A friend of mine recently quizzed me on what I think about while shagging. Or, more specifically, who.

I’m drawing a blank, I’m afraid. I mean, it’s not like I go unconscious as soon as I get my kit off, but in terms of mental energy I don’t think I have more than is required to focus on what’s happening at any given moment. I’m not saying this to boast about how amazingly focused I am on sex – I don’t think ‘thinking about a celebrity arse’ is some sort of crime, for which you get a tick in the ‘bad sex’ column. I just don’t happen to do it.

Other people do though, apparently, at least according to my friend who – while humping a guy she didn’t really get that excited by – has lived a full and rich mental life in which she’s performed sex acts on most of her favourite TV stars and a few of mine to boot.

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One of the most popular things I write about is also one of the most ‘Marmite’ – you either love it or you hate it: Throatfucking. Deepthroat. Enthusiastic head.

Some people, like me, are big fans of it. I like it not just because there’s a joyful sense of satisfaction and achievement if I can swallow the whole of someone’s cock. That’s nice of course but what really makes my cunt throb is the noises that he makes when I manage to get it right in. The moans at the back of his throat when the head of his prick slips down past mine, and my lips touch the base of his shaft. Yet for all those who love it, there are others who’d rather stay shallow and avoid the choking fullness of the whole palaver.

This is by way of introduction to this week’s guest blog, and to explain that if you’re one of the latter people, and deep throat just isn’t your thing, then this blog probably isn’t for you. If, on the other hand, this kind of head turns you on like nothing else, then you’ll be as pleased as I am to read Beth’s guest blog. Deeply filthy, intensely hot, and very Not Safe For Work, here’s her deepthroat adventure…

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At my first ever munch about – oooh, a million years ago now – the first question people asked was: “are you a top or a bottom?” As we mingled with a bunch of exceptionally friendly people, dressed in anything from jeans and t-shirt to ropework and pants, everyone wanted to know:

“Top or bottom?”

“Domme or sub?”

What are you?

For want of a better word, we both said ‘switch.’ Having done our research (read: furiously masturbated to a number of blog posts and forum debates) we figured that our ‘whatever we fancy at the time’ attitude probably best fit into that category. Neither of us was a particularly dominant person, nor were either of us comfortable being cast in the role of submissive, nervous that it would prevent us from having the same kind of playful back-and-forth that was a staple of our usual nights out.

Kinda silly, really, but we were young, and hadn’t a sodding clue what we were doing.

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Oh for the love of a man who wants to watch me fuck other men. Cuckolding – that’s the technical term. Cuckqueaning being the gender-flipped equivalent, where straight women get off on watching their guys with other women. I long for a guy who gets off on cuckolding.

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Some men fuck like I make coffee: cheaply, quickly, and without fear for what you’ll have to wipe up afterwards.

I like this very much.

Naturally no one would want it like that all the time. If every guy came within a few seconds, panting ‘sorry’ five seconds after he’d whispered a ‘shall we?’ then sex would hold about as much joy for me as a quick, relief-fuelled piss behind a tree when I’m out walking and caught short.

But sometimes it’s exactly what I’m after. I love intense fucks: ones where you spend ages fucking me into a frothing squirm of orgasmic desperation, then deliver one or two nice, deep thrusts that give me that relief, but occasionally I bloody love it when you don’t.

When you put your dick inside me and – seconds later – I feel it pulsing come even as your muscles tense with cringing embarrassment.

‘I’m sorry.’
‘That almost never happens.’
‘Give me a few minutes and we’ll go again.’

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