Girl on the Net

If I’m shagging you and I’m going on top, there are broadly four things you can do with your dick if you’d like to – for want of a better word – ‘join in.’ Obviously the peripheral things are infinite and always up for grabs: touching my tits, making sexy moaning noises, calling me a good girl, kissing me, yelling my name at the ceiling like you’re trying to put cracks in the plaster, etc. But when it comes to the actual fuck, there are four things you can do. Three of them are brilliant, one of them sucks, and I don’t know how to tell men I’m fucking not to try and do it.

First, picture the scene: I am riding your cock. I might be doing it gently and slowly, straddling your thighs with my legs while I grind against you in a slow, teasing way. I might be going much harder – squatting over you with my feet planted flat on the floor, my hands gripping your legs for balance, and swinging down onto your dick with aggressively brutal strokes. It depends on my mood and, let’s be honest, on your dick – some are easier to ride like this than others. But for the purpose of this blog post, please just assume that I’m on top and I’m driving. I’m in control. Let’s go over the four possibilities for you, the person whose cock I am sitting upon.

1. Stay still

The first thing you could do is stay still. Don’t try to fuck back, or change the angle from which I’m attacking your dick. Just touch my tits, look up at me with grateful awe, grab my bum or something, and moan about how fucking brilliant and hot and cool I am until you’re ready to either jizz in me, change position, or propose that we run away to New Zealand together.

Lovely stuff. I cannot stress enough how utterly and completely acceptable – nay, desirable – an option this is for me, most of the time. The options further down this list are harder, or require more energy. And the contract into which I have entered when I sucked you hard and hopped aboard is (in my opinion) one which puts the onus of the work onto me. If you wanna lie back and relax? Be my guest! As long as you remember that when I’m the less active participant I make up for it with great noises and cunt squeezes at opportune moments, and act accordingly: squeeze my tits and grunt occasionally, let me know you’re into it. Fill up my power bar with noises, and you don’t need to fuck back if you’re knackered. OK? Got it? Sweet.

2. Match my pace

The second option is more common in my experience: you can join in and try to match my pace. Fucking upwards into my cunt as I slide down your dick, each of our crotches meeting in the middle with a satisfying wet smack. Again, a top quality option. I enjoy the meditative, almost mesmerising pleasure of getting into a rhythm with someone: matching them stroke-for-stroke so you can’t work out if you’re using their body to get you off, or yours, or a bit of both.

I recently met a man (who you’ll hear much more about soon) who does this devastatingly brilliant thing when I’m riding him slowly where he keeps still for most of each stroke until I reach what feels like the bottom, then he tips his hips and fucks up slightly to meet me, delivering an extra bit of his cock with a little more pressure. Others have done this before, but none so well as him. He’s not going wild with energy or intensity, just gently nudging himself harder against my cervix when I thought I’d already got to the end of that stroke and enveloped the whole thing. It’s like remembering you had a fiver in the back of a drawer, then when you go to retrieve it you discover it’s actually a tenner… plus half a bag of weed and a winning scratchcard. It makes me come so hard, good God.

The key here though is to match. If you’re going to fuck back while I’m on top, you need to let me dictate the pace. I’m the one driving, so I’m in control. I lead, you follow. We’ll come on to this in a second.

3. Take over completely

The third option is worth a brief detour, only so I can show you I’m aware of and love it: dominant fucking while I’m on top. This is rare, but when it works it works so well. My ex used to occasionally ‘take over’ when I was on top. I suspect because my fragile human body could never hope to match the speed with which he wanked, and (because bouncing on top is a far more energetically-draining movement than a thrust) I’d rarely ever be able to achieve the thrusting speed we might achieve together with doggy or missionary. So if he wanted to come (and I couldn’t go fast enough, for long enough, to get him there) he’d yank me towards him until I was crushed against his chest, legs still spread and straddling his dick, then as he held me in a bondage-tight bear hug he’d fuck upwards into my cunt like he was trying to punch his way through to the ceiling. This wasn’t him trying to dictate the pace, but explicitly taking over: he’d hold me completely still so I could barely move, basically grabbing the wheel and doing all the driving himself. Glorious.

Those are the three acceptable options when I’m on top. As far as I know, there are no other acceptable options, but I am simultaneously deeply aware of my own ignorance and tantalisingly excited by the possibility that there’s a new type of fuck I’ve not yet tried, so if you have any suggestions to expand this list, you’re very welcome in the comment section below.

