ErosBlog

The Sex Blog Of Record
 
 
October 12th, 2006 -- by Bacchus

Toe Licking and Foot Washing

Random photo from the very large image collection, featuring bondage and foot licking:

woman in bondage licking toes

I actually know some folks who attend “foot washing” events, but they claim it’s a religious thing (emulating Jesus) and not a fetish thing. I suppose skepticism on my part would seem churlish. In any case, I don’t think they do it the way the girl in the photo does it.

 
October 12th, 2006 -- by Bacchus

Fullfilling His Ass Fantasy (Not To Mention His Ass)

Here (from Damp Silk) is a loving tale of a wife who discovered the fantasy her husband was oh-so-secretly exploring on the internet and (rather than freaking out) set out to fulfill it:

My husband has a secret fantasy life. I’m absolutely serious. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. Doesn’t every man? Don’t all men want us to be maids in the home, chefs in the kitchen, accountants with the checkbook and whores in the bedroom? Don’t all men fantasize daily about various sorts of interesting sexual things? Yes. Of course they do. But for me, this fantasy was a bit different. Because this one involved . . . the ass.

My husband has had my ass in every way imaginable. He has touched, stroked and caressed, pinched, spanked and paddled, teased, toyed and tongued, poked, prodded and probed and quite frankly royally fucked that object of his obsession. He has taken me, and my ass, to new heights of delight. If my ample cheeks were the focus of his interest, it was certainly fine with me. But, as I soon discovered, it wasn’t my ass he was interested in. It was his own!

I discovered this accidentally one evening. I was reading emails, deleting junk, and catching up with private messages. Unexpectedly I accessed a secret account; apparently he’d forgotten to log out after he checked his own mailbox. I found several messages from ladies he’d recently chatted with. They discussed their talks in intimate detail, very sexually explicit. We both enjoy sexy chat, so that didn’t concern me, but the topic was a bit startling, and it both shocked and aroused me. My man, tall and large, mustached and muscular, wanted to be fucked in his ass.

Should I pretend I never saw the account? No. Not a chance. Should I confront angrily or tearfully, which could potentially cause a big fight resulting in him hiding more secrets from me? Also not an option for me. Hmmm. This could become a serious problem in our marriage if not handled properly.

As I am a self-starter, and somewhat of a devious gal, I embark upon the only choice available to me. I go shopping. But not to the mall, oh no. I head to the naughty bookstore, with its wide assortment of marital aids. It’s time to fulfill a fantasy. Yummy. I’m on a mission!

 
October 10th, 2006 -- by Bacchus

Best Beer Wench Ever

It’s October:

topless beer wench

Who’s going to Octoberfest?

 
October 9th, 2006 -- by Bacchus

The Anal Hiccup Cure

Via Boing Boing comes word that persistent hiccups (no laughing matter, some people have them for years, and can’t even swallow solid food because of it) can sometimes be stopped via “digital rectal massage”:

A 60-year-old man with acute pancreatitis developed persistent hiccups after insertion of a nasogastric tube. Removal of the latter did not terminate the hiccups which had also been treated with different drugs, and several manoeuvres were attempted, but with no success. Digital rectal massage was then performed resulting in abrupt cessation of the hiccups. Recurrence of the hiccups occurred several hours later, and again, they were terminated immediately with digital rectal massage. No other recurrences were observed.

One imagines that a finger is not the only appendage that would work, which immediately makes me think of a great approach for those of you whose main squeeze has painted on the stop sign. Next time they get the hiccups that won’t go away, forget the drink of water, the brown paper bag, the sudden scare. Instead, say “Honey, I know a sure cure…”

 
October 8th, 2006 -- by Bacchus

Sex Personals Massacre, Redux

Although most of the sex commentators I like and respect appear to have climbed on the “Fortuny Is Evil” fleshpile in connection with The Great Craigslist Sex Personals Massacre Of 2006 (I include without limitation Violet Blue (who started out thoughtful but is now namecalling), Mistress Matisse, and Dan Savage), I’ve been disappointed that their united condemnation of Fortuny has been intensely personal, without really coming to grips with the interesting question of what, in a rigorous ethical sense, his great crimes seem to have been. OK, so he’s a “prick” and what he did was wrong” (Matisse), but what moral obligation did he violate? He “sucks” (Savage) and he’s a “creepy guy” and a “jerk” (Violet) — all of which may be true, I don’t know the guy, but what does it have to do with what he actually did?

