All in my mind (for now…)


I spend a lot of time “in my own head”. In a way, this post follows on from the posts I did for both the Creative and Fantasy prompts of the previous weeks.

Obviously, I spend a lot of time engaging in sexual activity, either with Master C or on my own. The opportunities for me to be having sex outside of these parameters currently do not exist, although there is just the faintest glimmer of hope that things might not be quite as restrictive soon.

So, while I can’t actually have sex with “The Girl” or “The Other Guy” or some drunken random, that doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it.

I have, lately, spent a lot of time trying to imagine that it will be like when I finally get to meet my other lovers in person again.

With “The Other Guy”, I suspect it’ll be much like sex with Master C, albeit without the discipline and, given how long it has been since we last fucked, much more urgency. I like to imagine him deciding which of my holes he wants to get reacquainted with first. Does he want to feel my lips wrap around his shaft as I slide them along his length, taking the head of his cock deep into the back of my throat? Is his need to fuck me so great that he simply bends me over, hitches up my skirt or yanks down my jeans, pulls the gusset of my knickers aside and plunges straight into my cunt; gripping my hips as he fucks me long and hard? Does he want the tightness of my arse; to stretch and hurt me as he fucks me? What position does he want me in? On my back so that he can pin me beneath him? Bent over the table or the arm of a chair? On my knees, my boobs swinging free beneath me as he takes me hard? Will he fuck me in the living room? Will me make it upstairs to his bedroom? Will he just take me there on the stairs in the hall; items of clothing scattered at our feet as our bodies become reacquainted.

With “The Girl” it will be different. It will still be urgent, but it will be slower, softer. We will take our time as we slowly rediscover each other’s bodies with our lips, our fingers, our tongues. Our lips will kiss, our fingers will explore, our hands will caress, our cunts will ache with the desire to feel each other’s tongues. Nipples will stiffen as they are licked, kissed and bitten. Moans will fill the room as fingers slip between labia and into cunts. Backs will arch as tongues reconnect with clits. We will tease each other, take each other to the edge, let the tension build into an exquisite pain before allowing our climaxes to ignite. And then, after the glow of our reunion slowly wears off, we will do it again.

As for randoms, well that kind of depends very much on when pubs are allowed to reopen and at what time of the evening they turf us out, but I can imagine myself in some alleyway, on my knees, sucking hungrily on the cock of my chosen object of lust. Devouring him until he comes down my throat. I can picture myself standing in some hidden doorway, bracing myself as some unknown man fucks me urgently from behind. I can feel the intensity as I struggle to remain silent lest my moans draw unwanted attention to our furtive fucking. I can sense the thrill of hearing voices nearby and wondering if we will be discovered.

All of these things play out in my mind when Master C leaves me to my own devices, allowing me to spend time with my toys and/or fingers. For now, these events, these encounters, these “indiscretions” that will allow me to encounter Master C’s rightful chastisement can  only happen in my imagination. I hope, however, that one day soon, the can start to become a reality once again.

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Fuck cards and flowers, just fuck me


Valentine’s Day started, like a lot of other days, with a fuck. Let’s be honest, it’s a great way to get the heart pounding, and help you start the day. If an orgasm can’t make you face the day with a smile on your face, I’m not sure if anything can.

It was, as wake-up sex often is, a fairly perfunctory, but highly satisfactory fuck. Having established that I was awake, Master C proceeded to skilfully and efficiently get me in the mood. Lips and tongue on my nipples, fingers on my clit and between my labia quickly got me to the point where I needed Him inside me.  “Please Sir, can your slut have your cock inside her now?” I asked, “I would really like Sir to fuck me.”

Fuck me, Master C did. Starting slowly, but firmly, he sank His cock sank me. The pace quickly picked up, the force of His thrusts quickly intensified. I came, my fingers digging into His buttocks. Seconds later, with a final thrust, Master C came too, flooding my cunt with His lovely thick, warm wetness.

And that was that.

Evening found me in the kitchen, preparing a risotto from the remains of the previous evening’s roast chicken. While it was simmering, I decided that I probably had time to give Master C  a blow-job, so, stopping only to set a timer on the hob, that’s what I did.

