We all know that large books have been published about the effects of marriage on various sexual sensibilities. Here’s a tiny new chapter from The Smitten:

This is, hands down, the hottest picture I have ever taken of my husband and it’s not because I have a thing for Hummer-sized feet:

Shown here is among the greatest things that have happened since we walked off the aisle and into the sunset together. You see, this man right here is scrubbing the bathtub. Our bathtub. Hard. And more importantly, better than I can.

With a title like “Toasted Buns” on a sex blog, you’d expect a spanking picture. But you’d be wrong:

There’s the sort of woman who’s no fun to go camping with (“Honeeee, I need to wash my hair…”) and then then there’s the sort who is.

Via BoingBoing comes this photo of a Texas basketball player (guard Daniel Wilson) who seems to be displaying some of his equipment to the crowd:

The official story is that it’s an “unfortunate optical illusion.” Well, maybe.

Yes!! I’ll tell you a little about it all but you’ll need to follow me…..
I decided that I wasn’t going to stay home and mope on Valentines Day, instead I went to a bar that has decent food. I haven’t been there in awhile and it was fun. One of my neighbors that I used to help before I moved was there. His wife hated it when he went out with the guys so I was surprized to see him there, especially on Valentines Day. They split up. I knew they had problems but I didn’t expect that.

Funny how I noticed how cute he is right after he said that. (Not really, I noticed before, but now it was okay to tell myself how cute he is.) We take turns buying drinks and pretty soon it’s just the two of us sitting at the bar and talking. After a couple rounds he tells me he always thought I was cute in my trashy work clothes but when he saw me at the bar in a dress he didn’t know it was me because I was so pretty. I blushed and put my hand on his knee. Instant. Electricity.

We couldn’t get together for a date until last Saturday. It was nice, real comfy since we already are friends, but we both felt that electricity sparking between us. So we ended up at my apartment…..and I forget who gave into that electricity first, but we ended up in my bed having totally hot sex. Nothing really naughty…..just the quenching of deep thirst.

And wouldn’t you know it, I get no breaks. When he pulls out of me his cock is red. Bright red. It isn’t the usual color a girl expects from down there. He didn’t hurt me at all and there’s no obvious damage on him, so he’s looking at me with a what-the-fuck look and I’m looking at him with a what-the-fuck look.

It was me. I was still bleeding on Monday, so I went to a doctor. She said that it’s nothing to worry about and that things get out of practice, especially as a woman gets older and doesn’t have regular sex (the first time I’ve been called ‘older,’ how much better can this get?).

He’s been totally sweet about it. He’s called every day to check on me, and today he sent me a pink rose with a card saying ‘No more red – please?’ The bleeding has stopped….we both have Sunday off…. I just sent him a white rose with ‘Lather rinse repeat’ on the card.

And I really wouldn’t care if I did repeat it all, he’s been that cool about it.

A wee bit of sexual sanity from Steff:

My lovers have carte blanche to roll over and begin playing with me anytime they want. They know there’s a chance I will say no or push ’em away, but a better chance I’ll say yes, and most importantly, they know I’d never fault ’em for trying. And you shouldn’t either. You should never leave your lover feeling trepidatious about sharing their desire with you. That should go without saying, but fuck, one could write a book about it.

Indeed one could. I’ve known men who dared not try to initiate sex with their wives, for fear that they would be (and this is a quote) “punished”.

Via Bondage Blog comes word of Gucci bondage fashion in the form of a golden shackle attached to a clasp handbag:

I wonder if it comes with a set of matching leg irons and belly chain?

CeeCi over at Giardino del Piacere got herself a good shave with one of them newfangled vibrating razors. And then when the thing was done, it was time for the next course:

After finishing my shave, he treated me to a bit of fun. He popped the cartridge off the razor, turned it on, then turned me on. The little vibrator he had in his hand was a delight. He knows precisely where my most delicate spots are and gently placed the tip there. If he applied too much pressure I wouldn’t feel much, so he would tap me gently. He told me later that when he placed it directly on the tip of my clit, my eyes bugged out like Jim Carrey’s did in “The Mask”.

Before I could become over-sensitized he stopped teasing me with our new found toy. He turned off the overhead light and placed the table lamp on the floor. Taking a hand towel, he tucked it into the neck of his shirt like a napkin then pulled himself to the table to feast upon my pussy. Within moments I had my first screaming orgasm. I was a rather emotional release as I found myself crying once the spasms began settling down. I reassured my darling I was fine, just got a bit overwhelmed.