Before I suck dick, I take out my lip ring. I haven’t always done this – some guys used to enjoy the extra sensation, so I’d leave it in. Others felt it made very little difference – a blow job’s a blow job, right? – so I wouldn’t bother taking it out before I began. But my current partner prefers his blow jobs au naturel, so I take out my lip ring. And in doing so, I’ve inadvertently managed to achieve a bizarre sexual ambition.

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Two things this week is going to begin with a hilarious conversation I had with a website owner this week about working for free. Then, when that’s got you good and angry, I will cheer you up with news of a musical about vibrators. There’s also a bonus ‘good thing’ from Erika Lust, if you have an amazing idea for a porn film.

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Every now and then I like to Google the word ‘sexy’ to see what comes up. I’m not just bad at finding porn – I’m mostly interested because Google’s algorithms are often an interesting insight into the way people view the world. Google, to a certain extent, reflects what we find sexy today. On top of that, it often feeds back into itself, and in turn shapes what we’ll find sexy tomorrow.

The image above is what came up when I googled ‘sexy’ today. Let’s see what this tells us.

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It’s been five years since I started this blog. Which is fucking bizarre when I sit down and think about it. Five entire years of my life – that’s nearly 16% of my time on this planet – has been spent sex blogging. For nearly three of those years being ‘Girl on the Net’ has been my full-time job.

So this post might be a bit meta and involved for some of you, but for others who are either sex blogging already or thinking of setting out, I wanted to give you as honest an overview as I can of what 5 years’ of sex blogging looks like. The numbers, the lessons learned, the mistakes and the occasional successes. Here goes.

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I’ve lost count now of the number of exes I’ve stared at across a pub table and thought ‘God, I wish you were inside me right now.’ Chances are if I’ve fucked you once I’ll probably be up for another go, and having a casual pint with you and discussing your job/wedding/newborn baby is not going to do anything to help distract me from the fact that I once tasted your dick and it was goooood. But this isn’t about ex-lust, it’s about getting over your ex. It’s about the feeling you get when someone amazing has gone, and it feels like nothing will ever fill the cavernous, throbbing hole bored straight through your heart.

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