I talk about sex more than the average person. Hopefully that’s not a shock to any of you. Even before starting this sex blog, I was well-known in my friendship group for being the one who Talks About Sex. If someone asked me what I got up to at the weekend, and ‘what I got up to’ included some kinky roleplay with my partner and a friend, I’d probably include that in my roundup of life updates. Sex is part of my life – an important part – and if someone wants to be friends with me, they have to accept that when they ask me ‘how are you?’ the answer might come back: ‘horny!’. This isn’t something I think about very often, because I’m rarely prompted to consider it until I meet new people. At that point, when they ask what I got up to at the weekend, I have to temper my instinct to reply ‘eating crisps and wanking’ or whatever it might be. But a while ago one of my excellent Patreons asked me if I ever get embarrassed when I talk about sex, and it felt like a great opportunity to get nerdily detailed about the answer.

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I’ve spent far too long trying to come up with ideas to put a spin on this year’s Valentine’s Day post. I promise my lovely site sponsors I’ll do one every year, because Valentine’s Day is pretty big in the sex industry and it’s a good time to remind you of awesome products that you can buy to support my work. This year I’m struggling. Everything’s awful, isn’t it? Fascism, obviously. The latest tranche of Epstein emails. AI making it hard to know what’s real and what isn’t. Genocide. I get that this isn’t the most appropriate way to start a post about Valentine’s Day, but forgive me, it’s all I have. Everything is absolutely terrible, and it’s hard to write a jolly wrap or sexy little vignette designed to sell you sex toys in the shadow of all that.

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The first line of a blog post is not as important as you think. Sure, you want to draw people in – with a sexy image, a powerful statement, or perhaps a controversial statement to pique their interest like I’ve done here. But the first line is no more than a ‘hello’. You’re setting out your stall and encouraging people to approach, but you don’t need the first line to do more than just grab someone’s attention. The final line of a blog post: that’s what counts.

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Welcome, friends, to my grubby little corner of the internet. A corner so strewn with obscenity that the UK government has decided you must prove you’re a grown-up before you can access certain parts of it. The UK’s new Online Safety Act has come into force, so UK people might have noticed a bunch of websites suddenly demanding you take a selfie, share your credit card details, or jump through another hoop to prove that you’re over 18. Quite a few of my friends have been discussing this in the pub, because for understandable reasons people who aren’t embedded in the world of online pornography or internet law are suddenly curious about why the internet is now so very broken. They’re also often convinced that the government will change its mind and therefore no one really needs to worry. I’ve had this conversation so many times now that I reckon I’ve got the basis for a fairly solid layperson’s guide to age verification: what it is, how it affects you, and why we absolutely, genuinely do need to worry.

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Cast your mind back to the last time something gave you a kick of surprising new lust. You know what I mean, right? The little moments during sex when someone said something with a particular intonation and it caused you to melt from the inside. The written erotica that made just a few tweaks to the kind of phrases you think about when you masturbate, and suddenly opened the door to a whole new avenue of fantasy. Maybe you were scrolling through your favourite porn site, and you discovered a fresh way to position two subs for a beating that gave you… well… feelings. Cast your mind back to how you felt when you were last turned on by something that surprised you. Now hold that thought, and treasure it: it may be much rarer in the future.

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