So I was looking at the Best Of Blog nominations (because somebody told me ErosBlog was on there, albeit in a mystifying category with a horrifying and ridiculous scarlet-letter disclaimer after our name.) I was delighted to discover that the enormously entertaining Mistress Matisse is a finalist in the best sex blog category.

Now, obviously I like her blog a lot, or it likely wouldn’t be at the very top of my sex blog list. (Lower down, position doesn’t mean anything; but blogs near the top are all ones much liked by Aphrodite, The Nymph, or me.) Matisse combines an entertaining writing style I can’t even manage to dream of having with a commendable willingness to write about her own personal and professional exploits, which are (from the perspective of a country boy like me) themselves rather eye-opening. The combination ensures that her blog is the first link I click every morning when I open my blog. I therefore commend her to your voting finger. You know what to do.

What? Not convinced yet? Smart and funny don’t do it for ya? So you’re one of those horndogs who wouldn’t cast a vote for Pope without shouting “show us yer tits” first? We got ya covered:

Unreduced photo here.

If Matisse doesn’t do it for you, there are other worthy candidates on the sex blog list, including at least one set of old blogfriends that would be very close in the contest for my fickle affections if they only posted more regularly. (Hi, Mike-and-Michelle!) But I promise you, there’s nobody else on that sex blog list who would make a better Queen of The Sex Bloggers….

Bacchus’ post on increased-ejaculate spam and concerns prompted a pleasant stroll down memory lane for me, with an interesting twist–I compared my experiences with various lovers, with the hope of coming up with something helpful from a female perspective. Don’t know that I’ve accomplished that, but I’ll still share my thoughts.

Bacchus is dead right that what goes on inside can be, er, hard to measure. But if a lady is tight enough, and paying sufficient attention, she can feel something that correlates, apparently, to the force of her partner’s ejaculation. At least I can….or could. (Not having a steady sex life, partner-wise, I’ve lost some muscle tone. :( ) I’m sure I’m not alone in having that ability.

Where it might become more of an issue is externally-oriented play, as some commenters focused on. While shooting a huge load is probably highly desirable for bukkake, and sometimes on other occasions, there are definitely times when a gal doesn’t want to have to be concerned about telltale white streaks on skin, clothing, or in her hair. (But then again, there are definitely times when it’s part of the lingering fun after sex to wonder if anybody can put the clues together and figure out that you’ve just had some naughty fun!)

Where I’ve noticed volume the most is in fellatio, no surprise there. I’ve had gushers and dribblers, and you know what? The amount of the ejaculate never seems directly tied to how much my partner seems to be enjoying himself. That’s even true for those male actors out there who like to give the impression that every sex act is the ultimate thrill, never to be topped [big yawn].

What really gets me off is knowing I’m getting him off–genuine pleasure, not the going-for-the-Oscar type stuff. The slow, subtle increase in muscle tension in his abs, thighs, and butt muscles…..the pelvic thrusts (if he’s in a position that allows ’em)….the changes in his breathing…especially the ragged breathing as he gets close to coming…oh my, is it getting warm in here? Hearing that breathing gets me going so much that I don’t care about load and velocity, I just want the explosion!!!

And last, I do enjoy giving prostate stimulation–only from the outside so far for me, no heavy-duty milking–to guys who aren’t hung up about being touched there. It seems to always add to the intensity of his orgasm, whether or not it increases his ejaculate. And if it’s better for him, it’s better for me! :D

Nobody expects very much from spam. But most of it makes at least a certain sort of sense. Bigger penis? Sure, there’s a market. Harder penis? Why not? Breast enlargements? Cheaper mortgages? Debt reduction? Fake Rolex watches? I probably know somebody who wants each of these things.

But an increased ejaculate volume? Who do I know that worries about their inability to make a big enough mess during sex? No, on second thought, don’t tell me.

This is an actual spam I just got, with editorial comments in brackets:

Has your cum ever dribbled and you wish it had shot out?

