For a long time I’ve had a discomfort with the way that sex is often carved out and set aside from the rest of any given story. Whether it’s people complaining about how ‘unnecessary’ sex scenes are in movies, or books which get dismissed as trashy just because the characters have the temerity to fuck, I find the way sex is treated in media both frustrating and fascinating. I’d never really been able to articulate the root of this discomfort, but when LJ Amber got in touch with this week’s guest blog, I suddenly got it. They argue the case for sex in stories with such power and clarity – I am so grateful to them for sharing their perspective, and I agree so wholeheartedly with their point. LJ Amber’s debut novel – Song of the Wild Knight – is coming out next week (29th Feb), so please do check that out and share this post if you agree. Here’s to sex in stories, and the beautiful stories we tell through sex.

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I’m so pleased to welcome Violet Grey (@v_greyauthor) back as a guest blogger today. In previous posts she’s done sterling work shattering the idea that women can’t be submissive feminists, tackling the headlines about millennials not having enough sex, and sharing extremely hot erotica about being humiliated and used. Today, she’s here to teach us about a cinematic trope that really pisses her off. As a bisexual woman, she is sick of seeing LGBTQ+ characters routinely killed off, so she is here with a message for screenwriters: don’t bury your gays.

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If you’ve been following developments, a couple of weeks ago I wrote about Fleabag’s priest and the art of longing. I wallowed a little in the horny joy of seeing two people who really want each other try desperately not to want each other. Today I’m screeching into a whole new lane, thanks to some discussion that’s come up on my Twitter feed: let’s talk about whether the priest is abusive.

The following post contains spoilers for Fleabag, so if you want to watch it check it out on BBC iPlayer before you read on. 

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After he’s come, he likes to stay inside me. Chatting and whispering and feeling the post-fuck squeezes of my cunt when I giggle. I used to think this was rom-com bullshit – too cheesy and cute for me to bear. But fuck it, it makes him happy, so it’s crept into my repertoire – this post-fuck clinch with him inside me and me enveloping his cock. It’s one of a number of things that don’t tend to happen in porn.

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Are you one of those people who comments ‘why is this news?’ under every article you don’t like on the internet? Many find you irritating, but I am here to give you a task for which the world will – eventually – thank you. I’d like you to bring your rage, your keyboards, and your frustration to a specific type of article: exposés of people who get caught fucking on CCTV.

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