Tag Archives: masturbation
Self bondage with tight corsets
Sometimes, when I’m on my own, I do a simple form of self bondage: I put on a corset. One of those rigid, steel-boned ones that I can do up so tight it takes my breath away. One that I can feel squashing my tits into my chest and which – when I try to sit down – digs into my hips and makes me feel trapped.
Guest blog: dealing with sexual frustration
About three minutes after I tweet one of my filthy blogs, I’ll usually get a DM, email or reply saying “thanks a fucking bunch, GOTN, I just read that on the bus.” Sorry about that, commuters – while I try my best to keep the timings of the dirtier posts to those bits of the day when most people aren’t at work, it’s inevitable that – with Twitter and Facebook and all the things that ping through to your phone – most of us will get horny at inopportune moments.
This week’s guest blog is from just such a guy, and one of the reasons I love it is because it captures that exact feeling of ‘oh God I need to come right this minute and I can’t.’ While I can’t pretend I suffer from the same degree of sexual frustration, I can certainly empathise – and I suspect many of you do too. So read, enjoy, and then let me know if you’ve found any ingenious hiding places to have a quick one to calm the nerves…
The lament of the sexually frustrated…
When I read Girl on the Net’s column, I revel in the joyful atmosphere of sexual freedom, honesty and opportunity. But it’s not all saucy happy funtimes, because although reading her site gives me the massive and righteous horn every time, I’m almost never in a situation where I can do something about it.
Her book lies half-read on my Kindle, the screen metaphorically stained not with the ultraviolet evidence of excited DNA, but with the sweaty misery of tube-ride blue-balls and the anguished tears of tossing (not like that) impotently next to a light-sleeping partner.
And of course it’s not just GotN who’s responsible for inopportune arousal. Chemistry lends a hand, raising testosterone levels first thing every day, and just the act of turning over in bed, or pulling on a pair of pants, can provide friction that, if not dealt with, causes eye-rolling distraction until some mundane task that nevertheless requires concentration removes the physical need. Or I sneak to the bathroom for a speedy one off the wrist.
So it’s clear that the baby Jesus wants us to be getting it on before the sun even gets close to the yardarm. Heh, “yardarm”. But then the baby Jesus never had a baby of his own. Mornings no longer belong to either of you (or even to your left hand), but to the crapping, moaning thing that needs feeding, wiping and reading the same bloody book eight times in a row.
Dreams should be the perfect place to let off steam sexually, right? My god, if I were one of the lucky few who could lucid dream, I’d wake up exhausted every morning after a long night fulfilling every erotic fantasy I’ve ever had and several I thought might make a nice change. But no. Even worse, when I do have a hot dream, my subconscious (usually) wags a scolding finger and reminds me I’m in a monogamous relationship.
Location is another big factor in the unwelcome stiffness stakes. Unlike some people, I seldom get actively frisky on the train or the bus, but when my mind is set off in that direction there’s no delicious sense of naughtiness or anticipation, just a frustration that whatever is stimulating me, I can absolutely guarantee I won’t be fucking it.
Work has more potential, if only because I figured out how to lock the other cubicle door even when I’m not in it, thereby giving my colleagues no reason to hang around in the loos. It’s usually a release-type situation, rather than something to be savoured, though sometimes – and they are a bit glorious – it’s a 2 or 3 times a day thing. The exception to this limitation – and I don’t know if this happens to everyone or if it’s just a superpower of mine – is when I’m hungover. I’d love to know the physiological mechanism behind it, but when hungover I can more or less have as many orgasms as I like without the fundamental drive dissipating as it normally does. Silver linings, eh? Though on the down side, I invariably don’t look great, definitely don’t smell great, and if she’s had a skinful too then no amount of pleading or prodding is going to get me what I (repeatedly) want.
Of course, it’s not all doom and gloomily rearranging my privates on the 38. There are times when the stars and schedules align, and I know nothing will interrupt me until either I’m utterly sated or the dishwasher needs emptying. Woody Allen got it right (not words you hear often these days) in “Annie Hall” (mmm, ’70s Diane Keaton, I’ll be in my bunk, etc.): “don’t knock masturbation, it’s sex with someone I love”.
