On an average day, I can be turned on by a whole bunch of things. Hot people on the train, dudes who got caught in a rain shower, watching computer programmers… But when I’m on my period, or just coming off it, the list of things that give me that ‘unngh’ feeling – the kick in the gut of lust that I bang on about so much in my book – expands to include a hell of a lot more. Let’s talk period horn…

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What do you do if you have a weird fetish that you think no one else shares? If you get turned on by something that literally cannot exist in real life, where do you find the community, the discussion and the porn that other kinky people use to fulfil their own desires?

If you’ve been reading for a while you’ll know that I have a massive thing for unusual fetishes – I love hearing about kinks and quirks and sexual tastes that fall well outside my own. This week’s guest blogger has a fetish you may not have heard of, as well as a window into an entire subgenre of self-made porn. His post blew me away with the intensely nerdy definitions and classifications which split the genre itself, as well as his honesty and sadness about the reality of loving something that’s rarely ever mentioned.

Over to him…

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“I’m hard because you’re crying.”

Said with sheepish, downturned eyes. He was expecting me to be horrified. Expecting me to tell him he was filthy and disgusting, and that my misery wasn’t cheap porn scene for him to get a boner over. What he – and if I’m honest, I – wasn’t expecting was for a hot pulse of arousal to flood through my stomach and crotch, soaking my knickers and wishing I could muster more tears.

What he didn’t know at the time was that I found his tears equally hot. He’d once told me a story of something he’d done after we broke up, and it filled my head with a vision of him gripping his dick with fury and rubbing hard at it while he thought of me with someone else, salty tears pouring down his cheeks as he got red and horny and sad and miserable.

He introduced me to the idea of a crywank. And he vocalised something I’d have been too shy to put into words: crying can be a massive turn-on.

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I’m pretty obnoxious and annoying sometimes. I can be far too loud in some situations, and far too quiet in others. Sometimes I sit nervously in a corner checking my phone because I’m too shy to introduce myself. At other times, I drink a couple of pints in rapid succession to calm my nerves and end up saying things I wouldn’t say if I was sober. Both of these traits, along with many others, have caused me to miss out on opportunities to get laid. But none more so than one thing: smoking.

I smoke. And I kind of want to add ‘too much’ to that, but realistically smoking at all is usually too much when seen through the eyes of a non-smoker. When I was dating, the sheer number of people who’d write ‘I can’t stand smokers’ on their dating profiles, or tick the boxes that say ‘smoking is a dealbreaker’ means my pool of potential shag buddies was severely limited.

But smoking has also helped me get laid. Not because men see me across a crowded beer garden and go ‘oh look, her who’s too pissed to light the right end: she’s the one for me’, but because for the best part of my formative years, smoking was considered cool.

Which means that I have a really fucked up relationship with smoking and sex.

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This week’s guest blogger is Dr Gloria Brame, and she’s got a smoking hot sex story to share. Gloria is a clinical sex therapist, a leader in radical sex theory and education, and she founded the world’s first online BDSM support group. She’s best known for her books Different Loving and The Truth About Sex, which promote evidence-based, pro-diversity perspectives on human sexuality.

Here, though, she’s sharing something raw and hot and personal, which relates to a sex story in her latest book – A Fetish for Men (Amazon US link).

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