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The Sex Blog Of Record
Saturday, November 9th, 2024 -- by Bacchus
Part of the sound that goes with this says “Masturbation is a form of witchcraft” and I am not dumb enough to argue with that. This fresh colorful tattoo of a bawdy witch riding the man in the moon like a broom is from tattoo artist Sarah Jane:
Nothing beats a celestial lover!
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Tuesday, August 20th, 2024 -- by Bacchus
Today’s risqué joke:
Today I learned a quick trick for telling if some man jerks off a lot. All you have to do is look closely at his hands.
Is he wearing a wedding ring? There you go! He jerks off a lot.
And now a quick disclaimer: Yes, this joke is based on the stereotype of wives wanting less sex than their husbands. It’s not actually a stereotype I am enthusiastic about perpetuating; there are plenty of marriages where the arrow of libido imbalance points the other way, or where it doesn’t exist at all. But it’s common enough for every man who hears it to get the joke.
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Saturday, May 4th, 2024 -- by Bacchus
Today’s moment of joy:
The most joyous thing I’ve seen today is the sexually frustrated romance novel protagonist who keeps carefully organized and well-hidden folders full of photos of fancily-decorated room interiors on her laptop as her preferred masturbation fodder. Her self-justification: “I am an interior designer, after all!”
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Friday, September 1st, 2023 -- by Bacchus
I have always assumed that horny young technically-adept men were the primary market for VR porn. Porn enjoyment generally is said to skew heavily male, and adding nifty cutting-edge electronic gadgets to the porn-viewing enterprise perhaps reinforces that. All of this is changing rapidly and a lot of the actual research on porn habits is both out-of-date and dubious in its methodology. I might be wrong. Still, it’s been the baseline of my thinking about VR porn for the last few years.
I’ve told you before, though, that I tend to view culture through the lens of porn and erotic art. Erotic art, in particular, is where we start to see meta trends, as expressed through art that’s about porn (and people enjoying porn) rather than just being porn. So what does it mean when we start to see erotic imagery of women pleasuring themselves while enjoying VR porn?
It might mean nothing. Even with detailed lists of the best VR porn sites at our fingertips, it would be a huge job trying to figure out who is watching, who is subscribing, who is paying, and who is getting off. Also, art that’s at all “meta” is perforce ambiguous. Who is to say that all these masturbating women are watching porn in their VR headsets? They might be watching something else entirely, like Smurf cartoons or classic music videos from the 1980s.
But no. We are the viewers and critics here, and thus one of our chief pleasures is the power of interpretation. We are empowered to say “I understand this to be an image about a woman viewing porn” and while anyone might disagree, no one has the power to declare us wrong.
So, what does the emergence of all this women-enjoying-VR-porn imagery tell us? Maybe art imitates life; maybe this is an emerging phenomenon, a thing that’s happening now. And since it’s sexy to imagine, it becomes the subject of erotic art. But we don’t assume that tentacle sex artwork heralds the arrival of tentacle beasts in our space-time continuum, so we must remain mindful that we might just be seeing the erotic projections of male artists, sharing their fantasies, in this as in all else. The male gaze, looking into the mirror of VR porn desire, and seeing… itself.
Did I say I tend to view culture through a porn lens? I did say that, but it doesn’t mean I necessarily understand what I see.
Image credits, top to bottom: The cartoon blonde giving a simulated blowjob is by 3Palec. The woman wearing a “slut” tee and giving herself wand-vibrator orgasms is by Jiffic. The blonde with busy fingers inside her panties is by an unknown source. The woman with her hand tucked discretely between her spread legs while her heels rest on her computer desk is by Area5de. The lady in her pleasure chair sweating through multiple VR-assisted orgasms is by Rikena. And cute sysadmin who is creating her own personal waterfall in the server room is by Piyorin.
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Tuesday, February 28th, 2023 -- by Bacchus
In a recent column, advice columnist and kink/sex educator Rain DeGrey addresses a reader’s worried impression that people are coming to prefer porn and self-pleasure over “actual physical sex”. Rain thinks it may be true, but if so it’s far from worrisome:
If some people decide that hopping online and summoning up porn in any style, any shape, any hair color, any variety without even popping a breath mint first is easier than meeting up with an actual human, well, who can blame them? We live like Greek Gods and are spoiled for choice.
Yes, indeed.
