The trouble with having a sex blog is that when one is having all the sex, one is disinclined to write about it. For two reasons, I think – first, that having sex is much more fun than writing about sex. Second – you suddenly have so much to write about that you probably shouldn’t be telling people in the first place.
And reason #2 is why I’ve been curiously silent. It’s not that I’ve been too busy doin’ it to blog it… I’ve had time. The fact is that it’s much easier to open up about sex when you’re not having any. Pre-boyfriend, I could happily natter away about anal fisting, furverts, strap-ons and dogging, safe in the knowledge that it was all hypothetical. Now – well, now if I were to muse upon the mechanics of medical fetishes, you’d all be thinking that’s what I’m getting up to.
Not that there’s anything *wrong* with a medical fetish, per se. Or that there’d be anything wrong with me having one, if I did, which I don’t.
No, it’s more that I’m fairly sure my friends and compatriots don’t need that mental image. I’m much happier introducing my lovely new boything to people who aren’t intimately aware of that thing he does in bed that’s really awesome, or suspecting that we’re going to break out the badger costumes when we get home.
But it’s time to build a bridge and get over it. The boy assures me he has no problem with me blogging about what we get up to, and I know that my friends aren’t going to cast me out as a harlot at this stage since they’ve known I’m one for years.
And if nothing else, it will give Bridget more material with which to torment me. From my SEX BLOG.
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