Monday, October 31, 2011

Vampires by Sigmund Whiplash

Males vampires are sexy and dangerous, they take the liquid of life directly from a living body.
Look at the woman in the picture, that's what she's doing, hungrily sucking a cock drawing the life of the man into herself. It's been my good fortune to know some very hungry women. It always struck me as odd that they could love cocksucking so much and be so satisfied. After all, I'm not returning the favor, when I'm getting blown I just stay still and let her drink her fill. Is this why women love the vampire myth? A vampire at their throat, a most vulnerable spot easily pierced by teeth like a cock. Women let the vampire suckle them, they surrender, they are still, they wait and feel the pleasure of being drained, and then expire in a wave of ecstasy. The French call orgasm the little death, "la petite mort", vampires give "la grande mort". Women like to give and vampires take all they can possibly give. The cunt of a woman in that state must gush like a faucet.
Picture from libraryvixen
Text by Snidely Whiplash
Muse by the spirit of womanhood

Mae West




Creepy Halloween Special

This website is the brainchild of a very disturbed teenage girl, this ain't Sabrina the Teenage Witch or Buffy the Vampire this is the real nightmare of a real girl.

http://junkies.tumblr.com/

Happy Poker

Holy Moly, what's that hard thing poking at me?

via Fortune Cookie

Sunday, October 30, 2011

[Insert Obvious Caption Here]

For Just a Dime - Carny and its Inspiration


It’s been awhile since I’ve posted here. I was busy through October writing a serial for the season. If you haven’t checked out Carny, I’d be honored if you would give it a look. It's set in 1961 and draws on many of the elements that have influenced my work in the past, as well as Drake’s recent readings in carnival history and lore. It features sexually ambivalent demigods, a stage magician who may be the real thing, the real devil, and enough sex to keep things lively. I wrote one chapter for each day of the month and it tracks a small carnival as it travels through an increasingly mythic world.
There are some great books about spooky carnivals. Jack Finney’s The Circus of Dr. Lao is perhaps the earliest of them - a ribald, cynical story of the effect a carnival of real miracles produces on a small town. The film that was made from it in the 1960s is a much gentler, but still entertaining tale. Ray Bradbury wrote what is probably the ultimate spook carnival story in his novel Something Wicked This Way Comes, and any exploration of the subject will always be in that wonderful book’s shadow. So I felt a little bold even trying to weave an erotic, fantastic narrative, though I had great fun doing it.

One little-known historical event in October 1961 also helped inspire the story. On October 30, the Soviet Union exploded “Tsar Bomba,” the king of bombs, the largest manmade explosion ever. There is a video that shows the eerie, awful beauty of the explosion that fed my imagination. I also spent some time looking back at contemporary American newspapers in the days leading up to the test. I think it’s difficult today to realize, even for people who are old enough to remember, just how near the world seemed to apocalypse in that era. The bomb and the fear it caused made a perfect villain for my little fable of societal liberation.

All of this makes Carny sound like a heavier story than it is. I’ll keep all 31 chapters up on my blog for awhile and I hope you will read and enjoy it!

It won’t even cost you a dime…and I guarantee it’s all true. Just step this way…

Happy Halloween ya all!

Go fuck yourself haha!

via Swallow The Beats Whole

Smile!

I'd like to give her a shot...

via Everyday Accentuated

Childhood

Looks like my childhood but the girl was a cheater as I cheated on her also... Young people never learn.

via Complex

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Peaches

I've only experienced Peaches sized breasts but I have longed for Oranges, Balloons and Blockbusters, that's my quest, but of course it will probably go unfulfilled. Oh well...

via Big Gentleman

Whoppers!

Looking at her hands and huge tits they are ten times the size, wow!

via Twiggy Master

Costume


It's usually a Japanese boy wearing these elaborate costumes. Trick or Treat, baby!

I feel pretty , oh SO pretty

Saturday is upon us and I have nothing to wear...

via Panchous Beach

Thursday, October 27, 2011

The Good Old Days



More Bruce Timm


Gare du Nord?

