date machine : penis

Sex Machine: Come on My Face

amboabe — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 21:13:00 GMT

Zeitgeisty speculated last week that it’s hard to know whether pornography preceded certain socio-sexual habits, or whether normal people invented them. Swallowing is something I’ve rarely experienced, but I’ve always found it sweet when it’s happened to me. I’ve never pulled out and come on someone.

I feel ridiculous when I pull out. After all of the intense emotions and dilated ascendency of sex, without a condom through impatience or mutual agreement of some sort, the man reaches his limit and manages to remove himself just in time to spill his seed on some more fallow turf. The well-timed pull out must surely have been practiced by generations of randy men, precocious students, and willow-eyed cock-painters.

More recently, the pull out has become a requirement of most all straight pornography. It’s the pay-off, the visual punctuation for the vicarious masturbator. Whenever I’ve been in a position to come on another person I always feel an uncomfortable parallel with porn. When I feel myself closing in on the ejaculatory pivot point without a condom, I feel torn.

Coming is just a moment during sex for me. It’s not an ending point or some super desirable peak. It’s nice and all, but it’s not a big part of what I want out of sex so the more energy I have to spend thinking about what will happen when I do come is distracting. Especially when thinking about it evokes all sorts of expulsive imagery of porn men milking their scepters onto the fleshy landing pad of a woman’s breasts or face. I can’t handle thinking of myself in that way, and I’m even less interested in thinking about someone I’m sleeping with in that way.

For all the social rhetoric to the contrary, there’s something instinctually derogatory in porn for me. There are a lot of crafty ways to rationalize pornography as empowerment, but I have a wince-reflex when I think about it. For me it’s most effective the more derogatory it is. All the Vaseline-lit softcore porn feels unnatural and alien. The athletic grinding and animalistic hammer sessions feel the most honest to me. I’ve lately found some porn that’s openly derogatory to men.

Groups of Amazonian porn star women roam the streets looking for regular guys to sleep with. They have quick rabbit sex with convenience store clerks, chubby mechanics, dorky comic book nerds. They emasculate the homely, make fun of the guys with small penises, or the ones who can’t get an erection.

When I think of pulling out and coming on someone I feel the same insinuation of macho dominance and conquest, the physical degradation of someone I care enough about to sleep with.

I masturbated for the first time since I moved to New York a couple of days ago. I came all over myself, my chest, my chin, my navel, my thighs. It was a mess. And it felt nice. The warm, velvety come felt soft and inviting as it pooled over my skin. It felt gentle and modest. It was a few ounces of bodily fluid. It smelled neutral; it probably smelled like me.

Bodily fluids are a good litmus test for attraction. When someone’s leakings disgust you, odds are good you’re not really attracted to them. When you really want someone, thinking about their saliva, vaginal fluid, sweat, period, come, pre-ejaculate; it all elicits some carnal hunger. We’re taught to be ashamed of our bodies and their functioning. These are private areas, and personal zones that can feel dirty to share with someone else.

The notion that coming on someone is actually, truly degraded implies that there’s something dirty or improper in coming; that a nice, normal woman wouldn’t want all that foul man tar on her body.

I never imagined that it could be nice and sweet; just another part of yourself to share with someone you really, really like.

Previous Posts:

Sex Machine: Because I Can

Love Machine: Am I Romantic Enough?

Sex Machine: Picking Up Women in Gay Bars

Sex Machine: Diary of a Sperm Donor

Date Machine: Long Distance Lovers

Sex Machine: A Revised History of Whores

Date Machine: Moving to New York in Pictures

Date Machine: Old Love Letters, or Things That Got Thrown Away in the Move

Sex Machine: Talking About Sex With Your Parents

Love Machine: Willing to Relocate

Sex Machine: Checking my Oil, or the HIV Test

Date Machine: How To Pick Up a Bartender

Date Machine: Are You My Girlfriend Now?

PDA Machine: Making Out in a Bar

Sex Machine: The Cake is a Lie, or Does My Butt Show When I Walk?

Obituary Machine: Natasha Richardson, or Smoking Cigarettes on the Roof

Love Machine: Throwing Punches, or Get Your Hands Off of My Woman

Sex Machine: Show Me Your Penis

amboabe — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 09:41:00 GMT

It's strange that there aren't more penises in movies. I see my own penis everyday, several times. There's nothing remarkable about it. I admit to looking at it with a fond eye sometimes, imbuing its sloping pink dangle with a certain metaphysical nostalgia. Still, genitals have somehow become danger signals to many people, giant red X's that can't be looked at without tearing the moral fabric of the universe.

Penises aren't any more or less attractive than vaginas. They can have unpleasant qualities, but in terms of visual appeal I'd say they're at least an order of magnitude more attractive than the average foot. Of course anyone can go barefoot, regardless of what calloused and veiny claws they might have, but penises need to be treated like a controlled substance. Though you might have one of your own, you must be of a certain age before you're allowed to see someone else's in the media.

The videogame is not often cited as a figurehead of social progress, but I saw a trailer for a new expansion of Grand Theft Auto IV today that features a conspicuous penis appearance. Penises have appeared in games before, many of them, probably too many to recount. What's remarkable is that GTA IV is not a marginal or pornographic game. It's one of the biggest franchises in videogame history. Having a penis in GTA IV is like Harrison Ford showing his male rudder in an Indiana Jones movie.

There's nothing remotely interesting about the scene that the nudity is used in. It's filled with stereotype and cheap jokes about how gross the male genital is supposed to be. The politician, consciously delivering his orders while naked is an extension of the dick-centric machismo that thirteen year-olds have been giggling about since time began. Dick's are disgusting, but the most powerful man in the room is so confident in his position that he is unaffected by the revulsion of his audience. Their reactions, for better or worse, are immaterial. Even if he doesn't literally have the biggest dick in the room, he's still aware that he's got the biggest figurative dick.

The punchline underscores how completely absurd all of those abstract phallocentricities are when taken literally. For an organ whose size is always a point of interest, it's almost anti-climactic to come to the end of a three-minute scene only to see the flaccid, middle-aged, polygon appendage. Sometimes a penis is just a penis.

I still don't understand what's so shameful or disgusting about seeing a penis. I've met a lot of people who seem preprogrammed to scrunch up their faces and squint every time the subject arises. It's as if the existence of genitals were as repellent as boogers or cooties. The imperfections of the penis, the veins, the pubic hair, the alien skin of the scrotum, the suggestion of autonomous movement when it flexes; it's all cause for recoil.

Many men certainly have similar knee-jerk reactions to the idea of vagina. There is the idea of the vagina as the mystical honey box from which all life flows, but further talk about menstruation, queefing (or vaginal flatulence, if I might be so bold), or hairy labias are unwelcome.

If those issues exist, it seems like art would be the perfect place to exorcise them. In the same way that zombies and heartless fascists armed with nuclear warheads dance around the flickering mobile of the film world, it seems only natural that genital anxiety might be an undiscovered genre for storytellers to mine for material.

