I wrote an entry a very long time ago about sexual bucket lists, and compiled a list of things I have always wanted to do. So nervous was I about one particular item on the list that I never published it. Revisiting that post now, I realise two things:

1. I have actually ticked one of these things off the list. Reach for the stars, people.

2. There is clearly one sexual fantasy that I don’t want to tell any of you about.

3. I’ll tell you the third thing at the end.

Anyway, with all this in mind, here is a list of things that I have always desperately wanted to do.

Wank a guy off with a sheath

My hand jobs will never be as good as your hand jobs – you know your cock much better than I do. But what you don’t necessarily know is the feeling of a well-engineered, lubed-up sheath that is tight, tight, tighter than the grip of my own hand. I want to wank you off to completion in a way you haven’t done yourself.

[Achievement unlocked! Collect fifty sex points, do not pass Go]

Gang bang

Obviously. Having thought about this a lot, I think the ideal number of guys is four, but if anyone has experience of this and would like to give me explicit and detailed advice in the comments, I would love to hear/rub one out over it.

Fuck a girl with a strap on while a guy fucks me in the ass

I want to know how it feels to fuck a girl – to be the powerful, penetrating one. However I recognise my nature well enough to know that I wouldn’t particularly enjoy it unless there was a guy there as well, and we all fancied each other.

I want to feel her squirm under me as every time he pounds my ass he forces my fake cock deeper inside her. I want to feel our tits squashing against each other as he leans his full weight on both of us. I want for her, and I, to come before him, so we’re ready to stop and ready to finish, but remain panting and twitching with post-orgasmic happiness as he speeds up and rams his cock further into my ass until, finally, he blows his load and says ‘good girls’ before heading off.

[Redacted]

No, really, I’m just not going to tell you this one.

Double penetration

This pretty much does what it says on the tin. I want to feel two guys almost touching each others’ cocks as they fuck me. Specifically, I want to sit down on a guy, ass-first, then wriggle in surprise as he grabs me and tips me back, lifting my thighs and grabbing at my legs to hold them apart.

Another guy moves forward, stroking his dick – spitting on the end to make it nice and wet. As I’m squirming on top of the other, he leans forward and pins me by my neck, pushing me back down onto the other guy, who forces his dick up harder and deeper into me. Then the second shifts forward, pushing himself deep into my cunt, grunting at the tightness as he fills the little remaining space.

As with most threesomes, I’ve found it’s not hard to find people willing to do it, it’s just hard finding people willing to do it who all fancy each other.

Be used as a group fucktoy

This is explicitly not the same thing as a gang bang, and anyone who insists it is will be required to take a long and arduous tour of the section of my head entitled ‘fantasy pedantry’. A gang bang requires the immediate and sustained presence of at least four dudes, all having sex with me at once. Being a fucktoy, on the other hand, simply means being used as a tame and compliant receptacle for the jizz of a number of different guys.

The difference in the scenarios can be illustrated thus: a dinner party with four guys and a girl, in which the end of dinner is celebrated by tearing the girl’s clothes off and all fucking her at once. That’s a gang bang. A fucktoy, on the other hand, might be employed giving blow jobs individually to one guy during the starter, being bent over the table by another guy just before mains, while the other men look on and chat casually. As dessert is served, one of them gets a bit horny and invites her to come and sit beside him on her knees, so he can pull out his cock and masturbate with swift and efficient purpose, emptying himself with hot squirts into her mouth. Our final gentleman doesn’t necessarily have to do anything. He can sit back, with a full belly and a rock-hard cock, while the others eat their Eton Mess (simple recipe, can be prepared in advance so as not to take up valuable sex time), casually fondling the fucktoy’s tits as a brief postprandial treat.

Later in the evening, as everyone gets more relaxed, they strap her over one of the arms of the sofa so that each of them, when the need takes them, can fuck her in either her ass or her cunt, alternating between filling her with hot spunk, and simply putting their dick somewhere warm for a while. Grunting, slapping, and casual usage of a horny girl who’ll eventually be sent home alone.

Have someone jizz on my feet

I have no idea why I actually want to do this. I don’t have a particular thing for feet, and I have never met a guy who has. I just like the uniqueness of it – the idea that someone might like feet so much that he wants to come all over mine. There’s also the combined joy of being able to watch a guy wank himself to completion, in a desperate, frothing way until he gets to jizz on something unusual. Finally, once he’s spent and dry I can rub my feet together and feel the viscous stickiness drying between my toes.

Why bother with a bucket list?

The final thing I realised, having revisited this List of Dreams about a year after I actually wrote it, is that the idea of having a Sexual List of Dreams is a little bit odd. Sure, we all have one or two things that we’d quite like to try out, but writing them down in list form seems to give them a different, more significant status. Despite potentially being relatively easy to carry out, being On The List affords them mythical status – the ‘things I have always wanted to do’ as opposed to simply the ‘thing I quite fancy trying tonight.’ I mean, look at the final entry on my list – foot-jizzing, for crying out loud! I could tick that one off this evening and never think of it again. So why haven’t I?

Probably because, although it’s hot, and would no doubt be hot if I were to do it, it’s mainly hot because of the ‘oh holy shit that’s unusual’ element rather than because it’s inherently desirable to me. Although these things are exciting, most evenings what I fancy most is a bog-standard, pull-your-knickers-down-and-we’ll-do-it-in-the-hallway shag. I suspect that if every evening I was interrupted by half a rugby team naked from the waist down and ready for a gangbang, the novelty would wear off in a couple of months and I’d be begging for a quiet one-on-one fuck on the sofa.

