More Unlimited Free Porn

There’s been some nice feedback at FleshBot on my Unlimited Free Porn article. Glad I could help!

Christmas Blowjobs

I missed this at Christmas, but it’s too funny not to link up anyway. From Hoot Island, an essay on Christmas blowjobs:

Ladies, does this sound familiar?

You try and try to ask your man what he wants for Christmas. You hint and you wheedle and you watch for signs, but no matter how you ask he just shrugs and says some some smartass comment like “A blowjob, why?”

Isn’t that just like a guy? You ask him a serious question and he answers with some lame toss-off answer like that. Well, speaking for guys around the world, I’m here to reveal the sincere and honest truth:

We’re serious. We really do want a blowjob.

There follows a long and amusing list of arguments in favor of Christmas blowjobs, my favorite of which is: “Every time you swallow, an angel gets her wings.”

Constipation At The Muzzle Of An Airbrush

I’m a pop culture illiterate, so it doesn’t surprise me that I’ve never heard of Michelle Branch or her music. That notwithstanding, Diablo from Pussy Ranch made me howl with laughter when she wrote:

This month’s Maxim cover features a half-naked Michelle Branch shielding her tender young breasts from a Photoshopped pillar of leaping flames. “Barbecutie!” the cover cleverly blares. I’ll bet earnest little Michelle Branch never thought she’d be likened to a McRib on the cover of a lad mag. She can strum a D chord, after all! She’s better than this, ostensibly! She wrote the theme song to Sorority Life, not that I pay attention to such things!
…
However, either Michelle’s asscrack has been airbrushed into nonexistence by Maxim’s art department, or she is, in fact, lacking a cleft between her buttocks. If the latter scenario is true, then we can assume that Michelle Branch cannot pass solid waste. That’s sad. Imagine you’re in the studio, recording your latest opus, and those knob-twiddlers from Maverick are pestering you. And all you can think is: I need to crap so bad. I wish I hadn’t loaned my colostomy bag to Madonna.

I suppose it’s that kind of urgency that creates truly exquisite, D chord-driven albums.

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

Brrr….

A Mouthful of Meat In Her Fridge

And one box of Ramen in her cupboards, I don’t doubt:

Humiliations Galore

It’s hard to imagine a more embarrassing situation, especially given the impossibility of fleeing the scene:

A RANDY couple on a holiday jet were cheered by 250 passengers when they were exposed bonking in the loo.

The lovers sneaked into a tiny cubicle during a four-hour flight home from Tenerife.

When the 757’s cabin crew noticed it had been engaged for more than 15 minutes, a steward went to investigate.

After hearing grunts and groans through the door, he decided to unlock it from the outside and revealed the naked couple in mid-romp.

One passenger by the loo said: “There was a woman facing the wall and her companion standing behind with his trousers round his ankles.

“When they realised someone had opened the door, they just froze.

“And when it dawned on them that half the aeroplane was watching, their faces went beetroot red.

There were at least 60 of us in stitches. Even the three cabin staff burst out laughing.”

The couple in their late thirties then got a round of applause as they made their way back to their seats.

From The Sun via J. Orlin Grabbe.

Hands On (In?) Sex Education

Tristan Taormino writes of a class she gave at a swinger convention in the Big Easy:

The transforming moment for me came in my class on G-spot stimulation and female ejaculation when over a hundred people crammed themselves into a small room to hear me talk. I took advantage of the venue and offered a hands-on section at the end of the class. The next thing I knew, women were dropping their drawers, lube was being passed around, and I was moving from one pussy to the next. One woman in her sixties confessed that orgasms eluded her most of the time. When I got done with her, she was coming like a banshee, and her husband was taking notes on my technique. I located the G-spots of more than two dozen women, and made sure to show their partners how to find them.

Nothing like getting right to heart of the matter!

Condemnators Redux

When I enabled comments, I explained “I welcome your comments, but I’m simply not interested in creating a forum for haters, condemnators, repressive creeps, and the like.”

I hate to have to repeat this, but there’s been a few comments consisting of nothing more than condemnatory phrases like “that’s sick” or “that’s wrong.” I’ve been deleting them along with all the spammy “come visit my site” comments, but I’d prefer not to have to do that. Empty condemnation has no place here. I simply refuse to let ErosBlog become a forum for condemning other people’s kinks.

That is all.

Because Women Like Furs

I had to share this magazine cover. Terrible Oriental Mink Torturers, yah baby!

Unlimited Free Porn

You might think that for a guy running a sex blog, I’m oddly reluctant to link to actual porn sites. Of course, there is a reason for this; too many porn sites treat surfers badly. Popups, hostile downloads, link skimming, and blind/misleading links abound. It’s a jungle out there.

But: Isn’t it my job to guide you, my readers, to the few places in the jungle that are actually worth visiting?

As it turns out, there are sites on the internet that specialize is linking to huge piles of free porn. Called “TGPs” or Thumbnail Gallery Posts, these sites consist of link lists to advertising pages for pay sites. The pay sites themselves may suck, and often do, but the advertising pages (called galleries) usually have an enticing collection of free photographs or movies.

