Category Archives: The human body
One girl’s adventures in Cock Hero
Long-time readers will remember that a few months ago I got very excited by the concept of a Guitar Hero style game, but for wanking. It’s called Cock Hero, and the gentleman who discovered the idea and sent it to me very kindly gave me an in-depth explanation of what Cock Hero is, and why it is so fucking horny.
Essentially you masturbate in time to a beat, along to a montage of porn put together specifically to challenge you. It begins fairly softcore, and the beat counter at the bottom of the screen directs you in slow, occasional strokes. Then as the game progresses, the porn gets more intense and the beat counter speeds up, whipping you into a rhythmic frenzy until it’s all you can do to hold back on the inevitable jizzsplosion.
Naturally I was intrigued, and I have spent the next few months getting involved in Cock Hero on a casual gaming basis, because I like playing with dicks and I am lucky enough to know a guy who’ll let me have a go on his in the name of Friday-night fun. I thought I’d give you a run-down of my own tips and hacks, in case you fancy playing yourself. It is probably the niche-est article I have ever written, and it may only be of interest to me, so I have tried to spice it up with some detailed descriptions of wanking people off.
Ready? Let’s go.
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My clit is broken and I’m not happy about it
I have broken my clit on numerous occasions in the past. Usually due to excessive masturbation or obsession over a new sex toy that has led it to go sore and numb and good for nothing. Now, however, my clit is broken for a disturbing Other Reason, and that is that I have not wanked for over a week.
I KNOW.
Over Christmas, circumstances conspired to mean it was pretty much impossible for me to masturbate. Visiting family, stress, the stress of visiting family: these things don’t just add up, they multiply, and leave me totally unable to wank.
Hence: my clit is broken.
Not perfect, but done
When I was young, I used to think about all the things I wanted to be when I grew up. Looking to the future, I’d see myself in lots of different roles. Lawyer (the first, and most intense of my Future Dreams), comedian (very brief desires, always stamped out by the fact that I’m not as funny as I think I am), and often writer (that one’s stuck).
It was – and still is – fun to imagine all the cool things I could do and be if I had the skill, and put in the effort.
But something’s changed since I was younger, and that’s that I think far less about what I could be, or what I want to do, and more on what I want to have done. Looking at writing, I am less likely to imagine myself beavering away at a desk with a typewriter (most dreams of writerhood involve those clackety old typewriters, despite the fact that they’re deeply impractical things), and more likely to imagine myself lying face down in a pile of scribbled-on manuscript, exhaling a sigh of relief and exhaustion.
Less likely to consider what I want to do in future, and more keen to think about what I want written on my gravestone.
“She tried her best” might be a good one. Or right now simply: “Knackered.”
Facials: why a face-full of semen is like a Christmas pudding
Fun fact: I once spent an entire week wanking to nothing other than a gif someone had made of a particular moment in a homemade porn film, where the woman squeezed her eyes tight shut and grinned as the guy emptied an astonishingly generous load all over her face. Let’s talk about facials, shall we?
Teenage kicks versus having sex in your thirties
As a certified grumpy bastard, I can tell you that it’s always much easier to be negative than positive. As someone with access to web stats I can also tell you that if you want to get clicks, and you’re not writing porn, you’re always better to be critical than optimistic. I’m throwing all that out of the window today, though, because of a conversation I had the other day that went a little something like this:
“Know what’s brilliant?”
“What?”
“We could have sex now if we wanted to.”
“I’m not really in the mood, but…”
“Ah, but you don’t have to want to, you just have to appreciate how cool it is that we totally could if we wanted to.”
Sometimes I go through miserable phases when I look down at my body and think ‘huh, there are some things that have happened here that are basically irreversible.’ I worry about stretchmarks or consider the fact that I’m no longer able to do the things I did when I was eighteen. I may still be able to get my ankles behind my head to brace against the bedposts, but I’ll no longer do it without a groan of effort. I can bend over sexily, but I’ll say ‘oof’ when I get up. Cramp is not so much an occasional visitor as a permanent unwanted house guest.
But, while it’s easy (and certainly more clickbait-friendly) to snark about the negatives, it’s also worth remembering the benefits of having sex in your thirties. This post is about giving credit to all the things I often take for granted…