Girl on the Net

This week’s fabulously sexy guest blog is an extract from Kirstyn Smith’s novella, The Twelve Lays of Christmas. I absolutely adore the idea behind this playful book – from the blurb:

“Ivy is stuck in a rut. She hasn’t hooked up with anyone since her last terrible relationship ended more than a year ago. That is, until her bff Aoife comes up with a challenge. The Twelve Lays of Christmas: hook up with twelve different people before Christmas Day.”

YES. As someone who is keen to give myself challenges and side quests, I was immediately hooked by the pitch, and then completely enamoured of the extract she sent for me to share with you – it’s sexy, thoughtful, playful and all the things I fucking love about great sex writing. For context, this extract features the eighth person Ivy has hooked up with since the start of the challenge, and we join the story shortly after an encounter with someone who had a fetish for popping balloons. This next guy? Well… he’s into slime. Like, really into it. What I love about this story is not just how fucking joyful it is – reminding any Channel 4 documentary makers out there that you can explore unusual kinks in a non-shaming way – but also the fact that the author, Kirstyn Smith, tells me it’s based on a true story. Enjoy!
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I love Doctor Nerdlove. He’s a brilliant advice columnist whose responses often give me a new perspective on love and relationships. He is kind and patient, but willing to call someone on their bullshit when that is required. This response to a writer who is bitter about women was especially exceptional. I’m opening with a thorough arse-kissing because for the first time in ages I disagree with something he wrote. It’s a really old post, and normally I wouldn’t highlight those because who gives a fuck that I disagree with something that someone wrote ten years ago? I want to discuss it, though, because the emotional wail of anguish that sits at the heart of why I disagree has been on my mind a lot lately. I don’t want to do that without first telling you how much I love his work, though. Tl;dr – I’m using an old Doctor Nerdlove post as the springboard for a rant, but you should know I massively respect him and if he ever finds himself in London I will buy him a pint and a pasty by way of apology. Let’s talk about compromise in relationships, and why I never want anyone to ‘settle’ for me.

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Describing a sexual experience can be difficult and delicate in itself, but it’s even more challenging to go beyond that and show the ways in which individual sexual experiences can have a broader ripple effect – on the way you feel about yourself, your body, your relationship to others and the world. This week’s guest blog is about hearing audio porn for the first time, and touching yourself to something that feels truly intimate. But it’s also about so much more than that. Huge thanks to the author, YHD, whose writing absolutely took my breath away.

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I like to think the world has moved on since I started sex blogging nearly fifteen years ago, but there are some terrible ideas that still won’t die. One of these is the false belief that if you’re in a monogamous relationship, you owe your partner a certain amount of sex to prevent them from straying. If you’re busy/tired/overworked? Just make a sex schedule! Set aside a specific time and make yourself do it, even if you aren’t in the mood. While I’m all up for scheduling quality time or date nights, I find the idea of ‘scheduled sex’ pretty grim. Because even if you love the person who wants it, the fact remains that you never have to have sex if you don’t want to.

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I roll on top of him first thing in the morning. He’s awake, but pretending not to be. As I grip his dick and squeeze gently just below the coronal ridge, it pulses hotter and harder in the palm of my hand. When I start to stroke it, a smile flickers briefly at the corner of his lips. He suppresses it, then feigns a still-sleepy half-stretch to make the angles easier for me to straddle him and hop aboard.

This post is not consensual non-consent. Everything that happens is extremely consensual. However, the fantasy I tell this guy while we’re in bed does have notes of CNC, coercion and fucking-as-punishment. I maintain that it is not a CNC story, rather it is a consensual story about two people who enjoy playing in this fantasy space. It’s a hill my career will probably die upon at some point, but for what it’s worth I think it’s more than possible to present these fantasies in an ethical way, and part of doing that means warning you that you’re about to read something in this vein. 

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