We all know that communicating about sex is vital. Whether it’s sending a hot email with your filthy plans for the evening, or asking your partner just how hard they want to be spanked, sex cannot possibly be fun unless you know which bits the other person likes.

And yet for some reason people laugh when I ask the burning questions.

Are you sad that you can’t fit your whole fist in me?

Is it nice if I keep sucking for a bit after you’ve come?

Do the ‘blow-job-imitating cock sheaths actually feel like a blow job?

For some reason I am known as one who irritates – even pesters – gentlemen I fuck about the deep details of their opinions on anything to do with sex.

What’s the best porn you’ve ever seen?

Have you ever warmed up a melon and then fucked it?

Or their bodies…

When you hold your dick to stop yourself pissing, does the semi mean you stop needing to go, or just that you can’t go?

Do you like the taste of your own spunk?

Can you tell the difference between this [wanks off with right hand] and this [wanks off with left hand]?

The truth is that, while a lot of these questions are there because I’m just tingling with curiosity…

Is it more fun to jizz loads in volume, or to jizz with force and power?

What’s better: coming inside me or coming on my tits?

Many of them are there because the very act of him answering turns me on. Watching his eyes glaze over as he considers the implications – the details – of each question I ask makes my blood run hot and my mind run into overdrive.

If I rub my cunt on your feet while I’m sucking you, does that put you off your own orgasm?

When we first got together, did you used to wank about me?

Do you still wank about me?

As I ask about it, I like to think about him doing it. And I know that while he may not share my fantasies, he’s more than happy to play along with them for a few minutes – to give me that delicious sense of sexual hope that comes from his temporary uncertainty about the answer.

Would you suck another dude off and let me watch?

Do you prefer to come on my tits or my arse?

What’s the most wanks you have ever had in a day?

And I know it can sometimes be trying…

No, but hypothetically, if you were going to suck another dude off and let me watch, which dude would you pick?

Or clumsy…

If you could get a hand job from anyone, would you rather someone with huge hands so they could envelop your cock, or tiny hands to make your cock look massive?

Or downright bizarre…

If we were having sex, and I turned into a zombie halfway through, would you keep going?

But I love asking questions – I love it. I love that despite the oddness of my pillow-talk investigations, he takes this shit seriously. No matter what I ask. Whether it’s weird hypotheticals…

Any kind of sex you want with just one person, or only blow jobs forever but from as many people as you like?

Would you rather never wank again but get shagged once a month, or never shag again but can wank as often as you like?

If I transported you back in time, blindfolded, to different sexual encounters, could you tell who you were fucking just based on the shape and feel of their cunt round your dick?

Ridiculous scenarios…

If you saw me in an Amsterdam window, how much would you pay for a shag?

What’s five Euros in British money?

Tittilating possibilities…

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever shoved up your arse?

Which of these x-rated Tumblr gifs is your favourite?

Tentative suggestions…

Your opinion on spunk bubbles?

Could you come just from me doing… this? [does ‘this’]

Or genuine concerns…

Do I taste different at different times of the month?

Have you ever woken up when I’ve been wanking next to you in bed?

I love the questions – I love the chat. From the sublime, through the terrifying, to the so-ridiculous-he-can-barely-give-an-answer. Because it’s not the questions themselves that matter – it’s the fact that I’m asking them. That I’m saying “hey, I’m really interested in this. I’m interested in you. Now please tell me everything you can about your penis.”

I know it gets irritating sometimes, and when it’s late at night and we’re lying in bed, and I have his dick in my hand, often the last thing he wants to do is engage in a surreal sexual game show.

Pizza or buttsex? Blowjobs or throatfucks? Nancy Botwin or Danaerys Targaryen?

But he answers. Because he knows that the best way to give me a window into his desires is to give me the rapid-fire answers to sexual questions. If you asked me what I like sexually I could write two thousand words that passably reflect what goes on in my head: the thrusting, aching, wet desire that covers all the things I truly love. He, on the other hand, would sit in front of a blank page for half an hour and eventually scrawl “tits” before throwing it into the bin. But neither of us would come close to really nailing the nuanced and subtle things that push us into arousal.