Reminds me of Gare Du Nord
I've been to most of Europe and been in Paris a few times but never saw that, maybe I'm just unlucky?

via Mr Djian

Cum Grrl

Is there a trans girl out there with better tits a better body than Allanah Starr? She bends in ALL the right places and I’d kill puppies for the opportunity to nibble her foreskin. I would.

via KatrinaCDPrincess

Word

I'd probably just moan...

via Cum For Daddy

Writer's Assistant

Man, I need some assistance, too!

via Porn Lovers Porn Clips

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Grace Jones


Nude By Bruce Timm



Big Bucks

Ladies into mucho dinero haha!

via Dirty Little Tranny

These Boots Were Meant For Walking


Back in the 1960s when I used to visit whores many times I was solicited by one who wore boots just like that. Boy, was I hard! I expected that she would take them off but she shook her head and said, "Hey, I ain't got all night, buddy." I was in her in a moment, with those luscious boots around me. Six, seven humps and BAM! ejaculation. Wow, that was fast! I never saw her again and boy did I look, jerking off many times. Life is like that, you get what you don't ask for and never mind what you're really want...And one day these boots are gonna walk all over you.

via Lucifer's Cum Hole
via read about my 100 Whores

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Jan Saudek - Maria, 1972



Jan Saudek - Maria, 1972

Helmut Newton: Self-Portrait with Wife and Models



Helmut Newton: Self-Portrait with Wife and Models, Vogue Studios, Paris, 1980.

Denied Licks


He likes me on my knees, leaning back so he can see my eyes.
I'm the perfect height for him coming eye to eye with his cock.
I love it here pleasing him. He knows how much I crave
it, how wet I get waiting anxiously for the first taste. I know he likes
teasing me here. And he can be cruel. Stroking himself and denying me.
He can see it in my eyes, see me instinctively licking my lips...waiting.
My palms resting on my thighs, he doesn't need to bind me, he knows
I will keep them there until he orders otherwise. I have a strong will and
I won't move, won't disappoint him. His first drops are right there, so close,
just a lick away but I wait. Denied. I watch them drop to the floor and the
disappointed sigh escapes me before I can stop it. I know he heard it
when he laughs. He knows how much I hate to see any drop of him
go to waste. It's a privilege to taste him, have him and fill me up. I want
it all. Greedy hungry whore that I am, I want all of him in me.

More drops escape and I tense up. More drops and he brushes his cock
against my lips leaving a trace of himself. Letting me taste just a little.
My body is still but tense.I want to touch him, I want to touch me.
My breath is quick and my mind is screaming, "I want! I want!"
and the begging starts. Quietly, simply at first, "please."
"Please. Please. Please." The only words I can manage to get out.
The begging in my eyes says more than any words could.

He grabs a handful of hair and pulls my head back more. "No."
Only one word and still it reaches into me. Frustrates me. Excites me.
Feeds me. My need arouses him more. He's not going to give today,
I can feel it, I'm resigned to it. So I wait for the hot spray of cum,
still tense, still wet, still excited. If he let me touch, I would erupt in an instant with him.

He pushes me back onto the floor and releases over me, cum hitting my face,
my chest, sliding around my neck like a collar. He smiles pleased with his
volume, his artwork and my restraint. He takes his finger and guides his cum
from my cheek and chin into my mouth, letting me taste, letting me lick, making me soft and smiley again.

Lick, Lick, Lick...

I'd lick all off, that's for sure...slurpppp

via Have Curves

The Big Penis Book

Pamela Anderson has some interesting reading to do

via Dirty Little Trannie

Boobs

Looks like her titties are pasted on... Easy on, easy off.

via Thick Wife

Monday, October 24, 2011

Heroes of the Revolution R Crumb

My God, he had a gift for turning the average ordinary woman into an erotic masterpiece. Deep in the soul of woman is a filthy whore dying to be "ridden hard and put away wet" not merely wet,  limp and sodden as a newspaper left in the rain. He saw the truth of her and showed her to us all. Look at the guys cock too, that is one sturdy mother fucker (two words) it might be a bit much for a woman that hasn't been stretched a bit or maybe one who wants to be and enjoys the pain.
Picture from http://biblioklept.org/
Text By Snidely Whiplash
Muse by Mister Christian and his Bode post

Day of Reckoning

Greetings to all the fans of this blog.

I was recently invited to join. I'm a Canadian erotic writer, reviewer & writer of diverse rants.

I thought I would start by posting this short piece from several years ago as a free story (because it's probably unpublishable, *g*).

This is a cautionary tale about the imaginary consequences of sexual hypocrisy and tax evasion.

- Jean Roberta

:D :D :D :D :D :D

Reva New hummed to herself as she laced herself into her black satin Merry Widow. She made sure her pencil, pen and calculator were in their usual place in the hidden pocket. She hesitated for a moment over her accessories: flogger, cane or whip? Definitely the whip; it looked more convincing as an emblem of office. She pulled on her supple, thigh-high leather boots and was almost ready to start the day. A quick slug of her favourite scotch ensured that her breath would smell of booze, and a slash of blood-red lipstick ensured that her cruel smile would be noticed.

