I am sitting with my toyboy on his exceptional sofa. This is a sofa designed for fucking, and I am visiting him this evening because I want to get fucked. We’ve talked about it over WhatsApp and I’ve been thinking about it on the train on the way here. What’s more, if he’s done as he’s been instructed then he’ll have edged himself at least once a day for the last few days in anticipation of me pulling down his PJs and riding him like a show pony. If anyone could be said to be ‘in there’, it is him. And yet for some reason he occasionally forgets how to use his words. Doesn’t understand that when you want a fuck you’re allowed to just ask for it. One of the aspects of domination that I’m really getting into is forcing encouraging him to voice his desires aloud. So I decide that I won’t let him get away with wordless pleading: if he wants a shag, I’m gonna make him ask for it.

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The other day, I texted a man about his penis in all-caps, simply saying ‘TOUCH IT’. In context, it made sense, however should that man ever take against me, he has not only that but countless other random enthusiastic sex-related texts that he could (though hopefully never would) make public. Including the ones in the image for this post. I think words are pretty powerful, and if you wouldn’t share someone’s nudes (which you absolutely shouldn’t – no, not even if they were sent to you non-consensually) please don’t share their sexts either.

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Ever wondered what it’s like to star in a sex blog? Or been curious to meet one of the men who’s inspired so much of the filth on these pages? Now’s your chance – this week I published an interview with one of my amazing dudes: the Bracelet Game guy.

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‘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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I’m down at the moment, and sometimes when I’m down I like to wallow in romance. But it’s not romance like ‘we’re getting married’ or romance like ‘we’re gonna fuck’, it’s the romance that pulses through friendship – steady and unwavering and safe and comfortable – never needing to escalate because it’s already right where it should be. Come on holiday with me and my best mate.

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