Tag Archives: advice

How to have the best orgasm ever (if you are me)

There are any number of sex writers who’ll tell you how to achieve the ultimate, mind-blowing, amazing orgasm. Unfortunately, the way your body works may not be the same as the way mine works, so I can’t promise you stars and explosions and earth moving unless you happen to be formed in exactly the same way I am.

What I can do though is tell you that the other day I had the Best Orgasm I Have Ever Had, along with some lurid and sticky detail.

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Guest series: 24 year old virgin (part two)

Last week I put up the first in a three-part series by Mary. Mary is (or was) a 24-year-old virgin, and she wanted to write a series detailing her first-time experiences, and tackling some of the myths and misconceptions about virginity.

Read part one here, if you haven’t already, in which Mary meets A on Tinder, is delighted to discover just how soft penis skin is, and almost gets busted by a passing cyclist when she gets a bit handsy in public. When you’re up to date, check out part 2 below, where we join Mary and A as they’re working out what to do next…

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So someone claimed that ‘broody feminists’ are being silenced…

Yesterday I read an article by a ‘broody feminist‘ I wasn’t, initially, sure what one of these was, so I clicked through wondering if it might be a new faction of feminism about which I could have an opinion (I think I probably fall into the category of ‘Opinionated feminists‘, or somewhere on the venn diagram where they cross over with ‘Drunk feminists’ and ‘Feminists who like crisps’). It turns out that a ‘broody feminist’ is just a feminist who wants children. The author, Charlotte Gill, explains that:

“as feminism has progressed, saying you want babies has become deeply unfashionable – synonymous with “I have no career ambition.” On the other hand, a child-free existence has been painted as progressive and exciting, sold successfully by celebrities like Jennifer Aniston and Kylie Minogue.”

Which is interesting, because it’s not really true. Sure, it is very slowly becoming more acceptable for women to say ‘I don’t want kids’, and we’re no longer treated like we’re the gruesome offspring of the Childcatcher and Cruella DeVille. But I think calling it ‘fashionable’ is quite a leap – given Daily Mail headlines that screech at us about our biological clocks, and misguided advice by people like Kirstie Allsopp about how we should all have a baby or two before we try and get a degree. I won’t spend too long on the truth or otherwise of the argument, because I’m sure you know that while many people are fighting to emphasise that you don’t have to choose to procreate, there’s still an assumption that you will. There’s definitely not, as Charlotte seems to be arguing, a dominant feminist view that parenthood is a Bad Choice for everyone.

If I could wave a magic wand that changed our narrative around children, I wouldn’t be arguing that fewer women should choose to have them, or that we should all have them at certain times or what have you, I’d change it to this:

  • Having kids is one of many options when it comes to making life choices.
  • It shouldn’t be assumed that anyone either will or won’t have kids: no matter what their gender, relationship status, etc.

In short, having kids is a bit like training for a marathon – it can be incredibly rewarding, it’s definitely admirable, but it’s also a lot of effort so not everyone wants to do it. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about kids – have ’em, don’t have ’em, whatever makes you happy. Here I want to talk about silence…

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My brand new system on how to be the best at dating

Did you know that men have evolved to have slightly louder voices than women? Well, it’s true. As a general rule, men will speak at a higher volume than women do, and will tend to dominate more conversations. This is because, in our evolutionary past, it was necessary for men to put in most of the hard work to find mates. Alongside the usual: standing around looking rugged, they also used their mating megaphones (a primitive feature which eventually evolved into the mouth) to shout for female attention. ‘Ugg!’, or what have you – I don’t know, I don’t speak neanderthal, but it was basically a primitive version of ‘hey darling, I am ready to impregnate you in order to further the species! Check out my spaff-packets and make your choice!’ The rest, as they say, is history.

Now, before you start writing me angry letters about how actually neanderthal men communicated by dropping a dead mammoth at the feet of their lover, please understand that I made all of the above up. I mean, obviously.

The initial fact may or may not be true, I don’t know. It sounds maybe a bit plausible, doesn’t it? That men have evolved louder voices? I’ve not checked it, of course, that would take ages. But what I have done is constructed a vaguely plausible story as to why people might have evolved that way, then carefully ignored any facts or examples that might not fit.

Do I win £5?

Crappy evolutionary dating theories

Believe it or not, I get sent quite a few emails from people who have found The Answer when it comes to dating – ‘how to be an alpha male by killing the metaphorical 21st century mammoth’ or what have you. Normally I delete and ignore.

Yesterday’s captured my imagination, though, because it was funnier than the others.

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Please never worry about your strange O face

I once knew a guy with the best orgasm face in the entire world. He really let himself go – screwing up his eyes, opening his mouth, and tensing seemingly every muscle he had. It was sexy, and utterly involuntary, as if his orgasm was being milked out of his dick even as he tried to hold it back. Hot as fuck.

My own? I have no idea – many’s the time I’ve tried to catch the look on my face at the moment of orgasm – usually when fucking in front of a mirror. Luckily, no guy’s ever caught me doing this. Unluckily, like Scroedinger’s cat, the very act of observing it will alter its state. Just as you can never take an un-posed selfie, so you can never look at your own face at the point of climax without either killing the orgasm or making subtle changes to your own expression.

I used to worry deeply about my orgasm face. Occasional comments from guys that I looked, you know, like I’d simultaneously been electrocuted and handed a winning lottery ticket, meant that I feared killing the sexiest moments with a face like the winner of a gurning championship. For some reason this occasionally translated into closing my eyes for a fairly large proportion of a shag. Like a toddler who believes they can’t see you if you can’t see them – I’d assume that my partner would follow the cues and close their eyes too.

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