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Tuesday, May 17th, 2022 -- by Bacchus
I’ve heard rumors about this sort of gentlemen’s club. The membership is always exclusive, but the entertainments are so lurid, stories do leak out. I’m not sure if the writhing woman fingering herself is a simple exhibition of pleasure, or if it’s prelude to a bukkake sort of thing:
This art is by Pyat.
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Thursday, April 28th, 2022 -- by Bacchus
Men jerking off aren’t my favorite erotic art subjects. But when the artist lets us see the relevant masturbatory fantasies, that can be a lot of fun:
This artwork is variously attributed to André Collot or “Santippa”/Georges Hoffman. It’s from the very rare mid-20th-century French book Épices: Réflexions sur quelques à côtés de l’amour destinées à des personnes expérimentés, described by one bookseller here.
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Monday, March 21st, 2022 -- by Bacchus
I don’t care if the forty on your lap is freezing your balls, your passenger has a cure for that:
This road trip seductive masturbation .gif came from a dead tumbler, but I have evidence that the uncredited source material was originally found in a Reality Kings porn shoot:
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Wednesday, October 6th, 2021 -- by Bacchus
There’s more than one use for a wireless gaming controller, especially if it’s got a little bit of that haptic feedback “rumble” built into it:
Our anal-fingering squirting-orgasm gamer girl appears to be as good at getting off as she is at delivering headshots. Here’s to skillz!
Artwork is by Vincentccart in a comic called The Videogame.
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Wednesday, September 22nd, 2021 -- by Bacchus
Just a handsome young man sitting on the edge of his bed, completely lost in his anal sex fantasy and the intense sensations of his jelly cock-stroker toy:
The uncropped art (by Foudreika) at Kinky Delight additionally shows a closeup of the cock/toy sensation-interface.
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Wednesday, September 1st, 2021 -- by Bacchus
A very very long time ago, some quasi-educational sex book I was reading (perhaps a Nancy Friday title) informed me that a common masturbation method for women was to fold up a pillow underneath themselves on a bed and ride it with some vigor. From time to time, during that vanished decade of popularity that sex blogs enjoyed, I would see some woman mention having done this, especially during that time of youth when their libido greatly exceeded their access to either sex toys or unsupervised young men. But it’s quite rare, I think, to see the practice actually captured in visual media:
This grainy .gif is from some long-lost Tumblr.
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Tuesday, September 10th, 2019 -- by Bacchus
This is a dirty old milking machine joke that I’ve seen in various forms over the years. I rather like this particular formulation of it:
A very suggestible Wisconsin Dairy farmer watched his new electric milking machine with fascination for some weeks. At length he decided to satisfy his curiosity as to how the machine would serve as a safe and sanitary love object. Once the experiment was begun he found that he was unable to extricate himself. When his wife phoned the factory, she was told “Just keep feeding him and fanning him, lady; that machine is set for four quarts!”
The joke (or probably just this telling of it) is attributed to “Henri Beauchamp” in one of my old humor files, but that doesn’t tell me much.
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Tuesday, February 12th, 2019 -- by Bacchus
Via Bondage Blog, this detail from a cartoon raises the interesting question — how many men are flexible enough to masturbate with their own feet? I certainly never have been, but I’ve seen photographic evidence that some men are.
(For the time being, I’m content to play the cartoonist’s game, and disregard the added complication and difficulty of doing it with shoulders dislocated, or nearly so, from such a punishing suspension.)
Tuesday, January 5th, 2016 -- by Bacchus
It’s my considered opinion that the Real Time Bondage live internet shows are some of the quirkiest and funniest “serious BDSM” you’re ever going to find on the internet:
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Saturday, May 30th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
Horror writer Chuck Pahlaniuk details four different ways a young man might masturbate in the story Guts. There are…problematic…aspects. I did mention that this was horror writing, didn’t I?
That’s all the warning you get.
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Sunday, November 9th, 2014 -- by Bacchus
I’ve long been aware that sex toy companies sell an impressive and intimidating array of urethral sounds. Indeed, they sell whole kits of them in differing sizes. Inserting these things in your penis is probably safer than stuffing Gummi worms up there, but I’ve never been tempted to try either one. (Call it a gap in my sexual imagination if you must.)
I am therefore delighted to discover that Nerve ran a detailed piece of urethral sounding last spring. The why, the how, the what-it-was-like, perhaps too-thickly buttered with intellectualism, but nothing in life is perfect: Sensible Sounding: Why I Inserted a Metal Rod into My Penis on Purpose.
