Tag Archives: ways to fuck
What not to put on your sex playlist
The sound of sex is pretty important, by which I mean that if I’m fucking you I want to hear noises. You know – yelps, squeals, sighs – all that good stuff. Above all I want to hear you grunt like I’m a particularly hefty bit of furniture and you’re shifting me up an awkward staircase.
The most common soundtrack to my fucking is just that: the sound of fucking. Me sighing, you moaning, like a shit call-and-response bridge in the middle of a passionate duet.
Unngh.
Aaah.
Yeah.
Fuck.
Oh.
Nnng.
Oooh.
You know what I mean.
Sometimes, though, people choose to play music.
When I was fucking new people quite regularly, and I had a housemate whose desire to hear me fuck could be measured on a scale from ‘no thanks’ to ‘Jesus fuck woman I will BUY you a GAG’, I had a sex playlist.
Fucking in secret, fucking in the dark
We’re grown-ups now: it’s not the done thing. You can’t fuck in a crowded room at a sleepover and expect to get away with it. We have more fun, don’t we? Those group sex parties and swingers’ clubs and all the places we can legitimately fuck in the open? Except we don’t, not always. And sometimes the delight of having secret sex in the dark is overlooked in favour of open sex with an audience.
I used to do this a lot. When I was young, I mean – not now. Now we have money for hotels, and big houses, and far far fewer friends. And – what’s that other thing? – oh yeah, restraint. There’s little need now to pack horny couples into a living room and hope their sex doesn’t jog the couple shagging on the pillows next to them.
That’s either a shame or a blessing. If you think it’s the latter, then please don’t read on.
Tight fucking, being smothered and my favourite sex position
This is my favourite sex position: me face down. Head buried in the pillow. Heat that borders on claustrophobia. Legs straight, and slightly parted. He kneels above me, ideally holding his dick in one hand, using the other to squash and pinch and slap my arse. There’s a vulnerable feeling – being exposed and examined and used. Occasionally spread.
Fishnets and buttsex and all the right noises
Fishnet tights.
I know, they’re obvious. They’re easy. They’re prone to laddering. But they’re hot. And I can’t wear fishnets to this day without thinking about urgent, spit-lubed buttsex. Here’s why.
What’s your seduction style? Mine’s ‘incompetent and terrifying’
When Valentine’s Day comes around I’m struck by the uniform nature of seduction – if we’ve decided to spend the 14th having a sexy evening in, we’re expected to conjure romance and sexiness using lingerie, rose petals, and a strategically timed raise of the eyebrow. Words like ‘intimate’ and ‘sensual’ are hurled around with casual abandon, as if these are things anyone can just conjure out of thin air. As if all sex starts with a soundtrack and a flurry of silk sheets and voile.
I can’t help but think I’m expected to charm guys into bed with grace and dignity, ideally leaving a waft of some expensive perfume leaving a trail from the doorway to the bed.
That is not my seduction style.