Tag Archives: relationships

A thousand words about a picture

We’re both quite sweaty, that’s the first thing. This picture is all the hotter because of that. There’s a light sheen on the side of his face, but I – as ever – am the sweatiest. Hair in wet curls plastered to my neck and forehead, the white shirt I’m wearing absolutely drenched to near transparency. The photo was taken at a fun, bouncy gig. We’d been dancing.

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What’s so good about being called a ‘good girl’?

The first time he says it, he makes a face as he utters the words. Not in disgust, but definitely discomfort, as if he’s not used to saying them. The phrase might sound weird to his ears, but it’s wonderful to mine: good girl.

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Guest blog: Facesitting and size fantasy

I found today’s guest blog so moving and intense that it’s quite hard to write an introduction. When Aborigen (@[email protected] on Masto) got in touch to offer a post about macrophilia/size fantasy, and plug his podcast zHeitgeist, I was excited to read about a kink I don’t share and hoping I could gain an insight into the way that facesitting is of particular appeal to macrophiles who want to feel small, vulnerable, crushed. I wasn’t quite expecting him to make such a beautiful case for acceptance and understanding of all consensual kinks. On top of this, he gives a truly exquisite example of why being vulnerable with your lovers, and accepting their vulnerabilities too, can be powerfully rewarding. I want to go back in time and share this with my past self, and any number of past lovers too. It’s longer than guest blogs usually are, so grab a cuppa before you dive in. It’s worth it.

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The next time I see my boyfriend

The next time I see my boyfriend, I’m going to make sure I brush my lips really slowly against the soft skin in the curve between his neck and his shoulder. I’m going to run my hands up the back of his t-shirt and relish the warmth of his body through the cotton. I’m going to tell him ‘I missed you’ and mean it more than I have since early August, when I very rudely disappeared for two whole weeks in the early days of our relationship. On the morning I returned from that trip, we went to the pub for a couple of hours before I took him home to my place, and when I stood up to get my round in, I ran my fingertips down the back of his head – recently-but-not too freshly-shaved, feather soft against my skin. He later whispered to me that the touch had made his cock jump. So fuck it, yeah: the next time I see my boyfriend, I’ll want to do that again too.

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Guest blog: It’s not sex addiction, it’s my libido

I follow a number of sex educators, researchers and journalists who are sceptical about the idea of ‘sex addiction’ – where an activity is so wrapped in societal shame, it’s hard to separate out what might be a ‘problem’ for an individual with what constitutes simply a ‘problem’ for a conservative society. As a result, I’ve always been hugely wary of anyone trying to tell me (or people I know) that we might be sex ‘addicts’ as opposed to just ‘fans of fucking.’ But as yet I’ve never had anyone write about sex addiction for the guest blog, so I was delighted when Big Ed Magusson pitched me a post about exactly this. He’s here to share his own journey exploring addiction and libido. If you would like to read more, his collection of short stories – Addictive Desires – is available on Amazon and Gumroad. And do check out his website as well if you’d like to read more of his work.

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