He wears a watch, and it’s beautiful.
It frames his big hands so neatly, drawing attention to the curve of his wrists and the tension in his fingers as he grips his cock.
I don’t see it at first. It’s early, and grey, and Thursday. My brain’s only just kicking itself awake when I hear the telltale shuffle of him rubbing his cock in bed beside me.
The rustle of the covers. The tight breaths that go with a swift, functional morning wank.
My latest book is out today! Here are the links to buy it, and if you want to read a sample, then below is the whole of chapter 6, in text and at the bottom in audio (which I think technically counts as audio porn).
Extract below. I’m chuffed that this was the chapter picked for extract because I think it gives a pretty decent overview of the book – a bit of behind-the-scenes on blogging, a couple of fucking lovely blokes, a rant about openness and a dirty lubed-up hand job. Hope you like it.
Someone found my blog the other day by searching ‘first time anal.’ It’s quite common, this ‘first time’ thing, and it comes up a lot in search. ‘My first anal’ or ‘her first facefuck’, like someone’s researching an incredibly explicit series of picture books. Anyway, the search prompted me to think about first times, and it occurred to me that while there are a few first times in my book, I’ve not actually written about ‘my first anal fuck’ before. Mainly because… well… it wasn’t particularly sexy.
The first time I had anal sex was down to 50% curiosity (me) and 50% ‘you’re on your period so how about we…?’ (him). Please forgive him for this – we were both young and silly, and he was still getting over the slight horror that came from discovering that menstrual blood sometimes has chunks in. If I met a guy these days who assumed that buttsex was the only possible option while I was bleeding, I would kick him out on his arse, but back then it was not considered weird for him to ask, and I think he was bored of me practising blow jobs.
Besides, I was very keen on the idea. I was still in the kid-in-a-sweetshop phase of sex, wanting to try every new thing I’d heard of to see if it worked for me.
Just writing that seems a bit strange, because now anal is one of my favourite things. So what went wrong?
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve learned anything since I was at school, when I used to fall madly in love with any guy who showed a vague interest, before desperately wishing I knew how to act on it.
Then I remember how it was, and that being young was difficult, stressful, and quite, quite absurd.
I haven’t arranged a guest blog for this week – sorry about that. In lieu, please enjoy this extract from my own diary, circa 1998. In it, I am trying to explain the complex emotional dynamic in my group of slightly nerdy, oh-so-romantic friends.
Because you’re bored. Because you’re horny. Because you caught a glimpse of one of those pop-up ads and you can’t get the image out of your head.
Because it’s Wednesday.
Because you have a day off work, and you don’t know when the cable engineer will arrive.
Because you got a new sex toy and you want to try it out, or an old favourite to get nostalgic with.
Because someone whispered a special trick to you and you need to see if it works, and then try it again – three times – just to make sure.