logo
#

Latest news with #TheHook-Up

I had sex with a man I loathed - and it was incredible
I had sex with a man I loathed - and it was incredible

Metro

timea day ago

  • Entertainment
  • Metro

I had sex with a man I loathed - and it was incredible

My annoyance returned in full force the moment our sex was over. Staring at Jacob's* sweaty back, I couldn't help but chastise myself despite the great shag I just had. I'd told myself that we wouldn't sleep together again and yet here I was – naked and irritated in his bed with my hair in disarray from a good seeing to. I wasn't even surprised that he had rolled over the second we were done. As far as compatible personalities go, Jacob and I were a very bad match. The banter was there, but we disagreed on almost everything. If I said the sky was blue, he would say it was green for the sake of it. It's not that he was a bad guy per se – but he had a very dismissive tone, a sort of superior air to everything he said. This particular evening, I'd seen him at a party and he'd been especially irksome. He made some snide comments and it almost seemed as if he was trying to bait me on purpose. But while Jacob wasn't my type personality-wise, he definitely ticked the boxes physically – there was no denying that he was a handsome man. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! Sexually speaking, I knew without a doubt that he fancied me but I'm not sure if he enjoyed my strong-willed mind. There's a fine line between love and hate, and I think we were somewhere in the middle. We transformed that fiery feeling of wanting to win a debate into wanting to be better than the other in bed, which meant we both gave it our all. And the result was an explosive shag. This fling with Jacob happened a long time ago – and it's safe to say that I've slept with a lot more assholes since. It feels like something I should have learned from, but I've always enjoyed a good back-and-forth and I find intelligence to be a huge turn-on, even if it shows up as arrogance. For me, a war of words can be a great form of foreplay because it gets my blood boiling. It's a controversial opinion but I actually think there's a great benefit in sleeping with 'Mr Wrong' every now and then – with a few exceptions, of course. There was Logan*, who enters near the top of my list of men I disliked but still slept with. He was a classic lothario – sexy, successful and obnoxiously charming but it all seemed to come with a catch. While I admired his passion for his work, he was so crass about the amount of money he earned. He liked giving back-handed compliments, telling me 'I was great in bed from all that experience' with a smirk on his face as he said it. Logan also knew he was hot but he wasn't exactly humble about it. It wasn't enough to put me off seeing him casually though; we both knew that it wouldn't end up anywhere serious. We had some great times together. I remember one particularly steamy night when we went back to my place after a few drinks and shagged standing up against my open window. Logan was also incredibly open-minded; we tried things in bed I'd never done before – and for that adventure, I'm grateful. But I grew tired of his behaviour outside of the bedroom. The straw that broke the camel's back was when, in front of me, he implied to one of his friends that I was 'up for anything'. I don't care how great the sex is, that kind of treatment is never OK. Whether your set-up is casual or not, no one should make you feel expendable or like an object. Although things ended on a sour note, I don't regret my time with Logan and I've had some really great experiences, too. Take Frank*, for instance. I didn't exactly hate his company but he was definitely Mr Wrong – partly because he was a known 'player' and partly because he was so confident that he could get me into bed. When he did, I was equally irritated and excited by it. Dear god, the man had impressive skills. He'd come over, we'd have a fantastic time together and then he'd leave. I didn't find it rude, because Frank never pretended to want anything more – and I didn't either. So, in the end, it was a win-win. I've had many people ask me what the point is in this kind of relationship over the years – and I understand the question. But I'm not saying that you should sleep with every person you loathe or dislike. I just want you to open your mind up to the possibility that not every connection has to serve a purpose beyond pleasure. The trick is to learn what your personal boundaries are. Through trial and error, I've realised what my fundamental requirements are from any lover. They might be the same as yours, they might not. More Trending But it's absolutely OK to have sex just for the sake of sex – so long as you respect the other person in the room. Opposites attract but they don't always fall in love and have a fairytale ending. Every now and then, they irritate the hell out of each other, have amazing sex and go their separate ways. View More » *Names have been changed Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: Jeff Bezos's foam party proves all the money in the world can't buy taste MORE: I'm a man and I don't let myself climax during sex MORE: I've been preparing for nuclear war all my life – this time it's different

Why are people making viral fan camera edits of Kate and William?
Why are people making viral fan camera edits of Kate and William?

