Despite the best efforts of cinema and TV to convince us human beings can be smooth in seduction, most of the time we’re as ham-fisted at that as we are at everything else. Flailing around and trying to act cool when really we’ve no idea what the actual fuck we’re doing. Which is why it’s lovely to encounter someone who manages to pull off a smooth transition: from hanging out to making out, with no pissing about in the middle.

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Back in August last year, I wrote a post called ‘love is an addiction’. In that blog, which I typed up as a distraction to help me hold off the urgent, all-encompassing desire to text my ex-boyfriend, I said this…

“It feels like trying to quit smoking – an exercise as vital as it is futile, at which I have failed every single time I’ve tried. But I still haven’t sent that text so now I wonder if the wasted, flabby muscle that might once have been my willpower is growing with each passing day. Perhaps every text I compose and do not send builds that muscle up – flexes it, makes it stronger. Maybe if I can make it through the next six months, I can make that muscle strong enough that it’ll haul me through to the end of my smoking addiction. Wouldn’t that be a thing?”

Well, here’s a thing: I quit smoking.

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No one ever tells me to my face that I’m greedy, but I am. Right now I trip through life with only a vague idea of what I want, but a raging certainty that I definitely need more of it. More. More drinks, more nights out, more catch-ups with friends I’ve not seen since Covid. More joy, more lust, more playfulness. More sex. More of those evenings which start with a pint and end up with you all tumbling into someone’s flat so you can welcome the dawn together with burgeoning hangovers and the sparkle of brand new friendships. More threesomes that make me feel like it’s my birthday. And because this is a post about the Godemiche Morpheus, inevitably I’m greedy for far more wanking too.

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Did you know this week is Autism Awareness Week? And tomorrow (2nd April) is World Autism Awareness Day. To mark it, @HowlieT has dropped by with a kickass, funny, informative guest blog about sex on the autism spectrum. So whether you are on the spectrum yourself, or you’re shagging someone who is, she has some top tips on things you might want to think about to make sure your banging equals a banging time for both of you.

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One of the inherent difficulties with dating blog readers (and I should note here that I have not done much of it) is that by the time you’ve asked GOTN on a date, there is very very little I can do to make you not want to fuck GOTN. I can turn up, as I always do, looking like a bag of shit. I can get messy drunk and say things that are awkward or uncool. I can sweat like a horse at the Grand National because we’re no longer in the depths of winter but I enjoy a lovely jumper nonetheless. And yet still… you’ve read my blog. You liked my blog. You enjoyed the filth I post so much that you invited me out on a date. So I have a dilemma, which is that I can never really tell if you genuinely like me, or like GOTN.

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