Category Archives: Unsolicited advice
What not to put on your sex playlist
The sound of sex is pretty important, by which I mean that if I’m fucking you I want to hear noises. You know – yelps, squeals, sighs – all that good stuff. Above all I want to hear you grunt like I’m a particularly hefty bit of furniture and you’re shifting me up an awkward staircase.
The most common soundtrack to my fucking is just that: the sound of fucking. Me sighing, you moaning, like a shit call-and-response bridge in the middle of a passionate duet.
Unngh.
Aaah.
Yeah.
Fuck.
Oh.
Nnng.
Oooh.
You know what I mean.
Sometimes, though, people choose to play music.
When I was fucking new people quite regularly, and I had a housemate whose desire to hear me fuck could be measured on a scale from ‘no thanks’ to ‘Jesus fuck woman I will BUY you a GAG’, I had a sex playlist.
Sex stories, lies and memory
When you tell someone a story, how much of it is true? Every detail? Probably not. Whenever you tell someone something that actually happened, there’ll be elements of it that you remember perfectly, and other elements that you don’t. You’ll perhaps gloss over some of the awkward details, or play them up to comic effect, or tell a story in a context which doesn’t fully explain the whys as well as the whats.
And so it is with sex stories.
During an email interview the other day, someone asked me how much of what I write is true. My initial, kneejerk response was: all of it. And that’s the simplest answer. Everything I write here – unless it’s specifically marked as a fantasy or bucket list shag – actually happened. But to say it like that is to gloss over what actually happens when you write up a sex story – whether it’s a relationship you had ten years ago, or a quickie you had last night.
I like to watch you flirt
“I think the barista fancies me,” he explained as we wandered towards the coffee shop. “She’s quite flirty, you know?”
Yeah. I know. I know a million guys who are convinced that the barista in their regular coffee shop fancies them. They pop in of a morning, freshly showered and ready for work, and order their usual from someone who knows how to make it. That loving ritual of giving and receiving hot drink adds an extra tinge of flirtiness to an otherwise mundane transaction. A simple ‘how are you?’ can be transformed into a declaration of playful lust.
“No, she doesn’t fancy you,” I told him, twattishly. “Everyone thinks the barista is flirting with them – they teach them how to do it in barista school.”
“Yeah,” a twitch of something that looks like relief on his face. “You’re probably right.”
Win a ticket to Eroticon 2015 and help me write my talk
Forgive the meta-blog, this is one for other sex writers and bloggers, so if you’re just here for the filth or the ranting, check out a random archive post or two and normal service will resume on Sunday.
When I first started sex blogging, I didn’t really think it’d be a big thing. I thought I’d write some half-baked opinions and spit out some of the sexy stories that I was itching to tell people, and then one day I’d shrug my shoulders and just… well… stop. Then some people started reading it. They were joined by more people, and in the brief periods of time between writing a blog and worrying that it wasn’t any good, I managed to start doing things like writing articles for other websites, and a book, and other stuff.
Then I went to a conference in which loads of people gave me advice on how to be better, and it was amazing. It basically answered a whole bunch of questions I had about sex blogging, like ‘how do you get people to pay you to write about hot things on the internet?’ and ‘how do I pitch articles to people who have never heard of me before?’ To be honest, the only question that remained unanswered was ‘how much time do you spend masturbating?’
Are fetish club dress codes always necessary?
“Dear GOTN, despite the fact that you’re a grumpy arse for most of the year, I’d like to invite you to my birthday party…
Ooh! A party! How fun!
“It will be held on Saturday at 8pm…”
Yay! I’m free on Saturday! I can go!
“At this address…
I’ll find it on Gmaps. Oooh, I’m so excited!
“The fancy dress theme will be…”
Shit it, I’m not going.
(more…)