Tag Archives: sex

On giving up

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I don’t think of myself as a massively determined person. Goals that I think are within my reach, sure, I’ll stick at them, but when I don’t think I have a hope in hell of achieving something, I’d rather just walk away.

I say walk away. In reality, I’m not that calm. Take cross country in PE at school as an example. This is my total idea of hell – not only are you asking me to do something that I’m going to find incredibly difficult, you’re asking me to compete against, and to be watched by, other people. The result in this particular case was usually complete meltdown: I could work myself up into floods of tears and hyperventilation in what I’d now recognise as a panic attack, but at the time even I kind of assumed was just teenage melodrama.

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Not my fantasy

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When it comes to writing erotica, I tend to stick to things that turn me on personally. Hence, certain themes crop up time and again.

Strangers. Non consent. Anal.

But recently, my heroine seems to be branching out, which, given the above, probably means that I am too.

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Lost

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My report from my A-Level French teacher said I ‘wasn’t a natural linguist,’ which was unfortunate, since by then I had six university offers to study languages and had therefore somewhat shut down my other options. I know all about the cringiness (sp.?) of getting to grips with speaking a new language, though, which is what inspired this piece, although it is fiction, and a bit of a half-hearted entry for this.

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Sleaze, yes please (occasionally)

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Another blog post hot on the heels of last night’s – partly to make it clear that I have no intention of this becoming a largely protected blog and also because this was the post I wanted to write last night but wasn’t thinking coherently enough to pull all the strands of together.

It started with reading Justine Elyot’s short story, Thames Link, which opens with this line:

” I sing the praise of the sleazy man.”

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Ode to missionary

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There’s a small chance that if I post something tonight it’ll tip my blog hits over the 10,000 mark, and seeing as we all (well, me at least) love a bit of stats porn, it seemed as good a reason as any.

I was perusing Twitter a few days ago, when I saw this Tweet. And I was looking at it again just now and the comments, especially ‘never been bored on my back tbh’ made me LOL on the bus (it’s ok, I promise never to say that ever again). Because I totally agree. I love the missionary position, and not just because I’m all insecure about my body, but also because:

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Squick

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If you talk about something enough, people start to think you actually know something about it. Which, of course, is not true. I could talk at length about the geography of Europe or the different species of animals in the Lion King, but actually, I’m pretty ill-informed on both.

The same is true of sex. I’ve had much less than most of the friends I talk about it with, so it’s strange that they nonetheless sometimes come to me for advice. I wonder occasionally if it’s because I’ve somehow cast myself I the role of big sister – at uni I was one of only a couple of girls on my corridor who took a gap year, so suddenly I went from being the youngest in my year group to being the oldest. Not that that meant more mature. Who set fire to the toaster at 3am and ended up greeting the fire brigade? Yep, that was me.

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Rules are made to be broken

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Lots of talk about policy/rules/guidelines for life/dating going on around Twitter this week. Like most girls, I have a few policies of my own. Never trust a guy who doesn’t like garlic. Wine is not a treat; it’s the drink that goes with dinner (hmm, these are all to do with food). A hot bath with Radox solves a lot of life’s problems. And finally, kind of linked to that, if you’re spending the evening with a guy, you need some time to get ready.

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Hotel sex

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A few years back, I stayed the night in a hotel in London. I was spending the day with one male friend, and the evening with another, and I was intending to spend the night with neither of them. (That’s to say: I would have quite liked to spend the night with Male Friend No. 2, but I knew that that was extremely unlikely to happen).

Male Friend No. 2 and I were having dinner when I got a text from No. 1. The text said something like:

What time will you be done? How about I come to your hotel later and we can enjoy fresh sheets and each other’s bodies?

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