This looks to me like the sort of illustration one often sees in older Japanese pulp magazines:

Back in May, Faustus blogged about neural implants of a sexual nature, and he illustrated the post with a set of panels from a graphic novel called “Click!” by Milo Manara. The strip featured a woman who came with a sexual remote control, one click of which invariably would turn her into a helplessly aroused sexual plaything, totally at the mercy (which she never got) of whomever held the remote.

Today I stumbled over another set of panels from that strip, at a much larger size. Click (heh!) the thumbnail below to see them:

From alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. cartoons.

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Fair warning: this might be considered another one of my “overthinking porn” posts in the same family with my Porn Described post.

So, I was looking at yet another Kink.com free sample gallery and finding it to be a perfectly fine specimen of its BDSM type, but somewhat difficult to distinguish from a great many others. It’s commodity porn, to be blunt — good quality, well made, but not really striving for uniqueness of theme.

As I always do, I scanned for shots that struck me as unusual, special, specially good — or to put it another way, different in some positive way. And, as I usually do when I look at a Kink.com photoshoot, I found some.

The trouble is, the two pictures that grabbed my eye were very much what you might consider to be “stock photos” or “standard views”. They are nondescript in a way that will become obvious when I attempt the fruitless exercise of describing them in words, and their “nondescriptness” is a function, I speculate, of their place in the standard pantheon of porn shots. They are so generic, thematically, that the functional words describing them have no power to distinguish them from ten zillion similar pictures.

First, here’s how standard porn-marketing prose would describe these pictures:

Picture One: Dripping wet pussy. Picture Two: He cums on her ass.

You know that I try to avoid stereotypical porn-marketing tropes here on ErosBlog, so let me take another run at these pictures, in slightly more descriptive fashion:

Picture One: “Attractive rear view, from a close low angle, of a woman’s pussy, wet and dripping with lube or her natural juices.” Picture Two: “A man strokes his dick as he finishes ejaculating all over a woman’s taught round bottom.”

Now, at this point, having been presented with viewing links, some of my readers are going to choose to step off the culture bus. I am describing, they might say, commodity porn, nothing special about it, not worth the half-a-dozen paragraphs I’ve wasted on it, utterly banal.

That’s OK with me. The doors are opening, exit to the rear, keep your hands clear of the door. If there’s anybody left, we’ll continue with our tour presentation.

OK, I see we still have a few faces. Moving on: I find I have become, perforce, something of a porn critic. It’s not a lofty or academic avocation, but it’s real — when you spend enough years not just looking at porn, but trying to sort it for quality and interest, you can tell when a pornographer is just phoning it in.

My assertion, then — and if you disagree, you might as well step off the bus and buy yourself an ice cream cone — is that the two sample photos, though utterly pedestrian in their content, are better-than-average in some other way.

And here’s the frustrating thing: I find myself utterly lacking in tools to identify and describe what makes them different or better than your general run of wet pussy and money-shot photos. Is it the lighting? Is it the camera angles? Does Bella Rossi just have a better looking bottom and pussy than your average porn starlet? Is Wolf Hudson’s dick somehow more pleasingly proportioned than average, as if it were a marble column carved under the supervision of legendary Greek geometer-aesthetes?

My ignorance is so profound that I’m not even sure what field I’m being ignorant in. Is this a photography thing? Or is it an art-criticism thing? If I had education in either or both of those fields, would I be able to write a thousand words on why these pictures are special, and have it be something more than empty hand-waving? Or would it still just be one man’s gut opinion, expressed in fancier language than “I like this more than I like that”?

These are the things that haunt you when you look at porn for long enough while burdened with too much of the wrong kind of education.

This Burger King ad is so tacky I thought it was a spoof at first, but apparently it’s real and ran in print in Singapore:

The small print ad copy begins (and I am not making this up): “Fill your desire for something long, juicy and flame-grilled with the NEW BK SUPER SEVEN INCHER. Yearn for more after you taste…”

Thanks to alert reader James for the tip.

Your conundrum for today: Why do they always call it “needle play” when, in every photo or drawing, they are inevitably using some variety of pin?

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I can’t believe this medical knowledge hasn’t been more widely distributed. You’d think guys would be printing this on handbills and posting it on every flat surface. I quote now from a blog called MommyLogic:

If you’re thinking about conceiving, or certainly if you are already pregnant, there is some pretty convincing evidence that instead of just swallowing, say, folic acid, you might want to swallow something else.

Let me be delicate about this, if I can.

As far as I can tell, not only should you be having lots of oral sex with the father of your baby — even up to a year before conceiving — you should also make sure to ingest his seminal fluid. Listen to what I’m telling you: the international medical community is giving you an Rx for oral. Sure, they say frequent intercourse is good, too, but oral is better. So, if you care about having a healthy baby and not potentially unleashing what scientists call a “destructive attack on the foreign tissues” of your fetus, if you want to avoid immunological disorders during pregnancy, and I’m sure you do, get to work. Or to pleasure, depending on how you feel about it.

Basically, the research says you need to be able to tolerate your baby’s foreign, paternal DNA; in other words, you need to get your body accustomed to the stuff, need to cozy up to some daddy double helix for a while so your body doesn’t reject it.

I’m no doctor, just a pregnant lady with Google, so maybe I’m horribly confused, but here is what I found excerpted online, from the Journal of Reproductive Immunology:

“While any exposure to a partner’s semen during sexual activity appears to decrease a woman’s chances for the various immunological disorders that can occur during pregnancy, immunological tolerance could be most quickly established through oral introduction and gastrointestinal absorption of semen.”

I could not make this up. Gastrointestinal absorption of semen. I know. For the man in your life, this news should not be hard to swallow. Sorry.

According to a group of Dutch researchers, “exposure to semen provides protection against developing preeclampsia.” That’s from a paper with the catchy title, “Immune Maladaptation in the Etiology of Preeclampsia: a Review of Corroborative Epidemiologic Studies.” Or you could use the subtitle: “Semen is Your Friend.”

I just can’t figure out why the whole “blue balls” thing has gotten so much traction with men, but they never got ahold of this medical morsel.

Thanks to Sexoteric for the link.

This illustration is from the 1963 publication Black Stocking Parade:

Of course the legendary standard of skill with the pasty-attached tassels is the ability to get them rotating in opposite directions, which may or may not be suggested by this unmoving drawing. But my eye is drawn elsewhere; I confess to wondering exactly where and how the rear “tail tassel” is affixed.