Now, most TGPs treat surfers like dirt. The worst offense is link skimming; these TGPs will list an enticing collection of galleries, but when you click the link, a script grabs you and dumps you on some other page entirely (usually another TGP, sometimes somewhere in pop-up-hell land). Links which lie about their destination are another common problem. Popups are also common, as is deliberately-bad page design so that you’ll click on the ads because you can’t find the content.

Fortunately, there are exceptions. The Hun’s Yellow Pages is the most, and most justly, famous: it’s a huge daily list of descriptive text links to free porn pages. The Hun has been at this since the internet was a puppy, and his page is as clean as a whistle. And there are others. I look for TGPs with frequent updates, an honest text link or thumbnail picture that shows you what you are getting, lack of popups on the TGP page, and, of course, a good selection of links to free porn. But most of all, I look for TGPs which respect their visitors and are surfer friendly.

Having found a few such over the years, I’ve decided to list half a dozen over in the blogroll bar under the heading “Piles of Free Porn”. The list may grow, and it will likely change from time to time. Enjoy!

A Christmas Carol

Some wonderful orgasm faces in this hilarious musical vibrator advertisement. “O come, all ye faithful…“

2021 update: Flash is dead, long live Flash! View the old flash file via emulation at this Internet Archive page.

No More Wet Spot

Your first post-Christmas consumer purchasing tip: Luv Linen. “Luv Linen is a super absorbent, waterproof, reusable, washable pad designed to keep your sheets, bed, furniture and wherever else you may be clean and dry during sex.” The sales copy is entertaining:

Luv Linen is unique because it provides protection and peace of mind for love’s messy moments. It gives you permission to enjoy the wettest sex ever and let your love flow without hesitation.

But the product actually looks practical and useful, notwithstanding the moist prose being used to sell it.

Tentacle Yaoi

And now, back to business. The anonymous link contribution of the day: Tentacle Yaoi. And what is yaoi, you may ask? Indeed, you may:

What is yaoi? Yaoi is a woman’s genre of manga (comic books) and short stories, produced by female artists and writers for the enjoyment of female readers. It’s a fantasy form which focuses on the romantic, emotional and above all sexual relationships of guys together.

Huh? That’s right. M/M. Men in Love. Homosexuality, homoeroticism, platonic love. Whatever you want to call it. Two Guys.

So it’s gay porn for women? Nope. It’s a female fantasy of what’s sexually attractive, not a gay male one. Yaoi embodies the (surprisingly common) female notion that m/m relationships are the stuff of high romance and beauty and true love and angst and impossibly wonderful sex five times an hour. Not surprisingly, yaoi gives real gay men the giggles.

For a start, the first requirement is that all the men be better-looking than any real man can possibly be, like the heroes of Japanese cartoon series (anime). The relationships are given a highly romantic slant that appeals to a lot of women, but rarely to men. Yaoi emphasizes the emotional side of things as much as the physical, and the stories happen in a very unrealistic version of the real world. Yaoi men tend to have impossible anatomy and very unlikely psychology. Silver hair, purple eyes, and a tendency to self-mutilation as an expression of love are not uncommon.

I learn something new every day. Who knew this sex blogging business would turn out to be such a tremendous broadener of the mind?

The Nymph In My Net: The Net Tightens A Lot

And how! Yesterday while we are on the phone, suddenly she says “Ow! Hey! It’s stuck! Ow! I hurt my hand trying to pull it off!”

“What’s stuck? What’s wrong?”

“The chain! The chain from your present! I was playing with it, and somehow it got around my right wrist, and now the lock’s closed and it’s stuck!”

(This is technically known as the “Doctor, I don’t know how that got in there, I was holding it in my hand and then I slipped in the shower and fell on it” explanation.)

Of course I’m laughing so hard my teeth hurt. Also, I’m thinking fast. “Do you remember the combination?”

“No!” (This turns out, sadly, not to be true.)

I quickly tell her a combination. One digit removed from the actual. Visions of saying “Oh, gosh, you must have reset the combination while you were playing, now you’ll have to try all ten thousand with your left hand while I tease encourage you” begin to dance in my head. I envision hours of high quality family fun.

Alas, she was not listening to my misinformation.

“Oh, there it is! I got it off. Gosh, I was getting worried there for a minute. Good thing I remembered the… HEY! You gave me the wrong combination!!!”

God, that was fun.

But the real fun of the day was her confirming her tickets. January 10. Best Christmas present ever. Cannot wait.

The Nymph In My Net: Unwrapping

No, not unwrapping her, you horndogs, not yet anyway; that’s still on track for a much-anticipated day in January. Move along now, nothing to see here. Geez!

No, after Christmas Eve celebrations with family, I called to give her the combination to her tamper-resistant present. I’m sure the tender scene looked something like this:

Then I opened my present from her, and began to pull out…wait for it…socks. Yes, socks. I believe she will need a spanking for that. That, or I’ll have to start teasing her by calling her “Grandma”. Which do you suppose she’d prefer?

