Tag Archives: boys I’ve slept with

Yet another fucking blow job story

Sorry to be a pain, gang. I am writing yet another fucking blow job story. Do you like blow jobs? God, I hope so. I think I’m becoming something of a one-trick pony. If that pony’s trick is sucking cock. Join me my friends, my loves, my ever-patient pals, as I regale you with a tale of yet another fucking blow job.

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Saying ‘no’ is not always easy

‘No’ is a complete sentence, sure. But if you get partway to shagging someone, saying ‘no’ can be genuinely difficult, especially if you want to give them an explanation for why you’ve changed your mind. I’m going to tell you about one of the most awkward ‘no’s I’ve ever said. It’s not the most awkward ‘no’, just one of them. It starts on the south bank of the Thames, around autumn 2020.

It’s hard for me to judge the tone of this piece, and editing it proved tricky. But just so you know up front: this story has a happy ending.

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You’ve got an exceptional dick, please use it wisely

Listen up, my friend. Come closer. I have something very important to tell you. Your dick is fucking fantastic. Really, truly outstanding. Since the first time I grasped it through the fabric of your boxers I knew: this dick will work wonders. It’s a memorable cock. It literally sparks fucking joy. That same dick can also, I assure you, break hearts. So I’m gonna say something that I do not say to everyone: you’ve got an exceptional dick, please use it wisely.

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It can’t hurt to ask, so I’m asking

For reasons that I will explain in a later blog post or (more likely) never explain at all, these days when men come to visit overnight I ask them to sleep in the spare room. It’s nothing personal. No man is allowed to share my bed. The up side of this is that I get a decent night’s sleep which means I am capable of having fun the next day. The down side is that sometimes I find myself lying awake and horny at 5 in the morning, fantasising about the tempting cock attached to the guy in the bedroom next door, lamenting the fact that I have no one to rub my bum against till they get hard and wake up to shag me. Usually I’m an advocate of the motto ‘it can’t hurt to ask!’ but I’m working on the assumption that 5am is a hard limit for almost everyone, so I do not venture to the spare room on a dick hunt. I just pop on a blindfold to shield my eyes from the dawn and debate whether it’s too early in the day to have a wank.

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In the bank/accidental ghosting: how often should you message?

If you are seeing someone on a casual basis, or you’ve agreed that you’re going to date/shag them but haven’t quite done the logistics for meeting up, how often do you message them? Are you checking in regularly to see how they’re doing, or do you consider them ‘in the bank’ and therefore probably not in need of regular contact until it comes time to meet up? What is the difference between being casual about checking in and accidentally ghosting someone?

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