I love the juxtaposition in this photo between the classic sultry-librarian glasses (straight out of the pages of Playboy circa 1973) and the alterna-chick cute nose ring and tats:

From Hippie Goddess (a pay site, but one with an unusually large gallery of free samples).

Maybe I’m paying more attention now, or maybe other sexbloggers I visit are more willing to talk about stuff beyond the wet and friction parts. But it’s good to know that I’m not alone in trying to find my way through the mess of my life. Waking Vixen shared some thoughts on sexual autonomy that hit home.

Jane put up with a lot of this self-doubt stuff, and when I’d go on about not being able to bridge the sexual gap between how I’m imagined and how I am, she’d ask me why exactly I was so fixated on having partnered sex. The right and healthy answer for me is “because I like it and its fun,” but during those moments, the truthful answer was more along the lines of “because I need to be wanted and to prove that I can.”

How I’m imagined and how I am…..seems like a big difference between those two for me right now. Also the focusing on sex with somebody else is something I’ve been stuck in alot. I’m not hung up about masturbating, but it’s been something I do more to scratch the itch rather than to enjoy it for its own sake. And since R, there hasn’t been a lot of it. I think it’s time for both of those things to change.

Vixen closes with this:

Truly, it’s all about balance, but when other people’s balances wobble, I have to be able to make do with what I’ve got. I have to do better than that – I have to maintain and fulfill my own sense of sexual self. I can invite others in to share what I’ve got, but kick them out when they’ve overstayed their welcome.

I think R got to me as much as he did because I haven’t given a lot of attention to my own sense of sexual self. And that happened because I’ve been thinking of my sexual self as something that has to have somebody else to activate it. That isn’t true, and I know it…..or at least, I used to know it. Vixen, thank you for the words of wisdom.

Whenever you read those “all about how to have kinky sex” sites, they always emphasize the need to “negotiate your scene in advance”. Most such essays on how to conduct this eminently necessary negotiation makes the process sound stilted, complicated, wearisome, and awkward. Of course, that’s entirely at odds with my observations of the actual kinkiness that I’ve brushed into in my life — so I’ve wondered if this wasn’t some sort of “do as I say, not as I do” advice for newbies.

In partial answer to that question, I present Bret and Hiromi’s he-said-she-said dialog entitled “The Logistics Of Pee Sex.” It’s emphatically a scene negotiation, but not self-consciously so. In fact, I’d say it’s a blueprint for a frank light-hearted scene negotiation that also happens to sound like a fun conversation. Scales fall from the eyes.

I’m not often jealous of a bicycle seat, but in this case I’d consider making an exception:

Or maybe I’m just turning into a panchira freak….

A feller by the name of DangerSpouse wrote this hugely long comic essay on his wife’s bout with whooping cough (and other family tribulations). This man could retell the Book of Job and make it funny. Of particular interest to sex blog readers is this bit:

Back on the homefront, NewWifey(tm) was feeling better by her second day on meds. I know she was feeling better because even though she was still coughing with almost every single breath, when I walked in the door her first words to me were “Let’s fuck!”

Now, I had been spending my nights since her arrival on a futon in the room farthest from her bedroom, in an attempt to insulate myself from her WMD breath.

But…

“OK!”

Needless to say, with NewWifey(tm) coughing explosively every 4 or 5 seconds, one of her three orifices was effectively off limits unless I wanted to be blown up like a balloon through a very short valve. So that left two gaping Survivor finalists.

Decisions, decisions….

It finally came down to Face Time. As in, I didn’t want any.

So, “Bite the Pillow” it was.

AND IT WAS GREAT!

Here, let me show you:

Jam your thumb up your butt, and then cough. Hard. Repeatedly.

IS THAT AWESOME, OR WHAT?

Of course, I wasn’t using my thumb. Or own butt. Which made it EVEN BETTER.

(You were. So that makes you gay.)

Lemme tell you, the next three or four days were some of the happiest of my life.

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• "Sneeze For Me, Baby..."

This detail from the Japanese manga The Red Flower That Blooms Wetly has got to be the single most gratuitously pointless example of symbolic censorship ever seen. I guess the narrow diagonal white line “conceals” the very tip of the cartoon clitoris, but the rest of the image is so revealing it’s very hard to see what the concealment accomplishes. A bizarre artifact of the Japanese legal system, we must presume:

Image via J-List.

Oh fuck, it feels so good having my lips wrapped around you. Your taste… your smell… It’s been too long since I’ve had your beautiful cock hot, hard and pulsing in my mouth. I moan because this feel so fucking good and the vibration against your cock has your fists pressing down hard against my scalp.

“Mm, you like that?”

“Yes.”

Your voice is a strained whisper and God, that excites me.

More available at Salacious Desires. I’d love to be doing this tonight…..any night.