Diablo from Pussy Ranch is getting married! “Diablo and Jonny, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then two little babies in a baby carriage….”

Here’s how it went down, since I know you ladies need the details about this sort of thing. And besides, it’s pretty cool:

On Friday, Jonny presented me with a saucy new ensemble from Wet Seal (the man has some seriously excellent taste) and told me I should wear it for a “surprise date” on Saturday. But of course! I adore surprises.

So I donned the beaded top, miniskirt and pink fishnet tights on Saturday evening (Jonny wore an extremely hot new outfit as well) and we headed out. It turned out he had made reservations at our favorite sushi restaurant. We ordered cocktails and nigiri and commenced a fabulous meal. After finishing, we decided we were still hungry and ordered a second round of sushi.

So you can imagine my shock when the waitress arrived with a tray not bearing spicy tuna rolls, but a white ring box. “Here’s your special roll,” she said, barely able to contain her glee. Jonny dropped to his knee as I began bawling my fool eyes out in front of many gawking diners, and popped the question.

I had a surprise planned too: See, we’d been talking about getting engaged a lot recently, and I had a hunch a proposal was forthcoming. So several days earlier (as it turns out, the exact day Jonny had purchased the ring), I had secretly had the word “yes” tattooed on the inside of my wrist. I’d hidden it with an AC/DC wristband and hoped my surprise wouldn’t be blown.

And it wasn’t; I whipped off the wristband and flashed Jonny my wrist. “Yes!” Onlookers applauded, and my feet haven’t touched the ground since.

I wanted my answer to last forever, and now it will. (In fact, it’s healing nicely.)

Congratulations to the both of ya!

Philip from Hot Action has some very cogent thoughts on male sex blogging. I specifically liked his thoughts about the ethics of blogging about sex:

As I see it, my main responsibility is to write as accurately and honestly as possible. I always picture the person involved reading the post and try to gauge if there is anything she could possibly take issue with.

But of course, it’s about way more than accuracy. […]

As a male sex blogger, I feel I have a duty to women to do them right. To give them my best writing, to extract the most beautiful or the most telling image from a situation, to pay tribute to them with elevated [or debased] language.

There are far more ways to make an event “unique and special” than by keeping it private.

I’m ashamed that I didn’t even know about Philip’s blog when I started discussing this subject.

I’ll catch some minor hell for this, but it’s true: sometimes (only sometimes, this is a literal statement and not that too-common rhetorical device of cloaking general distaste in vague disclaimer) when I read blogs by submissives, I get uneasy. Although I’m delighted whenever someone finds a lifestyle they find salutory and life-affirming, no matter how queasy their arrangements make me, there are some types of dominant/submissive relationships that seemed aimed at erasing the individuality, or even the humanity, if the submissive partner.

Accordingly, I am indebted to the strong-minded submissive Invidia, writing at The Collar Purple, for her recent pair of essays “What Submission Is” (scroll down to 12.04.03 entry) and “What Submission Is Not” (12.07.03 entry). The “Is” essay is a simple but powerful catalog of benefits and advantages a submissive (well, Invidia, anyway) enjoys as a consequence of her submission, while the “Is Not” essay covers just about everything that tends to make the hairs rise on the nape of my neck when I’m reading blogs by submissives. As Invidia herself points out, she’s not trying to define submission for anyone but herself, nor would I be impressed if she had done.

So what’s the ultimate reason for bring this up, if it’s all good and what’s wrong for Invidia may be perfectly fine for someone else, and so forth? Well, it’s because in reading so many sex blogs, I see a lot of people (men and women alike) who are talking about exploring dominance and submission but who are put off by some of the common practices Invidia includes in her “Is Not” essay. Perhaps, then, there is value in sharing her “you don’t have to treat your submissive like a Houseplant of Gor to play this game; the perfect submissive does not need to be three feet tall with a flat head to put drinks on” message with a broader audience.

Rask the Porn Publisher isn’t living quite the wild life we expect from people in the sex industry. Instead, he works. Plus he has a very dry sense of humor (I hope it’s humor). On Pearl Harbor day:

My ex-wife called today to see if I was coming to my daughters’ birthday party. I didn’t go. I worked. I selected pictures for nine more websites and wrote the copy for them. I did take time off long enough to fuck the slave. As usual, she walked around afterwards, saying “I got fucked today.” Wondering whether such a response is really warranted, I did a search on this blog to see when she got laid last. I guess she may have just cause to think of it as something special.

As noted previously, The Nymph is a confessed present peeper. So I warned her that her Christmas present would come in tamper-resistant packaging. She got it yesterday:

She says she’s still laughing. I figure she’s madly trying all 9999 combinations, in order. We’ll see if she remembers to humor me by asking for the combination on Christmas day.

It seems she got a bodypaint job and went back down onto the farm for some bucolic grazing action:

Yes, crazy about sex. But you knew that. Here’s an anecdote from one of the anarchobabes that just had me scratching my head:

Anyway, the sister in-law thing … its Partner M’s sister and her husband. She accidentally found his stash of “penis pills” — that’s what she called them — and threw a bitch-fit about it. According to her, things had been getting pretty sad in the bedroom dept but then all of a sudden he becomes a new man. Regular sex, no problems getting it up and keeping it up — great stuff, right? She gets suspicious that there’s another woman and starts noseying around and finds his bottle of Viagra. As soon as hubby gets home she goes off on him, yelling about how nasty and sick he is and all kinds of mean shit. She said she thought he’d apologize.

But he didn’t. (Heh.) He said he was tired of wondering whether he’d be able to have sex with her and when he started reading about Viagra he thought it would work for him. So he went to the doctor and after some tests the doc gave him the Rx. He didn’t tell her because he was embarrassed about needing the pills — he just thought she’d be happy that they could do it again and told her to fuck herself if she didn’t like what he was doing to be able to fuck her himself. (What a great line!)

So, they’re barely talking now….

Maybe it’s because I’m a guy, but I just don’t get her negative reaction. It almost sounds like she is aggrieved that they are (er, were) having sex again.