What’s more satisfying – making someone laugh, or making them come? Don’t think too hard, just answer the question with your first instinct. Laugh or come? Which is more satisfying? I asked this question a while ago on Mastodon and the results were extremely close. Within a few percent of each other. I found this really surprising: I’d expected it to go a very specific way, with a dramatic win for one side. I’m not even like those people who tried to nitpick the poll by saying ‘why not both?’ (because the whole point of the question is that it’s an either/or, ya bellends, really obviously we’d all go for both if that were an option). Anyway. I expected the poll to go decisively one way, because to me there’s no contest whatsoever.

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As with literally any blog post that discusses physical beauty, this piece is going to come with an important note: what I am about to do is fetishise/objectify/admire/wax lyrical about one particular physical feature, but understand that you do not need to have this feature in order to be beautiful. You can be beautiful with whatever you’ve got, there is no one correct way to be visually stunning, and I have dated many gorgeous people who do not happen to share the characteristic I am about to so thoroughly cream my knickers over. In short: not everyone is bald, and that is OK. But my boyfriend happens to be, and there isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t cast my eyes towards the heaven I’m pretty sure does not exist, to thank a God I definitely don’t believe in for sending me a hot bald guy. I can (and assuredly WILL) write essays later about the joy of dating a hot bald guy from a tactile perspective, but for now I’m taking a rare turn into the visual. Here are my hot bald boyfriend’s three best angles, thank you so much for asking.

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You know those nights you have, in bed with someone new and exciting… those nights when you feel like you’re… hmm. Sorry, I’ll start again. So you know those nights at the start of a relationship, just after you realise how much you want this to be a relationship… those nights when you’re f… fuck. Hang on. Let me try a different tack.

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I think it was a Reddit comment, that’s where the hairband trick originally came from. A guy was replying to a question along the lines of ‘what’s the hottest thing your partner does that isn’t specifically a sex thing?’ and he started waxing lyrical about hairbands. Prior to sucking him off, he explained, she did this thing where she reached for a hairband (from her pocket, her wrist, a nearby table, wherever: those of us who tie our hair up generally have a few scattered around our homes, bags and person at all times) and looked him dead in the eye as she scraped her hair back into a ponytail. It was hot, he explained, because not only did it get him pulsing towards erection via the Pavlovian effect of telling him ‘you’re about to get your dick sucked’, it also symbolised that she was taking this really seriously. Hair tied back means business. It means ‘I want to really go to town on you.’

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In the moment I broke up with my ex – the moment itself, when I said the words, “I can’t do this any more, I’m so sorry” or whatever it was – I knew that at least one of my friends agreed it was the right decision. She’d sent me an email, the week before, which started with the sentence “I didn’t think you were ready to hear this last year, but now I feel like it’s time…” It was one of the best emails I have ever received. It was kind, caring and helpful. It did not trash my ex or instruct me to break up with him, it just reminded me of the conversations I’d had with her over the last few years, and what those conversations amounted to from her perspective. She held up a mirror to the picture I’d been painting in a way that made me see the image as clearly as she did. To this day, I am grateful to her for sending that email. Without it, my life would look very different today.

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