For as long as I can remember, I have yearned for a partner. Even when I was too young to understand sex or romance, I pursued boys. With a relentless, aching need. I’m sure some of them could sense it radiating out of me. As a child, when a brand new boy would turn up in whatever context – playing with my siblings and I on holiday, or transferring into my class from another school – my whole being would suddenly snap into focus, laser-targeted on whether or not this one might be a possibility. As a teenager, I was obsessed with the idea of having a boyfriend, and although there was one boy I was wildly in love with, I knew deep in my heart that any boy would do. I just wanted to be loved. When I finally did secure a boyfriend – even though he was entirely unsuited to me – there was a powerful feeling of relief and accomplishment. I’ve done it! I’ve got one! I am wanted! Go me! I yearn for a partner, I always have done. I just really really want to be loved.

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Regular readers will know that I am a sucker for stories about long-term relationships where sex is a shared joy. I wrote about this a few years ago, and the longing I have for someone I can be with long term, who embarks on sex as a playful adventure. While I tear myself to pieces in the hunt for that, it’s wonderful to hear stories from people who have found their own ways to navigate intimacy in long-term relationships, especially if they’re willing to share the ups and downs of their journey. So I’m delighted to welcome Sean Owen, who writes about intimacy, curiosity and the evolution of long term love and has been with his wife Sophie for 24 years, to do exactly that.

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This deliciously hot erotic story is written and read by Tabitha Rayne. Catch up on Part 1 here, then click ‘play’ to hear Tabitha read you the next part of this incredibly hot story. 

Driving home, worn out, used and well and truly fucked, we float along on that soporific plane of satisfaction, occasionally catching each other’s eye in the rearview mirror. Some might imagine our trip as a wholesome date between a long married couple, where others might picture a truly debauched night of utter sexual chicanery. I like to think that most people would choose the latter… though I suspect…

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Today’s guest blog is something a little different, because I really want to introduce you to the fabulous person behind The Pleasure Garden – an awesome ethical sex toy shop that sponsors my website. If you’d like to buy stuff you can use the code GOTN10 for 10% off anything they stock, but I’m not trying to actively sell you anything here, I just wanted to introduce you to someone cool: Francesca Cross, who runs it. I have written about a number of fantastic Pleasure Garden products over the years, from restraints kits to g-spot vibes, and door cuffs to doppelganger dicks. And whenever I have a catch-up with Francesca to talk about what I could review next, we always end up in a fascinating sidebar about the challenges involved in trying to carve an ethical path through the adult industry: how to improve accessibility, how to make sure the toys in stock are body safe, how to write copy for websites in a way that is inclusive and never shaming. I thought you lot might like to see a glimpse behind the scenes, and meet someone awesome who is working to do exactly that. So I interviewed Francesca! Grab a cup of tea and learn about running an ethical sex toy shop in the UK…

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This deliciously hot erotic story is written and read by Tabitha Rayne. Note: in fantasy we can do things we wouldn’t in real life. Combining driving and sex is one of them. This is a dangerous activity and you should not do it . Obviously do wank about it though because this story is hot as hell.

He thinks we don’t do it enough. And by it, you know I mean sex. Bonking. Shagging. The glue that sets our relationship apart from all the other relationships in our lives. It’s true. We don’t. He might think we don’t, but I know we don’t. You know how it goes, a houseful of kids, pets, oldies, responsibilities, by the time we flop exhausted on to the sofa, barely enough energy to agree on a boxset, we’re fucked. And not in a good way.

So once every two months, I book us a very expensive room in a very expensive hotel. A different one every time. Some are sexier than others, but ALL are sexier than our own shabby messy bedroom, which is certainly not conducive to seduction in any form. How we ended up with all these damn kids is anyone’s guess.

So it’s time.

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