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The Sex Blog Of Record
August 12th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Meet Chad Rock. Chad is horny and bored.
Then Chad meets Jesse. Jesse comes on to him. Chad starts thinking with the little head, and momentarily forgets his momma’s advice about not talking to strangers in bad neighborhoods. Hello, Jesse:
Events transpire. Time passes. Slowly — too slowly — Chad begins to realize that Jesse is one of the people his mama was warning him about:
Uh oh. Chad’s helpless and in trouble. What vile perversions is Jesse going to subject him to?
Ohnoes! It’s worse than Chad could ever have feared! He’s all tied up and getting a big sticky wet willie!
Sadly for Chad, and to his rueful surprise, it is not an accident that the word “willie” has suddenly appeared in this conversation.
Guess what? Willie wants to play, too.
Nobody asks Chad. Bondage can be handy like that.
Now Willie has Chad’s full attention.
As they used to say in those Victorian novels, perhaps it’s time to draw the curtain on this tender scene…
August 11th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
A good girl in trouble, from the cover of some detective fiction, courtesy of Bondage Blog:
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August 10th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Let me just repeat that title for a minute while you take a mental vacation and savor the images it evokes: “Dan Savage, Violet Blue, and A Strap-On.”
OK, break’s over. Sadly, what I’ve got for you is not quote that entertaining. But it’s pretty close: Dan’s latest column, entitled Peg, Pegging, Pegged and featuring Dan and Violet offering pegging advice.
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August 9th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
I really don’t know what I could say that would improve on this excerpt from a cheesy novel from another age. Politically correct clucking aside, what’s to say? But I think it will amuse you all:
Lars put his hand behind her head and drew her toward him. They touched lips. He thought of Terry and how ridiculous it was to prefer anyone to this gorgeous acre of femininity. She pressed her lips to his. ‘You tough little bastard.’
It didn’t bother him. It was a kick for her and a kick for him. The mismatch of the century. He took her in his arms, bending over her as she stuck her legs straight out and slouched lower. He kissed her hard, slid his lips down her neck to her breasts. She wiggled her legs and said ‘Ummm, baby.’ He found a zipper near her armpit and worked it. The dress loosened, and he drew it down from her shoulders. He found the hook in back. ‘Introducing,’ he murmured, and took off her brassiere. Big, all right. A feast, and not only for the eyes. He feasted.
After a while she led him to her bedroom and stripped, turning and posing for his pleasure. She stopped him from undressing. She wanted to do it herself. She undressed him as if he were a baby, cooing over him and doing everything but carry him to the bed. She even tried that, but couldn’t make it. He laughed and it was still a kick and he was ready. But she wasn’t. She kept stalling, kept playing.
An hour passed, a full hour, and he grew tired and testy. ‘Be a big girl,’ he said, and pushed her down and pulled at her legs. She rolled over onto her stomach, but her backward glance was melting. He realized this was what she wanted. She wouldn’t ask for it because asking adulterated true toughness, but she wanted a hard man, a mean man, the man who had kicked Sommy in the nuts. He smacked her big rear end. She said, ‘No, I won’t!’ He smacked it again, the sound ringing out in the silent house. He thought of Terry. Was she next door, listening to them, jealous and sexually excited?
He smacked Mona’s rear five times, his hand stinging from the force of the blows, the sound loud enough to waken anyone in the house. Mona whimpered and rolled onto her side. ‘You hurt me.’ Her eyes blinked back tears. He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her flat on her back. She tried to draw up her legs. He slapped her face. She said, ‘Not that.’ He slapped her again and jammed his knee between her thighs. ‘Not that,’ he mocked. ‘You want me to pat the famous fanny all night. Not that. You want Lars to perform by the script.’
She wept, pressing her legs together. ‘I’ve changed my mind. Go away. You’re not –‘
He grabbed a breast. ‘If you don’t open –‘
She cried out. Her legs opened. He stroked her face and kissed her. He told her how beautiful, how desirable she was, and she wept softly and called him a rat and rapist and hugged him and bit his shoulder.
It went very well. As soon as it ended her eyes closed and she began to doze, mumbling that she hadn’t slept well all week and please phone her soon.
From The Movie Maker by Herbert Kastle (1968).
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August 5th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
From the Red Sneaker Diaries, we have this description of what it feels like for a woman to fuck another woman with a strap-on:
This was one of the first few times I fucked Anna with the feeldoe strapped on — and this time, it felt natural. Strap-on sex has a learning curve – much like any other sex act, really. The “strap-er” can’t be expected to fuck like a Casanova the first time out of the gates, but after some awkward first times, it gets easier. And after it gets easier, it starts to feel natural. When it feels natural, you’re there — no more flubs, no more hesitation, no more mistakes. Just good, hearty strap on sex
Coupling the feeldoe with a harness is truly brilliant. The feeldoe will stay in place on its own, but only with decently closed legs. This limits its usefulness. Strapped into place, its stays put — perky, firm and ready to fuck. In fact, even though the straps felt awkward at first, the fact that they allow the feeldoe to cradle so firmly into me makes me forget that they’re there. Void of distracting worries of it falling out, I am free the let the feeldoe become part of me, to become an extension of my cunt. The silicone is inert, but it allows the quivers and shakes and strokes of a fuck to channel deep within me, fueling the the burning desire of my sex.
It’s a real trip, you know, fucking a girl with a strap on. My inert cock, spreading sensation to me, elicits reactions from her. Everything is delayed, sensations conveyed by proxy through the blue silicone cock between my legs. Her body tenses under me — I see her orgasm before I feel the jolting of the feeldoe on my gspot. For the briefest of seconds, I am simply an observer — watching transfixed as her orgasm washes over her. Then, suddenly, my world is flooded with that feeling — my own thighs flutter in response as I thrust again.
(I think she’s using the word “feeldoe” in reference to this product.)
August 5th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Movie posters from exploitation flicks can be so much fun! This image is a detail from the poster for White Slave (1986):
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August 2nd, 2007 -- by Bacchus
As you all know, I filter the comments aggressively. Anybody with a blog knows about automated comment spammers who drop various text nuggets designed to pass as real comments.
I thought this one was worth pulling out and sharing, because it appears to be human-written rather than purely machine generated (which is to say, it isn’t just random keywords slung together), and because its narrative is classic old-school bitch-slut-whore porn marketing, the sort of thing this sex blog exists in reaction against:
When it comes to porn bitches with big tits getting their cunts and asses stretched and stuffed by huge dicks and getting their faces and jugs covered by hot spunk, Ava Devine has almost no equal. A regular on [url deleted] and [url deleted], Ava is one cock loving, cum loving, fuck loving slut. Whether she’s getting double penetrated or just getting drilled by massive meat, I swear this girl’s pussy has seen more action in the dirt and taken more of a pounding than a U.S. Marine. What a whore. I really think that she, along with wonderfully like-minded souls Carmella Bing and Shyla Stylez, are among the leaders of the pack when it comes to no-frills, low glamour, raw, hardcore porn. Ava Devine loves fucking and really doesn’t give a fuck what people think. This bitch should be a hero. See the action for yourself at [url deleted].
I cannot deny that Ava is sexy, but whence the leap from that to bitch, slut, and whore? I always wonder what these guys are thinking. Is this how they really feel about porn stars? Or is it merely how they think their intended audience feels?
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