There’s an ache that I have not yet told you about On Here. It throbs beneath the surface of my every other need. I have no idea if it’s something I’m legitimately allowed to feel, or if publicly acknowledging it is silly and self-defeating. It isn’t something I can actively chase, and it will definitely scare a few men. But let’s have a go anyway: what I ache for is decades of sex. With the same person. I am up for being open, being polyamorous, whatever relationship structure best fits my own needs and his. But fundamentally, powerfully, deeply, I yearn for long-term intimacy. As my life marches on, I find myself growing colder and colder at the thought of sex with total strangers. These days I dream of a man who I can fuck for decades.

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I’m delighted to welcome Emory Oakley to the guest slot today! Emory is a queer trans man who writes fantastic educational content about gender and sexuality over on his blog. He got in touch with a pitch about dating while trans, specifically about how getting hit on by a gay man validated his trans identity. I’m really honoured that he’s up for sharing his story here, and if you’d like to find out more do click the links to some of the other fantastic pieces he’s written elsewhere on all the details of his journey in learning about how own identity.

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It’s that time of year again! February! The bit just before the 14th when everyone’s telling you to buy sex toys. Instead of just telling you to buy stuff, I am going to share with you some horny ideas for Valentine’s Day, then tell you that if you like those ideas you’re welcome to reward me by giving me good girl points clicking the links and buying cool things from the companies which sponsor this website. There are some amazing companies on the list (porn! Audio porn! Sex toys!), and my horny ideas are all ones you and a partner (or two, or three, or four) can put into practice with (I hope) relatively little effort, and either low cost (all but one are less than £50) or completely free. Don’t say I never treat you right. And even if you’re not in the market to buy, I hope you’ll enjoy these mini porn stories anyway. I had a super horny time writing them.

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Note: this piece tackles some stuff about femininity, womanhood, and ‘worth’. I do not believe that any of the things I say about ‘good girl points’ are true and I don’t encourage you to believe or internalise them. But as with all weird notions, sometimes you have to state it to slate it, so I’m allowing myself to be a bit more open about the dark beliefs that power a lot of my decisions, especially in light of some Twitter discussion I’ve seen about why you shouldn’t just keep trying to be ‘good’ and ‘liked’ all the time. Rest assured I’m working on these things.

The other day, at about 11pm, a guy offered to walk me to the train station. We’d been having a lovely evening together – eating dinner that he’d cooked for me because he knows it’s one of my favourites, watching a weird film that we’d chosen together because he cares about my opinion, then enjoying a teasing blow job because when we started getting horny I specifically requested that he let me be ‘playful’ for a bit. It was fabulous. I felt very content. Very… what’s the word? Very heard. Valued. Appreciated. But when it came time for me to head home, he offered to walk me to the station, and this objectively kind gesture made me deeply uncomfortable.

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It’s delightful when someone pitches me a guest blog idea that has never been covered on the blog before, so when today’s anonymous contributor (who has written beautifully before about butt plugs and prostate orgasms) offered to write about intimate jewellery, I leapt at the chance. The subtle hotness of jewellery that is hidden somewhere no one else can see is incredible, especially when that jewellery has extra-special significance…

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