Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Gotta Laugh At The Queef
Lacking any better system, my browser’s bookmarks tend to fill up with sex-related news and items of interest to post here,whether I’m posting or not. However, when I go missing and don’t post anything for a while, the sheer amount of sex-related bookmarks that I’ve saved to discuss later tends to… well, proliferate like bunnies on Viagra and Clomid. That is, right now, my bookmarks look borderline obsessive. Basically, if anyone comes in the room, I immediately worry whether they are going to check out the contents of my bookmarks sidebar and immediately have me hosed down with cold water, forcefed saltpeter, and made to watch infomercials until my libido moderates. For the good of all concerned, it’s time to clear some of these out.
I don’t need to tell you that sex can be funny if looked at the right way. Anyone who has had the unfortunate experience of deciding to tape themselves having sex and positioned the camera at an unflattering angle (male butts, from the back, fucking away in missionary position are comical… sorry, but it’s true) will know this is true. Back in March, there was an amusing article by Valerie Frankel on MSNBC.com and Self.com on the the joys and fumbles of sex:
Think of the funniest sound in the world. A fart? A burp? Slurp? Squish? Plop? If you don’t make at least three of those noises during sex, you’re not doing it right. How about the silliest positions you could get yourself into? Ankles around your ears? One leg sticking straight up like a cat? On your palms and rear in the air like a camel? Now you see my point: Sex is universally the stuff of comedy.
Sounds familiar to me, as did the embarrassing stories Ms. Frankely shares about her own sexual miscues through the ages. Things happen. Don’t think you’re doing it wrong because you made some noise from places you didn’t think could make noise (boob farts?) or smoothly started juggling a lubed-up toy. The tricky part is deciding in a split second and in the middle of the act itself whether or not to give in to the humor. And remember, even the porn professionals fail comically sometimes.
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Categories: Sex news
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Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Not Blind Yet
Ah, springtime! The birds are chirping and gathering twigs to make their nests. The trees and flowers are blooming. And just to prove that man is in touch with nature, you can bet that all across the country, chickens are choking, monkeys are being spanked, and young ladies are giving their fuzzy bunnies a carrot. As I mentioned last week, Masturbation Month got off to its usual hard-pumping start (please feel free to substitute a metaphor more suitable to your gender and/or wanking technique of choice) over the weekend with the 2009 Masturbate-A-Thon in San Francisco. The SF Weekly has a few photos. And while I haven’t found a decent report on what went on at this year’s event, SF Weekly printed an article last week that answers such questions as “How do you make all of these people comfortable while they jack off?” (answer: doggie beds) and “How do you keep track of the number of orgasms with women?” According to judge Nellie Wilson:
“It can be tricky with a woman, because they tend to run together. Is it one long one, for example, or three short ones? Do you segment? How do you make the distinction? Sometimes it’s clear. Often it’s a judgment call.”
From the event’s official site, I did find that the new record for men’s distance ejaculation is 5 feet, 4 inches. And last year’s record holder, Masanobu Sato of Japan, broke his own record for nonstop masturbation and clocked in at just two minutes short of 10 hours! (Ow.)
Elsewhere on the masturbation front, Oprah Winfrey apparently stunned her studio audience into utter silence last week when she and guest, sex educator Laura Berman, suggested that parents not only make sure their teenage daughters know it’s OK to masturbate, but to encourage them to do so, even if it means buying their girls vibrators. The fact that this sounds radical is a pretty potent argument for Masturbation Month and what may first seem like a frivolous gimmick. (We’ll know we’re in trouble when Hallmark comes up with a card.) And if Oprah pushing it and Britney Spears singing about it can help, then good for them. (OK, for those of us with a little more time perspective, I don’t think Cyndi Lauper’s “She Bop” or the Divinyls “I Touch Myself” did much good. Maybe we need video? We need Good Vibes to sponsor Tristan Taormino to produce a “how to” video that would be shown to all of the 5th and 6th grade girls instead of the “how to use sanitary napkins and belts” movies Kotex used to show in the 60s and 70s. Not to date myself or anything.)