It wasn’t one of my prolonged worshipings of His cock, but it had the desired effect.  I started slow but, in much the same way as when Master C fucked me that morning, the urgency took over and my head was bobbing frantically up and down in His lap as His fingers twisted in my hair, His hips thrusting His cock deeper into my mouth, driving the head into my throat as my fingers and lips worked on His shaft.

The was an intense urgency to how I sucked Him. Usually, I luxuriate in giving Master C a blow-job, as much for my own enjoyment of performing the act as for the pleasure it gives Him. Last night, however, much as yesterday morning, something more primal took over. I wanted His cum, I wanted it like a starving person wants food, or a thirsty person wants a drink. I wanted, no, I needed Master C’s cum in my mouth and, I got exactly what I wanted/needed.

That particular need satisfied, I returned to the kitchen to finish the preparation of our meal.

A little later, Master C announced that He wanted dessert, and that His dessert of choice was me. Unsurprisingly, I was only too happy to oblige; I never pass up the opportunity to feel Master C’s tongue on my clit.

Unlike our morning fuck, and the pre-teatime blow-job, there was an almost total absence of urgency. Master C wanted to luxuriate in feasting on me and I was not going to complain (not that I would). His tongue slowly but surely took me closer and closer to the edge of orgasm and then held me there for what seemed like an eternity,  Fingers twisting inside my cunt, His tongue applying firm but gentle pressure on my clit, He teased, tormented and tortured me, holding me on the precipice as fire screamed through my nerves demanding release.

I don’t know how Master C does it, but He knows my responses so well. He knows just the right amount of pleasure to push me almost, but not quite over the edge and then keep me there. Sometimes holding me on the very brink, other times, taking me there then drawing back, only to take me there again.  Last night was a combination of both.

Time and time again Master C expertly took me right to the edge, holding me over the rim, only to pull me away again. Each time, I was certain this would be the time that He would take mercy, and each time I would know the frustration of being denied again.

I was sobbing for release; begging to be allowed to come, but Master C had His own agenda; He would let me come only when He had had his fill of of my cunt.

When the end finally came, the release of energy and tension was beyond description. Volcanic would be one word for it, albeit an inadequate word. My body shook so hard I’m almost certain the British Seismology Society probably registered, my moan probably deafened the neighbours half way down the street.

My body was still shaking when Master C propped me up  against the sofa, parted my legs and slid His cock into me. I was entirely passive as He fucked me from behind, starting with my cunt, then moving to my arse. His strokes were strong and firm and my body responded. Even if I was incapable of conscious movement, my unconscious  self knew what to do; the correct synapses fired and I came again.

My cunt throbbed, partially from the intensity of the orgasm His tongue had inflicted on me and partially from the pounding His cock had given it. My arse now felt deliciously stretched and full as he drove into it. The top half of my body lay on the cushions of the sofa as he took me, my nipples being tormented by the nap of the material under them.

Master C came, with a grunt, unloading Himself in my back passage. My body still refused to move. I wasn’t in what you would call an elegant or ladylike position, but elegance or being ladylike has never been my thing. I’d had my cunt thoroughly eaten, and my arse masterfully fucked, I’d had one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever had, and a few smaller ones, and I was happy beyond the ability of words to express.

Later still, in bed, I snuggled into Him, enjoying the warmth of His firm body beside mine, and drifted contentedly off to sleep.

So, yeah, some people like cards and flowers and chocolates, some people like romantic dinners for two; me, well I really love being fucked and that’s exactly what I got for Valentine’s Day. I wouldn’t want to spend it any other way.

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An evening in the life of…


Master C is sitting on the sofa. I am on the floor between His legs. Almost inevitably, His cock is in my mouth. That isn’t how things started; originally I’d been facing the other way and Master C had been giving me a very nice head, neck and shoulder rub.

I’d mentioned previously that, on the work front, this had been quite a difficult week for me, but it had also taken it’s toll on Master C. His job is stressful and difficult at the best of times, and the current situation is just multiplying that. On top of that, He has to contend with me being extra needy so, after all the care and consideration Master C had shown me over the past few days, I decided some reciprocation was required and took things into my own hands and, from there, into my mouth.

I don’t know how long I’d already spent, licking and kissing, teasing the shaft, head and tip with my lips and tongue, being rewarded with numerous contented sighs, moans and groans. At some point though, I decided that what I really needed was to have Master C’s lovely thick, hard cock in my mouth.

