How to choose which of the gentlemen in the club will be the most chivalrous choker?

HOPING to get choked to climax tonight, but unsure which lucky chap will be the most adept at strangling you without accidentally murdering you?

It’s a fine line to walk. After all, you’re literally inviting asphyxiation so you can come harder, which is something of a risk. Nonetheless you’d like the hands around your windpipe to be gentle. Here’s how to find a prince of breathplay:

The one with delicate hands

If you spot a man with the kind of beautiful, slender hands that would seem equally fitting playing Beethoven on a baby grand or moisturising, make your advances. With those delicate mitts around your windpipe, the asphyxiation will be next-level. Avoid manicured fingernails, which stray a little too far into serial killer territory.

The one who’s thought about what he’s wearing

Yellow shoes? A neatly ironed short-sleeved shirt? Mismatched socks? These are the telltale signs of a try-hard and it’s always a bonus to land yourself a choker who’s fastidious. But talk through your requirements beforehand, because you can’t shout instructions with closed airways in the way you can for cunnilingus.

The one propping up the bar

You’re aiming for that sweet spot: drunk enough that some of the brute force will have drained from his hands, but not so drunk that he won’t be able to get it up. And a beau who’s withdrawn from the fray will be so grateful for company he won’t balk at requests that veer a little close to serious crimes of violence.

The one with the intricate facial hair

Scan the dance floor until you find someone with the kind of pencil-thin goatee that would make Kanye West want to switch barber. If this guy can achieve that level of precision with a razor, surely he must be well-coordinated and good at gauging pressure. Steer clear of mutton chops – not because of the choking, because nobody can pull them off.

The one who can’t dance and he knows it

A man whose dance face screams ‘kill me now’ is your ideal candidate: self-consciousness is a fine trait in a choker. It’s that constant questioning of his own skills and fear he may be getting it wrong that will ensure he throttles you in exactly the gallant way you have requested.

The one who won’t choke you

A ghastly pick if you want to be choked. But maybe he isn’t just gaslighting you and, as the untimely death of Michael Hutchence showed, the asphyxiation isn’t worth the orgasm. He could be a keeper, as in keep you alive.

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Six ways to look fucked off in a… waterproof

BRITISH summer has splashed down, holidays are happening, and coastlines are choked with families fighting horizontal sleet. How do you wear your waterproof? 

Branded

North Face, Berghaus, Mammut or Rab, if you’re wearing good outdoor gear made for mountains then you’re wearing a complementary aura of smugness at being the driest bitch on the beach. Shrugging off those raindrops like they’re harsh words online, baby!

Branded, tier two

Though the professionals make it look bad. It’s Cornwall not the Cairngorms, loser. Rocking up in a Peter Storm or a Craghoppers shames those zipped-up fuckers with their overdressed Gore-Tex; it may be wet but we don’t have to live that way, dude. Of course it’ll have seeped through to your shoulders after 45 minutes, but that’s hot.

DryRobe

Waterproof on the outside, towelling on the inside, chic like Sam Cam cuckolding her husband in his shepherd’s hut, the DryRobe is so now it’s almost a second ago. Rush into one and strut the Polperro cobbles before the world spots you can’t copyright a concept that simple and they’re £35 up the middle of LIDL!

Safety bright

The day’s grey but you’re day-glo, walking along that clifftop path into the very teeth of the hurricane in vibrant orange, the family close behind in eye-burning powder blue, cognition-blocking green and pink hotter than Barbie’s labia. Who needs the sun when there’s a rainbow here on earth?

Waxed

Go for country gent style with a waxed Barbour and you’ll be as crusty and comfortable as the castle you’re visiting to get out of the bloody rain! Which is to say not at all, because the aristocratic sneer at comfort and your jacket hasn’t been waxed since you bought the motherfucker in 2012 and lets in water like a convertible Vectra!

A disposable rain poncho

Don’t want to hide your drip when it’s dripping wet? A fully transparent disposable rain poncho – it’s a bag with a hood and armholes, putting the macro in microplastics – lets your fit shine through while the water slides off. Giving that Alton Towers vibe wherever you are, and lets the sweat do what the rain theoretically can’t!