Note: this post will seem screamingly self-indulgent unless you care about the minutiae of my life. It’s a piece about my hopeful heart, and some behind-the-scenes updates from the last couple of months. If you like that sort of thing, you’ll like this. If you don’t, please go read the porn instead for now, and pop back on Sunday for something more fun than navelgazing.

A long time ago, one of my Patreons asked me: do you ever get embarrassed? It’s a question I’ve been thinking on for at least two years, and as I ponder it I’ve written three or four different answers that are all stuck in draft. The short answer is yes, I sometimes get embarrassed. For instance if I write something clumsy that doesn’t do justice to the person who inspired it, or if I say something that, on reflection, I realise is ignorant or hurtful. But the main things I write on the blog – sex stories, love stories, earnest posts about friendship and connection – are not a source of embarrassment no matter how intimate they are, or how silly they might make me seem to an audience of strangers. I don’t think I’m ever truly embarrassed about telling you the things that bring me joy. I have a hopeful heart, and I want to fill it with love and sex and pleasure and fucking fun. Then when it’s full of all these things I like to let that joy spill out in public. I had an amazing shag; I fell in love with a boy; I came up with a cool new story to wank to… whatever.

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Sometimes I write posts to turn you on, and sometimes I write them so I can hop up on my soapbox and have a rant. In fact, I’m due to write a nice in-depth rant about fantasies off the back of the last two horny posts – a woman having a wank part 1 and part 2. But today I’m feeling soft and chill, and I don’t feel like getting into complex stuff. Today I am just writing because there’s a fun story I’ve been meaning to share for a while, and I love wallowing in nostalgia – especially nostalgia about times when I was blissfully happy and loved-up. I think the following is such a great date idea that other people might want to steal it and try it for themselves. This is the coolest date I went on with my Hot Punk Guy, and with some slight adaptations to personalise the schedule, it could be the best date you go on as well.

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This is a story about a woman having a wank. I know I’ve already told you one story about a woman having a wank, but this one’s very different. Imagine, please, a woman lying on top of the duvet on her bed, sometime around midday, curtains closed so she doesn’t shock the neighbours, rifling through her memory banks for a sexy idea that’ll help her get to a quick orgasm before she has to sit back down at her desk. She settles on something that fits the mood, so brings her fingertips to her mouth – spitting on them gently so as to start warming up her clit.

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The sad thing happens on Monday morning. But there were lots of sad things that laid the path to it, so perhaps it’s not surprising that initially I’m just a bit numb. All day I’m braced for the waves of despair to crash. I sit at my desk. I work. I write. Edit some audio porn, upload a bit to Patreon, and wait and wait and wait for the misery to hit.

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I remember very vividly the first sexy daydream I had about a boy. I felt myself growing hot and tense inside before experiencing a release of arousal as the daydream came to climax. Not a real climax, sadly I’ve never had the ability to make myself come just by thinking about the right thing. But the right thoughts can trigger something intense, and this was the first time I’d experienced that intensity: the instant, shocking realisation that my mind could make my body do this thing, purely through the power of imagination. It was way more graphic than the purely cerebral lust I’d felt for guys in the past. When I talk about this feeling on the blog, I often refer to it as that ‘kick in the gut’ of lust. Or the unngh moment. Some fantasies might press a few buttons in your mind, sparking ideas and feelings that you want to follow up later, but these particular sexy dreams and daydreams are on another level: they kick me in the gut. Give me that unngh.

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