I love sucking cock. I particularly love sucking Master C’s cock. I am absolutely certain that if you put me blindfolded in a room of men, and made me take each one in my mouth, aside from making me deliriously happy at the prospect, my lips would be able to identify  Master C’s cock just from the long familiar knowledge if its thickness, circumference and every ridge and ripple on its surface.

I love sliding my lips slowly down the length of Him, taking Him deep, having the head of His cock lodge in the back of my throat. I start slowly, up and down, back and forth, swallowing involuntarily when He is fully inside, swirling my tongue around the head and over the tip when I slide back up.

The experience of having done this to Him countless times over the years means I know His responses. I can feel the tenseness grow in His thighs and abdomen as my mouth works its magic. I hear the change in His breathing as the pressure mounts. The throbbing in His cock signals His increased heartrate. His sighs and moans of pleasure become ever more pronounced.

Master C moans my name as I begin to work my mouth a little bit faster. He tells me what a “good girl” I am as I suck a little harder. His hips begin to thrust a little, forcing His cock into my mouth. Master C resists the urge to start fucking my mouth, He wants to enjoy my attentions. The urge within Him to grab my head and drive His cock into my throat is hard to resist and dong so increases the pressure building in side.

I can taste His essence, I can sense the nearness of His climax. I’m torn, wanting Him to come, to erupt in my mouth so I can savour His load, but also wanting Him to savour this moment for as long as He can.

The involuntary movements of  His hips increase, His breathing is more laboured. I know Master C is holding back, fighting to delay the inevitable; not to deny me my reward, but to keep this moment going for as long as possible.

Faster, my head bobs up and down, taking His cock deep, sucking hard. A familiar twitching warns me that He cannot hold on for much longer. I slide my lips back until only the head remains in my mouth. I suck, hard, flicking my tongue over the slit, tasting the nearness of His release.

Seconds that seem like ages pass. The fingers of Master C’s left hand grip my  right shoulder. I look up and see the train around His eyes, that pre-climax tightness in the set of His jaw. And Then, like the flicking of a light switch, His face relaxes and moans softly. A moment later, I feel the familiar surge as His load is forced up His cock an pumped violently into my mouth.

His cum fills my mouth, pooling on my tongue. Master C’s rich, sticky manly essence is the reward for my efforts. I swallow hungrily then suck the remaining drops from Him. Finally, letting His cock slip from between my lips, I savour the last of His cum, swirling it around my mouth with, He tells me later, a look of dreamy contentment on my face.

I swallow and look up, smiling. Master C smiles back. “Good girl,” He says softly, “You are my very, very good girl.” I smile, knowing that I will almost certainly be rewarded more later but, until then, I am content to climb up on to the sofa and snuggle into Him while He recovers.

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Happiness, is a mouth full of cock


I can’t deny that I love fucking and being fucked. Nor could I ever try to convince someone that I don’t love getting my cunt thoroughly and expertly eaten out.  The simple truth of the matter is if its sexual activity, I’m almost certainly your gal (well, strictly speaking, I’m Master C’s gal, but so long as I’m happy to accept His discipline, I could be yours too I guess).

Be that as it may (and it definitely may), when it comes to sex, I am almost never happier than when I have my lips wrapped around a nice, hard cock; especially (of course) Master C’s cock, but pretty much any cock, so long as it’s clean, will do the job.

It is no exaggeration when I say that in the years that have passed since my 14 year old self first performed the act, my mouth has had more cocks in it than both my cunt and arse combined; largely because it is almost my go to option when I’m having one of my drunken encounters with a random guy who has taken my fancy in a pub.

So why is this?

There are a number of factors.

It’s ideal for a quick and casual, no strings encounter. Get on your knees, take him in your mouth, lick and suck until he erupts, swallow and go. It’s just raw gratification. Even conversation is optional, although being a well mannered slut, I do generally utter a “thank you” for the load I’ve been given.

It’s convenient. There’s no need for undressing involved; he just needs to whip his cock out and you can get on with task in front of you (and it’s so much easier to hide the evidence if there’s a risk of being disturbed).

