We’re chatting about fucking, and all the bucket list sex we’d like to have. Recently we’ve been trying to plan more kinky sex, so this sort of stuff is occupying our thoughts, but it’s hard to think of anything enticing yet possible: we’re pretty good at ticking new sordid kinks off the second they cross our filthy minds, so most of the fucking we want to do has already been done. I ponder the issue for a while before suddenly it hits me. There’s one really significant thing that I’ve never done with this particular guy: break up.

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Places can have a really special resonance in our lives. When I travel around my hometown, I can’t help but remember different locations by the sexy things I used to do there. Sometimes the simple act of visiting a particular place is enough to bring back a flood of memories. And often, just reading about the resonance certain places have for other people is enough to send me off on a mental journey through all the places I once loved and fucked. This week’s guest blog, by Lauren, is a gorgeous story about exactly this, and it made me cry.

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Kinky sex very rarely just ‘happens.’ It takes planning and preparation and time and conversation and all that other stuff. Even in a relationship where you know you’re both keen to do it, it can be weirdly difficult to set aside time to turn off Netflix and indulge in the kind of fucking you can reminisce about for weeks to come. Recently someone asked me for some tips on how to plan and initiate kinky sex, so for what it’s worth, here’s how I make sure I’ve got a regular serving of dick in my diary.

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This week’s guest blog is a celebration of my favourite topic: wanking. Danielle H is here to smash a few bizarre notions about masturbating while in a relationship, and explain how wanking – and talking openly about it – brought her closer to her husband. Read it, nod vigorously, share it, then have a wank.

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I haven’t had sex for over three weeks. I can’t remember the last time I did, either. Not the position or the length or the time of day, or even whether I came. Maybe we started with a soft blow job. Perhaps it began with his hands down my knickers or me begging him to watch porn and touch himself for me. I can’t remember when I last had sex, or how. And now I’m wondering: what if I never had sex again?

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