The Girl With A One Track Mind says that good sex is all in the chemistry:

You see, of the men I have slept with — that made my fire burn from the chemistry — not all, even many, of them were that skilled in the sack. But they still made my pants soaked and enabled me to climax — repeatedly — when I was with them.

Given the choice between the most skilled lover in the world and one that is clumsy with his hands, but who — when he whispers in my ear “god you’ve got me so turned on” — makes me drip in anticipation of his touch, I know who I would pick, and it wouldn’t be Mr Loverlover. I’m of the opinion that every man can be taught (if necessary) how to please a woman well; but if there’s no chemistry there to begin with? Forget it.

This might sound harsh — “ladies, get rid of him if he doesn’t make your pants wet before he touches you” — but, fuck it, it’s true. Every good lover I have had was someone I had chemistry with; the ones I didn’t (and yes, there’ve been many of those too) — even with all the best technique in the world — didn’t make me come (as hard, as much, or even, at all).

I’ve long suspected it, but now it’s been confirmed:

“Good grammar is hott.”

Sorry for the light posting recently. I spent my weekend fighting off a spring chest cold and doing tax paperwork. It’s important to get that stuff right, because if you don’t, what happens to you is akin to the cartoon below, except it’s in a sterile room full of 1970s metal filing cabinets under bright flourescent lights that buzz and flicker:

Here we see a sex blog writer (a mature male specimen of Bloggis Sexualis) hard at work in his natural habitat:

No, ladies and gentlemen, that’s not me — it came to me as a circulating email funny. I have only two more words to say:

WAFFLE BUTT!

I know a number of ladies who are fascinated by the appearance and concept of the corset, but are intimidated by the sheer engineering and historical mystique of the things. Thus, when I stumbled over this no-nonsense basic guide to corsets by Am from Our Kinky Blog, I thought it might be worth sharing. Think of it as me just doing my little bit to help exaggerate the curvatures of English-speaking womanhood:

[Corsets] are incredibly comfortable to wear, so long as you take a bit of time in getting to know your corset, and letting it get to know you. A corset, like shoes, becomes more comfortable with wear; and – again like shoes – needs to adjust to your shape.

Similar Sex Blogging:

• Pretty In A Corset
• Christians Take Off Brass Corsets

Although I linked early to Ethnorotica because of its general high style and because it’s the not-so-secret project of Lex from the excellent Naked Loft Party, I’m not fundamentally sympathetic to its “shine a light on the best in ethnic erotica” mission. I guess I’m still old-fashioned enough to dream of a world where a pretty naked woman is judged not by the color of her skin, but by the contents of her birthday suit. When it comes to ethnicity in porn, I myself am frequently oblivious; I’ve posted pretty pictures on this blog and been taken aback by comments that mentioned the color of the models, because that was not one of the features I noticed. Frankly, people who do notice make me a little nervous; I have a hard time imagining benign reasons for categorizing people by color in any context.

All of which is by way of lengthy introduction to this vintage postcard beauty, which may not be exactly the sort of ethnorotica Lex has in mind:

This postcard (which is probably pre-1970s, judging from the scalloped edges) appears to be a fairly late entry in the 120-year-old category of “ethnic nude” postcard photography. I’m not generally inclined to post these vintage postcard pictures, because their focus on “ethnic” identity strikes me as a poor reason to take or display nude photos. But beauty is beauty, and sometimes good art (or good porn) happens for bad reasons. I find this young woman’s picture just too pretty not to share.

Similar Sex Blogging:

• French Nude Daguerreotype
• Not Ignorant, Adamant
• Vintage Nude Postcard
• The Blowjob Curse

Here’s a sort of fun link, courtesy of Violet Blue. The Taste Tester: One Woman’s Attempt To Help Men Taste Better chronicles Ava’s attempts to make her boyfriend’s semen taste better through dietary changes. Should be fun to see what she learns.

Fair warning, though: by the sex positive standards of this audience, Ava’s a bit porn-negative and quick to call her boyfriend an idiot for wanting to come on her tits. On the one hand, she’s being a fine sport about the whole semen-in-the-mouth business; but on the other hand, a man ought to be able to express a fantasy without having his lady want to “smack some sense into him.” Hint: When a man tells you he’s “horrified with himself” and “acting like an idiot”, he’s most likely backpedalling furiously and regretting his moment of honesty, rather than feeling actually repentant. Good luck getting the next fantasy out of him!