I also ran across this terrific You Tube video (from Little Plum Pictures) where young women talk about masturbation, particularly about how no one ever, ever wants to talk about girls masturbating and what that means to girls as they grow up:
Finally, there was this humorous piece about a man who discovered masturbation was actually more fun than killing time on the computer, thanks to a power outage.
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Categories: Sex news
Tags: masturbation
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Between Us, A Girl (Part 4 of 5)
“Wow, Jen. That’s some erection you’ve got there.”
For the first time in what seems like hours (“If you experience an erection lasting more than four hours, seek medical help.”), my own cock is deflated and wagging like a puppy’s tail as I walk across the bedroom. “I think I’m envious.”
It’s hard to know whether this is a serious or comic moment. There you stand, admiring yourself in our full-length mirror. Your auburn hair almost hides your face as you look down past your breasts to where Kristy and I have buckled you into the black leather harness. You look a little scared and a little giggly. Straps wrap around each naked leg; another strap wraps around your waist and then attaches to the leg straps. And there, in the middle, solidly resting in a metal ring and pressing against a pad of leather on top of your lower belly, is the dildo.
You turn slightly, seeing what your new cock looks like from the side. It’s purple, not too large, with a natural looking head, raised veins, and a double-humped bump for balls. Sighing, you turn away from the mirror, looking at me, Kristy, then back at me.
“He who hesitates is lost” and you’re hesitating. Before hesitation becomes wavering, before wavering devolves into doubt, I quickly hug you from behind and kiss your neck. Your skin is warm on my reassuring lips and still carries memories of afternoon’s soap and shampoo. Those smells linger beneath an indescribable smell that isn’t a smell. That is, I don’t smell it as much as imagine it—an aroma of sex and adventure, an aroma of all that you’ve done with Kristy so far tonight. I reach one hand around to hold one of your breasts, the other hand slides down past your waist to clutch the dildo. I lift it to an adolescent angle, wag it a bit from side to side, then let it drop. Another surprise from Kristy’s bag of tricks.
“I don’t know about this,” you say. Your hand grips my hand, holding it to your left breast. You laugh nervously, but I can tell you’re also excited. Your breathing is rapid. I can feel your heart racing. Your body is pushed against mine, moving into me even as we’re not moving at all. You may be reluctant, but that only goes so far. You don’t want to not be touched now. You don’t want to stop. You just need a way out of this hiatus, this dildo-induced limbo. You need to be led by your newfound balls.
“What’s to know?” Kristy says. She’s standing naked in front of you. “Look at it. It’s big and long and hard. Looks yummy to me!”
You shake your hips a little, watching the dildo sway back and forth. “Well, OK. I mean, it would look yummy to me too if I were on the receiving end. But I’m not. What do you want me to do with it?”
“Pretend it’s really yours! Like it’s a part of you. Your…” Kristy leans closer. “...cock.” Kristy draws out that word, leaning into you. The dildo is pointing up, pressed between your bellies. She almost whispers, “What do guys do with their cocks?”
“Play with them when no one is looking?” I say, trying to help.
You both laugh. You shoot me a look over your shoulder. “Um, when they think no one is looking is more like it,” you say. “Men aren’t subtle.”
Kristy is still belly-to-belly with you. She reaches around you, grabs my back above my ass, and pulls us both close as she kisses you full on the lips. She lets go and steps back.
“Break’s over,” she says. She slides her hands down your chest, down, down. And then she grabs the dildo as if it were an erect cock. Your cock. And then she strokes it in that underhanded way women stroke a man’s cock when they’re standing in front of him. It starts as if they’re grabbing a handle and giving it a pull. They take it in their hand and pull themselves toward you. Only then do they start stroking it, sliding it in and out of their hand or, more firmly, sliding the outer skin forward and back. And that’s what Kristy is doing. Oh, the dildo doesn’t have skin to slide, but Kristy is definitely treating it as if it were your cock or mine.