Reva dialled her partner’s cell phone. “Swish? You ready to go? Good boy.”

Within minutes, two government cars pulled into the parking lot behind the office of Family Values Real Estate. Stepping out of her car, Reva smiled at the sight of Swish emerging from his with a subtle wiggle and a flick of the wrist. He was wearing his hot-pink shirt with the calypso ruffles and the spandex pants that matched his skin and showed his equipment to advantage. He was a drama queen with such a disarming manner that the subjects of investigation were usually defenceless by the time Reva moved in for the kill. She loved working with Swish.

He flung open the office door, startling the receptionist. “Swish Gaylord,” he announced, flashing his badge. “I’m here to see Mr. Values.” He smirked. “I need to ask him –“ he looked meaningfully at the pale receptionist, “a few questions.”

Reva stood menacingly beside Swish. “Reva New,” she barked. “Special Forces Unit, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. You may call me Mistress. I need to see Mrs. Values immediately.” She stroked her whip, and stared hypnotically into the eyes of the terrified receptionist. “And I’ll need to see those books.”

“No,” gasped the young woman. She had heard of Reva and Swish. She lunged desperately for something under her desk, blonde hair flying. In a few swift moves, Reva had her in a headlock which somehow required Reva’s long red fingernails to pinch one of the receptionist’s nipples to keep her from getting away. “Mistress!” screamed the blonde, gazing into Reva’s unfathomably dark, government-appointed eyes. “You’ve corrupted me. I’ll-I’ll never be an honest woman again.”

Reva snickered without mirth; she was an accountant to her boot-heels. “You never were, honey,” she sneered. “We’re onto you and your crooked bosses. And I’ll take that file,” she ordered, snatching it from the trembling girl who was now thoroughly infected with an urge to masturbate.

“What’s going on here?” demanded Weasley Values, Conservative city councillor for Whitewash North in the newly-formed Canadian province of Up Here. He was a fat pink man with guilt in his eyes.

“Ooh, I want him, darling,” cooed Swish to Reva.

“He’s yours, baby,” she purred back. “Right after I read the evidence. Weasley Values, did you make these comments to the press?” She tugged a crumpled section of newspaper from between her breasts, stroked it open and read aloud:

“The taxpayers of Whitewash won’t stand for foreign perversion from Down There in our town. I speak for the whole community when I say that our hotels will not be used for ‘workshops’ for deviants and our streets will not be filled with psychopaths who claim to have ‘gay pride.’ We need to protect our young by kicking out bad elements and raising the age of consent to thirty-five.”

Reva paused for effect, and the sounds of pussy-pumping and deep moans from the receptionist in the corner echoed off the walls. Weasley swelled and stiffened in disapproval.

Reva resumed. “I call on the Mayor and the other members of city council to prevent our valuable tax dollars from being misused and our public spaces from being defiled. I call on the people of Whitewash to declare our fair city a sex-free zone.” Weasley looked defiant.

“Did you say this, councillor?” demanded Reva. Swish was blowing him kisses.

“Every word!” declared Weasley, breathing loudly. His own rhetoric always excited him.

“Then I have no choice,” she taunted him, “but to conduct an audit. You’re going to be exposed, councillor.”

A shriek from behind the sweating Weasley announced the presence of his wife Chastity. “You can’t!” she screamed. “You’re feds! You’re supposed to be on our side!”

Reva peeled the grey flannel suit off the indignant woman with her eyes. “Not any more, sweetheart,” she sneered. “We have information that homophobic, anti-porn politicians are usually hiding their own dirty little secrets. You’ve been holding out on us, fellow-Canadians, but we’ll get you in the end.”

Swish was trying to investigate Weasley’s oversized butt by removing his pants. Weasley wiggled flirtatiously, trying to hide behind Chastity, who was trying to stuff a file into the depths of her cleavage.

Crack! Reva’s whip sang through the air and tore the file out of Chastity’s slippery hands, scattering papers on the floor. Not having a leg to stand on, the Values sank to their knees before the government agents.

“Spare us, your Fiscal Majesties,” begged the partners in white-collar crime.

“Never,” gloated Swish, “until you’ve come clean. A bubble bath and an enema should do the trick.”

