“It’s hot when two girls get off, but it doesn’t work the other way round.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know. Like women watching a guy play with another guy’s dick. It doesn’t have the same effect.” 

I’ve had this conversation too many times. Far too many times. There’s a longer blog to post another day about the fact that straight-guy sexuality is so tightly woven into our culture that often dudes struggle to get their heads round the fact that, you know, they can be objects of lust just as easily as they’re subjects. But I’ll bore you about that another day.

For now, in response to the person who said this to me, allow me to describe an interaction so hot it makes my toes clench, even just remembering it.

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This is a fantasy about a porn cinema that I wrote ages ago, for reasons I can’t remember. I like things that are simultaneously sexy and grotesque – like the blow job/dripping sandwich fantasy. That’s my way of saying the following story might be weird. And maybe disturbing. And creepily voyeuristic. Alternatively it might not be, and the fact I’ve waited six months to publish it has been a complete waste of my mental energy.

If you asked me to write my own future, I would write the following story. Then you’d wish you’d never asked, and I’d have to burn it, and we probably wouldn’t be friends any more because the whole thing would get awkward.

Anyway. Some erotic fiction. Or a disturbing vision of my distant future. Don’t judge me. Let’s go. 

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How did I chat people up before? When I was single, and I had to put some effort in beyond just saying “Your dick. My mouth. Now”?

I think I probably started with a hint: a story about this one time at college, leading to a detailed breakdown of who did what. But where there were strangers, now there’s one guy. Where there were hints, now there’s directness:

“Your dick. My mouth. Now.”

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The following piece discusses submersion in water, in a BDSM context (well, it’s called ‘underwater blow job’ so you probably know that already). Please don’t read if that’s likely to disturb you. And if you’re thinking you want to do this kind of thing – read up on the risks and discuss in a lot of detail with your partner first. 

“We’ll get you a nose clip.”

That’s not where it started; that’s where it started getting serious. When the desire for water – pressure, fear – grew from a small spark of interest to a roaring fire of obsession.

I wanted him to fuck my face underwater.

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He wears a watch, and it’s beautiful.

It frames his big hands so neatly, drawing attention to the curve of his wrists and the tension in his fingers as he grips his cock.

I don’t see it at first. It’s early, and grey, and Thursday. My brain’s only just kicking itself awake when I hear the telltale shuffle of him rubbing his cock in bed beside me.

The rustle of the covers. The tight breaths that go with a swift, functional morning wank.

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