It's like we live in two different worlds: the anatomically safe one where gender is based on personality stereotype and facial features, and then a kinky underworld where the ugly grammatical points of our bodies rub against each other in the darkness. It's always surprising to me when I go into the bathroom at work and unzip my pants for a piss and don't see that dangerously unpredictable underworld come rushing out like the ghosts inside Pandora's box.

Instead, it's just another body part, a mistranslation, a lost remnant from a parallel universe where feelings don't have to be kept separate from the vessels that transport them.

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Love Machine: Making A Scene

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Sex Machine: Don't Forget to Masturbate

Love Machine: My Mother

Love Machine: Thanks But I'll Pass, or Handling Rejection

Naked Machine: Buying New Underwear, or Sex in a Dressing Room

Date Machine: Look Ugly in a Photograph

Love Machine: On Your Own, or Moving On

Love Machine: Going to Bed Angry

Love Machine: The Hooker on the Corner

Sex Machine: Having Sex on Inauguration Night

Sex Machine: If You Can Get Me Hard I'll Show You A Good Time

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Sex Machine: Getting Laid

Love Machine: I Was a Six Year-Old Virgin, or Is There A Happy Ending?

Sex Machine: The Kink In My Hair (and other weird fetishes)

spjv840 — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 16:38:00 GMT

When it comes to fetishes, I'm pretty vanilla. I'm not into toe sucking, toe licking, being whipped, beaten, choked, donkey punched, being pierced by large needles in strange places. I don't get off on latex, being watched or watching others, orgies sound more like a huge collection of germs than a good time and people with stumps do not turn me on. F*ck me in the ass and I'm happy. But not everyone is so easily satisfied...

I saw an ad on craigslist recently in the "strictly platonic" section (because we all know how well that rule sticks) from a man looking for women with medium to long hair who would be willing to let him wash their hair and nothing else. And he's willing to pay! I'm imagining a new kind of hair salon here where women and men go in and get paid to have their hair washed by people with kinky hair washing fetishes.

My curiosity got the better of me and I decided to go on a search of various sexual fetishes to see how weird some of these get. Strap in, or strap on, it might get bumpy.

Things that turn some people on, in no specific order:

Vorarephilia - eating or being eaten by others; usually swallowed whole, in one piece

Vomerophilia - being attracted to VOMIT

Hybristophilia - criminals, particularly for cruel or outrageous crimes

Coprophilia - Poop play

Diaperism - attraction to diapers or people wearing diapers

Frotteurism - rubbing against a non-consenting person

Apotemnophilia - being an amputee

Lactaphilia - attraction to human breast milk

Mammaphilia - female breasts (.....)

Ondinism - pee play

Peodeiktophilia - exposing one's penis in public or non-consenting person

And then it gets really weird. There are sites dedicated to:

- Trampling (women walking over men, usually in heels)
- Girls eating sandwiches
- Gut flopping (use your imagination)
- Girls sneezing
- Crippled women

And don't get me started on Objectum Sexuals, or people who are in intimate, emotional, sexual relationships with inanimate objects.

Sex Machine: Bigger Isn't Always Better

spjv840 — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 13:52:00 GMT

I once dated a man who had a very large urethra opening. The kind of large where you can't help but stare at it in surprise for a second before realizing that maybe you shouldn't be staring at it with a look of shock on your face. That sucker was BIG, man. I could probably have stuck my thumb up there, but I'm not into that kind of thing (NSFW).

I've never seen anything like it and quite honestly, hope I never do again. Not to be mean or anything, but it was really unattractive - like a big eye staring right at you. I remember catching a glimpse of pre-ejaculate fluid pouring out of there and thinking "EW, that's going to be in me in any second now".

My question is this: Why do some men have larger urethra openings than others? Does it get stretched? Or is it like ears and noses and it just comes (...) in different sizes?

Have you had experiences with larger than normal urethras?

Sex Machine: Mmmm...Morning Wood

spjv840 — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 15:42:00 GMT

I've actually met men and women who don't like morning sex. This boggles my mind. Firstly, a guy wakes up with an erection a good deal of the time. For the most part, it has nothing to do with sex, just a need to pee - BUT it is a hard penis. Who the hell passes up a hard penis when it's shoved up against you in bed? Not I, for one.

Secondly - morning sex is a great way to start the day. Nothing says "TODAY IS GOING TO BE GREAT!" more than a pot of coffee waiting for you and a man between your legs before 8 a.m.

One guy I briefly dated last year was a total morning sex guy. As soon as he opened his eyes he was all over me, and got me to see the beauty of an early morning sex romp before you even get out of bed. But here's the thing - I have a few rules when it comes to morning sex.

Miss B's Morning Sex Rules:

1) The hangover rule. If the room is spinning and I complain about having to vomit, kindly remove your face and your penis from anywhere near me.

2) No mouth kissing. Sometimes I break this rule, but for the most part - no. I don't like morning breath, my own or anyone else's. Sharing morning breath is not attractive and will probably make me gag. If you're intent on lots of kissing during morning sex, go brush your teeth and then bring me my toothbrush and some water so I can brush mine without having to get up and we can quickly resume the morning bone. Or at least pop a piece of gum in your mouth real quick.

3) No early morning butt sex. Obviously. If I haven't had my coffee yet and haven't taken my morning pee, my ass is off limits.

4) If the room is too bright, it ain't going to happen. Me + sunshine+ just waking up = Ha Ha Ha.

Other than that, I love morning sex.

This morning, though, I had an unexpected surprise and a first, if I remember correctly. Barely after I opened my eyes, my boyfriend was going down on me before I even knew what was going on. All I'll say about this one is that it's highly recommended, and it definitely changes your outlook for the day. Even the icicles hanging from the electric line look happy.

Sex Machine: Sex Without A Condom Is So Much Better

spjv840 — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 15:34:00 GMT

I'll be honest, since everyone loves honesty. I cannot stand condoms. This is nothing new, obviously. Few people actually like condoms, but still use them because of the importance of safe sex and unwanted pregnancies.

Back in the day, when I was single, and enjoying one-night stands and random sex, I would use condoms........but not all the time. There is nothing more mood-killing to me than when you're about to have hot sex and a guy suddenly says, "Oh baby, can you put the condom on - it's so much more sexy when you do it!" Uhhhh...seriously? I've had to this a few times and I hate it. It's not my penis, it's yours. YOU put the goddamn condom on it. I'll admit to tossing the condom aside a couple times and saying "screw it" to safe sex for a night. The ironic thing about that is that from all the unsafe sex I've had in the past (oh relax, it wasn't that much), I never caught a single STD (been tested numerous times and nada) or got pregnant (my uterus prefers to wait for when I'm in a relationship to get knocked up first, apparently). Of course, this is just luck on my part. It's not something I would encourage people to do, ever, obviously, but it's certainly not something I can say I practice with 100% effort therefore I can't preach about it.

The thing is, I find condoms just really disgusting. They smell, they make noise, they scrunch up, they take forever to put on, men look awful putting them on with their face all serious while trying to not lose their erection. Not to mention that sex without a condom is better than any other sex around.