Sexual bucket lists are all very well, and I’ll no doubt be patting myself on the back when I tick the next thing off, but their value (on my list, in any case) lies in their uniqueness, their special qualities. Just as no one wants to swim with sodding dolphins every morning, most days I’m happy with a wank.

I want to talk about fantasy and issues around consent. This blog touches on both of these things. Everything in it is consensual, but if discussions around this upset you or make you uncomfortable, you might prefer not to read it.

Consent is utterly fundamental when you’re having sex. It’s so fundamental, so important, that the vast majority of people wouldn’t even need to hear that stated: you just know. As you know it’s wrong to punch a stranger, sneak meat into vegetarian lasagne, or throw a kitten into a lake.

However, despite knowing these things are wrong, we’re more than happy for them to happen in fiction. We’ll cheer when the baddie gets punched in an action film, smile when Tom gets hit by Jerry, or laugh along when David Mitchell suggests that Robert Webb should kill and eat a cat. We’re perfectly capable of distinguishing fantasy from reality.

‘Bending’ by Greta Christina

I was recently sent a copy of ‘Bending: Dirty Kinky Stories About Pain, Power, Religion, Unicorns, & More’ by Greta Christina. It’s a thoughtful, sordid, delicious shock of a book. She and I clearly have some very similar fantasies, and when I read it I was frequently torn between shouting “OH JESUS YES” and sneaking off the train for a quick wank in the toilets. They’re mostly BDSM-focused, and an excellent demonstration of just how much variety there is in even that one tiny slice of the sexual spectrum. If you like my blog, and the sort of things I write about, I’d be gobsmacked if you didn’t like at least a few of the stories in this book.

However, some of the stories deal with fantasies that involve non-consent. One or more of the fictional participants is being cajoled, bullied or forced into doing something sexual. They describe sort of activities – like a cat being served up for dinner – that we wouldn’t want to see in real life. But does that stop them being hot? Does that make them unethical? I don’t think so. And although I could waffle on about this until my feline steak goes cold, I couldn’t put it better than Greta Christina herself.

Here is an extract from the book’s introduction that she’s kindly allowed me to publish as part of her blog tour:

These are not nice stories.

These are not “erotica” — except in the sense that “erotica” has become the term of art in publishing for “dirty stories with some vaguely serious literary intent.” These are not tender stories about couples in love making love. (Except for the one that is.) These are not sweet, gentle, happy stories about unicorns fucking rainbows. (Except for the one about the unicorn fucking the rainbow.)

A lot of fucked-up shit happens in a lot of these stories. Stuff happens here that is borderline consensual. Stuff happens that is not at all consensual. Stuff happens in which people manipulate other people into doing sexual things they don’t want to do. Stuff happens in which people do sexual things they’re ashamed of. Stuff happens in these stories that, if they happened in real life, I would be appalled and enraged by.

Stuff happens here that excites me to think about when I whack off.

I apparently have a very fucked-up sexual imagination.

But there is also love in these stories. Some of them, anyway. There is the love of long-term couples; there is the love of newly-discovered lovers; there is the love of friends. There is affection — between lovers, between colleagues, between strangers encountered on the street. There is respect: for love, for desire, for scars, for the complicated places where love and desire and scars overlap.

Above all, there is respect for sex itself. I think — I hope — that this respect underlies every story in this book. Beneath the excitement and the fear, the pain and the shame, the helplessness and the hunger, the danger and the love… there is always the idea that sex matters.

Since most of these stories are kinky, and since some people reading this may not be super-familiar with kink, I want to take a moment to talk about kinky porn.

Some of these stories are about consensual sadomasochism. They’re about negotiated SM scenes between consenting adults, with safewords and limits and attention to safety. There’s conflict in the stories, and mis-steps, and bad decisions… but fundamentally, what happens within those stories is consenting. They are attempts to express, in fiction, some of the things that consensual sadomasochists do.

And some of these stories aren’t. Some of these stories are about force, and violation, and abuse of power. They are attempts to describe, not what consensual sadomasochists do, but some of the things we think about. They are attempts to describe some of the images that come into our minds when we masturbate, or have sex, or engage in consensual SM. They are attempts to describe some of the activities that some of us consensually act out with each other. They are fantasies.

And every single story in this book is consensual.

They’re consensual because they’re fiction. They’re consensual because they’re made-up. I consented to write them; you’re consenting to read them. If you don’t want to read this kind of thing, this isn’t the book for you. I encourage you to put it down, and read something else.

It’s funny. When it comes to things that aren’t sex, people seem to understand this distinction. People get that enjoying spy novels doesn’t mean you want to join the CIA; that enjoying murder mysteries doesn’t mean you want to kill people; that enjoying heist thrillers doesn’t mean you want to break into Fort Knox. People understand that it’s fun and exciting to imagine things we wouldn’t actually want to do — even things we think are immoral.

But for some reason, porn often gets held to a different standard. Depicting a fantasy of a sex act is often assumed to be an endorsement of that act. So let me spell it out: I do not endorse sexual force, abuse of power, rape, or any form of violation of sexual consent. I am vehemently opposed to them.

I am, however, unapologetic about the fact that I like to fantasize about them. If we have any freedom at all, it’s the freedom between our ears: the freedom to think about whatever we like. And that includes sex.

If this has intrigued you, do check out the book – available on Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, and eventually print and audiobook too.

And if this has enraged you, I’d genuinely love to know why. What makes sex different? I don’t want to live in a world where we can’t separate fantasy from reality. That means not just comedy, cartoons, and action films but sex as well.