Some of the why:
I began to wonder if something in my penis and its stupid tripwire emissions system was preventing me from climbing the ecstatic ladder into the stars. Whenever a partner rolled her head in pleasure or grabbed a fistful of bed sheet while arcing her pelvis upward, I wondered why my own arousal never made me do any of that. Sex inspired in me a suspicion that there were even better forms of it that I would have to travel outside of myself to discover. Which is how I came to be sitting in my bedroom one night, sliding a long metal tube into my penis.
A bit about sounds:
Urethral sounding rods are a relatively obscure and intimidating member of the sex toy family, usually a long, slender metal cylinder meant to slide into the urethra to create a pleasing dilation effect. Sizes range from 4 to 17 millimeters in circumference, though there is some variation. The rods come in a variety of shapes – some have a gentle S-shaped curve, while others have large cylindrical dumbbells on their tips. Some come with flat, rectangular ends, some have repeating spherical ridges, and the most intimidating have severe fishhook curves.
A bit of the physiology:
The tissue in the urethra is embryologically the same as the labia minora, and it’s filled with sensitive nerve endings all the way down. Just moving a smooth, well-lubricated object along these tissues can be pleasurable, but there are deeper wonders to be touched in sounding. The urethra is divided into four parts that connect the bladder to head of one’s penis, the last of which runs directly through the prostate, a sensitive organ that’s central to the ejaculatory spasms men experience during orgasm. Sudden dilation of the prostatic urethra can trigger ejaculation and the enlivening sensations that accompany it.
And finally, a very small bit from the author’s account of actually sounding himself:
When I finally closed my bedroom door and held the rod in my hand, an over-abundance of clear lube clotting around its narrowest half, I thought for a moment about the fact that I was now going to be fucked by a purely machined object. Most of the sex toys I’d known were fetishized reflections of another human body in some abstract way. Dildos and Fleshlights were direct analogs of genitalia, while cock rings and vibrators evoked in some distant way the intensified gestures another person might do to you. But I was on my own with the rod – there was no fantasy of an idyllic shadow lover when I felt the metal spread open my penis. There was no pantomime of acting out love for any other body. There was no projecting; I was alone with a piece of metal.
Though not necessary, I decided it would be easiest to start if I had an erection. The rod went in softly and smoothly…
As usual, you know the drill: there’s much much more.
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Friday, September 12th, 2014 -- by Bacchus
The woman sitting nude on his lap may be entirely imaginary, but that doesn’t stop her from being sexy as hell:
Artist is not known, but it amuses me to imagine this artwork might have been commissioned for a hilariously-misconceived “evils of masturbation” poster series. “You’ll stain your clothing!”
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Friday, July 18th, 2014 -- by Bacchus
Vintage porn is vintage, but that doesn’t make it any less kinky than the modern sort:
I think the kinkiest thing is that they are wearing matching striped socks.
From Vintage Lust.
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Thursday, January 2nd, 2014 -- by Bacchus
This moment of cucumber passion is a detail from Three Figures by German artist George Grosz, painted in 1928 or so.
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Wednesday, October 9th, 2013 -- by Bacchus
Regulating the sexuality of soldiers has always been a tricky task, with issues of health, morale, and discipline (not to mention institutional or social morality) intersecting in complex and sometimes painful ways. Honestly, I’m not unsympathetic to the view that our marines ought to be able to take a shit without getting slimed with somebody else’s stale jizz. But this notice (which might be fake, given that Business Insider sources it as “an image making the rounds on FaceBook” which is not exactly confirmation of authenticity) appears to rely on false medical scare tactics. Supposedly “it’s a notice posted in a port-a-potty on Camp Leatherneck in Helmand province, Afghanistan”:
The BI reporter shared my skepticism about the claim that “there have been several reports…of illness caused by bodily fluids discharge in these facilities” so the reporter:
…reached out to the Navy Corpsman who was my medic when I was deployed to Helmand province in 2011. He called malarkey.
“Unless they’re getting semen in an open wound, there’s no way,” said Petty Officer 2nd Class Eric Dodson, a Corpsman with 2nd Marine Division in Camp Lejeune, N.C. “There’s no transdermal infection passable through semen, at least to my knowledge.”
Malarkey, indeed!
