All Posts – Page 293
Guest blog: sexy things in public spaces, and the price of love
When I do sex and politics, usually it’s a bit sledgehammer – an angry rant about the concept of the ‘Friend Zone’, paying for dates, that kind of thing.
This week’s guest blogger, though, is talking about love in public spaces – kissing, touching, holding hands – and brings up a whole bunch of things that I’d never considered from a sex perspective. Frankie tackles the cumulative effects of a whole bunch of different decisions – transport costs, public spaces, house prices – on the sex that people have, and the ways we all interact when we’re super-horny and just want to fucking touch each other. When I read through it, it gave me a jolt – I’d literally never thought about that way before, and now that I’ve thought about it I’ve started seeing it everywhere.
So read, enjoy and please do comment. Because whether you agree or disagree, it’s really bloody interesting.
What not to put on your sex playlist
The sound of sex is pretty important, by which I mean that if I’m fucking you I want to hear noises. You know – yelps, squeals, sighs – all that good stuff. Above all I want to hear you grunt like I’m a particularly hefty bit of furniture and you’re shifting me up an awkward staircase.
The most common soundtrack to my fucking is just that: the sound of fucking. Me sighing, you moaning, like a shit call-and-response bridge in the middle of a passionate duet.
Unngh.
Aaah.
Yeah.
Fuck.
Oh.
Nnng.
Oooh.
You know what I mean.
Sometimes, though, people choose to play music.
When I was fucking new people quite regularly, and I had a housemate whose desire to hear me fuck could be measured on a scale from ‘no thanks’ to ‘Jesus fuck woman I will BUY you a GAG’, I had a sex playlist.
Guest blog: Rev1000 is like a nimble-fingered handjob
I’ll admit it – I’m shameless. Sometimes I write things because they make me horny, sometimes I write things because I know they make other people horny, and sometimes… well… sometimes I email other sex bloggers and ask them to write things because I really want to hear them describe something hot in intense detail.
When someone first used a Doxy massager on me, I was struck by the idea that the orgasm wasn’t so much something that I’d contributed to – by grinding against things or thinking ‘happy orgasm wave thoughts’ – but something that was being torn from me. Like a hot, juddering, almost involuntary muscle spasm. Part of that, I think, comes from the fact that the person holding the Doxy doesn’t have to do much – they can just hold it tight up against my clit and watch me squirm and squawk like a cat trapped in a laundry basket. I want something that does the same thing for guys. So, having researched and settled on the Rev1000 – a thing that looks like a sci-fi sink plunger, but which promises hands (and effort-free) orgasms, I did the obvious, shameless thing: I contacted a guy who’d used one and asked him to tell me all about it.
This is Andy – AKA RuffledSheets, who was lovely enough to oblige my whims. I’m massively grateful to him for indulging me, so please do check out his blog, follow him on Twitter, and check out his thoughts (and hot NSFW pics) after the jump.
Fucking in secret, fucking in the dark
We’re grown-ups now: it’s not the done thing. You can’t fuck in a crowded room at a sleepover and expect to get away with it. We have more fun, don’t we? Those group sex parties and swingers’ clubs and all the places we can legitimately fuck in the open? Except we don’t, not always. And sometimes the delight of having secret sex in the dark is overlooked in favour of open sex with an audience.
I used to do this a lot. When I was young, I mean – not now. Now we have money for hotels, and big houses, and far far fewer friends. And – what’s that other thing? – oh yeah, restraint. There’s little need now to pack horny couples into a living room and hope their sex doesn’t jog the couple shagging on the pillows next to them.
That’s either a shame or a blessing. If you think it’s the latter, then please don’t read on.
Guest blog: pegging spit roast
“Write more about pegging!” say a whole bunch of messages in my inbox. As has always been the case with sex blogging, as soon as I write up a particular act or story that has fetish value, I’ll be inundated with people who love it and want to hear more. Pegging – because I’m sure there are some who aren’t familiar with it – essentially refers to the act of strapping on a cock and shagging a smile onto the face of the person you’re with. Instead of giving you more stories about my own incompetent attempts to peg guys, this week I’m handing over to a guest blogger – Lady Lucifer (@TheLadyLucifer on Twitter) – who is a pro-domme with a wealth of strap on expertise. She got in touch recently with a deeply hot story to share.
This is the pegging spitroast.