The Mormons, word has it, wear special underwear to the temple. Mt. Molelog found a picture:

Is that a stuffed codpiece? Or do they just put extra layers of cloth in that area to deter unseemly lust from rearing its ugly head when the sermon gets hot and heavy?

UPDATE: ErosBlog is informed that the special Mormon underpants are for daily wear, if you are that sort of Mormon; not just for wearing to temple as the post suggests. Only their bikini waxers know for sure….

In the spirit of the lady photographed a few months back with a huge protest sign saying “Lesbians Against Bush”, here we have a pubic protest courtesy of pieceoPlastic: Bush Must Go.

Of course you realize this is a threat to Homeland Security (“Sig Heil!“) and must be dealt with in the strictest possible fashion, Citizen.

Here’s a blowjob from the 1920s. Black and white this photo may be, and ragged at the edges from most of a century of horndog mishandling, but isn’t this long-dead fellatrix a righteous cutie?

Dirty Whore doesn’t use the word “slut” the way the assholes in the SoCal porn business do…and that’s a good thing:

First, a hearty bravo to the gentleman who wrote the following in an e-mail to me today, “If the freedom to comport yourself in the way that makes you happy is sluthood, then Lady Liberty should always be portrayed on her back with her legs in the air.” Hear hear! And don’t even get me started on uses for that torch.

Any graphics designers out there who can make her a graphic?

This animated .gif actually came through in a couple of sex spams over the last few days. Disturbingly gripping, if you’ll pardon the pun:

Those wacky Japanese animators strike again!

Daze has found, and linked to, Christina Rossetti’s poem “The Goblin Market“, which is a poem about girls who get hungry for fruit:

“She dropp’d a tear more rare than pearl,
Then suck’d their fruit globes fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than man-rejoicing wine,
Clearer than water flow’d that juice;
She never tasted such before,
How should it cloy with length of use?
She suck’d and suck’d and suck’d the more
Fruits which that unknown orchard bore;
She suck’d until her lips were sore….

No sex to see here…move along now.

It seems that Bacchus no more gets invited to the good picnics than he does to the good costume parties. Here’s a tranquil scene, as the sun sets over the (mostly) abandoned picnic grounds covered in folding chairs, empty beer bottles and (oh yes!) someone’s drunk, passed out, topless wife or girlfriend.