I have a lot of friends who embrace nonmonogamy – i.e. relationships where you are both open to the idea of forming romantic/sexual bonds with more than one person – as opposed to monogamy, where you pair off with one person, avoid shagging anyone else, then eventually cement your bond with matching clogs and a National Trust membership. Naturally, as someone who moves in sex-positive circles, I run into loads of people who have taken the traditional ‘scripts’ we’re taught we should follow when it comes to relationships, and torn them up in favour of writing their own. I love this, and I think the more people who do it the better. However, when I talk to other people about different relationship styles there’s one argument for nonmonogamy that rubs me up the wrong way.

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One of the things I’m finding hilarious about dating again, eleven years after the last time I was single, is that no matter how compatible or otherwise my date and I might be, there is one fact on which we always agree: OK Cupid is shit now. This isn’t a problem with an obvious, easy solution, I just think that when you realise something truly good is gone, it’s important to allow yourself time and space to mourn. OK Cupid sucks horrible arse these days, and I know I’m late to this revelation but I’m super fucking sad about it, and I wanted to have a little rant.

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I’m not going to call this a ‘guilty’ pleasure because it’s just a pleasure, but I’m a sucker for problem pages. I adore reading about the trials of other people’s lives, and soaking up the often-very-wise advice they receive. I also enjoy mining them for content, because sometimes I’ll find a letter that addresses a topic I really want to talk about. Or in today’s case, some advice that I want to rip to pieces. Today: an advice columnist berates a woman for destroying her marriage because she’s decided she doesn’t want children! Yay!

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Inside you there are two wolves. One of the wolves is slutty-as-hell. She wants to get fucked and fucked up: suck dicks, swallow cum, be brutally whipped and beaten by a parade of eager partners. Have someone hold her nose while she chokes on cock, and have someone else slide butt plugs into her ass to make her cunt tighter while she’s pounded. The other wolf wants to be loved.

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Recently someone emailed me a question that went a little something like this: “you’ve alluded to wanting a spitroast/gang bang before. But there are clubs in London where this happens every night! Why don’t you just go to one of those?!” It is not an uncommon question, and I suspect it’s one that quite a lot of horny, slutty women get asked, so I thought I’d have a crack at answering it. I don’t think everyone will feel the same way I do, but (with thanks to the person who asked the question) here’s why this pervy woman isn’t in sex clubs every night.

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