A whole bunch of things change as we get older: some of us get more cynical, a bit lazy, more likely to scowl than smile if we’re invited to a birthday party. Other people aren’t me, and they actually get more enthusiastic about things as they age. But while I frequently lament the fact that I don’t have the same attitude I had when I was eighteen, one of the things I rarely consider is the way my body’s changing as I get older.

Recently Valery North wrote a blog post about sex toys and ageing that got me thinking much harder about it. Partly because it’s hot (and I really want the gag that features in this post), but mainly because it covers something that I don’t think I’d considered before. I’d love your thoughts on it – are there toys which used to work for you but don’t any more (or which you used to struggle with but now you love)? I think there’s a tendency to believe that our sexual needs are fixed at a certain point, and we’ll be the same forever. But, as Valery’s post shows, we’re probably much more complicated than that…

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I like the feeling of come hitting my skin.

I particularly like the feeling of it squirting hard against one of my nipples as he presses the tip of his cock against me.

It’s not just the force and power of the liquid, but the accompanying twitches of his dick. Being able to squeeze it tight in my hand and feeling the rush of liquid hammering along the shaft.

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He sent me a picture of it once – swollen, bright red, and leaking a fat, shiny drop of pre-come. Skin so taut I could tell he’d been edging, even if he hadn’t told me. Seven days’ worth, if I remember correctly. Seven days of edging – touching it, stroking it, playing gently enough that he wouldn’t quite climax. Until the whole thing ached and he had to go to extreme lengths to get settled down before he had to leave the house. Digging fingernails into his thighs, cold water, that kind of thing…

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“Don’t you fucking dare come,” he says, with a growling, horny tone and the power to make me do it. Holding a wand toy right tight and hard against my clit, cock firmly in place, pulsing against the walls of my cunt, and giving me something to grip down on as I try to fight the waves of unavoidable orgasm.

Sometimes the sexiest thing in the world is being ordered to refrain from something that you know is inevitable. The strain of having to bite your lip, tense your muscles, arch yourself away from the source of pleasure so as to hold something back for just a few seconds? Amazing.

But not always.

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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…

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