Are you sitting at your computer with one hand down your pants, listening to your smoke alarm go off and wondering if you can get another quick wank in before the house burns down around you? Yeah, you’re probably wanking too much. If you’re reading one of the many articles that have been published recently with a title along the lines of ‘could you be masturbating too much?’ and picking over your masturbation habits in detail to try and ascertain whether you might have a problem, then congratulations: you probably don’t.

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One of the strange things about my current relationship – as opposed to any other I’ve been in – is that I’ve forgotten how to get rejected. I know, right? Poor me. Please crack out the smallest violin you own and play a concerto in ‘Woe is GOTN.’ Rejection – and specifically sexual rejection – is something I used to have a lot of practise in. I knew how to take a ‘no’, and greet it with a shrug and a cuddle. I knew how to take ‘seriously? Now? AGAIN?’ and absorb it into my thick, thick skin, so it couldn’t pierce through to the soft bit inside me that – whisper it – needed sex to feel loved.

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Those who’ve been reading for a while might know I’m a fan of all things sex tech. From sex robots to customisable toys to sex tech hackathons, although I’m no tech expert I will happily lay claim to the title ‘enthusiastic amateur.’ And one of the things I have longed for, for ages, is a Black-Mirror-style exploration of the ways in which tech is seeping into our sex lives. Recently someone sent me a screener link for an awesome film that does exactly that, and it’s fucking exceptional. Let me tell you a little bit about Cam.

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“This is perhaps the closest I’ve got to one of my own ideas: that of a sex duvet made from soft and strokeable fabric that vocally rumbles as it is touched and that curls around me as I sink into it. My sex robot will be changeable at a whim: perhaps one day a bed made of breasts; another day, a series of vibrating and moving penises that talk dirty to me. Maybe sometimes both. Because that’s the joy of adaptable, personalisable sex robots that aren’t human, that aren’t gendered – they can just be what feels good at a particular time.” – Kate Devlin, Turned On: Science, Sex and Robots

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Sometimes my sexy blogs end with an orgasm. Other times they don’t. Sometimes they are neatly rounded off with a Scrubs-voiceover-style conclusion, wrapping up the whole experience with a neat and quotable line about love or empathy or deep-throating or what have you. But other times I leave them hanging, like on a recent post about getting fucked by a machine which ended just as I started speculating on whether my partner’s dick could fit inside me while I rode it. Someone in the comments said they’d like to know what happened next, and seeing as this is a question I get asked a lot about the sexy blog posts, I thought I’d have a crack at answering it.

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