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Saturday, September 28th, 2013 -- by Bacchus
So this delicious and hilarious screen capture appeared in my Twitter feed the other day. It was early, I was groggy, and for just a tiny but perfect moment I actually believed that there really could be a group called “Christians Against Masturbation” in this our beloved America, and that they might possibly be so deeply encased in their righteous and godly bubble that they could employ (in all innocence) a sweet-faced woman named “Ellen Fapper” as their spokeswoman:
(The comedy depends on knowing that “fap” is an onomatopoeic internet verb meaning “to masturbate” while apprehending that people may exist who do not know this. Thus I have mentioned it at this time just in case you, gentle reader, were one of those people ere now.)
Alas, on the internet these perfect funny things are almost always hoaxes. Typically they are born as jokes, not intended — by their original creators — to deceive. What happens next is that somebody else will file off the serial numbers, grind away some of the obvious comedy signals, and release them into the wild with deceptive intent. Sometimes, there, they go feral.
Anyway, I can’t blog it until I check it. And my weary certainty was that checking it would be a letdown. But was it, this time? Maybe not so much. It’s not real, but it’s still funny.
First, I’ll tell ya right up front, “Fapper” is a photoshop. The screen cap is real for certain values of real, but it originally said “Farber”. I don’t know who did the ‘shop.
The screen capture itself? That comes from a video you can see at Funny Or Die. It takes the form of a lengthy point-counterpoint between Ms. Farber and the comedian Louis CK, supposedly the only person they could find willing to come on the show to defend masturbation. This he does with passion:
“Masturbating keeps me sane! I’m a good citizen, I’m a good father, I recycle, and I masturbate. And I’m proud of it! And…and God’s happy! And later I’m gonna masturbate and I’m gonna think about you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
And what is this video, actually? It takes place in front of the Fox News logos, but the production values are nothing like a typical Fox News show. Near the end, there’s a spot where you can see the following words in a sort of show logo: Red Eye with Greg Gutfield. There really is a Fox News Show by that name, according to Wikipedia. Could it be this was a real interview? Wikipedia calls Red Eye a “late-night/early-morning satirical talk show” so, maybe?
No, nope, nopers, nyet. According to the Wikipedia, the Red Eye show was being spoofed on an episode of Louie (Louis CK’s eponymous comedy drama). That episode, titled Come On, God, aired on August 11, 2011. The Ellen Farber character is being played by actress Liz Holtan.
So, it’s just a funny sight gag photoshopped by some unknown party from a screen capture of a segment on a comedy show that was in turn parodying a Fox News show that is itself supposedly satirical. Perhaps I’m the only person in the world who is interested in reconstructing these growth rings of accreted metadata so that I can look at them closely. But everybody needs a hobby, right?
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Thursday, June 6th, 2013 -- by Bacchus
You’ve heard of a “buzz kill”? Well, I think this may be the “happy BDSM” opposite of that:
It’s from Men On Edge, so you needn’t worry; Kurt Von Ryder’s undies come off real fast. In the member’s area there’s a good closeup of the same two-powerful-vibrators-on-a-boner game, only with his underwear gone and replaced by nothing more than a thin coat of lube — like this shot from the shoot but in much closer focus.
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Tuesday, December 18th, 2012 -- by Bacchus
No, really, it’s the title of this man’s actual sermon:
Dan Savage found the story in Chicago Magazine:
In July 2010, an hour into the “Polished Shaft” sermon–in a church packed with thousands of teenagers there for a youth conference–Schaap went further. He lifted a stick in his left hand and a silver cloth in his right. He moved the bottom of the stick near his groin and angled it away from himself. Head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth gaping, he began rubbing the shaft rapidly with the cloth, up and down, up and down…. What he was doing was unmistakable: simulating masturbation, in front of thousands of children, in the middle of a church service. A row of white-coated high-ranking churchmen seated behind Schaap watched in silence.
If you’re thinking that demonstrates a dangerous level of hypersexualization in a Baptist pastor, you’d be right:
Last September, Schaap, 54, a married father of two, pleaded guilty to taking a 16-year-old girl he was counseling at First Baptist across state lines to have sex. Denied bond, he awaits sentencing in the Porter County Jail; the minimum term is ten years.
Folks, we see the pattern over and over. Folks who preach hard and heavily against sex (of whatever kind, it doesn’t matter) are almost always talking to themselves first and foremost. So whenever you hear a sermon (religious or secular, again it doesn’t matter) against sex of any kind, you might, as Dan Savage says, “wanna keep your kids the hell away.”
