Tag Archives: relationships
Bottomless love: T-shirt and no knickers
This story was written based on a suggestion from someone over on Patreon. Come support me there if you’d like to make suggestions for other blog posts, and massive thanks to the person who suggested this topic. The ‘bottomless’ look is very popular in my house, although here we call it ‘top no bottoms’. Or rather, my partner excitedly yells ‘top no bottoms!!’ if I walk into a room wearing a t-shirt and no knickers, and plonk my naked arse onto the sofa. That’s why this one’s written with love as well as horn. Hope you like it.
CSI: Wank – reconstructing his cum shot
The other night, I missed the moment he came. It wasn’t the end of the world, naturally – I miss plenty of his orgasms, because most of them happen when he’s alone. The spaff goes unobserved, as he beats it into a tissue or one of the wank rags I bought for ecological reasons (and also pervy reasons – we’ll get to this in a second). But on this particular occasion, I was a bit sad about missing his cum shot. So he invented a new game for me to play: CSI: Wank.
Men: Did you keep your surname when you got married?
Do me a favour, yeah? Next time a straight couple tells you they’re getting married, would you mind turning to the gentleman in the pairing and asking him: “So… are you planning to keep your surname?” Go on, I dare you. I double-dare you. Ask him, in a cheery tone, whether he plans to take his wife’s name. Watch his reaction, then pop back here and let me know in the comments how that went.
Guest blog: How not to do polyamory
I’ve been honoured to host some fab guest blogs on ethical nonmonogamy over the years – like this guide on how to cultivate compersion or this lovely piece about the realities of open relationships. Often, though, it’s as intriguing to learn from other people’s mistakes as their successes. So just as I’ve tried to write guides on how to be bad in bed before, this week’s guest blogger, Alex, is here to tell you how not to do polyamory. Or in his own words…
Whip me, fuck me, distract me
When he asked me what I wanted, as my reward for winning the game, I think he expected me to demand pleasure. Orgasms, delivered by hand and vibrator, or his wet lips wrapped round my nipples. Maybe a good, hard fuck bent over the sofa. Instead I asked him for pain. “Whip me,” I told him.
Note, this post makes references to That Fucking Virus and These Weird Times.