Tag Archives: boys I’ve slept with
The best sex we ever had together
I’ve been asked before about the best sex I’ve ever had – the question itself is a weird one. Much as I love ranking things, it’s truly hard to choose a ‘best’ shag, because the criteria will change depending on my mood. Do you mean ‘best sex’ in terms of filthiness? Sheer pleasure? Bucket-list options ticked off? If you ask me about the best sex, I’ll need a bit of clarification on terms. But if you ask me about the best sex with any specific guy, I can usually give you an answer. It just might not be the one you would expect.
People who have fallen asleep on me during sex
Have you ever been in the middle of something super hot only to have the person who was enthusiastically moaning two minutes earlier suddenly let out a snore? Congratulations, you’re definitely not alone. Between 40-50% of people I surveyed have fallen asleep during sex.
How do I know if you’re my boyfriend?
Relationships are often full of uncertainty. We meet someone we like, we fall for them, and we wonder – what exactly are they to me? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Fuck buddy? Lover? Person-I’m-dating-temporarily? The good people – the ones who are decent and kind and open and trustworthy – will either know what you are or they’ll help you work it out. You’ll have those giggling deep conversations over a bottle of wine or a pot of coffee at 8 am, and you’ll say:
“What are we, exactly? Lovers, fuck buddies, boyfriends or…?”
Wet fucking – the kind you need special sheets for
I’ve never been a big fan of massage oil – it gets all sticky on my hands. While it’s delightful to stroke and prod and knead someone else’s body (particularly the arse – God how I love rubbing oiled-up hands on someone’s arse) I’ve always been a bit put off by the fact that when the massage stops and the slippery fucking begins, there’s nowhere to wipe my hands.
Until now, because I have one of these amazing tactile fluidproof sheets, and holy shit do I love it. The following post isn’t a review, it’s just an account of some wet and delicious sex I had. It’s also written pretty much in one take, because I got horny while I was writing it and it was a choice of either editing it for ages or just putting it live then having a wank and a nap. Sorry.
‘I need you’ versus ‘I want you’
When you’re here all the time, I forget who I am on my own. I paint a picture of myself that includes you and it messes around with the truer picture of what I’m actually like.
So this week, while you’re away, I’ve spent the time remembering.