Although they are, in fact, very nice socks.

Fortunately, the socks were only packing material for a very nice bottle of usquebaugh, so I got a good laugh and then had a delicious drink. Thus was a good time had by all, and the merriest of Christmas Eves for me in many a year.

As for that other unwrapping: the wait is killing me.

Merry Christmas, One And All

It’s Christmas morning, snow is falling outside my window, and my thoughts are as pure as ever:

Santa Claus is Coming

No, really…he’s coming!

Thanks to Attu for the link.

Relationship Wisdom

Sarah at Submissive Reflections has some pertinent observations on relationships, wrapped up in an ironic anecdote. There’s more than this long quote, so read it all.

Christine’s husband, Dan, arrived and he kissed her and she fended him off, complaining about her makeup, he told her she looked beautiful and she told him not to be so silly. She complained about him being late and that everyone had had to wait for him, even though we were all still waiting on Mac. Dan mumbled an apology and stood off to his wife’s side like a chastised child.

Mac walked in a good ten minutes later, greeting everyone noisily and asking what they were waiting for. He put his hands on my waist, kissed my lips and told me I looked delicious. I grinned up at Him and said thankyou. I was wearing the dress He had suggested, a short black dress. I had added stockings, high heels and hadn’t bothered with panties. Mac knew without me having to tell Him. He boomed out an apology for being late and grabbed my hand and led everyone to the table. He made sure I was sitting beside Him.

I watched as Dan trailed along behind his wife and as she told him where to sit. Menus arrived and while everyone was reading Christine announced loudly to Dan that he had better not order anything to fattening, he had to watch his weight. She continued through the meal to make fun of Dan’s receding hair line, tell everyone he had not gotten the recent promotion that he had applied for which is why they couldn’t afford a new car and generally put him down every chance she got. I felt so sad for him but he didn’t react to it at all.

Mac was His usual boisterous self. He had the whole table in tears laughing at stories about Christmas at His parent’s house, keeping everyone entertained. His hand kept sneaking under the table and up my skirt to feel how wet I was, which of course only made me wetter. My hand kept sneaking under the table to feel how hard He was, which of course only made Him stay hard. He kept leaning into my ear to whisper wicked things about where He wanted His cock and I kept whispering back about what I would do to His cock when it was there. W/we were keeping each other close to the edge of orgasm.

After dinner I excused myself to go to the bathroom and Christine came with me. She was touching up her makeup when I went to wash my hands and she told me how lucky I was to have Mac, as He was so male. It was all I could do to bite my lip so I didn’t tell her that maybe Dan would be more male if she stopped treating him like a child. I just smiled and went back to the table and kissed Mac’s cheek.
…
I wish I could say that Christine and Dan are the only couple I know like this, but they are not. I see it often enough for it to bother me. You don’t have to be submissive to show your partner respect. You don’t need to lower your eyes or be a sexual slave to accept the gift of their compliments graciously and show them that you care about them.

You could swap the genders (and discount Sarah’s submissive perspective, if it bothered you) and this would still be wisdom.

Springtime Frolic

OK, in case any of you failed to notice, this is the second day in a row that’s longer than the one before it. The winter solstice is behind us, the sun has been freed from its cave, and we now have this to look forward to:

Dancing Girl

Here’s a link featuring video of an impossibly sweet partial striptease by a young lady for (presumably) her boyfriend. She addresses the camera at the end, warning him not to share. Alas, he appears not to have been worthy of her trust, or of her for that matter.

I’ll confess the link title and on-page caption (terming her a “dancing slut”) make me grumpy. There’s nothing slutty about her sweet gesture, and there’s no reason to think she’s one of these women (like several on my blogroll) who are knowingly laying claim to whatever positive connotations the word has for them. It’s an excellent piece of video with a crappy subtitle. Grrr.

Kink From The East

A new (to me) blog called Japaneze (dead link removed) — full of kinky links and small observations, like this one:

Latex examination gloves – every bedroom should have a box. Sadly, some people have a latex allergy and so miss out on the pleasure of rolling on a glove, letting the latex grip your skin before rubbing vaseline on the fingers and probing into a deep dark and tight hole. You know, using latex sometimes just makes it easier for both partners.

Jingle Balls

Is your Christmas season shaping up to be merry and, er, gay? If so, you won’t want to miss this Christmas greeting from BJ’s Gay Porno Crazed Ramblings.

State of Orgasmic Emergency

You’ll remember the recent dildo bust in Texas. Well, Violet Blue has the solution:

Sell a vibrator, go to jail. That’s the message Texas authorities are sending people who dare to offer consenting adults tools to enhance sexual pleasure — buzzing pink plastic battery-operated novelties, natch. Joanne Webb, a former fifth-grade teacher and mother of three, was in a county court in Cleburne, Texas, on Monday to answer obscenity charges for selling the vibrator to undercover narcotics officers posing as a dysfunctional married couple in search of a sex aid. Webb, a saleswoman for Passion Parties of Brisbane, faces a year in jail and a $4,000 fine if convicted. “What I did was not obscene,” Webb said. “We have a real problem with drugs in our schools,” she said, “and they’re using our narcotics officers to entrap me for selling a vibrator.”

