I love it when someone gets in touch to pitch a very specific case: something that they feel incredibly strongly about, for which they’d like their message to get as big an audience as possible. Doubly so when I approve that message wholeheartedly, as I do with this one. Today’s guest blogger would like to address cisgender men who have apparently been taking sex advice from misogynist pickup artists from the early noughties. Please welcome the fabulous Synonymph – a polyamorous sex enthusiast with a firm message for the men she meets: please please stop putting her hand on your boner.

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Yes, of course, we should all move on and away from those who have done us harm or with whom we’ve realised longer relationships won’t work out. But sometimes there’s no substitute for fucking someone who knows you really well – your body, your kinks, the things that make you squirm and come. I think today’s guest blogger and I are similar in this regard. The fabulous LM is back with another incredibly hot blog post about fucking her ex – this time with a selection of kinky acoutrements, at least one of which I never realised could be applied in such a sexy context. Please give her a really warm welcome, and check out some of her other incredible guest blogs by following the links in the post!

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Remember a while back when I wrote about how great it is to have tits? This week’s blog post is on a similar theme, but with a different incredible body part. It’s a post I have desperately, eagerly, fervently hoped someone might write, because I want to experience and feel the perspective on genitals I do not have myself. So please give not just a warm welcome but a standing ovation to Kara, who has written a guest blog about the joy of having a cock that is so evocative and descriptive I almost felt myself getting a ghost boner as I read it. Take it away Kara…

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“Breathe for me,” he says, all soft-dom calm and patient. I’m lying on my back and his dick is almost inside me. It’s taken a lot of work for us to get to this point. And by ‘work’ I mean, of course, ‘fun’. I’ll explain all that in a second, but for now just know that I’m lying on my back, folded in half, and he’s got his hands on my thighs. Holding my ass at the perfect angle for him to slip his cock in with least resistance. There is still resistance, though, because he’s got girth and I’m lacking in practice. That’s where the meditative breathing comes in.

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It’s 11:24 in the evening, and we’ve already had a phenomenal time. A card, a cute gift, cake even. A devastating fuck that was as playful as it was brutal, which ended in him thoroughly draining his balls nice and deep in my cunt. Off the back of a week when I’ve been showered with kind words and birthday wishes from friends and family, I can’t remember the last time I felt this lucky and calm. Happy, sated and loved. And there are 36 minutes of my birthday still to go, so I ask him: “will you do exactly as I ask until it ends?” Yes, he will. Of course he will. Even though he quite rudely specifies ‘within reason’. As if I’d be anything other than reasonable in my requests…

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