Let’s get this out of the way to start with: I am not foolish enough to believe I’m the first person ever to wonder what kinky sex is like in the Dark Materials universe. Specifically in Lyra’s world, one in which everyone has their own daemon – a creature with whom you share a connection, who accompanies you at all times, and essentially functions as an external manifestation of your soul. The second you create a world with such creatures, and moreover declare that it’s taboo to touch someone else’s, inevitably you’re going to prompt a generation of perverts to grow up wondering what it’d be like to have your lover’s snake-daemon wrapped around your throat while they rail you. I know I’m not the first to explore this horny avenue, and I certainly won’t be the last. But it’s fun to ponder the implications of a world in which a part of your soul manifests in the form of an animal which is both reflective of your personality yet physically distinct from your human body, and how that might lend itself to some outrageously hot fuckplay. Strap in, my friends, cos this is gonna get… how shall I put it? … bestial.

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There are two levels on which I’m enjoying dinner. On the surface, the main conversation – catching up with friends I’ve not seen in years. Beneath the table, something even better – his thigh nudging against mine. The oh-so-casual initial pressure that could easily be written off as an accident conjures a flash of possibility as I realise that… yeah… this guy just might want to fuck me. A rush of teenage horn flushes across my skin as I decide that I’m gonna nudge him back to find out for sure. Meeting his pressure, thigh-against-thigh, I remind myself that this guy has a wife.

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I missed the Kink of the Week deadline for this, but the topic – inspection – reminded me of a story I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It didn’t have an obviously fucky ending, so it never feel like a good fit, but this is one of the hottest things a man has ever done to me.

I met him in the summer. A mutual friend was hosting a barbecue, and everyone was milling around on the patio at the back of the house, sipping drinks and swapping stories in the sunshine. You could be forgiven for thinking it was a standard suburban get-together… if people hadn’t also been occasionally smacking each other’s arses or revealing the odd flash of tit.

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You’ve got a fabulous dick, sweetheart. And I really do love taking it into my mouth and trying my best to get you to come down the back of my throat. But today I have a different request. It’s something I’ve been fixating on when I touch myself and think about you. And on the surface it won’t seem horny, but I promise you it really really is, just hear me out as I ask you… please may I not suck your cock?

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This story contains elements of dormophilia (i.e. wanting people to touch me up while I sleep), all very consensual. Don’t do this sort of thing unless you have discussed in advance with your partner and you’re sure that they would enjoy it.

The night before Christmas, he tiptoes into the bedroom to make sure he doesn’t wake me, but he doesn’t need to be that careful: I pretend to be asleep anyway. Lying on my stomach, head turned away from the door he’s just entered through, I keep my breathing soft and calm and make out that I’m sleeping. If he knows I’m awake he might try to talk to me, and at that point sleep will be impossible. Besides, if he thinks I’m out for the count, it’ll be way hotter if he tries to do The Thing I Like. I’m wearing my silk knickers, just in case. I really want him to do it.

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