Well, it could just be that someone got drunk and fell asleep awkwardly with their head in somebody’s lap. It could be:

From Deadspin.

Another lovely vintage photograph:

You can feel the autumn in the air where I am, and winter will be here before we know it. And that, of course, means frolicking in the snow! But there’s too much cold steel in this picture for my taste:

At least he’s wearing a sock!

A woman inquired recently in the comments on another post what the big deal is, with the whole anal sex thing. Of which I was reminded, when I found a woman with an enthusiastic answer:

I love having my ass filled. The plug we have, although adequate, could be a bit bigger. When I read about vibrating plugs, my little sphincter reacts with a happy twinge. The feeling of cold lube touching the rim of my ass is so divine. The first finger inserted changes the rate of my heart, I find my entire being focused on the sensations I’m receiving and the ecstasy that will soon follow. The first resistance as MoJo’s cock slides in to meet my tight ring prompts me to relax and welcome him into my body. God, I love having my ass filled.

From the Giardino Del Piacere archives.

It’s funny how once I make a post on a subject like electrosex, I immediately start finding other references to it. For instance, I just found another story of a woman who tried out a cattle prod, and liked it:

For me, the sensation of being totally enclosed, (even my toes!) with ice in all the hot spots and a vibrating toothbrush humming and buzzing along the plastic was amazing; nails on skin that was exposed and vulnerable due to a carefully cut hole in the wrap were shiver-inducing. Made with safety scissors, of course.

I had a chance to test a boundary of mine that night. You know how some boundaries are kind of fluid, or grey? The type where your partner can ease you over it, gradually introduce you to something. Well this boundary of mind didn’t have an “ease line”?. I either did it. Or I didn’t. “There is no try” to quote Yoda.

Jennifer, our class facilitator, mentor, instructor and generally amazing sex educator, had a new toy … an electric cattle prod. Now I have this thing with electricity. It likes me. I mean, it really likes me. My muscles react way over the top whenever I come into contact with it. Apparently, it’s due to a high salt content in my blood. Weird, but true. In any case, it means I conduct really, really well, so electrical stimulation is INTENSE.

So there I was, laid out on the carpet in a warm room, wrapped from shoulders to toes in clingy, clear plastic film, and blind-folded. Jennifer’s voice drifted over towards me. She was speaking to the pair of women next to me.

“Do you know what I have with me? It’s my cattle prod.” Anxiety tightens my belly muscles, and my breathing hitches a bit. I’m right beside them. Next in line. For a force I’m so fearful of. But I know nothing will happen unless I say “Yes. Yes, I can handle that.”

From Activist On A Mission.

At first glance, I thought this beckoning woman was dressed and undressed for Mardi Gras. But I took a second look at her, um, decorative elements, and realized that her modesty, what she has left of it, is protected by the Ferrari logo. She’s not a parade goer, she’s a motoring enthusiast!

So when I saw Susie Bright’s essay on electric sex (in which she responds to the question “Have you ever experienced electricity during sex?”) my first thought was that she was talking about, you know, electrosex: cattle prods, electric zapper paddles, violet wands, fancy tech-wet-dream electrostim gear, that sort of thing. Well, she wasn’t — although her discourse on sexual electricity is, as always, worth your time.

But there is, it turns out, a blog that is about all the electric sex, the kind with actual electrons and visible sparks and twitching and whatnot. It’s the Electrosex Blog — make sure you’re well grounded before reading!