I think I’ve got it: the cast-iron, rock-solid argument for why you should tell me at least some of what you wank about. Not ‘you’ as in ‘everyone’, ‘you’ as in ‘people I am fucking/wooing/thirsting after.’ I know it is kind of terrifying to let someone deep into your horny, fuckdrunk brain, but this is why you should take your courage in both hands and tell me what you wank about anyway.

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This week’s guest blog includes discussion of sexual violence. It’s by the brilliant @EuphemiseThis, who’s written here in the past about gorgeously sexy things – having her first threesome, being spanked by a couple, and lots more. But today she’s here to share a recent experience with a man who was not who he said he was. One of the things that has helped save countless people I know from abuse is the bravery of people speaking up about when it happens – sharing stories and alerting others to people who may be a danger to them. Huge thanks to her for sharing her story here.

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So I’m definitely SUPER into rough sex and degradation and stuff, but I’d rather be degraded for how slutty I’m being than for how I look. If we’re talking hard limits you should know I am very sensitive when it comes to my body so ‘you filthy little bitch’ is A-OK, but ‘pig’: not so much. I’m up for butt stuff but I’d like fair warning so I can do a bit (OK, a lot) of prep for anal in general. I’m not into age-play, so you’re never my fucking Daddy and I guess the MAIN thing… like my hardest of all hard limits… is… could you please be really careful with my glasses?

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As a huge fan of the power of words, I am fully in love with this week’s guest blog which is about a super-hot sexting relationship which happened almost exclusively via the medium of sexy messages. In the right moment, the three dots indicating someone’s writing can have a distinctly Pavlovian horn response, and this week’s writer – Gavriel Hollander – has captured the joy of it beautifully. Read, enjoy and embrace the awesome things we can do purely with the power of language…

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My ex once offered to buy a stranger’s shoes, to stop him from hassling me outside a restaurant. It was the weirdest method of stopping someone being harassed that I’d ever come across, and alongside being genuinely funny to me at the time, it also worked.

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