Category Archives: Boys I’ve had

I asked my exes to review my sexual performance

Many years ago I used to write for a website called The Debrief: a magazine-style site run by Bauer Media that has since disappeared. Thanks to my recent sex blogging anniversary (I’ve now been doing this for ELEVEN YEARS!) I’ve been taking a few trips down memory lane and contemplating how lucky I am to have spent so long making a living from what I can only describe as ‘this horny bullshit.’ The Debrief gave me a great start in freelance writing, and my editor allowed me the freedom to do some pretty awesome stuff: writing sex position guides which were entirely gender neutral (a practice that was rare in 2014, and which often got sub-edited back into ‘he’ and ‘she’ if I submitted similar pieces to other magazines); smashing stigma around things like period sex and discharge; writing articles about how to wank in front of someone without feeling like a complete tit; even getting to interview fucking STOYA. You know Stoya? Off of porn? I met her in real life! We chatted for ages about the problems with tube sites and I learned so much from her. I had a blast, that’s the point. And I got paid £100 per article for doing it. All the stuff I wrote for The Debrief disappeared along with the website, but it still exists in my email. And as I’m feeling nostalgic, I thought I’d share one of my faves. This is a piece I wrote in 2014, when I emailed a bunch of my ex partners and asked them to review my performance in bed. You’ve met some of these people on the pages of this blog, and I’ll catch you up on who’s who at the end. Here’s what they thought of my shagging skillz when I popped into their inboxes ten years ago to ask their opinion…

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My hopeful heart/The Plot

Note: this post will seem screamingly self-indulgent unless you care about the minutiae of my life. It’s a piece about my hopeful heart, and some behind-the-scenes updates from the last couple of months. If you like that sort of thing, you’ll like this. If you don’t, please go read the porn instead for now, and pop back on Sunday for something more fun than navelgazing.

A long time ago, one of my Patreons asked me: do you ever get embarrassed? It’s a question I’ve been thinking on for at least two years, and as I ponder it I’ve written three or four different answers that are all stuck in draft. The short answer is yes, I sometimes get embarrassed. For instance if I write something clumsy that doesn’t do justice to the person who inspired it, or if I say something that, on reflection, I realise is ignorant or hurtful. But the main things I write on the blog – sex stories, love stories, earnest posts about friendship and connection – are not a source of embarrassment no matter how intimate they are, or how silly they might make me seem to an audience of strangers. I don’t think I’m ever truly embarrassed about telling you the things that bring me joy. I have a hopeful heart, and I want to fill it with love and sex and pleasure and fucking fun. Then when it’s full of all these things I like to let that joy spill out in public. I had an amazing shag; I fell in love with a boy; I came up with a cool new story to wank to… whatever.

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I think I’m gonna be sad

The sad thing happens on Monday morning. But there were lots of sad things that laid the path to it, so perhaps it’s not surprising that initially I’m just a bit numb. All day I’m braced for the waves of despair to crash. I sit at my desk. I work. I write. Edit some audio porn, upload a bit to Patreon, and wait and wait and wait for the misery to hit.

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I wanted to talk to you about the aurora

OK, I know this is silly. But last night I really wanted to talk to you about the aurora. I wanted to tell you to go outside and look, and ask if you could see it from wherever you were at the time. I wanted to forward the picture that my brother had sent from his garden: pink waves in the sky. Pure beauty. The magic of space. I wanted to talk to you about the aurora.

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“Enough about me, how about you?”

This guy has a really neat dating trick that makes me feel comfortable and relaxed in his company. It’s one which means we get to progress towards knowing each other way faster than I have with most other men in the years since I broke up with my ex. He does it consistently and brilliantly, and each time he does it I’m taken by pleasant surprise. Wanna know what the trick is? It’s easy. Absurdly, ridiculously easy, but quite rare. He asks me questions. That’s it. He asks me about my life, and when I say something interesting he asks a follow-up. If he realises he’s been speaking for too long, and the conversation is becoming a monologue, he says “enough about me. How about you?” That’s it. That’s the trick.

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