frequently felt*

Who Wears Short Skirts?

2012-02-01T00:48:00.000-08:00

Gordon Tenney for Life Magazine. Detroit, September 1956.

I've seen this photo before but never knew when it was taken, 1956. Wow, certainly was ahead of his time, that's for sure.

via Ms. Pussy le Queer

Needle Work

2012-02-01T00:43:00.000-08:00

via Fat Montana

Mannekin Pis

2012-02-01T00:35:00.000-08:00

Statue of a little boy pissing in Brussles is cute but a grown man doing the same, well...

via Wiki
via Zenfancy

Photo by George Anastasakos

2012-01-31T12:11:00.000-08:00

Debbie Thinks She Needs A Bra

2012-01-31T09:40:00.001-08:00

Decisions

2012-01-31T05:51:00.000-08:00

You hear me unbuckle my belt

Do I need it?

You certainly do

But maybe first, I'll use you like a little boy

and make you cry like a little girl

"Wasn't it Shakespeare who said? How can I hurt you, let me count the ways"

"No answer, oh silly me, you are gagged, just nod your head"

I'll remove that bit of cloth ,maybe later try something different to make you gag and nod your head

"my you are wet, you have been letting your mind wander, I distinctly remember telling you to think about what you've done"

"I said nothing about entertaining yourself with little girl fantasies of what I'll do to you"

well that settles it, it is to be the belt, but not just a few quick love taps on that firm ass, that will just encourage you, you need to learn to obey

" Fun and games isn't all fun and games"

no, I have lots of time and thighs and cunt are much more tender

"Count the strokes, backward from one hundred, if you get to one, I'll untie you, fuck you, come in you, then let you cry yourself to sleep in my arms"

"If you lose count, you can rest awhile and we'll start over, I'm a very patient man"

Pic from thestrongsubmissive.tumblr

Text by yours truly Snidely Whiplash

Lovely Panties

2012-01-31T00:43:00.000-08:00

Well, at least there's room to breathe...

via Film Noir

Play Time

2012-01-31T00:40:00.000-08:00

via Double-DDelightful

Now For Some Advice

2012-01-31T00:34:00.000-08:00

Found this advice to ladies:

Any girls out there ever been able to lick their own pussy? When I do this position, and keep going, my knees can squeeze the side of my head and I get SO CLOSE. If I had a dick, I would totally be able to suck myself off.

Must be a lot of bending over

via Ms. Savannah Sly

Moods

2012-01-31T00:27:00.000-08:00

Erections, erections, erections, one day you're up...one day you're down. What can you do? Keep jerking, that's the answer ;)

via Danish Principal

Wheee!

2012-01-30T10:35:00.000-08:00

Kisser, A Masculine Femininity

2012-01-30T01:10:00.000-08:00

Just received my new cover for Kisser, A Masculine Femininity, soon to be released novella from JMS Books, about a young man learning what love can really be, affection, caring, sincerity, well...plain and simple Love. We seek it every single day, but if we find it do we recognize it for what it is?

Oldster

2012-01-30T00:40:00.000-08:00

Andrés Serrano - The Kiss. 1996

Sagging but still after the good stuff ;)

via And Who By Fire?

Pay Attention!

2012-01-30T00:35:00.000-08:00

A course in Vladimir Nabokov. Well, it’s educational, I suppose…

via Eroticism & Literature

Floating Tits

2012-01-30T00:31:00.000-08:00

Lovely botanical garden

via The Storeroom

Dalí ... Showing Off

2012-01-29T15:11:00.000-08:00

Dalí in France. 1967. by Robert Whitaker

Call For Submissions: Coming Together - Arm in Arm in Arm...

2012-01-29T11:38:00.000-08:00

Coming Together: Arm in Arm in Arm... is a collection of erotic fiction with a tentacle sex theme edited by Nobilis Reed. All proceeds benefit Oceana, the largest international organization working solely to protect the world’s oceans.

THE EDITOR'S CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

Tentacle sex celebrates helplessness in the face of ravenous, remorseless, undeniable lust. I want to see stories with characters, settings, and plots. People change. The world is revealed. Things happen. They don't have to be deep, but they have to be there.

I want to see stories that stretch the boundaries of what defines tentacle porn. "Demon appears out of nowhere and rapes unsuspecting victim" is boring. Even hentai anime isn't doing that anymore. Give me more than that.

Stories set in any time period, setting, or sub-genre are fine. Any flavor of speculative fiction is fair game, and if you can figure out a way to do it with a contemporary setting, I'm good with that too!

I like funny stories, sad stories, angry stories, and thoughtful stories. You can read some of my stories to get an idea of what I like; "In Her Arms" is free on DeviantArt plus there is the "Tentacle Dreams" anthology and "Incursion at Gene Bunker Four." I don't want to see a lack of exploration. I don't want vignettes that have no context or emotional foundation. I also don't want to see stories that don't deliver on their promises.

Stories should be between 2,500 and 7,500 words. Exceptions will be made for outstanding stories. Previously published work is acceptable, but make sure that your right to submit the story for publication is clear.

Please submit .RTF or .ODT (open office) documents to authornobilis@gmail.com (cc: tentacle@eroticanthology.com) with "Submission for Coming Together: Arm in Arm in Arm" in the subject line. Questions can be sent to the same address.

This is a charity anthology, there will be no payment to the author or editor. Instead, all proceeds will benefit Oceana, the largest international organization working solely to protect the world’s oceans.

Learn about them at http://oceana.org

Excerpt From Power Play By Chellesie B Dancer

2012-01-29T11:32:00.000-08:00

Here's a wonderful treat: an excerpt from the wonderful (and very sexy) Chellesie B. Dancer's new novel Power Play. Enjoy!

Sergio Davis needs to make partner in the ad firm before he turns thirty, and his last chance is getting a huge new account with an underwear magnate. He's focused all his time and energy on this presentation, until he meets a beautiful woman in the parking garage.

