I don’t recall ever linking to a description of fisting before, which is enough reason to do it now. (There’s also the faint hope of getting risible letters from the trained attack lawyers of the J.M. Smucker Company.) From Diary of a Slut (November 7 entry):

Ealain got out her big strap-on and harness and some high heeled boots. Her dick is so much bigger than mine or any guy I know, and it never gets limp. That boy can take some buttloving, with me just kinda playing with his nips while Ealain fucked the daylights out of him. Now he had told us that he enjoyed fisting, and told me I could sit in after she was done, so I gloved up, stuck a few more Crisco balls in his bomb bay doors, and covered my gloves with silicon lube. His butt was really inviting, and it was fun to put a few fingers in the back door to play with the prostate from the inside while I was putting a couple of fingers of the other hand in through the scrotum to play with the prostate from the outside, and apparently that was a new experience for him. Yippie kay yay!

Crisco balls? Oh my! I guess it’s not just for biscuits any more.

Thanks to Karl Elvis for the link.

There are few more enduring staples in the sex advice literary world than that old favorite, the “how to give a blowjob” tutorial. This blog has linked to a fair number of them. But this one from Hoot Island is the first I’ve ever seen that puts the tutorial in fictional form. And it’s pretty entertaining, too:

“This is serious,” Janie said. Her eyes started to tear up. “I’m gonna lose him, he’s gonna dump me for some skank who can take her teeth out!”

Erica put her arm over her bud’s shoulders and hugged her. “No, he’s not. He’s not that shallow, and even blind people can tell he loves you. Besides, I’d kick his ass if he hurts you and he knows it.”

Janie sniffled. “What’d you do, tell him that?”

“Yep. The night we met him, while you were in the bathroom.”

“You didn’t!”

“Told him I had an electric juicer at home that would accommodate his testicles perfectly,” Erica said smugly. “But really, he’s a great guy, don’t worry about it. He appreciates it when you do it, right?”

There was another long silence.

Similar Sex Blogging:

• Kink University: Deep Kissing, Bathtub Sex
• Kink University: Anal Sex 101
• Kink University
• Rain DeGrey On Blowjobs And Effort
• Bondage And The Happy Man

First, a friendly Erosblog public service announcement for those who might have missed it. Rori, formerly of One Girl’s Life, has changed her blog home to Tuckle Rori. Hope you’re feeling better soon, sweetie! (And could we persuade you to share an explanation of what “tuckle” means? :) )

In catching up with her, I discovered another item that was instantly put on my “I want it!” list: Cock O’lada.

What is Cock O’lada? I’m not sure, really. The web site for the product is in German, which I cannot read. But check out this picture:

I agree with Rori, that swigging on this while cruising down the highway would be lots of fun. Or pulling it out of my backpack while hiking or biking, and taking a good long pull on it while others gape.

The Cock O’lada web site says that it’s “TropicErotic” flavored–fruit punch. Does “ohne” mean it does or doesn’t have alcohol?

If that doesn’t sound good, you can get other flavors; they come in different-colored cocktubes:

Or maybe those contain substances other than drinks…what would flavors called “Dark Glide” and “Hello Pussy” taste like?? Translation of the page into English (the link says their English page is “coming soon!”), anyone?

A friend forwarded notice of the right’s current prurient interest: the size of the VP’s penis. Apparently sometime during the campaign the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel ran a photo of Dick Cheney–whose nickname is “Big Dick”–but then noticed it was a bit too revealing. As word spread, the quest began to find the photo, and it was successful:

Photo snagged from Wonkette.

What I really want to know is, how did Cheney’s parents know what to name him way back then? :laugh:

As I said in a comment to my entry yesterday, I decided to have some fun last night all by myself. I made a cake.

Not just any cake, though…a cake with a special shape…and I chose a different color for the marzipan icing than its usual color for this kind of cake. Instead of a flower decoration atop it, I chose a simpler one…Then I took a picture of my creation.

Next I Photoshopped the picture, in order to present to you: the Boob Cakes:

The cake didn’t have the perfect look I got the first time I made this cake–but that time it was for one of my favorite lovers, as a birthday surprise. This time I wasn’t as inspired. Maybe next time I’m bored I’ll try creating a penis cake. But that would actually be too easy, with one of the recipes I have. If I did it right I could even suck some creamy white goodness out of it! :O

The Monk talks with Dancer:

“No, threatening to have a lawn gnome as part of a scene does not count as a fetish.”

“Really? Even if it is one of those ones with the cool wheel barrows?”

“No, never ever.”

“But what if I just lined a bunch up like they were watching?”

I am stunned to announce that I’ve just done something unprecedented (for me). I just deleted a blog from my blogroll because of the content. Not because it was stale, not because it was lame, not because it was badly written – I prune blogs for that sort of reason all the time. Nope, I deleted it because it flat-out pissed me off…and because I could.

The offending post? A jocular statement of warm anticipatory approval for the “forced anal intrusion” (aka prison rape) awaiting sex offenders once they get to jail.

Sorry, folks, but civilized people don’t use rape as a punishment, much less gloat about it. And I just discovered that I can’t stomach linking to that particular flavor of barbarian.