Have you ever read something that makes you think ‘wow holy shit, I am now so utterly desperate to suck a dick I am positively hurting for it’? That’s how I felt when I read this stunningly hot guest blog, by @jamiebear. Jamie Bowden-Smith is a historian of the late 20th century and runs the Gay News Archive Project, republishing the pioneering LGBT+ newspaper of the 1970s. He is also a very proud sub, as well as clearly an absolute blow job artist. He’s written beautifully before for the blog about the sexiness of smell and how evocative it can be when it comes to sex and memory. Now he’s here with a red-hot story that explains why he’s so proud of his submission…

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Ride of the Valkyries makes it in, obviously, as does Night On Bare Mountain, but Oh Fortuna is far too funny and Pachelbel’s Canon too soft. We’re sitting on the sofa skimming through a Spotify list of ‘Top 100 Classical Music Bangers’ and, of course, selecting which ones we will fuck to.

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This fabulous casual sex story about getting savagely fucked by a reply guy is written by Charlotte Bayes, read by Sherryl Blu. Note that it contains some consensual choking. 

I do not wish to be perceived as desperate, but after a catalogue of bad experiences both on and off The Apps, I really didn’t know what else to do but to debase myself on Twitter dot com. Asking for a date at the very least on the ‘hell site’ might be able to at least bring some more like-minded people together as opposed to random swipes and hours wasted talking to seemingly normal men. Or men who seem normal at first then turn out to use curtains instead of bedroom doors in their houseshare. They made it very clear I had to try something else.

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Apropos of absolutely nothing, I’m going to tell you a story about this one time (ages ago) when I fucked the furniture. Specifically a bed. And technically, properly, I guess if you want to get right down to the nitty-gritty detail of the thing, it wasn’t just ‘me fucking a bed’, it was ‘us’. Because while I shagged the bed with my excellent and adventurous vagina, the man I loved was having a valiant go at simultaneously fucking me up the arse. Let’s do this.

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One of the things I like to do of an evening is stick on a horny album and daydream for a while about my next set-piece fuck. By ‘set-piece’ fuck I mean something a little bit extra, not the standard ‘make out and bang’ that I’ll leap into on impulse. These might feature a new act I’ve not yet tried with this person (or at all), or something like special equipment, clothes or preparation. Sometimes it’s just a specific tone I want to play with: brattiness; begging; anticipation… you get the idea. I sit on the sofa getting high and listening to sexy music, daydreaming about a few recent hits from the bedroom, or mull over breadcrumbs that my partner might have casually dropped into conversation when hinting at what they might like, then see if I can come up with something that presses buttons for both of us. Now feels as good a time as any to talk about set-piece fucks, because I recently became single so I won’t be able to do them again for a really long time. Talking about the pleasure I get from doing this sort of thing gives me the chance to shoehorn in a topic I’ve wanted to discuss for a while: what monogamy means to me.

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