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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Sexy stories! They’re more than just erotic: mine can be filthy, dirty, naughty, dark, taboo, intense, joyful, weird, confusing, delicious and wrong. And each and every one of these words is hot to me, in the right context. But someone asked recently if ‘filthy’ sex might be the wrong way to describe it, and asked: given the negative connotations of the word ‘filthy’, should we abandon that word in favour of ones which come with a little less baggage?

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As you can probably tell from the title, this post is going to involve blood so please do look away now if that’s not your thing. It also features a picture which, if you did not know the entirely consensual and sexy context, might be shocking. So before you click or scroll down, understand that the nosebleed is not the result of violence, and I’m only writing about it because the guy who features here managed to turn something as mundane as a nosebleed into the perfect climax to a BDSM fuck, and I thought some of you might appreciate the filth of it. Ready? OK.  

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I am not hoping for the apocalypse. Let that sink in, fully and completely, because although this includes a dirty story about gang-bangs and sexual servicing, it is not an ‘ apocalypse fantasy’ in the purposeful sense: I do not ever want it to come true. I don’t want the world to end, and I don’t want anyone to die. But sometimes, when I am calm and happy, I entertain myself by daydreaming about the end of the world. In my fantasy, all the people on the planet have disappeared except for a select few. And those select few: they fuck me.

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Today is an odd day – I am sitting on my sofa nursing a giant hangover, still reeling from the election last night. So it’s fitting that instead of trying to come out with any words of my own, I’ll give my very tired brain a rest and hand over instead to a guest blogger. Clementine is here to tell you about a recent sexual encounter with a guy… and how that encounter sparked fantasies about someone completely different. No prizes for guessing which of the very specific lines in her piece press my ‘submissive lust’ buttons…

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