Obviously, a bust of this nature sends a call of alarm to us in the dildo-slinging biz — clearly, Texas authorities have never experienced the mind-bending, fist-clenching, hallucination-inducing orgasms made possible by a trusty and reliable vibrator. I’m answering that call by declaring a State of Orgasmic Emergency for all Texas authorities, and urging readers to participate in an Orgasms for Texas Authorities Drive. I urge each reader to buy one vibe, and give it (whatever you do, don’t sell it to them) to the needy Narcotics Task Force at the Johnson County Sheriff’s Office, Administration Building 1102 E. Kilpatrick, Cleburne TX, 76021. Just think — three pennies a day for one year (like the year Joanne Webb might spend in jail) could be all it takes to give an inexpensive Low Rider and end this tragic state of emergency.

Violet has more commentary on her blog. But I can’t recommend that you buy the vibes from Violet’s employer, because those usually-worthy wenches refused to include her suggestion in their marketing letter, which she writes.

Sweet On The Tongue

I assume that this is totally innocent. However, when I saw it in a store just now I just about died laughing. Ladies and gentlemen, I present berry-flavored Rimming Sugar:

For your rimming pleasure, also available in citrus.

Lesbian Dungeon

This is just too funny. Plus, for some reason it makes me want to start singing “If I Had A Hammer”:

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Birth Erotica

I am neither qualified nor inclined to comment on the contents of this page, which consists of the following introduction and about ten more anecdotes after the one quoted:

According to Ann Douglas and John R. Sussman, M.D., authors of the book The Unofficial Guide to Having a Baby, a single orgasm is thought to be 22 times as relaxing as the average tranquilizer. When you add to this the fact that the average vagina widens 2″ during sexual arousal, it only makes sense to fantasize, masturbate or make love in labor. The following women did just that.

“When Johnny got home around 12:30, we relaxed together on the couch. He breathed with me through contractions and was verbally encouraging. His loving presence was an important part of my opening up. By now we were both aware of the sensuality surrounding birth. Creating this child was an intimate act of love between the two of us, and birthing in a loving way simply and naturally completed that act. As a result of healing, I was much more able to ‘open up’ during this labor. I had finally become able to make my vagina wet and loose by fantasizing about making love to my husband, so while I labored, I graphically visualized having sex. John and I both welcomed the idea of actually having sex during labor (in fact John offered to perform oral sex on me right in the middle of it…what a man!), but I just happened to be focused elsewhere at the time. In the days preceding I had masturbated frequently. I found this to be an intensely pleasurable, loving, and appropriate preparation for our baby’s birth. Laboring in the environment of my own home was crucial to accepting these feelings….The spreading apart of my muscles and bones and the joy of voluntarily allowing my body to do its work was both arousing and exhilarating.”

-From Angelica’s Birth Story by Laurie Annis Morgan

And to think, not a dolphin in sight.

Slavegirls In Chains

I do so love a provocative blog entry title. Here’s another one of those old French postcard style images from the turn of the (previous) century:

The sad thing is, they look bored….

Doctor, I Have This Friend….

A couple of days ago I got a request for help. Someone was trying without success to find the link to this cute kitty cat in my archives. But the thing that made me giggle was the disclaimer that came with the request: “I swear it’s not about some personal kink of mine!”

Retro Sex Movies

From the Internet Archives collection of downloadable movies, some gems. For instance: Co-Ed Secrets. Or search on sexuality for a bizarre collection of ancient sex-ed films.

Thanks to Kaitlyn the Phone Girl for the links.

Gingerotica

Consult your herbals, ladies and gentlemen! Is it true that ginger is an aphrodisiac?

Buried in the links in a couple of recent posts over at Spanking Blog (where the discussion focuses on the painful effects of ginger when used in BDSM play) comes this startling assertion in an article called Figging: The Art of Anal Ginger Root Play:

Ginger also has a property that puts it far ahead of any ginger substitutes. So it is said, the juice of the root has the ability to cause incredible sexual desires. I have had subs begin to sob, begging to have something inserted into their female opening and to have orgasm. The reaction is tenfold if the ginger juice comes in contact with the clitoris. Cut a small slice of ginger, making sure it has one flat side. Place this side directly onto the clitoris and hold it there. Depending on anatomy, some women will be able to retain the slice on their own without assistance.

Apply ginger to the genitalia while the ginger plug is in place and watch to see if it brings the pleasure you both seek. I have experienced some of the most stunning results with submissives using this technique. I don’t have a perfect scientific explanation as to why ginger cause such an effect but suffices to say it works.

Update: Intrepid experimenters, check Figging.com for your instructions, then experiment and (please!) report back.

A Good Line

Philip at Hot Action came up with a good line:

“At some point in your life, you’re gonna want a guy to do whatever he wants with you. It might as well be me, instead of some chump who can’t think of anything good.”