Now that I'm in a long-term relationship, I have a new type of birth control that allows me the pleasure of condom-less sex all the time. I love it. I don't have to worry about always making sure I have a well-stocked condom drawer anymore. I don't have to purchase $20 boxes of condoms in a hurry late at night at the corner store while dude waits on my couch, stroking his wang until I come back, condoms in hand. I don't have to bite my tongue as I roll the condom down a dick, and then have the smell of latex on my fingers - we all know how attractive that smell is.

It's funny now that I think back to all the guys I've slept with - there has only ever been one guy who was consistent with the condom use and it was the guy you'd least expect it from too. The most slacker, messy-haired stoner kid you'd ever meet, but what a dick that one had. It could make a grown woman cry.

Please note: I'm not encouraging unsafe sex, so kidnly don't get your briefs in a bunch. Thanks.

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Nerve Confessions: The Man Edition
Sex Machine: Your First Time

Sex Machine: How do you like your foreskin?

airheadgenius — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 02:09:00 GMT

(That cheeky young floosie already used this quote today, but I screen grabbed it yesterday so there. Don't sue me spjv)

If you could choose, would you prefer your/their penis to come in it's original packaging, or to have been trimmed?

The reason I ask is because of two confessions written yesterday:

A penis that has the good fortune to remain as nature intended requires no lubricant for any sexual activity. It's simply a better design. Form follows function after all.

If I could wave a magic wand, and given that world hunger had been taken care of, I would give back each and every foreskin to each and every forlorn penis that had it hacked off. The practise is ludicrous, barbaric and unnecessary. It's child abuse.

Here's the up side - in my opinion
Enhanced sensitivity for the man
Easier to give a hand job - more tricks to perform and doesn't require lube, as stated.
Better to blow - see above
There's also a big plus if you're having unprotected sex, since the shaft of the penis, once it's in the vagina (or wherever) slides up and down inside that beautiful excess skin creating reduced friction, less or no need for lube and a longer more quality fuck. It's the difference between being poked and being filled.

The down side
I can't think of one.
I don't buy into the hygiene thing. If you wash you are clean, if you don't you are not. And if there really was an argument for health benefits of circumcision, European men would suffer from higher incidences of penile cancer, std's etc. And they just don't. (Spare me the HIV in Africa argument too because it's got more holes than swiss cheese)

I had never encountered a circumcised penis until I lived in America, so maybe it's a case of being more comfortable with what I grew up with.
I can drive an automatic, but I'd much rather be in control of a stick (shift of course)

Are there men out there who would reverse the procedure if they could? Or women who would change the current condition of their partner?

Now before I nix my sex life completely, let's be clear that I am quite fine and dandy with a modified one.
Especially if it's attached to an attractive, intelligent man.
But I would really love to get my hands on a foreskin...

Joseph Fiennes. I imagine he's got a nice foreskin on him.

Some back catalogue:
Why do men love breasts?
Who pays?
What if?
Have you ever been experienced?
Surprise! I'm Pregnant!
Dogs and Dating
Erectile Dysfunction
Daddy's Girl
I need a Frenchman
What I want
The Fart Edition
Fisting and small snatches
How bloggers date
Did he die?
Je t'adore
Zeitgeisty's Behaviour

Nerve Confessions: The Man Edition

spjv840 — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 19:30:00 GMT

"is the human penis so strange?"

This was clearly submitted by a man. Yes, it is strange. It's the strangest body part ever, with exception of the armpit, which is a topic for a whole different day. The penis is able to cause endless pleasure, as well as pain, emotional trauma (have you ever seen the face of a man who can't get it up?) and not to mention, life changes. Sometimes they are happy and upbeat and sometimes it just wants to be left alone - but it's never really too sure about the last one. The owner of the penis could be tired and passed out, meanwhile the penis is wide awake and ready to party. So yes, it is strange. But we still love it.

"Wearing tighty whities makes you look like you are wearing diapers! It's terrible and I hate seeing it. Start wearing boxers, or get better fitting briefs."

I have a rule. Two rules, actually. No man I date should wear tight whities, or briefs in general. They are unattractive and just gross all around. The most beautiful man in the world (IE: Johnny Depp) could prance around in tighty whities and I would not find it appealing in the least. The second rule is no socks on during sex if the rest of your body is naked. Men should take note. Neither of these two things are sexy. Boxer briefs, on the other hand, are always a surefire way to get into a woman's pants. Especially if you know how to look sexy in them.

"I am so sick of seeing those American Apparel briefs every time I get a guy's pants off."

Ew, yeah. I'd probably walk out of the room if I found out the man was wearing anything American Apparel.

"What's the deal with dry hand jobs? So many women I date do that. A little bit of lubricant would go such a long way, and that just seems basic."

"A hand job delivered with skill requires no lubricant."

I have to agree with the person who said that a handjob done with skill requires no lubricant, although a little lube is always a bit more fun. Honestly, though, I don't think it has anything to do with skill when it comes down to it, but it depends on the penis in question. A dick with foreskin usually enjoys an unlubed handjob while foreskin-less willy's like a little lube action. A little saliva can go a long way, as well - skin or no skin.

"I'm sick of hipsters. You're just as conformist. Just conforming to something else. If you're over 35 and still a hardcore Burner picking up on 20-somethings, without real success in your "art" and no other real job, you need a life. Grow up. Nothing is more pathetic than a holier than thou aging SF hipster."

Yes! Ha ha! Just had to throw that one in there. Couldn't agree more. It's also time to retire the horrid "skinny jeans" trend.

"Is it just me or are crotchless panties just so not sexy"

I don't know why I included this in the Man edition of nerve confessions, but I wanted to reply. Crotchless panties are not sexy. They remind me of something Anna Nicole would wear while eating Cheet-os and drinking a Bud while watching WWF Raw on TNT. Not sexy.

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Sex Machine: Going Down Do's and Don'ts

spjv840 — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 13:22:00 GMT

Ahhh, oral sex. Giving it, receiving it, doesn't matter - It's one of life's little joys. It's good to know some basic do's and don'ts when it comes to going down.

Do Make Eye Contact
Whether you're giving or receiving, making eye contact with your partner is a huge turn on. It shows that you're connected - not in the "Big Brother" "I really feel like we have a connection even though we're both competing for a million bucks" connection, but the "I am here, you are here, and we are having incredible sex right now" connection. It's also a great way to tell if you're both into it. If you keep your eyes closed tight during the whole thing, you might come off as a "God I can't wait for this to be over" prude.

Do Start Off Slow
For most women (there are always exceptions) jumping right in to it and attacking her clit like an ice cream cone can often have the opposite effect you're going for. Make small steps interesting by kissing, licking and teasing before going for the gold. The same goes for men. Jumping his cock and trying to race to the finish line is not the best way to get him to come. By going slow you build up the anticipation of what's to come, literally. When s/he wants you to pick up speed, they will let you know.

