I think I’ve got it: the cast-iron, rock-solid argument for why you should tell me at least some of what you wank about. Not ‘you’ as in ‘everyone’, ‘you’ as in ‘people I am fucking/wooing/thirsting after.’ I know it is kind of terrifying to let someone deep into your horny, fuckdrunk brain, but this is why you should take your courage in both hands and tell me what you wank about anyway.

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I have never measured how many orgasms I can have in one day, but if I were to estimate I reckon my max would be hovering somewhere around double digits, but not much further than that. Ten or eleven feels like a decent achievement, but nothing I’d expect a medal for. Today’s guest blogger, however, definitely deserves a medal. When my site sponsor Hot Octopuss offered a selection of sex toys to bring people joy during lockdown, she pitched me the idea of using the Hot Octopuss AMO bullet vibrator to see how many orgasms she could have in a single day. The results are frankly so impressive that I think I need to turn over my ‘horny pervert’ card to her immediately. Please welcome @EasilyTempted, who put the AMO bullet vibe to excellent use in this epically wank-tastic guest blog.

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This fabulous story about oral fantasies on the beach was written by Cal (@uncmfrtblynmb) and originally appeared on his Medium blog. It is read here by Girl on the Net.

Between the deserted dunes I lay, looking out into the sunset. My skin had taken on new bronze tones after a whole day out at the beach. The bright golden light danced on the shimmering water, so I closed my eyes for some respite.

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Sometimes orgasms are elusive, and other times they’re addictive. But what if you don’t know whether you’ve had one or not? Today’s guest blogger, Ilex, is here to share a story about discovering orgasms long after you’ve discovered sex, and how learning to orgasm later in life has affected her outlook on sex. Oh, and share an intensely hot threesome fantasy at the same time… enjoy!

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This gorgeous story about impulse alleyway sex is written by Nooky and originally appeared on her website. It is read here by Sherryl Blu. 

The cocktails are good. Glancing across the table at her is better. She’s wearing a tailored shirt in pine needle green and her hair is loose around her face and whenever, like now, she’s trying to remember a detail of an anecdote her mouth puckers up a little to one side, like a thread’s tugging up her cheek.

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