Metro

time3 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Metro

Why are people making viral fan camera edits of Kate and William?

Prince William and then Katherine Middleton were the stars of the early 2000s, with paparazzi following their every move. Early morning taxi rides back from clubs in Chelsea, watching the polo together and generally enjoying their early twenties in London, the young couple were hard to miss. Now, almost 20 years after their nights out began gracing front pages, it seems a new generation has fallen in love with William and Kate. 'POV: you were both the IT couple in the 2000s,' TikTok account willyandcath posted, paired with footage of Wills and Kate in their glory days. Their graduation at St Andrew's, William's time at a military academy, cameras flashing as they walked into a black cab late at night – all set to the song 'Paparazzi' by Lady Gaga. The Prince and Princess of Wales are TikTok famous, twenty years after their 'prime'. But why? Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! Psychologist Dr. Lalitaa Suglani told Metro on behalf of Genting Casino: 'Romanticising the past, particularly through nostalgic media, is a form of emotional regulation. 'In uncertain or fast-paced modern times, people often seek comfort in familiar or 'simpler' eras.' 'The early 2000s hold a particular cultural aesthetic that many associate with optimism and pre-digital overload. Fan cams package these memories with soft music and filtered visuals, helping to trigger emotional responses tied to security, belonging, and longing – all connecting people to ways of feeling romanticised.' A fan cam is a video clip of a celebrity or influential figure, edited by fans, often to music and trending sounds, and shared online. They're particularly popular among K-pop fans, who use them to circulate footage fans take of their idols. But they're also silly – some online have made versions of fan cams with politicians and other figures who don't quite fit the 'vibe' of a fan cam. Dr Suglani added that social media has amplified this trend – the feel-good nostalgia can be accomplished through these short videos. Prince William and Princess Kate's early romance is also appealing because it resembles a fairy tale narrative. 'A royal love story that played out publicly, full of relatable ups and downs. From a psychological perspective, we're drawn to parasocial relationships, one-sided connections we form with public figures. 'When older clips resurface, they don't just remind us of the couple, they remind us of our own past selves, our own first loves, or a time when life felt more certain or romantic.' Dr Suglani explained: 'Paparazzi culture fed the public's appetite during the 2000s, creating a sense of 'shared ownership' over their story. More Trending 'This made their relationship feel both personal and accessible. Their royal status adds another layer, symbolism, tradition, and continuity, which taps into our brain's love of narrative and structure. 'Royalty offers familiarity and mythology. When we watch old footage, we're not just watching two people in love, we're reconnecting with a time, a feeling, and a narrative that brings emotional resolution.' It seems our love affair with royal couples isn't going away. Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews@ For more stories like this, check our news page. MORE: Who is Addison Rae? How TikTok fame led to one of the year's biggest pop albums MORE: The 'memeification' of World War Three reveals a troubling truth about society MORE: Inside the 'humiliating' influencer marriage break-up 7 months after the wedding

We would never have got together if our partners hadn't died
We would never have got together if our partners hadn't died

