It’s that time of year again, and honestly while I wanna adopt a world-weary tone of ‘oh God yet more sex toy sales’, it’d be churlish of me to do that because this genuinely is one of the best times of year to pick up some bargains. This page is going live with the currently available sex toy deals and I’ll update it each time another site sponsor opens up their Black Friday sex toy deals, so keep an eye on the page.

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I’m delighted to welcome this week’s guest blogger, who is here to talk about their wide range of dating experiences. What’s different about dating when you’re perceived as a cis woman vs a gay man? And although no experience is universal, are there any dating experiences that come close to that? Please welcome Mel McGovern, a non-binary dating enthusiast who you can find on Patreon, on Twitter @futurephoria, and on Instagram @futurephoria.

CN: brief mentions of rape

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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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It’s a huge gamble, both of us know that, so we’re careful to tiptoe gently around the implications. I haven’t seen this guy in many many years, and he lives far enough away that we can’t just catch up over a drink. A visit? For three nights? It’s a huge gamble. But he asks me at exactly the right point – says ‘shall I come and stay for a bit?’ when I’m feeling brave and horny. So I bury the doubts, keep my expectations low, embrace the knowledge that life is far more fun if you gamble sometimes and tell him ‘fuck it, yes.’

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If someone were to ask me what I bring to the table, sex-wise, I wouldn’t mention specific parts of my body. My body is fine, my hair is fine, my clothes are basically clothes. I like to think I’ve got a pretty filthy grin, but apart from that my physicality is nothing to either write home or pen a strongly-worded letter of complaint about. So if we’re having sex, what I’m bringing to the party isn’t my body, it’s my attitude. To be blunt: my enthusiasm.

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