Tag Archives: sex advice

Guest blog: Touching yourself like you’re worth your own time

Describing a sexual experience can be difficult and delicate in itself, but it’s even more challenging to go beyond that and show the ways in which individual sexual experiences can have a broader ripple effect – on the way you feel about yourself, your body, your relationship to others and the world. This week’s guest blog is about hearing audio porn for the first time, and touching yourself to something that feels truly intimate. But it’s also about so much more than that. Huge thanks to the author, YHD, whose writing absolutely took my breath away.

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You never have to have sex if you don’t want to

I like to think the world has moved on since I started sex blogging nearly fifteen years ago, but there are some terrible ideas that still won’t die. One of these is the false belief that if you’re in a monogamous relationship, you owe your partner a certain amount of sex to prevent them from straying. If you’re busy/tired/overworked? Just make a sex schedule! Set aside a specific time and make yourself do it, even if you aren’t in the mood. While I’m all up for scheduling quality time or date nights, I find the idea of ‘scheduled sex’ pretty grim. Because even if you love the person who wants it, the fact remains that you never have to have sex if you don’t want to.

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If you wanna eat the cookies, you have to help make dough

OK listen up, lover/fuckbuddy/casual shag. You want us to get our sexy fuck on, and that’s delightful. I would very much enjoy milking your dick/being ruined by you/tying you to the bedframe/getting spanked in the hallway/sucking you off/finding a secluded park where we can bang up against a tree/whatever it is that both of our little hearts crave. But in order to do this, and do it well, I need you to give me some guidance. Tell me what you want and why you want it. Talk about your desires and needs and likes and dislikes. Communicate with me – not just once, at the start of our connection, but constantly. Before, during and after sex. It’s not a one-shot thing, it’s a permanent responsibility. You want to eat the cookies? You have to help make dough.

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Safer alternatives to choking

I don’t do choking any more. Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, it turns out that something I have loved for many years is far less safe than I realised. It’s too much risk. I’m not going to order you not to do choking play, but I will tell you that this breath play article by Jay Wiseman is worth a read – it gave me useful information in a way that genuinely changed my mind. As I’ve said to a couple of dudes since I stopped being comfortable with choking: “sorry to be a buzzkill, but we’re gonna need to do something different.” I’m no medical expert, so I don’t think it’s my job to explain the detail of the risks involved with choking and asphyxiation, and I wouldn’t expect you to trust me as a source on that anyway, but here’s what I am an expert in: making shit horny! Instead of scolding you for enjoying this particular kink (I enjoyed it myself for a very long time), I’m going to share some safer alternatives to choking. Activities that – for me – capture a similar vibe to being choked or having my breath restricted, but without the underlying dangers.

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Delayed ejaculation: The problematic hat trick

“I just need you to know,” one guy told me, before we started fucking, “that I very rarely come during penetrative sex. In fact, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that’s happened.” It didn’t matter who he was fucking or where his dick happened to be, he had very rarely ever come inside. You’d hope that someone as body-positive and sex-knowledgeable as Girl on the fucking Net would instinctively have some bon mot at the ready to put him at ease and reassure him that delayed ejaculation (or an inability to ejaculate full-stop) is common, and nothing to be ashamed of. And I did but… Although my rational brain was more than happy to explain that I don’t actually need champagne fountains of jizz in order to be sexually satisfied depressingly – embarrassingly – my heart fluttered with something a little different. When he told me how few people had managed to get him to come inside them, something deep in my soul chimed in with: ‘I bet I can do it, though.’

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