Do Make It Your Choice to Spit Or Swallow
Everyone has their own preference for this eternal debate. Whether you spit into a towel or Kleenex or gulp it down and pretend to love it, the choice is ultimately the person who will end up with the mouthful of jizz. There is no real reason not to swallow, if you're worried about health concerns. Unless your guy has a case of funky spunk, the taste is nothing horrible and tastes better than tofu soaked in brussel sprouts. If you're worried about gagging, just keep a towel or tissue close by for you to spit into. For some reason unbeknown to humans, however, guys love when you swallow their sperm. The fact that their little men have just made it down your throat canal is a huge turn on.

Don't advertise your blow job on a billboard.

Your dick isn't that big, even if your ego is.

Don't use your teeth.
Little nibbles on the inner thigh? Cute. Sinking your teeth into your man's penis? Not cute.

Don't blow air into the vagina.
It does not feel good. Case closed.

Don't make slurping noises unless your partner likes that.
(FYI: They probably don't.) But do let her/him know you're enjoying the hard work by giving little moans/groans of enjoyment.

Don't suck directly on the clitoris for long periods of time.
It gets uncomfortable after a while and you'll probably get that tap, tap on your shoulder.

For women, don't be afraid to use your hands.
While your mouth is busy with his cock, use your hands and play with his balls. Or switch it around, use your hands to play with his cock while you suck/lick his balls. He'll thank you for it after, trust me. When you have one of his balls in your mouth, it's the perfect time to ask for that necklace/jacket/bag.

For men, mix it up a bit. Don't constantly lick in one place.
Flick, lick, nibble and swirl with your tongue. Use your hands and explore the rest of her. If you have bad hand-eye coordination, keep your hands on her breasts and play with her nipples.

When in doubt, ask your partner if you're doing it to their satisfaction.

If you get that tap, tap on your shoulder, don't persist on continuing. A woman knows if she's going to come or not that night. If she taps you on the shoulder and does that little head shake, at least she's being kind to you and letting you know so you don't get a tongue cramp in twenty minutes. It might make your dick shrink, but it's better than forcing something that ain't going to happen.

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Date Machine: Erectile Dysfunction

airheadgenius — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 21:41:00 GMT

I started writing on this subject a few weeks ago, but hadn't had occasion to post it, until Amboabe recently broached the subject.

Back when I was a teenager, right through into my early twenties, erections were very easy to come by. All you had to do was smile at a boy the right way and watch the result.

I remember the days when we would slow dance at the local disco (yeah, I know you are too young to remember such things. Bite me) One particular incidence sticks in my mind – a boyfriend from back when I was about 20 couldn't make it through a slow song without getting a massive hard on. As the song would come to a close, he'd say "don't you dare step away from me" – what with those peg topped pants so popular in the 80's and his rather ample appendage, it was like erecting a tent.

All through my 20s and most of my 30s, erectile dysfunction was something that I read about as headlines in magazine advertisements or saw on TV commercials, but not something I'd ever encountered in the flesh.

There was one exception to this rule, as there invariably is, a friend with benefits from my home town. He was a serious drug user though and it was a given that he couldn't rise to the occasion. He was an incredibly passionate lover and a cunning linguist and he never seemed to be remotely bothered that he didn't get it up. Oooo – maybe he was a lesbian trapped in a man's body. Just a thought.

I've never dated older men (contrary to the ''norm'' suggested by fishnets I've never remotely been attracted to them) so prior to the demise of my relationship with my kid's dad, the oldest man I'd ever had sex with was 34.

Young penii always did what was culturally expected of them – they stood proud, hard and tall (well some were a little more diminutive, but hard nonetheless)

After the baby daddy and I broke up, I spent a couple years without even attempting to meet anyone – breastfeeding a newborn, raising a 2 year old and working full time kind of takes the edge off ones desire to date. But when I got back in the game, my new lover was 36.

This man could get a hard on. Instantly. And he could maintain it for ages, but what he couldn't do was orgasm. He managed to come with me only once although we had sex many many times and he claimed to have never orgasmed in his previous relationship. He said that he hadn't been able to come with any regularity for years, regardless of partner. Interestingly, to me at least, he claimed to never have masturbated. Which makes him a mysterious beast, but I've no idea if it impacted on his inability to orgasm.

It seems, like "high risk childbirth" kicking in at 35, this age is the one where the rot sets in for men. Although that turning point for having kids is grossly over stated and in fact many women happily produce without drama in their late 30s and early 40s, the 35 watershed for erectile dysfunction really does appear to be grounded in reality.

Every woman I know sleeping with a 35+ has the same lament - from the hot to the homely. Maybe it's always, maybe very infrequently, but at some point the male member fails to rear it's head.

Whilst my (Thank you God even though I am an atheist) experience with the phenomenon is very limited, it has been suggested that the root cause is stress. And it makes sense that a man approaching middle age probably has bigger and fancier stresses than a manboy of 25, but I wonder if it runs deeper even than that.

I wonder if in fact it's a control thing. Girls learn from the beginning of their sexual experience that making a boy cum is like falling off a log. It really couldn't be any easier. Making a girl orgasm - especially a young not-so-sure-of-herself one - can take time and effort. Maybe men get tired of being the ones who are culturally expected to be easy. Maybe the 35+ man wants a little bit more consideration and so, consciously or not, he makes his female work that little bit harder.

What beats me though is the historical fact that a large percentage of men go for younger women. Once they reach the mid life crisis point, the age gap widens considerably. This is also the time where they are statistically most likely to have problems getting it up. Perhaps they think that some young hottie will increase their chances, but it seems that hotness doesn't have all that much to do with it.

No wonder some bright spark invented Viagra.

I know that if I'd met erectile dysfunction in my 20's, I would have taken it personally. These days, I'd rather not encounter it and am unfazed and supportive when I do, but it doesn't upset my ego. ''Honey, it's not me, it's you''.

The obligatory back catalogue:
Daddy's Girl
I need a Frenchman
What I want
The Fart Edition
Fisting and small snatches
How bloggers date
Did he die?
Je t'adore
Zeitgeisty's Behaviour
Rate my Profile
My kink is better than your kink
The good the bad and the ugly
I am a whore
First Date sex?
Small Juicy Ones
The Perfect Blowjob
What is a boyfriend
Friends with Benefits
Real Women
Another quick pull out
Lesbian Lovers Come Out
Digits
Asymmetrical Knobbage
Cunning Linguist
Cunnilingus
Fabulous at 40
Winehouse Reveals
The Chick Facial File
Mirrors
Confession plus Daily Knob!
Abusive?
Celebrity Confessions: Boy George
Dick Trilogy Part 3
MORE dicks in my inbox
Dicks in your inbox
Read my Sodding Profile!
Nerve Confessions: Herpes
The Queen Confesses
The Arse Man Cometh
The Ass Play Chronicles
The Sandwich Blowjob Porn Connection
Bangin Ass
Deformed Dicks
Did I really dream that?
Why I don't date Celebrities
Fashionably late or just a slacker

His face is nothing to write home about, but I still wouldn't mind him naked in my kitchen. Jamie Oliver.

