, ready for when he’s lured you back to his house. So vigilance here is especially important. Here’s the drill:

  • Text a friend with his address straight away, let him know that you’re doing this.
  • Send your friend a link to his dating profile, his real name, and a picture of him if possible.
  • Ask your friend to call you in a few hours. Give them a set time, and make sure your date knows you’ll be expecting a phone call.

Now here’s the key part, so listen very closely: you should not at any point believe that any of this stuff is excessive or overly paranoid. It is not – this is completely normal, sensible, and wise. Recommend to your date that they do the same thing.

These precautions are as necessary as using a condom for the first fuck. As important as wearing a fucking seatbelt or looking both ways when you cross the road.

If at any point your date makes you feel bad or odd about being careful, hop on the first bus to fuckoffsville and don’t ever see them again.

Fun GOTN fact: None of the guys I have ever been on dates with have questioned any of this.