There’s also the fact that I get to enjoy their enjoyment of what I’m doing. Every gasped exclamation, every shuddering breath drawn, every involuntary thrust of the hips and twitch of the cock, every drop of cum released into my mouth is down to me; I have done that to them.

I enjoy the sense of empowerment that goes with it. Let’s be honest, as a woman, particularly a submissive woman, most sexual acts that I take part in are done to me, or at the very least, down to me. I am the one being fucked, I am the one getting my cunt licked out (unless I’m with another woman, of course, but let’s keep it simple), I am the one being disciplined; essentially I am, almost by default, the receiver. It is, after all, basic biology. Yes, I am curious as to what it would feel like to have a penis, and to have that penis sucked or for me to use that penis to fuck another person’s mouth, cunt or arse, but I don’t have one, so it will remain an intellectual curiosity. I do however, have a mouth for kissing, and sucking, as well as a throat, cunt and arse for fucking, and I love having all of these thing done to me. Giving a blow-job (and going down on another woman) is, however, me doing it to the other person. I am the giver in this situation.

Now yes, I know you could argue that when my holes are being fucked, I am giving the other person my body to use, but that is a passive form of giving. When I am giving head, I am very actively giving. My lips kiss the head and shaft of cock before me before stretching around it and sliding along its length. My tongue flicks and licks all over the cock’s surface, teasing and tormenting. My mouth is the tool I employ to pleasure them with, and I love to hear the sounds of appreciation that come from the recipient.

Being responsible for another person’s orgasm is a privilege and a responsibility that I never take lightly. It doesn’t matter whether I am giving Master C a long, slow, sensual sucking to help relieve Him of the stresses of a hard day, or if I am giving an unknown random a quickie in the alley behind the pub, I apply myself diligently to the task.  I want the person who’s cock I am sucking to appreciate and enjoy what I am doing to them. You could say I want them to be blown away by the way I blow them. And yes, it goes without saying, that I want to be rewarded for my efforts with a lovely thick load of cum to savour and swallow, I want to be connected intimately to the joy of their release. In that moment, I know that they are powerless to resist their own most basic reflexes and it is me and my mouth that is responsible for this.

I honestly don’t know how many cocks I have sucked in the past 30 odd years, nor how many loads of cum I have swallowed. Some, I will admit, have been less pleasant than others (that is an occupational hazard for a professional cocksucker) but every load has been down to me; a “reward” for a (blow-) job well done.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an overwhelming need to have Master C’s cock in my mouth…

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Getting fucked


I can’t say that I’ve ever thought of fucking as a kink; it’s really just something that I do (or have done to me) and that I enjoy, A LOT! Over a period of 28+ years, since that very first time when I purposely discarded my virginity, right up to the one I had this morning, getting fucked is something that I relish.

I can’t tell you how many cocks I’ve had inside me (I could probably work it out but really, who is interested?) and I certainly don’t remember every time I’ve been fucked (although there have been some truly memorable fucks as well as those that have been long forgotten), but even where the actual fuck may not have been what I’d hoped for, or needed, I’m pretty certain the circumstances of the fuck, the anticipation, the build up, the moment of first penetration meant that none of them were entirely unenjoyable; from the drunken, late night, back-alley fumbled quickie, all the way through to the most prolonged and protracted, climax filled, weekend long fuckfest (possibly with multiple partners), fucking is simply something that I cannot get enough of.

Cocks, come in all shapes and sizes, and the range of skill with which they are used has almost infinite variety. The same cock can feel completely different depending on the circumstances in which it finds itself in me, depending on the kind of fuck that it is giving me, depending on which hole it is fucking.

And that’s the thing, it’s not just my cunt or my arse that I let get fucked; my mouth/throat are just as receptive to being roughly taken by a cock, of being used, of being taken and filled by a cock repeatedly thrusting into it. When a man grabs my head and roughly fucks my mouth, it is every bit as intense, every bit as rewarding as when he garbs my hips and drives his cock deep into my cunt or my arse. I readily and happily accept that all my holes are available for fucking, whether it be one cock fucking each in turn, or multiple cocks fucking me simultaneously.

The simple truth is, there are very few things in life that give me as much pleasure and sense of self-fulfilment as a fucking good fucking.

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Almost limitless


When it comes to sex, I’ve always had a fairly “anything goes” attitude. I’ve always been willing to try new things, I like to experiment, I like to have my boundaries pushed.

