I like things that are new and different, and sex toys that do stuff I haven’t felt before. That doesn’t mean that all those sex toys will get me off: if I wanted a reliable, functional, powerful wank then I would never deviate from my Doxy. But I like sex toys that make me feel new things. The Queen Bee is one of those sex toys, and thanks to the fact that I work with the company, I got to play with an early version and then write about it before other people get their hands on one, so I am going to grasp this opportunity with… well, with one hand. The hand I am not currently using to hold the Queen Bee to my clit. Let us commence.

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There is something very sexy about you having your own room. I don’t mean your own bedroom – although there’s definitely a flutter of hot lust in my gut when I imagine you visiting my room for a functional fuck. Emptying your aching balls into me then disappearing into a den of your own for some proper rest. Like an entitled duke in some historical erotica. Using me because you can, then keeping the rest of your life separate and secret, so all I can do is lust from a distance and wish I could get closer.

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“SHORTS,” my brain screams, irritatingly. “LOOK. MEN WEARING SEXY SHORTS.” Try as I might to shut it up, it refuses to be silenced on the most important issue of the day. “LOOK,” it insists, even as I try to distract myself by remembering my times tables, “THERE ARE SEXY LEGS ALL OVER THE PLACE. SHORTS. LOOK AT THE SEXY SHORTS.” So I comply. I drink it in. And I melt with lust.

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Today is an odd day – I am sitting on my sofa nursing a giant hangover, still reeling from the election last night. So it’s fitting that instead of trying to come out with any words of my own, I’ll give my very tired brain a rest and hand over instead to a guest blogger. Clementine is here to tell you about a recent sexual encounter with a guy… and how that encounter sparked fantasies about someone completely different. No prizes for guessing which of the very specific lines in her piece press my ‘submissive lust’ buttons…

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How do you go about sharing sexy fantasies? It’s one of the questions people seem to struggle with a lot – as measured both by my inbox and also the sheer volume of advice guides written about broaching the subject with your partner. But one of the things I find fascinating/annoying about the way it’s presented is that it’s often seen as an ‘all or nothing’ thing: that you tell your partner you want to be dominated (with a strap-on and a vigorous pegging, for example), and they either tell you ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ That’s it: a green light or a red one, and then the discussion has ended. I don’t think that’s how it always works.

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