Sexual compatibility isn’t always about liking the same things. It’s nice to discover that your whims and lusts match up sometimes, when you both fancy exactly the same kind of shag. But to me, being sexually compatible is less about always wanting the same thing and more about being intrigued by the other person’s kinks and quirks.
On Friday I went to Venus Berlin. On Sunday I bought two large McDonalds milkshakes, left them in the kitchen until they’d thoroughly melted, then clambered into the bath and poured them all over my tits. These two things are not unconnected.
I’ve never been a big fan of massage oil – it gets all sticky on my hands. While it’s delightful to stroke and prod and knead someone else’s body (particularly the arse – God how I love rubbing oiled-up hands on someone’s arse) I’ve always been a bit put off by the fact that when the massage stops and the slippery fucking begins, there’s nowhere to wipe my hands.
Until now, because I have one of these amazing tactile fluidproof sheets, and holy shit do I love it. The following post isn’t a review, it’s just an account of some wet and delicious sex I had. It’s also written pretty much in one take, because I got horny while I was writing it and it was a choice of either editing it for ages or just putting it live then having a wank and a nap. Sorry.
Some of my best friends are lovers. And some of my favourite lovers have been truly exceptional friends. I adore stories about those moments where friendship crosses over into sex, or vice versa, and this week’s guest blog explores one of those moments with such playful, impulsive sexiness that you’ll probably wish you’d met her and her best friend too.
So: whether you’ve slept with your best friend, or never even dreamed of it, I hope her story gives you something beautiful to think about over the weekend.
Sometimes you don’t share someone else’s kink, and you just want to leave it at that. Other times, you don’t share someone else’s kink but you really love exploring it with them because you want to find out exactly why it gets them so hot under the collar. This week’s guest blog, by a filthy girl who wishes to remain anonymous, is about the latter thing, and it’s an example of sex writing so powerful that as soon as I read it I had to have a vigorous shag to work through my horniness. What I’m saying is that this guest blog – about sploshing – is hotter than the actual sun.