“Mmmm, Jenny. Your cock is so big,” she says innocently. You laugh. Kristy kisses you again and drops to her knees in front of you.
And as I hold your breasts from behind and kiss your neck, I watch over your shoulder as Kristy fellates your new cock. With great show and gusto, she licks the length of it and flicks at the head with her tongue. She takes the dildo into her mouth and holds it there, stroking it with her hands. She looks up at you with the cock slowly sliding in and out of her small mouth. Her eyes are big and they twinkle. You run your fingers through Kristy’s hair the way I’ve done so many times with you, times when it’s been you kneeling and my cock in your mouth. My own very real cock is hard again. I reach between us and point my erection upward, then nestle it between the cheeks of your naked ass. I run my fingertips over your nipples and watch Kristy’s head bobbing, her hand sliding around the purple shaft.
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Categories: Erotica
Tags: threesomes, anal, erotic fiction, stories
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
May Menage a Moi
I just watched the movie, Quiet City, on Sundance Channel. And, while I’ll readily admit to being a mumblecore slut and that therefore my opinion here may be somewhat suspect, I just want to say how much I loved this movie! Yes, the characters (naturally) didn’t do much, but that’s part of the point. While they were going on about their lives, they were genuine and likeable. I also liked the composition of the visuals in and around Brooklyn; it reminded me of when New York still had that “place to be” romance to it. Finally, I thought the lead actress (and co-writer), Erin Fisher, was adorable. Those lips, those eyes! Erin, if you want to come bum around suburban Boston (“Ooo, look! Another Dunkin Donuts!”), just let me know.
May is Masturbation Month. San Francisco’s Masturbate-a-Thon is early this year (this Saturday, May 2). Competitions this year include Longest Squirt, Longest Time Spent Masturbating, Most Orgasms (male record is 31, female is 49), and something new called the Tag Team Fun event. If you can’t attend in person, you can go all voyeur and follow along online. You can also download a pledge form, get sponsors (by the minute or by the orgasm, your choice), and go it alone or with friends. Money raised by the event benefit the Center for Sex and Culture. (And I won’t embed this, but the Center for Sex and Culture is featured in this Penn and Teller Bullshit videoclip on masturbation. The abstinence folk at the beginning and end of this clip make me want to scream… and possibly beat them over the head with a healthy 15 year old.)
I was just discussing environmental initiatives in sex with my pal, JeN. And aside from the eco lubricants (organic, no hormones, glycerin, sugars, etc.) such as Good Clean Love’s Almost Naked flavored lubes, and a new effort to recycle old sex toys (not for reuse… don’t worry), we couldn’t seem to come up with much to recommend for you green, yet horny, types. But then I found the Earth Angel Wind-Up vibrator. Made of 100 percent recycled parts, you simply wind up the vibe for 4 minutes to keep it buzzing away for a half an hour. No more batteries or vampire chargers!
Wait… it’s still April, isn’t it? So, since it is technically still National Poetry Month, I have one last link for you. Visit the A Taste of Sex podcast to listen to poets reading and/or singing their erotic poems (songs, stories, etc.).
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Categories: Sex news
Tags: masturbation, erotic poetry, podcast, sex toys
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
National (Erotic) Poetry Month
Clearly, not everyone’s a poetry fan. For me, I blame those high school English classes where I had to do lengthy explications of John Donne poems. (Which is not to slight Donne. He wrote some pretty smoldering stuff. “License my roving hands, and let them go/ Before, behind, between, above, below.” Needless to say, my teacher didn’t choose that poem for us to explicate.) It may have been something different for you… perhaps a bad experience as the subject of a limerick. Still, I got over my fear of poetry. And perhaps you can as well. My recommended therapy for poetry aversion disorder is to read poetry. Well, to read erotic poetry.
