I’m not a nice man. Last night I had to tell her I got shipping confirmation on that toy order.

I may need to put up a .wav file of her saying “Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?” It’s worth hearing. I never knew I could be so heartless – or that I would enjoy it so much!

In other news, I have considered sending VTECH a stern letter of complaint about the way their cordless phone’s battery craps out after a mere seven hours or so. I have restrained myself to date only because I’m not sure I could withstand their hoots of helpless laughter.

Update: The .wav file is now linked.

She still wants to know what toys I ordered. She says her curiousity is killing her.

Being resolute has never been so much fun. She’s begun trying to bargain. I love keeping her wondering, so I’m holding out for a price I don’t think she’s going to pay. Namely, her permission to publish a certain picture she was kind enough to send me.

She came up with that idea, but backed off when I asked if she was sure. Give her time. She’s really curious.

I may go to hell for this, but I’ll go happy.

Belle De Jour continues to delight. This made me hoot with laughter:

He: “What can I do to make you come?”

Me: “It’s very complicated. We’d be here all night.”

“That sounds ideal.”

“Yes, but do you have a drill press and six goats? Also, the planets are not in the correct alignment.”

“Fair dues. I’ll know for next time.”

Daze linked to a now-removed Seattle Times story about the new naked sushi restaurant in Seattle that has all the anti-pleasure crew working their knickers into a frothy twist.

But I’ve got a scoop nobody else has got. The Seattle Times has a picture of the nude sushi serving lady all laid out in her plastic wrap and covered with delicious tidbits. But it’s not so pretty back in the food prep area, boys and girls. I know, I know, sushi gets made where the customers can watch. But the big seafood chunks have to get made into little seafood chunks somewhere, right? They don’t hack open sixty pounds of cephalopod in front of the customers. And here’s what it looks like in that back room:

I placed a small order this afternoon from an online sex toy store. Just a couple of fun items, nothing expensive or fancy.

Then tonight on the phone I told The Nymph that I had ordered some toys.

“What kind of toys did you order?”

“I’m not telling. It’s a surprise. You’ll find out.”

I swear, she spent the next half hour trying to sweet-talk me into telling her. She’s very good. Her sweet talk is impressively sweet. But I was resolute. I was having too much fun to give in.

They could shred my order and never send a thing. I’ve already gotten my money’s worth.

AnarchoBabes and Liberty Chicks is a group blog by several freedom-loving ladies with a great attitude and a sense of fun. They surely aren’t bound by tradition, oh no:

Last night I had a wonderful time … an all-too-rare lovemaking session with just one co-partner that was awesome. My knees still go weak thinking about it. Our other partner — the twins’ father — was out of town, so we had the place to ourselves after the kids were in bed. Happiness galore!!!!!!! If you’ve never had a three-minute orgasm that leaves you speechless and breathless, well … I feel damn sorry for you.

The three of us don’t always share a bed, but we’re so compatible together, it’s what we choose more often than not (the nots being nights when one of us is having our period, or somebody’s not feeling well, stuff like that).

Yes, our happy family is a triad …. and yes, I swing both ways. If you got a problem with that, well tuff. I never asked for your opinion anyway. It works for all of us, and what else matters?

There’s plenty more amusing goodness, from where a woman should carry a .50 cal. Desert Eagle to the problem with hips.

Via the spiffy new Fleshbot, this excellent page of TV news ladies who appear to be wearing their vibrating panties. Or possibly they just are very good at training their “personal assistants”. What news broadcast couldn’t be improved by an intern under the newsdesk?