You don’t have to wear heels to go dancing. You don’t have to dress in sparkles or tight skirts if that’s not your thing. The t-shirt you’ve got with the faded band logo from the concert you went to five years ago? That’ll do. Those comfy trainers can help you throw shapes without twisting your ankle or starting to ache, and you just don’t need to wear heels to go dancing.

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There are very few things in life that are truly guilt-free pleasures. Throughout the history of the human race, we’ve been on the constant look-out for pleasure. And unfortunately, most of the things we find that give it to us turn out to be bad in some way. Masturbation, though, is not one of those things. It is the jewel in the pleasure crown: something which is both intensely enjoyable and actually good for you. So it’s disappointing to hear that some twats have invented ‘No Nut November’ – a masturbation version of Stoptober (for smoking) or Dry January (for booze). A month during which people are encouraged to avoid masturbation for the good of their physical and mental health.

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What’s that?

It’s a present.

For who?

For your dick.

Today I want to talk about the Tenga Flip Hole Zero EV – far too long a name for a really awesome thing. But this isn’t really a post about the Tenga Flip Zero EV: it is a love letter to dick toys. An explanation of why I love them even though I don’t have a dick myself. And above all it’s a detailed account of why it is so hot to watch my boyfriend spunk into a tube of squishy plastic.

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The last few weeks have been a barrage of news about sexual assault and harassment. Guys in powerful positions in a number of industries are getting called out for doing things that are wholly inappropriate, to people they hold power over. Is anybody else completely exhausted? I know I am. Not exhausted by the call-outs, but exhausted by the response.

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For a brief period in my otherwise sofa-based life, I used to go running. Stop laughing at the back. My boyfriend at the time was really into his running, and his enthusiasm for this activity infected me to the point where roughly three times per week I would put on my trainers and gamely wheeze my way along a river while he ran gracefully in front. It was absolutely horrible. Still. Occasionally – VERY occasionally – I managed to get into stride. For a few brief seconds, I’d bounce lightly on my feet, propel myself with power, and breath like a normal person. During those times I got a teeny flash of joy, and a revelation – this is what it must feel like to be GOOD at this! I got the same feeling recently, when going on top during a shag. The perfect rhythm, the right amount of bounce, and a sense that this is what it must feel like to be GOOD at this.

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