Tag Archives: illustrated
The topless snowball fight
Hovering near the top of my ‘missed opportunities’ list, somewhere just behind ‘never getting round to that gangbang dinner party’ is a snowy afternoon in the early noughties.
Remember that time in your life when you were most carefree? Happiest? Most content in your body and intensely, hornily desperate to use it? Well, mine was around about then. Just before I’d started shagging, but long after I’d discovered boys. My weekends and evenings were spent huddled in whispering, weed-smoking, cider-swilling groups, competing with each other to contrive more imaginative ways we could get touched up by our equally-horny peers.
I miss those times.
Where are all the pervy women?
One of the most common questions I am asked (and I say this not to boast but to point out just how much disappointment I could unleash if people found out who I am) is “where can I meet a girl like you?”
This question is usually asked by straight men, who are keen to go to a bar, hook up with someone, fuck her face, then drink a few pints with her before getting ready for round two. Sadly when people ask ‘where can I meet a girl like you?’ I inevitably have to reply: you can’t.
Sorry. I’m not a figment of your imagination as such, but I’m certainly a figment of my own selective storytelling. You can meet me in a bar if you stumble into the right Wetherspoons at the dirty back end of a Friday night, but I won’t look just like this, or talk like this, or engage in this kind of pervy behaviour while you’re sipping your pint.
I’ll be wearing jeans and a jumper with holes in. I might drink and swear and shoot daggers at people who make sexist jokes, but I’ll also be a bit shy and awkward. I might forget your name, or flirt with you in a manner so clumsy it’s a gigantic turn-off. If you’re lucky, I might even sneak off to the toilet to be sick, before ducking out the side-door to avoid awkward goodbyes before I stumble onto the night bus.
So, the short answer is: you will never ever meet a woman who is exactly like a sex blogger, because sex bloggers are – as everyone is online to a certain extent – curated versions of our incompetent, real-life selves. But that’s OK, because that’s not really the question these guys are asking. What they’re usually asking is this:
The 12 sex blog search terms of Christmas
If you want to find out just how interesting people can be, and just how many people share similar hot fantasies, you could look in worse places than a sex blog’s search bucket. People type all manner of excellent things into Google and eventually end up at my site – from ‘100 girl orgy’ to ‘my wife fucking a butternut squash.’
So I thought I’d do a bit of a meta-post looking at some of the cooler ones, and given that it’s nearly Christmas I’ve given them a festive theme. I know, right? If I shoehorn any more topical relevance into this post they’ll feature it on Sky News.
I’m obliged to do something Christmassy, though, and given that I’ve already written a Christmas gift guide, I thought I’d combine my love of Google Analytics and my desire for festive singalongs, and replace the lyrics to ’12 days of Christmas’ with sex blog search terms people have used over the last year. Sing it in your head to the tune or all my work will have been wasted.
BDSM switching is hot: here’s my favourite way to do it
At my first ever munch about – oooh, a million years ago now – the first question people asked was: “are you a top or a bottom?” As we mingled with a bunch of exceptionally friendly people, dressed in anything from jeans and t-shirt to ropework and pants, everyone wanted to know:
“Top or bottom?”
“Domme or sub?”
What are you?
For want of a better word, we both said ‘switch.’ Having done our research (read: furiously masturbated to a number of blog posts and forum debates) we figured that our ‘whatever we fancy at the time’ attitude probably best fit into that category. Neither of us was a particularly dominant person, nor were either of us comfortable being cast in the role of submissive, nervous that it would prevent us from having the same kind of playful back-and-forth that was a staple of our usual nights out.
Kinda silly, really, but we were young, and hadn’t a sodding clue what we were doing.
The winner of the orgasm picture competition…
What happens when you ask people to send in a visual representation of their orgasm? Awesome things. A month or so ago, after Stuart Taylor had drawn a stunning representation of an orgasm for an old blog post of mine, I asked people to have a go at representing their own. The aim was to show the breadth of different orgasmic experience and find some beautiful visual depictions of something that’s really hard to describe.
A huge thanks to everyone who entered – the pictures covered a huge range of experience – beautiful, sexy, evocative, fun, and everything in between. You can see all of the orgasm competition entries here. Below are the five finalists, as chosen by the public vote, and then my gang of awesome judges helped me to pick the overall winner. After a lot of deliberation (it was really tricky to choose, as there were so many fantastic images), we finally chose a winner…