Liz is an heiress, hugely successful in business, but not so successful in her relationships. She wants a man who finds her attractive for herself, not her money. She encounters an artistic and sexy man who takes control and that triggers a submissive reaction in her. Realizing he’s enamored of her without knowing who she is, she sets up a seduction in the conference room where he’s scheduled to make his presentation to her.

The attraction heightens, and Liz teases Sergio until he turns dominant. Once he discovers who she is, he plots his payback, controlling her body, her emotions, and her sexual pleasure. After a glorious night of sensational sex, the real control battle begins. Who will end up on top during the day, and during the night?

Reader Alert! : As payback for seducing him at work, this hot young man takes control of this sexy CEO’s body, her emotions, and her sexual pleasure. He ties her up and seduces her through every room in her house and outdoors too. She’s bound to enjoy it, wouldn’t you?

To My Readers: I wondered what kind of woman could seduce a man to risk his hard-won career to be with her. What if there was the danger of them being discovered any minute? I thought it would be fun to see how he’d plan his payback. What would he do if he had complete control over her for a night?

About the Author: Chellesie B. Dancer enjoys writing contemporary, historical, and erotic love stories with a sprinkling of comedy. The women in her books dare to ask for their desires, so they truly will be satisfied ever after. Be careful what you wish for...
Chellesie lives on top of a hill overlooking the smog of sunny Southern California. Other than writing, she entertains at parties as an M.C., a clown, and occasionally a dancing gorilla. She’s the mother of three beautiful boys and an assortment of other critters. Luckily her husband cooks!

Power Play

Chellesie B Dancer

No way he’d fail this time, Sergio thought as he pulled into the parking garage an hour early. After years of honing his competitive edge, he wouldn’t go soft again. He locked his burgundy Civic, flipped the keys into his pocket and slung his suit coat over a shoulder. With his other accounts sacrificed to his coworkers, nothing could distract him from nailing this presentation and finally making partner, just in time.
Heading to the elevator, he saw a profile in the dim light–the silhouette of her flirty dress, her Grecian nose, and her high cheek bones set against the harsh light behind her. Poetic.
She turned and caught him staring. “Did I forget to put on clothes?”
The amusement in her voice stirred him back into motion. As he neared, he saw long strawberry-blond hair and caught his breath. A gorgeous figure and a red-head too? Damn! “Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. I was just captivated by the classic lines of your face… and, uh, dress. It’s just–your silhouette was so lovely against the glare of that bulb.”
She smiled. “You’re an artist.”
He shrugged. “Well, a graphic artist.”
“An artist nonetheless.” Her tone suggested she was accustomed to being correct. “Art is art.”
“I’d like to make art with you.” Damn, he didn’t mean that. Well he meant it, just didn’t mean to say it. Something about her made him to want to strip her nude and pose her in a hundred classic poses. And take her in every one of them.
“Really?” She couldn’t contain her wickedly sexy smile. “Let me guess, you paint nudes?”
Damn, was he that obvious? She watched him in anticipation. Was she flirting with him?
“No, I don’t paint nudes.” A flicker of disappointment in her eyes. “But now that you’ve suggested it, I think it’s a great idea. When are you available?”
An eyebrow raised, then her mouth tightened. “I’m a very busy woman. I’ll have to check my schedule.”
Busy how? A gorgeous woman like that, how many men did she have in her life? Brushing aside that unsettling thought, he forged ahead. He’d never met a woman who intrigued him like this, and he wasn’t gonna let her run away. “We’re all busy. Let me know when you have an opening and I’ll clear my schedule to fit you in.” After he’d said it he noticed the double entendre.
She must have gotten it, because she looked away. “It might be a while till I can find the time.”
So she wanted to play coy. That’s all right, he was determined, he’d persist till she gave in. He approached her, instinctively summoning his most authoritative voice.
“Make the time.”
Her eyes widened for a split second before hardening into slits. “Oh, do you think I do anything that a man tells me to do?”
Her scathing tone was meant to put him in his place. Instead it made him bolder. He stepped closer–too close–and that felt good. “No, of course not.” He moved again. An inch from her breasts. The electrical charge from invading her space zinged through his body. “Just anything I tell you to do.”
Her mouth fell open and her eyes got steamy. It felt as though that electrical charge from his body had surrounded her and drawn her in. She was his.
The elevator doors rumbled open behind her. As she stumbled back, he stepped forward and held them for her. She nodded her thanks, and turned. The soft turquoise fabric draped like silk over her curvy hips as she passed him, and he wanted to slide his hand along those curves. As she tapped the button, he darted a quick glance at her fingers–no ring. This was his lucky day.
She fled to the far corner, almost against the wall. He envisioned himself pressing her against that wall, lifting her skirt and taking her right here in the elevator. His cock was flooded and hard, ready to take control. He shook his head slightly, trying to get blood flow back to his brain. Think. Gotta do something. Appropriate.

Cute!

2012-01-29T09:59:00.000-08:00

Size Queens

2012-01-29T09:58:00.000-08:00

Tasty!

2012-01-29T09:57:00.000-08:00

Fiesta

2012-01-29T01:30:00.000-08:00

I've never read it but I've seen the book around. I'd love to get my hands on it...

via Mary Dear

Glug, Glug, Glug

2012-01-29T01:26:00.000-08:00

Have a drink, have a bottle, have a cock

via The Unit

Size?

2012-01-29T01:22:00.001-08:00

Size 0 or size 30, it’s in your attitude and your confidence!

I very much would like to paw that ;)

via Sex Is Liberating

Titfish

2012-01-29T01:07:00.000-08:00

Merriam-Webster Definition of TITFISH

: trepang

Origin of TITFISH

¹tit + fish; fr. the shape of its tentacles

Amazing what you find out here...like a handful

via You Can Fap To This

Ah, Better...

2012-01-28T02:14:00.000-08:00

In France they're known as Pissoir's

Urinal, A pissoir is also a French invention common in Europe that allows men to urinate in public street without the need for a bathroom while also avoiding the possibility of public urination onto buildings, sidewalks, or streets. They have become more common and some communities such as the patrons of San Francisco's Dolores Park have vocally demanded their installation. They are said to have the added benefit of freeing up regular single occupancy public bathroom toilets for women.^[1]

via Perverts of Color
via Wiki

What To Read?