Celebrate National Poetry Month by reading some erotic poetry. Visit the Old Poetry erotica area and start browsing. For starters, let me recommend Ovid’s “Love in the Afternoon,” Brautigan’s “Deer Tracks,” and Bukowski’s “Like a Flower in the Rain,” all on the first page. My poem below isn’t in that league, but I try.
nooner
we have an hour, maybe less.
an hour to dive inside
each other’s skin,
an hour to laugh and moan,
an hour to throw off blankets
and imagined discretion,
an hour that’s both
short and expansive,
restrictive yet liberating,
discrete not discreet,
an hour that now has only 58 minutes.
and with only 58 minutes,
one doesn’t stand on formality.
the clothes must come off.
i hop like a buffoon,
wrestling a delinquent sock.
there are no awards
for showmanship, only results.
your hand is cold.
you hold my cock
like a drawer pull.
I grip the back of your neck
like a cello.
striped muscle cells contract
and the distance between us closes.
still more than 55 minutes.
still more than enough time
to back you against the wall
where warmth is palpable.
skin is inevitable.
lips haved started to touch
in that easy face dance of
dip and dart,
move countermove.
perhaps this clock is internal.
we seem to know how much time
we have to kiss, know how many minutes remain
after letting you grind your wet desire
against my edgewise wrist,
riding the nub of bone
until my fingers drip.
and yes, there is a bed.
it is a fourth-dimensional wormhole.
there is no other possible explanation,
no other way for us to
have had enough time
to fuck so many ways.
no time left to shower.
you pee.
I pee.
we share a soapy washcloth,
a towel, a mirror.
and with two minutes left,
there’s nothing left to do
except start to kiss again.
Hear this poem read aloud…
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Categories: Poetry Audio
Tags: erotic poetry
Marilyn Chambers Passes the Baton
Yesterday’s news had several odd or unexpected porn-related stories. First, I was surprised to read that Marilyn Chambers died unexpectedly at the age of 56. If you haven’t seen the 1972 film Behind the Green Door, you should. Yes, it’s tame by today’s standards. And yes, some things (clothes, language, the black/white racial messages) may make you wince. But take it for what it was: part of the vanguard movement of getting porn out of the backroom stag films of my father’s day and into the mainstream. And Marilyn Chambers was (at first accidentally and later consciously) part of that movement throughout her adult life.
Here’s a scene from Behind the Green Door I found streaming online. The voyeurism in the club is hotter than the more polished, colder voyeurism in Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut. The sweat on her skin, the expressions on her face as gets fucked on stage are very, very real. To me, at least. NOTE: Clicking on the video below will open a new and annoying browser window. Don’t click on it unless you’re willing to have that open. Just close it and then you can play the video… which IS worth viewing.
Rest in peace, Marilyn Chambers.
In a lighter story (also on MSNBC… clearly on a roll), I was encouraged to read the story about Japan’s 75-year-old porn star. Shigeo Tokuda has been making porn movies in Japan for the last 16 years and has plans to keep going for “at least” another 5 years. Tokuda’s first career was as a typical Japanese office worker. But for the last 16 years, Tokuda has appeared in over 200 porno films, having sex with women ranging in age from their 20s to his own age. Clearly I’m not the only one inspired by Tokuda, as his movies are very popular with Japan’s rapidly aging population.
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Categories: Sex news
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Saturday, April 11, 2009
Well, That’s the Last Thing We Need
Study: Children Exposed To Pornography May Expect Sex To Be Enjoyable
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Wednesday, April 08, 2009
I Only Do It So I Can Breathe
I’m a guy, so it seems like a silly question to ask. “Do you masturbate?” I mean, you may as well ask me whether I breathe or whether I like breasts better than ottomans. But it turns out that there’s actual value in asking the question—and a few surprising answers. A 2007 University of Chicago study on masturbation found that 61 percent of men aged 18 to 60 told researchers in a face-to-face interview that they had masturbated in the previous year. The number for women was only 38 percent. So, right away… maybe people aren’t doing for themselves quite as much as I thought. You might be thinking, “Yes, but look at the ages in the study. Once folks get married, they don’t masturbate as much.” Aha! There’s one of the surprises:
In American culture, masturbation is often viewed as a sexual refuge for singles, as a way to compensate for a lack of sex in a relationship. In this survey, that turned out not to be the case. In both genders, a sexless relationship suppressed masturbation. Respondents who masturbated the most were usually involved in a sexual relationship. Having partner sex, it appears, piques interest in solo sex.
