Tag Archives: true
Yet another fucking blow job story
Sorry to be a pain, gang. I am writing yet another fucking blow job story. Do you like blow jobs? God, I hope so. I think I’m becoming something of a one-trick pony. If that pony’s trick is sucking cock. Join me my friends, my loves, my ever-patient pals, as I regale you with a tale of yet another fucking blow job.
Higher and higher: a fuck that was way too intense
You know those meditation apps which show a circle increasing and decreasing in size, which encourage you to breathe in and out in time with the animation? Sometimes I like to fuck like that.
CN: drug use, minor references to panic attacks. But broadly this is a super-hot one, I promise.
Guest blog: My first time in a strip club
Regular readers will know that I’m a sucker for first times: I literally have a blog tag dedicated to all the fabulous stories of people discovering a new sexual thing. It’s thrilling. And this week’s guest blogger – Archibald Q Kaboom in comments – after my recent piece on taking my toyboy to a strip club, was inspired to share a first of his own: his first time in a strip club. He writes with such beautiful clarity and awestruck lust about it that I hope it might prompt some of you to take the plunge on a ‘first’ you’ve been hankering after.
Saying ‘no’ is not always easy
‘No’ is a complete sentence, sure. But if you get partway to shagging someone, saying ‘no’ can be genuinely difficult, especially if you want to give them an explanation for why you’ve changed your mind. I’m going to tell you about one of the most awkward ‘no’s I’ve ever said. It’s not the most awkward ‘no’, just one of them. It starts on the south bank of the Thames, around autumn 2020.
It’s hard for me to judge the tone of this piece, and editing it proved tricky. But just so you know up front: this story has a happy ending.
The date on which we did not have sex
We’re sitting on the sofa and my feet are on his lap. It’s late and I’m tired and happy – we’ve spent the evening laughing and drinking pints. I’m trying to do my best to be up front with men about what I want, so I told him I didn’t want sex tonight, just company. My feet are on his lap, and he’s stroking them. Firmly, casually, intimately. It’s comforting.