“And Chastity, my dear,” gloated Reva, “you’ll eat your words about dykes in high places.” She showed a sodden wad of crumpled newspaper between her ferociously white teeth.

The suspects spilled the goods, as suspects always will under the right pressure. Reva and Swish proved, once again, that neither the shocking invasion of citizens’ lives nor federal intervention into sensitive local issues was limited to the government of Down There. The general ambience of Whitewash North was revealed to be as horny as a moose in heat and as entertaining as an equestrian Musical Ride.

The spread of depravity proceeded like a spring thaw until the natural features of Up Here were completely uncovered. Fortunately, none of the residents seemed adversely affected.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

More Vaughn Bode


Anytime, Baby...

via Human Error

I Could Use A Bite

via +666+

Boys Will Be Girls

Nice abdominals on the middle boy/girl

via Miointimo

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Heinrich Kley


Timothy Bloom - 'Til The End Of Time

'Til The End Of Time - Timothy Bloom ft. V from naijanedu.com on Vimeo.

Amos Lassen Reviews


Dementiuk, Mykola. “On the Prowl”. Sizzler Editions, 2011.

Dark and Gay

Amos Lassen

I must confess that reading Mick Dementiuk is one of my guilty pleasures. I am not a great fan of erotica but Dementiuk’s approach to it is literary and aside from being a good writer who tells a good story, he seems to know what I want to read.

Dementiuk’s latest work is a novella or a novelette if you prefer that term. “On the Prowl” is a dark look at gay life in New York City and if you like sex and adventure this is a book for you. The characters are just looking for a good time and we are with them on their hunt. From what I have read from others, the spirit and the sleaze of the gay sexual underground is perfectly captured and while gender-bending is not new to Dementiuk, he really excels with his characters this time.

This is not a book for a prude, to be sure. There is a lot of graphic sex and there is drug use. But, hey, that’s what makes the whole scene, underground. This is a strong contrast from the sweet gay romantic stories that fill the market. I found neither sweetness nor romance here—this is sex for sex. As much as we may not like this kind of sex, this is how it is for some. With his Times Square stories, we see a kind of gay life that really can only exist is large metropolitan centers. The stories are all “dirty” (for lack of a better word) but they are also very real. Dementiuk captures the reality of underground sex with aplomb and if you have never read him, you should. He will open your eyes to a scene most of us know nothing about.

via Amos Lassen
vi Sizzler Editions

Yoga for Perverts

This is personal, but please indulge me, this is an email to a dear friend, an extraordinarily giving and submissive woman. We are currently long distance but have lots of plans (Fuck... do we ever).
She is very suggestible and we  think she may be able to orgasm on command with some practice.
Here is the post about the yoga pose if you want to refer back waxing

"When we were talking about the one pull wax, we hit upon the idea that the arched back yoga pose would aid in getting your head sexually into the right place.

There is a pose that we'll need when I'll order you to orgasm without touching you.
You'll be on your knees, very close to me.
I'll be standing, really towering over you with my cock in your face and you'll need to tip your head back quite a bit to look up past it so you can see my eyes and hear my command.

I'll have worked you hard, you'll be satisfied and more. I'll have held back my own orgasm and you will be desperate to share my release and feel my hot cum shower your face.

I'll tell you I can't come until you reach deep inside yourself, prove you will do anything for me and make yourself come

You'll be able to do it and I will give you your reward"

Pic from  libraryvixen
Text by yours truly, Snidely Whiplash

Rainy Afternoon

Reminds me a story in my "100 Whores"

Rainy afternoon

On a rainy afternoon I told the regular lunch crowd that I had things to do and with sly looks at each other I went off to 3rd avenue, a few blocks away.

It didn’t take long before I saw a whore coming umbrella-less up the street. The rain had increased but she walked unconcerned, letting the rivulets stream on her body and dress, which was plastered to her. I was hard before she came near me.

“Goin’ out, sister?” I asked from under my umbrella.

She looked at me and faintly smiled and shrugged, “Guess so, I don’t care. Where to?”

I said, “There’s a hotel down the street, let’s go there.”

She thought about that and said, “Neah, let’s do it in the rain, ok?”

I looked at her a bit puzzled when she said, “Take it or leave it, it’s up to you.”

But what could I do, I was already drenched as she was too. “Ok, but where? Can’t do it in the street, you know.”

The heavy rain beat down her face but she smirked and shrugged.

“Why not?” she asked, smirking. “Let’s go to the roof; I like it very much up there up there.”