2012-01-28T02:06:00.000-08:00

Great title, "The Man Who Loved Dirty Books." That would certainly keep me up late at night...and what's he doing with his other hand? Dirty, dirty....

The Man Who Loved Dirty Books is a crime novel by the American writer David Guy set in 1970s Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.^[1]

It tells the story of Matt Gregg, an ex-cop transitioning to a new career as a private detective, who is pulled down into the world of underground porn and murder.^[2]

via Leer Es Sexy
via Wiki

Biker Bra Wearer

2012-01-28T01:56:00.000-08:00

Must be the late 1960's, poster of Peter Fonda in the window and she's definitely wearing a stiff bra, an item from the late 60's, plus her boobs are sticking out too much

via Bikes, Brews, and Babes

Unexpectantly touching

2012-01-27T19:35:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, seeing what is different reminds me that we are all the same
I'm "different" too, in my way,

I long for the moment when I'm holding you down, overpowered and helpless

I'm pressing the head of my cock into your asshole and you freeze in pain and fear

Isn't it wrong to hurt a woman?

Your whimpers and tears, make me rock hard

(I hold back for a few seconds, heart pounding)

... hurt a woman I love?

Isn't it wrong that your crying makes me shake with excitement?

You don't need to say a word, I'll know, but I need your permission to go on

a tiny "please, fuck me" or " I love you" or just feeling you melt, welcoming me, not trying to escape

I'm afraid of this dark side of me

but it makes me feel so alive

and I can make you feel it too
Text by yours truly, Snidely Whiplash
Pic from swisssublover

Shh, Librarian on the Job

2012-01-27T11:45:00.000-08:00

I love this picture with her beautiful legs draped in nylon hose, I could stare at those for a long time and stare some more. Very, very nice ;)

via Librarian in Stockings

Oh Canada...

2012-01-27T01:51:00.000-08:00

via Hot Cute Sexy

Marcel Proust

2012-01-27T01:41:00.000-08:00

I read Remembrance of Things Past while in college but hardly ever did any of my assigned reading for other classes. Weird, but in that year I seemed to attract many guys and professors, too. Must of been my reading glasses.

via LeRoy's Pink Fist

All We Needed

2012-01-27T01:38:00.000-08:00

via The Naturist Rocker

Watch Out For Thorns

2012-01-27T01:34:00.000-08:00

Oh baby, a big one

via Hoolawhoop

A Pickup

2012-01-27T01:23:00.000-08:00

Those strange pickup places were divine...even if the other guy comes out the loser. Hell, there were loads of other places that hadn't been tried yet ;)

via Zenfancy

A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou

2012-01-26T17:28:00.000-08:00

Given the literary bent of Frequently Felt, probably a thick cigar and a thicker tome might feed our souls better,
The "thou" is a little thin, she needs that belly filled some of my home cooking.
( or something else filled with...that would also thicken her middle )
Personal aside, I still miss cigars after twenty five years
I was a terrible slave to nicotine (tops always make terrible slaves)
Ten cigars or fifty unfiltered cigarettes a day
Smoking women look so damn hot, too
I have to disapprove for health reasons and I need to be puritanical about some things (it's a very short list)
but it gives me a wicked thrill like a priest given a glimpse of adolescent (or younger) thigh in the front pew
The pic is from longingtobeowned , a heartbreaking tragic blog of a very kinky and very lonely girl, I wish I could help but I can't flog the whole world.

Joanna Lumley

2012-01-26T10:14:00.000-08:00

Black Tie

2012-01-26T09:58:00.000-08:00

Popclub de José Arthur cover art by Roland Topor, 1983

a little game

2012-01-26T07:48:00.000-08:00

I've told you before, he likes me on my knees.
So there I am again, happily, kneeling naked at his feet.

I stand to undress him as I've done a thousand times.
First the belt. The leather is worn and looks deceivingly soft.
We both know it's not. I place it on the bed near me, his two
favorite toys side by side and within his reach.

Shoes, socks, trousers...I pause when I start to unbutton his shirt.
It's been a good day. There is lightness in the room with us tonight.
I look him in the eyes. A smirk curls his lips. He knows this look
in my eyes. It's not the usual look of love, adoration or even fear.
My eyes are bright and playful. I can't suppress the wicked imp.
She is there in full force wanting to play. And he indulges her.
I love that about him. How he can humor me and let me have
what I want without ever letting me forget who's really in control.
I know what my role is. I'm his toy. His eager, willing, trusting fucktoy.

But now it's me who wants to play, who orders him not to move.
I slip off his shirt and slip my arms into it. It still hangs open for
him to see but I'm not as exposed as he likes to keep me.
I take my time, smelling him, touching him, moving my lips over anywhere
that I like. Teasing him with my tongue, I linger until I get a response and
stop abruptly moving on to other delicious parts. Tasting whatever pleases me,
he instinctively grabs my head and I pinch him hard. I order him again not to move.
Reprimanding him excites me. I stifle a giggle because it also scares me.
I know there will be payback but I can't help myself. I reprimand him again while
I move on to the bed in front of him. Sitting up, legs wide open for him to see
and I can feel I'm already wet. Spreading myself open more, I taunt him
with my words, asking him if he likes what he sees, asking him if he wants
to touch and more, always denying him. Taking a slick finger, I brush it over his lips, just a taste, just a tease for him and I lick it off myself. I'm happy with his response and lean in to lick that, too. Greedy. Greedy, Greedy. Sucking him while I play.

I want him as close as possible to me while I tease so I order him to his knees knowing the only time he goes to his knees is to hold me down or use me, never for servitude. I can hardly hold his stare, my stomach is in knots knowing he can end my game at any time, but I can't ignore how wet I get when he appeases me.
I order him to lick me, just a lick but he doesn't stop. It doesn't take me long to lose myself in a wave of orgasms. The moans he is forcing out of me are so loud, I never hear him pick up the belt until it hits down on my chest. He flips me over and pushes my head into the bed so fast I can barely catch my breath.
Game over. Payback will be a bitch.

