Girl on the Net

Love does not write in pencil on your heart, it’s permanent. Impossible to erase. Sure, it might one day turn to hatred or disgust, like fresh wounds becoming twisted scars long after they were first carved into your flesh. But you don’t forget it easily. Love can change and it can die, you can lose it or throw it away or cure yourself of the cravings for it like a powerful addiction… but you can’t just erase it altogether.

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Today’s guest blog is another fabulous team effort, by two writers who wanted to capture the intimacy, excitement and hotness of their first BDSM date. Please welcome The Petite (her) and The Giant (him), who met online when he came across one of her fantasies, and offered to help her fulfil it. Belt, BDSM, anal and more. A glorious first encounter told from two perspectives: she begins the story, and his contributions are indented and woven throughout.

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When I posted the following offer, I didn’t expect anyone to take me up on it: “I have no Valentine’s plans so am considering lining up phone dates… I’ll date you then explain why you’re failing. Tempted?” But somebody did! A dude who genuinely wanted to get better at dating, and asked for my help to pinpoint where he might be going wrong. Here’s what happened when I had a test date with a blog reader.

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You’ve met this guy before. Possibly the most casual man I’ve ever fucked. Chill. Direct. Horny. Extremely forgiving of the fact that I disappeared for eighteen months into monogamy. The kind of dude who’s happy to pop back when required to deliver great dick without drama. Breaking the seal, if you will. We’re catching up over email and I tell him I’m single now. That I may be emotionally battered but I’ve gained a wicked new story. I don’t outright say that I’d love to get fucked, but he picks up the hint regardless: “Would you like to tell me the wicked story over a pint, then have a ride on my dick?” Fuck yes.

CN: light kink, slapping.

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There are two things I adore about today’s guest blog. Firstly its celebration of something that is so often shamed. I’m a sucker for a change in narrative, especially one which helps to brush aside societal norms that can be harmful and irritating. I’ve always found hairy armpits wildly sexy – watching a hot guy lie back in bed with his hands behind his head makes me want to do feral, torrid things with his body. But I always struggled to find pit hair sexy on myself, until I stopped shaving back in 2020 and never looked back. The second thing I love about this guest blog is the way it captures something I’ve tried to articulate myself, but never so clearly: the way that desire can mould and shape itself to the things in your life at this moment. Your partner’s quirks and mannerisms. Their specific body, and how it changes over time. This post is an ode to hairy armpits, but I think it’s also a love letter to this kind of desire. And I adore it.

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