September 1st, 2015 -- by Bacchus
You can’t tell me you aren’t at least a little bit intrigued by any discussion of sex play that includes this line:
It’s a complete pain to get his balls through the hole to start the process, but well worth the bother.
If that’s not enough to tell you what’s going on, this might be a clue:
Electricity: much less scary when I’m the one playing with the dial!
That’s right: this is a discussion of male junk getting the heck shocked out of it. Specifically, it’s Curvaceous Dee talking about zapping Hylas with a little bit (OK, a lot) of help from the penile-torment electric bondage board. (There are high-resolution pictures.)
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August 31st, 2015 -- by Bacchus
I don’t care how pretty Madelyn Monroe normally is. With Matt Williams giving her an aggressive fishhooking at Sexually Broken, she looks like the victim of demonic possession.
I personally would consider invoking the “never stick your dick in crazy” rule at a sight like that, but I guess it’s not really her fault that Matt’s making her look demented. (The Sybian she’s been riding for quite a while might have something to do with it too.)
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August 30th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
With any mechanical robot, you sometimes have to blow the dust out the cogs in the brain. But malebots have a bit of extra plumbing that also needs periodic maintenance:
According to my source, this malebot is RanXerox, aka Rank Xerox or Ranx. Supposedly he’s made out of photocopier parts. I found him at Erotic Mad Science, where Dr. Faustus calls him (I think with justification) “a rare example of such.”
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August 29th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
Why yes, thanks for noticing:
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August 28th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
This lazy-seeming and somewhat derivative history of the American blowjob was redeemed for me by linking to its source material, especially the much better 2006 essay on the subject by the late and lamented Christopher Hitchens:
As American As Apple Pie
For me the laugh-out-loud Hitchens anecdote was this one:
My friend David Aaronovitch, a columnist in London, wrote of his embarrassment at being in the same room as his young daughter when the TV blared the news that the president of the United States had received oral sex in an Oval Office vestibule. He felt crucially better, but still shy, when the little girl asked him, “Daddy, what’s a vestibule?”
Nobody could write about a delicate subject — or an indelicate one for that matter — like Hitchens:
Stay with me. I’ve been doing the hard thinking for you. The three-letter “job,” with its can-do implications, also makes the term especially American. Perhaps forgotten as the London of Jack the Ripper receded into the past, the idea of an oral swiftie was re-exported to Europe and far beyond by a massive arrival of American soldiers. For these hearty guys, as many a French and English and German and Italian madam has testified, the blowjob was the beau ideal. It was a good and simple idea in itself. It was valued — not always correctly — as an insurance against the pox. And — this is my speculation — it put the occupied and the allied populations in their place. “You do some work for a change, sister. I’ve had a hard time getting here.”
I’m interested to discover just how much I enjoy the Hitchens essay today. Nine years ago, it didn’t impress me nearly as much.
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August 27th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
I’m all for gayer garments, but I don’t think it means today what it seems to have meant in the 1940s when this yarn advertisement was published:
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August 25th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
It’s not the best beach in the world, but the company is excellent:
From Tumblr, where it’s said to date from 1938.
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