I AM SCREAMING!

2012-01-26T05:37:00.000-08:00

Well, yes it does make me want to scream! Loudly! You see, it’s the third time this has happened to me -- males -- straight males, confusing me with the characters in my tales.

Have any other women writers come across this?

I write erotica. Sometimes what I write is downright, absolutely pornographic. I write to entertain, sometimes I write quite deliberately to arouse -- I write to explore what a fun thing sex can be. The games that we play; the games that we want to play, but dare not.

I hope that sometimes people laugh! Laughter is sexy!

If consolation is needed, then I hope that I console -- it’s a sad mind that thinks that you are the only person in the world, who has had strange fantasies -- sometimes what the world would see as perverted fantasies. I write for the guy who wants to be a mommy’s boy -- for the male or female who wants to be Dominated, humiliated, who suffers for the sake of the one that he or she idolises. Those who give up their right to orgasm, because their Master, or Mistress forbids it. They eat, sleep, wear clothes, defecate, urinate when they are permitted. I want to tell them that they are not weird. They don’t have to act on their dark fantasies, but they are entitled to have them.

Sometimes I write heavy stuff.

And I hope that women read my tales too. I write for them; to empower -- sexually.

One guy who wrote to me, declared himself a submissive. He wanted to be tied up, be beaten until he was “bruised and bloody”. He couldn’t possibly tell his wife, she would think he was a pervert.

So how can he tell me, a stranger, things that he would never divulge to the person he is closest to in all the world?

Sad, bad.

Do male writer’s of erotica get this? I wonder what their response would be? A gay friend, who writes gay male erotica, tells me that he’s had mails where his readers confess that they have masturbated after reading his stories. My friend’s response is: “well well”.

One New Year’s Eve, I had a cold so I decided not to join in the celebrations. I stayed in, warm and cosy. I was watching the new year arrive on television. Big Ben struck on the hour of midnight. The phone rang. A guy telling me to open my mouth, he was waiting to shove his penis in. It’s hardly poetry, is it? I was shocked and hung up. I was nervous and felt upset. Then I got to thinking, how would a man react to a dirty phone call? So I asked them -- gay and straight. Both said that they would laugh and probably be excited. So I wrote my story, “Retribution”. It’s about just that. A straight man receiving a dirty phone call from a woman. It’s in M.Christian’s anthology, “Best S&M Erotica vol.3" available at Sizzler and Amazon.

http://shop.renebooks.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=CHRISTIAN-04

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Best-Erotica-Vol-M-Christian/dp/190509163X/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1323777414&sr=1-2

I mentioned all of this to an acquaintance; his response was -- “Well, given the genre you write in, don’t you think that this sort of thing is bound to happen?”

Maybe I’m naïve, but I didn’t. The males who have contacted me come over as intelligent guys; men with refined, intellectually developed, sophisticated minds. So why, after a few emails, do they ask me ask me inappropriate questions? Very personal questions. Have I ever…? Very creepy questions.

These questions take me by surprise rather than shock me. A bit like the dirty phone call on New Year’s Eve. Questions that unsettle me rather than distress me. I feel a little bit insulted too -- but most of all, I feel very irritated.

I could name names -- I could, perhaps I should. But I’m not going to -- that would make me spiteful, and I’m not spiteful.

But I am not Ulena, or Jasmine, or Sally, or whoever the hell the FEM/dom is in my tales. They are figments of my imagination; they are not me. I create these characters, just to see if I can do it. I put them and their submissive partners in depraved situations, just to see if I can do it. Human beings have always whispered tales of the forbidden; the taboo. Those tales are a part of every culture in the world, expressing stuff we dare not speak of.

Perhaps, one day I’ll move away from erotica/pornography -- maybe I’ll write something “worthy”. Heavens, there are plenty of issues to be going along with. Racism, homophobia, xenophobia, how we treat the elderly, child abuse, animal cruelty -- the list goes on and on. Perhaps I’ll write about the cult of celebrity -- the desire that half the world has, it seems, to be famous.

Maybe I won’t -- there are more than enough writers churning out “worthy” books.

I’ve deleted my Facebook profile -- no great loss there. I was getting inappropriate comments on my “wall”.

It’s fiction for God’s sake; it’s a story.

It seems that if I want to write in the erotica genre, then I have to hide -- But I will continue to write my tales of sexual release, sensual release -- and yes, even spiritual release.

I think that my ultimate aim, as a writer of erotica, is to express erotica with words, as beautifully as Dita von Teese does in her burlesque dance. Dita dances to entertain -- She dances to arouse men -- and women too. She’s also empowering women -- to be beautiful, to take control of their sexuality. She’s telling a story, a fiction -- her dance is no more real than any of my, or any other writer’s erotic/pornographic tales.

In her dressing room, Dita von Teese takes of her wig and heavy makeup. She kicks off the killer heels -- she probably slips, very elegantly of course, into a pair of old jeans and a tee shirt. She exits through the stage door -- her adoring fans don’t even recognise her. She tip toes away gracefully into the night.

Reading

2012-01-26T01:01:00.000-08:00

To get lost in a book. To leave your world and enter a completely different one. Where anything is possible as long as you keep flipping the pages. Reading - a lost art now. Let’s bring it back, one page at a time.

via Library Porn
via Library Porn

Ah, Poor Baby

2012-01-26T00:57:00.000-08:00

Hmm, lipstick over night?

via Big Titty Treats

On The Phone

2012-01-26T00:43:00.000-08:00

Ballerina Mary Ellen Terry talking with her legs in telephone booth. Photograph by Gordon Parks, 1952.

