Regular readers might be aware that I have very strong feelings about sofas. A decent sofa can make all the difference in a romantic or sexual relationship. You need one that’s good for snuggling and fucking, and which will ideally allow you to do both of those things without either permanently staining it or giving yourself neckache. But until recently I hadn’t realised that I need to write the same rant about good beds for fucking and bad beds for fucking. So pull up a duvet, snuggle down, and I will tell you why furniture shops in the UK are ABSOLUTELY SHITE AT anticipating people’s sexual needs.

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This is part two of an exceptionally filthy guest blog sent to me by Justine. In part one of this story, she suffered a ruined orgasm at the hands of her boyfriend. Distracted by a seriously hot fuck, she forgot his order that she should let him know before she came. After coming hard around his cock, she realised she’d broken the rule, and he later exacted punishment in the form of a ruined orgasm: working her up to the brink of orgasm then leaving her panting and frustrated. Read the first half of this ruined orgasm story, then pop back here to see how Justine gets her revenge…

Thanks to the gorgeously-voiced Sarah Jane (@sarahjanedoes), who blogs at Marvelous-Darling.com, this post is now available as audio. Click ‘listen here’ at the top of the page, then head to the audio porn hub to hear more sexy stories read aloud. 

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When I was young, I wore a dog collar. A literal, actual dog collar of the kind you could buy from any old pet shop. Black leather, studded: the kind you’d use if you wanted your dog to look slightly menacing. I desperately wanted my boyfriend to clip a leash through the metal loops and pull my face onto his cock while I sucked him. But he never did.

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How do you go about sharing sexy fantasies? It’s one of the questions people seem to struggle with a lot – as measured both by my inbox and also the sheer volume of advice guides written about broaching the subject with your partner. But one of the things I find fascinating/annoying about the way it’s presented is that it’s often seen as an ‘all or nothing’ thing: that you tell your partner you want to be dominated (with a strap-on and a vigorous pegging, for example), and they either tell you ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ That’s it: a green light or a red one, and then the discussion has ended. I don’t think that’s how it always works.

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I stood on the escalator the other day behind a woman in slightly-too-tight clothes. Her bra straps dug into her shoulders and back, pressing against her flesh. Pinching at her skin. Highlighting the unquestionable solidity – the thereness of her. She was beautiful.

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