Strange Fetishes

It will come as no surprise to readers of this sex blog (given some of the pictures and links that get posted here) that there are as many startling fetishes in the world as (it sometimes seems) there are people. Nor is ErosBlog the place to come to find condemnation of any of them (fetishes or people), although as to some (fetishes) this blog remains silent for the sake of my own undisturbed digestion. The next story, from Rebel With A Clue of the Anarchobabes, caught my eye because it involves a fetish I’d never heard of, and a stunningly dickish approach to satisfying it:

When I was just out of high school, I hitched a ride with this older guy in a nice car and a suit. Okay, so tell me I’m crazy, but he seemed okay. And he was, I guess. He was a lawyer, very respectable. We ended up going out a couple of times and old mom really liked him. I got the finally you’re going out with the RIGHT kind of guy rant. I could just see her planning my wedding to a fuckin lawyer. And he seemed okay, except for being that sort of guy who tells you you shouldn’t order steak well done and who tries to make you feel bad if you don’t listen to La Boheme instead of Rage Against the Machine.

So the first couple of times we go out, he’s everything mom thinks he is. But then one night we go to his house and we start getting hot. And it’s okay. I admit it, it’s more than okay, I’m getting ready to jump out of my skin, not only my clothes. And he starts peeling me. Then he gets to my bra. And he takes it off. And he STOPS AND TURNS THE LIGHT UP AND READS THE FUCKIN LABLE!

I have these breasts, you know. Pretty good ones. But he read that lable and got this big dum grin and says, “That’s exactly the size I thought you were!” And then sort of rubs the bra together in his palms and smiles in this weird way. Then he tells me to get dressed and sends me home! That’s all he wanted, to find out my bra size. I never saw the guy again and you bet that was OK with me.

You know, now that I think about it, I have heard of that fetish before. Who among us hasn’t known someone with a fetish for being right, at all costs?

One For The Ladies

Women who don’t like typical crappy porn being quite common, ErosBlog has from time to time recommended atypical, non-crappy porn as being of potential interest to such women and to the men who want to watch porn with them. Don Lobo Tiggre reviews Candida Royalle’s “Stud Hunters” in the latest issue of Doing Freedom!, and recommends it as just such a movie.

The review is also noteworthy for the following observation, which might have been cribbed from the ErosBlog Credo, if there but were one:

“I also think the world would be a healthier, happier place if more people could relax about sex, if more people could remember (or learn) that sex is good, clean, healthy fun.”

Just so.

The Nymph In My Net: Our Cauliflower Ears

The Nymph and I spend so much time on the phone that her flat rate unlimited minutes long distance calling plan “accidentally” turned her service off (until she complained) for using too many minutes. I am not making this up.

Much of this conversation is fairly prosaic talk about the daily fabric of our lives, and yet we both treasure it highly. I haven’t been sure quite why, and I haven’t questioned it, I’ve just enjoyed it. I should have asked Halley, who knows the value of “Talking About Simple Stuff“:

I was talking with someone today about how much you need someone in your life to just talk to about all the simple stuff that happens during your day. There’s really something satisfying and necessary about the “Honey, I’m home,” conversations couples take for granted at the end of the day.

Exactly.

Two Quicky Links

Because their link sleuths work while I sleep. How could I have missed elf porn (dead link removed)? Missing the hardcore Japanese gay bondage art is perhaps a little more understandable.

Dangerous Texas Criminal Sells Marital Aids

Yup. Up to a year in jail and $4000 in fines for having a Passion Party in a private home.

Sex is dangerous stuff, folks, especially when you let legislators get their hands on it.

The Prettiest Hitchhiker

Normally I do not stop for hitchhikers. However, exceptions can be made for those wearing suitable attire:

OK, OK, if you pressed me I suppose I might concede that it’s, uh, “barely” possible she’s out on the street in that outfit for some purpose other than hitchhiking. But I’d much prefer to think she just needs to get to Omaha in a hurry.

Flying The Friendlier Skies

A quote:

“Every time I fly and am forced to remove my shoes, I’m grateful Richard Reid is not known as the Underwear Bomber.

Douglas Manuel, quoted in USA Today, 13 March 2003

Agreed. Unless, perhaps, one could be guaranteed of flying with this flight crew.

Nude Protester Wearing a Veil

Here’s a pretty image from a Brazilian protest against police brutality:

Something about the head scarf and veil makes this image more interesting than pure nudity would be.

Thanks to Naked Protesters for the picture.

Don’t Be A Dick

When I got to college, one of the two poor sophomores assigned to my freshman dorm to inject some sanity thereinto called us clueless freshmen together and spake thusly:

“In a lot of these freshmen entries, they have all kinds of rules. I don’t like rules. So we are only going to have one. Don’t be a dick.”

And we mostly weren’t, and we had a great time. The moral and political lesson I took from that, namely that small communities don’t really need more than one rule, is possibly the most valuable thing I learned in college. Thanks, Josh!