He answers my questions because the answers paint the picture that neither of us can fully do with words. Because alongside zombies, time-travel, spunk-force and Amsterdam windows, what I’m actually asking is:

What do you like?

And that’s my favourite question of all.

 

Note: All of these are genuine questions I have asked my boyfriend at one point or another. He helped me write the list for this blog post, and there were about a hundred more that didn’t make the final cut. If you have any questions you’d ask your partner, chuck them in the comments and let’s see if we can get different people answering them!

Earlier this week, something bizarre and horrible popped up in my facebook feed: the Metro’s list of “27 things men do in bed that women hate.” That link goes via DoNotLink, so shouldn’t give them traffic.

The article in question lists 27 things which women hate men doing in bed. Normally I’d expect an article like this to raise my hackles because it would probably tick off a few things that I bloody LOVE guys doing in bed but which don’t happen to float everyone’s boat. It’d be the universal generalisations that get me, and I’d probably give it a quick mention in passing, before stamping off to get enraged at HuffPo’s shit dating advice or something.

On this occasion, however, it was far worse than that.

Normally I’d write an angry, sweary rant about how appalling it is in the hope I could whip enough people up into outrage that they’d kick off about it. But I’m very tired and very ill and far too late to make a significant difference with this, so I’m kicking myself. A couple of people asked me to write it up, though, and I feel like perhaps a voice or two shouting into the ether might help a tiny bit in getting the message across that this is totally unacceptable, so here goes.

 The following content comes with a massive trigger warning.

Things not to do in bed because they’re annoying

There are some things in the article I agree with – things that guys have done with me in the past, and I can understand why they might be irritating to some. These include such side-splitting classics as:

“When you’re on top and they’re just staring at you and it’s like, ahhh what face do I pull?”

and

“Trying to remove underwear with their teeth.”

I’m quite partial to the latter, but I can see why it grates on people. I’ll still quibble about the idea that all men should stop doing it ever, but in principle there’s nothing appalling about this. Unfortunately, in its other tips, this Metro list takes a turn for the much more fucking appalling.

Things not to do in bed because they’re assault

These are all direct quotes from the article, sold alongside the points above. Sold as ‘irritating’ behaviour at worst. Presented as tricks that women have cottoned on to, and which they laugh about with their mates while wishing you’d just cut it out:

“Pulling your hair so hard you scream and your eyes water.”

“Being so aggressive with their hands during foreplay that they pretty much give you internal bleeding and bruising.”

What. The. Fuck.

These things are not annoying, as the article presents them. They are assault.

Now, as one who engages in BDSM activity a lot, it would be remiss of me not to mention that I play like this quite frequently. I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that within the context of a trusting relationship, in which I am consenting, and in which my partner fully understands what I love him to do, neither of those specific physical actions is bad per se. However – and it’s a ‘however’ written in such gigantic flashing lights that you can see it from the fucking moon – this is not stuff that it is ever OK to just surprise your partner with. And, like any other sexual behaviour, it is never ever OK to keep doing it after your partner has indicated they don’t like it.

If you accidentally pull someone’s hair too hard: that sucks. If you deliberately pull someone’s hair so hard that their eyes water, if it is something that they explicitly hate and especially – as is heavily implied by the title of the article – you do it repeatedly?  Then that is assault, and you are an appalling, horrible gutter-scraping of a person.

You know this already, of course, but Metro clearly doesn’t, because it gets worse.

Things not to do in bed because they’re rape

“Casually trying to have anal sex without asking and without lube. It does not just slip in there.”

Yeah, that says what you think it says. Again, here’s the thing: I’m up for my partner having a go (although not without lube – he understands the laws of physics and realises that friction there isn’t sexy at all), but only because I have fucking told him I am. He understands what I like and what I don’t, roughly when I like it (and how), and because we have had lots of conversations before about the fact that I bloody love it when he slips my knickers down and lubes me up.

Most importantly, he knows all the signs I give that mean I’m not up for it on a particular occasion. The only reason I can trust him to play in the way we both enjoy, and the one reason I trust him to fuck me in the arse, is because on countless occasions in the past he has recognised my stop signs, abided by them, and put his fucking dick away.

