I’ve never been a big fan of massage oil – it gets all sticky on my hands. While it’s delightful to stroke and prod and knead someone else’s body (particularly the arse – God how I love rubbing oiled-up hands on someone’s arse) I’ve always been a bit put off by the fact that when the massage stops and the slippery fucking begins, there’s nowhere to wipe my hands.

Until now, because I have one of these amazing tactile fluidproof sheets, and holy shit do I love it. The following post isn’t a review, it’s just an account of some wet and delicious sex I had. It’s also written pretty much in one take, because I got horny while I was writing it and it was a choice of either editing it for ages or just putting it live then having a wank and a nap. Sorry.

(more…)

When you’re here all the time, I forget who I am on my own. I paint a picture of myself that includes you and it messes around with the truer picture of what I’m actually like.

So this week, while you’re away, I’ve spent the time remembering.

(more…)

On Sunday morning when I slipped back into bed, I realised something: your body changes on a daily basis, and so I will never know every inch of it. It is always new.

From the scent of you, to the heat you radiate, to the marks and curves that come and go: I will never know every detail of your body.

(more…)

“Let’s get some dick in you.”

Storytelling is like sex: so much of it is about the angle. And there are two ways I can tell this dirty story. One ends with a punchline, the other with a perfect climax.

As this is the filthy version, I’ll give it to you quick and hard.

(more…)

I am definitely biased in favour of people with sexy tattoos. Take any guy who is funny or pretty or interesting enough to vaguely grab my attention, slap a tattoo on him, and watch as I turn from mildly intrigued to drooling at the mouth. (more…)