I always hated the common dating site question: ‘what are your favourite books/films/bands etc?’ It struck me as a bizarre way to help encourage compatibility. Sure, if you’re going to be with someone for a long time you don’t want them to be constantly swapping out your punk rock tunes for dance anthems, but it’s more than possible for people with differing tastes to want to jump each other’s bones. Is there anything more useful I’d have asked?

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“Let’s get some dick in you.”

Storytelling is like sex: so much of it is about the angle. And there are two ways I can tell this dirty story. One ends with a punchline, the other with a perfect climax.

As this is the filthy version, I’ll give it to you quick and hard.

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Let me tell you something about real men: real men cry. They weep giant, fist-sized tears of misery. They collect them in a bucket, which they’ll later use to drown an angry bear.

Pay attention: it’s important. Because just as we’re told that ‘real women’ have curves, so we’re also spun lines about which men count as ‘real’.

Study the signs, remember them. Then burn your laptop lest this fall into enemy hands.

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A few weeks back, I gave the best blow job I’ve ever given. Apparently. I don’t like writing that down so starkly – it’s far easier to talk about how mediocre I am in bed, or how incompetent I am with certain sex toys.

But I’m writing it because the sentence itself will spin round in my head forever. I don’t want anyone to tell me that anything was ‘the best blow job ever’, because I’m primed to root through any compliment until I eventually find a negative. And so this week I’m tortured by this one simple fact:

None of my other blow jobs were as good as that one. 

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The following piece discusses submersion in water, in a BDSM context (well, it’s called ‘underwater blow job’ so you probably know that already). Please don’t read if that’s likely to disturb you. And if you’re thinking you want to do this kind of thing – read up on the risks and discuss in a lot of detail with your partner first. 

“We’ll get you a nose clip.”

That’s not where it started; that’s where it started getting serious. When the desire for water – pressure, fear – grew from a small spark of interest to a roaring fire of obsession.

I wanted him to fuck my face underwater.

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