Tag Archives: boys I’ve slept with
One Weird Trick To Blow Their Mind In Bed
I thought there were none. I thought there were no bed-located tricks that were universal. I assumed that all humans, due to our unique-like-snowflake sexual preferences and genital configuration and kinks and quirks and loves: I thought there would be no universal Trick To Blow Their Mind In Bed.
But if there were one, and I’m not necessarily saying there is, then it might be this:
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.
All the ways in which Star Wars stopped me getting laid
OR: The inevitable folly of pretending you like shit just to get people to fuck you
I fucking hate Star Wars. I hate it. I hate it more than any reasonable human could be expected to hate a thing. Are the films themselves shit? Maybe. I have only seen one and a half of them (don’t ask me which ones, I could not give one iota of a toss).
I hate Star Wars because, on numerous occasions, my ignorance of it has stood in the way of me getting laid.
I am a fan of nerdy people. I think they’re hot and I like to fuck them. I would happily take five or six of the nerdiest people I know, lie them in a row on a giant double bed covered in Darth Vader bedsheets, and fuck them until one or other of them awakened the force.
Like Doctor Who, I tried to get into Star Wars because (shameless, shameless, shameless) quite a few nerdy guys I fancied kept talking about it, and I figured that if I wanted to get some geek dick I would need to learn what a Milennium Falcon was. Luckily for me, Doctor Who is really good, so what began as a gentle foray into something (“I like horror so I’ll go in with Weeping Angels and OH MY GOD THIS IS EXCELLENT PLEASE PUT ALL OF IT INTO MY BRAIN”) turned into a pretty long term love affair.
Unluckily for me, Star Wars is a tedious, overhyped shitshower, and Luke Skywalker isn’t even hot.
Wicked Wednesday: Chance meetings with ex-boyfriends
“If we could have a threesome with any of your ex-boyfriends, who would it be?”
Ah, this question. This question sounds like a trap, but it isn’t. It’s the start of an exploratory conversation, at the end of which he’ll tell me a story that will make my cunt slick – he just wants to tailor it correctly.
Getting head from a dominant guy
I sometimes struggle with getting head – finding it hard to get out of my comfort zone when I don’t feel any element of my own submission. But when he tells me ‘I want to taste you,’ it is not submissive. He’s not begging me for a lick that I may or may not deign to give him: he’s issuing a command. In the same way as he’s issuing a command if he tells me ‘bend over’ or ‘take off your knickers’ or – holy fuck this happened recently and it still makes me so horny I squirm – ‘squeeze that cock.’ Uttered in a breathless rush just before the grunt as he comes.