August 22nd, 2013 -- by Bacchus
A Row Of Blowjobs
I found this in a gallery of erotic fan art for the Japanese anime version of Witchblade.
Similar Sex Blogging:
The Sex Blog Of Record
August 21st, 2013 -- by Bacchus
Yaoi Bondage Sex
This is by Arai-Hime but I found it in a small gallery here. There’s more at DeviantArt, where we learn that these are:
My new characters Jani and Ezra. And they’re newlyweds! ♥ Newlyweds with a very interesting sex life, lol.
Ezra is the one with the awesome tat, and sometimes uses Jani as a teddy bear.
In case it were insufficiently obvious:
This is YAOI! If you don’t like it go tell somebody else because I don’t care. If you don’t like, don’t look.
Similar Sex Blogging:
August 20th, 2013 -- by Bacchus
Shower Sex
Author Casey McKay on shower sex:
What’s it like when we shower together?
The hard reality is shower blow jobs equal soap in the eyes, or water in the ears, or not being able to breath because I don’t have gills. The shower floor is slippery, one or both of us almost falls. The hot water runs out, the water is too hot, too cold, not hitting me, not hitting him. Mostly, we hardly ever shower together anymore, too much nonsense.
Yeah, pretty much. But remember, the rich are different from you and me; they have better plumbing, bigger hot water heaters, larger shower stalls, and they stay in better hotels. So there may be some socioeconomic stratification here.
Similar Sex Blogging:
August 19th, 2013 -- by Bacchus
Chorus Girl With Vibrator
Hey, look! Here’s a vintage photo of a chorus girl actually using an early personal massager for its supposed design purpose:
Found here and dates to 1926.
Similar Sex Blogging:
August 16th, 2013 -- by Bacchus
Do Not Play With Your Inventory
Here are some comic-book bad guys (white slavers with many luscious sex-slave captives) who need to read the Rules For Evil Overlords. As Bondage Blog puts it:
These guys are not professionals; they play with their inventory and it causes them problems.
I think Rule #26 can be stretched to fit this situation:
No matter how attractive certain members of the rebellion are, there is probably someone just as attractive who is not desperate to kill me. Therefore, I will think twice before ordering a prisoner sent to my bedchamber.
Similar Sex Blogging:
August 15th, 2013 -- by Bacchus
A Leaking Cock
For those of you mesmerized by that moment before orgasm, here’s an endless .gif that captures it:
Similar Sex Blogging:
August 15th, 2013 -- by Bacchus
Wrap It Up!
Joyce Wadler has a column in yesterday’s New York Times about the perils of getting all your sex education from informal but highly-attentive reading, back in the day. This personal reminiscence about Saran Wrap is pretty hilarious:
Luckily, by the time I was 16, I had moved on to more anatomically instructive reading material [including] the Playboy Advisor.
You had to haul through all sorts of tedious stuff about stereo systems and a well-stocked bar before getting to one item of sexual information and it seems to me this might have been the place where I picked up the information about Saran Wrap… It was so absurd even Hugh Hefner couldn’t have endorsed it. Probably that was what attracted me, the silliness of it. It couldn’t be viable? Could it?
This sex tip, anyway, was that in place of a condom, one could use Saran Wrap, you just had to make certain things were well wrapped.
Looking back on it I find it hard to believe there was a teenage boy willing to go along with this, but then we were dealing with the thing a teenage boy will do anything for: sex.
So we got the Saran Wrap and wrapped. And wrapped. And wrapped. You new readers may not know this, but in matters of safety and personal health I am scrupulous. So we kept wrapping. I cannot, even in educationally correct greengrocer terms (root vegetable? zucchini? summer squash?) do justice to the final result. Let’s just say the only sexual thing possible, when we were done, was to look, and having looked, it was not something you would ever forget. Wait, I’ve got it: Picture a noble palace guard, swathed in 13 layers of dry cleaner’s plastic wrap, but, you know, proportional.
Anyway, summer ends, the teenage boy, who had been a waiter at one of the hotels, goes back home to New York City and this being one of the things in my life I want to block out forever, I do.
Until one day when I am 62, in the supermarket and a voice calls out: “Joyce! Joyce Wadler!” And it is he. Now a shrink. Living one block away from me. Who has remembered, God help me, my full name. I chat with him for the least possible time because all I can see is that image sort of hanging over us, like a Goodyear blimp. I cannot believe he is not remembering it, too, but it’s not the sort of thing I want to acknowledge. Where would I start? “Shrink, huh, what made you get into that?” “Do much cooking?” “What do you think is better, baggies or Saran Wrap or do you like your stuff shrink wrapped?”
Awkward…
Similar Sex Blogging:
