Tag Archives: masturbation
Summer sex: what do you do when it’s too hot to fuck?
Goths of the world, unite! Then disband again! Because actually it’s a little bit awkward meeting so many people! And we’re all a bit too warm in these clothes and we’d really rather be hiding in the basement!
I am shit at summer. I suck at being on the beach, I am appalling at barbecues, and although I can certainly appreciate a sweaty guy in a too-tight summer t-shirt, in general I find my libido plummeting with every increase in temperature.
It. Is. Shit.
Some bits of summer are passably good. Shall we go to sit in a pub beer garden? YES. Shall we have an ice-cream? YES. Shall we fuck like it’s the end of the world and our orgasm might stave off Armageddon? NO OH GOD FUCK OFF.
A guy once offered to buy my used knickers
The first time someone put their face in my crotch and grinned at the strong, heady, end-of-the-day scent of my cunt, it was a bit of a revelation. I’d always assumed that the best state for a cunt to be in was clean as a whistle – and by clean I mean utterly stripped of character, cleansed, perfumed, and presented so perfectly that you wouldn’t be able to tell one neat one from another.
Uniformity and cleanliness: as if novelty and natural scent can never be as sexy as something personal.
Obviously that’s not true, and what’s more it’s a bit upsetting that we’re so often told to eradicate any hint of scent from our personal bits, lest our lovers should get their faces close and get to do that sexy *sniff* *sigh* thing that shows just how erotic our cunt smell can be.
Today I’m going to talk about knicker-sniffing, and I should warn you that this blog’s going to go into a fair bit of detail about dirty pants, as well as contain minor plot-based spoilers for Orange Is The New Black. Which is, umm, quite the combination.
Here’s why ‘klittra’ isn’t a great word for female masturbation
What’s your commute to work like? Is it one of those normal ones where you get on a bus or train or into a fancy-pants car? Or is it a female commute? Do you eat breakfast, or female breakfast? When you take a piss, is it just, like, a regular piss or do you partake in female urination?
Today someone tweeted me a link to an article ‘what do you call female masturbation?‘ As you might be able to tell I have some Thoughts On This Topic.
In answer to the question: wanking. I call it wanking. Sometimes I will try to mix it up by talking about a hand-shandy or rubbing one out. If I’m feeling particularly coy, then I may refer to it as ‘alone time’ or taking a ‘freelancer’s nap.’ But in general, I rarely refer to what I do on my own with a sleazy fantasy and a fistful of glass dildo as ‘female masturbation.’
The article was about the new word ‘klittra’ – an invented word, being promoted by the Swedish Association for Sexual Education, because “If we don’t have a word in the language, how can we even talk about it?”
Hmm…
Reasons to masturbate
Because you’re bored. Because you’re horny. Because you caught a glimpse of one of those pop-up ads and you can’t get the image out of your head. Reasons to masturbate? Because it’s Wednesday.
Let’s stop pretending these are female turn ons
A long time ago someone published a book called ‘Porn for Women.’ Don’t get too excited, it isn’t actually porn. It was simply a collection of different images of guys doing the hoovering, washing, and other household tasks. In this ‘porn for women LOL’ hilarious trope, guys are occasionally tantalisingly half-dressed but never doing the kind of thing I’d consider genuinely horny: masturbating on the sofa, or poised halfway to sitting down on a butt plug – that kind of thing. I would be surprised if – barring a few people with very niche fetishes – anyone’s actually ever wanked to it.
I was reminded of it recently when someone (I don’t remember who and I don’t want to drop them in it even if I could) tweeted a list of ‘top female turn-ons’ which looked suspiciously like this book. The list included such gems as ‘listen attentively when she tells you about her day’ and ‘take the garbage out.’ I don’t know about you, but I’m more likely to have actual, satisfying sex with my own vacuum cleaner than to orgasm while thinking about a guy begrudgingly hauling bin bags to the front garden.
I do not sit at home frigging myself trembly over the idea of my partner picking up a hoover. I do not get wet just because someone is listening attentively while I speak, unless perhaps that person is Tyrion Lannister and what we’re discussing is just how hard he’d fuck me.