Phone booths were always places of sex. When I was younger had a girlfriend who was always on a phone call there. She'd go in and sit down, while I went in, folding the door shut after me. Oh boy, did she know how to use her mouth! Standing there, my shoulders covering the door, who could have seen what was going on? But I heard in New York City there are practically no more phone booths left. Damn, where do kids go now?

via Cuntbarf

A Whizz

2012-01-26T00:39:00.000-08:00

When you gotta go you just gotta go... Ahhh, better, whew!

via The Whore

Ashley Wood

2012-01-25T11:29:00.000-08:00

Sexy Braille

2012-01-25T00:18:00.000-08:00

Important reading. Hey, enjoy life.

via Eroticism & Literature

Leopard Dress

2012-01-25T00:12:00.000-08:00

Had a woman one time wearing a dress like this, all I can say, "She sure was slippery..."

via Get In The Fucking Car

Ms. Awesome!

2012-01-25T00:00:00.000-08:00

Athlete Aimee Mullins

“Born without fibulae in both legs, Aimee’s medical prognosis was discouraging; she was told she would never walk, and would likely spend the rest of her life using a wheelchair. In an attempt for an outside chance at independent mobility, doctors amputated both her legs below the knee on her first birthday. The decision paid off. By age two, she had learned to walk on prosthetic legs, and spent her childhood doing the usual athletic activities of her peers: swimming, biking, softball, soccer, and skiing, always alongside “able-bodies” kids.”

And I thought I had it bad with my wheelchair she certainly gives me some inspiration.

via iiionu

Goddess

2012-01-24T15:55:00.001-08:00

Tenacious D: FUCK HER GENTLY

2012-01-24T15:55:00.000-08:00

Tenacious D Fuck her gently vostfr by WariorLite

Bunnies

2012-01-24T00:48:00.000-08:00

Four feminine people dressed as Playboy Bunnies walking down a public street, probably in the 1960s.

Man, I would have been jerking off if I saw this! And what if I saw them from the front? My erection would have destroyed me, what a sight to see, them or me haha!

via Ireensarrows

The Book

2012-01-24T00:44:00.000-08:00

Closing the book on you...more like slamming it shut!

via Sloughfoot

Lolita

2012-01-24T00:32:00.000-08:00

I was just a kid in the early 60s when this film came out and already the poster gave me some hard desires. But when I did see the movie I was confused, didn't know what the sexual hysteria was all about, there wasn't much sex shown. A hint, a tease, maybe that's what they were trying to do. I don't know, as a kid I felt cheated. The adults understood and I didn't.

via The Storeroom

Lovely

2012-01-23T13:44:00.000-08:00

Out Now: My Love Of All That Is Bizarre: The Erotic Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes Edited By M. Christian

2012-01-23T09:53:00.001-08:00

Now here's something very, very special: a collection of wonderful erotica - by some very special writers - about everyone's favorite genius detective, Sherlock Holmes: My Love Of All That Is Bizarre: The Erotic Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes - Edited By M. Christian

For all that we know about Sherlock Holmes there is much that is a complete and total mystery about him - and, as he would say himself, a that is a puzzle that should be addressed. Is it any wonder that so many of us have scratched our much-smaller craniums and pondered his relationships, trying to use his own maxim of "when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth" to peer down deep into those mysteries? This timely collection focuses on his unmentioned private life. In short, the great detective's amorous inclinations, the part of life Victorians were so silent on, but so profligate in its practice. And the authors don't stop there - you will also find stories about the sexual side of other key characters who make up the canon: Irene Adler, Mrs. Hudson, Dr. Watson, and even that most infamous of villains, Professor Moriarty. Included are many of today's most popular authors including Michael Kurland (American Book Award and the Edgar Award finalist), Angela Caperton (Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica), M. Christian (Lambda Award finalist), and such other distinguished practitioners of the short story and novelette as Cesar Sanchez Zapata, Kate Lear, Wade Heaton, Dorla Moorehouse, Ivo Benengeli, Billierosie, Zachary Jean, PM White, Violet Vernet. As Holmes himself said: "The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!"

Show Offs

2012-01-23T08:44:00.000-08:00

Mia Zarring by Leah

2012-01-23T08:43:00.000-08:00

scott-gotankgo:

Model: Mia Zarring

Mick Jagger in Drag

2012-01-23T00:42:00.000-08:00

Still looks like he'll kick your ass

via The Sassy Zebra

Men Will Be Girls

2012-01-23T00:38:00.000-08:00

via The Sassy Zebra

Must Be Tough

2012-01-23T00:34:00.000-08:00

Acrobatic blow-job

via Bloody Whore

Spanking Time

2012-01-23T00:29:00.000-08:00

Ma'am, but what did I do?

via Refined Taste In Naked Ladies

THE WHYS AND WHEREFORES OF WRITING SMUT: P.M.WHITE

2012-01-22T06:38:00.000-08:00

I was thrilled when my wonderful writer friend, P.M.White wrote this essay for my blog. P.M.White turns the matter over and over in his mind, of why he, and we all write smut. Read on!

