I told this story briefly, while at the festival last year: ‘I sucked a dick at Glastonbury’, I tweeted, with undertones of ‘achievement unlocked.’ The response was a combination of welcome high fives and entirely unwelcome shame: eww, blow jobs? At a festival?! I hope you used wet wipes first! Some people are so weird. But to each their own. I don’t tell sex stories without knowing that sometimes I’ll press people’s shame buttons. Some people’s instinct to say ‘eww’ when they hear that some random slag got facefucked in a field in Somerset is as natural as my instinct to brag about it in the first place. I sucked a dick at Glastonbury last year. And as I pack my bag for this year, I’ve decided now’s the time to tell that story.

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When I tell my sister this story, she snort-laughs and tells me ‘we really need to do something about the low expectations you have of men.’ I’m front-loading this because I suspect that’s what the man involved might say himself. He used to be quite baffled by how pleased I was when he did little thoughtful things, as if little thoughtful things aren’t worthy of note. As if kindness is incidental, instead of – you know – everything.

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When I saw the fabulous Emilia Romero pop back up on social media after an absence (follow her on Mastodon here!), I was over the moon, and then even more excited when she pitched me this beautiful, vulnerable guest blog. She’s written here before about kink, camming, and what happens when you discover Doxy, and her writing is always so stunningly heartfelt. Today’s post is an exploration of friendship and trust, via the medium of a good friend she met at a survivors’ support group (so note, there will be brief but non-detailed references to rape and sexual assault). It’s so wonderful to have you back, Emilia.

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I’m turning 40 this month. Which feels weird when I write it down like that – in my heart I am (and will always be) nineteen – just on the cusp of adulthood, excited for what it might bring. In reality, I’ve been an adult for longer than I was ever a child. I pay council tax! I have a bad back! I own three different types of spirit level! I wouldn’t normally announce my birthday on the blog, but because this one’s a biggie I thought it might be fun to mark it by throwing a virtual party – support me on Patreon (at any level) and sign up to the Zoom hangout on Sunday 24th March – 6-8pm UK time, though we may well go on longer than that if people want to. I’ll read you a selection of my favourite posts from the last 12.5 years of this blog, and we’ll drink stuff and chat and you can ask me anything you’d like to know about GOTN, the audio project, sex blogging and which of the many many exceptional cocks I’ve ingested over the years is my special absolute favourite. Meanwhile, here’s a random list of 40 things I’ve learned before the age of 40.

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In the moment I broke up with my ex – the moment itself, when I said the words, “I can’t do this any more, I’m so sorry” or whatever it was – I knew that at least one of my friends agreed it was the right decision. She’d sent me an email, the week before, which started with the sentence “I didn’t think you were ready to hear this last year, but now I feel like it’s time…” It was one of the best emails I have ever received. It was kind, caring and helpful. It did not trash my ex or instruct me to break up with him, it just reminded me of the conversations I’d had with her over the last few years, and what those conversations amounted to from her perspective. She held up a mirror to the picture I’d been painting in a way that made me see the image as clearly as she did. To this day, I am grateful to her for sending that email. Without it, my life would look very different today.

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