What not to do if I’m on top

4. Keep randomly trying to change the pace

The fourth option is the one with which I struggle, the one where you join in but do not take over, instead trying to change my pace: speeding up or slowing down at seemingly random intervals, none of which seem to match the rhythm I’m trying to build. I understand that if you’re getting closer to coming, you might need me to speed up. That’s just part of the build-up to climax, and it’s not what I’m talking about here (although if this is the case, I would always appreciate being told this verbally rather than expected to intuit it – apart from anything else, it’s really hot to be told you’re about to come and I’ll put way more effort in if I know you’re close). What I’m talking about here is speeding up and slowing down seemingly at random and expecting me to read your mind and respond to it instantly.

This blog post (which has sat in drafts for a long time) was prompted by two shags I had relatively close together. Guy A had first-time sex with me on top that was so devastatingly competent it came as a huge revelation: he kept his hands on my hips or tits the whole time I was riding, looked into my eyes and told me ‘good, that’s good, oh fuck yeah’ as I did it, and crucially he fucked back at exactly the same pace as me. He paid physical attention to my movements, matched them really neatly, and adjusted his positioning and speed to reflect the pace I was setting. Honestly, it was such a rush: like the first time a dude ever listened to my ideas in a meeting.

Guy B, who I shagged a week or so later, did not do these things. He did the opposite. Most notably, when it came to pace, he just sort of randomly sped up and slowed down, almost like he was doing it on purpose to throw me off. As soon as I’d adjusted my speed to match his, he slowed down. Then I’d go slower and he’d speed up, and on and on until I had to call time on the whole escapade. When he was on top, he didn’t do this weird pacing thing – it only ever happened when I was meant to be in the driving seat. Why?!

Usually when it happens I’ll gamely try to match whatever pace the guy involved is setting. What can I say? I’m a people-pleaser. I will continue to try and match someone’s sporadic pace even when what I really want to do is bop them on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper and say “No! Bad! Confusing! Please just stay still!” But as I say, I’m a people-pleaser, and people aren’t usually very pleased when one does that. So I try to match whatever his new pace is, even if it isn’t one that I can sustain for long. If I start to flag, I might slow down a little, but broadly I just switch my brain to ‘passive’ mode and let him lead the naked dance. But because we’ve now established a ‘he sets the pace’ rule, I’m thrown off in my own efforts by whatever it is he decides he might do – speeding up and slowing down seemingly at random. It would be really helpful to know if there’s a specific reason for doing this. If he could tell me ‘I need you to move faster’ or ‘I actually can’t get off without a completely sporadic and off-kilter pace’ or whatever. But either way, he shouldn’t be driving in the first place! I’m on top, that’s my job! You can’t make me do the labour but give me no authority over how I complete the task, it isn’t fair! I don’t try to set the pace when he’s on top – broadly I follow the rules above, and either match his rhythm or stay the fuck still and focus on my moaning and my bum-grabs.

As a general rule, when I’m on top, I don’t want someone messing with my pace unless they’re doing it for specific and overt dominant reasons. If you want to join in and fuck back I won’t stop you, but please try to match pace or we’ll end up very frustrated. If you can’t keep pace because you’re tired, or you just want to enjoy being ridden like a very good pony without having to think about any of this technique bullshit, just stay still! It’s fine! Enjoy! Make a few sexy noises and squeeze my tits and tell me how great I am. But if I’m busy doing the work, please stop throwing spanners into it.

This blog post seems a bit cisnormative – I mostly fuck men, and all the men I’ve fucked (so far) have been cisgender. Plus, it’s about sex technique, and I don’t like framing those in the third person. I can’t tell you there’s One Good Way to fuck, only explain how I want people to fuck me and hope that some of it might be useful to some of you. As a result, this is a post about sex I have had with cis men, which is why it seems so cisnormative. Not everyone with a dick is a guy though, obviously, and maybe for some of you this mismatched pace will be genuinely sexually fun. As with anything I frame loosely as ‘advice’, remember that I’m not an expert, just a random horny dickhead. Take what’s useful, leave what isn’t, and feel free to add your own thoughts in the comments. These blogs are so much better when I overexplain them, aren’t they? In my defence I am extremely sleep-deprived today and this is the only draft I had vaguely ready for publication. Sorry about that.