There is a difference, I think, between boundaries and limits. My boundaries have definitely expanded since I started on my sexual journey. My natural curiosity led me to try (and enjoy as it turned out) things like anal, sex with other women, group-sex, bondage, swinging, etc. I’ve had casual sex with both men and women, I get off on risky situations such as sex in fairly public place where there is a risk (to varying degrees) of getting caught. In my student days, I once even caught a night bus back from a club with a guy’s cum (albeit dried by the time the bus finally showed up) all over my face.

There is a thrill of trying new things, of experiencing new sensations in different circumstances. Far from being limits, my boundaries are simply things I haven’t tried. Some I have actively wanted to do, some I was less keen on trying, and some, up until I found myself doing them, I hadn’t even considered.

There are, however, a few things that I won’t do.

Anything involving scat/urine/blood is out.  While I have no problem (massive understatement) with anal, rimming is something I won’t do. Similarly, if a cock has been in my arse, even though a condom has been worn, it isn’t going anywhere else until it has had a bloody good wash.

One final thing: needles.  I have a pathological fear of them. I even have to get knocked out when I go to the dentist. So, they are an absolute no-no.

I don’t really have many limits, and those that I have are definitely hard, and, have remained constant from the very start.

Apart from those, as I said at the start, anything goes.Food For Thought - #F4Thought

On my knees


Whether it’s facing Master C, ready to take His cock in my mouth, or facing away, bracing myself, ready to feel Him in my cunt or arse, I spend a lot of time on my knees.

When I’m sucking His cock, I love to look up at Master C, making eye contact as I take Him deep into the back of my throat. As I kneel between His legs, Mater C puts His hands on my head and forces His cock deeper. I look up through my lashes and see the look of hunger in His eyes.

Turning away from Him, I brace myself, waiting for Master C to take me. The anticipation grows as His hands grip my hips, peaking as I feel the head of His wonderful cock press against the entrance of His choice. My body moves as Master C plunges into me. Sometimes He grabs my hair, pulling my head back painfully, at other times, He’ll push me forward, forcing my face towards the floor as He fucks me with long, hard, forceful thrusts of His magnificent cock.

Of course, it’s not just about blow-jobs and fucking. I kneel to receive His spankings, I kneel when I await the bite of His belt on my arse, I kneel when I thank Master C for my punishment.

I spend a lot of time on my knees, and I love every moment I spend on them.

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A mouthful of man


In my last post, I discussed how much I love wanking . So, inspired by a rather yummy prompt image, today I thought I’d wax lyrical on the subject of another of my favourite activities, sucking cock.

It’ll come as no surprise to anyone who has followed this blog for any length of time that I simply love sucking cock. I can honestly say that I have had more cocks in my mouth than I have had in either my cunt or my arse.

I’ve mentioned before about the sense of control sucking a guy’s cock gives me, but what I love most about it is the knowledge that his pleasure, his orgasm, is entirely down to me.

There is something immensely satisfying about taking a cock from a state of flaccid disinterest, through the stages of arousal to full pulsing hardness, until it erupts sending its hot, thick load down my throat. It gives me a great sense of gratification to know that I alone have done this; that I have given him so much pleasure.

I love licking and kissing every inch. I love taking the swollen head deep into the back of my throat, sometimes allowing myself to chock and gag on it. I love the moans and sighs that the recipient of my talent makes, letting me know how much pleasure I am giving him. I love it when he grabs my hair and pushes his cock deeper into my mouth as he begins to lose control. And I especially love it when he comes, filling my mouth with his manly essence, rewarding me for a job well done.

Sucking any guy’s cock, for me, is all about the pleasure I give him. It’s not entirely selfless however, as I take a deep pleasure of satisfaction from knowing that I am pleasing him, worshipping his cock as a symbol of his masculinity.

And, as Master C’s dutiful submissive slut, it is right that I should praise and, yes, worship my Master’s cock. For me, the most devotional form of worship I can give, is to suck His cock.

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The humble hand-job


The hand-job is an often overlooked aspect of sexual activity; which is slightly ironic since, for many of us, it was the first overtly sexual act that we ever performed on another person. In my own particular case, I was 14 when I did it.