[Er, no. Or, I’m not sure about the dribbling. Usually I’m not looking; usually it’s in a warm moist place that I can’t see into. As for wishing it had shot out, why? This ain’t a peeing contest, boys. There are, so far as I know, no prizes for volume or velocity.]

Have you ever wanted to impress your girl with a huge cumshot?

[I’ve frequently wanted to impress my girl, yes. But is she impressed by a huge cumshot? Uh, Nymph? Is there something you haven’t been telling me? Is there in fact any woman in the whole freakin’ world who cares whether a cumshot is huge or not?]

[. . . . . sound of crickets . . . . . ]

[PRODUCT] is the only site to offer an all natural male enhancement
formula that is proven to increase your sperm volume by up to 500%.
Our highly potent, volume enhancing formula will give our results
in days and comes with an impressive 100% guarantee.

Imagine the difference (look and feel) between dribbling your cum
compared to shooting out burst after burst.

[The look? Where exactly is this wanker ejaculating? And exactly how little sensation is he getting from sex, that he’s worring about the feel of his ejaculation? Hello, you’re supposed to be in sensory overload just then!]

Try [PRODUCT] now! and with our money back guarantee you have absolutely nothing to lose!

[Riiiight — because taking pills with absolutely no information on what’s in them is never dangerous. “Your herbal poison eroded my heart valves, can I have my $19.99 back please?]

But seriously, folks, and all ridicule aside — is there anybody among my readers, male or female, who worries about the force and volume of male ejaculate? If so, please chime in with a comment and an explanation!

I’m still working out what I want to tell, and what’s best left locked away in my mind, from my recent escapades. Parts of the adventure were lots of fun (here’s a hint: some of my sexploration wishes have been fulfilled :D ), but other things were unexpected, and caused some tensions between R and me. Short form is, I think R and I have played out. But it was mostly good while it lasted, and it turned out to be very, very smart of me not to point him to this blog. That’s why the extended Aphrodite absence….I didn’t want any traces to here around for him to accidentally find.

Anyway, one of the places R and I went was on an awesome ski trip to the Great White North–Canada! It was highly amusing to find the image below tucked in my inbox when I got back:

According to the sweet friend who sent me the pic, the hair designer calls this the “Moose Look”. I ain’t never seen no moose that looks anything like this before…but she does seem to have a nice rack (if you can find it under all the blue fluff ;) ).

Someone asked me for “sex predictions” for 2005….given my recent experiences, plus the ongoing crusading crap from the U.S.’s current “leaders”, it makes me queasy to even think about what might be coming down the pike. :( Uhh, how about we just scroll back up to look at the Moose Girl again instead?

Hi everyone! Didn’t mean to disappear from the world for as long as I did…but I think that turned out for the best. Got in yesterday from holiday-making with R, and am exhausted. There’s so much to tell, I don’t know where to begin…..or even if I should tell all. It was, um, intense in both good and bad ways. I think I should get another cup of coffee and more sleep before I try to say anything else about it all.

So for now, I’ll just say that I hope all of you had a happy solstice/Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa (did I leave anybody out?), and that your new year started with a bang. :hehe:

OK, so I’ll grant that the costume is eye-catching; and sure, the little bit of (fake?) spooge at the edge of the mouth-hole earns realism points. If that’s really a tissue dispenser on the top of her head, I suppose there’s a certain gonzo panache to that, as well. But at the end of the day, all I can do is shake my head and wonder: “What was she thinking?” Or maybe: “Is that you, Charlotte Simmons?”

Picture found here on Little Midgets.

It’s January 1, my head hurts just a smidge, but life is stunningly good. The Nymph and I spent last night drinking bad champagne and marvelling at how great a year 2004 was for us, and marvelling again at just how bright 2005 is looking. Today we’re going to nap and eat — there’s a big turkey in the house, and somebody else is cooking it. So not much blog for you today!

Still, I couldn’t leave you entirely in the lurch. Will some naked girl/girl wrestling see you through the weekend? Here’s hoping!

Thanks to Ultimate Surrender for the picture.