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Tuesday, August 21st, 2012 -- by Bacchus
From a column even smarter and saner than this paragraph:
My point is there’s nothing “dirty”, “perverse” or “deviant” about masturbation or clit-licking. A brain as powerful and sophisticated as mine can’t just be cold-booted in the morning, and masturbation is one of the best ways to fill the long minutes that elapse between the first signs of consciousness and the ability to crawl and signal basic emotions to others. Indeed, wanking is a powerful motivator — there’s only so long you can lie clutching a handful of your own sperm before disgust overwhelms laziness and forces you to the bathroom. Similarly, clit-licking is a relaxing and efficient pursuit that requires little more than lying on your back, letting a lady sit on your face, and trying to avoid suffocation.
That’s Martin Robbins, writing in New Statesman.
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Wednesday, May 2nd, 2012 -- by Bacchus
At first look this couldn’t be a clearer visual metaphor for masturbation:
But if you click through and look at the whole image (complete with the rest of the Pickle family watching in consternation) the whole “spanking his pickle” metaphor becomes more confused, maybe even a bit disturbing.
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Thursday, September 8th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
In an age that contains church sign generators, one must always be suspicious of stuff like this that seems too good to be true. And yet:
Tuesday, August 30th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
This is a detail from an illustration by Kinuko Craft, found via Kinky Delight:
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Monday, November 15th, 2010 -- by Bacchus
It’s not just for sandwiches.
Thursday, May 27th, 2010 -- by Bacchus
Vegetables. The original sex toy. And a far better use for an eggplant than actually eating the rubbery dirt-flavored horrors:
From Usenet.
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Wednesday, December 9th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
Overheard on Twitter: “A Fleshlight is super soft and velvety. It’s like jerking off into one of the pockets of your favorite uncle’s cashmere blazer.”
Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009 -- by Bacchus
There’s something deeply, bizarrely, and recursively ironic about this. While I was playing with the 3D SexVilla BrainImageInstantiator (mock trademark hereby claimed), an exceedingly primitive AI (aka weblog spamming script) landed in Faustus’s post about the future of such tools, and successfully (albeit briefly) hacked a nascent argument about the potential capabilities of AIs by taking three sentence fragments from the previous comment and rearranging them into something that looked superficially plausible to my own primitive high-speed “is this comment human?” Turing-testing algorithms.
Ladies and gentlemen and assorted avatars, please fasten your seatbelts, this is gonna be a long and bumpy ride. And there’s no telling where we might end up.
Meanwhile, back at the dance club, it’s after hours and one of the t-girls (that’s the term the 3D SexVilla software uses, not mine) has gotten bored and perhaps a little lonely:
Monday, April 21st, 2008 -- by Bacchus
What, has it really been three whole weeks since I posted something from my Usenet files? Why, I believe it has:
For the curious, here’s what the image looked like when I found it:
More artifact than image, really, in its found-in-the-wild form.
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Wednesday, March 28th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Whenever you hear a story like this, it’s hard to know if you’re reading about somebody suffering a serious crisis of mental health, or whether (as we’d always prefer to believe) it’s someone living out a sexually adventurous fantasy. Add drugs to the mix and you’ve got an even fuzzier middle ground to worry about.
When I was in college, we had a young scholar who took too many magic mushrooms and was eventually picked up by campus security, naked, standing on the college president’s lawn, masturbating and shouting. I never heard what he was shouting about.
It’s possible that this story slides a little bit more toward the sexually adventurous side, but there’s no way to know for sure:
Masturbating trespasser booted from frat
By: Jessica Vosgerchian, Daily Staff Reporter (3/26/07)
Police have been unable to locate a woman who entered the Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity house without permission on Thursday and began to masturbate on a couch.
While fraternity members were eating in the dining room, a woman entered the house’s living room, took off her clothes and started masturbating, said LSA junior Dan Nye, the president of the Washtenaw Avenue fraternity.
…
Fraternity members asked the woman to leave the house, but she refused and continued masturbating for about half an hour, Nye said.
When members asked the woman if she was all right, she casually replied that she was fine, he said. The woman was talking on her cell phone at one point, said LSA sophomore Adam Bayard, a member of the fraternity.
She walked out of the front door wearing only a thigh-length black coat after a fraternity member called the police, Nye said. When police arrived minutes later, the woman had already left.
According to a police report, the woman was between 20 and 30 years old, had short brown hair and appeared to be under the influence of drugs.
“Obviously, she was very disturbed,” Nye said. “It was not how a normal person would respond to people.”
The woman told fraternity members that her name was Melissa and she was a student at Eastern Michigan University, according to the police report.
