I love dick, it’s brilliant. Unfortunately, I don’t love it all the time on a 24/7 basis. As a sex blogger, my work is a constant background throb throughout my life: even when I’m not feeling horny, my Tweetdeck spits out pre-scheduled posts from ‘this time last year’ in which I wax lyrical about my love of blow jobs. About a year ago, I got frustrated with the fact that this painted a picture of me as constantly horny for cock, which men (understandably) responded to in the moment, without realising that at that specific point I was actually in the middle of extremely stressful work and probably not up for sexting at that moment in time. All this to say, I wrote a silly poem called ‘your dick can wait, I’m working.’ Don’t take it too seriously, especially if you and I are fucking.

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He’s at the toilet, pissing heavily into the bowl. I’m standing behind him with my arms wrapped round his waist, gripping him ever so gently so I don’t put him off or change the direction of the stream. Both of us are staring down at the task in hand. The fat head of his flaccid cock gripped between thumb and forefingers. When he pushes out the last few drops, he grunts a little at the back of his throat. The same way he sometimes grunts when he comes inside me. When he’s finished peeing, he turns his head towards me and whispers in my ear ‘what do you want?’

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I have occasionally waxed lyrical to men I fuck about the joy of sucking soft cock, and they don’t always get what the draw is. This is understandable, if you’ve never done it yourself, but it’s frankly a situation that needs rectifying. I would like everyone who has a cock to understand the unique and special pleasure that comes from sucking a soft one. And honestly, though I’d love to be able to describe it myself, I couldn’t do even half as good a job at capturing the pleasure as @citrusandsex has. Check out her Literotica page here, and read her guest blog on sucking soft cock below. It took my breath away.

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This gorgeous erotica about fucking over a mirror is written by Spencer Pritchard. It is read aloud here by Matt Johnson. 

I can’t quite remember where this falls in to the timeline of those two weeks in each other’s arms. My brain has shaken that particular tin of memories around so much, it doesn’t seem to have an order anymore. Just a beginning and an inevitable (and unwelcome) conclusion. The middle is a sweaty, panting, sticky mess of nights out with cocktails, a lazy Sunday getting lost in the city, verdant parks, pizza in bed, too many restaurants… All punctuated by your naked body, your incredible and explosive orgasms, and the strength of the bond that connected us.

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First things first: when people say ‘it happens all the time!’ I cannot stress enough just how true this actually is. Perhaps I’m wildly unattractive or extremely intimidating (lol ‘perhaps’ – I have been informed on various occasions that I am both of these things, but some men choose to fuck me anyway so I’m gonna work on the assumption that they’re not just making it up for lolz) but rest assured it’s reasonably common. Please trust me on this – I’m a big slag who has been lucky enough to spend a lot of time with dick. Most people I’ve shagged for any length of time have at some point found they can’t get an erection. I am not qualified to tell you how to magically make one appear, but I can give you some suggestions on what to do if you find yourself in that situation and you struggle to move past it.

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