Tag Archives: communication

Men who’ve turned me down
It’s hard to talk about rejection without sounding like you’re looking for sympathy. What’s more, it’s almost impossible to make rejection sexy. So on this sex blog, I very rarely talk about times when I was dumped, or when a hot person greeted my clumsy ‘fancy a shag?’ with a ‘no.’
But I think it’s important to talk about rejection. Firstly because I don’t want to give the impression that my life has been an unending sex-fest with anyone I choose. I hate to think I’d feed into the myth that men will fuck anyone who asks, because it’s total bollocks, as most people who’ve tried to fuck men will tell you. Secondly, there are often great things that come out of rejection: friendships made, lessons learned, disasters averted.
So, with all my love and thanks to each of them: here are three guys who’ve rejected me.

Book launch: chapter 6, How A Bad Girl Fell In Love – text and audio
My latest book is out today! Here are the links to buy it, and if you want to read a sample, then below is the whole of chapter 6, in text and at the bottom in audio (which I think technically counts as audio porn).
Extract below. I’m chuffed that this was the chapter picked for extract because I think it gives a pretty decent overview of the book – a bit of behind-the-scenes on blogging, a couple of fucking lovely blokes, a rant about openness and a dirty lubed-up hand job. Hope you like it.

The one thing I always do after sex
What do you do after sex? Chat, maybe? Fall asleep? Sometimes a fuck is so energetic that when you’re catching your breath afterwards you barely have the energy left to high-five. Perhaps your post-sex ritual involves a large bacon sandwich and a coffee with two sugars.
Whatever floats your boat: despite having been super-judgy about it in the past when I was young and wrong, the post-sex ritual is as individual as the shag itself. Some couples need peace and quiet, others need coffee, but for me there’s one thing I always do once the spunk has settled: a kind of sexual post-match analysis.

Emotional labour: how much can I ask of you?
I’ve always been the one who gets to hear people’s secrets. Maybe I’m great at keeping them, or perhaps I just have the look of someone who’s keen to hear all the dirty details. Maybe both – I hope so.
Even before I started sex blogging, I’d have friends email or text to say ‘I did something super-hot yesterday and I’m not sure who else to tell so…’ We’d chat about it together, swap stories and share experiences, and give each other the best non-judgy advice or support we could muster.
Then I started a sex blog.
I still chat to friends about sex secrets and details, but I’m lucky enough that I have an outlet for it here. You read and respond and share and chat, and we have a special club where we can talk about this stuff. It’s awesome. It’s reciprocal. It’s simultaneously a shared joy and a shared burden – depending on what we’re talking about.
It also means that lots more people confide in me privately.
What about the men? Listen to this…
You should listen to this. It’s a podcast of a show by Dave Pickering (@goosefat101 on Twitter). He guest-blogged for me a while ago, after conducting a survey on what men think of patriarchy. His show is about the results of that survey, but more than that it’s about the way that structural inequality has hurt him – directly and indirectly. He tells a really gripping story, that includes a lot of things I think and say, and it touches me a lot purely because it comes from the mouth of a man. One day I’ll explain exactly why that’s important to me.
It’s an hour long, and it contains some quite disturbing material – there are more specific content notes at the beginning of the recording.
Go and visit Dave’s website here – Mansplaining Masculinity. And please share this. Each time you share this, you save one woman from having to explain yet again, with a weary exhaustion, that when we rail against inequality we’re not fighting against men. We’re hoping men will join us in making things better for everyone.