Category Archives: Filthy ones
No pain, no pleasure, all the joy – anaesthetic sex
This post talks about anaesthetic sex – detailing a super-hot fuck I had while I was a bit ‘out of it’ and asked a guy to take advantage of that. It was fully consensual and negotiated between both of us before I took the anaesthetic, but if the idea of intoxicated sex makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read on.
Where are all the pervy women?
One of the most common questions I am asked (and I say this not to boast but to point out just how much disappointment I could unleash if people found out who I am) is “where can I meet a girl like you?”
This question is usually asked by straight men, who are keen to go to a bar, hook up with someone, fuck her face, then drink a few pints with her before getting ready for round two. Sadly when people ask ‘where can I meet a girl like you?’ I inevitably have to reply: you can’t.
Sorry. I’m not a figment of your imagination as such, but I’m certainly a figment of my own selective storytelling. You can meet me in a bar if you stumble into the right Wetherspoons at the dirty back end of a Friday night, but I won’t look just like this, or talk like this, or engage in this kind of pervy behaviour while you’re sipping your pint.
I’ll be wearing jeans and a jumper with holes in. I might drink and swear and shoot daggers at people who make sexist jokes, but I’ll also be a bit shy and awkward. I might forget your name, or flirt with you in a manner so clumsy it’s a gigantic turn-off. If you’re lucky, I might even sneak off to the toilet to be sick, before ducking out the side-door to avoid awkward goodbyes before I stumble onto the night bus.
So, the short answer is: you will never ever meet a woman who is exactly like a sex blogger, because sex bloggers are – as everyone is online to a certain extent – curated versions of our incompetent, real-life selves. But that’s OK, because that’s not really the question these guys are asking. What they’re usually asking is this:
Thinking of someone else in bed – yes or no?
A friend of mine recently quizzed me on what I think about while shagging. Or, more specifically, who.
I’m drawing a blank, I’m afraid. I mean, it’s not like I go unconscious as soon as I get my kit off, but in terms of mental energy I don’t think I have more than is required to focus on what’s happening at any given moment. I’m not saying this to boast about how amazingly focused I am on sex – I don’t think ‘thinking about a celebrity arse’ is some sort of crime, for which you get a tick in the ‘bad sex’ column. I just don’t happen to do it.
Other people do though, apparently, at least according to my friend who – while humping a guy she didn’t really get that excited by – has lived a full and rich mental life in which she’s performed sex acts on most of her favourite TV stars and a few of mine to boot.
Guest blog: One woman’s adventures in deepthroat
One of the most popular things I write about is also one of the most ‘Marmite’ – you either love it or you hate it: Throatfucking. Deepthroat. Enthusiastic head.
Some people, like me, are big fans of it. I like it not just because there’s a joyful sense of satisfaction and achievement if I can swallow the whole of someone’s cock. That’s nice of course but what really makes my cunt throb is the noises that he makes when I manage to get it right in. The moans at the back of his throat when the head of his prick slips down past mine, and my lips touch the base of his shaft. Yet for all those who love it, there are others who’d rather stay shallow and avoid the choking fullness of the whole palaver.
This is by way of introduction to this week’s guest blog, and to explain that if you’re one of the latter people, and deep throat just isn’t your thing, then this blog probably isn’t for you. If, on the other hand, this kind of head turns you on like nothing else, then you’ll be as pleased as I am to read Beth’s guest blog. Deeply filthy, intensely hot, and very Not Safe For Work, here’s her deepthroat adventure…
BDSM switching is hot: here’s my favourite way to do it
At my first ever munch about – oooh, a million years ago now – the first question people asked was: “are you a top or a bottom?” As we mingled with a bunch of exceptionally friendly people, dressed in anything from jeans and t-shirt to ropework and pants, everyone wanted to know:
“Top or bottom?”
“Domme or sub?”
What are you?
For want of a better word, we both said ‘switch.’ Having done our research (read: furiously masturbated to a number of blog posts and forum debates) we figured that our ‘whatever we fancy at the time’ attitude probably best fit into that category. Neither of us was a particularly dominant person, nor were either of us comfortable being cast in the role of submissive, nervous that it would prevent us from having the same kind of playful back-and-forth that was a staple of our usual nights out.
Kinda silly, really, but we were young, and hadn’t a sodding clue what we were doing.