It’s really fucking shit, let’s start with that. Lockdown continues/escalates across the UK, to varying degrees of clusterfuck depending on where you are. One thing is certain: at some point you’ll be trapped at home, bored and miserable and longing for the Before Times. To try and ease the misery, and plug the awesome companies who support my site, here’s a quick rundown of some sexy things to keep you entertained through the oncoming horror show.

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Look look! I’ve found it! After years of sifting through terrible dating ‘systems’ and advice that amounts to ‘treat women like they’re vending machines‘, I think I’ve found the worst online dating strategy of all time. One that misses almost every conceivable mark. Are you ready? Here it is…

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I used to yo-yo break up with my ex-ex. Number eight. The guy I met at university and loved for many years (whose dark dark eyes and devious filth you can read about in my first book if you’re interested). We had our problems, but we also had our passion. Long, tortured silences in the middle of arguments that would stretch on for what felt like hours, while each of us rummaged in our equally-wordy minds for the perfect phrase that would lift the blanket of sadness. But words can’t always do the work: sometimes, most times, the physical yearning would beat our mouths to the punch, and one of us would reach out to touch the other. That touch would set us both on fire, then we’d fuck like the fucking would fix it.

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I’m going to keep the intro short and sweet this week – you’ve already met rmp792 in previous guest blogs, and heard his lovely voice reading sexy audio about such kinks as women in armour and begging. Today he’s here to give you some tips on (and a hot example of) using phone sex to connect over a distance. Your voice is one of the sexiest things about you. I’ll let him explain how you can use it to get your partner horny, even if you’re oceans apart…

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Weirdly, when I first experienced the indescribably brilliant, fuck-me-to-the-brink-of-death-and-beyond power of the Doxy, it didn’t occur to me to ask for something that would pump that power into my cunt. I was happy enough just fucking my Doxy as it was – using the throbbing rumble of the mighty original Doxy on my clit. Latterly I’ve been content to let those powerful waves travel through the flesh of my pubic mound, into the internal walls of my vagina, where they meet up with the Godemiche ambit dildo like two dudes meeting me on the Piccadilly line and then DP-fucking me in the lift at Covent Garden. What a complete twat I feel now, having experienced the power of Doxy inside my cunt, to never have thought to ask for it before.

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