The more I think about this, the more I come around to thinking that what he did to get the howling mob after him (and by howling mob, I refer more broadly to others who have weighed in on the controversy; the folks I’ve quoted here are the calm and thoughtful ones) was he violated outdated and unreasonable social expectations.

Savage talks about “privacy violations”, Violet about “basic privacy and communication rules of conduct”, but neither of them come to grips with my point, which is that it’s not inherently reasonable to expect random strangers to preserve your privacy. You don’t have any expectation of privacy in an email you send to a stranger; or, if you do, there’s something wrong in your thinking. At best, you’re relying on their social graces — I’ll go so far as to agree that it’s polite to protect the confidences of strangers — but how many random strangers exhibit the manners you’d prefer? Not enough, never enough, especially not when something important — like your privacy — is on the line.

I am heartened to see some understanding of my other point, which is that a lot of responders to sex ads are misbehaving in various ways, and thus are exposing themselves (heh) to more risk than they are comfortable accepting. These miscreants (and I refer specifically to the virtual flashers who slammed the comments on my last post with “the slut was asking for it” self-justifications) seem to be the most outraged, because (like virtually everyone else except me, it seems) they feel their misbehaviour ought to be cloaked by the privacy-protecting practices of their intended victims, and they aren’t happy to learn that their expectations of privacy aren’t as reasonable as they’d hoped.

To which I say, “Waah.”

Violet seems to get this part, writing:

Think of it like this: when you upload a porn photo to Flickr, you are in violation of their Terms of Use rules and they take it down. When you use your work email address to answer an explicit sex ad, you are essentially in violation of your employer’s TOU. If you cheat on your wife, you’re in violation of your marriage’s TOU. In his “experiment”, Jason Fortuny violated several ethical and social TOUs that many of us accept as basic privacy and communication rules of conduct.

But not everyone outed in The Craigslist Experiment was violating one of life’s TOUs — I’ll even argue that the majority of the people who had their personal info revealed didn’t care, or notice.

I don’t, obviously, agree that Fortuny violated any TOUs — if anything, he merely ignored one of those meaningless and overreaching shrinkwrap EULAs on boxed software, one that others are attempting but failing to impose on him, one that he never agreed with and which consequently has no moral or ethical juice. (There’s a huge difference between breaking a promise and failing to behave as expected. The ad in question did not say “All replies kept confidential.” If it had, this argument wouldn’t be happening. Then Fortuny’d be the obvious jerk everyone says he is.)

But I do agree with Violet that folks who were using Craigslist in an ethically appropriate way — which is to say, folks who were ethically free to be looking for rough kinky sex, and who weren’t simply using their response as a vessel for their virtual self-exposure kink “because the slut was obviously asking for it”, folks who weren’t violating any of life’s TOUs, folks with nothing to be ashamed of — these people couldn’t be hurt in the Massacre, and weren’t.

Leaving my sympathy for the remainder muted at best.

Why, exactly, is everyone in favor of a social privacy rule that primarily benefits adulturers, virtual flashers, and other people who engage in online sexual behavior that they can’t defend, proudly and publicly, in their own lives and communities? Why is it so hard to understand that all online behavior is public?

 
October 6th, 2006 -- by Bacchus

Muddy Man

Dominatrix Isis Love, it seems, likes her men dirty:

dirty man

Possibly it’s because she has so much fun washing them up:

how dirty men get clean

What do you think, ladies? Does he clean up real good?

Pictures courtesy of Men In Pain.

 
October 6th, 2006 -- by Bacchus

How Not To Write A Winning Personal

Sometimes you gotta hope you’re reading a spoof, but this one doesn’t feel that way. Party Girl has found the winningest personal ad ever. After a long rant about the unmarriageability of American women, we find this prize-winning self-marketing material just a few sentences from the end:

Speaking English is an option, understanding English is important and wrestling experience is a plus. I finish what I start and I’m the type of man you could grow old with. I’m ardently set in my ways and my mantra has become “My way or the highway.” I’m not crazy – I’m realistic and contrary to popular belief I haven’t lost my marbels – I’ve lost my patience. Additionally, if you wouldn’t mind moving in with my parents that would be great (after marriage of course).

His phone is ringing off the hook…

 
 
cupid