There’s a subtle and nuanced debate to be had about safewords, hard play, bondage, and power exchange. I love having that debate with people here all the time. But this, Metro, is nothing like that fucking debate. It is an overt list of things that women have told you they hate, and I think in that instance you have a responsibility to present ‘unwanted sex’ not as an irritation or a frustration but as what it very plainly is – rape.

Things not to do in bed that you might not have realised were offensive

Here’s a more subtle one: can you spot it? Having listed the many different ways in which guys can ‘annoyingly’ assault girls, they throw this ‘annoying habit’ in:

“When they just stop, and it’s like, “hello? Did you hear me orgasm?” No.”

This is something women find annoying. Fair enough: it is a bit annoying. But the implication here is that men should stop doing that, and I’m afraid to say that is just not an OK thing to ask of someone. Why? Well, the speaker is essentially saying that it’s not OK to stop during sex if your partner hasn’t come yet. Still not sure why that’s dodgy? Let’s gender-flip this bad boy:

“Man, I was having sex with my girlfriend the other day and she stopped halfway through. I hadn’t come. How annoying. Obviously she’s obliged not to stop before I’ve come.”

Unfortunately, no matter how annoying it is not to come during sex, and how selfish it might be if a regular partner doesn’t put in the requisite effort to make you come, they are never obliged to continue having sex with you. No matter what their gender. No matter whether you’ve orgasmed yet. No matter how close you might be. Anyone has the right to withdraw their consent at any time. I shouldn’t have to say this.

Things not to write in the paper because they’re irresponsible

The Metro claims that the points on their list came when they ‘threw the question out to facebook.’ I’ve looked at their facebook page and can find no trace of them asking this question, so I’m a bit curious as to whether they asked, then deleted the answers. But that’s by the by.

The fact is that if you ask people what they ‘hate’ their partner doing in bed, and you’re fishing for amusing anecdotes, you have a responsibility not to lump assault in with those roll-in-the-aisle gags. You’ll make it look like it is merely an inconvenience – something that just happens to people, and to which the best response is a giggle, an eye-roll, or a quick click of the ‘share this article’ button.

The vast majority of men aren’t ignorant of these issues, but in publishing this you might make some men think it’s OK to surprise their partner with anal that she expressly doesn’t want. You might give more people the idea that their partner has an obligation to make them come. And you may well give women the impression that they should just put up with physical assault, and cross their fingers in the hope that their scum partner happens to chance across a Buzzfeed-style list of sex tips and eventually check his shit behaviour.

If you want some more informed advice on these issues, visit Rape Crisis, or any of these places that give support for men and boys.

Are blow-jobs feminist? Are shoes feminist? Are Cadbury’s Mini-Eggs feminist? Come on, feminists, get your fucking act together. There needs to be a Feminist List of things that are OK to do, and things that aren’t, otherwise we’ll be dithering around forever and will eventually be crushed under the weight of bikini-waxing strips we’re not entirely sure we’re allowed to use.

Every now and then someone publishes an article letting us know whether a particular thing is either feminist or not. We’ve had high heels, no make up selfies, Game of Thrones, any number of things. Basically there’s an idea that says feminism can be defined by a bucket-list of tickboxes, and if you check the right ones in the Buzzfeed-esque “How Feminist Are You?” test then you get a special golden hammer with which to smash the patriarchy.

It’s mostly toss.

I’m not an expert in high heels, or selfies, or any of that bollocks, but I am certainly pretty opinionated when it comes to sex. That’s why, when Any Girl Friday published a very balanced and interesting blog discussing the feminist merits (or demerits) of giving blowjobs, I was all over it like my own lips on cock.

Are blow jobs anti-feminist?

No, they are not. And you can probably tell that I’m not going to take quite such a balanced view as AGF, because I love giving blow jobs, and I am a feminist, so saying that they are an anti-feminist thing would be to brand myself a disgraceful hypocrite.

Blow jobs are ‘feminist’ in the same way as almost any other act: there is no inherent quality of ‘feminism’ that can be applied to a particular thing. I make breakfast every morning, and that breakfast gives me the energy to write angry feminist rants, but the act of making of it isn’t an inherently feminist one.

I think what makes an activity ‘feminist’ is mostly about the context: your motivation, the consequences of the activity, and so on. The act itself plays only a very tiny role. For example:

Susan stands outside 10 Downing Street holding up a placard that says “equal pay for women.” Is this a feminist thing to do? Yeah, probably. But what if I tell you that the reason Susan is holding the sign is because her mate has gone on a toilet break. Actually she’s not that bothered about equal pay for women, she just wants to help out her mate. Suddenly holding the sign isn’t a feminist act at all.

So, let’s apply this to blow jobs. Any Girl Friday says that:

It’s wrong to ignore that potential pitfalls of unequal power distribution involved in the act of giving head… For one, the giver is in a submissive, subservient position. They are often on their knees or in a vulnerable position – this is clearly a situation where trust is paramount. In addition, we have a whole misogynistic nightmare on our hands with regards to the language sometimes used in porn, rap songs, media. I’ve heard men say things like ‘choke on this, bitch’ and ‘I’ll force you down and make you gag.’ … Instead of being a mutually beneficial sexual act, revered alongside giant chocolate buttons and unicorns, it becomes another way of men claiming our bodies and rights to our sexuality.

I’m down with some (although not all) blow jobs having submissive connotations: I’m a sub, and to be honest I’m mostly interested in giving head as a means for my partner to use me in all kinds of horrible, consensual, utterly cunt-drenching ways. But even female submission itself isn’t ‘anti-feminism’ – it only appears so if you strip it of all meaningful context.

Expecting all women to give head like that, to ‘choke on this’ and ‘gag on it, bitch’? That’s pretty anti-feminist. But when you add in the context – that this is something I not only choose to do but that gets me off pretty hard? Then it’s actually pretty anti-feminist to tell me I shouldn’t do it.

A guy once asked me whether my desire for buttsex was letting down the sisterhood, and I’ll repeat what I told him: sex isn’t a University debate, and what you do in the bedroom doesn’t have to impact your life outside it. Just as you can enjoy getting spanked by your girlfriend yet refuse to take shit from your boss, it’s perfectly possible for your dick end to make contact with the back of my throat and for you to still respect my opinions, and live with me in an equal relationship.

Does head have to be reciprocated in order to be feminist?

AGF raises an interesting question about reciprocation: are blow jobs expected in a straight relationship while cunnilingus falls by the wayside? Obviously it depends on the relationship, but she does raise a fair few examples of people claiming that giving head to a woman is more intimate/difficult, thus it isn’t be a cornerstone of regular straight activity in a way that blow jobs are.

That’s a shame, it really is. Because, you know, if your partner likes getting head just as much as you do, and there’s an unequal balance of head-giving in your relationship, then that’s pretty crap for your partner. But likewise if your partner likes you to cook for them and you never bloody do it, that’s pretty crap for your partner too. Whether it’s anti-feminist or not depends on the context – in this case, the ‘why?’

Are you a straight dude who refuses to give head because you believe that blow jobs are more important/significant than female pleasure? Congratulations: you’re a twat. And you’re also not a feminist.

Are you a straight dude who refuses to give head because you just cannot stand the taste/smell/activity, and you’d much rather do something else? That is a sexual choice. And, while it might upset your partner, it is as legitimate a sexual choice as deciding not to do anal, or saying ‘no’ to hand jobs, or any of the other things that it’s totally fine to refuse. If your partner believes that oral sex should be reciprocal, then you might need to suck up the fact that you’re not going to get head if you don’t want to give it, but your partner cannot demand that you reciprocate just so that you don’t come across as a bad feminist. That’s shitty.

There is a huge problem with the way we talk about this stuff – the fact that in casual conversation blow jobs are often seen as a given, something that straight women absolutely must do if they want to be an enlightened, 21st-Century have-it-all kind of girl. I hate the assumption that if you don’t give head enough you’ll ‘lose your man’, the coy giggling way we pressure women to swallow spunk like they’re chugging tequila shots, and above all the occasional vague suggestion that giving head is a crucial part of a woman’s role in a straight relationship.

All of this is anti-feminist. All of this is shit. But it’s not the sexual act that’s shit, it’s the expectation, and the pressure. I don’t want that pressure on women to be replaced with a new, and equally unfair, pressure on men. If you don’t want to get on your knees and lick my chuff like I’m sponsored by Solero, then you never ever have to.

Which sex acts are anti-feminist?

I honestly cannot think of any. No, really. While almost any act, in a particular context, can potentially be good or bad for women, individual sex acts aren’t good or bad in and of themselves. Anal sex isn’t anti-feminist. Blow jobs aren’t anti-feminist. Giving your partner a hand job on the back of the night bus is not anti-feminist. As I’ve said before, sex is not the opposite of feminism.

What is anti-feminist is trying to dictate women’s sexual choices: tell them that they should or shouldn’t desire a particular thing in virtue of the fact that they’re a woman. Telling me I don’t have to give blow jobs if I don’t want to is entirely sensible and decent advice. Telling me I shouldn’t give blow jobs because I’m letting the side down is unnecessarily intrusive and repressive. Which brings me on to my final point.

Should feminists demand more cunnilingus?

In the article, AnyGirlFriday says this:

“I believe that women who give but don’t ask [for pleasure of any kind – not just oral] in return are contributing to a generation of men who believe they are entitled to pleasure.”

Which is a shame. We’ve chatted about it on Twitter and I struggled to explain why this sentence rubbed me up the wrong way.  In a few more words, and after a bit more thought, I think I’ve worked it out:

I don’t like getting head – it’s just not as fun for me as a hand-job or a shag, or any one of a million other things I do to get off. If I don’t like getting head, but I do like giving it, then it would seem that I can’t have the sex I like without ‘contributing to a generation of men who believe they are entitled to pleasure.’ I’m promoting sexual inequality with every dick I suck, and every time I pull his face up from between my legs and say “don’t bother, I just want you to fuck me.”

Luckily, though, that’s not the case at all. Because I don’t believe that an unequal distribution of head is anti-feminist, no matter how problematic society’s sexual attitudes may be. My individual sex life is about giving and receiving pleasure without being made to feel guilty about what I do or don’t want. It’s about enthusiastically sucking cock, and enthusiastically receiving hand jobs, and rejecting those things that don’t get me off.

In fact, let’s take this further: faking orgasms isn’t anti-feminist. Not getting much physical pleasure from sex isn’t anti-feminist. Choosing to have sex because your partner wants it even though you could take it or leave it this evening? Not anti-feminist. Again, these are simple acts, which only become feminist or not when given context. I’m never going to tell you that doing any one of these individual things is good, bad or ugly without fully understanding your reasons for doing them. You’re making a choice about what to do with your body. A choice that no one else gets to dictate. Not even feminists.

This blog post written with huge thanks to AnyGirlFriday for kicking off the discussion – please do check out her blog, which I’ve recently discovered. She writes on loads of interesting topics, and I hope she doesn’t mind my hijacking her thoughts to have a rant around the issue.

I’m not an expert on sex toys. I have some, I’ve had others, and as a general rule I buy a new one every few months, then use it until either I or the guy I’m with is bored of it, or until it accidentally gets lodged somewhere it shouldn’t and we never use it again.

However, what I am an expert in is ‘inadvertently fucking things up to create maximum embarrassment for those around me’. So, to go along with the genuinely useful guides on safe sex toy storage and how to care for sex toys to make sure they last as long as possible, I thought I’d chip in with some tips of my own, based on a few choice fuck-ups I’d prefer not to repeat.

How to store sex toys so your Mum doesn’t find them

If you’re reading this, you should be over 18. However, as the housing market turns into a pit of howling souls and burning money, and thirty year-olds find themselves priced out of even the most basic rented accommodation, there are probably a fair few of you who live with your parents. Should you find yourself going away for a protracted period of time, heed rule 1: lock your sex toys away in a safe place.

