Tag Archives: porn
Two things: Doxy comp and McVities girls’ night in
Woo! Start of the week! That means you get to throw all last week’s mistakes into the bin and be reborn as a better person. That’s what I like to think, at any rate. In ‘two things‘ this week we’re starting with the good stuff: a competition in which you can win a Doxy die cast, as well as £100 to spend on more amazing sexy things. Then we’ll move on to something that annoyed me: the McVities ‘girls’ night in’ advert.
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The porn debate: false balance in sex reporting
Let’s talk about false balance in sex reporting, specifically in regards to the porn debate. The way that the question ‘is porn actually damaging our brains?’ is so often presented as a roughly 50/50 argument. On one side: people like me who love porn (or people who make it) bleating sadly about the loss of our livelihoods/hobbies. On the other side: brave crusaders for truth who are opening our eyes to the dangers with their shocking stats and stories of addiction.
Except – obviously – it’s a bit more complicated than that
Two things: relationship listicles + virtual reality porn
Two things this week, to power you through Monday with a combination of fun and frustration. This week we’re looking at relationship listicles, and why they’re about as helpful for your relationship as those quizzes they used to print in Just Seventeen magazine, and then some excellent news about virtual reality porn.
Watching porn with him
I’m rarely guilty of lying – at least intentionally. While I probably fuck up a fair few of my stories, and invent dialogue where I forgot the actual words, I lack the imagination to tell a properly whopping lie. But I am definitely guilty of editing stories depending on the audience – usually when I’m talking about watching porn with a partner.
Erotic fiction: the woman behind the porn cinema
This is a fantasy about a porn cinema that I wrote ages ago, for reasons I can’t remember. I like things that are simultaneously sexy and grotesque – like the blow job/dripping sandwich fantasy. That’s my way of saying the following story might be weird. And maybe disturbing. And creepily voyeuristic. Alternatively it might not be, and the fact I’ve waited six months to publish it has been a complete waste of my mental energy.
If you asked me to write my own future, I would write the following story. Then you’d wish you’d never asked, and I’d have to burn it, and we probably wouldn’t be friends any more because the whole thing would get awkward.
Anyway. Some erotic fiction. Or a disturbing vision of my distant future. Don’t judge me. Let’s go.