Usually when someone emails me and says ‘you absolutely HAVE’ to see this it falls into one of two categories:

1. It’s something I’ve already seen
2. It’s their cock

Occasionally, though, I get a message containing something so sexually unusual and perfectly tailored for me that I have to go for a bit of a lie-down. For about two to three clit-rubbing minutes. Today’s blog is about one of those things, and if – like me – you’re a fan of unusual nerdery and frantic cock-flogging masturbation, then you might want to start taking notes.

Today we’re going to talk about Cock Hero.

Cock Hero is like guitar hero, in that it’s a rythmn game you play, while focusing heavily on beats scrolling across the screen. It’s unlike guitar hero in that you probably don’t want to play it at parties. Here’s the deal, at a very basic level: people create compilations of porn scenes and splice them together with some music – usually cheesy beat-heavy dance. You grab your cock, turn on the video, and beat it one stroke every time the scroll bar tells you to.

Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t tell this any hotter than my friend does…

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What do you do if you have a weird fetish that you think no one else shares? If you get turned on by something that literally cannot exist in real life, where do you find the community, the discussion and the porn that other kinky people use to fulfil their own desires?

If you’ve been reading for a while you’ll know that I have a massive thing for unusual fetishes – I love hearing about kinks and quirks and sexual tastes that fall well outside my own. This week’s guest blogger has a fetish you may not have heard of, as well as a window into an entire subgenre of self-made porn. His post blew me away with the intensely nerdy definitions and classifications which split the genre itself, as well as his honesty and sadness about the reality of loving something that’s rarely ever mentioned.

Over to him…

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“I’m hard because you’re crying.”

Said with sheepish, downturned eyes. He was expecting me to be horrified. Expecting me to tell him he was filthy and disgusting, and that my misery wasn’t cheap porn scene for him to get a boner over. What he – and if I’m honest, I – wasn’t expecting was for a hot pulse of arousal to flood through my stomach and crotch, soaking my knickers and wishing I could muster more tears.

What he didn’t know at the time was that I found his tears equally hot. He’d once told me a story of something he’d done after we broke up, and it filled my head with a vision of him gripping his dick with fury and rubbing hard at it while he thought of me with someone else, salty tears pouring down his cheeks as he got red and horny and sad and miserable.

He introduced me to the idea of a crywank. And he vocalised something I’d have been too shy to put into words: crying can be a massive turn-on.

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If I’ve lubed you up and spread your legs, and held your hips steady while I slide something deep into you, there are plenty of things you can do to let me know you appreciate it. Make that face that’s a cross between surprise and pain, grunt a guttural moan at the back of your throat, or place your hands somewhere on me and squeeze tightly while I move. But when I’m fucking you – whether I’m pegging you with a strap on or sliding a butt plug deep into your ass – there’s one thing I want you to do above all others: push back.

Push.

Back.

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The evening I lost my virginity I lay awake in bed staring at the wall, willing myself to feel special. I assumed that with that magical penis-in-vagina moment, something fundamental about me would change. I couldn’t put my finger on what, exactly – I didn’t expect sparks, or revelations, or for the world to burst into glorious technicolour like it did in the Wizard of Oz. I just thought I’d feel… different.

I didn’t, and looking back at that moment as an adult that’s a blessed relief. Imagine if there really were a significant change bestowed upon someone just because they happened to have completed a particular sex act. If it shone out of them like a traffic light, blinking ‘green’ for ‘has fucked’. It’d be quite disturbing, not to mention really awkward over breakfast with your family.

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