Sometimes – very rarely – I will meet a man so filthy that within five minutes I am dreaming of the bad things I want to do to him. That kind of lust is a gutpunch – an instant hit of horn that has me weak and drooling. But that kind is not as common, or as real to me, as lust that grows slowly.

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I used to yo-yo break up with my ex-ex. Number eight. The guy I met at university and loved for many years (whose dark dark eyes and devious filth you can read about in my first book if you’re interested). We had our problems, but we also had our passion. Long, tortured silences in the middle of arguments that would stretch on for what felt like hours, while each of us rummaged in our equally-wordy minds for the perfect phrase that would lift the blanket of sadness. But words can’t always do the work: sometimes, most times, the physical yearning would beat our mouths to the punch, and one of us would reach out to touch the other. That touch would set us both on fire, then we’d fuck like the fucking would fix it.

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Back when I was dating, in the times Before Him, a mate used to sometimes ask the question: “is he a friend? Or a Good Friend?” Good friend – that’s how we discerned them. The boys I was fucking from the boys I was not. I’m gonna tell you now about one of my Good Friends.

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This stunning guest blog, by @nookysemper, came out of an incredible thread she wrote a while ago which appealed strongly to my inner pervert, who loves the sexy noises people make when they’re horny. When she approached me to offer a guest blog, I asked if she could elaborate on that delightful ode to sexy noises, and voilà! Here’s her gorgeous post…

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It’s really easy to talk about how sexy you are when you do stuff. When you perform delicate tasks with precision, or say things that make me melt. And logic might dictate that it’s harder to see why you’re sexy when you do absolutely fuck all, but that isn’t always the case.

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