Writers usually want to write. If not, then they like to read. If not either, they want drinks, which usually goes hand in hand with a desire to get laid. Besides the aforementioned partner, writers typically like a degree of solitude, even during the holidays.
It’s about two days after Christmas as I write this. I have no idea if I’ll be social for New Year’s. I went to one Christmas party, which is on par with the amount of revelry I experienced last year. Most of my time is spent writing, both in my day job and in my personal life. This means I like to sit in my own little world, stare at a computer screen and listen to old punk albums without saying much beyond incoherent mumbles that help further the creative process.
As I write this I’m wearing sweat pants that are a little too large for me, a white t-shirt that I slept in, and slip-on rubber shoes that I wear around the house. A space heater is usually aimed at my feet while I plunk my fingers on the keys. My hair, which I’m growing out in preparation for my mid-life crisis, has not felt a brush or comb since yesterday morning. I know there are plenty of writers who get ready before they write, but I’m not one of them. I do need coffee if it’s morning, but otherwise that's it. On occasion I need whiskey.
What I’m getting at is writers tend to be a very reclusive bunch. At my day job, I have to interview people and attend meetings before I can write. At night, or early in the morning like today, I write from a home office with only my old dog as company. So for a lot of my time, I am sequestered away with a keyboard. There’s a reason why writers spend so much time alone. Many of us are socially awkward. Or we’re made that way by our chosen profession. Either way, crowds can be scary. Even if they’re composed of friends.
Case in point is the Christmas party I attended with my girlfriend. A wonderful crowd attended the gathering – called a white elephant gift exchange/ game night/ potluck. Their were single folk, gay couples, straight couples and all in between. Everyone had a great time. My girlfriend ended up with a giant pink calculator that makes the user feel they've decreased in size by fifty percent. A number of the party-goers, including a sprinkling of the non-straight guys, lusted after that pink calculator. They also lusted after a painting I contributed to the shenanigans. It became one of the most fought-over gifts for the whole exchange.
White elephant parties, for those who don't know, means you can steal the present of someone after they have drawn their number and opened their gift. When your number comes up you can open a new gift or steal someone else's. My painting was stolen often.
Later someone suggested I was just as popular to a number of the gay men as my painting. Did they want to oil up my cock and watch it spurt? Did they want to put theirs in my mouth? Possibly, but it wasn't the thought of homo-erotic sex that makes me feel awkward socially. I write erotica. I think about sex all the time and either want to have it or I want to write it. So far I have never done both at the same time, but being hit on isn't a big deal.
As it always does, writing erotica became a conversation piece at the party for those that learned of my profession. Many thought this meant, surprise surprise, that I went down on men all the time, women as well, and probably had no problem blowing a guy while pounding a woman. While I neither confirmed nor denied my preferences, I did say it meant only that I enjoy sex and writing about it. For me, the awkwardness comes in speaking aloud, in not having any control of the next sentence that comes out of someone's mouth, of wanting to be friendly, but feeling a rock in the pit of my stomach. I often wonder if awkwardness of this sort had something to do with why Bukowski behaved like such an ass. Most writers enjoy writing because they're hermits. They don't want to be bothered by the real world. It doesn't fit with the world of their words, the world they want to be in.
As I write this, I realize that I have now shared more of myself by typing than I shared to those at the party. In words, the awkwardness all but vanishes. There, I'm ready for homo-erotic adventures and bi-sexual orgies galore, but in the real world I'm ready only for another cup of coffee. Maybe with a little Irish crème in it.

PM White is the author of ‘Horror Manor Part 1: Eyeball Man’ available through Sizzler Editions and on Amazon. His short stories have appeared in ‘Best S/M 3,’ ‘Sex in San Francisco’ and most recently in the ‘Pirate Booty’ anthology. He can be found on Facebook and here.

G-string wedding dress

2012-01-22T05:55:00.000-08:00

The G-string wedding dress that will make the whole congregation blush, never mind the bride!

Disapproving noises are often made in certain circles about church brides whose strapless dresses reveal too much.

But modern day Mary Whitehouses concerned about the occasional flash of cleavage will likely have a coronary when they see the latest bridal get-ups on offer.

The revealing wedding outfit - one can hardly call it a dress - was shown by fashion brand Kaviar Gauche at Berlin fashion week yesterday.

And judging by its risqué nature, this is one wedding outfit bound for a beach ceremony - or more likely, confined to the privacy of the wedding night.

via Daily Mail

Readers

2012-01-22T02:24:00.000-08:00

The obvious moral here: readers get laid.

Just doing my bit to promote literacy.

via Dazzledent

Poise Parlor

2012-01-22T02:16:00.000-08:00

Every man should look his best and our stylists are just waiting to get their hands on you. So you can learn how to walk, talk and sit like a lady in Mr. Peenee’s Poise Parlor.

Looking good, baby ;)

via The Hair Hall of Fame

Swans

2012-01-22T02:12:00.000-08:00

Looking like swans

via Girls With Great Asses

Fuck The Door!

2012-01-22T02:07:00.000-08:00

Ride it, girl.

That door, it had been stuck for months. Just needed some adjustment, really. A loose screw or something. But when it jammed on him today, it was too damn frustrating.

“Fuck this door!” he said, in his frustration.

She took it literally.

via Gurgle

Beautifully Weird

2012-01-21T10:23:00.001-08:00

"Cathy Cowgirl" from General Idea on Vimeo.

Bruce Timm

2012-01-21T10:21:00.000-08:00

Fundamentals of Reading

2012-01-21T02:26:00.000-08:00

Stay aware, reading gets you pussy!

via Glitter Guts

Ancient History

2012-01-21T02:22:00.000-08:00

C'mon, get it hard, ohh baby...

via Danish Principal

Barbie Time

2012-01-21T02:18:00.000-08:00

Who's next?

via Dirty Little Tranny Whore

Bend Over, Buddy

2012-01-21T02:14:00.000-08:00

Oh no, not there!

via Continuous State of Desire

Ms. Skittles

2012-01-21T01:59:00.000-08:00

Ooh, just taking another Skittles whiz

via Blood, Sex and Tears

Always start with tenderness and make sure she's tenderized later

2012-01-20T06:35:00.000-08:00

I like this picture, the opposite of open
You bound like a gift waiting to be unwrapped
Eyes closed, meditating, only contemplating how best to sate my lust

Then I'm standing over you lubing our cunt

and my giant hand up to its forearm, stroking it like a giant cock

I hold up a very tight fist, flexed, and shining

A tool of medieval torture

Hard and smooth, an oaken maul worn smooth from years of toil

I slide all my fingers in deeply

slowly twisting... I don't want to tear you

You suddenly relax

and the widest part of my hand passes the entrance

my knuckles knead the ring of muscles

I probe inside

squeezing the uterus with my fingertips

Leaning over you, using my other hand to crush your breast

and my weight to hold you in place

I close my fist inside it's too big to pull out

When I try,I lift you off the bed

and stretch your back and belly like a rack

Impaled, you understand it's true meaning now
I pump the few inches between the deepest possible penetration
and your gateway that's small to let me out

Only low moans escape your lips, your mind is soaring free in the blackness, swept away by ache and effort
Your cunt is your universe and my fist the center about which it revolves

Pic from punishmehard tumblr
Text by yours truly, Snidely Whiplash

Damn, Where Is It?

2012-01-20T03:12:00.000-08:00

Intensive looking and looking and looking...really comes down to intensive showing and showing and showing

via Synthetic Pubes

Fill 'er up?

