Tag Archives: ways to fuck
Sex etiquette: walking in on people having sex
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…
Guest blog: telling dirty stories to get him off
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…
Ambit g-spot dildo: half recommendation, half dirty story
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.
Sucking him hard: blow jobs from flaccid to erect
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.
What are you thinking? Honest answers to a tricky question
Most of us dread being asked “what are you thinking?” – it’s like a bucket of cold water chucked on you from the sky, interrupting whatever train of thought you were pursuing. Inviting you to pluck the most recent flash of memory or fantasy from your head, and spit it out into the world. Without context, without nuance. It’s just there. Sometimes I am thinking thoughts so bizarre that I wouldn’t want him to hear them unprepared. Other thoughts are so dark that I wouldn’t voice them at all. But I like that he asks. I love that he asks. And for that, he deserves answers.