“I gave in around six in the morning, and came all over my stomach thinking about fucking you bent over the bed and digging my fingernails into your tits.”

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Today is an odd day – I am sitting on my sofa nursing a giant hangover, still reeling from the election last night. So it’s fitting that instead of trying to come out with any words of my own, I’ll give my very tired brain a rest and hand over instead to a guest blogger. Clementine is here to tell you about a recent sexual encounter with a guy… and how that encounter sparked fantasies about someone completely different. No prizes for guessing which of the very specific lines in her piece press my ‘submissive lust’ buttons…

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Apparently I am an ‘influencer.’ When I write about sex toys, some of you buy them. When I recommend books or articles, you click the links and read and share. You support me on Patreon to help me make audio porn. You incredible, beautiful, wonderful people: you sometimes take my advice. So if influence is currency, I’d like to spend it today. All of it. On one thing: persuading you to vote.

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I miss you. Every morning when I wake up and see you there, I miss you. I miss you while we’re exchanging emails about the minutiae of our lives. I miss you when we sit together on the sofa, our eyes locked on the telly, to keep each other out.

I miss you when we fight.

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When bad things happen, we text the people we love. We send Facebook messages, DMs and emails. We shout ‘are you OK?’ and we stand biting our nails in the kitchen as we call those who matter to us most.

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