I don’t want to be naked when we start to fuck: I want you to undress me. I want frotting and cotton – want to rub up against you with a barrier between us. I want to be able to slip a hand inside your t-shirt and feel the soft hair in the small of your back with my palm. I want to feel like we’re going somewhere.

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Sometimes I wake up in the night to find my fingers rubbing hard at my clit. Sometimes I wake up and realise I’m licking them. Sucking post-wank moisture from the tips at the end of a half-remembered dream. Sometimes I fuck in my sleep.

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I’ve never been a big fan of massage oil – it gets all sticky on my hands. While it’s delightful to stroke and prod and knead someone else’s body (particularly the arse – God how I love rubbing oiled-up hands on someone’s arse) I’ve always been a bit put off by the fact that when the massage stops and the slippery fucking begins, there’s nowhere to wipe my hands.

Until now, because I have one of these amazing tactile fluidproof sheets, and holy shit do I love it. The following post isn’t a review, it’s just an account of some wet and delicious sex I had. It’s also written pretty much in one take, because I got horny while I was writing it and it was a choice of either editing it for ages or just putting it live then having a wank and a nap. Sorry.

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Before I begin, allow me a minute to put off 50% of you: this is not erotic fiction about what to do on your wedding night. It’s not a post about a romantic fuck at the end of your special day, or how to arouse your partner on the wedding night even though you’ve been together five years and you’re bored of the sight of their bollocks by now. If that’s what you’re after, then please pick up your warm white wine and move on to another buffet: this wedding night fuck is dirty.

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Let’s talk about sacred sex, via the medium of delicious toast.

I don’t think bread is sacred. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t sacred to you. Some of you might do the church thing, for instance, where you kneel at the altar and the priest gives you either the literal body of Christ or something representative enough that to pop it in the toaster would be sacrilege. Judaism has some pretty cool sacred bread stuff too, if I remember right from R.E. classes. Or if you observe Ramadan and eat bread during iftar, then as you chew you might marvel in the wonder of what God does for you/is to you/means to you, and have a nice spiritual moment.

I don’t have a bread ritual, though – I tend to just toast it, butter it, then eat it standing up in the kitchen.

Roughly the same applies with sex.

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