Sex Machine: Oh Yeah, That I Did

spjv840 — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 12:56:00 GMT

Yesterday I went through my list of "Never Haves" and today I'm tackling what I have done. Obviously, the list is not as long as I'd like it to be or I'm forgetting some important facts, but feel free to share your stories in the comments!

With that said, I have:

- had sex outside. Once on a blanket in the backyard with DreamBoy, and another time by the side of the road leaning against a Jeep. I'm pretty sure there's more, I just can't remember them

- had sex in the rain and yes, it just as wonderful as you expect it to be

- had sex in the in-laws bed

- had sex with two different people in 24 hours

- had sex with my best friend's ex

- had many one-night-stands

- done it with an older man

- masturbated on a semi-empty airplane somewhere over the Pacific

- done it with a few mechanics, a tattoo artist, a fruit inspector, a snowboard designer, a pro skateboarder, a musician, a PR man, and a few others with various talents

- had anal sex and enjoyed it

- had oral sex and enjoyed it, obviously

- had my ass slapped

- slapped ass

- had very rough sex as well as very romantic

- done the Walk-of-Shame many a time in the morning

- taken sexy photos and e-mailed them to someone

- had whipped cream licked off my body. It was fun, but way too sticky

- had sex on various kitchen tables, many floors, chairs, desks, in a pool (not fun), in the shower, in a bath (not fun at all - nothing romantic about it), against the wall, in a friend's child's bed while the kid was away, a music studio floor (the rubber floor caused many skin burns)

- had sex on various recreational substances which I don't ever recommend

- had balls in my mouth

- discovered that Greeks have the biggest willies

- used men for sex

- been offered a spot in an orgy but politely declined

- had a finger in my ass that didn't belong to a doctor

- had sex on the first "date", which must get Julia Allison's tight little panties in a twist. Not only have I had sex on the first date, but I have bedded a few within a couple hours of meeting.

- have gotten lucky a few times because of Facebook. I actually hooked up with a guy that I went to high school with and never, not in a million years ever thought I would sleep with him ten years later. Stupid Facebook.

- slept with two high school crushes ten years later, one because of Facebook

- used every type of lube created. Well not every type, but I must be reaching the end of the lube train soon

- used sex toys with partners and alone

- had sex with someone I love and it's definitely the best sex ever

Related posts: Sex Machine: I've never..Done That
Sex Machine: Why Guys (Sometimes) Tend To Suck In Bed
Sex Machine: Please Slap My Ass and The Top 5 Topless Movie Scenes
Nerve Confessions: I Fell In Love In A Week
Nerve Confessions: Datin' Daddy
Sex Machine: Are You A Frankfurter or A Mr. Pencil?
Nerve Confessions: Tattoos & Piercings - Plus The Top 5 Hottest Tattooed Men and Women
Nerve Confessions: Shut Up and F*ck Me
Nerve Confessions: Single and 30
Sex Machine: Toss My Salad
Nerve Confessions: Should I Stay or Should I Go?
Personals Drama: I'm Not Cupid
Date Machine: You're Not My Type
Sex Machine: The Butt Sex Bandit
Sex Machine: Hot Sex vs Bad Sex

Sex Machine: Why Women Suck in Bed

amboabe — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 14:35:00 GMT

Performance anxiety is usually something attributed to men. Men are expected to get hard in an instant, hold out for an hour uninterrupted, understand the nuances of how the clitoris, labia, g-spot, and vaginal walls all work in unison, then keep them happily moving forward towards orgasm land while the patterns of arousal gradually change as their partner gets close and closer to orgasm. On top of all that we're supposed to have thick eight-inchers capable of running so deep they'll magically put our lovers straight to sleep (paraphrasing Ice Cube). A lot of men take great pleasure in bragging about their competitive capacities, either in terms of wang size or proficiency at making vaginas gush nectar. Trying to manage all of those complex operations while subconsciously wondering just how their performance ranks in terms of skill and general "good"-ness can be enough to kill a boner before it's even out of a guy's pants.

I don't know whether or not this phenomenon of performance anxiety exists for women, but I suspect that many women are much more insecure about the way their body looks rather than with how well they're capable of "performing." I don't have a comprehensive body of knowledge from which to draw, but my anecdotal evidence has led me to the conclusion that most straight women are lousy lays. If there are strict requirements for being a "cunning linguist" as airheadgenius calls the acts of lapping a woman's mucus flaps, there must surely be an equally complex and demanding list of instructions for how to handle a penis.

For many women, it seems like the simple act of touching a man's penis should be an earth-shaking event. Once contact is made, the only remaining need is to monotonously jack the beast back and forth until the skies open up and the man turns into a quivering mess for a good 30 seconds. One of the last women I hooked up with reminded me of this fact. After vaguely grabbing my penis while we were kissing in bed, I let out an encouraging moan. Apparently this was the signal to go for broke as the woman instantly switched into fifth gear and started pistoning away as if I was seconds from coming. And without any lube.

Blowjobs also seem to be some unspoken gift that should make a man crumble in ecstasy. The sheer fact that a woman is willing to put her head in between a man's legs should be more than enough to guarantee a week's worth of gratitude. I almost never come from head. If you can imagine the act of repetitively licking away at the clit (or offering up the dread back-and-forth headwag), then transpose that to the penis and you'll get a fair comparison. Just because there's lots of nerve endings on the penis doesn't mean that variation, sensitivity, and multiple points of stimulation at differing times and different intensities aren't required to really make the act come off as something more pleasurable than a warm mouth-bath. A stunning majority of the blowjobs I've ever gotten tend towards the nob-slobbering, up-and-down variety with a ball tickle or a finger in the ass thrown in if the woman's feeling extra self-assured. It's not that having a mouth go up and down over a penis feels bad; it's nice. But it gets boring quickly.

The penis (and the surrounding neighborhood in which it resides) is a terrifically complicated organ, every bit as nuanced as the vagina. It's capable of just as intense and ecstatic highs as those that can be elucidated from a vagina, but women always seem to give men the short shrift in the sac. For a lot of women that I've been with, there was an unspoken passivity to their approach to sex. It's almost as if the most engaging part of sex for the woman is the thrill of being desired and sought after; when she finally deigns to accept a suitor she becomes supine and indulgent. She tosses her head back, gives a tepid few attempts at masturbation or oral sex, and then spreads her legs wide waiting for the man to get on with his business.

Maybe I'm protesting too much, or taking a bunch of random encounters that didn't turn into relationships to validate a general argument. Still, I see a connection between the way women are born and bred to be constantly pursued, to need the man to be the first one to call, to not make the first move, to call their peers sluts for being sexually aggressive; and the larger experiences I've had with women who are lousy in bed.

