It’s about eleven at night on Sunday, the last day of Eroticon. I’ve had a long weekend and I really, really REALLY should be in bed. But I am not in bed just yet because I am staring, mesmerised and open-mouthed, at a picture of my other half’s big hard dick. Such a good picture. It’s so hard I can almost see it throbbing through the screen. Shiny and tight and solid and holy fuck all that good stuff. Much like the time I watched him wank in the shower, I am unable to tear my eyes away from this beautiful, beautiful thing. I am undone.

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Yesterday some poor soul wrote in to the Guardian to ask why his girlfriend masturbates after sex. His assumption was that it was because she was ‘insatiable’, and the agony aunt explained that perhaps she just fancied a second orgasm, or wanted to pleasure herself without the potential anxiety or pressure of doing it in front of him. My answer is a lot more sweary and pretty NSFW, but here goes: maybe the sex made her really, really horny.

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Today’s guest blog is pretty fucking special. It’s written by James Mycroft, who you might remember from this lovely guest poem from a few weeks ago. Today’s post is very different. Where there was longing in his poem, here there is lustful agony. While that poem was about being apart, this one’s about being together – intensely and explicitly. James is going to tell you all about dick vibrations and orgasm control. And because his timing in pitching me this idea matched neatly with the release of the Hot Octopuss Pocket Pulse dick vibrator, I asked them to send one to him to try out. Brace yourselves because this is entirely Not Safe For Work.

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This week’s guest blog is by a fantastic fellow blogger – Isabelle Lauren. She writes with touching candour about sex and libido after having a hysterectomy. It’s a brilliant piece, and it gave me an insight into not only one of the ways in which sex can be a struggle, but also about how vital patience and communication are when dealing with sexual difficulties. Check out her brilliant blog (and in particular this recent piece on the sex/violence distinction for over-18 content, which I really enjoyed) and follow her on Twitter @RomanticIsa.

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Every year I try to write something about how Valentine’s Day is mostly a bundle of gendered expectation and obligation wrapped in a parcel of guilt. That doesn’t stop it being fun for some people (and nor should it), but hopefully it does help people who feel shit about the whole thing to feel a little less shit and a little more like it doesn’t really matter. But I’m a sex blogger, so if I don’t write anything about Valentine’s Day I’ll get letters. So, as a compromise I’ve written a guide to things you can buy as Valentine’s Day gifts for yourself. Hoard them, enjoy them, publicly propose to them if you want to, just don’t give them to anyone else: there are other gift guides for that.

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