Tag Archives: boys I’ve slept with

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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Sometimes I like to suck cock as self-care

When I’m feeling shitty, I like to suck cock. One of the most frustrating things for me about not having a live-in partner any more (if you discount the fact that, you know, I miss him terribly) is that there’s no easy-access dick to suck when I’m feeling unloveable and down.

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End of No Nut November: a month’s worth of spunk

This story could start at a number of different points. It could begin on the first of December, with me marching through a rainstorm along a muddy canal path, determined not to be late to meet the lovely man who’d promised to fill me with spunk. I could start it a bit earlier, in November, with PMs back-and-forth about sexual frustration and oceans of jizz. But really it begins on October 31st, with a message I sent to this dude which said: ‘Are you doing NNN this year?’

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Sex writing and consent: do people approve their blogs?

It’s important to me that you know this: I don’t publish sexy blog stories about people without their permission. That hasn’t always been the case – when I first started blogging I wrote about people who were so far in my past that I couldn’t have popped back up in their lives to get their OK, so I just fudged a lot of details and shot for anonymity. These days, everyone I’ve slept with recently knows that I’m girl on the net, which handily bypasses some of the more awkward conversations I might have to have with a stranger, and also means there’s no excuse to not ask before I turn our fuckstories into #content. So: sex writing and consent. Do people approve their blog posts? And if so, how does that work?

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