This fabulously playful sex talk is written by Jaimie of Jaimie’s Erotica. It’s read by me, Girl on the Net, and I had a fabulous time trying to capture the teasing flirtatiousness in her words! 

Hey.

How are you?

Good, good. Ummm. So, did you get the picture?

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Rule number one in life is you should tell people what you like, because often they’ll give you more of it. I make my love of ‘first time‘ stories known, so when the fabulous sex blogger Missy – from FocusedAndFilthy – had a red-hot post to write about her first visit to a sex club, she knew exactly who (ME ME ME) would go wild for hearing it. Come read her exquisitely horny post about the thrill of being watched as she is spanked, humiliated, and face-fucked in front of a crowd of strangers…

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It feels weird turning up to work when fascism is on the rise. It certainly does for me, anyway. Why am I still posting porn? Who wants to wank when we’re scared about the people we love? Erik’s guest blog pitch couldn’t have come at a better time, when I’ve been wrestling with this question and feeling monstrously silly for continuing to do this horny little job even as I’m shaking with rage at the news. He’s here to talk about the power of horny feelings, and joy, and why we shouldn’t abandon sex in the time of fascism. I’m so very grateful to him for sharing this incredible post.

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I’ve written so much on this blog over the years about watching people wank, you’d think I’d have run out of things to say about it by now. You’d be wrong, though, because just as no two snowflakes – or two fucks – are ever exactly the same, so two precious opportunities to watch somebody beat one out will always be different in ways that I believe deserve fawning appreciation. Thanks to the uniqueness of every person I fuck, and the infinite ways in which I lust after their quirks and kinks, I can always find something in any given wank to get drooly and cross-eyed over. Today I want to talk about intentionality – how part of the joy of watching someone wank to porn is in understanding their specific choices about who and what will turn them on in this moment. Seeing them select a scene; skip through the parts they’re not interested in; maybe rewind the sections they want to to enjoy more than once… all this gives me horny little clues about their specific lusts in that moment.

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It’s late, and I’m tired. So tired, in fact, that I’ve just slept through the last twenty minutes of the film we were meant to be watching. You can’t blame me: it’s not often I get to snuggle up on a sofabed with my head in somebody’s lap, sinking into the duvet and enjoying the gentle, rhythmic stroke of their hand on my bottom and thighs. It is blissful. Beautiful. Like stepping into a shower that’s set to the perfect temperature, or hugging a loved one when you meet them off the train. I am safe, cosy, happy. This scene is tranquil as fuck, so you can’t blame me for falling asleep. I am also a horny bitch, though, so I hope you can also understand what happens next.

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