Fraternity members said they will throw out two couches in the living room because of the incident, Nye said.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s that last line that makes the story. I’ve been in frat houses, and so the idea that frat boys (er, I mean young Greek gentlemen) would be grossed out by a single incidence of female masturbation on their furniture makes me howl with laughter.
I also like that “She’s been masturbating for half an hour, is it time to call the police yet?” sense of urgency.
Friday, January 26th, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Who knew a girl could have so much fun with just a bit of string?
Friday, November 10th, 2006 -- by Bacchus
Here’s a vintage erotic image (perhaps a French postcard or salon card) that’s rare because of its subject matter (female masturbation, rarely treated in the early porn) and because of the delicate hand-tinting it received:
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Tuesday, May 30th, 2006 -- by Bacchus
…and writing, erotica that is, moreso. So sez Chelsea Girl:
I’m accustomed to reading books and finding my girlparts moist. The act of reading, after all, has a kind of inherent eroticism. A generally solitary activity, reading is just you and your quiet hands and the fantasy that the words play out in your mind. It’s just one swift hand below your waistline away from masturbation.
The eighteenth-century birth of the European novel was heralded with all kinds of fear that reading would unreasonably inflame the senses of the young with what one critic has termed ‘one-handed reading.’ And justifiably so — by the middle of the century, John Cleland wrote the first piece of English pornography to help him get out of debtor’s prison.
To get out, and one might suspect, to get off, because let me tell you that writing porn makes a person seriously body-needy.
I’ve been writing a couple of commissioned porny pieces: the first for an American soldier stationed in Iraq narrates a soldier’s wife’s experience of her husband’s return and her waking up from a long sexual nap. The second, for an international poker player, gives the story of a secretary being anally punished for habitual lateness.
Who knew that in a pinch binder clips work as impromptu nipple clamps? Me, that’s who.
I’ve found it incredibly hott-making to get inside these character’s heads and bodies. To inhabit the life of a woman who has by necessity put her sexuality on hold and then to find it smacking it upside her fanny was incendiary. It was hard, literally, a hard little wet knot in my g-string as I sat on my desk chair typing, typing, typing this story of this woman’s learning about what she wanted and how she wanted it.
When I finished, the story a crescendo of simultaneous orgasm and multiple penetration, I felt as if I knew her.
And now, immersed in this office fantasy, the rolling chairs, the drawers of pointy staples and rolls of tape, the shredded gossamer of good-girl pantyhose and the imminent threat of discovery, I find my delicate sensibilities inflamed. (Today, while writing, I had to take a break, discover the painful joy of my nipple clamps and come hard and long with my bullet vibe, groaning louder than I’d expected.)
Ah, the joys of literacy!
Tuesday, October 11th, 2005 -- by Bacchus
Via Mistress Matisse, this story of undercover vice cops who got handjobs and “anal touching” at a massage parlor before arresting the ladies who provided their services:
On April 27, an officer entered the shop and paid $60 for and received a full “body shampoo,” which included genital and anal touching. The officer returned two other times for massages that also included masturbation — one session with two prostitutes — and again paid for the service.
A second officer also received a massage and was masturbated, according to charging papers.
…
[Lynnwood police Cmdr. Paul] Watkins says the tactics used during the investigation did not violate department policies.
“We have a very ethical police department,” he said. “This does not violate the ethical standards of our department.”
Police ethics, which you already knew if you ever watched a cop park his cruiser or speed through a crosswalk: “The laws are for you to follow, and do not apply to us. We are above the law.” Got it.
Wednesday, September 14th, 2005 -- by Bacchus
Via anonymous email, we have this folk art rendering of a woman having a spot of fun with an aerosol cologne container:
Sunday, May 1st, 2005 -- by Bacchus
I’ve repeatedly railed against porn sites that are all “slut” this, “cunt” that, and “whores and bitches” over there. In my experience, guys who talk like that aren’t getting any, and no wonder! I doubt it’s any different for guys who enjoy their porn labelled in that ugly fashion.
So imagine my delight in discovering a pornographer who “gets it”. Donovan Phillips writes (in his blog Donny’s Ramblings: Diary of a Pornographer):
I fucking hate going to websites that use words like whores and sluts. There’s nothing at all wrong with a woman showing her sexuality. The way our society encourages women to repress the evidence of their sex drive really bothers me. Men are encouraged to boast about their strong libido, but a woman with a strong sex drive who agressively goes for what she wants is labeled with one of those words I so hate.