By popular demand, I’ve decided to install a commenting facility here at ErosBlog. However, I’d like to ask you all to remember Josh’s rule. I work at keeping the tone here relentlessly sex-positive and unwaveringly non-judgmental. I may slip up, but that’s the goal. I welcome your comments, but I’m simply not interested in creating a forum for haters, condemnators, repressive creeps, and the like. Lively debate, at times, is to be expected. But nastiness and anti-sex messages (and personal attacks of any sort, on anyone) will probably be deleted summarily. Be nice and play nice, please?

Thank you.

“…Your Broomstick Has Stains On It”

The alternatively-religioned among you (and heck, anybody else with a sense of humor) will enjoy Lilith’s “You know you’re a horny Pagan if…” list, complete with a lovely photo illustration starring the author:

You Know You’re A Horny Pagan If…

… your magick wand vibrates
… your candles are spherical and come in sets of 2
… your magickal oils are flavored
… you think all magick is sex magic
… your altar has silk sheets
… your chalice is fur-lined (think about it)
… your altar candles are anatomically correct
… your binding rituals involve handcuffs
… your magic wands have French ticklers on the ends
… your High Priest/ess wears a leather mask
… the wax from your candles ends up on your nipples
… you consider KY Jelly an altar tool
… your chants contain phrases like “Oh my God/dess!”, “I’m coming!”, or “You’re gonna stick that where?!”
… you’re skyclad all the time
… your broomstick has stains on it
… the white stuff on your altar candles isn’t wax
… your book of shadows includes the Kama Sutra
… you have a cigarette after every ritual
… your ceremonial/ritual candles are studded
… your ritual robes look like a French Maid costume
… you’re reading from “Everything you ever wanted to know about Paganism but…”
… your ritual music is sung by Madonna
… you find yourself using a phallic symbol to call down the gods several times a night
… you ask a Satanist if you can just “borrow” a
sacrificial animal fist
… you start having “cyber” rituals
… you keep having to charge the batteries in
your wand
… you have Fertility Rites a couple times a
week, and twice on Sabbats
… you automatically kneel every time your High Priest/ess comes in the room

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Paris Hilton Is A Good Sport

I’ve stayed away from the Paris Hilton sex tape story simply because (a) the tape’s not very good, from a purely technical perspective and (b) I’m uncomfortable with making a public spectacle of people’s private fun. However, I’m delighted to discover that Ms. Hilton appeared on Saturday Night Live and turned out to be an even better sport than the Dixie Chicks:

FALLON: Is it hard to get into the Paris Hilton?
PARIS: Actually, it’s a very exclusive hotel, no matter what you’ve heard.
FALLON: I hear the Paris Hilton is very beautiful.
PARIS: I’m glad you’ve heard that.
FALLON: Do they allow double occupancy at the Paris Hilton?
PARIS: No.
FALLON: Is the Paris Hilton roomy?
PARIS: It might be for you, but most people find it very comfortable.
FALLON: I’m a VIP. I may need to go in the back entrance.
PARIS: It doesn’t matter who you are. It’s not gonna happen.

Food Bondage

No, it’s not what you think. What we have here is the product of too much time spent waiting for your food:

Thanks to Bondage Blog for the picture.

Congratulations Are In Order

Diablo from Pussy Ranch is getting married! “Diablo and Jonny, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then two little babies in a baby carriage….”

Here’s how it went down, since I know you ladies need the details about this sort of thing. And besides, it’s pretty cool:

On Friday, Jonny presented me with a saucy new ensemble from Wet Seal (the man has some seriously excellent taste) and told me I should wear it for a “surprise date” on Saturday. But of course! I adore surprises.

So I donned the beaded top, miniskirt and pink fishnet tights on Saturday evening (Jonny wore an extremely hot new outfit as well) and we headed out. It turned out he had made reservations at our favorite sushi restaurant. We ordered cocktails and nigiri and commenced a fabulous meal. After finishing, we decided we were still hungry and ordered a second round of sushi.

So you can imagine my shock when the waitress arrived with a tray not bearing spicy tuna rolls, but a white ring box. “Here’s your special roll,” she said, barely able to contain her glee. Jonny dropped to his knee as I began bawling my fool eyes out in front of many gawking diners, and popped the question.

I had a surprise planned too: See, we’d been talking about getting engaged a lot recently, and I had a hunch a proposal was forthcoming. So several days earlier (as it turns out, the exact day Jonny had purchased the ring), I had secretly had the word “yes” tattooed on the inside of my wrist. I’d hidden it with an AC/DC wristband and hoped my surprise wouldn’t be blown.

And it wasn’t; I whipped off the wristband and flashed Jonny my wrist. “Yes!” Onlookers applauded, and my feet haven’t touched the ground since.

I wanted my answer to last forever, and now it will. (In fact, it’s healing nicely.)

Congratulations to the both of ya!

A Male Sex Blogging Credo

Philip from Hot Action has some very cogent thoughts on male sex blogging. I specifically liked his thoughts about the ethics of blogging about sex:

As I see it, my main responsibility is to write as accurately and honestly as possible. I always picture the person involved reading the post and try to gauge if there is anything she could possibly take issue with.

