I don’t always know what I’ll find sexy – it’s all about having the right mix of kinks and quirks and attitude. While there are some people who I can immediately identify as ‘my type‘, it’s often hard to pin down in advance what I’ll find sexy.

So when people imply there is a universal yardstick against which we measure ‘hotness’, I’m forced to question whether they even understand what makes something sexy.

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What do you do after sex? Chat, maybe? Fall asleep? Sometimes a fuck is so energetic that when you’re catching your breath afterwards you barely have the energy left to high-five. Perhaps your post-sex ritual involves a large bacon sandwich and a coffee with two sugars.

Whatever floats your boat: despite having been super-judgy about it in the past when I was young and wrong, the post-sex ritual is as individual as the shag itself. Some couples need peace and quiet, others need coffee, but for me there’s one thing I always do once the spunk has settled: a kind of sexual post-match analysis.

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Where are all the male sex blogs? Are there any good male sex bloggers? Why yes, there are. Here is a list of some excellent male sex bloggers.

Much like any sex blog, male sex blogs often specialise in different things, so while you’ll get one that is a treasure-trove of sex toy reviews, you’ll get another that focuses on erotic writing. Still others that are a combination of the two, or something more like my own, which focuses on true stories with occasional political rants. Many are blogs I read often and love, others are ones I am including to make sure I have a full list. If you’re a guy and you’re not included, get in touch and if your blog is active I’m more than happy to add you.

Please click on the links, go and read some of their work, and follow them on the relevant social media channels. Then please continue reading beyond the list, where I intend to utterly blow your mind, and potentially piss you off.

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I don’t really like fucking in the bath, although one day I’ll tell you about the most successful bath sex I ever had – long, teasing and achingly slow in a hard way: each stroke like a punishment, which came with a splash of water. The delicious, almost-but-not-quite drowning sensation as my mouth and nose slipped below the water line.

Today, though, I’m exhausted. All I want to do is lie in the bath with the radio on, sink into bubbles and warmth, and have him sit beside me with his fingers in my cunt.

This is what we did the other day.

This is now what I want to do every day.

Until I die or, more realistically, get bored of it – I’m far too jaded now to think anything’s forever.

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