This fabulous piece about anticipation, and flirting when you can’t fuck, is written by Quinn Rhodes of OnQueerStreet. It is read aloud here by Matt Johnson. Content note for dick-focussed smut. Quinn would also like to acknowledge the irony of writing a piece yearning for this kind of sex when COVID means that many people are limited to no-contact lusting.

Right now, I feel disconnected from my body. It’s partly lockdown and partly my depression, but I find it hard to remember that sex feels good until I’m literally pushing a vibrator against my junk. In theory I know that I like being touched and I like sucking dick, but in reality my arousal feels clinical and detached. It feels like my body has forgotten how to be so horny that I can’t think about anything but sex, and I miss it. I miss the overwhelming desire and anticipation I used to feel before a fuck.

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These fantasies about you come from the talented, dirty mind of Ferns, and originally appeared on her website Domme Chronicles.

Thinking…
About masturbating
Thinking about you, and thinking about masturbating
Thinking about you, spread-eagle, restrained and blindfolded
Face up, on a bed

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I am a total sucker for gorgeous hands. Not just the look of them or the feel of them grabbing me, I am mesmerised by watching people do things with their hands – precise, skilful things. Unngh. Today’s guest blog is by Fajolan, who has a breathtakingly gorgeous story about a date who used his hands to exceptional effect long before they ever got into bed…

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I was never really one for sexting, in the times Before Him. In recent years, the closest I’ve come to a horny text is sending a sext from the bedroom if I’m post-bath soft and wanting dick, or messaging to let him know that I’ve finished wanking and he’s welcome to come on up. One of the things that scares me about new encounters is – absurdly, bizarrely – the worry that they might need me to stretch my thumbs and engage in written conversation in between dates. Yeah, I know: I’m a sex blogger. I should be good at dating communication. But perhaps it’s the fact that I’m meant to be good at it that leads to so much dread. Where expectations run high, failure is almost guaranteed.

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This stunning guest blog, by @nookysemper, came out of an incredible thread she wrote a while ago which appealed strongly to my inner pervert, who loves the sexy noises people make when they’re horny. When she approached me to offer a guest blog, I asked if she could elaborate on that delightful ode to sexy noises, and voilà! Here’s her gorgeous post…

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