Metro

time6 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Metro

We would never have got together if our partners hadn't died

Standing in our hotel room in Colchester, my girlfriend Emma and I should have been excited for our weekend break. Unfortunately, she was in tears instead. Something I'd said on the journey earlier had clearly upset her and while I can't remember the exact words I used, I do know that it concerned my previous partner and how she did things 'differently' when dealing with close family. Bringing up, let alone comparing, a former lover to your new partner is taboo for any relationship for this exact reason. But for us it was a bit more complex… Emma and I are both widowed. Emma's husband had died of a brain tumour in 2006 and I lost my wife Vikki to breast cancer a year after that. So, though we never mean it to, sometimes the past has a habit of coming back to haunt the present. Love had been the furthest thing from both our minds when our paths crossed in 2008. In fact, it happened completely by chance. Our children were in the same class at school, and we initially met at her daughter's birthday party. Our first conversation was very direct – we talked about other people's reactions to grief and we seemed to click straight away. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! I really liked her – she seemed clever, funny and fearless – and I thought she was gorgeous, too. I could immediately envisage a deeper relationship – it really was in that instant – but I dismissed it because it seemed too easy. How could a lovely, amazing woman who understood me, be a widow, too? On reflection though, it was my own cynicism and confidence that was the problem. After having a tough time for so long, I had to allow myself to accept that something wonderful could happen to me again, that I truly deserved a new and happy life. When we finally did get together, other people were so clearly pleased at our 'Hollywood ending' that they'd take me aside at parties to express how delighted they were. Of course, we were happy too. While grief was obviously a large part of what brought us together in the first place, we were also wrapped up in the newness of the relationship. It was such a relief just to share with someone again, have fun, be normal – simple things like going to the cinema, enjoying coastal walks, playing board games with the kids – it was all such a change after years of hospital treatments, scans and test results; of feeling like your life was on a permanent cliff edge. And yes, it helped that she and I both understood each other in a way our friends and family couldn't – there was nothing wrong with that, on the contrary, it was great. We knew what it felt like getting through those painful early anniversaries – the birthdays and Christmases. We understood how it felt to just get up on an average day and for no apparent reason, feel the sudden crushing weight of loss again. However, a year or so in, an agitating, niggling voice began to rear its head. From there, the inevitable complications, doubts, worries, insecurities – which I suppose had always been there – became more prominent. Was our attraction just a smokescreen? Did we really share more than tragedy and pain and a pretty good feel for the relative merits of oak versus oak-and-copper funeral caskets? Or was death such a big part of our relationship it was all we really had in common? In both cases it wasn't our choice to end our relationships with our previous partners, so how could we ever properly love a new partner when we'd never decided to stop loving the previous one? Then there was the fact that, though we avoided the untidiness and sense of bitterness that clouds some divorces, there was something else just as potent that we had to contend with: The deification of the deceased. You can't compete with a dead person. They don't make mistakes and it's a natural tendency to edit the past – the untidy bits, the poor bits – to paint those gone in a rosy hue somewhere in the region of perfection, and that's exactly what I did in that moment of thoughtlessness in that Colchester hotel room. My Life in a Garden: Love, Loss and Mulch: A Single Dad Seeks Answers in Nature by Carl Gorham (Ireton Press, £8.99) and available from all good book retailers Thankfully, I recognised what I'd done immediately and apologised, and she accepted and we moved past it. One of the things that we've both carried forward from our shared past is the inability to hold grudges. To this day, Emma and I rarely argue and, if we do, one of us stops it almost instantly – not because we're saints but because after everything we've been through, we know this time together is so precious and we'd rather not waste it. That's one of the reasons why in the end we haven't let our double bereavement overwhelm us. That, and the fact that there is so much more to our relationship than our common experience of losing a partner. We make each other happy. We make each other laugh. We're interested in each other, engaged by each other. We miss each other when we're apart. More Trending So, while it's true we wouldn't have got together if our partners hadn't died, we also certainly wouldn't have survived this long if we hadn't shared a lot more. In fact, our relationship, far from being weakened or undermined by our shared history, has in some ways, been strengthened by it. We have a better perspective when everyday things go wrong; we have a sort of measure against which we assess things and once you've looked on helplessly while your partner slips away, it turns out that bar ends up being pretty high. Life is very short, and we don't want to let any more of it slip by. We want to live. We want to flourish. We want to have fun. And that, for everyone, whether widowed or not, is surely the ultimate goal. Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: Map reveals UK areas with highest rates of erectile dysfunction MORE: I was burned by 'check-in chicken' – heed my warning MORE: I'm desperate to lose my virginity but have a panic attack whenever I come close Your free newsletter guide to the best London has on offer, from drinks deals to restaurant reviews.

