March 19th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Naked Hippie Women
It’s Monday, so please allow me to brighten your day with some vintage girl-on-girl hippie action:
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March 16th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Multi-Purpose Urinal?
They say art doesn’t have to be practical, and in this case, I suspect that’s a good thing. Because, I would imagine that in the sort of bars where this urinal would be appreciated, it might also get molested.
All I can say is, I hope it’s stoutly affixed to the wall.
March 14th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Married Sex
Say what you will, but married sex doesn’t have to be either rare or (when routine) boring:
We go through condoms like matches. I began buying the large packs – 24 is it? One pack probably lasts us about a month. I would say that we probably make love 4 to 7 times a week. Sometimes daily.
It can happen in the evening during and after a kinky session, or late at night, half-asleep in bed, always following the same routine – he wakes me up, half asleep himself, by rubbing my body, caressing my breasts and rolling my nipples between his fingers, pulling down my panties and even delivering something like a vague, sleepy spank. I expose my breasts, whether it means pulling something up or down, or taking something over my head and throwing it on the floor. I remove the comforter from my chest, to feel the chill of the cold bedroom (always cold) on my bare skin, contrasted with the heat of his palm and fingers. I slip my hand between my legs and masturbate.
Inevitably, I turn over, kneeling on the bed, with my legs wide apart, my face either in the pillows or next to his. He continues to play with my breasts, as I often replay in my head various master/slave scenarios, imagining the power exchange between us. I close my eyes. He would often put his fingers into the dewy, slippery territory between my wide-spread thighs – caressing, running his fingers up and down, plunging them inside, penetrating me roughly, firmly, confidently. Sometimes I would come right there, around his fingers – I wonder if he can feel the muscles contracting. Sometimes I would come from a slightest touch of my intimate areas, sometimes from the breast stimulation. Last night was especially “dramatic,” as he put it this morning. It was loud.
The night sessions are always followed by an intercourse, almost always with me on top – I reach for the dresser drawer in the darkness, feel the condom wrapper with my hand – scratchy edges, smooth surface. Pull it out and present it to him. Put my lips around his penis and suck on it as if my life depended on it. He would lift my head off himself, place the condom on. I’d throw away the remaining clothes, if any left, climb on top of him and ride him into bliss [his bliss]. He might kiss me along the way, or slap my bottom sharply with his palm, or hold me by my neck, which I find especially hot, or my hair, or hold on to my hips and guide my body, or wrap his arms around me. I never come from an intercourse, but I love it – I like it slow and sensual, I like it rough, I like it either way – by then I am well lubricated. Sometimes I try to clench my muscles around him. He comes inside, always inside.
From A Farmwife With A Twist.
March 13th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Banana Sex
Girls putting bananas in improbable places go way way back on the internets. In fact, if I didn’t see a .gif file on that theme back in the dialup BBS days, then I’ve manufactured a memory.
For some reason, though, this banana gallery reminds me of the end of one of those “…and one this time, at band camp” shaggy dog stories. Punchline: “And then, you’ll never believe this, she ate the banana!”
Picture courtesy of the [defunct since 2014] website Get Dirty With Juliet.
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March 11th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Paris Hilton’s Birthday Bondage
OK, so everybody agrees, Paris Hilton’s overexposed, in all senses of the word. But sending people naked bondage birthday invites? That’s worth one more picture:
Via Bondage Blog.
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March 11th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
More On NSFW
Long time readers know my views on the stupid NSFW flag that too often accompanies any link to adult material on the American bits of the internet. I was delighted yesterday (after linking to Susie Bright) to discover that she’s written a long and thoughtful rant against NSFW nonsense. My favorite bit:
NSFW has no meaning in print– in paper journalism or publishing. It has no place in a newsroom or the bookstore. It only exists on the Internet– which is ironically notorious for its libertarianism. NSFW, whoever dreamed it up, is a Bowdlerization of the Web, a Scarlet Letter. It exists because fearful people believe in it, like a bad fairy. It says more about the psychological fears and prejudices of the person using it, than it does about the content in question. Why do web authors put up with it?
The “W” in NSFW seems to imply that the “workplace” is an environment where all must be defended against impropriety and loss of efficiency. But surely clock-watching bosses have noticed that employees can just as easily daydream about online seed catalogs as they can about porn.
If said it before and I’ll say it again, there’s no such thing as a website that’s not safe for work. There’s only work that’s not safe for web surfing. And if that’s the kind of work you have, you need better work, not more NSFW ghetto badges to sew on the links that will get you into workplace trouble.
March 10th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Strap-On Sex, Circa 1910
This bit of vintage strap-on porn is here to serve as yet another in the constant series of necessary reminders that there ain’t nothin’ new under the sun, or under the pornographer’s lights either. If you’re from the generation that thinks Susie Bright and her merry band of On Our Backs lesbian wenches invented the strap-on dildo, you’ve got another think coming:
