Another day, another awesome blogger to introduce you all to. The lovely Emma from SexToys pointed me towards Madison’s blog – Sex, Shopping and Chocolate – when I was looking for new and exciting blogs to feature here, and some of her stuff really stood out. I’m going to start with something sexy, move onto something unusual, and end with a climax of passion that will (hopefully) send you running to her blog shouting “OK I need to read more of this IMMEDIATELY and I really hope my boss doesn’t look over my shoulder.”
A hot story about swinging
I don’t know about you, but when perusing a sex blog for the first time, my initial aim is to head for the hottest story. In Madison’s case, what I found was a candid and sexy interview with a swinger. She talks about what she loves about swinging, why it’s so fun, and gives a recent tale of her exploits. The interviewee that she talks to is incredibly matter-of-fact, and having had some swinging experience of my own, I can testify that the straightforward, no-nonsense, “Would you like to fuck my girlfriend?” attitude is pretty common. And definitely welcome if you’re keen to join in but have no idea where to start.
OK, so maybe swinging isn’t that unusual – it’s the 21st Century, right? There are plenty of people who are happy to embrace the sweaty delights of group sex – Louis Theroux even did a documentary on it! Well, there are plenty of other interesting posts, in which Madison interviews people with fascinating fetishes. One of my favourites is this one, on orgasm denial, in which the guy she interviews goes into detail about what it was like wearing a cock cage for the first time:
“It’s an alien feeling to be prevented from achieving a full erection. When it arrived, I was so excited, I tried to put it on right away. But I was so turned on that it wouldn’t actually fit! When I was eventually calm enough to put it on, I did so and tried to carry on with things as normal. Urinating was strange – sitting down, easier. Walking around was fine. Laying on my front was awkward, but on my side or back was fine. Night-time erections would wake me up all the time, but they’d subside, and I was more than prepared to put up with a little short-term discomfort to fulfil my fantasy.”
Orgasmic meditation, and crying in public
In my humble opinion, the things that make a great sex blog are difficult to quantify, because what makes something awesome is the fact that it’s unique. Madison does that really well, trying things that other sex bloggers haven’t necessarily touched on. Example: orgasmic meditation.
Confession: a long time ago I was invited to go to an ‘Orgasmic Meditation’ conference by a PR company trying to boost the take-up of Orgasmic Meditation (OM). I turned it down because… well… it sounded a bit odd. I’m not really a ‘meditation’ kind of person, and if you invite me to join you in your tantric, silent cuddles I’m likely to shout ‘argh hippies’ then storm off for a wank. Madison, however, clearly embraced the idea and has written an astonishingly personal and touching blog about her encounter.
“I started to put my hand up to say “I didn’t feel anything at all” when all of a sudden I was overwhelmed with emotion – panic, fear, embarrassment, joy, hysteria, excitement. I felt everything at once.”
OM still doesn’t sound like my thing, but by Christ it sounds interesting. Especially if learning how to do it involves watching someone have an orgasm on stage.
I love a good beard (with the emphasis on ‘good’ rather than ‘Gandalf’) but to be honest I’d struggle to muster up a 1000 word tirade against shaving. When it comes to your face, you can do whatever you like with the hair that grows out of it – if I fancy you I’ll appreciate you from afar whether you’re babyfaced or Brian Blessed. However, what I fucking love is a bit of passion. This is probably triggered by a very good friend I had when I was younger (who, incidentally, I fancied so hard it was difficult to refrain from licking him when he got too close), who used to spend a fair amount of time talking me through all the minor things that turned his legs to jelly.
“You know that thing…?” He’d begin. “When girls lean over a table and you can sort of see their boobs squash against the table top?”
“Yes,” I’d reply, catching my breath in anticipation of further detail.
“It makes me so hard. Even if I don’t fancy someone, they can basically make me fancy them by putting their boobs on the table.”
Good to know. There were a million and one things like that. The way women lifted both of their arms to tie their hair in a scrunchie – he liked the curve of their neck. The way certain people would suck on a biro. Loads of stuff. What got me wasn’t the specific things themselves, it was the passion with which he adored them.
Hence why I loved Madison’s beard rant – if this isn’t passion, I don’t know what is:
“I thought everyone (in their right fucking mind) shared my facial hair fetish (pogonophilia FYI), until a friend told me that his girlfriend didn’t like it SO HE SHAVED IT OFF. A crime against male sexuality. Probably.”
For the record, though, I should probably point out that your facial hair is your own, and no one should ever tell you that you have to either have it or shave it. It’s just that if you have it, Madison will probably fancy you.