Women were found to masturbate more if they were in a relationship in which they were not getting either enough physical or emotional closeness.
Speaking of masturbation, did you know that masturbation may help alleviate hay fever symptoms? Or sex. Your choice. The research out of Iran seems a little specious and (naturally) didn’t study women at all. The idea seems to be that, since blood flow in the genitals and in a stuffed-up nose are both related to the sympathetic nervous system, an orgasm might constrict blood vessels in the nose as well as the nads and the subsequent relaxation might unblock those nasal passages. It’s worth a try.
Monday is Thomas Jefferson’s birthday. And I’m sure Jefferson would appreciate being remembered as a man of action and not just a man of words. I’m not sure what the other presidents would think of Justine Lai’s series of paintings imagining herself having sex with each of them. Eighteen down, twenty-six to go. And why doesn’t it surprise me that Grant is into spanking?
Compared with Ms. Lai, I’m no painter. But, as I said before, I want to do more art for fun. Here’s a little painting thingee I did last night before bed.
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Categories: Sex news
Tags: masturbation, art, sex research
Monday, April 06, 2009
Spank for a Brighter Tomorrow
Well, it’s spring. And, as you all know, in springtime a man’s fancy turns to his long-neglected blog. Yes. The plan is that I will actually be posting new material. For instance, I am almost finished with the next installment of the “Between Us, A Girl” serial story. Looks like it’s going to be five parts instead of four! Poems will continue. (Speaking of which, why not forward my spring haiku to folks you know? It’s time to flex those flirting muscles.) I’ll be back to commenting on sex-related stories from the daily news. And finally, I’ve got this urge to do some drawing. This one today is mine. I have no idea what will come of this.
I’ve also been doing a little housekeeping. I finally ditched Blogrolling.com for my links list due to their new advertisement policy and basic unreliability. It also gave me the chance to roll my own blogroll internally, break it into categories, cull the dead links, and add a bunch of new must read (or view) sites. I got rid of Meebo for now. Aside from flirting with Devi, there didn’t seem to be much call for a group chat area. Instead, I’ve added a Digsby IM widget. So, if you see I’m online when you’re visiting, feel free to give me a shout or quick grope.
Speaking of news, did you see where researchers have found that spanking enhances relationships? Actually, it wasn’t just spanking. Researchers attended BDSM events in Arizona and Colorado where they measured the stress hormone cortisol in participants before, during, and after S&M sessions. They found that:
During S&M scenes, cortisol rose significantly in those receiving stimulation, but dropped back to normal within 40 minutes if the scene went well. There was no change in those inflicting the activity. ... “When sexual intercourse is consensual it is not stressful—even if it is extreme sex.”
The researchers also attempted to measure relationship closeness. In both studies, couples who said their sessions went well and that the party went well also reported feeling closer to their partner afterward. Researchers admit that they haven’t adequately examined the effects of other shared activities on relationship closeness. It’s possible taking a walk and holding hands may have the same effect. Except without the welts.
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Categories: Sex news
Tags: bdsm, art, spanking
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Spring Haiku
I.
a daffodil. geese
flying north. soon we may have
sex without those socks!
II.
the bulb bursts, shaft springs
erect, bobbing in the sun.
plants do that too, right?
III.
look the way he melts!
hasn’t chocolate bunny
seen pussy before?
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Categories: Poetry
Tags: erotic poetry, haiku
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Fascinated by language, drawn to art, and utterly amused by everyone's naughty bits. Beyond that, I'm hundreds of years old and I live on an island. Read the play.
