Tag Archives: hand jobs
The way he touched another guy’s dick
“It’s hot when two girls get off, but it doesn’t work the other way round.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know. Like women watching a guy play with another guy’s dick. It doesn’t have the same effect.”
I’ve had this conversation too many times. Far too many times. There’s a longer blog to post another day about the fact that straight-guy sexuality is so tightly woven into our culture that often dudes struggle to get their heads round the fact that, you know, they can be objects of lust just as easily as they’re subjects. But I’ll bore you about that another day.
For now, in response to the person who said this to me, allow me to describe an interaction so hot it makes my toes clench, even just remembering it.
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Book launch: chapter 6, How A Bad Girl Fell In Love – text and audio
My latest book is out today! Here are the links to buy it, and if you want to read a sample, then below is the whole of chapter 6, in text and at the bottom in audio (which I think technically counts as audio porn).
Extract below. I’m chuffed that this was the chapter picked for extract because I think it gives a pretty decent overview of the book – a bit of behind-the-scenes on blogging, a couple of fucking lovely blokes, a rant about openness and a dirty lubed-up hand job. Hope you like it.
Something that’s better than bath sex
I don’t really like fucking in the bath, although one day I’ll tell you about the most successful bath sex I ever had – long, teasing and achingly slow in a hard way: each stroke like a punishment, which came with a splash of water. The delicious, almost-but-not-quite drowning sensation as my mouth and nose slipped below the water line.
Today, though, I’m exhausted. All I want to do is lie in the bath with the radio on, sink into bubbles and warmth, and have him sit beside me with his fingers in my cunt.
This is what we did the other day.
This is now what I want to do every day.
Until I die or, more realistically, get bored of it – I’m far too jaded now to think anything’s forever.
One girl’s adventures in Cock Hero
Long-time readers will remember that a few months ago I got very excited by the concept of a Guitar Hero style game, but for wanking. It’s called Cock Hero, and the gentleman who discovered the idea and sent it to me very kindly gave me an in-depth explanation of what Cock Hero is, and why it is so fucking horny.
Essentially you masturbate in time to a beat, along to a montage of porn put together specifically to challenge you. It begins fairly softcore, and the beat counter at the bottom of the screen directs you in slow, occasional strokes. Then as the game progresses, the porn gets more intense and the beat counter speeds up, whipping you into a rhythmic frenzy until it’s all you can do to hold back on the inevitable jizzsplosion.
Naturally I was intrigued, and I have spent the next few months getting involved in Cock Hero on a casual gaming basis, because I like playing with dicks and I am lucky enough to know a guy who’ll let me have a go on his in the name of Friday-night fun. I thought I’d give you a run-down of my own tips and hacks, in case you fancy playing yourself. It is probably the niche-est article I have ever written, and it may only be of interest to me, so I have tried to spice it up with some detailed descriptions of wanking people off.
Ready? Let’s go.
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SAS: Who Dares Wins kicks off a lot of filthy sex fantasies
“Tell me a sexy story,” I asked him, and he thought for a full three seconds before saying:
“OK. Picture the scene: you’re wandering past a bar, and inside there’s a raucous group of guys out on the town for a stag do…”
Although the reality of the British Stag Do is often cunt-witheringly unsexy, there’s potential there that he recognises as something I may well enjoy. It’s not just the fact that there’s a large number of men, although naturally I am a fan of any situation in which I am the sole sexual outlet for a gang of eager guys. There’s something about the stag do specifically that flicks that switch.
It’s often taken as a given that straight blokes will be keen on cheerleading squads, women’s hockey teams, and all the rest of it. They want to see the cotton-panty-clad pillow fights and soapy shower scenes that definitely happen when women get together (and they do, I promise. Like, that is literally all me and my mates ever do when we get together. Pyjama-clad romping, excessive giggling and showing each other our fannies). Yet when I have, on occasion, mentioned my desire to be wined and dined and slapped and tickled by an entire university rugby team, men I am with have expressed some degree of surprise.
I am thinking about this a lot recently, because I have got very solidly into a brand new trashy reality-TV show called ‘SAS: Who Dares Wins’ and apparently my overtly sexual running commentary on the programme is somewhere between ‘dogged’ and ‘aggressive.’ Long story short: I want to fuck all the men who are in it, over and over, until their dicks are raw and they can barely muster a single drop of wrung-out spunk.