2012-01-20T03:06:00.000-08:00

No clothes, no car but she's ready for a filling up, that's for sure

via Distorted Retina

Where Am I?

2012-01-20T03:00:00.000-08:00

Guggenheim Museum, NYC, right across the street from Central Park. What's she doing there naked on a rainy day, I'd like to know?

via Disgrace

I confess, I'm a hopeless romantic

2012-01-19T17:01:00.000-08:00

She exists to be his slut,

Dressed only in a robe, available just how he likes

She finishes her glass of wine

and falls into her big green easy chair, robe open, limp, legs spread wide

His slut

His cheap drunken slut, pussy agape, limp, head lolled back

He speaks to her cunt not her face

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

He leans in, twists a breast and pushes her hard into the chair, mauling it, leaving a hand print that will turn into a purple mark of ownership on her pale hide.

He reaches down clamps a big hand on her cunt and asks again

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

He grabs her throat with his other hand, holding her face up to his, staring into her eyes

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

He's crushing her sex in his hand now, she'll have bruises there too

Massaging it roughly, she's squirming in pain...but towards him or away?

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

He unzips his pants and pulls his cock out

He kneels on the chair and pushes it into her mouth

"Suck this, do you want me to fuck your face?"

He pulls it out and presses it between her breasts, gripping the chair back, pressing hard into her chest

"Do you want me to fuck your tits?"

"Who's pussy are you ?"

"You are my pussy, my fuck toy, my whore"

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"You ARE mine and I'm going to"

Love the picture, the subtle violence, more predator over prey than lovers from Fifi at feeling-is-first.tumblr
Text by yours truly Snidely Whiplash

(Giggle)

2012-01-19T10:56:00.000-08:00

Call For Submissions: Call for Submissions Sex in London

2012-01-19T10:19:00.000-08:00

Call for Submissions

Sex inLondon

Tales ofPleasure and Perversity in the English capital

EditedBy Elizabeth Coldwell

Ananthology of stories about what makes London such a delightfully decadent city,to be published by Sizzler Editions (http://SizzlerEditions.com ).

We are looking for stories fromnew and established authors celebrating one of the most decadent citieson earth. You can hardly think about London and not think about sex.

Writers who livein or have been to the English capital, and have experienced the passion thatsizzles beneath its stiff upper lip, are invited to explore in their storieswhat makes the city so closely associated with sex and sensuality.

Sexin London is open to submissions featuring all sexual and genderorientations. We seek stories with whatever kind of sex sums up “the Englishvice” -- from tender romance to the hardest kinkand everything in between. From the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palaceto the curry restaurants of Brick Lane, from the statue of Eros at PiccadillyCircus to the swimming ponds on Hampstead Heath. As for characters, picture thekinds of people you see as quintessential Londoners, whether born within thesound of Bow Bells or moving there to take advantage of a city whose streetsare paved with gold: duckers and divers, creative and media types, footballersand WAGS, the stallholders on Petticoat Lane, the foreign billionaires buyingup real estate in Kensington and Chelsea, students, tourists -- you name it.And don't forget atmosphere, from crisp winter mornings to those rare butunforgettable sultry summer nights, from the streets once prowled by Jack theRipper and the Krays to the coming excitement of the 2012 Olympics. Bring tolife whatever London really means to you.

Equally important are believable,intriguing characters readers can care about, a compelling situation thatdrives the storyline, and well-realized scenes where we see, smell, hear, andfeel what the characters experience of the world and people around them.

Submissionsmay be fiction or personal experience, but all submissions must be explicitlyerotic. In short, the sex shouldbe the central focus of your story and not just an incident along the way.

Storiesfeaturing incest, rape, underage characters, homophobia, bestiality, excessiveviolence, or any portrayal of excrement or urination, will not be considered.If you have questions about whether or not your story may work for thisanthology, please contact Elizabeth Coldwell elizabeth_coldwell@yahoo.co.ukwith your questions or concerns.

Bothpreviously published and original works will be considered, though originalmaterial preferred.

Storylength: 2,500 to 12,500 words

Deadlinefor Submissions: July 1, 2012

Rights:First North AmericÅan Anthology Rights

Payment:$25, paid on publication

Emailsubmissions should be sent to: elizabeth_coldwell@yahoo.co.uk - inthe subject line put Sex In London Anthology Submission. File should be in doc (not docx) orrtf format, be sureto include contact information on all attachments.

Uncle Sam Wants You!

2012-01-19T01:08:00.000-08:00

via Lingerie Men

Take Out

2012-01-19T01:05:00.000-08:00

A breast when you need it

via Torturing Myself

Nice Handful

2012-01-19T00:59:00.000-08:00

Well, two hands full

via Second 10K

Bruce Timm

2012-01-18T14:36:00.000-08:00

Have A Drink, Sweetie

2012-01-18T01:11:00.000-08:00

“Cock-tails”

via Pillow Talker

Two Bathing Suits

2012-01-18T01:01:00.000-08:00

Two Girls in Matching Bathing Suits, Coney Island, New York, 1967
Photographer: Diane Arbus

I remember my sister had a bathing suit just like that in the 1960a. I thought it was incredibly sexy and a few times whacked off into the bra. Ah man, that was hot! Diane Arbus should have taken a picture of me ;)

via Malicious Glamour

Busy Shopping

2012-01-18T00:57:00.000-08:00

Important to look right

via Collect

Bruce Timm

2012-01-17T11:16:00.000-08:00

Pam Grier

2012-01-17T11:15:00.000-08:00

Nice Dangling Jewels

2012-01-17T01:07:00.000-08:00

Hmm, nice jewelry, wonder what it feels like?

via Amber Topping

Mothers of God

2012-01-17T01:04:00.000-08:00

Sweet Jesus, I like ;)

via Sweet Junkie Boys

WTF?

2012-01-17T00:59:00.000-08:00

Is there anything quite like the feeling of electricity running up and down your dick?