And you know what else? There’s nothing at all wrong with a man being aroused by a woman showing her sexuality, even to the point of masturbation. Why do I mention this? Because I’m sure that you, like me, may have a background influenced by religious individuals that tell you anything pleasant in life is a sin of some sort. Masturbation’s a sin, ya know. Fuck them.
Preach it, Brother Donny!
Thursday, December 16th, 2004 -- by Bacchus
Here’s something you don’t see every day: an animated .gif of a fellow making rather vigorous use of one of those plastic male masturbation aids (aka “pocket pussy”). It’s rather eye-catching.
Wednesday, April 28th, 2004 -- by Bacchus
“Sophisticated persons masturbate without compunction. They do it for reasons of health, privacy, thrift and because of the remarkable perfection of invisible partners.”
— P. J. O’Rourke
Thursday, July 17th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
Bigwig over at Silflay Hraka heard the news that masturbation protects men against prostate cancer, and immediately wondered:
If frequent masturbation is supposed to prevent prostate cancer, why is the term “prostate cancer” present in the language in the first place? Shouldn’t it at least be an oxymoron?
A good question, one which makes me wonder: What was the incidence of prostate cancer prior to the Victorian age invention of the idea that masturbation was evil and dangerous and dirty and shameful?
It would be an eye opener if it turned out that prostate cancer is largely the byproduct of a religious and social mania of relatively modern invention.
Monday, May 12th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
In case you were curious, an Interview with an Autofellator. A highlight:
Imagine having someone suck on your cock who knows exactly what you’re feeling at every moment; who can adjust every variable instantly to provide you with maximum pleasure. Imagine (this one is going to be more of a stretch for non-cocksuckers) sucking on the cock of a man who knows exactly how hard and fast to push, and when to pull out (for those of us who still have a gag-reflex). Having that much control means that I can have a variety of kinds of orgasms and can easily separate orgasm from ejaculation, and shoot a number of loads before having the final orgasm. It isn’t a substitute for sex with other people; it’s a completely different thing, like masturbation squared. It’s like any good sex: Sometimes it’s cerebral, sometimes the body takes over.
Saturday, April 19th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
This post addressed Eugene Volokh’s provocative question about the seeming double standard by which women’s vibrators are considered fairly cool by reasonably enlightened, sex-positive members of society, while devices designed for male masturbation are not.
Here’s an article about one such device, the $895 Motorized Orgasmic Release Machine, which suggests that the tech just isn’t up to snuff:
Well, according to the instructions, you don’t have to be hard to enter the sleeve. That’s bullshit. I found that keeping my soft cock snugly inside the sleeve was nearly impossible, especially with all of that lube. But the next instruction concerned me: “Squeeze the suction ball and slip it back on the coupling at the end of the plastic tubing.” I glanced at my hands. They were covered with Wet.
Maybe I’m totally uncoordinated, but the ball kept slipping out of my hand, and I had to force it onto the tubing, and everything kept sliding, and meanwhile, my hard-on had turned into something like a greased eel and had fallen out of the sleeve and Fuck, what ever happened to good ol’ fashioned grabbing and jerking?
So I worked to regain my hard-on, stuffed it back into the sleeve and grabbed a towel. I wiped the lube off the ball, squeezed it and finally forced it onto the tube. When I released the ball, I was supposed to feel suction around my cock, something like Monica you-know-who giving me a blow job, and the suction was supposed to keep me snug in the sleeve, but I felt only a little bit of suction, certainly nothing like a real, live mouth. Not Monica’s mouth.
Thanks to Erotic Blog for the link.
Monday, April 14th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
Eugene Volokh has posted a provocative inquiry about vibrators. In a nutshell, he wants to know why progressive modern individuals are quite hunky-dory with the concept of a girl spending quality time with her vibrator, but they get all squicked out and squeamish about a guy using what he (Volokh) delicately calls a “vagina-shaped vibrator.” Several theories are aired.
First of all, a more descriptive, if no more erotic, phrase might be “male masturbator”, since these come in many varieties, only some of which vibrate.
Second, it seems likely that Eugene’s primary theory has merit: A woman who uses a vibrator is assumed to be substituting it for “actual” sex, and society is quick to approve of her many and varied sound reasons for abstaining in that fashion. Whereas, in contrast, a guy who uses a “male masturbator” or a “fake vagina” is assumed to have no alternative; he’s a pathetic dude who can’t “get any.” Given the very real sexual power imbalance, as old as the invention of outlawry for rape, between men who propose and women who dispose, it seems not at all implausible that a woman with her vibrator is assumed to be choosing it over an array of available sexual partners, while a man with his toy is assumed to be a loser with no better offers.
