Two tidbits today from the vast and tasty smorgasbord that is Panties Panties Panties. First, the anal sex. There’s a recent post called “Ass: The Gateway Drug“. The post combines plenty of prurient detail with an anal sex tip that’s not always found in those dry how-to articles; namely, that good humor is at least as important as the standard “use oceans of lube” advice. But it’s the title that amused me most. It reminded me of the ancient joke: “Why don’t [insert your favorite moralistic prigs here] have sex standing up? Because it could lead to dancing!”

Tidbit the second, nonsexual: In a spiritual echo of my recent slam against office work, Hiromi posted about idleness and wage slavery and included a vignette about soul-crushing commutes:

Today I was stuck in Austin rush hour traffic. Grey-faced, prune-lipped, baggy-eyed commuters with cell phones grafted to their heads crammed in their metal hutches inching along in the 105 degree heat. And for what?

Werk. Jaabs. Wage slavery.

Folks, the horrifying thing about all of this is that it’s voluntary; there are ways out of the rat race, but you have to look hard and perhaps be willing to give up (at least temporarily) some of the excellent pellets they feed you.

After having wallowed in BDSM-and-porn hatred in the last couple of posts, it’s time for some good old fashioned unapologetic girl-on-girl bondage porn, with some toilet dunking to push a few more buttons:

From Wired Pussy. And there’s nary a patriarch (nor even a dick!) in sight. (Unless, of course, you count the electrified stainless steel butt plugs in the shoot this picture came from.)

I don’t think there’s much chance I have anything philosphically in common with the woman who writes Den of the Biting Beaver. Indeed, her views strike me as horrifying and repressive; she hates pornography, reveres Andrea Dworkin, and slammed her own 14-year old son for having the temerity to suggest that fighting and dying in a war might be worse than being raped during one. (In her own words: “I stomped out that little glimmer of Patriarchal nonsense before it had taken a real root in his tender little psyche.” Nice parenting, yo.) Worse yet, she actually believes in thought crime; she’s got a detailed theory of why it’s wrong and bad to fantasize about things you shouldn’t or wouldn’t actually do.

So why the attention? In a word, quality. Her posts are entertaining-tending-toward-rants, well-written, considered in the sense of acknowledging and addressing obvious counter-arguments, and fun to read. If everybody in this multi-sided culture war we’re fighting came to battle in the same spirit as she does, we would all be having a lot more fun.

Via Bondage Blog comes this link to an interesting discourse on advertising images of women. But I was amazed by the casual one-sentence dismissal of kinky people, in a line that calls an image of a “‘woman-in-pain-but-she-loves-it-really” “misogynist iconography”.

There is, of course, a vast community of women who enjoy bondage and/or pain, plus the people who love those women. So now all these people (a huge chunk of the BDSM community) are misogynists? I’ve read that passage several times, and I just can’t see any way to read it that doesn’t attribute misogyny to all BDSM erotica with female subjects. I thought those sorts of baseless generalizations went out of fashion when civilized people started laughing at Andrea Dworkin.

Here’s the “misogynist iconography” in question:

What grosses me out about that image is that it appears to be one of those advertising images where they’ve used Photoshop as a “digital rack” to stretch the model, so that she appears unnaturally long in the torso and limbs. That’s gotta hurt.

I’m a small town boy at heart. Setting aside the sometimes-amusing literary conceits of porn sites like Street Blowjobs (sorry, boys, but the young ladies sucking on “Bob Incognito’s” prong are recruited in the usual porn industry fashion and they know they are on camera), I would normally assume that even low-end commercial sex transactions are unlikely to occur in broad sunlight within feet of beer-swigging pedestrians. And so, it’s possible this photograph is not what it looks like:

Although that posture is hard to explain, it’s possible he’s just trying to give her a discreet hit on his device for incinerating illicit chemicals. Heck, maybe she’s trying to help untie the tangled knots of his friendship bracelets, using her teeth to worry the strings loose. It’s possible….

But then, it’s also possible (and perhaps more likely) that more things happen on the mean streets of the big city than I’d previously imagined.

Similar Sex Blogging:

• Public Blowjob, Public Spectacle
• Stadium Blowjob?
• Parking Lot Blowjob On Candid Camera
• Dworkin on Blowjobs

I’ve always wondered what the deal was with those clear plastic penis pumps — they are advertised as a penis enlargement tool, but what good is a huge penis that’s inside a hard plastic vacuum chamber? Here’s someone who set out to find out:

So last week Juicy Wife and I ordered some sex toys (one of which was a penis pump). Saturday evening, while Wife was out on the town, I got a chance to play around with said pump. The sole reason I got it was pure novelty — what would it be like to have a massive circus schlong for all of 8 seconds?

At first, it was quite enjoyable. I slipped the chamber over my (non-erect) self and began pumping away. With this model of penis pump, your cock rests inside this little sleeve at the base and as your dick expands, it gets slowly pulled upward through the sleeve — which was actually kind of pleasureable. (If you lube up first. Must use lube with this thing.) My favorite part was when the head finally popped through the sleeve and up into the chamber; it had grown fucking ENORMOUS. I kept pumping away, drawing my cock further north and swelling it to even larger proportions. I got this weird thrill, like I was a mad scientist bringing Frankenstein to life. IT’S ALIIIIVE!!

After that, things went downhill. The little sleeve is very, very tight and doesn’t actually expand along with your growing penis. So you’re left with one half of your cock looking gigantic and swollen, and the other half compressed within the tiny restrictive sleeve. This also makes it nearly impossible to remove … you literally have to fight your own penis to get it off. After wrestling with it for 3 minutes, I had nearly lost all my sex drive.

So I wouldn’t recommend the cock pump. Unless you have a very narrow penis that can rest comfortably in that sleeve.

He went there so you don’t have to.

I’ve long preached to anyone who would listen that the old-fashioned “square” office job is deleterious to everyone’s health, welfare, liberty, human dignity, sweetness of breath, semen flavor, you name it. Now comes the unsuprising word from Just One Bite that it’s bad news for the shape of your ass, too:

Strangest result of not having an office job anymore: my ass is changing shape. Really! I have wide hips but small buttocks, which have gotten rounder and firmer since I stopped squashing them on a desk chair for 10-12 hours each day. Feel free to grab, pinch, or fondle at will.