My erotica library

I hit my NaNoWriMo target wordcount today, so even though I’m already a fair way behind where I should be at this point in the month, I’m rewarding myself by writing a blog post. (Yes, you’re correct, it’s weird to reward yourself for writing by writing.)

I’m having a first stab at erotica for this year’s NaNo, which means I’m writing with a huge stack of inspirational erotica on my coffee table at all times. Now, while I understand that the mark of great erotica is whether it can maintain the feeling of sexiness even outside of the sex scenes, I realised recently that in my head is a catalogue of my favourite lines and that when I’m horny I’ll zone in on one of these lines and that’ll be the book I pick up.

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Don’t ask me how I am

There’s a question that I hate way more than all the ones I used to hate, like ‘Why don’t you go on top for a bit?’ or ‘Wasn’t there a packet of chocolate fingers here earlier? (My colleagues say that to me a lot.)

That question is ‘How are you?’ and also its variant, ‘What’ve you been up to?’

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All about respect

I meant to start November by writing about NaNoWriMo (or writing for NaNoWriMo, at least), but instead I’ve decided to write about something I watched over three weeks ago, which bothered me at the time and which has continued to bother me more and more as the weeks have passed. That thing is Channel 4’s documentary Diary of a Teen Virgin.

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By way of introduction …

Last night, the boy in my life wrote at length about why he doesn’t like receiving oral sex. I love going down on him, and while I knew that he doesn’t tend to come that way, I didn’t realise that he wasn’t even that keen on the act per se. What struck me most when I read it is that, although we’ve been fucking for two years, it isn’t something he’s felt able to tell me to my face.

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