Tag Archives: friendship
Lessons learned in 2021: life, lust and loneliness
This post is just a random collection of lessons I learned in 2021, and if I’m honest it’s also partly a vehicle for me to share with you some of my favourite posts and images from the past year. I’m extremely lucky to get to work with Stuart Taylor, who draws fresh new art each week which brings this blog to life in ways that are not only extremely fucking sexy (here’s my favourite hot image from the year – unngh) but also cute and funny (here’s my favourite cute/funny one!). The image that illustrates this post, by the way, comes from one of the things I most enjoyed writing this year: an ode to the walk of shame. Anyway. The end of December is a good time for taking stock of what you’ve learned in the last year, for for what it’s worth here are some of my lessons from 2021.
Please help yourself to this virtual hug
Quite a few of us right now are feeling anxious and down. I was very much wrapped in that feeling recently when a friend of mine sent me a virtual hug. It made my heart ache because what I wanted was to hold him – squeeze him really tightly and properly extract every drop of reassurance and comfort from that hug. But picturing that kind of hug weirdly did make me feel a little bit better. So I thought I’d have a crack at doing for hugs what I sometimes do with more erotic topics, and write it in the kind of detail that might help you feel it, if you’d like to. Here’s a virtual hug to which you’re welcome to help yourself, or pass on to a friend who might need one.
Hear ye, hear ye: some texts I sent after I got laid
A selection of text messages I sent a while ago to spread some important news (I got laid).
Guest blog: Skin hunger – yearning in the darkness
Today’s guest blog got me so fucking horny. I’m not going to give it a much longer intro than that, but when this week’s guest blogger – Jocket – sent it through to me I was very annoyed that there were people in my house so I couldn’t immediately go and wank. It’s about skin hunger, and lust, and not making eye contact. Yearning and aching and relief. I adore it.
I don’t pack what I cannot carry alone / Big Strong Girl
When I move in, it takes a couple of days before I can get my bearings. Before I can survey my domain and think ‘fuck yeah. I am queen of this.’ When I move in, it takes a couple of days before my heart stops racing like it’s trying to escape from my chest. Before I stop thinking ‘shit. What the fuck have I done.’