Tag Archives: advice
Guest blog: Getting paid to pee isn’t as simple as it seems
I’ve had some serious fun with golden showers/piss play/water sports in my time, but today’s guest blogger has something way more helpful and specific for those of you who’d like to try it yourselves: tips! Using stories from her time as a dominatrix, when she was getting paid to pee on people, Uncensored Kiss is here to bring you a trickle of joy in the form of some pissing top tips. How to pee standing up (if you don’t have a penis), and the best ways to practice so you don’t get stage fright.
Letter to the guys who send me private essays but never share any of my work
Hey there! Thanks so much for getting in touch off the back of one of my tweets. It’s flattering that you want to tell me your opinions/feelings/experiences when it comes to sex. I’m not gonna shame you for what you’re confessing, but please note: this isn’t actually a confessional.
You and your friends should timeshare a fucking machine
A good friend won’t raise eyebrows if they turn up at your house and there’s a fuckmachine assembled in your office. A great friend will offer to babysit your fucking machine while you’re looking for somewhere to live. The latest Kink of the Week topic is fucking machines, so I expect a lot of people will be dreaming of having a vigorous robotic fuckpony of their very own. Here’s my pitch as to why, if you can’t afford one yourself, you should consider buying one on a timeshare with your pervy mates.
Men are a luxury, and right now I am broke
Katherine Ryan tells a fabulous story, in her stand-up show Glitter Room, about the time her ex-boyfriend moved to Japan. He had to go for work, and she didn’t want to move with him, so they split up. Shortly after he arrived in the country, he rang her to express shock that she had stayed where she was, and hadn’t followed him halfway around the world. He tells her: “I thought you needed me more than that.” Katherine replies: “Oh sweetie, I didn’t need you – I liked you. I enjoy having you around, but you are a luxury item.” I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and I think I understand a bit more where I fall on the idea of ‘needing’ men (or ‘a man’). Friendships are one thing, but when it comes to sexual and romantic relationships, men are a luxury.
The walk of shame
They call it the walk of shame but you know damn well it’s a victory march. The morning after you’ve got laid, as you drag your fuck-tired body to the bus stop, or the tube, or the café round the corner which will furnish you with a bacon butty for the long journey home, you know: this is not shame, it is glory.