Ever been to a BDSM party? This week’s guest blogger – Jess – has. And she’s going to tell you about a pretty hot sex/BDSM party, which involved rope, the cane, and a shuddering exhibitionist orgasm.

This post is based on a true story, but names have been changed for anonymity. If you think you recognise anyone in this story (or any guest blogs) please keep it to yourself.

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Usually when someone emails me and says ‘you absolutely HAVE’ to see this it falls into one of two categories:

1. It’s something I’ve already seen
2. It’s their cock

Occasionally, though, I get a message containing something so sexually unusual and perfectly tailored for me that I have to go for a bit of a lie-down. For about two to three clit-rubbing minutes. Today’s blog is about one of those things, and if – like me – you’re a fan of unusual nerdery and frantic cock-flogging masturbation, then you might want to start taking notes.

Today we’re going to talk about Cock Hero.

Cock Hero is like guitar hero, in that it’s a rythmn game you play, while focusing heavily on beats scrolling across the screen. It’s unlike guitar hero in that you probably don’t want to play it at parties. Here’s the deal, at a very basic level: people create compilations of porn scenes and splice them together with some music – usually cheesy beat-heavy dance. You grab your cock, turn on the video, and beat it one stroke every time the scroll bar tells you to.

Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t tell this any hotter than my friend does…

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“I’m hard because you’re crying.”

Said with sheepish, downturned eyes. He was expecting me to be horrified. Expecting me to tell him he was filthy and disgusting, and that my misery wasn’t cheap porn scene for him to get a boner over. What he – and if I’m honest, I – wasn’t expecting was for a hot pulse of arousal to flood through my stomach and crotch, soaking my knickers and wishing I could muster more tears.

What he didn’t know at the time was that I found his tears equally hot. He’d once told me a story of something he’d done after we broke up, and it filled my head with a vision of him gripping his dick with fury and rubbing hard at it while he thought of me with someone else, salty tears pouring down his cheeks as he got red and horny and sad and miserable.

He introduced me to the idea of a crywank. And he vocalised something I’d have been too shy to put into words: crying can be a massive turn-on.

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A whole bunch of things change as we get older: some of us get more cynical, a bit lazy, more likely to scowl than smile if we’re invited to a birthday party. Other people aren’t me, and they actually get more enthusiastic about things as they age. But while I frequently lament the fact that I don’t have the same attitude I had when I was eighteen, one of the things I rarely consider is the way my body’s changing as I get older.

Recently Valery North wrote a blog post about sex toys and ageing that got me thinking much harder about it. Partly because it’s hot (and I really want the gag that features in this post), but mainly because it covers something that I don’t think I’d considered before. I’d love your thoughts on it – are there toys which used to work for you but don’t any more (or which you used to struggle with but now you love)? I think there’s a tendency to believe that our sexual needs are fixed at a certain point, and we’ll be the same forever. But, as Valery’s post shows, we’re probably much more complicated than that…

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