Tag Archives: communication

This thing we might do

I should probably not get into the habit of telling you stories that haven’t happened yet, but something about the thrill of this was almost – almost – hornier than having actual sex. It started with a conversation at a party, one that involved me whispering something in someone’s ear. Something that started with ‘this might sound weird’ and ended with the words ‘…please ruin me.’

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Why don’t you just go get gang banged in a sex club?

Recently someone emailed me a question that went a little something like this: “you’ve alluded to wanting a spitroast/gang bang before. But there are clubs in London where this happens every night! Why don’t you just go to one of those?!” It is not an uncommon question, and I suspect it’s one that quite a lot of horny, slutty women get asked, so I thought I’d have a crack at answering it. I don’t think everyone will feel the same way I do, but (with thanks to the person who asked the question) here’s why this pervy woman isn’t in sex clubs every night.

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Throb: let me hold your twitching cock

He puts my hand up against his crotch, tells me ‘press here – not too hard’ and twitches his pelvic floor. His muscles flutter at my fingertips and in the palm of my hand, his dick jumps. Throbs. I press my hand tightly against him and stare. Openly. Impolitely. Greedily. I look down his body, see my own hand cupping his cock, and feel the pulsing throb as he works those muscles.

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Don’t be cool, be desperate

If someone were to ask me what I bring to the table, sex-wise, I wouldn’t mention specific parts of my body. My body is fine, my hair is fine, my clothes are basically clothes. I like to think I’ve got a pretty filthy grin, but apart from that my physicality is nothing to either write home or pen a strongly-worded letter of complaint about. So if we’re having sex, what I’m bringing to the party isn’t my body, it’s my attitude. To be blunt: my enthusiasm.

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I’m not always going to do what you want

One of the weird things about being an adult – and I mean an adult adult, not the adult I was in my twenties who spent most of her time trying to please other people – is that I’m starting to recognise more situations in which I cause friction by just… not doing exactly what other people want. By ‘other people’ here, I mostly mean ‘men’.

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