Our culture celebrates the art of the hook-up and the "great fuck." We believe in concepts like being "good in bed," but how can you be good in bed if you look at a clump of nerve endings as the secret answer to anything? Jack them, lick them, suck them, bite them, take them inside. The secret of great sex is realizing that those nerve endings are attached to an entire body filled with nerve endings, and those nerve endings report directly back to the brain, which tells the heart to beat and the blood to flow. In truth, there are no rules to being good or bad in bed. You only have to listen, and experiment, and adapt. Just like with anything else in life. Still, we've somehow kept women on this elevated pedestal historically and culturally, in which we've turned them into some kind of metaphysical acquisition of which the possessing is enough.

Previous Posts:

Date Night: All By Myself on a Saturday Night

Sex Machine: Spank My Ass

Love Machine: Infidelity or How Long Can You Go Without Cheating?

Date Night: The 45-Minute Walkout

Date Night Redux: H's Version of Our Night Out

Celebrity Confession: Who is Lauren Cohan and Why is She Hitting on Me?

Sex Machine: My First Muff Dive

Crying in Public: Remember the Cheerleaders

Sex Machine: Masturbating Upside Down

Date Night: Two Women in One Night

Nerve Confessions: Rate My Penis Size

Crying In Public: The Sichuan Night Train

Love machine: How I Date On The Internet

Sex Machine: Rate My Blowjobs

Crying in Public: My Cubicle

Sex Machine: Interviewing for position of Friend with Benefits

airheadgenius — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 19:35:00 GMT

One night stands don't cut it for me at this point. My lifestyle is not conducive and also there's a lot of ground work to do beforehand. You either have to plough through profiles or get into elaborate email exchanges, or spend time hanging out in bars. Plus, if you go through a dry spell, it's awful for a while and you feel like you're going to die from frustration, but like any addiction, the desire fades a little bit at least. A hook up leaves you wanting more, but almost inevitably the physical attraction is not matched with an emotional or intellectual attraction, hence the tendency for hook ups to be unsuitable as a partner.

Friends with benefits are more convenient since I like my sex on tap. A neighborhood FWB is the best friend of all. That way, I don't have to plan ahead, get babysitters, etc etc, all I have to do is dial up.

At some point in the next year or so, it would be pretty cool to get an actual relationship going on. A manfriend. But they are time consuming and i just don't always have the mental energy it requires. This is not to say that I am actively opposed to it, just that one is more likely to happen along rather than be orchestrated.

But I don't like to be without.

Hence the advertisement.

The applicant must be:
Reasonably good looking.
Not too flabby or shabby.
With a 6-8" penis.
A cunning linguist.
Decent conversationalist or the ability to keep quiet.
Physically strong.
Sharing none of a certain person's views on sexual conduct.
Must be friendly. Very friendly.

Please send your application listing qualifications, relevant experience and a recent photograph to airheadgenius.
There is no salary, but fringe benefits will be commensurate with experience.
First come first served.

I do not, however, require a friend like the one from this poor soul's confession:

And without further ado, it's my Daily Knob:

Got to do it really - today's offering, the magnificent Paul Newman

The obligatory back catalogue:

Real Women
Another quick pull out
Lesbian Lovers Come Out
Digits
Asymmetrical Knobbage
Cunning Linguist
Cunnilingus
Fabulous at 40
Winehouse Reveals
The Chick Facial File
Mirrors
Confession plus Daily Knob!
Abusive?
Celebrity Confessions: Boy George
Dick Trilogy Part 3
MORE dicks in my inbox
Dicks in your inbox
Read my Sodding Profile!
Nerve Confessions: Herpes
The Queen Confesses
The Arse Man Cometh
The Ass Play Chronicles
The Sandwich Blowjob Porn Connection
Bangin Ass
Deformed Dicks
Did I really dream that?
Why I don't date Celebrities
Fashionably late or just a slacker

Sex Machine: Are You A Frankfurter or A Mr. Pencil?

spjv840 — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 18:01:00 GMT

Ah, the penis. They come in all shapes and sizes. They can cause hours of entertainment, as well as hours of frustration. Some are friendly and open-minded, others are more aggressive and outspoken. Some bend at the slightest touch, while others can balance a stack of books. Love 'em or hate 'em, the penis is a mighty tool, if used correctly.

The Frisky recently had an amusing article, highlighting the Top Ten Most Common Varieties of Human Penis. Everything from the Thumbkin' ('Small and opposable, it proves remarkably useful') to The Elephant Trunk (It hangs down to the ground, which makes picking things up an impressive feati) and we can't forget the always fun, The Frankfurter ('Not too big, not too small, the standard size fits perfectly in a variety of ovens').

Fortuntely, or unfortunetly, depending on which we're talking about, I've had the pleasure of encountering each of these varities of the penii, give or take.

Da' Dumbbell - The Greek was definitely a dumbbell. It's one of those that can basically carry you around the room without the slightest bend or hint of fatique. These types can usually go for all-nighters, as well.

I've had my fair share of Mr. Pencils. I can't complain about these, because while they are slim, their length makes up for it. It reaches places the average length willy does not. They're usually attachted to men with the same body type - long and lean.

The Jalapeño Pepper is an interesting one, though the encounter I had with an Jalapeño Pepper pecker wasn't all that spicy. It wasn't so much that it was on the small side, but the guy didn't really know what to do with it, which was a shame because he was very good looking. Not to mention, he was a bit older than me (6 years), and it being my first time with a older guy by more than two years, I was really hoping for some fireworks. The Jalapeño caused no such fireworks.

The Thumbkin' is one of those dicks you just hope to never run into again. Mr. Nice Guy was definitely a Thumbkin'. The Frisky describes it as "proves remarkably useful", which I have to disagree with. There was nothing, absolutely nothing useful about this. It resembles more a frightened turtle than a man's anatomy.

Ah, the Soda Canner. Always a pleasant trip, albeit sometimes a bit painful. These wide bad boys are fat, thick and usually not too long, but they always please. This is the type of dick I imagine Bruce Willis having.

Read through the Frisky's article and share any stories, good or bad, you've had with these penis types. Also, fellas? Are you a Frankfurter or a Mr. Pencil?

Related posts: Nerve Confessions: Tattoos & Piercings - Plus The Top 5 Hottest Tattooed Men and Women
Nerve Confessions: Shut Up and F*ck Me
Celebrity Confession: Eva Mendes Had Sex in all 50 States
Nerve Confessions: Single and 30
Sex Machine: Toss My Salad, Hold the Syrup
Nerve Confessions: Should I Stay Or Should I Go?
Personals Drama: I'm Not Cupid
Date Machine: You're Not My Type
Sex Machine: The Butt Sex Bandit
Sex Machine: Hot Sex vs Bad Sex
Of Bag, Baggage and Confessions

Sex Machine: Asymmetrical Knobbage

airheadgenius — Sun, 21 Sep 2008 17:42:00 GMT

(I just spent an inordinate amount of time google searching for the right shot and got an eyeful of interesting images, but not the one I am looking for. Work with me here people...)

I met a potential something-or-other recently. A single man who was particularly attentive in other words.

Good looking in a retro geeky cool kinda way - bearded and bespectacled. Dressed in a t and jeans.
With an immediate "ewwww, this is not sexy" deal breaker.
His tackle was all stuffed down one side of his pants leaving the other side of the zipper bereft and as flat as a pancake.

