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Unsurprisingly, the model looking saucy with her paintbrush never looks like she’d even consider licking it off so, presumably, the guy ends up in the shower, trying to wash off “sex god” in flaky, congealing chocolate. Strawberries and, of course, bananas are another favourite.

When I get home, I stand in front of the mirror trying to eat them suggestively, but it’s impossible not to look like a monkey and I end up with strawberry mashed into my favourite t-shirt.

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The first thing you have to do is set the mood, plant the seed of desire, by sending him naughty texts while he’s at work – things like “I can think of other uses for that tie you’re wearing.” As we’re doing the fast-track-to-turned-on method, I don’t have time to be coy so I send him a text about wanting to suck him off, pull up my t-shirt and take a picture of my breasts and pull down my knickers and take one of my pussy then send them to him.

He asks me to stop because he’s trying to concentrate so I tell him how wet I am, baby.

FB says he doesn’t like being tied up because he gets claustrophobic and needs to know he could get away (69ing is out since he panicked and launched me off his face and out of bed, breaking a lamp and cutting my wrist) so I decide I’ll use ribbons and slipknots instead of handcuffs.

I’m supposed to get bossy at some point, ordering him to do various things to me so I borrow my friend’s fuck-me boots, get some cheap pvc underwear that leaves red suction marks when I take it off, and try to come up with a list of things I want him to do. “Do you know what happens to men who fall asleep on me? ” I quickly don my pvc and boots then start striding about, slapping the crop against my leg.

The sex was fun, easy and, after three and a half years without any, very welcome.

I’d half thought my hymen might have grown back, my body having given up on the prospect of ever getting any action again.Feckless, selfish, and apparently amnesic where plans to meet up are concerned, he couldn’t actually be anything but a fuck-buddy.But men wilfully incapable of having relationships aren’t necessarily a bad thing – you can do stuff with them that you might not do with a partner or someone with whom you were emotionally involved. Maybe it’s jealousy, selfishness, and insecurity, or maybe it’s perfectly understandable and reasonable.To celebrate this, I’m going to be cajoling (coercing, if necessary) him into doing some experimenting.For a warm-up, I thought we’d start off doing, in a single session, all the things women’s magazines tell you to do to spice up your sex life and see what happened.Whatever the reason, I don’t think I’d take easily to polyamory even if the three-, four-, five-somes were only in his head.