What all the above does tend to mean is that when I do get time to myself, I spend a lot more of it on self-abuse than, say, doing an open university course, playing squash or learning Flemish. But I’ve long since come to terms with this outcome, because it’s fucking great, regardless of whether or not I’m misunderstood in Oostende.
The gent who wrote this blog post has donated his guest blog payment to the next person, so the next accepted guest blog submission will get £20 instead of the usual tenner. If you have an idea for one, check out the guest blog page and get in touch!
I want him to touch me while I sleep
A confession: sometimes I pretend to be asleep. He knows I’m pretending, and I know he knows I’m pretending, but as I breathe softly and try not to move, I’m pretending to be asleep.
I love to lie still and wait for him to come to bed. To slip naked under the covers and squash up to me. I love feeling his dick go from flaccid to solid as he rests it in the crack of my arse.
Best of all I love his hands. Tentative strokes at first – easing softly from a hug to a grope, building to very gentle pinches of my nipples. Like he’s trying very hard not to wake me up. Like he just needs to feel the texture of my skin, or squeeze the curve of my hips.
Like all he wants is to touch me.
I breathe in and out, trying to measure the movements and sounds so that my fake sleep remains convincing. His hands wander further, and he gets rougher in his movements. He knows what I’m waiting for, and he sighs with open lust as he pushes his cock up against my arse.
Grinding, squashing, pushing it against me, before he pulls away and grips it with his right hand.
His touches get more urgent. As he rubs himself slowly, his other hand wanders all over me – stroking me, grabbing my arse, using his fingers to push the thin fabric of my knickers deep into my crotch. Sometimes he stops, licks his fingers, then puts his hand back, this time pushing the fabric to one side so he can work them in further. All the time gripping the shaft of his dick and rubbing himself closer to orgasm.
I shift slightly, just the tiniest movement as if I’m stirring in my sleep, and he takes the opportunity to flip me over. With his left hand, he pulls at my shoulder until I’ve rolled onto my back, then his greedy hands are back again – pawing at my chest. His left hand gripping one of my tits while the bed shakes with the effort of vigorously rubbing his cock.
Lying there as still as I can, my cunt taut and aching with need, I suppress the desire to fuck him – to ‘wake up’ and turn over and slide neatly down the shaft of his dick. I want to do that, but what I want more is to lie in the stillness, hearing the shuffling and gasping and feeling the sheer, objectifying need of him. This one thing – this gulping, horny, compulsive desire to grab and swallow me up – is the single unifying feature of all the best sex I’ve ever had.
That lust. That desire. Those greedy, greedy hands.
I can hear his breathing getting faster. The little ‘mmm’s and ‘ungh’s that I imagine him making when I’m not there. His movements get faster too. Rubbing himself angrily and squeezing me tightly. He dips his head to suck hard on one of my nipples, grunting lustfully as if the only thing that will sate him is my body.
And it does.
In one quick movement he kneels up. With one hand still firmly gripping me – pinching a nipple with all the force he held back on earlier on, he leans over my still body. A short grunt, a sigh, and the lashing jets of spunk hitting my chest, my neck, my face.
As he lies back down, he idly rubs the liquid into my skin as it cools, then rolls over and settles down. With my clit throbbing and my knickers wet, it takes me another hour to get to sleep.
Note: The idea that he might touch me while I sleep naturally raises some questions around consent, so hopefully this note will answer them. There are two ways my partner and I deal with consent around sleep sex:
Firstly, I make it fairly obvious when I want this stuff to happen: I lie in a very specific position – on my stomach, one leg straight and the other bent to the side, giving him easy access to the crotch of my knickers and my dripping wet cunt.
Secondly, on the very few occasions when I actually am asleep and he hasn’t realised, I either wake up utterly drenched with arousal, and assume the position to encourage him to continue, or I wake up irritable and I growl, in which case he stops and wanders off to the living room.I shouldn’t need to say this, but when I don’t I get comments from people saying ‘oh my god you’re encouraging people to just go ahead and do this’. I’m pretty confident that no one is going to read something like this and take it to mean that all women want to be touched up while they’re asleep, but this note is here just in case you think they might be. So, yeah. If you have sexy, greedy hands, don’t fuck things up by using them when they’re not wanted.