But of course, it’s about way more than accuracy. […]

As a male sex blogger, I feel I have a duty to women to do them right. To give them my best writing, to extract the most beautiful or the most telling image from a situation, to pay tribute to them with elevated [or debased] language.

There are far more ways to make an event “unique and special” than by keeping it private.

I’m ashamed that I didn’t even know about Philip’s blog when I started discussing this subject.

What Submission Is And Is Not

I’ll catch some minor hell for this, but it’s true: sometimes (only sometimes, this is a literal statement and not that too-common rhetorical device of cloaking general distaste in vague disclaimer) when I read blogs by submissives, I get uneasy. Although I’m delighted whenever someone finds a lifestyle they find salutory and life-affirming, no matter how queasy their arrangements make me, there are some types of dominant/submissive relationships that seemed aimed at erasing the individuality, or even the humanity, if the submissive partner.

Accordingly, I am indebted to the strong-minded submissive Invidia, writing at The Collar Purple, for her recent pair of essays “What Submission Is” (scroll down to 12.04.03 entry) and “What Submission Is Not” (12.07.03 entry). The “Is” essay is a simple but powerful catalog of benefits and advantages a submissive (well, Invidia, anyway) enjoys as a consequence of her submission, while the “Is Not” essay covers just about everything that tends to make the hairs rise on the nape of my neck when I’m reading blogs by submissives. As Invidia herself points out, she’s not trying to define submission for anyone but herself, nor would I be impressed if she had done.

So what’s the ultimate reason for bring this up, if it’s all good and what’s wrong for Invidia may be perfectly fine for someone else, and so forth? Well, it’s because in reading so many sex blogs, I see a lot of people (men and women alike) who are talking about exploring dominance and submission but who are put off by some of the common practices Invidia includes in her “Is Not” essay. Perhaps, then, there is value in sharing her “you don’t have to treat your submissive like a Houseplant of Gor to play this game; the perfect submissive does not need to be three feet tall with a flat head to put drinks on” message with a broader audience.

Living The Wild Life

Rask the Porn Publisher isn’t living quite the wild life we expect from people in the sex industry. Instead, he works. Plus he has a very dry sense of humor (I hope it’s humor). On Pearl Harbor day:

My ex-wife called today to see if I was coming to my daughters’ birthday party. I didn’t go. I worked. I selected pictures for nine more websites and wrote the copy for them. I did take time off long enough to fuck the slave. As usual, she walked around afterwards, saying “I got fucked today.” Wondering whether such a response is really warranted, I did a search on this blog to see when she got laid last. I guess she may have just cause to think of it as something special.

The Nymph In My Net: Christmas Is Coming III

As noted previously, The Nymph is a confessed present peeper. So I warned her that her Christmas present would come in tamper-resistant packaging. She got it yesterday:

She says she’s still laughing. I figure she’s madly trying all 9999 combinations, in order. We’ll see if she remembers to humor me by asking for the combination on Christmas day.

Missing Cowgirl: Found

It seems she got a bodypaint job and went back down onto the farm for some bucolic grazing action:

People are Crazy About Sex

Yes, crazy about sex. But you knew that. Here’s an anecdote from one of the anarchobabes that just had me scratching my head:

Anyway, the sister in-law thing … its Partner M’s sister and her husband. She accidentally found his stash of “penis pills” — that’s what she called them — and threw a bitch-fit about it. According to her, things had been getting pretty sad in the bedroom dept but then all of a sudden he becomes a new man. Regular sex, no problems getting it up and keeping it up — great stuff, right? She gets suspicious that there’s another woman and starts noseying around and finds his bottle of Viagra. As soon as hubby gets home she goes off on him, yelling about how nasty and sick he is and all kinds of mean shit. She said she thought he’d apologize.

But he didn’t. (Heh.) He said he was tired of wondering whether he’d be able to have sex with her and when he started reading about Viagra he thought it would work for him. So he went to the doctor and after some tests the doc gave him the Rx. He didn’t tell her because he was embarrassed about needing the pills — he just thought she’d be happy that they could do it again and told her to fuck herself if she didn’t like what he was doing to be able to fuck her himself. (What a great line!)

So, they’re barely talking now….

Maybe it’s because I’m a guy, but I just don’t get her negative reaction. It almost sounds like she is aggrieved that they are (er, were) having sex again.

The Shape Of A Woman

Here’s a woman shaped like a…well, you be the judge:

Ya gotta love those curves!

Do You Need A Warm Glow?

Of course you do. It’s December. You need a warm glow:

Mucho thanks to the friend who sent me the link.

Left Behind Lingerie

Philip at Hot Action shares a long reverie. A reverie about laundry, you could say, if you had no soul at all. The reverie begins:

I went upstairs and started to tidy up my room. I was sorting my laundry when I found the bra you’d been asking about. Yes, I still have it. So you want it back, do you?

I raised the bra to my mouth and and took a bit of the shiny black material in my teeth. I imagined biting through to the hard, sensitive nipple on the other side.

The smell of your breasts was still powerful on the garment….

