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July 27th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

Communicating In Kisses

a war memory - poem

This charming little poem about a Great War romance and the international language of kisses comes from the May 1919 issue of Saucy Stories, which I found in the Internet Archive.

A War Memory
By Frederick Moxon

When I was over there in France
Driving an army ambulance,
I sang a song and took my chance.

I took my chance and sang a song,
For war is foul, but youth is strong,
And life is sweet, and death is long.

Yes, life and love alike are sweet,
And by the well we used to meet —
Myself, and pretty Marguerite.

In southern vale the village lay —
(“Hell’s Road” a thousand worlds away),
And there was rest and holiday.

A church there was with chiming bell,
And moonlight silence by the well
Where whispering poplar-shadows fell.

I tried my French each little while,
And Marguerite, with puzzled smile,
Our meanings tried to reconcile.

But Love be praised! and thank the Fates!
One thing for no translation waits:
Her kisses “talked United States.”

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July 26th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

Gag Reflex Kicking In

deep throat gagging art

The artist writes:

Originally called “Talented” but I didn’t want anyone to miss the her bulging throat! So I added a couple tears, and changed the name.

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July 25th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

The Sex Club How-To

I joined a teen-age sex club

I come from a long line of men who, in my family, all run to varying degrees of in-person social discomfort, possibly due to some sort of mild spectrum disorder. If that’s what it is, it’s necessarily undiagnosed, because we are emphatically not the sort of men who voluntarily seek medical attention unless there is chest pain or spurting arterial blood. Moreover, we come from the social class where our imagination of mental health care (imagination of it being all that we have) is a Loony Tunes vision of something imposed by predatory men in white coats who come in a van with their straitjackets and a net on a long pole, preparatory to hauling us off to a room with padding on the walls.

However much or little of this social discomfort issue any one of us may endure, one common nuance of it is an extreme aversion to doing anything where we “don’t know the program”; I once saw my father refuse to eat at a fancy wedding brunch buffet because he’d never seen a buffet before that had servers at stations (like an omelette station) and he didn’t “know the program.” He was, basically, paralyzed and willing to forgo thirty-five bucks worth of all-you-can-eat chow because he didn’t know how he was supposed to interact with a catering employee. I had to get him a plate. (No, I’m not free of the disorder; I just avoided all the stations that had terrifying paper hats behind them, which the men in our family would consider “above-average coping skills”.)

Needless to say, we are not the sort of men who would voluntarily participate in an orgy or visit a sex club. Too many strangers and, it can be inferred from first principles, too obviously a set of necessary behavior protocols that we don’t know. It’s just not going to happen. We don’t know the program.

Still: although a visit to a sex club would likely be an impossibly large ask for one of us, we can and do learn new programs, albeit slowly and at no small cost in psychological stress. And one of the ways we do that is by doing lots of advance research and preparation. Hence I’m always fascinated by “how to” articles about activities where I don’t “know the program” and would thus be unlikely to do the thing. Slotting firmly into that category is Navigating a Sex Club for the First Time by Red Hot Suz, who offers about a dozen different tips and suggestions that will ease your first visit to a sex club. Reading the article doesn’t make it more likely that I’ll take my odd little bundle of inherited social phobias to a sex club any time soon, but it should smooth the way for more adventurous types. Consider this sensible suggestion from the Interacting With People section:

Flirting. Most clubs have an Ask Once policy, meaning that you can only approach a person/group of people once to ask to join them. If they say no, you cannot ask again. However, a good amount of people in attendance are open to talking and flirting, and maybe playing if the connection is right. Just because you’re at a sex club does not mean that you don’t have to try. Be as respectful as possible, and be as charming as you would be on a date.

Much more good sense of this sort awaits ye who go to read the whole thing.

Credit: The image at the top of the post is by good-girl artist Bob Powell and is from the story “I Joined A Teen-Age Sex Club” in First Love Illustrated #13 (1951).

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July 24th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

Pretty Squid Bait

Any time there’s an encounter between a giant squid and a pretty swimming woman, her swimsuit is inevitably the first casualty:

helpless nude woman swimmer in tentacles of a giant squid

From the cover of Serie Inferno: Abissi.

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July 23rd, 2017 -- by Bacchus

The Archbishop Can Suck It

religious autofellatio gargoyle carving

The image above comes from a breezy-but-detailed investigation of the phenomenon of autofellatio through the ages, as written by C. Brian Smith for Mel Magazine. In A Cultural History of Men Sucking Their Own Dicks, Smith shares the archbishop-autofellatio corbel photograph with this explanation:

A statue of Archbishop of Cologne Konrad von Hochstaden blowing himself sits atop the 14th-century Cologne City Hall. Some say the archbishop was unpopular among stone-carvers because he put a large tax on “hops” in beer so they created the statue in defiance. Others believe it’s a modern incarnation (circa 1950) meant to replace a statue destroyed during World War II. If so, the modern sculptor was having a laugh at the expense of his employers and future generations. Either way, gargoyle sculptures like this were known to be self-indulgent jokes by the artists of the day.

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July 21st, 2017 -- by Bacchus

Sexy Time In Computer Lab

Computer lab was never like this for me, but one constant remains: the oblivious geek with his face in the screen!

lesbian fun in the computer lab

From an Italian pulp cover.

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July 20th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

When His Wife Catches Him

This conversation about a husband “getting caught” watching porn will likely make you laugh:

My Wife: What are you doing?

Me: Don’t come in here!

Her: Why? Are you watching porn?

Me: You’re supposed to be in the other room writing slash fiction!

Her: Walter White and Jesse Pinkman can wait. Let me see what you’re watching.

Me: This is my man-cave time! Don’t—

Her: Come on! Let me see!

Me: No! I—

Her: Ooooooooooo. That is really hot.

Me: Oh, for crying out—

Her: What? You really think I’m going to be upset? How long have we been together?

Me: No, I just… I mean… Oh, hell. I admit it. I kind of get off the idea that you’re going to get really, really pissed if you catch me, and that I’m in here doing something really, really bad.

Her: A role play! I can do that!

Me: (pause) Really?

Her: Really. Let me go out and come back in again.

Me: And you’ll be angry this time?

Her: Really angry. Just wait.

Me: God, I love you. Give me a minute, though. I need to cue the video back up to the good part…

From Kinkster Of A Certain Age.

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