A conversation, late one night:

“What do you want to do that we haven’t done yet? What fantasies do you have that I could fulfil?” A slightly more sensible question than the ones I usually ask, and it gave him pause for thought.

Before you read on, I should tell you that this post contains dirty sex stories and fantasies that aren’t in any way safe for work.

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When Valentine’s Day comes around I’m struck by the uniform nature of seduction – if we’ve decided to spend the 14th having a sexy evening in, we’re expected to conjure romance and sexiness using lingerie, rose petals, and a strategically timed raise of the eyebrow. Words like ‘intimate’ and ‘sensual’ are hurled around with casual abandon, as if these are things anyone can just conjure out of thin air. As if all sex starts with a soundtrack and a flurry of silk sheets and voile.

I can’t help but think I’m expected to charm guys into bed with grace and dignity, ideally leaving a waft of some expensive perfume leaving a trail from the doorway to the bed.

That is not my seduction style.

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God, I love nipples.

Never has a bunch of nerve-endings been collected so neatly together in one place only to be so frequently overlooked as on the human nipple.

Sure, they have a legit purpose – they can sometimes be used to feed babies. Occasionally they can be used to shock facebook users into pressing the ‘OMG get rid of it I am so horrified’ button. After a lot of experimentation, I can tell you that they can’t be used as an alternative to a fingerprint to unlock the iPhone 5.

But what they can be used for is to push me swiftly over the edge into fairly intense arousal.

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Sometimes there’s this thing he does. Or, more specifically, this thing he makes me do: spread.

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Where’s all the hot porn of guys using sex toys? Oh, that’s right, it’s often self-uploaded onto tube sites, or on gay-guy specific sites. How often is this stuff pitched to straight women? RARELY. Well, here’s my pitch.

I love the look of a guy when he’s got his junk in his hand. Boyfriends who take dirty snaps to send me from a distance when they’re gripped around it, and pulsing with the need to come: amazing. I still have one or two favourite photos (OK, so one is a video) of guys I know doing bad bad things to themselves, and gleefully recording the evidence so I can watch it later.

One guy sat spread-legged on the floor, camera phone propped in front to give a tight-cropped shot of his junk, and rapidly milked himself into his own left hand. Unngh.

I’ve talked before about Schroedinger’s Wank – that the hottest of all possible ‘guywanking’ scenarios is the one I can probably never see. Because what I want is to see him doing it exactly what he’d do for himself if I weren’t there – all pleasure, no performance. Sadly I’ll never be quite invisible or sneaky enough to be able to see this, but there is one thing that makes watching guy wanks hotter…

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