That's okay, I'd rather not feel it, thank you....(Shit, I'm outta here, as fast as I can.)

via Electrically Yours

When in Rome Do As The Romans Do

2012-01-17T00:52:00.000-08:00

Sophia Loren and Jayne Mansfield, 1957

Jayne was pretty big but Sophia was certainly a looker, too

via Malicious Glamour

More Bode

2012-01-16T10:11:00.000-08:00

THE ART OF PATRICK WHITEHURST

2012-01-15T06:29:00.000-08:00

Isn’t this great? It is a real treat, that this week Patrick White comes to my blog with his exquisite paintings. Patrick’s art embraces life, with all of its joy, and its pain too. He’s a communicator; his art is sometimes precarious, I can feel myself falling. At other times Patrick lifts me up, so high that I feel dizzy. Here is what Patrick has to say about his art, and following that, you can see his paintings.

“I paint both in acrylic and in oils. Lately I have focused more on acrylics due to the quickness of the media, but intend to return to oils soon! What I find fascinating in the art I enjoy is seeing an image that tells a story. Raised on comic books, I appreciate art that explodes and smacks you in the face, but also paintings that make you feel like your seeing something dark and fantastic, something no one has seen before, or quite like how you see it. To me, that is the best kind of art. I appreciate landscape painters for their talent and for the beauty in the images, but I love the art that can not be seen in the real world. The art steeped in the soul of the artist, in passion and sorrow, intrigues me.
I mostly work on canvas, but have worked on paper and even card board and wood. Mostly I prefer the traditional canvas style. More recently I have decided to attempt a blend of my doodles with traditional painting. This has resulted in my Boris series, among other paintings. Boris has appeared in eleven paintings of mine to date. He can also be found on the Boris blog With Boris I have strived to create a character that appeals to those with a darker sense of the world, those who have embraced depression rather than hide its existence. The paintings come with letters written by Boris as an accessory to the art.
I've also begun a series of four paintings that bridge the erotic writing of PM White with my paintings and will be producing sensual paintings with erotic words painted onto the canvas.”

Patrick Whitehurst can be found on Facebook. Visit the PM White website

COFFEE POT WOMAN
The woman reclines, she’s oblivious to the viewer. She’s not on display; she is comfortable with her nudity. But is she only comfortable because she thinks that she is alone? The viewer is a voyeur and if the viewer is titillated by the image, he/she deserves to be discomforted. We are intruding on a private moment. The woman’s left hand is between her thighs. Is she fondling herself? Masturbating? We do not know.

LIZARDY

It’s a precious moment; sharing a moment in time with a wild creature. The image frozen. It is a privilege. Like a photo, but nothing like a photo. It is a peaceful image; the lizard is wild, but not feral. We have nothing to fear from this creature; we can only admire his exquisite beauty.

PRODUCERS THINK

This painting is surreal, it is like a fragment from a dream. Already the dream is fading, as dreams always do. We struggle to remember. Yes, there was woodland in the dream. We shudder as we recall the ominous shadow. The feeling of something creeping up behind you. Something, perhaps awful is about to happen. THINK the Graffiti tells us. We try, but the thought eludes us.

SITTING AND BLAMING

An alarming old man. Resentment is etched in the lines on his face but despair too. What is he holding up -- painted in soft blue and pale yellow? A memory? Is that why he grinds his teeth? Sharp edges, a wooden chair. Do we know him? Do we want to? He is very old. What tales he could tell us? Would we then understand his despair?

TEXTING CLOUDS

Once I had a dream, that there were images in the sky. It was like looking up at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Only I could see them. I was telling everyone to look. They looked, but they didn’t see. So I feel a connection with this painting. A lone figure is intent on his cell phone. He doesn’t see the images in the sky. The shapes of the clouds. Is it a comment on life in the 21st century. I don’t know.

DARK AND LAUGHABLE

This is a hideous clown. The stuff of nightmares. He is scary. Is the artist showing us that sometimes we are right to be scared of humour. Do we take ourselves too seriously? But why is the face gruesome? Perhaps the clown could tell us stories too. Stories that would sound familiar; stories that repel and depress.

READER OF BOOKS

She is taking time to relax, it is another moment in time. Maybe she is trying to hard to relax. Her feet are bare, but she is all sharp angles. While she reads, there are several books discarded. Is the woman as chilled as she would like us to think.

And my readings, my thoughts on Patrick’s paintings are not definitive. There is no right answer. No wrong answer either.

There’s a lot of nonsense talked about art; a lot of waffle. You don’t have to have a deep knowledge of art history to understand something on an emotional level and really, for me, it does come down to an emotional response. Do I like it? Why? Why is it so moving? Why is it so pleasing to my eye? Do I hate it? Why does it darken my mood? Why does it discomfort me? And there’s another thing, just because a piece of art gives me the chills, it doesn’t mean I don’t like it. We can all shout out “This is beautiful!” Or “This is rubbish!” The important question to ask is: “Why?” And sometimes the equally important answer is; “I don’t know.”

Camel Toe Cup

2012-01-15T01:38:00.000-08:00

Just what you need! (click to enhance)

Wowzers and whizzbang Robotettes; this handy-dandy enhancer that I’ve found online might be just the ‘bam in the clam’ you’ve been looking for. The advert states the following:

Camel Toe Annie says: If there is someone you want to get to know, show em’ the Toe!

features!

* Not tested on camels
* molded of durable teflon
* Camel Toe Annie approved
* Each CTC is numbered and registered at our central office, in case you leave it after a night of whorin’ or it’s found in a dumpster
* Deep Groove® channel accommodates all materials (denim, cotton, silk, burlap)
* Dishwasher and microwave safe

via Joe's Giant Robots

Polly Want Something?

2012-01-15T01:36:00.000-08:00

via Hung Like A...

Spank Button

2012-01-15T01:29:00.000-08:00

The world needs more alternative key caps to liven up its boring QWERTY keyboards.

via Spanking Tush & Eros Blog

But They Always Travel In Pairs

2012-01-14T18:45:00.000-08:00

Woody Allen (center) and giant marauding breast on the set of Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex, But Were Afraid to Ask (1972, dir. Woody Allen)