Tag Archives: ways to fuck
Guest blog: does sex make music sound better?
As I discovered when writing the intro to this blog, quite a few people google the question ‘does music make sex better?’ I quite like the idea that there are one or two particularly excellent songs which, when played during a hot shag, will instantly make the guy I’m with jizz gold coins or fireworks or something. But what about the other way round?
This week’s guest blogger is Joel, who runs a music blog over at The Album Wall. He wants to flip that question: is any given piece of music guaranteed to sound better if you’ve fucked to it?
Casual femdom, and sex that’s not sex
Text: For every minute you’re late, I’m going to make you put an ice cube down your trousers.
I was quite proud of that one at the time. He still hasn’t done it though. The pub was a bit exposed and to be honest, it felt like maybe that one was a bit sexual. Ice cubes? Cool. Casual femdom? Fine. Trouser-based activity? Probably pushing it.
I have a friend who is super-sub. The kind of submissive you find in clubs wearing just PVC panties and an expectant grin. The sort of guy I’d playfully ask for a foot rub if my pointy shoes were killing me. A sub who does whatever you ask, then looks at you with those puppy-dog-eyes I’ve heard so much about, eager for you to issue another instruction.
Guest blog: So I found out my boyfriend liked sploshing…
Sometimes you don’t share someone else’s kink, and you just want to leave it at that. Other times, you don’t share someone else’s kink but you really love exploring it with them because you want to find out exactly why it gets them so hot under the collar. This week’s guest blog, by a filthy girl who wishes to remain anonymous, is about the latter thing, and it’s an example of sex writing so powerful that as soon as I read it I had to have a vigorous shag to work through my horniness. What I’m saying is that this guest blog – about sploshing – is hotter than the actual sun.
Is it cheating if you fuck a robot?
If you’re not yet up to date on Channel 4’s uncanny-valley AI drama Humans, then please note that this blog post contains spoilers up to episode 5.
Never one to shy away from the big questions, this week I had a fairly heated debate with a gentleman about the issue of whether robot sex is cheating. I know, it doesn’t really seem relevant, right? After all, this is far-into-the-future shit that we won’t have to deal with for hundreds of years yet. How close are we really to creating a fuckable robot?
Well, depending on your definition of ‘fuckable robot’, one already exists. Sure, we’re still in the early days, but there are many cool techy pleasure toys on the market (I’m thinking fucking machines or masturbators with some kind of mechanical/buzzy element, toys designed with wifi/bluetooth apps, that kind of thing) but realistically we’re getting pretty inventive. There are toys which you can pair together over long distances (like this Kiiroo masturbator, which twins with an insertable vibrator, and aims to wank you off in time to the vibrator use). We also have fairly realistic-looking sex dolls, which – if twinned with this kind of technology – would create a passably robotic lover.
It is well exciting.
I’ve talked before about robot sex, when a bloody strange opinion poll reported that only 17% of people said they’d have sex with a robot. My answer to this question is ‘hell yes,’ especially if the robot is pretty good at sex. But what prompted the debate the other day wasn’t whether or not either of us would do it, but whether doing it would count – to either of us – as ‘cheating.’
Summer sex: what do you do when it’s too hot to fuck?
Goths of the world, unite! Then disband again! Because actually it’s a little bit awkward meeting so many people! And we’re all a bit too warm in these clothes and we’d really rather be hiding in the basement!
I am shit at summer. I suck at being on the beach, I am appalling at barbecues, and although I can certainly appreciate a sweaty guy in a too-tight summer t-shirt, in general I find my libido plummeting with every increase in temperature.
It. Is. Shit.
Some bits of summer are passably good. Shall we go to sit in a pub beer garden? YES. Shall we have an ice-cream? YES. Shall we fuck like it’s the end of the world and our orgasm might stave off Armageddon? NO OH GOD FUCK OFF.