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.

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