Sometimes I wonder if I’m horny or if life just deals out a bunch of sensations that kind of feel horny even though they’re not technically stimulating the sexy bits. In no particular order (and with an invitation to add your own in the comments), here are some things that aren’t horny but feel horny. You’ll get what I mean.
This isn’t sexy. OK, it might be sexy. If you like cunts. But then if you like cunts, the way I write about them is going to seem bizarre and maybe even horrible to you. So I may well be about to take something you find sexy and absolutely ruin it. Here goes: I am disgusted by the inside of my body, and therefore I’m disgusted by my cunt, and so what I’m about to tell you is the most intimate thing I have ever done.
This post about vaginal inspection involves extreme and sometimes gross/shamey descriptions of the human body, especially (obviously) the vagina.
I’m not very chatty on Twitter any more, and it wasn’t until last night when I spoke to a friend on the phone that I realised… I don’t even call my friends that much these days. The last few weeks have been weird and frightening, and they’re only going to get weirder and more frightening until sometime in June when the fear will come to a head and I’ll either sink, swim, or cling desperately to any of the friends I haven’t so far pissed off by ignoring. This is how it works, when my mental health is bad: I hide.
I’ve been thinking about dickheads a lot lately. I mean, specifically, the head of a dick. The most sensitive, lickable part. The bit that’s most fun to run your tongue over. The part that you can kiss with spit-moistened lips. I like paying special attention, during languid suck-jobs, to all the different ways I can use my tongue on the head: flat on the underside, swirls round the ridge, firm flicks over it from side-to-side or up-and-down. Right now, I’m obsessed with the head of a dick. The way the ridge of it feels solid against the topside of my tongue when I flatten it and lick. The way I can wet it with one smooth, wet motion – running my tongue around as I playfully pretend that I’m not going to put it all the way back in my throat. The noises I can suck out of someone when I finally dip the head into my waiting mouth, and the twitching agony in his body if I keep doing that – over and over – without ever swallowing the whole of him. Sorry. This is technically meant to be a review of the new Godemiche OffBeat masturbation sheaths, but already I’m distracted. Dick does that to me.
We’re in bed, getting down to it, and usually my one-track mind is laser-focused on what it will feel like when he slides his dick inside me. At the moment when I realise that’s not going to happen – he’s slowly softening and the look on his face switches from horn to confusion or embarrassment – I remind myself how lucky I am that I don’t ever have to worry about erections myself. Twenty years ago, if a guy went soft on me, my main feeling would be heartbreak: he doesn’t fancy me enough. I’m ugly. Unsexy. Incapable of teasing a boner from him. Ten years ago, I’d be annoyed: did he have a wank before we met up? Has he had too much to drink? These days, frustration and sadness have (thankfully) made way for a different feeling: relief that the pressure isn’t on me.