Striking in its absence from the Volokh list of theories, however, is a simpler hygienic theory. Male masturbation results in an emission which is, Bacchus would think, broadly viewed by men and women alike as more “yucky” than typical feminine lubricities, or even than that rarest of nectars, outright female ejaculate. Worse yet, a vagina substitute’s inherent concavity makes careful cleaning a more problematic task than the quick wipedown of a briskly convex vibrator.
Mind you, in objective terms the hygienic concern is arrant nonsense. Men have mastered cleaning tasks of a far more intricate nature, and will even voluntarily indulge when the object of their cleaning affections is, say, a much-beloved rifle. Nor is it implausible that a truly decent technology for assisted orgasm would command every bit as much gadgeteering enthusiasm as gun guys lavish on the contents of their gun safes. But still, at the end of the day the squeamish objection to concave male sex toys may well boil down to an “Ew, but it’s gonna be icky to clean out when he’s done with it…”
Similar Sex Blogging:
Friday, February 28th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
It turns out that “God is a masturbator.”
These people appear to be serious. But then again, so did the Landover Baptists, once upon a more innocent net age. We report, you decide.
Monday, January 13th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
From Dubberley, which was added to the blog roll long after it should have been, comes a link to this rather startlingly detailed list of male masturbation techniques.
When you consider that this particular technology is invented independently by just about every male on earth, unless first explained or demonstrated by another fairly inexperienced practitioner of the art, it perhaps makes since that a profusion of methods can be compiled. But some of these are…surprising.
Learn something new every day.
Sunday, December 8th, 2002 -- by Bacchus
(Better than what? Fair question. Better than living with Mother Palm and her five daughters, by all accounts. Bacchus avidly and sincerely doubts that companionable ladies have anything to fear from this form of competition.)
Now, is that a backwards and indirect way to start a sex blog entry, or what? Enough pussyfooting (if the expression may be forgiven) around and beating about the bush. (Hmm, forgiveness for inapt expressions probably getting to be an impossible dream by now. Stay tuned, it only gets worse from here.)
The web is awash with tales of The Fleshlight — a male masturbation toy that apparently doesn’t suck. (Literally or figuratively — can we just stop noticing the inapt turns of phrase for a while? If Bacchus was a competent writer, he’d be getting paid for all this.)
Anyway, this toy is all over the web, has been since about 1998 or so, but given the nature of things it’s tough to find a guy who will admit to having tried it. (Personal reviews in the comments are hereby solicited.) However, many of the reviews are positive. For instance:
About a week later it arrived. I was instantly worried when I felt how heavy it was, but that ended up being a plus. Once it was unwrapped, I ran a finger over the pink lips. The feeling was soft and malleable, “Real Feel Super Skin” is simply amazing. It’s light mild sent of vanilla was pleasant and not over powering. I followed the easy instructions and got to work. A few moments later I was moaning in ecstasy.
Is the “Fleshlight” better than the real thing? No. But if you had the real thing, you wouldn’t be reading this. Is it better then your hand? Oh yes! I couldn’t believe how good it felt, so close to the real thing, but no need to buy flowers.
The folks over at Clean Sheets were a little more reserved in their endorsement, but they still gave this item a thumb (or something) up:
Our reviewer’s first impressions of the product were “I GOTTA have this” and “very unusual feel.” Said one man; “The appearance was relatively life-like. The vanilla scent was oddly pleasing.” Indeed. Closing your eyes and touching the material is eerie; like touching the real thing. One man said “Closest thing to the real thing I ever felt.”
In use, they seem to cull all kinds of honors. “With the right lube, the feel is very nice.”
Overall, this product received very handsome commentary: “Not as good as the real thing but definitely better than your hand. I like using it while watching videos.” “This is tons of fun and feels great. It’s almost the perfect sex toy!”
Bacchus has not yet tried this device — it’s not exactly cheap, and there’s an “ick factor” (reported on by the folks at Nerve) that’s impossible to ignore. (However, even the Nerve reviewer appears to have enjoyed the Fleshlight once he, uhm, “screwed his courage to the sticking point” and got down to business.)
So: Any fans of this thing out there who want to tell us how it feels?
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