No no and thrice no.

Why do some men do that? Is it comfortable? Or merely a means to showcase a biggie? Or create a biggie out of a smallie? Dunno, but it skeeves me to no end.

In tight undies, inevitably one side of the trousers is going to bulge more than the other depending whether the man dresses to the left or right. And even in shorts, unless the penis in question is remarkably well behaved, it's likely that the package won't be symmetrical, but all your bits on one side???

I can't imagine the female equivalent - both tits in one bra cup? Or is it the same as a camel toe? Do men like that by the way??

The chap in question appeared to be well endowed which is, of course, usually a plus. But the presentation distracted me and I just couldn't get past it. Or get on it, as the case may have been. Note to men though - granted the uni-package does make a small one look a little larger, but like a padded bra, it's really false advertising. And is it worth looking like a tool to showcase your sub-par penii?

Anyway, no asymmetrical knobbage for me thank you, so if that's your style, please keep it moving.

I know I am shallow. Ya needn''t hold the front page with that bit of news.

Ooooo, so who shall I pick for a knobbage conversation???

Ok, so this is Linford Christie. He is a British Olympic Athlete from the early 90s. He was famous for his speed and also famous for the fact that he wore lycra shorts and was blessed with a biggie. And his abs are nothing to sneeze at either.

The obligatory back catalogue:

The Chick Facial File

Mirrors

Confession plus Daily Knob!

Abusive?

Celebrity Confessions: Boy George

Dick Trilogy Part 3

MORE dicks in my inbox

Dicks in your inbox

Read my Sodding Profile!

Nerve Confessions: Herpes

The Queen Confesses

The Arse Man Cometh

The Ass Play Chronicles

The Sandwich Blowjob Porn Connection

Bangin Ass

Deformed Dicks

Did I really dream that?

Why I don't date Celebrities

Fashionably late or just a slacker

Personals Drama: Dick Trilogy Part ll (More dicks in my inbox)

airheadgenius — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 18:04:00 GMT

This is part ll of the dick trilogy. Check out part l here or this will make even less sense than it should.

So, the dicks kept flying in until my box was full to capacity (thanks Finbar) What struck me most was not quantity, although it was abundant, but quality. There were some fine looking penii in the crowd: long straight and girthy (ooo, new word) and nary a deformed or diseased one amongst them. What of the man behind the dick photo was the thought that kept popping into my mind. A face and body to match these delicious dicks would be nothing to sneeze at. But, let's be real, Ron Jeremy's dick is about a hundred times better looking than his face and a million times better looking than his doughy old body.

And thus an email was sent.

I picked the best of the bunch and wrote to it's owner. "I am new to this and appreciate your email, but can't take this any further without seeing what the rest of you looks like. Please send more photos".

A day of suspense passed, whilst myriad new dicks came in, and then the reply. (I must confess that at this juncture, the quality had gone down just a tad. The smoothness had gone a bit veiny. The uniform color blotchy and, sorry to the owner, but one had a distinct listing to the left. The first hit of heroin is apparently the best and maybe this is the path of sex addicts trying to recapture that perfect first time. In any case, dicks had gone down. As it were)

But I digress... He wrote: "I don't usually do this, but since you've asked here are more pictures"

GahhahahahhhhhhhhH!!!!

The man was magnificent. A 6' hard body of rippling muscle. Whilst not stunning, his face was perfectly pleasant. He looked like he could fuck for America in the next Olympics.

Gaahahahhahaha again!

Because I had no intention of ever contacting him, whether he'd been gorgeous or sporting a face like a bag o' spanners. Not because I don't do hook ups due to some arbitrary standard of morality, but because I live with children and my libido has to take a backseat to parental responsibility. It was, as asked by "Pants" the other day, somewhat of an intellectual exercise. (I use "somewhat" as a disclaimer since the intellectual element is arguable)

He remained but a beautiful beast equipped with a tremendous tool and not a thing that I could do about it. Sigh.

And there you have it ladies and gents. Maybe it was a one off, but there are gorgeous men touting their wares on adultfriendfinder. My curiosity satisfied, I went about my usual life.

Weeks passed and suddenly it occurred to me that I had not written back a "thanks but no" to the gentleman in question. His first big bold dick correspondence had been macho and confident, but on reflection, his follow up email with the requested photos had been humble and almost shy. I realised that I had accepted him on the basis of his dick (almost another one Finbar) and rejected him on the rest of his body! And how often does that happen???

I felt like crap. I had to explain. I launched adultfriendfinder and went to the sign in page. But what the fuck was my user name? Blonde something or other. English blonde something or other??? Ah, fuck it, I had no idea whatsoever. I tried to retrieve my name using my password, I was feeling badly at this point, but couldn't remember that either. I gave up.

And so, if you are reading this dear man with the big thick dick, perfect body and kind eyes, I apologise. It really was me, not you.

Read my Sodding Profile! Nerve Confessions: Herpes The Queen Confesses The Arse Man Cometh The Ass Play Chronicles The Sandwich Blowjob Porn Connection Bangin Ass Deformed Dicks Did I really dream that? Why I don't date Celebrities Fashionably late or just a slacker

Personals Drama: Dicks in your inbox, or Are romantic relationships becoming obsolete?

airheadgenius — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 03:50:00 GMT

As mentioned, I do love a good double entendre.

(Full disclosure: my regulars know this is one from the archives, but bear with me. There's a couple follow ups. A dick trilogy if you will)

I read an article in Business 2.0 about AdultFriendFinder and was somewhat surprised to find that it is one of the fastest growing online communities and ranks in the top 100 of most popular websites in the US. This I had to see.....

I created a user name. Man, that was quite a challenge given that there are SO many people on it and so few names left to choose from. All the obvious ones are gone. Forget anything with blonde in the title - the competition is fierce. Finally, I managed to think of something available, created a one line profile and - boom- I was in. Tits and dicks abound - as one would expect - complete with myriad claims of sexual prowess. A common theme seemed to be the desire to CAPITALIZE EVERYTHING and punctuate with dozens of exclaimation points. FREAKY AND HORNY!!!!!!!! for example.

Cut to the following morning. As I drank my tea and ate my cornflakes, I remembered the profile and so checked out my inbox. Hence my title. More dicks than I have ever seen at one time and certainly more than I'd seen during breakfast. A penis plethora. An abundance of appendage. Dick-a-licious (I've re-spelled him to protect his privacy) had a giant penis and a dubious shot of his bathroom floor. Note to dick photographers - get someone else to take it. You cannot do it yourself. But if you must, please clean your bathroom floor. Or trim your toenails.

I know it's a hook up site, but still, the speed at which the dicks popped up took my breath away. (Kinda rolling with the double entendre thing - sue me). My profile was not explicit. It had one line "looking for a friend" and no photo.

In amongst the profiles, I found earnest descriptions of men looking for love. Wrong site for you my love. You with your earnest smile and Kmart jacket.