Gimme That Old Time Sodomy

According to the Washington Times, Virginia has decided to ignore the US Supreme Court in an effort to legally sodomize just a few more defendants:

Virginia needs a new law that complies with a recent U.S. Supreme Court ruling that struck down anti-sodomy statues, but the state should keep its existing sodomy ban as a nonworking, unconstitutional relic, the state Crime Commission said yesterday.

Removing the state’s more than two-century-old law could doom pending court cases involving people charged or convicted under current Virginia law, members of the commission said.

Uh, if the law’s unconstitutional, shouldn’t the pending court cases be doomed? Hello? Earth to Virginia, anybody home?

Thanks to Free-Market.Net’s Freedom News for the link.

The Serenade

Here’s an erotic illustration by Maele that makes it clear what’s really going on with those guys fiddling under their ladies’ windows:

What an instrument!

“HIKE!”

This was sent to me with the proposed caption: “Why women don’t play football (but should)”:

Thanks, Richard!

Men And Sex Blogs

I want to share an interesting set of comments I found over at Steve Gilliard’s News Blog. I’ve commented before on how most of the sex blogs I link to are written by women, and how male voices in the sex blog community are so vanishingly rare. When you do find ’em, they are guys like me ‘n Daze who talk about other people almost exclusively. Or we just link to porn pretty pictures. Now, why is that, exactly?

Steve says:

There’s a new spate of sexually oriented blogs. Some are fascinating, some droll, but they are mostly an outgrowth of women expressing themselves online. Not exclusively, but enough to make it an outgrowth of more political and social expressions of opinion.

But what a lot of feminists and their fellow travelers do not understand is this: it is incumbent upon men to be discrete.

The social code of men doesn’t encourage the sharing of sexual secrets with other men, forget women. Which is why Clinton lied, which is why my toes curl when I’m asked about women I’ve dated. One of the big tenets of an adult masculinity is not bragging. You don’t have to do much to let your friends know you’re sexually active. And that’s all that is required.

He also says:

[M]en are judged when they talk about sex. Yes, men tell sex stories, but they leave out the details. Sure, they’ll tell you what happened, but they leave out the details. Most men do not want to know what other men do in bed. Men do not usually hunt down old boyfriends to get details of what they did before. And, no, most do not want to be friends with the guys you’ve slept with. In fact, they like to ignore them. They won’t think they’re good guys or any such nonsense. It’s physics: two bodies cannot share the same space.

Men withhold details to prevent being judged by their peers. Guys do not say “yeah Bob, I really like sucking her toes and brushing her hair after sex.” That’s not anything a guy wants to know about another guy, ever.

Most of which strikes me as pretty much right on the money. There’s a class of guys who tell graphic lies in the locker room, but real men mostly ignore and avoid that, as the crass adolescent posturing it generally is.

More on Men And Sex Blogs

Aleksander at Naked Loft Party thinks there’s a more prosaic reason for the lack of male sex blogs:

I agree it is rather hard to find male sex blogs that don’t revolve around pornography, commentary, sexual frustration, or sucking up to women for the sake of getting dates. We men are poorly represented. But I think the explanation is more prosaic than Bacchus and Gillard realize. Women are socialized to take an interest in discussing sex and relationships, in the same way men are socialized to take an interest in sports or politics. Women are more likely to keep journals in the first place. They are more likely to be involved in sex work. They have no other outlet, seeing as female promiscuity is still viewed as aberrant. And finally there’s that ingrained notion that male sexuality is primitive, one-dimensional, not worthy of exploration; that men who talk about sex are pigs, which is only reinforced by attitudes such as Gillard’s.

He’s also got some interesting things to say about the pressures men face not to talk about sex. Thanks, Aleksander!

Cutest Cosplay Girl

Here’s a lovely example of cosplay in action:

The Nymph In My Net: Christmas Is Coming II

Today’s my day for wrapping her present. This is a challenge, because she’s a confessed present-peeper. You know, the sort of girl who unwraps a corner of the package a week before Christmas to see what’s inside.

I have a plan. We’ll see if it works.

E Is For ErosBlog

Have you seen the Erotic Alphabet? It’s full of goodies like this:

BSTI Likes Livvy

Or at least approves of her:

I want to capture her Essence, and preserve it with delicious spreadable jams and jellies to be served later on toast points.

I want to put her smile in a jar and keep it on a high shelf to be taken down and admired when the world goes dark.

I want to put her positive energy in a syringe and randomly inoculate people while saying “here, be like her. You’ll feel better, trust me.”

This planet would be so much better off with just a little more Livvyness.

Deeply Sexy, Deeply Dangerous

Soulless over at Black As My Soul is something of a master at thinking and sharing deeply dangerous thoughts. Sexy ones:

“What if I was being stalked?” I wondered. What risks would she have taken? Who would know she was following me? Would she give herself to me?

Would opportunity lay itself on my doorstep like that?

How pretty would she look in restraints?

I went to sleep last night wondering that.

You evil evil man. (Of course I mean that only in the nicest way.)