Girl on the Net

It is very rare for me to have an acoustic wank these days. By which I mean ‘be able to orgasm without either getting fucked by an actual human, or using a sex toy’. Gone are the days when I could make myself come using one finger and a tiny rubbing motion on my clit – subtle so as not to disturb a roommate. And we’re decades away from me being able to come with one hand in the shower – kneeling in the bath rather than standing, so I didn’t fall over at any key moments. These days, unless I have a Doxy or a Zumio, ideally with a dildo to accompany it and give me something to clamp round, the chances of me coming before my hand cramps up are slim to fuck-all. Fingers alone are no longer enough. I need more stimulation. And recently I realised that when I say ‘stimulation’, that doesn’t always have to be a sex toy or a cock. It turns out words work too.

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The first line of a blog post is not as important as you think. Sure, you want to draw people in – with a sexy image, a powerful statement, or perhaps a controversial statement to pique their interest like I’ve done here. But the first line is no more than a ‘hello’. You’re setting out your stall and encouraging people to approach, but you don’t need the first line to do more than just grab someone’s attention. The final line of a blog post: that’s what counts.

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Continuing my gleeful excitement for blog posts about ‘first times’, I am over the moon to introduce Scarlet Rose, who is here with a gorgeously descriptive piece that goes in-depth into spectacular physical sensations. As an unapologetic enabler when it comes to sex writing, I always love it when people pitch me and say ‘I am testing the water to see if I might fancy sharing more of my sexy stories’, so please do share this and comment if you feel the same way I do: the world needs more of Scarlet’s beautiful words! Kicking off with a beautifully sensual, intense guest blog about masturbation, check out Scarlet’s account of her first orgasm with a neo vagina.

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Telling people I’m a sex blogger usually leads to one or two misconceptions: that I am constantly shagging, or that I am shagging in such wildly creative ways that no normal human could keep up with the carnival of kink. But that’s not really what I’m about. I’m not obsessed with the quantity of sex I’m having, nor the depths of any particular depravity. In fact, I reckon I could have relatively vanilla sex once a month and still be eager and intense enough about it – and the fantasies that lead up to or come out of it – to write a passable sex blog. I’m not a nymphomaniac or the kinkiest woman alive: I’m just a plain old sex nerd.

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OK listen up, lover/fuckbuddy/casual shag. You want us to get our sexy fuck on, and that’s delightful. I would very much enjoy milking your dick/being ruined by you/tying you to the bedframe/getting spanked in the hallway/sucking you off/finding a secluded park where we can bang up against a tree/whatever it is that both of our little hearts crave. But in order to do this, and do it well, I need you to give me some guidance. Tell me what you want and why you want it. Talk about your desires and needs and likes and dislikes. Communicate with me – not just once, at the start of our connection, but constantly. Before, during and after sex. It’s not a one-shot thing, it’s a permanent responsibility. You want to eat the cookies? You have to help make dough.

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