So, what I am wondering is.... we all have friends, family, colleagues to hang out with. And now there's an incredibly easy way to get laid. It's like ordering in - just IM one of those big dicks and have them come right over. (Must stop with the double entendre. This is not Viz)

Are romantic relationships becoming obsolete?

Thoughts people.....

Back Catalog: Read my Sodding Profile! Nerve Confessions: Herpes The Queen Confesses The Arse Man Cometh The Ass Play Chronicles The Sandwich Blowjob Porn Connection Bangin Ass Deformed Dicks Did I really dream that? Why I don't date Celebrities Fashionably late or just a slacker

Sex Machine: The sandwich/blowjob/porn connection

airheadgenius — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 14:45:00 GMT

Amboabe cracked me up yesterday with his post. Specifically "but being good at blowjobs is kind of like saying you're good at making sandwiches. I didn't realize it was all that mysterious a process:

And thus he accidentally spawned the sandwich/blowjob/porn connection...

The English like their sandwiches as they've always had them. A chunky slice of bread with a recognizable filling from their childhood, like tuna and sweet corn. Occasionally, some really interesting ideas and flavors, like chicken and grapes, but the masses like their sandwiches to be comforting and something that their mother would've made.

The French favour quality over quantity. Really good bread with a slice of pate and a cornichon. Or maybe simply a chunk of brie.

Americans like their sandwiches large and over stuffed. At first glance, they look delicious, but on taking a bite one realises they are all show and no substance. They are too big. The flavours are bland and, if you eat a whole one, you're gonna get fat.

OK, so brace yourself for the porn connection:

English porn has that mother child thing going on too. We're all about sexy schoolgirls, cheeky window cleaners and the like. MILFs and grannies feature prominently too. The porn equivalent of comfort food.

French porn is sophisticated. They manage to resist the urge to see how many dicks they can stuff in one woman and, like their sandwiches, take the view that less is more. Sex with finesse.

In American porn, blowjobs are purely a size spectacle - the biggest penis imaginable crammed into a gaping mouth. No finesse whatsoever. And the finale? Waaaaaayyyyyyy too much mayonnaise.

(errr - move over Kinsey)

Sorry about the image. I wasn't expecting to find that when I googled sexy sandwich!

Sex Machine: Hot Sex vs Bad Sex

spjv840 — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 15:31:00 GMT

I was talking to a friend about our hottest sex adventures that we've had. Not necessarily the best sex (that's something for a different post), but the kind of sex that gets you hot just thinking back on it, the kind you don't really have all that often, spur-of-the-moment-gotta-have-you-right-now throwdown, it doesn't matter where you are sex.

I was quite pleased going through my list of hot sex experiences, since it occurred to me that I had a good list to choose from. After a bit of hmm'ing, I finally chose the time the Greek and I did it on the side of the road late one night, leaning against his truck with our pants down around our knees, going at it like horny, little rabbits. We screwed as if our life depended on it. Right before the screwing began, we were having a very serious conversation about how we should probably not see each other again, at least not to fuck each other's brains out. A couple nights before we had gotten it on on the rubber floor of his friend's recording studio and two nights before that we had hot sex for the first time after meeting at the bar.

The thing is, it was a bad (yet great) situation to begin with, thanks to the little rule of friendship about not fucking your best friend's ex. We had chemistry within the first ten minutes of meeting, but I never had plans on going home with him. Or maybe I did. Either way, every time I watched Greek athletes in the Olympics, I coudn't help but think of Greek cock and that sticky (in more ways than one) August night last year on the side of the road.

Of course, the conversation with my friend quickly turned towards bad sex experiences. It's only natural.

Thankfully, my bad sex experience list is pretty short (no pun intended), especially considering the rather long list of one night stands I accumulated to put ex-boyfriends behind me in the hopes of "moving on". The only one that really sticks out, is the bad sex I had with Mr. Nice Guy. For the most part, he was a pretty nice guy (hence, the nickname), generous, sweet and all that stuff that most women fall for, except for me. He was also incredibly short - we're talkin' my height and I'm 5'0. And he had the smallest penis I've ever seen. And by small I mean, slightly thicker than my index finger, and I have small hands.

As Gillette so gracefully put it back in the early 90's:
"Don't want no short dick man"

It was so bad, I swear, it was just like in the movies when the woman is like, "Are you going to put it in?" And the man says, "It is in." After shifting my ass a bit to get a better position to actually feel his teenie-weenie, I knew right there that, as much as he liked me, this was never, ever, not a chance in hell going to work. The worst part was that he was VERY confident with what he was given. I couldn't understand it. He would lay around completely naked with his miniscule peter just laying there looking like a frightened baby turtle and didn't even realize that I could barely look him in the eye. It sucks that he was so nice, though. Hopefully for him he'll meet a nice woman who doesn't care about size, just the motion of the ocean and in his case, there wasn't a wave in sight.

What are some of your hot sex and bad sex experiences? What do you do when faced with a willy the size of a toothpick?

Celebrity Confession: David Duchovny is a Sex Addict

spjv840 — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 14:10:00 GMT

Duchovny, most known for his role as Fox Mulder on the X-Files (perhaps we'll see the XXX-Files soon?), has confessed to being a sex addict and is seeking help.

"I have voluntarily entered a facility for the treatment of sex addiction. I ask for respect and privacy for my wife and children as we deal with this situation as a family," the actor said in a statement released by his attorney.

That's what we call irony. Duchovny won a Golden Globe award for portraying a sex-obsessed womanizer on Showtime’s Californication earlier this year.

So, I'm wondering how long it will take until other men follow suit in hopes of avoiding divorces and fights with significant others, and join the "sex addict rehab club". I can see it now.

"I'm sorry, honey. You know I have a problem, but your sister has those tits and ass and the long hair and you know how I love long hair and well, I tried, I really tried to control myself, but I forgot my meds at home and well, you know I have a problem. You knew this when we got together." [Via E! Online]

Sex Machine: did I really dream that?

airheadgenius — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 12:36:00 GMT

Last night I dreamt about my boyfriend from when I lived in London.

He's my "one that got away" as, with hindsight and perhaps some better management at the time, I could have held onto him.

It would have been worth it. He was, and indeed probably still is, highly intelligent, creative, handsome and funny. And, surely the icing on the cake, minted with an inheritance and a family with Lord and Lady in their title. (Glossary: minted=loaded in English English)

Anyway, last night I dreamt vividly about his dick.

In real life it was a nice 7" specimen and he wielded it pretty well.

In my dream, it was massive. Like 12" massive and fat. Can't guess the circumference, not being a gay male and all, but as fat as a...wracks brain for fat thing...I want to say marrow, but you don't have marrows here. As fat as an egg plant maybe. Two hands fingers to thumbs. Is this clear???

A biggie.

But more than that-- It was mechanical. And green. And disembodied and standing in front of me on the kitchen table. No joke.

My ex boyfriend's giant disembodied mechanical green phallus.

Must eat cheese late at night less or get laid more. Yikes, there's a nasty connection there if you ponder it.