I kissed a Tory and licked out a Lib Dem: Sir Keir Starmer’s political sex diary

I HAVEN’T just kissed a Tory. I’ve had depraved no-holes-barred f**k sessions with like-minded swingers of every political persuasion. Read my sex diary if you dare:

19 Jan. A Tory MP gave me the eye in the Commons. Motion read and we’re upstairs f**king like bunnies. So not only have I kissed a Tory, I’ve done one bent over my desk, like the sort of reasonable Labour leader Rupert Murdoch could give his backing to.

12 Feb. I’m prowling Parliament Square for pussy as usual, and see a demo by nurses. I turn on the old Starmer sexual magnetism and tempt them into a five-way. Explain I’d give them a pay rise if an inflationary wage spiral wouldn’t harm my fiscal credibility.

11 March. Picked up a chick at a bus stop. Big fan of Boris. So once again I’ve ‘kissed a Tory’, or rather jizzed in her hair.

20 May. Commons debate about Ukraine. Hook up with a Lib Dem MP and go back to her office. Hardcore even for a libertine like me – dildos, role play, gimp masks. Bloody centrists act like they’re so vanilla then they whip out an anal intruder.

1 July. Up North for a by-election, at a loose end so I order in coke and a hooker. Doing a line off her tits when she asks if I can get her Nigel Farage’s autograph! Difficult explaining he’s not an MP when I’m about to blow my beans, but it shows I appeal to UKIP voters.

15 Sept. I swing both ways so I pick up a closeted Tory MP in the gents at Regent’s Park.  He’s all for feeding migrants to the lions at safari parks. Could play well with the Red Wall.

8 Oct. Dogging night. Keep asking Angela but she’s not keen. Odd, she doesn’t seem sexually repressed. Doggers have turned against the Conservatives, so I can’t shag a Tory even if I want to, but I do bang a morbidly obese woman against a Fiat Punto.

20 Nov. I’ve messed up big time. Some Corbynite chick turned up at my office calling me a sell-out. She was cute so we f**ked. Me, the leader of the Labour party, shagging a hard left-winger. If this gets out I’m finished.

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A sneeze is one-eighth of an orgasm: sex myths you believed as a teen

YOUR towering obsession with sex as a teenager was only matched by the depth of your ignorance about it. This is the outlandish bollocks you believed: 

Men think about sex every seven seconds

Even the most sexually-frustrated teenage boy struggles with this level of obsession. If men’s minds were hijacked by sex eight times every minute how would they ever focus enough to fry a sausage, drive a Nissan Micra or create a global system of patriarchal oppression?

A sneeze is one-eighth of an orgasm

It happens dramatically, loudly, and you usually need a tissue to deal with the aftermath, but all other similarities are horseshit. If it were true why wouldn’t hay fever sufferers spend all summer lying by pollen-heavy fields sneezing frenziedly into socks?

Wanking makes you blind

Outside of freak incidents involving a particularly effusive outburst targeted directly at your cornea, no chance. As most teenagers privately researched and proved. It’s a lie your parents let you overhear and believe so they could cut down on how often they had to change your sheets.

You can’t get pregnant from sex in water

Passed on almost as advice, as if when you were in a situation where penetration was about to occur without any condoms to hand, you could simply run a bath or plunge into a river. Supposedly, the sperm would get washed out of the vaginal canal with the penis acting as a rudimentary plunger or sink snake, depending on arousal levels.

Blowjobs involve blowing

A simple enough misunderstanding, given the name. However, always awkward to engage in oral sex with a partner who hasn’t been disabused of this fallacy. At best a difficult conversation; at worse a trip to A&E with an inflated urethra. The government should step in with a campaign to rename them ‘suckjobs’ to avoid this confusion.