I'm desperate to lose my virginity but have a panic attack whenever I come close
I'm desperate to lose my virginity but have a panic attack whenever I come close

Metro

time7 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Metro

I'm desperate to lose my virginity but have a panic attack whenever I come close

Virginity may be a social construct, but having sex for the first time can still feel like a huge deal. Often, people are nervous the reality of 'losing it' will be disappointing after building it up in their minds as a life-affirming moment. But for this week's reader, it's far more than a case of the butterflies. Despite the fact she wants to sleep with her boyfriend, her anxiety levels spike whenever they're physically intimate — and she's starting to worry it'll never happen. Read the advice below, but don't forget to check out last week's Sex Column too, from a man who dumped his girlfriend for being too 'vanilla' but is now struggling to perform with his adventurous new lover. I've been seeing the same guy for nearly six months, so you'd assume that we'd have had sex by now. Unfortunately, that's not the case, as I am still a virgin and a bit freaked out about the idea of intercourse. I'm a first-year student and met my boyfriend in the university bar. He's in the year above me and also took a gap year, so he's a little older and more experienced than me. From listening to him talk, he's had a few girlfriends and is sexually quite experienced, whereas I went to an all-girls school and have never had a boyfriend before. I was also brought up in a religious household where sex before marriage is frowned upon, so he knows I'm still a virgin and says he's relaxed about it. My boyfriend has admitted that some girls go for it on the first night, so he thinks it's quite amusing that I'm still holding out. He says he's happy to wait until I'm ready, but I wonder whether he'll give in to temptation if it comes along via another girl. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! I would like to have sex with him at some point, but every time things get a bit passionate between us, I have an attack of nerves and refuse to go any further. I'm really starting to think there's something wrong with me. Honestly, there's nothing wrong with you. Being a virgin isn't something to be ashamed of, especially if it's just because you've made the decision that you want to lose your virginity to someone special. I'm sure there are lots of other people at your university who are virgins too, and never having had sex doesn't make you a freak. However, if you're feeling conflicted because the decision is based on what you've been taught growing up, you would probably benefit from talking it through with a therapist. Time spent on a one-to-one basis with an expert can unravel all the complex emotions you feel about sex. In particular, counselling can help you resolve the separation between what feels good physically, yet feels bad emotionally. There is clearly more to your relationship than just how you interact in a physical sense, so don't worry about your boyfriend being tempted elsewhere. It's very evident that he wants to be with you for many more reasons than sex. More Trending You've said you would like to have sex with your boyfriend, so just remember that the act of making love is nothing to be afraid of and there's a first time for everyone. Meanwhile, there are many kinds of sexual activity to explore, and you don't have to go the whole way until you're ready for it. Sex can be an expression of love, and if your partner is genuinely understanding and kind, he will take pride in making your first time as special as possible. Waiting a while won't harm your relationship, and a great love life will just add to what you already have together. Laura is a counsellor and columnist. View More » Got a sex and dating dilemma? To get expert advice, send your problem to MORE: I told my date my sexual preferences and was immediately ghosted MORE: Video games are great for my mental and physical wellbeing – Reader's Feature MORE: I'm allowed to date other women – my partner isn't

How I stopped feeling insecure when my partner didn't orgasm
How I stopped feeling insecure when my partner didn't orgasm