I thought she was joking but she wasn’t. We entered a 3rd avenue building and went upstairs. Normally the sight of a woman’s legs will arouse me but the drip dripping off of her as we climbed gave me a different kind of arousal. It was like she was melting and only the freshness and wetness could revive her. I was pretty stiff climbing up after her.

But we were on the roof in no time, the heavy clouds and the darkness only intensified what we were feeling….Too bad there wasn’t any thunder and lightening….

It was fast, but well worth it, and I didn’t go for back to work, guess I had enough; I got fired a few days later anyway.

via Koofteh
via 100 Whores

Party Time!


via The Gay Gatsby

Ugly Shoes

Birds gotta fly, sluts gotta fuck, lovers gotta love, and shoe whores gotta get the cute shoes on the sale rack at Saks Fifth Ave.

via Lustful Kitty

Saturday, October 22, 2011

On The Prowl


My new e-book "On The Prowl" came out yesterday...

Take a walk on the wide side with this brand-new novelette by Mykola Dementiuk, the Lambda Award winner for Best Bisexual Fiction for Times Square! If you like your queer erotica with a taste of the darker parts of life in the Big Apple, then this is a book that will stay with you for a long-long time. An sexual adventure with a large dash of Latino spice, ON THE PROWL is packed with wild, gender-bending characters looking for a good time ... and something more. Susie Bright says Mylola Dementiuk's Times Square stories capture perfectly "the day when Times Square was all about sex, drugs, and cold spit ... the just-burgeoning hardcore movie houses and girlie shows of Times Square in the 1960s. It's... vivid. Harsh, real, and yes, erotic, in a stomach-churning way. Genuine whoreporn from a time when things were not talked about, at all, in the twilight zone." Book reviews by Crystal describes the Times Square stories as, "Dirty, naughty and very real."


Ah, Silk


To me, it's wear 'em if you like 'em and I simply adored 'em ;)

via Lingerie Men

Friday, October 21, 2011

Gene By Ralph Greco, Jr.

Gene


Gene, Say It Isn’t So!
See, now I’m pissed-off….really pissed off.
Gene Simmons is getting married.
I’m not pissed that the Kiss businessman is getting hitched to the seemingly sweet Shannon Tweed, but I am that he feels-or has been browbeaten to feel-that he has to see a shrink to change his “evil ways”, has to grow-up at his age (whatever the fuck that means) and needs to excuse the fact that he has never been and really doesn’t want to be, married. Well, sorry to say, men who don’t want to get married, people who spit anti-Jewish sentiments, folks who don’t like our President because he’s black; we are allowed our opinions and behaviors. You might not want to associate with people who give those opinions or conduct their life in a way anathema to you, but last I checked this is fucking America and Gene Simmons doesn’t have to like to shop, he can like walking in to and out of premiers and clubs with hot women on his arm, and after 28 years of not being so, be scared shitless that he is about to be married!
Once again here is another man being grilled by his mate/mommy about his behavior (my real mom never grills me like this and she’s about the only one I’d ever let do so) on yet another insidious American media display to further emasculate the American male. The entire last season (and the beginning of this new one) of A&E’s “Gene Simmons Family Jewels” show (a show G.S. has a definite hand in) is about the upcoming wedding of Shannon and Gene and-surprise surprise-Gene’s long road getting to it. Seeing his judgmental therapist, Dr. Ann Wexler, having his spoiled kids gang-up on him and having Shannon’s sister Tracy even parlay her two cents into the mess the bullshit here is really thick!
What I love about this all is that all these people who surround the Kiss bassist ignore where they are living and how well they are living because of Gene being Gene. And yes Gene has missed some family outings because of his job, he doesn’t deny it, but like it or not, the dude is a mega rock star. I know Shannon is upset about not being married, about Gene not wanting to answer to anyone, but last I checked that’s what we all want…to be free. It’s shows like this one on A&E (this is the same channel showing people living in houses overrun by their stuff-“Hoarders”-who and are often times court ordered to clean-up, fucking court ordered!?-or get out.)
What Gene’s therapist is all about, what A&E wants and watch it kiddies, even that man who is your President and the corporations he works for are after, is to get us all thinking/acting/walking and talking the same.  A controlled Gene Simmons is a happy Gene Simmons Shannon and her therapist-even Gene now-would have us believe as is a controlled populace...or our politicians want you to believe. If you don’t think all this is connected then enjoy your marriage, your life and your T.V. time my little droogs.

Lost In The Paper

Hmm, and ignoring what's hot...

via Mewls

Organic Farming


via Koofteh