A good friend of mine went away to University and failed to heed this rule. A month or so into the first term, she got a phone call from her mother.

“I found something under your bed. It’s a battery-powered thing.”

“Oh, really?” She panicked. “I… umm… what were you doing under my bed?”

“Tidying. But don’t worry, I didn’t throw it away…” Pause for dramatic effect. “I cleaned it and put it back.”

Cleaned it.

Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with having a relationship so close that your mother feels it’s OK to clean your sex toys, but this clearly was not one of those relationships. My friend’s level of embarrassment was so high that she dedicated the next weekend to a round-trip home so she could sort and dispose of anything that had previously been into contact with her vagina.

I’ve had similar panics myself – not from my own Mum, who would no more go through my drawers than she’d read my dirty sex book, but the mother of an ex-boyfriend of mine, who once found an item that we’d stored under his bed.

She never mentioned it to us, so we were spared the conversation. I could probably have coped with a “hide your sex toys better” conversation, but my fear was that the object we’d hidden might spark the far more excruciating “what exactly is this for?” question. We only knew she’d discovered it because, when he returned from his trip, not only had it been wrapped in a carrier bag and pushed right to the back, but she’d also hidden one of her own – ahem – personal items alongside it.

In case you’re wondering what the toy in question was, it was this.

How to store sex toys so your nosy flatmates don’t find them

You might think that, having moved away from home, you wouldn’t have to worry much about this stuff. No one’s going to come into your room and insist you pick your knickers up off the floor, and nor are they going to root around in your bedside drawers to see what’s inside.

You would be reckoning on housemates that were not like Steve. Steve (obviously not his real name) was a housemate I had at University. He was the kind of smarmy arsehole who would listen through paper-thin walls when you were having sex with someone then complain loudly in the morning that you had disturbed his sleep. How did I know that he listened through the walls? Another of my housemates told me, because he had been bragging to that housemate that holding a glass to the wall and listening to some of the things I got up to was “much better than paying for porn.”

‘Flattered’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.

One weekend I nipped back to my hometown for a couple of days to recharge my batteries by drinking gin with my Mum and caterwauling showtunes with her into the early hours of the morning. Unfortunately, being a trusting soul, I had neglected to clear away the toys I’d played with the night before I left, and there was something sitting relatively exposed in the middle of my bed.

When I returned home, Steve greeted me with a smug smile.

“That money I owed you – I left it on your bedside table,” he smarmed.

“Umm… OK. Why didn’t you leave it on the kitchen side, like we always do?”

“I just… I thought it would be safer in your bedroom.” There was a long pause, while he grinned even more greasily, and I knew exactly which question was coming next. “That thing on your bed. What exactly is it for?”

It was one something a little like this.

How to dispose of sex toys so your neighbours don’t find them

I was raised on a diet of lentils and The Guardian, so I’d always aim to recycle products if I can. However with sex toys this has been limited to taking the batteries out and putting them in one of those recycling bins you find in supermarkets.

I don’t really know how you go about recycling them responsibly. Perhaps I could just collect them, then glue them all together in some sort of fucksculpture for my living room. If I get enough, I could create a sex toy throne to sit on as I watch porn, reveling in all the rubber cocks I’ve vanquished during wanks past.

But when it comes to proper sex toy recycling, I’m at a bit of a loss. What I can tell you for sure, though, is that you should absolutely not seal them into cardboard boxes with a pile of other un-recyclable rubbish then leave them out overnight for the council to collect.

It turns out that:

a) the council is not as efficient in collecting stuff as they promise on their website and

b) mysterious boxes sealed and placed next to your bins are infinitely tempting to thieves.

I came home one afternoon to find ripped boxes and bin bags all over my front lawn, and jelly cock-rings and vibrating butt-plugs strewn liberally across the pavement. My humiliation was almost complete – all I needed was for a concerned neighbour to slip a note through my letterbox asking: “what exactly is this stuff for?”

UPDATE: if you do want to recycle your old sex toys, the excellent Nymphomaniac Ness has published a fantastic guide on how to recycle sex toys. Please do check it out, and make sure that your wanks have as low a carbon footprint as possible.