I have a Top Cock for the week, but I’m stuck at work where I can’t enjoy sneaking peeks at the picture, or publishing it here for you. :( I might have enough energy left when I get home to share, but its looking like he’ll hafta wait until tomorrow. I’m really sorry.

Just one more month of this nasty tax season, though. I think I can make it. :plain:

Lots of teeth and tongue. I have fingerprint bruises on my hips and he actually gave me a hickey on my neck that I didn’t notice until later. I haven’t had an actual hickey that anyone who wasn’t intimate with me could see since high school. It was silly and thank goodness I don’t have to be anywhere important for the next few days, but I like it.

From today’s post over at Freya’s House of Dreams. My mom still teases me about not being sensible enough to be embarrassed about a hickey. Why should I be ashamed that someone liked sucking on me? :)

If you’re interested in American sexual history, you’ll enjoy this link: The History of Gay Bathhouses. Thanks to Peep Show Stories.

So when the man said “I like to take my girl out for walks in the woods” I guess I didn’t really have the right mental picture:

But seriously, I don’t know who the photographer is. I found this one on Usenet.

It’s a truism in the internet age that sex drives the development of technology. Perhaps this photo gallery of bronze sex toys from ancient China underscores the point, with an example from the days when metallurgy was the cutting edge of high tech:

Or, maybe he’s sick…..what else would explain him not posting yoni or related pictures to balance the cock ones? Well, I’m here to make up for his oversight. ;) Both of these lovely ladies are going to be featured soon at Domai.

To answer the requests I’ve had to post pictures of myself, I’ll say that each of these girls resembles me in some way…..back when I was that age. So there ya go. :P

This anecdote from My Neighbors Are Hoors sounds like something you’d catch a drunken sailor singing about:

I asked the taxi driver one last thing.

“Now,” says I. “I’ve heard a rumour of a one legged hoor down at the harbour. Is this true?”

I’ve heard this for a few years now and always thought it was just a rumour, but…

“Oh aye. There certainly is. Her ma wheels her down and leaves here there. She just sits with a short skirt and a bottle to keep her warm.”

What’s more, I’ll bet she makes the odd stump fetishist very happy.