Metro

time20-06-2025

  • Health
  • Metro

How I stopped feeling insecure when my partner didn't orgasm

Looking up at Barry's* face, I noticed a bead of sweat running down his forehead. We'd been having sex in the same position for nearly 30 minutes; Barry looked exhausted and ready to give up – and he wasn't the only one. But I didn't want to be the one to throw the towel in, so I waited patiently until he himself finally admitted what we both knew – the orgasm wasn't coming. We'd tried a lot of different things to help Barry climax – oral sex, mutual masturbation and a variety of positions – but nothing had worked. You might think this would be a crisis – an event that prompted some serious introspection. But we had known each other for a while and weren't bothered. 'Don't stress it,' I told him, adding, 'Next time'. And that's what I want men and women to realise – it's simply not a big deal, for either party, not to finish every time. While it is true that there's an 'orgasm gap' between genders – with women having far fewer orgasms during sex – it is equally true that men can also struggle to 'get there'. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! A 2022 study showed that only 30% of women have an orgasm every time they have sex, and while the number for men was far higher at 61%, there still was far from a perfect success rate. And there are lots of reasons for that, from stress, to medication side effects, or simply just personal preference. Nowadays, I know not to take it badly if a man can't climax, but back in my early 20s, I wasn't quite so informed. Like with Derek*, a man I was sleeping with back then. He was tall and strong – and had a sexual stamina like nothing I'd ever experienced. There was just one issue: He took a very long time to orgasm, if he did at all. I'm not shaming my former lover but you see, Derek was large in more ways than one, meaning our hours-long sessions would start to get pretty painful for me. Because our situation was quite new and we were quite young, we didn't talk about this in any big detail. However, Derek acknowledged that he knew that it took him 'forever' to ejaculate. To borrow his own words, 'It's always been this way for me, I just need more time than most guys.' Eventually, the fact that Derek was so at ease with his own personal orgasm gap made me relax, too. Sometimes he came, sometimes he didn't – but it didn't stop us from having great sex. If my vagina felt a bit sensitive after a while, we would swap penetrative sex for something else or stop altogether. But not every experience has been quite this easy. I've been with men who went cold if I even mentioned them struggling to orgasm, even if I reassured them we were having great sex. Some of them didn't acknowledge that anything was amiss, while others just shrugged it off without speaking. Of course, if you are discussing someone else's orgasms, no matter their gender, it's crucial not to sound accusatory or judgemental. Stay away from phrases like 'Why can't you cum?' or, 'It's me, isn't it?'. That's easier said than done. Believe me, I understand that it can be stressful and anxiety-inducing if you are giving someone your A game and there's no 'end result'. But remember this: Some people, men included, are happy just enjoying the sensations of sex and consider this a 'win' in itself. Secondly, and much more importantly, don't assume you know why someone doesn't orgasm. One ex once told me that he'd had a long day at work and he really enjoyed our sex, but he was too distracted that night to climax. Another lover had been working hard outdoors all day, and in a number of ways simply didn't have the juice. My current boyfriend doesn't always orgasm during sex either – but there's no nefarious reason behind it. Sometimes, Alex prefers for just me to climax, because he finds it as rewarding as if he'd cum himself. Other times, we both like having lazy, slow sex that is about us feeling close and connected, not rushing to an imaginary finish line. Despite being quite confident in myself and our sex life, even now I admit that I have occasionally wondered if perhaps I've not done 'enough' to help him reach the 'Big O'. There's no shame in feeling insecure – it happens to all us, even the bold, confident sex columnists of the world. But when this happens to me, I do the same thing every time: I ask Alex for reassurance – and he confirms what I already know. Him choosing not to pursue an orgasm at all costs has nothing to do with my sexual skills or attractiveness. More Trending Nothing is 'wrong'. Like me, he sometimes just 'doesn't feel like having an orgasm'. It's all about communication. So let's all stop worrying, and enjoy our sex lives, whatever the outcome. View More » Names have been changed Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: I can be myself in the UK – but now I can't go home MORE: JK Rowling has alienated trans people – and now her famous friends MORE: 'I was the first person to survive rabies without a vaccination'

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store