There was someone extremely exciting about the whole thing; the feeling of his cock growing hard in my hand,the moans of pleasure as I teased him with my fingers, the stiffening of his body and increasing raggedness of his breathing as his climax approached, and then the explosive release of his load when I finally took him past of no return.

Similarly, feeling his fingers pump in and out, twisting around inside me, stretching me as he attempted to work another inside my cunt really got me going. When his thumb pressed against my clit, my orgasm was so intense I thought I might faint.

For me, much of the enjoyment came from discovering the types of touches that drove him wild and then learning to prolong proceedings as much as possible; teasing, almost torturing him until he could take no more.

Of course, it wasn’t all one way traffic. I enjoy being teased too. Fingers driven skilfully into my cunt combined with clit being rubbed and flicked will give me an orgasm every bit as enjoyable as one resulting from a bloody good fucking. For the first few months as a sexually active person, until I discovered the joys of having him go down on me, every orgasm I experienced was either as a result of either his fingers or mine.

Today, the hand-job still plays an important part of my sexual repertoire; sometimes as part of foreplay, and sometimes as an event in its own right. Still the aim is the same, to give Master C as much pleasure as possible, and delaying his release for as long as possible. In the same way, Master C will skilfully use His fingers to take me to the brink of climax and then hold me there, hovering on the precipice until He decides whether or not it is time for me to come..

Of course, since those early days, I’ve also added my mouth and my boobs to my arsenal if ‘weapons’ that can be employed. Hand-jobs and blow-jobs work particularly well in tandem, but sometimes there is a lot of fun to be had from reverting back to those more “innocent” days of early sexual exploration.

Mutual masturbation can be a highly enjoyable experience; having Master C’s fingers working inside my cunt as I’m jerking Him off, both of us cuddled together can, in its own way, be every bit as intimate, sometimes even more so, than an intense fucking.

It also has the advantage of being something that can be done, almost blatantly in a public situation, for example on a train or in a cinema. A strategically placed jacket, a surreptitious undoing of the flies and you’re pretty much good to go.

Hands, and in particular fingers, are so much more versatile compared to cocks, cunts and tongues, and touch is such an important sense. The hand-job is almost an intrinsic part of sex-play, be it on our own, for our own pleasure, or with a partner. Far from being a solitary experience, masturbation can be a wonderfully shared source of pleasure, so let’s hear it for those wonderfully flexible digits that have been the source of so much pleasure.

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It’s not just about cock


I don’t claim to speak on behalf of the female population at large, but as I see things, there are four important parts of his body that a man should use when it comes to satisfying us women.  The more of these he can apply, the more satisfying any given sexual encounter is likely to be for us members of the fairer sex; and keeping us satisfied is, of course, the primary duty of those rugged, hairy beasts we choose to give our bodies to.

I suppose I could have also included the face as a fifth, since looks, and indeed physical attraction as a whole is, often the starting point; without attraction, sex isn’t likely to happen and the rest becomes academic. Also, attractiveness is important to blokes too. Furthermore, it’s almost impossible to quantify. Beauty is, as they say, only skin deep and very much in the eye of the beholder.

So, without any further ado, and in no particular order, I give you my essential men’s’ naughty bits.

1. Brain
So it’s a commonly held belief that men don’t have enough blood to supply both ends of their bodies but, to be honest, we women can be just as bad. The brain is often overlooked as a sexual organ but it is responsible for intelligence, wit, charm, attentiveness, creativeness and experimentation; all things that we women appreciate. Granted, depending on our mood, or what we’re looking for, the relative importance of each of the above elements will vary in relation to each other. In some cases, eg, in the case of a drunken, one night fumble, their importance may seem to vanish altogether but, at some subconscious level, they are still there. The simple fact is, you need to engage our minds before you will ever get the chance to engage any other part of our anatomy.

2. Mouth
Possibly the most versatile of the sexual organs in that it can be used in so many ways.

First, you can use it to tell us how good we look and how sexy we are (hint: you can never do this too often). You can tell us what you intend to do to us. You can ask us what we like (no, really, you can actually do this…). You can also moan and murmur with pleasure as we unleash our talents on you, letting us know how much you are enjoying our attentions. Believe it or not, some of us do like to be told even though it’s generally pretty obvious. Comparisons with exes (and/or other current partners for the benefit of the polyamorous) can sometimes be welcome, but only where favourable. When I’ve got my lips wrapped around your cock, the last thing I want to hear is that I’m almost as good as so-and-so, so if we aren’t actually the best you’ve ever had, either learn to lie (you’re guys and it’s sex we’re talking about after all so it should come naturally to you), or keep it zipped.

