Sometimes I want to arouse you. Sometimes I want to rant at you. I always want to entertain you. But occasionally I want to disgust you.

Partly because I think it’s important to highlight the fucking weird things we all do sometimes, because it makes everyone else feel a bit less weird about themselves. Partly because we’re constantly – constantly – told that experimenting with our bodies or enjoying them is dirty and bad and wrong (especially if we’re women).

But mostly because so much of what we think about sex is based on knee-jerk reactions, and when our knee-jerk reaction is one of disgust it’s worth examining why we feel disgusted. Is there a rational reason for it? Or is it, like that dildo made from human ashes, just something we condemn because our gut tells us we should?

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I will never not be fascinated by jizz. It’s probably the topic I’ve covered most often here – from the best places to jizz to the weird questions I’ve asked about it.

Perhaps it’s because I can’t produce it myself, or because I sense a similar fascination in guys – that agony of choice when you decide where to do it, and how, and when.

But let’s talk about the only frustration I have with spunk: that there is never – can never be – enough.

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This week’s guest blogger is Katrina England – she writes erotica (which is available on Amazon) and she’s here to talk to you about something I’ve waxed lyrical about before – spunk. Spaff, cum, come, jizz, or whatever you want to call it: if you’re a fan then you’ll love Katrina’s guest blog, in which she explains – in detail – why she has a cum fetish…

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I sometimes struggle with getting head – finding it hard to get out of my comfort zone when I don’t feel any element of my own submission. But when he tells me ‘I want to taste you,’ it is not submissive. He’s not begging me for a lick that I may or may not deign to give him: he’s issuing a command. In the same way as he’s issuing a command if he tells me ‘bend over’ or ‘take off your knickers’ or – holy fuck this happened recently and it still makes me so horny I squirm – ‘squeeze that cock.’ Uttered in a breathless rush just before the grunt as he comes.

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It took me a long time to work out what subspace really was. When I first started going to kink events I heard so much chat about it – how people would go spacey and woozy during a beating, on a blissed-out high caused by the pain. How afterwards, their dominant would wrap them in blankets and bring them coffee or Coke, and they’d recover slowly, having the fuzzy feeling kissed and stroked away by wet lips and warm hands.

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