Every year I try to write something about how Valentine’s Day is mostly a bundle of gendered expectation and obligation wrapped in a parcel of guilt. That doesn’t stop it being fun for some people (and nor should it), but hopefully it does help people who feel shit about the whole thing to feel a little less shit and a little more like it doesn’t really matter. But I’m a sex blogger, so if I don’t write anything about Valentine’s Day I’ll get letters. So, as a compromise I’ve written a guide to things you can buy as Valentine’s Day gifts for yourself. Hoard them, enjoy them, publicly propose to them if you want to, just don’t give them to anyone else: there are other gift guides for that.

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This might sound a little weird to you, but when I conjure up sex fantasies I, personally, am not in them. Usually they feature a guy (or two, or three) that I’ve cast from a set of characters in my head – army sergeant, angry teacher, dominant dude on a conference call and … a woman who does not look like me. I didn’t realise this was unusual, until I had a conversation with someone about it, then ran some polls on Twitter to ask: do you, yourself, star in your sex fantasies?

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There are very few things in life that are truly guilt-free pleasures. Throughout the history of the human race, we’ve been on the constant look-out for pleasure. And unfortunately, most of the things we find that give it to us turn out to be bad in some way. Masturbation, though, is not one of those things. It is the jewel in the pleasure crown: something which is both intensely enjoyable and actually good for you. So it’s disappointing to hear that some twats have invented ‘No Nut November’ – a masturbation version of Stoptober (for smoking) or Dry January (for booze). A month during which people are encouraged to avoid masturbation for the good of their physical and mental health.

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There are lots of fascinating ethical questions surrounding the production of humanoid sex robots, not least the question of what kind of consent you’d need from someone in order to use their voice, face, or body when you produce a silicone replicant. But I want to state it here and now that I’d love to live on as a sex robot.

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The other day I spent a lovely couple of hours listening to men wanking. It was obscenely fun. Dudes pleasuring themselves is one of my biggest kinks, and the more gutturally raw it is, the better. It’s often tricky to explain the detail of this kink, in a world where ‘porn’ is too often synonymous with the male gaze: a perspective that focuses on the bodies/faces/noises of the women involved in a fuck, and rarely ever on the bodies/faces/noises of the men doing the fucking. Sometimes what looks like a ‘traditional’ male-gaze thing gives excellent opportunity for a voyeur like me. I’m not getting off to the same thing the guys are, I’m getting off to the fact they’re getting off. Let’s explore this…

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