There’s always a worry, when you tick something off your sexual bucket list, that this awesome kink you have lusted after for ages won’t quite live up to your expectations. As the time to fuck approaches, your eager desire for filth is tempered by a voice in the back of your head that says ‘will this be as good as I hope?’ ‘Can a spitroast with a fucking machine really be as filthy as the scene I’m playing in my head?’ ‘Can DVP with a sex machine really live up to my horny dreams? The answer to both questions is ‘fuck yes’. The longer answer is below in the form of a hyper-explicit story about the first time we used our new sex machine, and there’ll be a part two story coming hot on its heels…

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You can keep your restaurants and posh jewellery, in my house we’re playing Valentine’s Day sex games. While I’d love to be super aloof and pretend it’s because traditional romance is beneath me, the fact is that my partner and I just really like playing sex games. If offered a romantic candlelit meal, we’d far rather use those candles for something more depraved. Depending on whether it arrives in time, I’m hoping my own Valentine’s Day will be spent getting acquainted with a brand new fuck machine. If it doesn’t arrive in time, no harm done. We’ll probably be doing one of the following things instead…

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You’ve probably heard of the Doxy wand, and Doxy Number 3, and if you’re into ridiculously and intensely powerful, rumbly vibrations the chances are you’ll have one of these beautiful sex toys already. But did you know Doxy butt plugs also exist? Please have a seat (on an inferior butt plug, if you must) and let me yell enthusiastically at you about how great these butt plugs are.

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I’m not a massive fan of getting head. I’ve said it before, and people are occasionally horrified: how can I call myself a feminist if I don’t insist on oral equality? I am a huge fan of giving head: I take egomaniacal pride in being able to suck cock so well that it has my other half whimpering and trembling on the edge of orgasm for the duration of an entire Portishead song. So where’s the reciprocal pleasure? What of the famed ‘orgasm gap’? Surely I, as a feminist, should insist on oral reciprocity? No.

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So far I’ve been silent on the horrorshow that is Goop – Gwyneth Paltrow’s bullshit-engine which advocates wellness ‘treatments’ designed to cure you of your money. She recommends anything from vaginal steaming (argh) to jade eggs, making ludicrous claims about how these things can help you ‘detox’ and generally improve your life. I haven’t bothered with it until now, but my Twitter feed is currently packed with news and snark about ‘Goop Lab’ – her new show where she demonstrates some of the pseudoscience she’s trying to flog you – so I’d feel negligent if I didn’t write something. What’s more, I recently realised this problem isn’t limited to Goop: a sex toy website that I otherwise have a lot of time for has started peddling weird bullshit along with its jade eggs, and it breaks my fucking heart. Let’s start by tackling jade eggs and other cuntstones, and why the dodgy claims about their magical powers aren’t just ‘harmless fun’. I’ll save vaginal steaming for another angry day.

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