I don’t want your hot dick or your dripping, sizzling spunk: I want you to mouth-fuck me with a Cornetto. Take your sweet, tight arse to the shop and come back with a bag of lollies. Give me ice-cold bites of everything.

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What are you supposed to do if you walk in on someone having sex? Clearly the answer lies somewhere between ‘run away immediately’ and ‘apologise, then shut the door.’ Sadly, no one gets this lesson during sex ed classes, so I’d like to give you a couple of examples of what not to do, as well as my favourite walking-in-on-naked people story…

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Today’s guest blogger – Catey – runs a seriously lovely sexy words Tumblr, where she collects smutty quotes from literature. And as you can tell from her guest blog below, she’s pretty amazing at telling dirty stories herself…

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There are two threads to the story I want to tell today. The first thread is so obvious it feels almost trite to mention it: I want to tell you about a particularly brilliant g-spot dildo, which stimulates me in a way not many others do. The second thread is about being hand-fucked. Not ‘wanked off’, not ‘masturbated’: being hand-fucked. Sometimes I write fucking stories that are about speed or enthusiasm or energy. I’ll tell you that this or that fuck was intense, or fun, or orgasmic. This fuck, though? This fuck was thorough.

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He’s on the phone in the living room and I can hear one half of the conversation. I understand about twenty percent of it. The other eighty percent is a delicious mixture of authority, skill, and words I don’t really understand that are directly related to his job. A job which I know he is pretty fucking good at. I boil the kettle. I grind coffee beans. I prepare him a coffee so delicious that when he gets off the phone he’ll acquiesce to my request: please please please can I suck your dick now? He’s in ‘work mode’ and it’s intensely sexy – I want to start from flaccid, and have the joy of sucking him hard.

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