Telling people I’m a sex blogger usually leads to one or two misconceptions: that I am constantly shagging, or that I am shagging in such wildly creative ways that no normal human could keep up with the carnival of kink. But that’s not really what I’m about. I’m not obsessed with the quantity of sex I’m having, nor the depths of any particular depravity. In fact, I reckon I could have relatively vanilla sex once a month and still be eager and intense enough about it – and the fantasies that lead up to or come out of it – to write a passable sex blog. I’m not a nymphomaniac or the kinkiest woman alive: I’m just a plain old sex nerd.

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OK listen up, lover/fuckbuddy/casual shag. You want us to get our sexy fuck on, and that’s delightful. I would very much enjoy milking your dick/being ruined by you/tying you to the bedframe/getting spanked in the hallway/sucking you off/finding a secluded park where we can bang up against a tree/whatever it is that both of our little hearts crave. But in order to do this, and do it well, I need you to give me some guidance. Tell me what you want and why you want it. Talk about your desires and needs and likes and dislikes. Communicate with me – not just once, at the start of our connection, but constantly. Before, during and after sex. It’s not a one-shot thing, it’s a permanent responsibility. You want to eat the cookies? You have to help make dough.

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Do you have a ‘good’ sense of humour? I reckon most of us want to answer ‘yes’ to that question. Myself very much included. If I’m going to shag someone, not only do I want them to make me laugh but – crucially – I want them to laugh at my jokes too. And although ‘good sense of humour’ is a useful shorthand, because humour is so personal, you’re better off hunting for someone who has a compatible sense of humour, rather than what they describe as a ‘good’ one – I mentioned this in an older blog post about writing the best online dating profile. Most people love to laugh, but not all of us find the same things funny. Someone you think is hilarious might be tedious and irritating to me, and vice versa. I’ve been thinking on this a lot recently, about the ways in which humour can not only entertain us and sometimes laugh us into bed, but also indicate compatibility and green flags in potential partners.

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“I wish I could take it away,” he says. My friend who doesn’t know what to do with my sad feelings. He tells me, with sincerity: “I wish I could take some of this away for you.”

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I’m riding his cock. It’s the end of a very long night, and he’s built up plenty of spunk. Not only do I really want that spunk, I also really want to come myself. So just before I hop onto his dick, he hands me one of the toys that I wish every guy I banged had in his bedside drawer: a Doxy. Grinding my clit against it while his rock-solid thickness stretches out my cunt is a proper treat, and combined with the porn that I chose, which is playing in the corner of the bedroom, I’m sure I’ll come in no time.

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