It has been far too long since I published a Share Our Shit Saturdays meme post, but I’ve got to at least touch some of the highlights of the best stuff that has been put out there by a few of my favorite bloggers since the last time:

1. In his usual industrious way, Dr. Faustus has published two more full chapters (Chapter 4 and Chapter 5) in the Tales of Ashley Madder, and is currently chugging along through the daily page-by-page publication of Chapter 6 at his flagship Erotic Mad Science blog. He’s also published additional versions of his Rosetta Stone comic Bubbles in Punjabi, Turkish, and Farsi. And finally, he published three commissioned artworks in connection with his comic Bait: one called The Daughters Of Leos by Faustus Crow (no relation), and the more light-hearted damsel-in-distress artworks Deep Sea Lola and Bubble Tube Lola.
2. The hardworking and discerning curators of pornographic history at The Rialto Report have released three more quality scan sets of vintage porn magazines since my last report on their curatorial efforts: the issues from the first year (1976) of High Society, the 1981 issues of Adult Cinema, and the issues from the first year (1976) of Cheri.
3. Back in September Girl On The Net published this ridiculously-good post on what it takes (and, more importantly, doesn’t take) to be a sex blogger.
4. From the Sensual Liberation Army, an ErosBlog friend going back to the very earliest of days, we learn that the magic of the crochet bikini does not care how many nipples you have.
5. Franklin Veaux wrote at some length about the kinkiest sex toy he’s ever used. Considering that he’s the creator of the famous Map of Human Sexuality and that his answer involved a six-week campaign by the women in his life to make him more sexually suggestible and biddable, you might not have expected so much mathematics — or such a small piece of aluminum! — to figure in the tale.

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Surrender the booty? I don’t think so… this one is going to have to be plundered!

Artwork is called Lena The Milf, by artist Cervolex.

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To catcall is boorish. To emit an audible, uncontrolled guttural groan of lust? Understandable, but beyond the pale of civilization, at least in these modern times. But just to look? Are we not men? She may glare, but I say, make no apologies:

My spies tell me this photo is by Helmut Newton and the model is Alice Springs, in a shoot for the fashion magazine Dépêche Mode on a street in Paris in 1971. (Yes, children, Dépêche Mode was a magazine before it was a band.)

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These past months on the internet there was a spate of sensationalist summer silly-season web-journalism stories about so-called “sex doll brothels”. Friends, I spurned those stories, because the concept is risible. A brothel is a workplace for sex workers, not a collection of jack-off booths with sex-toy rentals. And while there’s nothing inherently wrong with the latter notion, it’s disrespectful and dehumanizing to sex workers to borrow their terminology for your no-humans-involved business concept.

Wait, did I say there was nothing inherently wrong with the notion of a public jack-off booth with sex-toy rentals? Yeah, but I meant “wrong” in a moral sense. Practically speaking, I think it’s dumb. Some things make more sense at home. You don’t trust a minimum-wage employee to wash your sex toys after a stranger has used them. Moreover, given the inherent stigma that sex toys in general and sex dolls in particular still carry in our repressive societies, you don’t queue up to use them in a public place. From these axioms, it follows: you don’t rent. You buy. This is the same logic that doomed the coin-op video-booth in sleazy downtown sex shops, as soon as everyone could buy their own VCR and porn tapes to take home. So too with sex dolls: You take discreet truck delivery, you play with them in your own house, you handle your own cleanup. It’s just a better situation that way.

Which is where a slick sex doll shopping site like SexDolls.com comes in. I’ve posted about sites like this before, although never about one quite so pretty as this one:

There seem to be more than sixty different doll-models on offer at SexDolls.com, and that’s before the customization options kick in. We’re talking — and I can’t swear that all these options exist on every doll, but extensive spot-checking suggests most of them are available for most dolls — sixteen different hair styles, eight eye colors, twelve different fingernails colors, three different nipple sizes, four different nipple colors, four different vagina hair styles including “none”, and your choice of removable “easier to clean” or built-in vagina. Whew! That, my friends, is a metric fuck-ton of choices to make before they can build out your sex doll and put her in the crate to send her on the truck toward your address.

Although perhaps I should not be so hasty to assume that “her”. Indeed, what about male sex dolls for women? As you can see, there’s a category for that, although sadly at the moment of my writing there’s only one sex doll on offer in the category. Curiously, his description calls him “one of our top rated gay male sex dolls.” I won’t open the can of worms that is gender and orientation when ascribed to sex toys, but I can’t help wondering why the lone male doll in a category labelled “sex dolls for women” is described as gay. I also noticed that he’s better described for the convenience of penetrators than penetratees. He’s provisioned with numerical statistics for things like his anal depth and oral depth, but his description is oddly silent about whatever genital arsenal he may come equipped with. The category description assures us that all of the male sex dolls offered “are packing some serious heat below the belt” and “come with detachable penises” but in specific terms, customers wanting to be penetrated are left to wonder “by what?” Customers intending to penetrate, by contrast, get specific numerical answers for every doll.

I want to close by observing that somebody has put an almost obsessive amount of skill and energy and heart into dressing, posing, lighting, and photographing the dolls for sale on SexDolls.com. I realize that making the female form look attractive in photographs is a highly developed profession, but it must be an added challenge when your model is made out of assorted plastics. There is some truly lovely photography on display here!

Somewhere off-screen I can just hear the bus driver yelling “All right, people, it’s still another twenty miles to the camp, pee break is over, time to get back on the bus!”

In fact I could not Google up a provenance for this photo. I have to assume it has something to do with naturists or nudists. I don’t recognize the make and model of the bus but it looks vaguely 1950s vintage to me (there were an awful lot of bus-makers in those days) and that means it almost has to be from somewhere overseas, because a racially-integrated nudist camp would have a been a heavy lift in the USA in those days.

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I think I might be willing to forgive her vanity on this one occasion:

Cartoon is from the October 1973 Adam magazine.

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I cannot fault this hungry gargoyle’s taste in toothsome womanflesh, but I do have to wonder what his intentions are. Is the lady for eating, or has our tentacle-handed monster some more refined pleasures in mind?

The artwork is from the cover of Sorchella #5.

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