Second, there’s kissing. Be it soft, loving and tender, or rough and frantic, we love to be kissed, anywhere and everywhere. No part of our body is immune to touch of your lips. Sometimes, a good passionate snog is all we need (especially when our location means that getting naked and getting down to it would probably get us arrested). Kisses can be a simple show of affection or the can be a way of keeping us simmering until a more suitable time and appropriate location for more full on action presents itself.

Thirdly, there’s the tongue. It’s often been said that the only people who really know how to go down on a women are other women. While it may be true that, as women, we know how we like our cunts to be treated and so, as a result, we tend to go down on other women the way we would like them to go down on us, whereas guys tend to be a little more direct in their approach, I’ve always found that, with sufficient practice and familiarity with what the woman in question likes, men can be every bit as good. Different, yes, but just as satisfying. The key thing is, if you are uncertain, ask, don’t guess. We women are pretty good at telling you what we want when it comes to everything else and sex is no different. Most of us will appreciate such a show of consideration and attentiveness and it will almost definitely be rewarded.

3. Hands
Touch is very important. Whether it be fleeting contacts, gentle caresses through to sensual massage, or full body contact, we are tactile creatures and respond as such.

Of course, it’s not just the hands and fingers; hugs are equally important when it comes to making us feel wanted and appreciated. I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, but in my opinion, the post-coital cuddle is almost as an important part of the sexual experience as the act itself. That extended moment of shared closeness, both partners bathed in the warm glow of their exertions as their bodies slowly come down from their respective sexual highs is, for me anyway, as satisfying as any orgasm.

Of course, living as we do in this digital age, the fingers can be involved in another sexual activity: the naughty text/IM/email. For me, many sessions have began hours before there is any physical contact with a partner sending me flirtatious texts, each one getting that little more explicit than the last. By the time we actually get together, the anticipation is often so intense that no foreplay is actually necessary; I’m literally ready to do them on sight.

Clearly, this may not work for everyone, but if your partner is amiable to such things, try it, the results may be surprising.

4. Cock
Yes, so finally we get there, the “main event”. I think there’s a lot of truth to the adage about it not being what you’ve got but how well you use it. For me, a nice length is between 5½” and 7½”, but so long as I can feel it going in, I’m happy. If it really has to be ‘big’ I prefer thicker to longer.

The worst shag I ever had was with a guy who had a bigger than average cock. I think he was more concerned that I should be impressed with his size rather than his ability. In the end, it hurt and was all over very quickly. It may have been good for him, but it did next to nothing for me.

In an ideal world, I’d take size and technique (actually, I have that with Master C) but, failing that, I’ll settle for ability. Size on its own just doesn’t do it for me.

That said, however, it’s important that it isn’t just your cock that you are using. The reality is, for best results (for the woman anyway), the cock has to be used in conjunction with all of the others. I know, when you’re plunging into the warm wet confines of her cunt, or she has her lips wrapped around your shaft, that your concentration may be a bit vague (note earlier comment about insufficient blood supply), but don’t lose sight of the fact she should be enjoying it too; if in doubt, ask. Don’t forget to keep up the touch too, much as she may be (and she probably is) enjoying your cock stretching and filling her, remember the other bits too. I love having my boobs licked, sucked and caressed during sex and I’m pretty sure most other women do as well.

Depending on the position employed, use your hands to touch those bits of her that she likes to have touched (for me, back of neck, small of back, bum and inner thighs. If she likes it when you talk dirty, do that (within reason). And, above all, don’t forget to keep kissing! If you aren’t face to face, kiss whatever bit is in reach of your mouth.

OK, so it won’t be like that every time. Sometimes, what we want is a wham-bam-thank you-ma’am quickie but, if you take on board what she wants and respond to her needs and desires, the results will be worth it.

Who said we women weren’t demanding? Oh, that’s right, no one.

#WickedWednesday