One of the strange things about my current relationship – as opposed to any other I’ve been in – is that I’ve forgotten how to get rejected. I know, right? Poor me. Please crack out the smallest violin you own and play a concerto in ‘Woe is GOTN.’ Rejection – and specifically sexual rejection – is something I used to have a lot of practise in. I knew how to take a ‘no’, and greet it with a shrug and a cuddle. I knew how to take ‘seriously? Now? AGAIN?’ and absorb it into my thick, thick skin, so it couldn’t pierce through to the soft bit inside me that – whisper it – needed sex to feel loved.

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“This is perhaps the closest I’ve got to one of my own ideas: that of a sex duvet made from soft and strokeable fabric that vocally rumbles as it is touched and that curls around me as I sink into it. My sex robot will be changeable at a whim: perhaps one day a bed made of breasts; another day, a series of vibrating and moving penises that talk dirty to me. Maybe sometimes both. Because that’s the joy of adaptable, personalisable sex robots that aren’t human, that aren’t gendered – they can just be what feels good at a particular time.” – Kate Devlin, Turned On: Science, Sex and Robots

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Sometimes my sexy blogs end with an orgasm. Other times they don’t. Sometimes they are neatly rounded off with a Scrubs-voiceover-style conclusion, wrapping up the whole experience with a neat and quotable line about love or empathy or deep-throating or what have you. But other times I leave them hanging, like on a recent post about getting fucked by a machine which ended just as I started speculating on whether my partner’s dick could fit inside me while I rode it. Someone in the comments said they’d like to know what happened next, and seeing as this is a question I get asked a lot about the sexy blog posts, I thought I’d have a crack at answering it.

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I live in fear of injuring my wanking hand. Or hands, plural, now that my best orgasms come from using two of my favourite sex toys simultaneously. But this week’s guest blogger, LoveLustLondon (@LoveLustLondon on Twitter), is looking on the bright side. He’s here to tell you how a hand injury has helped him rediscover different kinds of masturbation, and gain a new appreciation for different masturbation techniques…

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It’s that time of year again, in which I get to let my inner creepy goth out and write some Halloween erotica. Last year I did sex with zombies, the previous year it was a succubus (sort of), and this year – thanks to suggestions and ideas from some lovely people on Twitter – I’m tackling a creature from the deep. If you’d prefer to listen rather than read, it’s also available as audio – click ‘listen now’ above, or head to the audio porn page if you’d like to hear more sexy stories read aloud. I’m always a bit nervous and uncertain about writing fiction, but these Halloween erotica pieces are always a genuine pleasure to write, so I hope I can manage to give you a creepy shiver or two.

Content note: this story is written for Halloween, and is designed to be a tale of creepiness with a bit of sex thrown in. As a result it contains some themes that you might find disturbing: references to drowning, self-harm and suicidal ideation.

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