This guest blog was born as one of the sexiest Twitter threads I think I’ve ever read, by @mudkri. The way she writes about kissing and being kissed made me realise I’d been aching and yearning for someone to kiss me. For exactly the kind of kissing-for-kissing’s sake that she was describing. Or maybe her thread brought on that yearning – described it all so beautifully, with such delicious shuddery intensity, that I subsumed her wants into my own. I don’t know. All I know is that this is indescribably hot. Thank you so much, Kristina, for bringing that joy to this blog.

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One of the things that blogging is good for, I think, is showing people a far broader range of stories and journeys than you’d get if you relied solely on mainstream media for your messaging around sex. People with lived experience can join discussions to give you tips based on what has worked for them. Recently I wrote about the film Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, and the powerful message it gave about sexuality – you are never too late to start exploring and enjoying your body. In response to my piece, the fabulous @BibulousOne (who writes beautifully here – Pain As Pleasure) got in touch offering to share his thoughts as an older man who began his own sexual adventures later in life, and I’m so grateful to him for being willing to share what led him to start exploring kink in his fifties, as well as a few useful lessons for the rest of us no matter what our age…

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This is ‘Consent’ – a story demonstrating why consent is sexy, written and read by JM Seaborn. Note that this story uses ‘Daddy’ as an honorific. All characters are over 18. 

Consent isn’t homework. It’s not the boring part or the legal disclaimer. It’s not the vegetables you have to eat to get to dessert. Consent is the pulsing electricity that will pass between us with enough power to blow the bulbs of a city.

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I love being a submissive. Although I play in a dominant mode sometimes, I tend to be most comfortable at the absolute rock-bottom of the power hierarchy. And as a sub who desperately wants people to use and degrade me, I’m always fascinated by how those fantasies look from those who perform the degradation. What is it that appeals about being dominant? How does it feel to perform the kind of acts that I love, when you have to be the one wielding cruelty? This week’s fabulous guest blog is written by a dominant guy – who has guest blogged beautifully here before – in response to a question I asked about this. I love being submissive, but what does it mean to love being dominant? I’m so grateful to him for his thoughtful (and extremely hot) response, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did.

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Yesterday I asked Twitter to give me a hand with blog topics – I have a few drafts but none are quite ready, and I was in a bit of a funk and feeling meh about writing in general. Not only did they come through in a powerfully brilliant way, with tonnes of questions that I may well tackle later, but one question in particular leapt out at me and begged for a longform answer. So with apologies to those of you who asked ones I have not answered (I’ll try, I promise), today I’m going to have a crack at this one from Quinn Rhodes: where does foreplay end and sex begin?

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