How to dominate a man – sexy ideas from an eager amateur
How the hell do I dominate a man? If your partner has any kind of submissive tendency, and if – like me – you’re enthusiastic yet clumsy when it comes to wielding a whip and calling someone a ‘filthy puppy’, at some point you may have heard the two most terrifying words in the English language:
“Surprise me.”
On the most popular sex toys (and a sex toy competition)
Brace yourselves, I’m doing a special thing. Long time readers will know that for the last few months the fantastic Bondara has been supporting me. This has helped pay for hosting and domain stuff, pass a bit of money on to guest bloggers, and hire an amazing illustrator to create pretty images for some of my posts. To say thanks to Bondara and to you for your support, I’m running a sex toy competition to give away a £100 shopping spree at Bondara. You can buy anything – whether you want to wear it, smear it all over yourself, or turn it on and let it buzz deliciously against your sensitive bits. When you get to the bottom of this post, there’s a widget that you can use to enter the competition.
So what’s this post about? Well, I don’t really do toy reviews, but I wanted to do something that gives a bit of an insight into sex blogging, and also appeals to my nerdier sensibilities. So I’ve done some very top-level analysis of the kind of toys people buy via my site. A sort of ‘if you like my blog, you might like some of this stuff too’ – like Amazon does with books, but for fucktoys. The following graphs have been created using anonymised data based on purchases at Bondara via my website.
Which sex toys are the most popular?
I had a look at the percentage of toys sold for different genital uses. As you can see, my readers are generally a big fan of arses, which makes sense given the number of posts I’ve written about butt plugs. Penis and vagina toys sold equally, which I am pleased with, because it shows a delightful sex toy equality in the discerning audience of this blog.
Which sex products are the most popular?
Of course, it’s not just about things you put in/on/up yourself – there are other types of products too. While toys are by far and away the winner, plenty of people have been stocking up on bondage equipment, underwear and accessories too. For this, ‘accessories’ includes things like condoms and lube, as well as sex toy cleaners and things.
Sex toy sales by day of the week
Statisticians, please shield your eyes, because this one’s a fucking mess. I don’t think the data was significant enough to make a guess on the day that sales were most likely – apart from anything else, my traffic’s always higher on Sundays, Wednesdays or Fridays when I post. Still, in case you’re interested, it looks like Friday is officially the least sexy day, with Wednesdays and weekends being far more popular.
What are the most popular sex products?
I’d hoped that at least one person would have bought the fucking machine that I have on my sex toy wish list. Sadly not, but if you’re after something new, and you fancy following in the footsteps of other readers, here are some of the most popular products (or product categories) from the last three months:
– Cock rings. A solid and admirable choice.
– Male masturbators. I’m not surprised these are near the top of the list because I am obsessed with them – Tenga eggs came through as a strong favourite, which is handy because I have recently got the hang of using them without breaking them due to overenthusiastic wanking.
– Butt plugs. Again, solid choice,and I hope these hot butt-plug stories helped some people make their decision.
– Coquette knickers. I am 100% sure this came about as a result of this post about the sexiest types of knickers.
– Jessica rabbit vibrator. A classic. Also very cheap. I am impressed with your money-saving expertise.
Sex toy competition – win a £100 Bondara shopping spree!
Now on to the exciting bit – all you need to do is enter the competition using the magical widget below, and you’ll be entered into a draw. The comp will run for exactly two weeks – until midday (UK time) on the 11th of August, with the winner chosen the next day. If you win, you can spend £100 on whatever you like from Bondara. I’m afraid you have to be UK resident and over 18 to take part, but if this is popular, I’ll see if I can run something separate for US-based people so you can have sexy things too.
Best of luck, and thank you again for all your support.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
[Note from GOTN – I have never run a competition like this before, and in all probability I am a bit incompetent at it. I’ve tried to make it so there are plenty of easy ways to enter, but if you have any feedback or you’re not sure how to use it please drop me an email]