This piece was initially an experiment to see how weird it would be if we treated other interactions the way we treat sex – with ‘must try’ positions and tricks and rules for everything from hugging to holding hands. But then as I wrote more, it went more weird. Sorry about that. 

Tired of going through the same old positions when you’re not having sex? Try these killer moves to really put the spice back into your not-making-love life…

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During that down-time between Christmas and new year, we’re meant to take stock of things which went well over the last 12 months. So although 2016 has basically been an absolute shitshow of a year, there are some lovely highlights which I’m going to wrap round me like a cosy blanket to try and keep the hellish nightmares out. Tomorrow I’ll be doing a round-up of the most popular guest blogs of 2016, but for now here’s a list of the most popular sexy blog posts from me, as measured by Google Analytics. Get stuck in, share if you like them, and feel free to tell me in the comments if there are particular things you’d like to see more of as we welcome 2017.

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I’ve never described myself as a masochist. Masochism implies a desire for pain that is pleasure in and of itself. But I don’t get wet from pain. It isn’t the smack of someone’s hand on my naked backside that gets me hot: it’s the dirtiness, the horniness. The fact that whacking me with the flat of his palm might make his dick hard. The pain itself is a by-product. To be endured, not enjoyed.

But sometimes endurance is the whole, miserable, masochistic point.

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There are plenty of advice articles on how to fuck. They’ll give instructions on what to do, where to touch, and – if you’re lucky – how to find out exactly what will make your partner scream ‘HOLY FUCK YES’ in the middle of an orgasmic spasm.

But I’m a connoisseur of a role that’s often painted as ‘passive’: I like to fuck, but more than that I like to get fucked. And there are many different, active ways to get fucked: it’s not just a case of lying there like a cat that’s got some particularly salty cream. Let me take you through a few filthy examples…

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I’ve never been a particular proponent of the idea that you have to come to enjoy sex, and if I’m truly honest I’d say the thing which matters most to me is that my partner comes. Which might seem horrifyingly subservient, until you realise that desire comes not from an old-fashioned desire to ‘satisfy’ him but because – not to put too fine a point on it – I like how it feels when he empties his balls into me.

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